Sermon: Heritage Sunday


Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, โ€œWhat were you arguing about on the way?โ€ After I read this and some of the other history of our church, I read the Gospel for today and had myself a little laughโ€ฆ Then they came to Enid; and when he was in the house he asked them, โ€œWhat were you arguing about on the way?โ€

The interesting thing about a churchโ€™s history is that you can really only talk about the buildings and the clergy, the people and who served, the money or the lack there of, and so on. What you canโ€™t really tell in the history of a church is how God moved in the people. How the power of the Holy Spirit transformed lives. How Jesus truly entered this house and began the work of the Kingdom of God in this place. The buildings, the people, and all are only a part of our heritage, because it is these workings of God in our lives and the lives of those around us that are reflects our true heritage, and that really is the most important thing.

Jesus โ€œtook a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, โ€˜Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.โ€™โ€ Our heritage is about welcoming the child, welcoming Jesus into our midst and loving him and loving one another, for what other sign can we show that God is present than by our love for Him and our love for one another? Does the height of a steeple prove that love? Or the size of our endowment? Or even the number of cars in the parking lot? Do any of these things demonstrate the love of God and the love of one another? Not really. They do demonstrate commitment and courage. They also show a desire to honor God in visible ways. None of this is bad or wrong, but what they canโ€™t show is love, because love is an action of the heart. True love is that which seeks the good of the other without regard for self and that is what it means to welcome the little child, but that is not something that can necessarily be documented. Instead, it is a feeling, almost a presence.

This past week, we had our Saints Book Club. Weโ€™ve just finished reading In This House of Brede. A beautiful story about the lives of the nuns living in a convent. The main character, Philippa, had come to the point when the older nuns would decide if she would be allowed to stay and become a fully professed sister. She was afraid they would not allow it, so she went to the sanctuary to pray, asking God to allow her to stay. The scene is set: โ€œThe light flickering by the tabernacle was warm, alive, and as if they were still there, she heard what the nuns had sung last night at Benediction: โ€˜Christus vincit, Christus regnat, Christus imperat.โ€™โ€ Christ conquers, Christ reigns, Christ commands. In that place, she could โ€œfeelโ€ the prayers from the night before, because as was stated, โ€œIf a place has been filled with prayer, though it is empty, something remains; a quiet, a steadiness.โ€ Our sanctuary is the same. You can โ€œfeelโ€ the presence of the prayers that have been said there over the last century, but itโ€™s not just thatโ€ฆ and it is the reason Iโ€™m so happy to be serving in this place, because, I can see the heritage in buildings and the books and the art, but more importantly, I can โ€œfeelโ€ that more important heritageโ€”that heritage of Godโ€™s work and transforming powerโ€”I can feel that you have always performed the work that Christ called on his disciples to perform. That is, in the name of Jesus, the child has always been welcomed here. In the name of Jesus, you have always loved and there really is no greater heritage than this.

This yearโ€ฆ your church is 128 years old. May the love you have shown in those years be a source of inspiration to continue in this great work of the kingdom for the years to come, until the great day of the Lordโ€™s return.

Let us pray: We thank you, heavenly Father, for the witness of your apostle and evangelist Matthew to the Gospel of your Son our Savior; and we pray that, after his example, we may with ready wills and hearts obey the calling of our Lord to follow him; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

St. Matthew’s original building.

Journal: September 1, 2021

Well… it wasn’t COVID (according to the two tests I took), but everything pointed in that direction. Cough, fever, congestion, no taste/smell, death warmed over, etc. It still bought me ten days of quarantine and although I’m not a huge people person… ten days is a bit much to be alone. Many thanks to all the messages, notes, breads, and cinnamon buns I received. Truly a blessing.

When it comes to no taste/smell, eating is just weird. What you discover is that temperature and texture become the primary attractions. A nice cold chicken salad with fruit, nuts, chunks of chicken… brilliant. Peanut butter on cheese is like having a wad of congealed, slightly solidified… you get the picture. It ain’t pleasant. Although, it was peanut butter that first keyed me in that I was missing those two senses. Yes… I always have a bit of peanut butter with my breakfast, but a week ago Tuesday, I opened the jar and… nothing. Really? And then it hit me. I thought, What is the most potent smelling item I have in the house? Answer: Benedictine! (Created my a monk in 1510 from 27 different plants and spices. Supposedly, only three people on the planet know the complete recipe… brilliant!) On a good day, you can take a solid sniff of Benedictine and you’ll likely burn your eyebrows off and most definitely all your nose hairs! It is delicious, but you must approach it with caution. It is meant for sipping and small sniffs. On that Tuesday, I picked up the bottle, removed the cap and gave a tentative… sniff. Nothing. I mean… nothing. I then grasped the neck of the bottled and breathed it in as though it were my dying breath… not even the vapors could penetrate the void of my sniffer! Granted, it was only 8-ish in the morning, but I gave myself a short taste….. my head bowed, my eyes teared, and my heart sank. Not even a tingle. I am happy to report that after ten days quarantine and two negative COVID tests, the sniffer and taster are back 90% with the exception of peanut butter. Odd.

Last week was spent mostly sleeping and waiting for test results. That is boring on many levels, but this week picked up and I was able to work some solid hours and read. I finished, In This House of Brede, and this evening completed, Billy Summers, by Stephen King. You should read Brede. An amazing and beautiful story. Billy Summers is a completely different kind of read. It is not your normal Stephen King supernatural. In fact, there is no supernatural in it (with the exception to a few excellent references to The Shining: The Overlook Hotel and that lively topiary out front.) Side-by-side, I would have to give Brede a solid โญ๏ธโญ๏ธโญ๏ธโญ๏ธโญ๏ธ and Billy โญ๏ธโญ๏ธโญ๏ธโญ๏ธ1/2. Sorry Mr. King, but side-by-side… yeah. Next up is one I read many years ago, Fahrenheit 451, but having recently reread 1984, I thought I should… remember. Definitely putting a dint in that stack… with several others waiting to join (I will resist you, Amazon!)

Movies… seriously? How is it so much money can go into making so many bad movies? I may have to make my own.

Tomorrow I get to re-enter the world. I understand that it has been hot out there and based on the news I’ve been reading… COVID or not, I am an exceptionally blessed individual. The world is a mess right now and is in need of your prayers. Say one or two, even if it only amounts to, “Dear God….” followed by the shaking of your head. He gets that. I’m certain He’s done a bit of that Himself here recently.

Oh… before I forget: Nikita is the name of the Pinot Noir that I’m currently making. It is not named after the American version of this movie or the TV series (ugh), but after the original, La Femme Nikita, starring Anne Parillaud (hubahuba), written and directed by Luc Besson. Why Nikita… I’m thinking she will live up to this name. Will not be bottled until early October, but… wowza. Lots of flavor (even for one who is only at 90% tasting!) Haven’t come up with a label for it yet, but that image right there may just do the trick.

What I’ve learned: It won’t spoil the plot, so… Billy Summers is partly about a guy who is writing a book. It speaks of the joys and the “zone” you get in while doing so. That said, it made me hungry to write again. I’ve had a few fitful starts here recently, but I think I’m ready now. I actually don’t do well with too much time on my hand (which I’ve had), I don’t feel any pressure, but now… oh, yeah… I just looked at my calendar. Bring on a bit of pressure and bring on the words. Love it all.

Thought for the day: you will never know true desperation until you hang onto a C-17 cargo plane during takeoff in hopes that you can escape your current situation. Live your life like Zaki Anwari would have lived his had he survived. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.