Laboring for Love

Wheat field in France

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

July 7, 2020; Psalm 115:1-10; Hosea 8:4-7, 11-13; Matthew 9:32-38

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

“Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.’”

So ends our Gospel reading today. It has gotten me thinking about harvesting and labor. What are we harvesting and why are there so few laborers? If the harvest is plentiful then it must be good. We cannot be harvesting fear and anxiety for those are the fruits of scarcity. Love and compassion. Wisdom and understanding. Those are of God. And they are in abundance, if we look for them. The trouble is that it can be easy to miss them. We can get caught up in the narratives of fear and scarcity. The headlines have been full of messages that there is not enough. Not enough beds in the ICU. Not enough resources to keep the economy going. Not enough personal protective equipment. Not enough of essential items in our grocery stores. And of course, once we get ourselves into a mindset of scarcity and fear it can be self-perpetuating. All of a sudden there are more things to fear. We can see something to fear around every corner. 

But my friends, that is not what God’s desire for us. God does not desire for us to be frantic with fear or paralyzed with anxiety. Of course, that does not mean we get to be foolish or careless, throwing all caution to the wind. It does mean that we get to invest in, and keep our focus on that which is life-giving that which restores our soul and fills us with hope. That sounds wonderful we think. So, I should just have more days off and more vacation right? That’s the solution. 

Yes and no. Taking time off is valuable, but note that our Gospel today does not speak of rest. It speaks of labor, of the hard work of harvesting. Today we might think of harvesting in a merely metaphorical sense or of the seemingly simple act of sitting on a tractor while the machines did the work. All that is required of the farmer is driving in a straight line. But this is not the work of harvesting of which Jesus speaks. He is speaking of the exhausting manual labor of harvesting by hand. Perhaps swinging a sickle to harvest wheat. Climbing up and down a ladder to harvest olives. Or the careful hand work of harvesting grapes. Any of those are work that would leave us achy and tired at the end of the day. Yet, I think it would be a particular kind of ache and a particular type of tired. The kind of ache and tired that testifies to accomplishment, to doing something that is important and meaningful. To hard work that sustains life, brings joy, and brings comfort. 

That is a different sort of work than seemingly endless tasks or of busy-ness to ward off anxiety. It is meaningful work. It is hard work. There is no doubt about that. And it is work that is worth doing. 

The call and invitation in our Gospel is to labor. But it is not just to any and all labor. It is not an invitation to simply work more. It is an invitation to be thoughtful about the kind of work in which we invest our time and our strength. Our energy and our care. Let us invest our effort in that which is life-giving for us and for the world. 

There is an invitation in the midst of this challenging time to pause and reflect, to evaluate where our priorities are. Are we harvesting the fruits of the spirit? Are we harvesting that which endures? Are we trusting in God’s abiding presence or are we letting fear take hold? 

We are called by God to labor for the coming of the Kingdom, for the realization of God’s dream. So, as we have (hopefully) a little more time in these summer weeks to rest and reflect, to prepare for what is ahead (as uncertain as that may be), I hope we will evaluate the labors of our lives. I hope we will prepare ourselves to do the hard and holy work that sustains life and brings joy. And I hope we will also have the courage to stop doing, to let go of those tasks and habits which do not serve us, or perhaps more importantly, do not serve the values and ideals to which we are called as people of faith. There is much work ahead of us. On some days it may exhaust our bodies, and yet if we are following Jesus in our labors, the work will fill our souls. AMEN. 

Loaves and Fishes, Scarcity and Abundance

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
Frances Perkins, May 13, 2020

May God's word be spoken, May God's Word be heard, and May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Today's Gospel tells the story of the feeding of the five thousand. One of Jesus' many miracles in the New Testament story. It is a seemingly fantastic story – a story of how five loaves and two fish managed to feed more than five thousand. To our modern ears this may sound like a tall tale. We might try to explain it away by saying that there couldn't possibly have been that many people or assuming the author was just exaggerating for effect. Or we might say that everyone only got a crumb. We could come up with any number of ways to “explain” this story. But if we do that, we are missing out on the miracle and the message in the story. The miracle in the story is not about how many pieces of bread there were. The miracle is that everyone was fed. The miracle is that God created abundance in the midst of scarcity.

Jesus blessed the bread and the fishes. He invited God's blessing in and he invited all those present to share with another. Those actions transformed a time of scarcity into one of abundance.

That is a message that resonates in these days. An appropriate lesson as we honor Frances Perkins, FDR’s long serving Secretary of Labor, who helped implement so many programs like Social Security that help to ensure that no one is without a safety net. That endeavor to ensure that everyone in our society has the resources to meet their basic needs.

Most of us are fortunate enough that we probably cannot relate to the scarcity of food that the Gospel lesson describes. We have not looked into our kitchen cupboards or our refrigerators to find them empty. And even if we did, even in the midst of a pandemic, we are still able to get plenty of food. While we may not know material scarcity, that does not mean we don't understand the reality of scarcity. In fact our material prosperity can sometimes form a stark contrast with the scarcity that does exist in our lives.

Let me tell you the story of a woman I know. We'll call her Jane. Jane has every material and economic advantage. She lives in a big beautiful house. She has servants to cook and clean. Someone to drive her around. A nanny to watch over her children. She is a brilliant woman, well educated and intellectually curious. She does not need to work, and in her community it is expected that a woman of her social standing would not work. Rather she is expected to be a hostess, have hobbies and volunteer. To many it would seem that Jane had the perfect life. Where would we find scarcity in such a life? The scarcity is not in material comforts, it is a scarcity of depth and meaning. Jane wants more from life, a sense that she has made a meaningful contribution to the world. There is a hole in Jane's life, in Jane's heart, that she did not know how to fill. The pain is overwhelming, and so she does what many do. She finds ways to dull the pain. She finds it in alcohol and pain medication. But this temporary remedy only causes more scarcity as it causes Jane to withdraw from society, from her friends and even from her family. Thankfully that is not the end of the story. With the help of those who care about her, Jane gets into recovery. She stops drinking, and she stops taking medication. She transforms her life and her relationships. With help, scarcity turned into abundance.

Jane discovers that by being willing to turn over her problems, to give her scarcity up to God, she is able to invite God's blessing in and to allow healing to begin. The spiritual journey of recovery fills that hole in Jane's heart in a way that alcohol never could. Jane finds love and meaning. She finds that as she opens up to allow others to help her, not only is she strengthened by their care and support, she in turn is strengthened by the opportunity to care for others. She feels great pride in being able to help others on the journey of recovery – to share how God can turn scarcity into abundance. Jane's joy and pride does not only come from being able to help others discover the deep joy and satisfaction she now knew, it also comes from her relationship with her family. The gift of recovery means that she is now able to be fully present and engaged. Her relationships are deepened. Love abounds.

Although our own stories may be very different from Jane's, there is perhaps a universal element in the experience of scarcity and the desire to escape from it. Given the choice, we would all choose abundance over scarcity. We would choose the blessings of love and meaning, of material comfort and opportunities for education. And so when any of those things are lacking, when there are holes in our lives, we seek to fill them. We seek to escape from the reality of scarcity. Yet so often, like Jane, we seek a temporary or easy “solution” to our scarcity. We try to find a band-aid, a way to dull the pain. Maybe we fall victim to addiction as she did. Maybe we just ignore the problem, hoping it will go away. Maybe we throw ourselves into our work hoping that will provide the sense of joy that is missing in our lives. Maybe we buy more things. Maybe we do any number of unhelpful behaviors. But hopefully we have the strength and the courage to acknowledge wherever there is a spiritual scarcity in our lives, and to open ourselves up to the possibility that there might be another way forward. Like Christ did with the loaves and the fishes, we can hold our scarcity up to heaven and ask God's blessing upon it. We can ask that with grace and love, our scarcity may be transformed into abundance.


AMEN.

Prodigal Son

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

Chapel of our Lord, Episcopal Church Center

Maryan of Quidun

Hosea 2:14–23;Psalm 130;Luke 15:11–24

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the Living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Today we get the famous parable about the prodigal son. The son who takes his father’s money and squanders it in a foreign land and returns home in disgrace. Although we would expect him to be chastised and punished by his father for how irresponsible he has been, he is not. No, instead he is welcomed with open arms and a feast has been prepared. And that, of course, is the point. This is the parable about the wideness of God’s mercy. It is a parable about how immense God’s love is. And I think there is another important message in this parable that is often overlooked. 

It is often overlooked, because the character is often overlooked. Who do we focus on in this parable? We focus on the father and the wayward son, particularly on days like this when we remember the life of someone like Maryan of Quidun who fell into sin and then repented. And of course, we all have had times when we have gone astray in our own lives, and so we can identify with the prodigal son. And I would bet most (if not all) of us can identify with the father figure. We know the joy of being reunited with a loved one. We know the joy that comes when reconciliation happens and a broken relationship is healed! But we don’t often focus on the other son, the one who is left behind and who is so angry that a feast is prepared for the brother who returns!

It is quite understandable that we have a dislike for that brother, because identifying with him would likely mean owning up to a part of ourselves that we don’t like. It would mean owning up to the part of ourselves that gets jealous of other people’s success. It would mean owning up to the part of ourselves that desperately wants to be loved and appreciated by others. It would mean owning up to the part of ourselves that operates from a theology of scarcity - a conviction that there is not enough love to go around, and so we must be in competition with our siblings for our parents’ love and with every other person for the love of God. 

I will admit to having my brotherly moments. My moments when I have been too self-centered and unable to rejoice in another’s success, moments when I have been sure there isn’t enough love to go around. 

I think if we take a good, hard look at ourselves and our motives, we will realize we have all been there. As much as we would prefer not to admit it, we have behaved in selfish ways. As it says in the Morning Prayer Rite I confession, we have “followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts.” We are guilty of operating from a theology of scarcity. 

Most of the time we focus on this parable as one of comfort, one that reminds us that we are loved by God even if we have gone terribly astray, even if we have squandered the gifts that we have been given. That is an important and valuable lesson. And I want to offer that there is another important and valuable lesson in this text. It is less about our own comfort and more about stretching us to be who God calls us to be. I believe the story of the prodigal son is an invitation for us to stretch ourselves and to be more graceful. It is a parable about grace, but it is not just about God’s grace - it is about how we can be grace-filled people too. 

It is an invitation to behave more like the father than the older brother. It is an invitation to operate from a theology of abundance. There is enough love, enough joy for everyone. We ARE NOT in competition for God’s love or each other’s love. There is plenty to go around. That is the thing about love, the more you give it away - the more you share it with others- the more there is to go around. 

So, the next time someone receives an accolade you thought you deserved or the next time you want to launch into an angry tirade about how undeserving someone is or the next time you feel your competitive spirit get the better of you, slow down. Take a deep breath and remember the story of the prodigal son. Try being gracious. Try seeing them through the father’s eyes, through God’s eyes. Try putting a smile on your face and reaching out in love. You might just be pleasantly surprised by the results!

AMEN. 

Reflections on Joy and Bishop Hobart

Bishop John Henry Hobart

Rev. Molly F. James
John Henry Hobart, September 12, 2019
Chapel of our Lord, Episcopal Church Center
Psalm 78:3-7; Titus 1:7-9; John 17: 11b-19

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

“I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves.” Joy made complete. That warms my heart and brings a smile to my face. Something I need this week. Yesterday was 9/11, always a hard day in our family. Our cousin Ben worked in the South Tower and died in the attacks. It is a day that simultaneously reminds me of what horrors and evil humanity is capable of, as well as what grace, goodness, and self-sacrifice. And as some of you know, this anniversary comes on the heels of losing an uncle and a dear family friend. In the midst of the grief and loss, it could be easy for me to give into the fear and anxiety, particularly since so many of our news headlines just seem to add to a culture of division and cruelty. A culture that chooses to believe there is never enough and that invites us to focus on what is lacking rather than the abundance and possibility that surround us.


Given that temptation, it is a good day to celebrate the life and ministry of John Henry Hobart. Our lessons today remind us that God is with us, and that God desires our joy to be complete. This emphasis on joy and possibility is also found in the life of Bishop Hobart. He was in leadership at a time when the Church was in decline, and its future and stability in the wake of the American Revolution was a real question. He had a choice, he could have given into a mindset of fear and scarcity. He could have been inwardly focused and bemoaned the losses. He was not. He chose hope and possibility. He trained more clergy, he planted churches, and engaged in mission. Now, Hobart was not perfect, we may not like his tactics, and we should acknowledge the imperialist manner in which he ministered to the Oneida Indians. I am not advocating for a wholesale imitation of Hobart. I do think his spiritual mindset and focus on hope is worth noting.


Hobart admonished one of his congregations to be: “Humble, submissive, penitent, and obedient, let us seek, by fervent prayer, that divine illumination and grace by which our faith will daily become more strong and triumphant, and our obedience daily more sincere and holy, until our faith shall terminate in the vision of the transcendent brightness of the divine glory, and our obedience in the rewards of perfect and eternal bliss.”*


This sermon reminds us of the daily challenge we face as followers of Jesus. It is the choice to keep striving, keep seeking after God or to give into fear. Hobart reminds us that it is not about our accomplishments, it is about our mindset. How do we see the world? Where is our focus?


My father-in-law was fond of quoting Abraham Lincoln, who said that people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. Of course, our lives and emotions are more complicated and nuanced than that saying. And there is also some truth to it. What our mindset is matters. Are we convicted in our faith, are we seeking for our joy to be made more complete? Are we looking for possibility? Are we holding on to hope, even when fear is knocking at our door?


Remember that passage in Deuteronomy 30:15-20 where the people of Israel are given the choice been life and death? “See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. . . I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life . . .” We have the same invitation, each and every day. The question is, will we choose fear and death? Will we choose to focus our energy and attention on that which brings us pain and sorrow? Or will we choose life? Will we chose hope and possibility? Will we choose to move forward in faith, trusting in the abundant, abiding love of God, and seeking out that which brings us joy? 

And I think it is important to note that joy is more than happiness. I wonder if Abraham Lincoln really meant to say joyful. Happiness can be superficial. Joy is happiness and more. It is deep and profound. It is a feeling in our bones, in our whole bodies. Not just a smile on our face.


I hope that we will stay strong in our faith, and that all of us have the support and encouragement to choose each and every day that which gives life to us and to the world. AMEN.

*(from Sermon 1, “The Illuminating Power of the Gospel“, Parochial Sermons in The Posthumous Works of the Late Right Reverend John Henry Hobart, D.D., Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New-York, 1832.)

David, Bathsheba, General Convention, and God's Miracles

Standing with members of the House of Deputies Special Committee on Sexual Harassment and Exploitation 

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
Christ Church Cathedral, Hartford, CT
July 29, 2018, Proper 12B
2 Samuel 11:1-15; Psalm 14; Ephesians 3:14-21; John 6:1-21

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that lead us to the Living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Oh my. There is so much going on in today’s readings it is hard to know where to begin. We have adultery, murder, and then miracles upon miracles - Jesus feeds the five thousand, walks on water and makes the boat go immediately to the other shore. Phew. It is overwhelming.

Well, it seems to make sense to start with the complex and challenging story of David and Bathsheba. This seems like the stuff of a summer beach read or a Hollywood movie. Powerful man has an affair with a beautiful woman, impregnates her, and ends up “arranging for” the death of her husband, so as to cover his tracks and prevent the affair from being discovered. But if we just retell it that way, we miss out on some really important issues and lessons for us. As often happens with Scripture, if we stay on the surface, we can miss out on the deeper lessons. 

On the surface we can think this is just a story to remind us why adultery and murder are wrong, and on some level it is. And don’t worry, David does get his comeuppance for his sins. The OT reading in next week’s lectionary is the story of the prophet Nathan holding up a mirror to help David realize how gravely he has fallen short of who God has called him to be.

But the additional, deeper lesson here is one about power dynamics. A lesson our Scripture passage almost seems to gloss over. Note how the passage describes the interaction with Bathsheba, “So David sent messengers to get her, and she came to him, and he lay with her.” Hmm. That sure makes a very messy situation seem quite simple. David was king. David wanted this thing to happen, and so it did. Bathsheba has no agency in the situation. She has no power. There is no possibility that she might not want to commit infidelity. No question about what her own needs and desires might be. It is all about David and what he wants.

And just in case it was not abundantly clear this is a lesson about what NOT to do. This is a lesson about the improper use, and really the abuse, of power. David abused his power and authority to satisfy his own desires without regard to the effects it would have on those around them.

There is a cautionary tale here for those of us who enjoy positions of power and privilege to be very careful about how we exercise that power. We are not to confuse our own desires with what is best for the community or the whole. And just because we can do something does not mean that is what we should do. Good leadership is not about satisfying our own needs or desires. It is about putting the needs of the community above our own.

I have to say that I find it particularly powerful to have this passage in our lectionary so soon after General Convention. I had the privilege of serving as a Deputy to General Convention and serving as a member of the House of Deputies Special Committee on Sexual Misconduct and Exploitation. For me, one of the more inspiring things that happened at and through General Convention was the way in which the Church as a whole, and particularly those in positions of power and privilege in our Church, took responsibility for the sins of the past, for the ways in which women have been and are abused and mistreated by the Church. Along with that came resolutions, policies, and covenants that point to a different way forward. A way forward that promises more transparency, justice, and sensitivity to the reality of power dynamics. I truly believe we are at a turning point as a Church. Like David, we have sinned and abused our power. And like David, we are being invited by prophetic voices into a new and different future. One in which we exercise our power with grace and compassion. I am tremendously hopeful that our future will look very different than our past, particularly as it concerns women and those who have been previously marginalized and hurt by the Church.

So that’s the story of David and Bathsheba. Then we have those miracles. Kind of makes you wonder why the lectionary committee put these together. What does the feeding of the five thousand and Jesus walking on water have to do with murder and adultery? Actually, I don’t think it is a complete fluke that these lessons are paired together. Our Gospel lesson shows us the abundance of God, and the myriad of ways that God can surprise us with possibility and opportunity, even when we feel doubtful or fearful. How often have we been like the disciples? How often have we looked around at what we have and said this won’t work? This can’t possibly be enough. I cannot make this work with these scarce resources. Or how often have we been stuck in a place of fear, convinced that whatever is coming towards us cannot possibly be good?

There is an invitation here, an invitation to join God in finding abundance and hope, even in the midst of times when we feel overcome by fear or scarcity. God is at work and will often surprise us if we can be open to the possibility.

So, today, I hope those of us with power and privilege will feel challenged by the story of David and Bathsheba. Challenged so that when we are in positions of power and privilege, we might always use our power for good and never fall into the temptation of using our power to selfish ends. I hope those of us who have been victims of the abuse of power will feel heartened by the events of General Convention and the newfound willingness of the Church to hear and face the sins of the past, and hopeful in the opportunity for different way forward. I hope we are all comforted and inspired by our Gospel, by its invitation to see abundance instead of scarcity, to live from a place of hope and possibility rather than a place of fear. I do believe the future can be different. Let us go and join with God in making it so. AMEN.