Liturgy of the Word for the 13th Sunday after Pentecost, August 30, 2020

If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter we invite you to

DONATE HERE

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

A note about the structure of this webpage:

This page is set up to enable you to participate in the Liturgy of The Word, during which you will hear the sermon in its natural liturgical context; or you can scroll down the page to hear the stand-alone sermon webcast accompanied by the written text.

You can also view our return to eucharistic worship by clicking here.


Order of Service for the Liturgy of the Word

The Liturgy of the Word begins on page 355 of the Book of Common Prayer or online Eucharist Rt II here.

Podcast produced by Christian Tulungen.

The Prelude: Fugue and Finale (Sonata VI) by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847), Steven Young, organ

Welcome: The Rev’d Mark Sutherland, Rector

The Introit: “Ave verum corpus” by Josquin des Prez (c1450-1521), The St. Martin Chapel Consort

The Greeting: Blessed be God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and blessed be God’s Kingdom, now and for ever.

Hymn 401 “The God of Abraham praise,” The St. Martin Chapel Consort

1 The God of Abraham praise, who reigns enthroned above;
Ancient of everlasting days, and God of love;
the Lord, the great I AM, by earth and heaven confessed:
we bow and bless the sacred Name for ever blest.

5 The whole triumphant host give thanks to God on high;
“Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost” they ever cry;
hail, Abraham’s Lord divine! With heaven our songs we raise;
all might and majesty are thine, and endless praise.

Collect for Purity

The Gloria S 280, The St. Martin Chapel Consort

The Collect of the Day:

Lord of all power and might, the author and giver of all good things: Graft in our hearts the love of your Name; increase in us true religion; nourish us with all goodness; and bring forth in us the fruit of good works; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The First Reading: Exodus 3:1-15, read by David Blake

Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, The St. Martin Chapel Consort

Refrain: Sing to the Lord, and remember the marvels he has done, hallelujah.

1 Give thanks to the LORD and call upon his Name; *
    make known his deeds among the peoples.
2 Sing to him, sing praises to him, *
    and speak of all his marvelous works.
3 Glory in his holy Name; *
    let the hearts of those who seek the LORD rejoice.
4 Search for the LORD and his strength; *
    continually seek his face.
5 Remember the marvels he has done, *
    his wonders and the judgments of his mouth,
6 O offspring of Abraham his servant, *
    O children of Jacob his chosen.
23 Israel came into Egypt, *
    and Jacob became a sojourner in the land of Ham.
24 The LORD made his people exceedingly fruitful; *
    he made them stronger than their enemies;
25 Whose heart he turned, so that they hated his people, *
    and dealt unjustly with his servants.
26 He sent Moses his servant, *
    and Aaron whom he had chosen.

Refrain

The Second Reading: Romans 12:9-21, read by Sammi Muther

Hymn 593 “Lord, make us servants of your peace” (v. 1-2), The St. Martin Chapel Consort

1 Lord, make us servants of your peace:
Where there is hate, may we sow love;
Where there is hurt, may we forgive;
Where there is strife, may we make one.

2 Where all is doubt, may we sow faith;
Where all is gloom, may we sow hope;
Where all is night, may we sow light;
Where all is tears, may we sow joy.

The Gospel: Matthew 16:21-28, proclaimed by Linda+

Hymn 593 (v. 4-5)

4 May we not look for love's return,
But seek to love unselfishly,
For in our giving we receive,
And in forgiving are forgiven.

5 Dying, we live, and are reborn
Through death's dark night to endless day;
Lord, make us servants of your peace,
To wake at last in heaven's light.

The Sermon: Mark+  A stand-alone sermon recording and full text also appear below on this page.

The Nicene Creed: We recite together. Please note italicized inclusive language changes.

We believe in one God,
    the Father, the Almighty,
    maker of heaven and earth,
    of all that is, seen and unseen.
We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
    the only Son of God,
    eternally begotten of the Father,
    God from God, Light from Light,
    true God from true God,
    begotten, not made,
    of one Being with the Father.
    Through him all things were made.
    For us and for our salvation
        he came down from heaven:
    by the power of the Holy Spirit
        he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary,
        and was made human.
    For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;
        he suffered death and was buried.
        On the third day he rose again
            in accordance with the Scriptures;
        he ascended into heaven
            and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
        and his kingdom will have no end.
We believe in the Holy Spirit, God, the giver of life,
    who proceeds from the Father and the Son.
    With the Father and the Son is worshiped and glorified
    and has spoken through the Prophets.

    We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
    We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
    We look for the resurrection of the dead,
        and the life of the world to come. Amen.

The Anthem: “Let All Things Now Living” (text/arr. Katherine Kennicott Davis, 1892-1980), The St. Martin Chapel Consort

Let all things now living
A song of thanksgiving
To God the Creator triumphantly raise,
Who fashioned and made us,
Protected and stayed us,
Who guides us and leads to the end of our days.
God’s banners fly o’er us;
God’s light goes before us,
A pillar of fire shining forth in the night,
Till shadows have vanished
And darkness is banished,
A forward we travel from light into light.
 
His law he enforces
The stars in their courses,
The sun in his orbit obediently shine.
The hills and the mountains,
The rivers and fountains,
The deep of the ocean proclaim Him divine.
We too should be voicing our love and rejoicing;
With glad adoration and song let us raise,
Till all things now living
Unite in thanksgiving
To god in the highest,
Hosanna and praise!

The Prayers of the People: led by Linda+

The Lord’s Prayer, The St. Martin Chapel Consort

The General Thanksgiving

Almighty God, Father of all mercies, 
we your unworthy servants
give you humble thanks
for all your goodness and loving-kindness
to us and to all whom you have made.
We bless you for our creation, preservation,
and all the blessings of this life;
but above all for your immeasurable
love in the redemption of the world
by our Lord Jesus Christ;
for the means of grace,
and for the hope of glory.
And, we pray, give us such
an awareness of your mercies,
that with truly thankful hearts
we may show forth your praise,
not only with our lips, but in our lives,
by giving up our selves to your service,
and by walking before you in
holiness and righteousness all our days;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit,
be honor and glory throughout all ages. Amen.

The Peace

Hymn 48 “O day of radiant gladness” (vv. 1, 4), The St. Martin Chapel Consort

1 O day of radiant gladness, O day of joy and light,
O balm of care and sadness, most beautiful, most bright;
this day the high and lowly, through ages joined in tune,
sing "Holy, holy, holy" to the great God Triune.
 
4 That light our hope sustaining, we walk the pilgrim way,
at length our rest attaining, our endless Sabbath day.
We sing to thee our praises, O Father, Spirit, Son;
the Church her voice upraises to thee, blest Three in One.

The Final Blessing

The Postlude: All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name,” arr. Franklin D. Ashdown (b. 1942), Steven Young, organ

Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from ONE LICENSE with license #M-400498. All rights reserved.


Stand-Alone Sermon Podcast:
Charlie Girl contemplating the cost of discipleship
Exploration of Matthew 16:21-38

I last preached on the readings for Pentecost 13 in 2016. The Lectionary repeats over a three-year cycle. Rereading my response then –

I am struck by how differently the experience of living in 2020 demands a different response.

In 2016 I preached on the Exodus reading variously playing with the themes – firstly, of experience in the place beyond the wilderness – a place where we encounter God because it is devoid of the usual signposts that insulate us with the familiar – and secondly, the pulsating, humming nature of the divine name – which in the nature of Hebrew – allows the meaning of the divine name to oscillate between I am, who I am, and I will be, who I will be – an oscillation between present-time reality and future-time potential.

These themes, important as they remain, seem somewhat abstract in the brutal rawness of the time we now find ourselves living through. My search for a more visceral response directs me to a continuation of the exploration begun by Linda+ a fortnight ago and continued by me last week of Matthew’s depiction of Jesus as the messiah.

How did Jesus come to the realization that he was the messiah? Most of us – if we think about it – labor under the impression that he always knew from a very early age that he was the messiah. Confident in this knowledge – revealed to him through his unique relationship with God – he then proceeds through the events of his life – knowing at each step of the way -the shape of the future.

Omniscience – all knowingness – is the quality we so admire in our superheroes. So much of the Tradition plays into this theme of Jesus as a 1st-century superhero who moves through his life like an actor playing the role of Son of God – fully aware at each stage of how the story will end. Of course, it’s easy for us to collude with this presentation of Jesus. Like him, we also are all knowing –

for we too know how the story will end – coloring the way we experience each event the life of Jesus of Nazareth -AKA (also known as) the Messiah.

Last week Jesus’ true identity is starkly revealed in Simon’s confession of him as the Son of God, the Messiah. In the audience, we at this point smile knowingly – aha we knew so! But on stage, the secret is out even though for some mysterious reason – for the time being it must remain secret.

Now the disciples know his true identity. Has Jesus always known it or has he step by step, discovered it? Well this is the question but more to the point why does it matter?

Events move forward to the pivotal point in Matthew’s story with Jesus’ transfiguration on the mountain witnessed by Peter, James and John – and not to forget, by us as well.

It matters how Jesus comes to his realization as the messiah because it goes to the difference between Jesus as superhero actor – playing out the roll of messiah on the world stage – and the human Jesus who is like you and me is someone who is not all knowing –

and has instead to learn through experience what God wants of him -as he goes along.

In Matthew’s telling of the story we are now reaching the midpoint in Jesus’ ministry between his Galilean preaching and healing ministry and turning is face towards Jerusalem where like all good superheroes he knows what’s awaiting him.

In all stories the writer has an interpretation to be shared by the story’s hearers or readers. Matthew, writing after the fact – knows what Jesus’ prediction of this suffering, death, and resurrection at Jerusalem mean. For him it’s now historical fact.

But what if we read the story a little differently and see Jesus’ prediction not as an expression of his all knowingness, as in, now let me tell you all how this story ends – but as simply a prediction of probability? Living in this period of time, Jesus would have to have been extremely naive to think that his radical challenge to the status quo would go unanswered by a violent show of force. As we are currently uncomfortably aware, this is the response of all dictators or wannabe dictators to any kind of challenge or threat – let those who have ears to hear! Jesus was clearly a threat to the power structures within the Jerusalem beltway. He would have been deluded not to have had a pretty good idea of how – without a change of direction in his message -this was likely to end.

I want to invite us to reject our traditional interpretation of Jesus as superhero with special powers of all knowingness.

I want to invite us to reject our traditional interpretation of Jesus as superhero with special powers of all knowingness. I’m much more attracted to the interpretation – fully supported by a closer reading of Matthew chapters 15,16 and 17 – of Jesus learning along the way – of Jesus like all human beings – learning to piece together the fragments of his experience as he goes along – interpreting the future as the events of the present come to be better understood. This different reading of Matthew reveals that from his encounter with the woman in Sidon onwards, we clearly see Jesus coming to more fully understand what God wants of him.

As with Moses after his encounter with God in the burning bush – in the place beyond the wilderness – Jesus is coming to more fully understand and accept the mission God has for him.

For both Moses and Jesus – accepting God’s mission is a real challenge to their own constructed self-images – of who they might prefer to be  – that is if God had no other plans for them.

And here we come to the gist of Matthew 16:21-28. Acceptance of Jesus messiahship is not only a challenging task for him, but also for his followers. Simon’s OK with recognizing Jesus as messiah, but he’s definitely not up for going along with what this is going to mean for him and the rest of the band. His protest at Jesus’ prediction Lord forbid earns a sharp rebuke from Jesus to the effect of: wake up Simon and smell the roses -following me is not going to be a breeze.

Jesus spells out for the disciples what will be required of those who follow him. Eugene Peterson in his Bible translation known as The Message has an uncomfortable way of putting this when he has Jesus say:

Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat, I am. I am – get it? I am who I am/ I will be who I will be.

For most of us the NRSV translation:

If any want to become my follower, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me -

slips off the page – in one ear and out the other. That’s the problem with challenging words whose difficulty becomes smoothed over by our over familiarity with them.

Speaking personally, I’ve been struggling with what will it mean for me if I give up my self-help and accept self-sacrifice to – in the words of the Carrie Underwood song Let Jesus take the wheel?  

I am daily torn between gratitude and guilt. In the midst of the pandemic and its dire economic fallout – I and my family are well and financially stable. But it’s my very gratitude that is also the source of my guilt.  I and my family are well and financially stable when many people around us are at dire risk from the virus’ devastating effect on either their health or their livelihood – or both.

To this tension I can add a feeling of pervading anxiety. We all may be well and secure in my immediate family bubble but for how long? Although Al and I are likely to be OK, unless one of comes down with Coronavirus – as men we are in the dangerous age bracket. But what of the kids who like the vast majority of all Americans still in work are only one or two wage cycles away from financial peril.

The NRSV:

For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life 

becomes in The Message:

What kind of deal is it to get everything you want but lose yourself? 

I know in my heart of hearts that Jesus’ call to follow him requires more than I am comfortable giving.

What does the call to discipleship as Jesus spells it out in Matthew 16 mean for those of us who remain comfortably insulated at a time of unprecedented crisis for society and the planet? I don’t have an easily packaged answer and I suspect if I am honest – I’m not going to like the answer anyway. But what I do know is that I am deeply troubled by the question. I politely suggest we all should be. Amen


If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter, we invite you to

DONATE HERE.

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

Liturgy of The Word for the 12th Sunday after Pentecost, August 23, 2020

If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter we invite you to

DONATE HERE.

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

A note about the structure of this webpage:

This page is set up to enable you to participate in the Liturgy of The Word, during which you will hear the sermon in its natural liturgical context; or you can scroll down the page to hear the stand-alone sermon webcast accompanied by the written text.

You can also view our return to eucharistic worship by clicking here.


Order of Service for the Liturgy of the Word

The Liturgy of the Word begins on page 355 of the Book of Common Prayer or online Eucharist Rt II here. Podcast produced by Christian Tulungen.

The Prelude: Prelude on Converse by John. G. Barr (b. 1938), Steven Young, organ

Welcome: The Rev’d Mark Sutherland, Rector

The Introit: Introit by Iain Quinn (b. 1973), The St. Martin Chapel Consort

The Greeting: Blessed be God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and blessed be God’s Kingdom, now and for ever.

Hymn 302 “Father, we thank thee who hast planted,” The St. Martin Chapel Consort

1 Father, we thank Thee who hast planted
Thy holy Name within our hearts.
Knowledge and faith and life immortal
Jesus Thy Son to us imparts.
Thou, Lord, didst make all for Thy pleasure,
didst give man food for all his days,
giving in Christ the Bread eternal;
Thine is the pow'r, be Thine the praise.

2 Watch o'er Thy church, O Lord, in mercy,
save it from evil, guard it still.
Perfect it in Thy love, unite it,
cleansed and conformed unto Thy will.
As grain, once scattered on the hillsides,
was in this broken bread made one,
so from all lands Thy church be gathered
into Thy kingdom by Thy Son.

Collect for Purity

The Gloria S 277, The St. Martin Chapel Consort

The Collect of the Day:

Grant, O Merciful God, that your Church, being gathered together in unity by your Holy Spirit, may show forth your power among all peoples, to the glory of your Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The First Reading: Exodus 1:8-2:10, read by Fla Lewis

Psalm 124

Refrain: Our help is in the name of the Lord.

1  If the LORD had not been on our side,
    let Israel now say;
2 If the LORD had not been on our side,
    when enemies rose up against us;
3 Then would they have swallowed us up alive
    in their fierce anger toward us;
4 Then would the waters have overwhelmed us
    and the torrent gone over us;
5 Then would the raging waters
    have gone right over us.
6 Blessed be the LORD!
    he has not given us over to be a prey for their teeth.
7 We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowler;
    the snare is broken, and we have escaped.
8 Our help is in the Name of the LORD,
    the maker of heaven and earth.

Refrain

The Second Reading: Romans 12:1-8, read by Melinda DelCioppio

Hymn 522 “Glorious things of thee are spoken” (v. 1), The St. Martin Chapel Consort

1 Glorious things of thee are spoken,
Zion, city of our God;
he whose word cannot be broken
formed thee for his own abode;
on the Rock of Ages founded,
what can shake thy sure repose?
With salvation's walls surrounded,
thou may'st smile at all thy foes.

The Gospel: Matthew 16:13-20, proclaimed by Mark+

Hymn 522 (v. 4)

4 Blest inhabitants of Zion,
washed in the Redeemer's blood!
Jesus, whom their souls rely on,
makes them kings and priests to God.
'Tis his love his people raises
over self to reign as kings:
and as priests, his solemn praises
each for a thank-offering brings.

The Sermon: Mark+  A stand-alone sermon recording and full text also appear below on this page.

The Nicene Creed: We recite together. Please note italicized inclusive language changes.

We believe in one God,
    the Father, the Almighty,
    maker of heaven and earth,
    of all that is, seen and unseen.
We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
    the only Son of God,
    eternally begotten of the Father,
    God from God, Light from Light,
    true God from true God,
    begotten, not made,
    of one Being with the Father.
    Through him all things were made.
    For us and for our salvation
        he came down from heaven:
    by the power of the Holy Spirit
        he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary,
        and was made human.
    For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;
        he suffered death and was buried.
        On the third day he rose again
            in accordance with the Scriptures;
        he ascended into heaven
            and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
        and his kingdom will have no end.
We believe in the Holy Spirit, God, the giver of life,
    who proceeds from the Father and the Son.
    With the Father and the Son is worshiped and glorified
    and has spoken through the Prophets.

    We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
    We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
    We look for the resurrection of the dead,
        and the life of the world to come. Amen.

The Anthem: “Come, Ever Gracious Son of God” by George Frideric Handel (1685-1759), The St. Martin Chapel Consort

Come, ever-gracious Son of God, come,
And with Thee bring Thy joyous train.
For Thee we long, and cry for Thee,
With whom eternal peace doth reign.

The Prayers of the People: led by Linda+

The Lord’s Prayer, The St. Martin Chapel Consort

The General Thanksgiving

Almighty God, Father of all mercies, 
we your unworthy servants
give you humble thanks
for all your goodness and loving-kindness
to us and to all whom you have made.
We bless you for our creation, preservation,
and all the blessings of this life;
but above all for your immeasurable
love in the redemption of the world
by our Lord Jesus Christ;
for the means of grace,
and for the hope of glory.
And, we pray, give us such
an awareness of your mercies,
that with truly thankful hearts
we may show forth your praise,
not only with our lips, but in our lives,
by giving up our selves to your service,
and by walking before you in
holiness and righteousness all our days;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit,
be honor and glory throughout all ages. Amen.

The Peace

Hymn 343 “Shepherd of Souls” (vv. 1, 4), The St. Martin Chapel Consort

1 Shepherd of souls, refresh and bless
thy chosen pilgrim flock
with manna in the wilderness,
with water from the rock.

4 Lord, sup with us in love divine,
thy Body and thy Blood,
that living bread, that heavenly wine,
be our immortal food.

The Final Blessing

The Postlude:  Mvmt. III from Concerto in B minor after Vivaldi by Johann G. Walter (1684-1748) , Steven Young, organ

Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from ONE LICENSE with license #M-400498. All rights reserved.


Stand-Alone Sermon Podcast:

On the Way to Something New

Charlie Girl hard at work
An exploration of Identity in Matthew 15 & 16
The Rev. Mark Sutherland

In Matthew 16 :13-20 Jesus asks his disciples who do people say the Son of Man is? It’s an interesting posing of the question which is less who am I, and more who do others think I am? Whatever the question meant for Jesus – we are reminded that any question of identity is as much about how others experience us as it is to do with anything we think or feel about ourselves.

Last week we read the story from Matthew 15 in which Jesus leaves Jewish Galilee and crosses the border into the area of modern Lebanon where he encounters a woman from Sidon who confronts him with a request. I say confronts him because her request is a direct challenge to his identity. To add insult to injury, the challenger was not only a Gentile – bad enough – but a woman to boot – something damming according to the attitudes of Jesus’ time.

However, this gentile woman is the first person in the Gospels who addresses Jesus as Lord, Son of David, which is historic code for Jesus the messiah. Recognition of his historic Jewish identity by a Gentile evokes within Jesus a conflict of identity. Here he is for the first time recognized as the Messiah by a gentile woman who asks for his help. We saw him struggling with a dilemma.

If he is the Jewish messiah, what business has Jesus being among Gentiles?

In her very fine exposition of this last week, Linda+ explored the theme of walls segregating who’s in from who’s out. Jesus belongs to those who are inside the wall and this woman – she’s definitely part of those who are outside God’s dispensation – at least according to traditional Jewish thinking. Jesus’ first response is awkward and signals his inner conflict as the collision of expectations within him brings the wall of expectation separating Jew from Gentile, crashing down.

The scene is now set for the exchange between Jesus and Peter in chapter 16 where Jesus is back in Jewish Galilee, among his disciples. Fresh from the explosion of self-understanding that took place in Sidon – he poses the question – so who do the Jews say I am? Only Simon Peter gets it right. You are – Peter says – the Messiah, Son of the living God.

Jesus is no longer Lord, the Son of David – that is the historic messiah – an image loaded with historic expectations of warrior liberator. Peter proclaims that he is none other than Son of the living God.

Son of the living God represents a crucial shift in understanding, i.e. he is no longer a prisoner of exclusive Jewish expectations predicated on the segregation of Jew from Gentile but the agent of the God of living who is constantly evolving in real time.

Jesus’ messiahship is the mark of God speaking in a new way – into the challenges and opportunities of a world in turmoil – a world on its way to becoming something new.

The question of identity is the central question that is very much of the moment for us in the United States.  We are asking ourselves the question: what kind of nation do we see ourselves being? Beneath the blanket of nationhood, comes the deeper more problematic question: who are we as communities of people?  

There are historic answers to that question – some inspiring and some shameful. Our current struggle is to find a contemporary answer to the question of identity– an answer in living time within a world in turmoil on the way to becoming something new.

Matters of identity are simple if we think of ourselves as members of like minded communities – communities where we all look the same, think the same, act the same. And the trend of recent times has been to simplify the questions of identity by increasingly corralling ourselves into communities of likeness. But our society is a patchwork of communities of mixed likeness, within which values, patterns of living, attitudes and world views are sharply contested along lines of race and class, privilege and deprivation, power and powerlessness. In short, our society is a broken society – an expression of a world out of whack (Richard Swanson).

A broken society offers a powerful invitation for unleashing the enormous potential for healing and change.

Of course, at the core of our identity lies the personal question: who am I / who do others see me as? That’s a very difficult question to answer indeed.

If I take myself as an example. I like to think of myself as someone who believes in kindness and compassion, and the maxim moderation in all things. My experience of my own – usually well-hidden vulnerability – leads me to instinctively resonate with Paul’s plea in Romans 12 to not think of myself more highly than I ought to think, but to think with sober judgement according to the measure of faith God has given me.

I try to think about others as well as myself and try to moderate my self-interestedness so as to recognize and make space for other’s self-interests. I have a generous spirit. I am also passionate about many things and often unsure how to correctly channel my passions. In an unjust world I oftentimes fear the intensity of my passionate hatred for injustice.

I can be prickly too, easily bored and frustrated. I can be sharp tongued and withering in judgement. In short, I’m a jumble of seeming contradictions which I seek to smooth-out beneath the practiced cultivation of quiet non anxious presence.

Perhaps there’s enough contrast in this rather simplified self-description for you – those who know me – to be able to verify some elements of my self-description as true to your experience of me.

Each of us is in reality a bundle of mixedness which we struggle daily to hold together within a constructed shell of our persona – a term for the carefully cultivated image we want to hold of ourselves and represent to the world. Lurking beneath that shell of persona is the fear, that if our jumbled-up mixedness is discovered – will others accept and tolerate the fragmentation of our brokenness?

I believe that even Jesus’ sense of identity evolved and developed as he learned from his experience. As Americans we are facing with an unprecedented urgency the question of identity – who are we and who do we aspire to be? I’ve contrasted the collective identity with how the question of identity might operate at the personal level because I believe that the root of the answer to the question who are we as a people lies in each one of us addressing the question: who am I / what kind of person do I aspire to be?

The answer to this question will tell each of us something about our fears and longings as we select the man not simply as the next President, but the man most able to build the qualities of governance that personify the values that we as individuals aspire to – and seek to live out in our own lives. Amen.

If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter, we invite you to

DONATE HERE.

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

Liturgy of The Word for the 11th Sunday after Pentecost, August 16, 2020

If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter we invite you to

DONATE HERE.

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

A note about the structure of this webpage:

This page is set up to enable you to participate in the Liturgy of The Word, during which you will hear the sermon in its natural liturgical context; or you can scroll down the page to hear the stand-alone sermon webcast accompanied by the written text.

You can also view our return to eucharistic worship by clicking here.


Order of Service for the Liturgy of the Word

The Liturgy of the Word begins on page 355 of the Book of Common Prayer or online Eucharist Rt II here. Podcast was recorded, edited, and produced by Christian Tulungen.

Prelude: “Prière a Notre Dame” (Suite gothique) by Leon Boëllmann (1862-1897), Steven Young, organ

Welcome: The Rev’d Mark Sutherland, Rector

Introit: “O frondens virga” by Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort

The Greeting: Blessed be God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and blessed be God’s Kingdom, now and for ever.

Hymn 307 “Lord, enthroned in heavenly splendor” (vv. 1, 5), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 Lord, enthroned in heavenly splendor,
first-begotten from the dead.
Thou alone, our strong defender,
liftest up thy people’s head.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Jesus, true and living bread!
Jesus, true and living bread!

5 Life-imparting heavenly Manna,
smitten Rock with streaming side,
heaven and earth with loud hosanna
worship thee, the Lamb who died.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Risen, ascended, glorified!
Risen, ascended, glorified!

Collect for Purity

The Gloria S 277, The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

The Collect of the Day:

Almighty God, you have given your only Son to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also an example of godly life: Give us grace to receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work, and to follow daily in the blessed steps of his most holy life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

First Reading: Genesis 45:1-15, read by Marty Flaherty

Psalm 133

Refrain: How good and pleasant it is when breathren live together in unity!

1 Oh, how good and pleasant it is,
    when brethren live together in unity!
2 It is like fine oil upon the head
    that runs down upon the beard,
3 Upon the beard of Aaron,
    and runs down upon the collar of his robe.
4 It is like the dew of Hermon
    that falls upon the hills of Zion.
5 For there the LORD has ordained the blessing:
    life for evermore.

Refrain

Second Reading: Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32, read by Amy Esposito

Hymn 690 “Guide me, O thou great Jehovah” (v. 1-2), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 Guide me, O thou great Jehovah,
pilgrim though this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty;
hold me with thy powerful hand;
bread of heaven, bread of heaven,
feed me now and evermore,
feed me now and evermore.

2 Open now the crystal fountain,
whence the healing stream doth flow;
let the fire and cloudy pillar
lead me all my journey through;
strong deliverer, strong deliverer.
be thou still my strength and shield,
be thou still my strength and shield.

The Gospel: Matthew 14:22-33, proclaimed by Mark+

Hymn 390 (v. 3)

3 When I tread the verge of Jordan,
bid my anxious fears subside;
death of death, and hell's destruction,
land me safe on Canaan's side;
songs of praises, songs of praises,
I will ever give to thee,
I will ever give to thee.

The Sermon: Linda+  A stand-alone sermon recording and full text also appear below on this page.

The Nicene Creed: We recite together. Please note italicized inclusive language changes.

We believe in one God,
    the Father, the Almighty,
    maker of heaven and earth,
    of all that is, seen and unseen.
We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
    the only Son of God,
    eternally begotten of the Father,
    God from God, Light from Light,
    true God from true God,
    begotten, not made,
    of one Being with the Father.
    Through him all things were made.
    For us and for our salvation
        he came down from heaven:
    by the power of the Holy Spirit
        he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary,
        and was made human.
    For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;
        he suffered death and was buried.
        On the third day he rose again
            in accordance with the Scriptures;
        he ascended into heaven
            and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
        and his kingdom will have no end.
We believe in the Holy Spirit, God, the giver of life,
    who proceeds from the Father and the Son.
    With the Father and the Son is worshiped and glorified
    and has spoken through the Prophets.

    We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
    We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
    We look for the resurrection of the dead,
        and the life of the world to come. Amen.

The Anthem: “Gaelic Blessing” by John Rutter (b. 1945), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.
Deep peace of Christ,
of Christ the light of the world to you.
Deep peace of Christ to you.

Prayers of the People: led by Linda+

The Lord’s Prayer

The General Thanksgiving

Almighty God, Father of all mercies, 
we your unworthy servants
give you humble thanks
for all your goodness and loving-kindness
to us and to all whom you have made.
We bless you for our creation, preservation,
and all the blessings of this life;
but above all for your immeasurable
love in the redemption of the world
by our Lord Jesus Christ;
for the means of grace,
and for the hope of glory.
And, we pray, give us such
an awareness of your mercies,
that with truly thankful hearts
we may show forth your praise,
not only with our lips, but in our lives,
by giving up our selves to your service,
and by walking before you in
holiness and righteousness all our days;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit,
be honor and glory throughout all ages. Amen.

The Peace

Hymn 537 “Christ for the world we sing” (vv. 1, 4), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 Christ for the world we sing!
The world to Christ we bring
with loving zeal;
the poor and them that mourn,
the faint and overborne,
sin-sick and sorrow-worn,
whom Christ doth heal.

4 Christ for the world we sing!
The world to Christ we bring
with joyful song;
the newborn souls, whose days,
reclaimed from error's ways,
inspired with hope and praise,
to Christ belong.

Final Blessing

The Postlude:  “Menuet gothique” (Suite gothique) by Boëllmann , Steven Young, organ

Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from ONE LICENSE with license #M-400498. All rights reserved.


Stand-Alone Sermon Podcast:

Outside/In

The Rev. Linda Mackie Griggs

In 1914 Robert Frost wrote:

Before I built a wall I’d ask to know

what I was walling in or walling out,

And to whom I was like to give offense.

At the risk of ‘Frost-splaining’ to a bunch of New Englanders, the beauty of the poem, “Mending Wall” is the way it speaks a universal truth about insiders and outsiders. Human beings have always seemed to find ways to “other” one another—even to go so far as to question each other’s worthiness to stand on this earth.

Frost continues,

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.

Perhaps. But that “something” isn’t human nature at its most broken. Sadly, at our worst, we’re all about walls. Somebody always has to be Out.  Because, apparently, somebody always has to be In.

And we tend to establish rules that govern which is which. Those rules are the walls that we build based on our assumptions, right or wrong—rules of behavior, of physical characteristics, or even of our opinions. We have come to litmus-test each other seemingly on everything, even to the point, for example, that we have turned a face mask into a political value judgment rather than an objective health measure.

We’re walling ourselves to death, if we’re not careful.

Sadly, at our worst, we’re all about walls. Somebody always has to be Out. Because, apparently, somebody always has to be In.

In the verses just prior to our Gospel passage this morning, the Temple authorities criticized Jesus’ disciples for not washing their hands before they ate. While we can definitely identify with concern for hand washing as a matter of hygiene (especially now,) Jesus zeroed in on the more pressing point, which was that the authorities had let their purity codes become a purity wall.

The Pharisees weren’t evil—they were completely sincere—they believed that adherence to the Law brought them closer to God’s promise. But Jesus was frustrated that they had substituted external cleanliness for internal godliness; they had lost perspective of what true spiritual health looks like. Purity codes had become a substitute for right relationship with one’s neighbor.

“. . . what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft…. These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile.”

Jesus, ever the outsider on the side of the outsiders, vividly reminded his hearers of the spirit that undergirds the letter of Jewish law, taking aim at the purity wall with a verbal sledgehammer about sewers that makes Sunday school kids stifle a giggle. Crude, yes, but it makes the point, doesn’t it?

But then something strange happened.

Jesus turned right around and modeled the exclusive behavior that he had just criticized in the Pharisees.

First, he entered the Gentile neighborhoods of Tyre and Sidon, where he was immediately approached by what Matthew calls, “a Canaanite woman.”

Which is interesting.  Canaanites had lived in that area in the past, but by this time the Canaanites were long gone by centuries.

So why would Matthew call her Canaanite?

Hold that thought.

Jesus turned right around and modeled the exclusive behavior that he had just criticized in the Pharisees.

Let us digress to Egypt, where we see Joseph in a tearful reunion with the brothers who had faked his death and sold him into slavery. The story of Joseph and his brothers serves an important function in the history of Israel. It acts as an etiology—an explanation of how things came to be—of why the Israelites of the Exodus had come to be in Egypt in the first place.

“Hurry and bring my father down here.”

It’s all right there in Joseph’s command to his brothers.  Jacob, also known as Israel, and his sons who would be the founders of the Twelve Tribes of Israel, relocated to Egypt . . .

. . . from . . . Canaan.

Almost everything about the Patriarchs is about Inside and Outside. Jacob’s family was not Canaanite, but his family had lived there as aliens—Outsiders—for a generation. They were outsiders in Canaan, who became outsiders in Egypt. And generations later they would be oppressed slaves who God would liberate through Moses. They would wander in the Wilderness for forty years and then enter the Land of God’s Promise…

. . . Canaan.

They would be Outsiders once again. But in a brutal chapter of Israel’s history as recorded in the book of Joshua they would effectively exterminate the Canaanites and take possession of their land. Because God had promised that Israel would be the Insiders–and the Canaanites would be Outsiders–in the worst possible way: By genocide.

Now, let us return to Jesus.

Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.”

Matthew wants us to know that the one who approached Jesus was part of the remnant of Israel’s attempt to eliminate those who were Outside of God’s Promise. She was an Outsider of historic and traumatic proportions. And she called him—what?

“. . . Lord, Son of David . . . ”

Son of David. Have mercy. Heal my daughter of a demon.

She—a Canaanite–believed.

And this is where it gets strange. Jesus, the outsider on the side of outsiders, ignored her. He treated her as an Outsider. And his disciples reinforced him—“send her away.” She’s shouting. She’s rude. She isn’t one of us.

This seems particularly harsh considering what we know about Jesus and his compassion for the marginalized. But it’s important to understand Matthew’s overall dual projects in writing his Gospel. First, he wanted to reassure his Jewish readers of God’s Promise to them that they were God’s People. This is why the imagery that Matthew often used portrayed Jesus as the New Moses. In first rebuffing the woman, then in cavalierly saying that he was only sent to the lost sheep of Israel, and finally by calling her a dog, Jesus starkly attended to Matthew’s first priority, even as he had just chastised the Pharisees for their wall-building. It was all of a piece in reassuring the Jewish community of God’s deep desire for right relationship with them.

God had promised that Israel would be the Insiders–and the Canaanites would be Outsiders–in the worst possible way: By genocide.

But that wasn’t the end of it.  The second objective of Matthew’s project was to expand God’s promise to the Gentiles. At the end of his Gospel, in The Great Commission, Jesus will say, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…” This is crux of it: Jesus, the New Moses, came to liberate all people. No more Insiders. No more Outsiders. No more walls.

So in this encounter, when the Canaanite woman kept hammering at the multi-layered wall of religion, ethnicity, gender, and propriety—this moment when she finally broke through to Jesus with her persistent faith, not only in his identity as Messiah but in her own worthiness as part of God’s Promise; this was the pivotal moment of Jesus’ conversion. Where his ingrained assumptions about her worth and worthiness were shattered.

“Woman, great is your faith!”

And her daughter was healed instantly. Not at the moment when she acknowledged Jesus’ identity, but when she asserted her own.

“I am not an Outsider.”

And down comes the wall.

Biblical scholar Richard Swanson writes: “…this [is] a scene of historic repentance: the Canaanites are shown to be capable of real faithfulness, and as such, should not have been slaughtered…[T]he argument for that slaughter ([that Canaanites will lead Israel] away from true faithfulness) is revealed to be false, at best mistaken, and more likely ignorant and inexcusable.”

And her daughter was healed instantly. Not at the moment when she acknowledged Jesus’ identity, but when she asserted her own.

This was, in Swanson’s words, a moment of remembrance—a convicting moment that turned everything inside out for Jesus and his mission. Inside. Out. When Jesus—even Jesus—received the gift of an opportunity for repentance, he made good use of it. He—even Jesus—responded by expanding his worldview and perspective in such a way that his Great Commission would change the world.

When we think about the walls that we have built—are building–and how we have found more and more ways to alienate each other, Insiders versus Outsiders, might we find hope in this encounter?

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,

That wants it down.

With God’s help, may we take down the walls around and between us, and become part of the mending of the world.


If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter, we invite you to

DONATE HERE.

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

Liturgy of The Word for the 10th Sunday after Pentecost, August 9, 2020

If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter we invite you to

DONATE HERE.

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

A note about the structure of this webpage:

This page is set up to enable you to participate in the Liturgy of The Word, during which you will hear the sermon in its natural liturgical context; or you can scroll down the page to hear the stand-alone sermon webcast accompanied by the written text.

You can also view our return to eucharistic worship by clicking here.


Order of Service for the Liturgy of the Word

The Liturgy of the Word begins on page 355 of the Book of Common Prayer or online Eucharist Rt II here. Podcast was recorded, edited, and produced by Christian Tulungen.

Prelude: Praeludium in D, BuxWV 139, by Dietrich Buxtehude (1637-1707), Steven Young, organ

Welcome: The Rev’d Mark Sutherland, Rector

Introit: “Bread of the World” (Hymn 301) by Heber/Bourgeois, Amanda Neves, soloist

The Greeting: Blessed be God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and blessed be God’s Kingdom, now and for ever.

Hymn 388 “O worship the King” (vv. 1, 5), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 O worship the King, all glorious above!
O gratefully sing his power and his love!
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days,
pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.

5 Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
in thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail;
thy mercies how tender! how firm to the end!
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend! 

Collect for Purity

The Gloria S 273, The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

The Collect of the Day:

Grant to us, Lord, we pray, the spirit to think and do always those things that are right, that we, who cannot exist without you, may by you be enabled to live according to your will; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

First Reading: Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28, read by David Blake

Psalm 85:8-13

Refrain: Show us your mercy, O Lord, and grant us your salvation.

8 I will listen to what the LORD God is saying,
    for he is speaking peace to his faithful people
    and to those who turn their hearts to him.
9 Truly, his salvation is very near to those who fear him,
    that his glory may dwell in our land.
Refrain
10 Mercy and truth have met together;
    righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
11 Truth shall spring up from the earth,
    and righteousness shall look down from heaven.
Refrain
12 The LORD will indeed grant prosperity,
    and our land will yield its increase.
13 Righteousness shall go before him,
    and peace shall be a pathway for his feet.
Refrain

Second Reading: Romans 10:5-15, read by Laura Bartsch

Hymn 390 “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty” (v. 1), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation;
O my soul, praise Him, for he is thy health and salvation:
Join the great throng, psaltery, organ, and song,
Sounding in glad adoration.

The Gospel: Matthew 14:22-33, proclaimed by Mark+

Hymn 390 (v. 4)

4 Praise to the Lord! O let all that is in me adore him!
All that hath breath join with Abraham's seed to adore him!
Let the "Amen" sum all our praises again
Now as we worship before him.

The Sermon: Linda+  A stand-alone sermon recording and full text also appear below on this page.

The Nicene Creed: We recite together. Please note italicized inclusive language changes.

We believe in one God,
    the Father, the Almighty,
    maker of heaven and earth,
    of all that is, seen and unseen.
We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
    the only Son of God,
    eternally begotten of the Father,
    God from God, Light from Light,
    true God from true God,
    begotten, not made,
    of one Being with the Father.
    Through him all things were made.
    For us and for our salvation
        he came down from heaven:
    by the power of the Holy Spirit
        he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary,
        and was made human.
    For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;
        he suffered death and was buried.
        On the third day he rose again
            in accordance with the Scriptures;
        he ascended into heaven
            and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
        and his kingdom will have no end.
We believe in the Holy Spirit, God, the giver of life,
    who proceeds from the Father and the Son.
    With the Father and the Son is worshiped and glorified
    and has spoken through the Prophets.

    We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
    We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
    We look for the resurrection of the dead,
        and the life of the world to come. Amen.

The Anthem: “Over My Head,” Black-America spiritual (arr. Clayton White), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

Over my head, I hear music in the air. There must be a God somewhere.
Over my head, I see trouble in the air. There must be a God somewhere.
Over my head, I feel glory in the air. There must be a God somewhere.

Prayers of the People: led by Linda+

The Lord’s Prayer

The General Thanksgiving

Almighty God, Father of all mercies, 
we your unworthy servants
give you humble thanks
for all your goodness and loving-kindness
to us and to all whom you have made.
We bless you for our creation, preservation,
and all the blessings of this life;
but above all for your immeasurable
love in the redemption of the world
by our Lord Jesus Christ;
for the means of grace,
and for the hope of glory.
And, we pray, give us such
an awareness of your mercies,
that with truly thankful hearts
we may show forth your praise,
not only with our lips, but in our lives,
by giving up our selves to your service,
and by walking before you in
holiness and righteousness all our days;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit,
be honor and glory throughout all ages. Amen.

The Peace

Hymn 414 “God, my King, thy might confessing” (vv. 1, 2, 6), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 God, my king, thy might confessing,
ever will I bless thy name;
day by day thy throne addressing,
still will I thy praise proclaim.

2 Honor great our God befitteth;
who his majesty can reach?
Age to age his works transmitteth;
age to age his pow'r shall teach.

6 All thy works, O Lord, shall bless thee,
thee shall all thy saints adore.
King supreme shall they confess thee,
and proclaim thy sovereign pow'r.

Final Blessing

The Postlude:  Fantasie über “Joshua fit the battle of Jericho,”  by Jürgen Borstelmann (b. 1963), Steven Young, organ

Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from ONE LICENSE with license #M-400498. All rights reserved.


Stand-Alone Sermon Podcast:

Taking the Third Step

The Rev. Linda Mackie Griggs

“You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

I ’d like to begin with an oldie but goodie; what might be called a parable for hurricane season: Once there was a big storm coming, and the whole community frantically began to prepare. One man, when offered a ride to evacuate inland, told his friends that he was going to ride it out, saying he had faith that God would look after him.  So the wind blew and the rain came, and it began to flood. Some folks came by with a boat and, seeing the man on his front porch looking at the rising water, offered to take him to safety, but he said he had faith that God would save him. And the wind continued to blow and the waters rose still higher until he was up on his roof, and a helicopter came and hovered over his house, lowering a ladder for him to climb up. But he said no, thank you kindly, but he had faith that God would save him. So eventually the storm abated, the water receded, and the man’s neighbors came to his flooded house and found that he had drowned. But his soul had travelled to the afterlife, where he met God face-to-face and said, accusingly, “God! What happened? I had faith that you’d save me, but I ended up drowning!” And God said, “Child, I sent you a ride inland, a boat and a helicopter, what were you waiting for?”

Do we laugh in recognition? Do we see in this silly man our own misunderstanding of faith? Do we see, in his overly specific expectation of what God’s help would look like, our own blindness to God’s saving grace right in front of our noses, if only we would—have faith? 

What does it mean to have faith?

Today’s Gospel passage is one of the most familiar in the New Testament. It is also one of the ones that we think we know: Big storm, Jesus walking on water, Peter jumping out and taking a couple of steps, falling beneath the waves and then saved by Jesus, who tells him he just didn’t have enough faith. So the lesson is that we need to have more faith. Right? But like the man in the hurricane, we might benefit from another look at what we think we see.

Let’s look at the story with fresh eyes, as though we’ve never heard it before. Lay aside all assumptions and begin, not with what we think about faith, but what we know—about fear.

Peter had “little faith.” Just enough to challenge Jesus, enough to get out of the boat, and enough to take a couple of steps on the water.

We surely know, either literally or metaphorically, what it’s like to feel like we’re in a very tiny boat in a very big storm, buffeted by wind and waves, rocking back and forth, to and fro, water splashing over the gunwales, hard to keep our balance. Even for those who–like the disciples who were fishermen—have sea legs for tempestuous times, this is a frightening moment—a storm of day-to-day bad news washing over us, over and over.

For the occupants of the boat it was hard enough just to stay on their feet, so the mysterious appearance of Jesus coming toward them on the water was a new kind of assault. We minimize their terror because think we know the story, but consider the fundamental existential fear that comes from living in unsettled times—when the baseline emotional state for most people is that of deep anxiety. Consider now the disciples, confronted with the possibility that the one person who they had followed, trusted, and given their lives to, wasn’t even real. What a horrifying punch in the gut.

. . . [T]hey were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear.

But not Peter. He was the only one with just the right amount of—chutzpah—to actually challenge his Teacher.

“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

And Jesus took Peter up on it: “Come,” he says.

And Peter had just enough—chutzpah—to do it. 

Would you? Sit on the gunwale of a rocking boat, lift your legs over, brush the windblown hair out of your eyes, take a deep breath—and stand up?

Stand with Peter for a moment, perhaps ankle deep, lifting one foot and then the other. Does it take your breath away? Feel for a moment the amazement. The joy.

The power.

The power of your small self, accomplishing the seemingly impossible.

And then the wind, a little loss of balance, a gust of the reality of the challenge you have accepted, and it’s all over; you’re in over your head.

“Lord, save me!”

We think we know the story. We think we hear accusation in Jesus’ voice, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

But that’s not how Matthew says that Jesus describes faith. Jesus says in a later chapter that faith the size of a tiny mustard seed can move mountains; that the Dream of God itself is to be imaged in the power of that same mustard seed to grow like crazy into a bountiful shelter for God’s creatures.

Little, for Jesus, isn’t a problem.

Peter had “little faith.” Just enough to challenge Jesus, enough to get out of the boat, and enough to take a couple of steps on the water.

We think we know the story. But what did Jesus first say to the terrified occupants of the storm-tossed boat? Did he mention faith? No.

He said, Do. Not. Be. Afraid.

Here’s another oldie but goodie: The opposite of faith isn’t doubt; it’s fear.

Was Peter afraid he would sink below the waves?

Or was he afraid that he wouldn’t?

Might he have been suddenly overwhelmed by a lightning flash understanding of what it would mean to cross the water to Jesus and stand with him? The sudden understanding of what it would truly mean to realize his full power and potential as a follower of Jesus and partner in the inbreaking Dream of God?

Getting out of the boat, and taking the first and second steps, are part of having faith. The tougher challenge lies in the third and fourth steps, which is being faithful.

Oh, Peter, you of plenty of faith.

Getting out of the boat, and taking the first and second steps, are part of having faith. The tougher challenge lies in the third and fourth steps, which is being faithful.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in The Cost of Discipleship, puts it in terms of obedience.  He writes, “The road to faith passes through obedience to the call of Jesus. Unless a definite step is demanded, the call vanishes into thin air, and if [people] imagine that they can follow Jesus without taking this step, they are deluding themselves…”

Strong words from a man who knew the risk and cost of being faithful.

Bonhoeffer jumps us past what I think is the useless question of the precise quantity of faith we need, and takes us into the much more fruitful territory of how to live out the faith that we have; to ask ourselves what is calling to our deepest and truest selves, challenging us, as individuals, communities, and as a church, to have the courage, not just to have faith, but to be faithful. To act faithfully.

What calls us? What holds us back? Is it fear of failure, or of success? What could this storm-tossed world look like if we took, not just the first and second steps, but the third and fourth, living joyfully into Jesus’ invitation, wherever it may lead?

Take a deep breath.

Jesus says, “Come.”


If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter, we invite you to

DONATE HERE.

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

Liturgy of The Word for the 9th Sunday after Pentecost, August 2, 2020

If you are not a regular St. Martin’s supporter we invite you to

DONATE HERE.

Thank you for supporting our ministry during this period of physical distancing.

A note about the structure of this webpage:

This page is set up to enable you to participate in the Liturgy of The Word, during which you will hear the sermon in its natural liturgical context or you can scroll down the page to hear the stand alone sermon webcast accompanied by the written text.

You can also view our return to eucharistic worship by clicking here.


Order of Service for the Liturgy of the Word

The Liturgy of the Word begins on page 355 of the Book of Common Prayer or online Eucharist Rt II here. Liturgy of the Word podcast was recorded, edited, and produced by Christian Tulungen.

Prelude: Praeludium in C, BuxWV 137, by Dietrich Buxtehude (1637-1707), Steven Young, organ

Welcome: The Rev’d Mark Sutherland, Rector

Introit: “Sound Forth the Trumpet in Zion” by Thomas Morley (c1557-1602), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

The Greeting: Blessed be God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and blessed be God’s Kingdom, now and for ever.

Hymn 48 “O day of radiant gladness” (vv. 1, 4), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 O day of radiant gladness, O day of joy and light,
O balm of care and sadness, most beautiful, most bright;
this day the high and lowly, through ages joined in tune,
sing "Holy, holy, holy" to the great God Triune.
 
4 That light our hope sustaining, we walk the pilgrim way,
at length our rest attaining, our endless Sabbath day.
We sing to thee our praises, O Father, Spirit, Son;
the Church her voice upraises to thee, blest Three in One.

Collect for Purity

The Gloria S 280, The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

The Collect of the Day:

Let your continual mercy, O Lord, cleanse and defend your Church; and, because it cannot continue in safety without your help, protect and govern it always by your goodness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

First Reading: Genesis 32:22-31, read by Sarosh Fenn

Psalm 17:1-7, 16

Refrain: Keep me, O Lord, as the apple of your eye; hide me under the shadow of your wings.

1 Hear my plea of innocence, O LORD; give heed to my cry;
   listen to my prayer, which does not come from lying lips.
2 Let my vindication come forth from your presence;
    let your eyes be fixed on justice.
3 Weigh my heart, summon me by night,
    melt me down; you will find no impurity in me.
4 I give no offense with my mouth as others do;
    I have heeded the words of your lips.
5 My footsteps hold fast to the ways of your law;
    in your paths my feet shall not stumble.
6 I call upon you, O God, for you will answer me;
    incline your ear to me and hear my words.
7 Show me your marvelous loving-kindness,
    O Savior of those who take refuge at your right hand
    from those who rise up against them.
16 But at my vindication I shall see your face;
    when I awake, I shall be satisfied, beholding your likeness.

Keep me, O Lord, as the apple of your eye; hide me under the shadow of your wings.

Second Reading: Romans 9:1-5, read by Joshua Maria Garcia

Hymn 578 “O God of love, O King of peace” (v. 1), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 O God of love, O King of peace,
Make wars throughout the world to cease;
Violent acts, O God, restrain;
Give peace, O God, give peace again!

The Gospel: Matthew 14:13-21, proclaimed by Mark+

Hymn 578 (v. 3)

3 Whom shall we trust but you, O Lord?
Where rest but on your faithful word?
None ever called on you in vain;
Give peace, O God, give peace again!

The Sermon: Linda+  A stand-alone sermon recording and full text also appear below on this page.

The Nicene Creed: We recite together. Please note italicized inclusive language changes.

We believe in one God,
    the Father, the Almighty,
    maker of heaven and earth,
    of all that is, seen and unseen.
We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
    the only Son of God,
    eternally begotten of the Father,
    God from God, Light from Light,
    true God from true God,
    begotten, not made,
    of one Being with the Father.
    Through him all things were made.
    For us and for our salvation
        he came down from heaven:
    by the power of the Holy Spirit
        he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary,
        and was made human.
    For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;
        he suffered death and was buried.
        On the third day he rose again
            in accordance with the Scriptures;
        he ascended into heaven
            and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
        and his kingdom will have no end.
We believe in the Holy Spirit, God, the giver of life,
    who proceeds from the Father and the Son.
    With the Father and the Son is worshiped and glorified
    and has spoken through the Prophets.

    We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
    We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
    We look for the resurrection of the dead,
        and the life of the world to come. Amen.

The Anthem: “Ave verum corpus” by Josquin des Prez (c1450-1521), The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

Hail, true Body of Christ, born of the Virgin Mary, truly suffering in sacrifice on the cross for humankind.

Prayers of the People: led by Mark+

The Lord’s Prayer

The General Thanksgiving

Almighty God, Father of all mercies, 
we your unworthy servants
give you humble thanks
for all your goodness and loving-kindness
to us and to all whom you have made.
We bless you for our creation, preservation,
and all the blessings of this life;
but above all for your immeasurable
love in the redemption of the world
by our Lord Jesus Christ;
for the means of grace,
and for the hope of glory.
And, we pray, give us such
an awareness of your mercies,
that with truly thankful hearts
we may show forth your praise,
not only with our lips, but in our lives,
by giving up our selves to your service,
and by walking before you in
holiness and righteousness all our days;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit,
be honor and glory throughout all ages. Amen.

The Peace

Hymn 302 “Father, we thank thee who hast planted,” The St. Martin’s Chapel Consort with Steven Young, organ

1 Father, we thank Thee who hast planted
Thy holy Name within our hearts.
Knowledge and faith and life immortal
Jesus Thy Son to us imparts.
Thou, Lord, didst make all for Thy pleasure,
didst give man food for all his days,
giving in Christ the Bread eternal;
Thine is the pow'r, be Thine the praise.

2 Watch o'er Thy church, O Lord, in mercy,
save it from evil, guard it still.
Perfect it in Thy love, unite it,
cleansed and conformed unto Thy will.
As grain, once scattered on the hillsides,
was in this broken bread made one,
so from all lands Thy church be gathered
into Thy kingdom by Thy Son.

Final Blessing

The Postlude:  Rondeau (Sinfonies de fanfare) by Jean Joseph Mouret (1682-1738), Steven Young, organ

Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from ONE LICENSE with license #M-400498. All rights reserved.


Stand-Alone Sermon Podcast:

A Table in the Wilderness

The Rev. Linda Griggs

My husband’s Uncle Roy died a few years ago, and the scattered extended family gathered in Hartsville, South Carolina. There was a memorial service at the funeral home, followed by a reception at a local Methodist Church. Now how it came to be there is interesting. Because Roy didn’t belong to the Methodist Church. He’d been raised Catholic, spent 17 years as a Baptist deacon, and he and Aunt Jerri had been going to the Episcopal Church for years. But Jerri had been a Methodist when she was younger, and there were a couple of church members who lived across the street from where Roy’s parents had lived for a long time. And that was enough–enough for the Methodist women to put on their aprons and mobilize to serve a bunch of grieving outsiders (including Yankees) who converged on Hartsville to remember and mourn Uncle Roy. And what a feast it was. Home-fried chicken. Cornbread. Green beans and lima beans. Homemade ham biscuits. Pound cake and banana pudding if you had room, and coffee, lemonade and sweet tea (the only kind.)  And in response to the profuse thanks from the family, the ladies simply responded, “It’s our ministry.”

It’s been seven years, and that story of Roy’s funeral is still told among our family with reverence, and even a tear or two. It’s pretty special when compassion, a little teamwork, and some home cooking come together in such a way that it touches the heart. When the ordinary takes on the aura of the sacred like that, the feeding becomes a kind of Eucharist.

You give them something to eat.

Today’s story of the feeding of the multitude is the only one of Jesus’ miracles to be included in all of the canonical Gospels. All four Evangelists found profound meaning in this layered episode of feeding–this intersection between hunger and abundance, need and blessing, desire and action.

When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd…

After Jesus had learned of the brutal murder of John the Baptist, he withdrew to grieve. But no kindly church ladies came along with baskets of fried chicken and banana pudding. Nor was he to find rest; the crowd followed him—they didn’t care how far they had to go, they just kept walking until they found him, out in the middle of desolate deserted nowhere. They brought nothing for the journey but their hunger for healing, comfort and good news. And in spite of his grief Jesus had compassion on them. So he went to work. It was his ministry.

The hour grew late, stomachs began to grumble, and the disciples wanted to send the people away to find their own dinner. Isn’t that the way it is sometimes; when confronted with a big problem, it is easiest to just try to make it go away to fend for itself. Don’t get too close; don’t get involved. But that’s not Jesus. Jesus, instead of sending the problem away, brought it closer.

You give them something to eat.

As many times as I’ve read and heard this passage I’ve never until recently noticed the grass. In three out of the four Gospel accounts Jesus receives the bread and the fish, and then has everyone sit down in the grass. Not on the ground. Not in the dirt, or on a rock. In every translation I checked, it says grass—the Greek chortos—grass, herbage, hay, or provender. Maybe not a lush lawn of Kentucky fescue, but neither is it arid and infertile. It makes you wonder.

The disciples wanted to send the people away to find their own dinner . . . Jesus, instead of sending the problem away, brought it closer.

Matthew tells us this is a desolate, deserted place. We equate it with the Wilderness where the Israelites wandered and complained, or where Jesus was famished and  tempted after his Baptism. Yet Matthew also implies that it is pasture where animals graze. Perhaps it’s both– an ironic intersection of wilderness and growth. Of hunger and abundance. Need and fulfillment.

We have nothing but five loaves and two fish.

Nothing. But…

We can spend all the time in the world asking how or whether Jesus actually multiplied the loaves and the fish. But we might instead consider that this story is inviting us, today, to see two things in relationship: the hungry multitude nestled in the grass, the abundant compassion of God in the form of bread, and at the intersection of the two, we see Jesus. Blessing, and inviting and challenging us.

Jesus didn’t distribute the food. His disciples fed the multitudes from the prodigious bounty that God provided.

You give them something to eat.

The miracle of the loaves and fishes shows us how we as children of God are bound to each another and creation by both our need to be fed and our potential for compassion and generosity in feeding one another. Jesus didn’t distribute the food. His disciples fed the multitudes from the prodigious bounty that God provided.

And we are called to do the same. Especially now.

Nearly eleven percent of our neighbors in this country say that their households don’t have enough to eat. The Census Bureau reports that more than 25% have missed housing payments—rent or mortgage. People are choosing between food and medication more than ever. Oh, and the children: Over 20% of children face food insecurity at some point during the year. The pandemic has closed schools and summer camps that are sources of physical as well as intellectual nourishment.

And as of this writing the folks in Washington are ready to let vital unemployment benefits to 30 million unemployed children of God lapse rather than risk giving some of them too much money. More than they deserve. Too much of what can be made available for everyone in need if our priorities were straight.

Jesus, send them away to fend for themselves.

But Jesus says no.

Jesus assures us that it is safe to look at the world through the eyes of compassion instead of political expediency. Through eyes of abundance instead of scarcity.

Jesus has us all sitting in the grass—we just can’t collectively seem to see what that means. Jesus assures us that it is safe to look at the world through the eyes of compassion instead of political expediency. Through eyes of abundance instead of scarcity.

There’s a table grace that I learned a few years ago:

Lord, to those who have hunger, give bread; to those who have bread, give a hunger for justice.

What is our ministry to our neighbors who hunger? What shape can our hunger for justice take in this moment?

Listen to the vision of Isaiah:

“Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. …Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live.”

The prophet envisions a heavenly banquet. Every time we feed each other, whether it’s food pantry volunteers making take-out meals, Methodist ladies serving fried chicken to out of town strangers, or citizens protesting and flooding legislators’ inboxes with demands for economic and social justice—every time we draw closer to another in compassion and generosity, we participate in a foretaste of the heavenly banquet—a table set for Creation since the beginning of time. We just need to open our eyes to where we are sitting. 


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