Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ Matthew 25:37-39

How do we see one another? That question, of course, is not about how we physically see one another, but about how we view, approach, understand people outside our ourselves or our close circles. Do we tend to view others with a wait-and-see attitude when we first meet them, or do we start from the assumption that the person before us is trustworthy and approachable – at least until proven otherwise? Do we start from the position that someone who looks different from me, whatever that difference may be, is someone who has to prove their worth and value; or do we start from a place of healthy curiosity about the nature and value of that difference?

The French writer and aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, in his book “The Little Prince”, wrote, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” Learning to see this way takes time, and curiosity, and patience, emotional imagination, and sometimes courage.

There is a part of us that sees difference and sometimes registers that as “threat” – and sometimes that sense of threat is true, and it would be wise to listen to it. That God-given intuition has evolved over millenia and is there for a reason; it’s part of our survival instinct.

On the other hand, at the other extreme, we may be tempted to blow right past any notion of difference at all, telling ourselves that we “only see a human being” in front of us, and that nothing that shows outwardly is of any importance of all – whether that be the way they dress or speak, their skin color or facial features, anything the person chooses to outwardly display about their culture or a group they may belong to. That is a temptation that we need to avoid. We know that our physical, cultural, and ethnic make-up all contribute to who we are and how we understand the world; we can’t dismiss those things out of hand, whether for ourselves or for someone else.

How do we see one another? How do we know one another?

That is a crucial question that is asked by this scene that Jesus poses in his last hours of teaching in the Temple before the Last Supper, before the Crucifixion. He paints a picture of God’s justice being like a king, the world’s true Lord, who brings the world back into balance by sorting out the righteous from the unrighteous, and the criteria used for this sorting out is the way each group behaves towards the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, the imprisoned – all those cast-offs of mainstream and polite society.

What did the righteous see? They say people who had needs. What did the unrighteous see? They saw people who were not worthy of their time and effort. And yet the king, representing Jesus in the story, invites both groups to look more closely, to see on a deeper level: Truly I tell you, just as you did it or did not do it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.

St. John Chrysostom, in the fourth century said, “If you cannot find Christ in the beggar at the church door you will not find him in the chalice.”

Jesus is asking us, then, to look at others with the heart and, ultimately, to see Jesus himself. This is part of justice and holy judgment, part of bringing the world back into balance by learning to see others through the eyes of faith and. by seeing them, value them as God’s beloved ones.

That is a very hard thing to do in our culture right now – and has been increasingly so for quite a number of years. So much stress has been put on the objective way of seeing the world, particularly in our political dealings with one another. This data-driven, objective way of seeing can be manipulative, it is seeing others only from afar, never finding out what they are really like in their complex, many-layered, many-faceted selves. That kind of objective seeing only drives us further apart, and certainly does not lead us to see Christ in others who are very different from us.

The New York Times columnist David Brooks*, who comments on both cultural and politics and has become a person of faith in recent years, says that this political type knowledge that pollsters use has led to an epidemic of mis-seeing, led to a feeling of being unknown and unseen by the rest of the world, led to a sense of alienation and isolation from others. It divides and separates us.
Instead, Brooks says, we need to embrace the spiritual way of knowing, of seeing the depth of the other, with all their very real difference from ourselves, and value them for who they are. That leads to connection and community.

We need to have a holy and respectful curiosity, a willingness to be vulnerable and learn about one another. In doing so we may well learn more about ourselves, and the bonds of generous humanity that can tie us together.

Christ is the world’s true Lord and just Judge, and he bids us to see, respect, and value him in the face of all others, so that we are indeed seeing rightly with the heart and taking our place in the re-balancing and repair of God’s world.

Let us pray.
Day by day, dear Lord, three things I pray: to see thee more clearly, to love thee more dearly, to follow thee more nearly, day by day. Amen.

*For reference see Brooks’ address at the awarding of the Abraham Kuyper Prize, November 17, 2020 on Calvin University's YouTube channel.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
First Sunday before Advent (Last Sunday after Pentecost)
November 22, 2020
 

Jesus said, “It is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability.” Matthew 25:14

This is the Sunday that we begin our approach to Advent, that time when the old Church year and the new one overlap with the themes of justice, hope, judgment, peace, and the longing for Christ’s coming at the end of this age, at Christmas, and in our hearts each day. It is in many ways a time outside of time – an opportunity to reflect on time itself, and God’s purposes for us and for the world.

The Gospel passage before us this morning is one that is often read and understood to be about judgment – God as the master who goes away on a long journey, having left vast and abundant resources with his servants. A “talent” in Jesus’ day was a unit of money equal to fifteen years’ wages for an ordinary laborer. The amount entrusted to each of the three servants was almost incomprehensible, as is so often the case in parables. When the master finally returns – without having given any instructions about what is to be done with the money – he criticizes and penalizes the servant who was given the smallest amount and just buried it.

To be clear, we must not take away from this the idea that Jesus is urging his hearers to look for a good rate of return from the stock market and punishing those who don’t or can’t do so. Jesus, and the prophets before him, actually did have a great deal to say about money and material goods and how they are to be used. But the vast and abundant resources in this parable are the resources of the faith and history and purposes of God for Israel to be a blessing to the world that were being squandered in their complicity with Rome, and the Roman claim to be the final arbiters and controllers of the meaning and value of life. So much of Jesus’ sharp rebuke to the leaders of his time came to fruition in 70 AD when the Roman Empire finally destroyed Jerusalem and razed the Temple.

The third servant in the parable acted from fear and distrust of a master he clearly did not know or understand. The consequences of his behavior are a result of his false reading and understanding of the master’s intentions. He brought upon himself the behavior he expected and feared.

So what were the master’s intentions; and what are God’s intentions and purposes? In the parable, the master’s intention was that the servants would be good stewards of the resources which had been entrusted to them. They had been given a treasure and they should have let it continue to blossom and grow – not molder in the ground.

Going all the way back to Genesis, to the beginning, God created the world for the sheer joy, creativity, and goodness of it. And God created humankind to tend, and care for, and be wise and grateful stewards of the good creation.

And in the covenant with Abraham and Sarah God states it even more plainly: “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing...  and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (Gen. 12:2-3) God’s purpose for his people, for those whom he has called is to be a blessing to others.

The catechism in our Prayer Book puts it in a different way, by asking what is the mission of the Church, its purpose: “The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.” (2x) This deepens and sharpens God’s intent. Not only are we to be agents of God’s blessing to others, but we are to actively work for the unity of all people with one another and with God. That unity is spiritual, personal, societal – not just religious. In other words, as much as we (personally and as a Church) are called to do the work of evangelism which will help people to be consciously connected to God in Christ, we are also called to work for reconciliation and unity between and among people.

Reconciliation and unity do not mean uniformity or facile glossing-over of differences. Instead, reconciliation means seeing the other as a someone of value, worthy of love and respect, seeing the other as being made in God’s image, someone who we can learn from as much as we can give to. None of this is easy. The work of reconciliation is hard, but it is necessary, as we know in our current political and social climate post-election. And yet, reconciliation is fundamental to God’s purpose; it is part of the Advent hope.

A very striking and poignant example of the ministry of reconciliation is found in the life of Coventry Cathedral in England. Eighty years ago, on November 14-15, 1940, the city of Coventry was bombed – part of the Nazi blitzkrieg. Nearly all of the city center was destroyed, and almost six hundred people were killed. St. Michael’s Cathedral, a fourteenth-century building, was demolished. But the story has a different ending than despair and destruction the bombs intended.

The very next morning Father Richard Howard, the Cathedral provost, put forth a vision to rebuild as a sign of faith, trust, and hope in God’s future – not just for the Church, but for the city itself. This vision gave people an alternative to their feelings of bitterness and hatred. Eventually the Cathedral developed a Ministry of Peace and Reconciliation, which works in areas of conflict in the world with both prayer and practical support.

The outward sign of this hope is described on the Cathedral’s website: “Shortly after the destruction, the cathedral stonemason, Jock Forbes, noticed that two of the charred medieval roof timbers had fallen in the shape of a cross. He set them up in the ruins where they were later placed on an altar of rubble with the moving words ‘Father Forgive’ inscribed on the Sanctuary wall. Another cross was fashioned from three medieval nails by local priest, the Rev’d Arthur Wales. The Cross of Nails has become the symbol of Coventry’s ministry of reconciliation.” The ruins of the former building form a forecourt to the modern building, completed in 1962. Together the two structures “create one living Cathedral.”

Reconciliation between God and humanity, person to person, in all ways and at all levels of society, is part of God’s purpose for the world; and those of us who follow Jesus are called to participate in that work in whatever ways we can – small or great. It is part of the Advent hope, part of what we long for and pray for in this season.

Reconciliation requires honesty about wrongs done and harm inflicted. It requires confession and a willingness to examine our own attitudes and actions. Reconciliation needs humility and a willingness to be about forgiveness and peace-making. Reconciliation depends on us knowing we are all one human family, held in God’s just and loving embrace.

May Christ’s ministry of reconciliation be part of our prayer, our work, our longing, and our hope this Advent-tide.

Let us pray in the words of the Coventry Litany of Reconciliation:
All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.
The hatred which divides nation from nation, race from race, class from class,
FATHER FORGIVE
The covetous desires of people and nations to possess what is not their own,
FATHER FORGIVE
The greed which exploits the work of human hands and lays waste the earth,
FATHER FORGIVE
Our envy of the welfare and happiness of others,
FATHER FORGIVE
Our indifference to the plight of the imprisoned, the homeless, the refugee,
FATHER FORGIVE
The lust which dishonours the bodies of men, women and children,
FATHER FORGIVE
The pride which leads us to trust in ourselves and not in God,
FATHER FORGIVE
Be kind to one another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Second Sunday before Advent
November 15, 2020

Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:3-4

We are gathered here this morning to mark our parish feast day, to remember our connection to the Communion of Saints and pray for those who have gone before us in the faith, to celebrate the Eucharist together for the first time in eight months. And in one of the synchronicities in life, the last time we were together for Communion on March 8 it was the start of daylight savings, and today is the day we return to standard time. Our experience of being apart in so many ways has been bounded by the time changes we observe.
And we hear these very familiar words of Jesus, those we call the Beatitudes, and we draw comfort from them – a recognizable touchstone in the sea of so much that is uncertain and unfamiliar, and feelings of frustration, sadness, confusion, anger, and just plain being fed up. It is good to have a safe and familiar rock upon which to stand. And yet, if we only hear these words as solace, we will have missed the fullness of what Jesus wants to say to us.

The Beatitudes are the start of the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew’s presentation of much of Jesus’ core teaching, early on in his public ministry. But they are not just philosophical statements to consider, good advice for those who might like to ponder such things.

It helps to remember that just prior to this scene, Jesus has called two pairs of brothers to give up everything and follow him. They travel throughout Galilee and attract a huge following with people coming on foot from all over, even over a hundred miles away – hungry for the healing, deliverance, and wholeness that they have heard comes to those who were in Jesus presence. Jesus is gathering around him a new community, founded on a renewal of God’s purposes for humanity, a fresh understanding and experience of God’s presence and promise.

Just like God makes a covenant with the enslaved Hebrews after Moses frees them from oppression in Egypt; and just like God renews that covenant with the people as they are about to cross the Jordan River into the promised land under Joshua’s leadership; so now Jesus is calling God’s people into a new covenant of faith and love which will ultimately be ratified in his Body and Blood, his crucifixion and resurrection.

The Sermon on the Mount and the words of the Beatitudes, in particular, become the handbook, a manifesto almost, a rule of life for life in the community of the kingdom of heaven – not just a far away, eventual destination, but God’s kingdom on earth, as it is in heaven. The word “blessed” here can just as well be translated as “wonderful news” an announcement of the life-giving things that God is doing for and through this new community.

Wonderful news for the poor in spirit! Wonderful news for the mourners! Wonderful news for the meek! Wonderful news for people who hunger and thirst for God’s justice; and for the merciful, and the pure in heart, and the peacemakers. And wonderful news for the people who are persecuted and slandered because of God’s way!

All of these are characteristics and hallmarks of living in and for Christ, and Jesus also lays out the results of this rule of life: The kingdom of heaven, the fullness of God, is yours; you’ll be comforted and given solace, but you’ll also be advocated for; and you’ll possess the truly important things in life. You will be filled up and satisfied with God’s justice; you will be on the receiving end of mercy and care; you will be able to see God at work in the world about you, as well as in your own heart. You will know your identity as God’s child and your place in God’s family. You will be living right at the heart of the kingdom of heaven, and you’ll be in very good company – that of the prophets and the saints who got into good trouble for God.

Those are the hallmarks of being a follower of Jesus, of living in God’s way, of being part of the Communion of Saints – that great cloud of faith and witnesses who surrounds us and pray with us.

I have no doubt that these past eight months may have tried and tested your faith in many different ways; and we know that we are not yet at the end of it. So it is really important, crucial actually, that we take time this morning as we are gathered to remember what we are about as Christians, to renew our commitment to following in God’s way, to live and move and have our being in the love and grace of God even as the world around us does not always recognize, or affirm, or accept the Truth and lives by a different reality of its own making.

In a few moments we will renew our baptismal vows, our baptismal covenant. And we will be fed and blessed by the Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven. That bread is enough – enough to feed us, to shape us, to give us strength for the continuing journey ahead of us. And we pray that we will become that which we receive – the Body of Christ in the world, living, serving, and loving God and all of God’s creation. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
All Saints’ Day
November 1, 2020

We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate, in cheerfulness. Romans 12:6-8

What was Christmas morning like when you were a child? I’m sure there was excitement, anticipation, perhaps even frustration if you had to wait for sleepy parents to wake up and give you the okay to leave your room. Because my sister and I had bedrooms upstairs and my parents were downstairs, I remember several Christmas mornings knocking on the floor with a shoe to let our parents know we were up!

Of course, every family has their traditions, their way of doing things, but the quintessential image of Christmas morning (at least in American popular culture) is the children running into the living room and diving into a pile of presents left by Santa under the tree. Some time - and mountain of discarded wrapping paper and ribbon - later the children might get around to sharing with other family members what their gifts were. It’s quite an individualistic approach, and no surprise when we’re talking about children.

But maybe as you got older your family put in place a different way of opening Christmas presents – one that included the whole family. At some point in our family we developed the practice of everyone putting their gifts next to the place where we were each sitting. And then we go around the circle, each opening one gift while everyone else is watching, so we can all share in the joy, or the humor, or the appreciation of the gift. And there are often stories to be told about each gift - what caught the giver’s fancy, or how he or she hoped it would fit with the receiver’s most recent project, or whatever the story might be. Taking the time to open gifts this way helps the whole family to be part of the gift-giving.

In today’s Letter to the Romans St. Paul is reminding that community what it is to be a family of faith, and how they are to share their gifts – the gifts God has given them for the benefit of the whole Body of Christ. We hear this from Paul several times and in several places in his letters.

It was important to him for Christians in these new congregations and in communities widely separated from each other to be solidly grounded in the understanding that they were intimately connected with one another by faith, and interdependent with one another. That why he uses language about being a body and about being a new family – brothers and sisters.

We have two millennia of hearing that language, and so we may just gloss over it as standard Church language, but it was radical in its time. In neither Jewish culture nor pagan Gentile culture were people primed to think that someone outside their biological family, or ethnic group, or geographic area could be or should be their true family.

And yet, that is exactly what Paul is saying. And because Christians are one family, God has given us gifts that we are to share with one another for the benefit of the whole, in service to Christ’s mission in the world. Those gifts are given to us by God’s grace – whether they are gifts we have wanted, or not! – and they differ from each other. Everyone does not get the same gift.

So what were those gifts that Paul mentioned in this passage? He lists seven here, but in other letters he mentions other gifts. Perhaps these were the ones given to the Roman church specifically, or ones they needed to focus on.

He speaks of prophecy, ministry, teaching, exhortation, giving, leading, and compassion. Prophecy, remember, is a direct word from God to the community, not foretelling the future. Ministry has to do with serving others. Teaching refers to interpreting and applying the Hebrew Scriptures, the words of Jesus and the Spirit-led experience of Christian living. Exhortation is encouragement for acting and living as a Christian, almost like coaching. Giving supplies the community with what it needs materially and financially to function properly. Leading reminds us that even though we say that “Christ is the head of the church”, God knows us well enough to know that we need visible human leaders to steer the ship in a Godward direction. Compassionate action is the way we care for those who suffer – within the Church, but especially outside of it. These aren’t just functions, like an organizational chart of who does what, but God-given gifts that benefit and energize God’s mission through us, the Body of Christ.

What is one of the gifts God has given you? It may not be one of these that Paul mentions; there are plenty of others. What is a gift that God has given you that benefits others, that contributes to the life of the Church as it is incarnated at All Saints’? Maybe you know clearly what your gift is, and you are already exercising it – or finding news ways to make use of it.

I know, for instance, that there are many among us with the gift of compassion, and with the gift of serving. We are blessed with some teachers, and a good number of givers, people with artistic and musical gifts. Some of our Saints are gifted intercessors – praying for others; some of gits of skilled crafts or writing. And a gift that may not be unique to us, but is something we are strong in: creative resourcefulness – and the most recent example of that is the new Rummage Thrift Shop that is taking shape: using what we have on hand, looking at it in a different way, and putting it to good use for God’s benefit.

So think for a moment about what your gift or gifts may be. Perhaps there is even some gift that is only now starting to emerge, called forth from the last five months of living in our pandemic framework. Maybe you are just starting to notice it. Or maybe you have been exercising your gifts throughout these last months, but we haven’t been together to see or hear about it.

It would be wonderful to have a line or two in an email or on a postcard from each one of you that said something like: “One of my gifts from God is…. And I have been putting it to good use these last five months by….” If you do that, you can help us to see more clearly the gifts that God has given to us as a whole for the ministry of the Church. It will also help us to understand more clearly how God has been at work in our midst, even when we haven’t been able to be together. It’s like our family taking turns opening our Christmas gifts one at a time, so we can each enjoy and appreciate what everyone has received. Because the more you exercise the good gifts God has given you, the stronger they become, the more visible God's presence is, and the greater your joy will be.

Let us pray.
Almighty God our heavenly Father, you declare your glory and show forth your handiwork in the heavens and in the earth: Deliver us in our various occupations from the service of self alone, that we may do the work you give us to do in truth and beauty and for the common good; for the sake of him who came among us as one who serves, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. ~ BCP


Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
August 23, 2020

She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly. Matthew  15:27-28

This is one of those Gospel stories that tends to make us feel a little uncomfortable about Jesus. It doesn’t quite fit with the image a lot of people have of him – dispensing goodness and kindness and healing to all people wherever he goes, never being abrupt or losing his temper, almost like a flat, one-dimensional painting. So, let’s look at this story a little more closely, and maybe we’ll get a better understanding of what is going on.

To begin with, Jesus goes to the region of the cities Tyre and Sidon, on the Mediterranean coast, north-west of Galilee, in what is now modern-day Lebanon. This is not a Jewish area; it’s outside of the lands ruler by King Herod; the people who live there are called Canaanites, or Syro- Phonecians.

But there’s nothing to stop Jesus from traveling there, no border patrol. We don’t know why Jesus went to this area. Maybe he wanted to be anonymous for a bit. Maybe he wanted a break from all the people who had heard of the wonder-working rabbi and came to him seeking healing, and hope, and even confrontation.

The story tells us that a local, a Canaanite woman, sees Jesus and starts shouting at him from a distance, asking for Jesus to have pity on her and to     help her daughter who was possessed by a demon. This woman is not Jewish; how does she know who Jesus is, and what he can do? Even the title she uses for him, “Son of David”, is a term used for the Jewish Messiah. How does she know that?  In using the term, the Canaanite woman is proclaiming a truth about Jesus that the disciples have yet to really grasp (we’ll hear more about this next week); how did that happen? The text doesn’t give us any answers about these questions, but they are worth pondering, nevertheless.

The Canaanite woman doesn’t presume to approach Jesus directly, but she calls out, shouts at him, begging him for help for her daughter. And Jesus pays no attention to her whatsoever. But she must have been persistent, calling after him and the disciples, trying to get their attention. And who could blame her. She sees in Jesus the power to deliver her daughter and restore her to freedom and a sound mind. I think any of us would do the same.

But the disciples are bothered by the woman’s shouting, and they go to Jesus and ask him to send her away, to get rid of her so that they won’t be bothered. And how does Jesus respond?  He refuses; he says he’s sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel – meaning that he is Messiah for the Jewish people, not anyone else. On hearing this, the woman comes close and throws herself at Jesus’ feet. She calls him “Lord” and once again asks for his help.

Now things really get interesting. Jesus says to her, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Calling someone a dog in the ancient Middle East was just as much of an insult then as it is now. But the woman is not put off by Jesus’ characterization of her Gentile status, and his not wanting to waste God’s blessings on someone outside the Jewish community.

Instead, she accepts the metaphor and presses on with it to make her point: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Surely God’s abundance is so great, that there will be enough for me and my daughter, even just a scrap of mercy and grace. Jesus then immediately applauds her for her faith, for her persistence, and trust that he could and would heal her daughter.

So what is going on here? How are we to make sense of this story? This is one of those times when God’s purpose and future rushes forward – even before Jesus is quite ready for it.

If we look at the broad sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures we see that one of its major themes is that God will one day draw all nations and peoples together as one human family, blessed by God regardless of ethnicity or race or geography. We heard an echo of that in the reading from Isaiah when God says that “my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.” This has been God’s plan all along, and the Israelites were chosen to be the stewards and custodians of God’s vision until the day came when this purpose could be fulfilled.

And this Canaanite woman – outside the official Jewish community – was an agent of bringing God’s future forward, all in a rush, and helping Jesus to be more aware of his vocation and God’s timing. Jesus is the Messiah, God’s Anointed, for all people, not just for the Jews.

And that’s often the way with really important changes and learning, isn’t it? We turn a corner and see a different perspective, realize that we have been missing important truth or parts of the picture, and at a very deep level things can never be the same again once we know – even if we don’t fully understand how this truth will unfold.

This summer we’ve had the opportunity to reflect on a time when God’s future came forward faster and sooner than many Americans thought we were ready for. The death of US Representative John Lewis has been the occasion to look back and reflect on the course and cause of civil rights in our country. From a distance of fifty-plus years it’s easy for the events of Topeka, Little Rock, Montgomery, Birmingham, Selma, Washington D.C. to be words on a page, a fait accompli.

But delving back into the stories and the television footage from the time has reminded me of the heartache, unjustified bloodshed, and persistence that helped to set in motion civil rights for African-Americans. John Lewis, Martin Luther King, C. T. Vivian (who also died this summer), Andrew Young, and so many others helped us to see the deepest and truest meaning of the words of the Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

And, of course, it was not only American values that the civil rights leaders were upholding, but Biblical values as well – the same vision of all people as part of God’s one human family that is referenced in Isaiah; a Beloved Community of all God’s people, where God’s desire is (as the prophet Amos declares) “[to] let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”
And this is the reason that so many clergy, lay people, and religious community members heeded Dr. King’s call to join the march from Selma to Montgomery in 1965. Our own David St. George, then Rector of All Saints’. answered that call and went to Selma to support the march. This vision of God’s purpose and God’s future was rushing towards them and towards our country and our churches and faith communities.

But as so often happens, we make a change, we pass a law, we declare something to be true and then we think it’s over and done – only to realize later that there is a great deal more effort, work, and prayer that needs to happen. That is certainly the case with the progress of civil rights in our country and the backlash from some quarters against them.

We know that laws alone don’t change attitudes and open hearts, as vital as legal changes are. Changing hearts and minds is the work of prayer, and attention, and countless conversations with others who are both like us and unlike us, the work of listening to God and sharing what we know to be God’s truth.

We can be like the Canaanite woman in this morning’s Gospel. We can be persistent, we can publicly recognize and announce God’s vision of all people being made in God’s image, with dignity and worth, brothers and sisters sharing in the abundant blessings of God’s creation, a Beloved Community.

We can be conduits of God’s future and the fullness of God’s kingdom in our midst. May we be blessed in our prayer, our action, and our proclamation.

Let us pray.
O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. ~ BCP, p. 815

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
August 16, 2020

In God’s creation of the world and providing humankind with all the elements we need for life God exercises providence – loving care. From a human point of view, we would say that this loving care includes foresight, as well; planning into the future. Remembering God’s providence reminds us of our dependence upon God; everything that we have is a gift that has been wisely and generously given to us by our loving Lord.

The Book of Common Prayer defines a sacrament as “an outward and visible sign of God’s inner and spiritual grace.” They convey the generous and gracious love of God to us (inner and spiritual) by tangible means (outward and visible).

The Church has two primary sacraments – baptism and Eucharist. The outward sign of baptism is water and the sign of the Cross made with chrism (blessed oil); the inner grace is new life in Christ. In Eucharist the outward sign is the bread and wine, and the inner grace is participation in God and being at one with fellow believers.

Five other sacramental rites are available in the Episcopal Church and are all vehicles of God’s grace, but are not rites that every Christian will necessarily be part of: Confirmation, Marriage, Reconciliation (private confession), Ordination, and Anointing at the Time of Death (“last rites”).

The word sacrament has to do with making something holy. The outward, tangible part of a sacrament reminds us that God uses the good creation he has made to be an avenue of divine grace and blessing for us.