Such a lovely room

Such a lovely room

Wednesday, May 14, 2025

Frances Perkins, Social Reformer

Frances Perkins, Social Reformer, 1965

It is notable that the collect for today says that in faithfulness to her baptism Frances Perkins envisioned a society in which all might live in health and decency.  And the proper preface assigned for today is the preface for baptism.  Though the promises we make today in baptism from the 1979 prayer book are different from the ones Frances Perkins would have made using the 1892 prayer book, the connection is there: in baptism, we are born into a new relationship with God and the world.  And when we are true to that new relationship, it changes how we treat our neighbors, turning us away from selfishness toward selflessness.

We see this in God’s command in the reading from Deuteronomy.  Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, “Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.”  When we have enough, we are called to share with those who don’t.  This is key to our Christian faith.  Feeding the hungry and clothing the naked are things Jesus talked about all the time.  To be a Christian is to be concerned for our neighbor’s well-being. 

But that’s Christianity.  What about the government?  Should caring for my neighbor inform how I vote?  Do I bring my faith into the voting booth?  Well, in Frances’ view, yes.  As we heard, Christ’s incarnation informed her conviction that people ought to work with God to create a just Christian social order.  In other words, since Jesus walked among us as a complete human being—a real person—Jesus sanctified what it means to be human.  People are holy creatures of God, and must be treated as such.  And if we are to play this out, that means we care for our neighbors by supporting policies that care for our neighbors. 

There’s an interesting thing that happens in the Gospel reading for today.  Whether intentionally or not, the disciples’ solution to people’s hunger is to send them away.  On the surface, it looks like legitimate concern for the people around them.  The disciples say to Jesus, “Send the crowd away, so that they may go into the surrounding villages and countryside, to lodge and get provisions; for we are here in a deserted place.” Sounds compassionate doesn’t it?  Caring for my neighbor by sending them away?  But Jesus says to them, “You give them something to eat.”  

And the disciples immediately default to a scarcity mentality.  “We have no more than five loaves and two fish—unless we are to go and buy food for all these people.”  They are standing there with the creator of all that is, the One who was at the beginning of all creation, the Word made flesh, and they can’t seem to see what Jesus can see.  Namely, they have everything they need.  They don’t need to send the people away.  They don’t need to go into town to buy supplies.  They only need to trust Jesus, open their hand, and distribute from their own abundance.

It’s hard to be generous when we convince ourselves we don’t have enough.  It’s hard to care about others when we are focused on ourselves.  And that is just as true for nations as it is for individuals.  There is a saying—often wrongly attributed to Gandhi, but true nonetheless—“The greatness of a nation can be judged by how it treats its weakest member.”  Are we great when the poor are suffering?  Are we great when children are starving?  Are we great when the elderly can no longer afford food and heat?

Frances Perkins was a baptized child of God, and she knew deep in her heart that there was plenty to go around, and there always will be plenty to go around.  We don’t need to send people away when they are hungry.  We don’t even need to go shopping for supplies.  We only need to trust Jesus, and do as God commands: “Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.” 
 

Saturday, May 10, 2025

YEAR C 2025 easter 4

Easter 4, 2025
Acts 9:36-43
Revelation 7:9-17
John 10:22-30
Psalm 23

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

So, today is what we call “Good Shepherd Sunday.”  The fourth Sunday of Easter is always Good Shepherd Sunday.  But it’s been six years since I preached on that first reading, from the book of Acts.  And we only get to hear that story once every three years.  So I think it’s time to talk about Dorcas again.  That’s kind of an unfortunate name—to our American ears, at least.  In Aramaic, her name is Tabitha, which means gazelle, which is lovely.  But, when it gets translated into Greek, she becomes Dorcas.  And there’s no need for that, so I’m going to go with Tabitha today..

If you look over to your left, you’ll see our lovely window, depicting Tabitha and the widows.  It’s unclear at first glance whether this is after she was raised back to life, or if is is Tabitha distributing clothing to the needy before she fell ill and died.  However, as with all good art, further study provides additional clues.  The woman on the right is carrying a basket of what I am convinced are pomegranates.  (Opinions on this vary in my household.)  But in Greek mythology, the pomegranate is tied to the myth of Persephone and the arrival of spring, which is the rebirth of the earth each year.  

 


For Christians, the pomegranate is a symbol of the resurrection and the hope of eternal life.  If you look around the room, you will see lots of pomegranates and lilies in our stained glass windows.  These are symbols of resurrection to new life, which is why we decorate the Altar with lilies at Easter.  And although the overwhelming pollen can be rough, something would be lost if we put bowls of pomegranates on the Altars at Easter.

Back to Tabitha.  So, given that the woman with the pomegranates is holding the hand of the woman in blue, it seems this is after Tabitha has been raised from the dead.  And the woman in front of Tabitha is showing the widows and orphans the tunics and other clothing that Tabitha had made, as a reminder of why she was so beloved in the community.  There is one man depicted in the window, on the left side, holding a shepherd’s crook.  I got nothing on this guy.

So this window is dated 1905 in memory of Emma Dielhenn who died that January.  My German instincts tell me to pronounce that name as Deel-hen.  But this being Ohio, I'm told the name is pronounced Dillon, at least here in Massy-on.  And, just a few blocks from here, you can find Dielhenn Avenue, which is named for the Dielhenn Petticoat Co., which employed many city residents. In 1908 the “Dry Goods Reporter” declared that Dielhenn Petticoat was America’s leading petticoat specialist.

So, knowing all of that, look again at the window.  See the angel up top holding the cloth?  And all the fabric in this scene?  You can see why our Tabitha window—featuring a woman who was known for making robes and clothing—is dedicated in memory of Emma Dielhenn, whose family dealt in fabrics, right?  Here endeth the history lesson.

Now back to the text.  Tabitha was known for her acts of charity, and is one of the first female disciples mentioned by name, after the resurrection.  She fell ill and died.  Her friends gathered together to prepare her for burial, and they call a prominent pastor, Peter.  He comes right away when he receives word.  And then, those who gathered and are in mourning tell stories and share mementoes of Tabitha’s time among them.  It sounds very much like what we do today when someone dies, doesn’t it?  Gather together, share stories, call the pastor?

Then Peter sends them all outside, and he kneels down and prays.  We don’t know the content of his prayers, or what he was asking.  But eventually, he turns to the body and said, "Tabitha, get up.”  And, as we heard, she opens her eyes, sees it is Peter, and he helps her up, “calling the saints and widows, he showed her to be alive.”

SO many interesting things about that little section!  First, we specifically heard, “he turned to the body and said . . .”  Luke, the writer of Acts, makes it clear that she is not in this body.  It is just a body.  This is not Tabitha.  This is a body.  And then, he calls her by name, and she rises from the dead.  Now I won’t stand here and tell you that I understand all this, where she went when she wasn’t in the body, or how calling her by name brings her back to life.  But I will say that this sounds a lot like what will happen to each one of us when the new heaven and new earth are proclaimed.  Jesus will call each of us by name, and we will rise with all the others to a new life.

And then there’s that phrase, “calling the saints and widows, he showed her to be alive.”  What saints?!?  We had heard mention of widows earlier in the story.  But to what saints was Peter showing her?  It suggests that it’s not just the people in the room, doesn’t it?  Like maybe he’s showing Tabitha to the saints who have gone before?  Or showing her to the saints who will come after?  To me and you?  Again, I have no answers here, but Luke was careful with language—unlike Mark—so using the word “saints” certainly means more than showing her to the people in the room.

Six years ago, I didn’t know anything about Emma Dielhenn.  Yesterday, I went and visited her grave in Massillon Cemetery, and found that she died at the age of 45.  And I drove up Dielhenn Ave. on my way back to church for good measure.  Then I looked through the Vestry Minutes from 1905 to get more clues,  And after all that, I still don’t really know much.  But I know that someone dedicated this window to her memory.  And because of that, I learned that the Dielhenns made one of the best petticoats in the country.  But the only reason I know any of that is because of this window.  So the phrase, “In memorium” at the bottom is most appropriate, right?  By memorializing this window depicting Tabitha, future generations are remembering and talking about Emma Dielhenn on this fourth Sunday of Easter, 120 years after her death.

And this window also honors someone named Tabitha, (or Dorcas, in Greek).  There are fifteen sentences about her in the book of Acts.  Out of 31,102 verses in the Bible, she got 8.  Ask most Christians to identify Tabitha or Dorcas in the Bible, and not many could do it.  Before I started as your rector, I could not have told you off the top of my head who she was without looking it up.  It’s kind of an obscure story, within the context of the whole of our scriptures.  

Our beautiful window here focuses our attention on her good works and acts of charity.  The main focus of this window is showing the “tunics and other clothing that Tabitha had made while she was with them.”  And that seems right, because we honor her for what she did before her death.  She wasn’t just some random person raised from the dead by Peter.  She was a disciple of Jesus, who used her wealth and privilege to help the people around her who needed help.  And we are reminded of those good deeds when we look at this window.

But that’s not why we know Tabitha’s name.  We only know her name because she was raised from the dead.  She did laudable deeds, but we only know about those deeds because of God’s deed of raising her from the dead.  We honor her in the window for what she did before her death.  But we only even know about her because she was raised from the dead..

The point is not what she did with her life.  The point is that she was raised back to life.  Which is just like you and me.  Some people do great things with their lives.  Get streets named after them, or windows dedicated in their memory.  But lots of us struggle through difficult lives, just trying to keep breathing, to keep living, to rely on the kindness of strangers.  And in God’s eyes, not one of us is any less important than anyone else.  Each person created in the image of God.  And as we heard in today’s gospel reading, not one will be snatched out of the hand of Jesus.

And at some point, like Tabitha, every single one of us will be just a body.  With people gathered to share stories about us while they wait for the pastor to show up.  And at some point, on some unknown day, the Good Shepherd will call each of us by name, and say to our mortal bodies, “get up.”  And then Jesus, the Good Shepherd,  will call all the saints  to show them that we too are alive.  That like Tabitha, we too will rise to new life because of Jesus.  And all the saints will rejoice.

Amen.

Sunday, May 4, 2025

YEAR C 2025 easter 3

Easter 3, 2025
Acts 9:1-20
Revelation 5:11-14
John 21:1-19
Psalm 30

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

I think the theme running through all these readings today is this:
God is not afraid to meet us where we are.  Whether we are against God, or forgetting God, or even unable to perceive God at all.  No matter how we feel,  or what we do, God is always showing up.  Let’s start with the reading from Acts.

Saul is actively hunting down Christians in order to bind them and deport them to Jerusalem.  When I look around the United States today—and I promise this is not a political position, but—the closest analogy I can find is that he is acting like an ICE agent chasing people down and taking them away.  As we heard, he is combing through letters people have written, looking for evidence he can use to arrest them and take them to another country.  He is committed to doing whatever it takes, and is on his way to Damascus to round up the infidels.

And of course, on the way, Jesus appears to him, asks why he is persecuting him, and Saul is struck blind.  Now, as I said, your bulletin insert left off the rest of the story because it is optional . . . for some reason!  But to me it’s the most important part of the story!  God tells a disciple named Ananias to go and pray with Saul.  And, Ananias is understandably reluctant.  He knows of Saul’s reputation as an ICE-like agent, and he’s certainly not looking to be rounded up and deported to Jerusalem.  But Ananias does as God tells him, and goes and prays with Saul.  Then Saul regains his sight, gets baptized, eats some food, and regains his strength.  But then we heard . . .

“For several days [Saul] was with the disciples in Damascus, and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, ‘He is the Son of God’.”  Just think about what that means for the Christians living in Damascus.  This guy, who just days earlier was on his way to bust into their homes and drag them off in chains to a foreign country, is now claiming to be one of them.  On a smaller scale, just imagine how uncomfortable you would be if Bruce the street preacher decided to join us on Sunday mornings, claiming to be converted to our belief in baptizing babies and taking communion.  I feel like we’d welcome him in, of course.  But would we trust him?  With that kind of sudden change of heart?

In some ways the most remarkable thing about this story is that the Christians in Damascus trusted in God enough to worship alongside the person who came to town for the express purpose of dragging them away for their faith!  Saul was actively persecuting the followers of Jesus, and Jesus came to him anyway.  And the Christians in Damascus trusted God enough to welcome the very person who was “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.”  God comes to us, even when we are against God.

And then that gospel reading.  Every three years I get the chance to say, “When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea.”  And it makes me smile.  But the thing I want to look at today is the start of that reading.  First, the context of the timeline.  

Two weeks ago, we heard the Easter story of the Resurrection of Jesus.  You’re familiar with that one.  It’s the start of the 20th chapter of John’s gospel.  Then last Sunday, we heard of Jesus appearing to his disciples twice, with Thomas being there for the second one.  So the disciples have already seen the resurrected Jesus two times before we get to today’s reading.  They’ve already seen him twice.  Thomas has touched the holes in Jesus’ hands.  And that’s the end of chapter 20.

Then Chapter 21 opens with the disciples being gathered together, and Peter says, “I am going fishing." And they say to him, "We will go with you.”  Stop right there.  Think back to how we got here.  Peter and several other disciples were fishermen.  And when they met Jesus, they left their nets behind and they followed him for about three years.  Then Jesus is arrested and put to death.  Then he rises from the grave and appears to them inside a locked room.  Twice!  After all of that, Peter says, “I am going fishing." And they say to him, "We will go with you.”

You’ve just had a real-life encounter with the risen Lord.  Twice!  And the next thing you do is say, “I’m going fishing”?!?  After all Peter has been through, after all he has seen and done, he decides to go back to what he was doing when he first met Jesus.  Like, “Well, we had some laughs.  I guess it’s back to the old grindstone.”  But I think there’s a lesson for us in that.  Because sometimes a life-changing experience doesn’t actually change us.  Or not permanently anyway.  People tend to stick to what they know.  Or return to what they know.  In a way, Peter has sort of given up on Jesus.  But Jesus hasn’t given up on Peter!

After the disciples take some fishing advice from the stranger on the shore, they catch a ton of fish, and they realize that it’s Jesus.  A third time!  And, since Peter was fishing naked, as one does, he puts on some clothes and jumps into the sea.  For comic relief I guess.  And then we have the encounter on the shore, and then Jesus and Peter have that conversation.  Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him, which we can see as a redemption for the three times Peter denied him.  There’s an aspect of this conversation that I’ve told you about before, but it bears repeating.

The Greek language has more than one word for love.  In English, love is love, and the context is the only thing that can give us more information.  In Greek, the three main kinds of love are eros, philios, and agapeEros gives us erotic love, maybe we could say romantic love.  Philios gives us brotherly love, or love for our neighbor, as in Philadelphia.  And then agape is usually thought of as the perfect selfless love, the kind God has for us.  Agape love is what we see in John 3:16, where God so loved the world, unconditionally, that He gave his only son.

So, here’s the big thing:  the first two times, Jesus asks Peter, “Do you agape love me?  Do you perfectly and selflessly love me?  Would you lay down your life for me?”  And Peter responds with, “Lord, you know that I philios love you.  I love you like a brother.  I love you as my friend.”  The first two questions and responses are the same.  “Do you love me selflessly?”  “Lord, you know I love you as my brother.”

But the third time Jesus asks the question, he changes it.  The third time, Jesus doesn’t ask Peter if he loves him with that perfect love, that agape love, the love that would lay down one’s life, would never deny or abandon him.  No, the third time Jesus asks Peter, “Do you philios love me?  Peter do you love me as a brother, a companion, a friend?”  And Peter’s response is the same as the first two times.  Peter says, “Lord, I love you as my brother.”  

Jesus, in this third question, comes to meet Peter where he is.  He does not ask Peter to become perfect.  And, he does not keep asking until Peter makes a promise Peter knows he cannot keep.  It’s not as though, after the resurrection, Peter suddenly becomes able to live up to his promise to lay down his life for Jesus.  I mean, as we heard, he decided to go fishing!  But Jesus comes to Peter.  Saul was against Jesus, and Jesus came to him anyway.  Peter was forgetting Jesus, and Jesus came to him anyway.
And then do you remember the third category I mentioned at the beginning?  Against God, forgetting God, and unable to perceive God?

There’s a little phrase tucked away in the reading from Revelation today.  John writes,

I heard the voice of many angels surrounding the throne and the living creatures and the elders; they numbered myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, singing with full voice,
"Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might
and honor and glory and blessing!”
Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, singing . . .


John hears the angels, and the elders, and every creature singing praises to the Lamb.  Every creature in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and in the sea, and all that is.  ALL of them singing.  Singing.

But that raises a deeper question.  Do dogs perceive God?  Do birds?  Do whales?  Do earthworms?  I think we’d all be inclined to say no.  And yet . . . and yet.  One day, every creature in heaven, and on earth, and under the earth, and in the sea, and all that is.  ALL of them singing.  Even the ones who do not even perceive God.

As I said at the beginning:  Jesus is not afraid to meet us where we are.  Whether we are against God, like Saul.  Or forgetting about God, like Peter.  Or even unable to perceive God at all, like all the creatures that surround us.  No matter how we feel, or what we do, or what we know of God, God is always showing up.  Always meeting us where we are.  Jesus will always come to you.  No matter what.

Thanks be to God.

Amen