Sunday, July 31, 2016

Universally Amazing

Hubble Image Source

July 31, 2016

Ezekiel 1
In the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the fifth day of the month, as I was among the exiles by the river Chebar, the heavens were opened, and I saw visions of God. On the fifth day of the month (it was the fifth year of the exile of King Jehoiachin), the word of the Lord came to the priest Ezekiel son of Buzi, in the land of the Chaldeans by the river Chebar; and the hand of the Lord was on him there.

As I looked, a stormy wind came out of the north: a great cloud with brightness around it and fire flashing forth continually, and in the middle of the fire, something like gleaming amber. In the middle of it was something like four living creatures. This was their appearance: they were of human form. Each had four faces, and each of them had four wings. Their legs were straight, and the soles of their feet were like the sole of a calf’s foot; and they sparkled like burnished bronze. Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands. And the four had their faces and their wings thus: their wings touched one another; each of them moved straight ahead, without turning as they moved. 10 As for the appearance of their faces: the four had the face of a human being, the face of a lion on the right side, the face of an ox on the left side, and the face of an eagle; 11 such were their faces. Their wings were spread out above; each creature had two wings, each of which touched the wing of another, while two covered their bodies. 12 Each moved straight ahead; wherever the spirit would go, they went, without turning as they went. 13 In the middle of the living creatures there was something that looked like burning coals of fire, like torches moving to and fro among the living creatures; the fire was bright, and lightning issued from the fire. 14 The living creatures darted to and fro, like a flash of lightning.
15 As I looked at the living creatures, I saw a wheel on the earth beside the living creatures, one for each of the four of them. 16 As for the appearance of the wheels and their construction: their appearance was like the gleaming of beryl; and the four had the same form, their construction being something like a wheel within a wheel. 17 When they moved, they moved in any of the four directions without veering as they moved. 18 Their rims were tall and awesome, for the rims of all four were full of eyes all around. 19 When the living creatures moved, the wheels moved beside them; and when the living creatures rose from the earth, the wheels rose. 20 Wherever the spirit would go, they went, and the wheels rose along with them; for the spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels. 21 When they moved, the others moved; when they stopped, the others stopped; and when they rose from the earth, the wheels rose along with them; for the spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels.

22 Over the heads of the living creatures there was something like a dome, shining like crystal, spread out above their heads. 23 Under the dome their wings were stretched out straight, one toward another; and each of the creatures had two wings covering its body. 24 When they moved, I heard the sound of their wings like the sound of mighty waters, like the thunder of the Almighty, a sound of tumult like the sound of an army; when they stopped, they let down their wings. 25 And there came a voice from above the dome over their heads; when they stopped, they let down their wings.
26 And above the dome over their heads there was something like a throne, in appearance like sapphire; and seated above the likeness of a throne was something that seemed like a human form. 27 Upward from what appeared like the loins I saw something like gleaming amber, something that looked like fire enclosed all around; and downward from what looked like the loins I saw something that looked like fire, and there was a splendor all around. 28 Like the bow in a cloud on a rainy day, such was the appearance of the splendor all around. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.  When I saw it, I fell on my face, and I heard the voice of someone speaking.
Sermon: “Universally Amazing”

“Was Ezekiel chapter 1 actually the description of a spaceship landing?”

That’s the question from our little yellow box of sermon suggestions this week.  Now, some of you are already leaning forward in your pews, eager to hear about such a possibility.
Others of you are already letting your skepticism overtake you, and perhaps wishing you’d just gone out for brunch today.
For both of you, and those in between, let me encourage you to embrace this question with an open mind and a curious spirit.  Because it really is a fascinating question to ponder.

First, I feel I need to put all my cards on the table.
I am a total sci-fi nerd.  You may not know this.  (You may now wish you didn’t know this.)
I adore Star Wars and Star Trek (and know the difference between them, and that one is more fantasy than science fiction).
I find X-Files intriguing and amusing.
I was made to watch Fire in the Sky in school as a child and it absolutely terrified me.
Doctor Who – the British show about an alien who constantly saves the earth from other aliens as peacefully as possible – is probably my favorite television show.
So, you see, I come by my nerd card naturally.

I honestly don’t know if I believe in little green men.
I do know that the presence of water on Mars means life in some tiny, infinitesimal form is a possibility. 
I don’t know if there’s some massive government conspiracy to hide the reality of extra-terrestrials.                                                                    
I do know that the universe is constantly expanding, and there are 17 billion earth-sized planets in our galaxy, and there are an estimated 500 billion galaxies in the universe.[1] 
So, those three faithful words from last Sunday’s sermon are very appropriate regarding other life out there: I don’t know. 

Speaking of faith, let’s take that route, shall we?  Our question opens up the possibility that the fantastical apocalyptic vision of Ezekiel was a spaceship landing.  I believe this theory was made popular by German NASA engineer Josef F. Blumrich.  He set out to disprove the theory that Ezekiel saw a spaceship, and ended up confirming it, even designing a model of the “ship” he read described by Ezekiel.

Before we look at what ol’ Zeke saw, we need to remember who he was, and what his world was like at the time of his vision.

Ezekiel was a refugee.  At the beginning of the 6th century BCE, Babylonian armies had defeated Jerusalem.  The temple, God’s dwelling place: destroyed.  The elite of society, including Ezekiel: taken into exile.  They left behind all they knew: their families, their possessions, their homes, their place of worship. 
Ezekiel was a priest at that place of worship, and God called him, in the midst of all this terror and violence and displacement, to be a prophet.

His call story, which we just read, makes the burning bush look like a parlor trick.
It was absolutely amazing.
Well-known Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann writes in The Prophetic Imagination of why amazement was so key to Ezekiel’s vision:

The hope-filled language of prophecy, in cutting through the…despair and hopelessness, is the language of amazement.  It is a language that engages the community in new discernments and celebrations just when it had nearly given up and had nothing to celebrate.  The language of amazement is against the despair just as the language of grief is against the numbness.  I believe that, rightly embraced, no more subversive or prophetic idiom can be uttered than the practice of doxology, which sets us before the reality of God, of God right in the center of a scene from which we presumed God had fled.  Indeed, the language of amazement is the ultimate energizer…and the prophets of God are called to practice that most energizing language.

The language of amazement is the ultimate energizer.  Zeke’s language certainly did that.
When studying this text, something amazing leapt from the page for me: the word “like” or “likeness.”
Did you notice how many times I said those words in the reading?
25 times.
In 28 verses.

Over and over again, Zeke describes other-worldly (or alien), heavenly realities he saw.  But over and over again, he describes them using earthly, grounded terms.

This wild vision of wheels and creatures can only be described in language he already has.  So, he describes it as:
gleaming amber
living creatures
coals of fire
torches
flashes of lightning
a crystal dome
the sound of mighty waters
the sound of an army
a sapphire throne
a human form
the bow in a cloud on a rainy day 

Then, he finishes his impassioned amazement language with one key phrase:

“This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.”

And, no longer able to comprehend such glory, he literally falls on his face.  Plop.

Which is actually a common response to God’s glory in scripture.
Moses and Aaron did it.
David did it.
Abraham did it.
Joshua did it.
Daniel did it.
Ruth did it.
The Wise Men did it.
Jesus did it.

When faced with the overwhelming call of God and with the amazing glory of God, people fell on their faces.
Because sometimes God’s work is too astonishing for us to comprehend.  Especially if we find ourselves in a time of despair, hopelessness and exile.  The contrast between earth and heaven could not have been more stark for Ezekiel.

Did he see a spaceship?  I don’t know.  But heaven did come down that day, and he fell on his face before the God of all creation and knew that there was more glory in the universe than he could ever comprehend. 

I think that’s why science fiction stories about “life out there” are so compelling.  I think that might be why this question made its way into our little yellow sermon suggestion box.

Because when life down here seems too heavy with grief, or too tense with conflict, or simply too boring with the ordinary, the dream of other life somewhere in the universe is actually a comforting thought (unless you have an Independence Day sort of situation…).

And, though I can’t honestly answer the question of spaceships in Ezekiel, I can answer the question of “is there life out there?” with a resounding yes!

Because where there is God, there is life.  And where there is life, there is always room for amazement.  So, let us take a chapter from Ezekiel’s book, and trade our language of bitterness and anger for language of amazement.  Let us start describing our visions of God in ways that name a new reality of heaven breaking into earth, and be energized by such speech.

Heaven breaks into earth in a spiritual sense, but also in a scientific, literal sense and, though it’s not as fantastical as Ezekiel’s vision, it’s just as amazing, if not more so.

When we look at the evolution of our solar system, which, by the way, does not compete with an understanding of intelligent design by a Creator, we find that every part of this ordinary earth is woven through with something from the heavens.  They’re not sapphires or crystals like Ezekiel saw, but something even more amazing: diamonds.[2]

When our solar system was formed some 4.5 billion years ago, out of clouds and gas, most original ingredients were vaporized.  But diamonds from supernovae, or exploding stars, were strong enough to survive.  These tiny diamonds, so small that trillions could fit on the head of a pin, are said to be the source of heavy elements to form new stars and eventually, life on earth.

Mayne Ellis[3], inspired by this research, wrote this poem, which calls us to be prophets of amazement like Ezekiel:
But haven’t we always known?
The shimmer of trees, the shaking of flames
every cloud lined with something
clean water sings
right to the belly
scouring us with its purity
it too is awash with diamonds
“so small that trillions could rest
on the head of a pin”
It is not unwise then to say
that the air is hung close with diamonds
that we breathe diamond
our lungs hoarding, exchanging
our blood sowing them rich and thick
along every course it takes
Does this explain
why some of us are so hard
why some of us shine
why we are all precious
that we are awash in creation
spumed with diamonds
shot through with beauty
that survived the death of stars

This universe is shot through with beauty that survived the death of stars.  Is there amazing life out there?  Sure.  Is there amazing life within us still?  Absolutely.  Amen.


[1] http://gizmodo.com/5974389/if-there-are-17-billion-earth-sized-worlds-in-our-galaxy-the-universe-is-bubbling-with-life
[2] http://articles.latimes.com/1987-03-12/news/mn-9346_1_earth-from-exploding-stars
[3] http://reflections.yale.edu/article/womens-journeys-progress-and-peril/scientists-find-universe-awash-tiny-diamonds

Sunday, July 24, 2016

The Divine No


July 24, 2016
 Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-24

15 The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it. 16 And the Lord God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; 17 but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”

1  Now the serpent was more crafty than any other wild animal that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden; but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.’” But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not die; for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.

They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. But the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” 10 He said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.” 11 God said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” 12 The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit from the tree, and I ate.” 13 Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent tricked me, and I ate.” 14 The Lord God said to the serpent,
“Because you have done this,
    cursed are you among all animals
    and among all wild creatures;
upon your belly you shall go,
    and dust you shall eat
    all the days of your life.
15 I will put enmity between you and the woman,
    and between your offspring and hers;
he will strike your head,
    and you will strike his heel.”
16 To the woman he said,
“I will greatly increase your pangs in childbearing;
    in pain you shall bring forth children,
yet your desire shall be for your husband,
    and he shall rule over you.”
17 And to the man he said,
“Because you have listened to the voice of your wife,
    and have eaten of the tree
about which I commanded you,
    ‘You shall not eat of it,’
cursed is the ground because of you;
    in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life;
18 thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you;
    and you shall eat the plants of the field.
19  By the sweat of your face
    you shall eat bread
until you return to the ground,
    for out of it you were taken;
you are dust,
    and to dust you shall return.”
20 The man named his wife Eve, because she was the mother of all living. 21 And the Lord God made garments of skins for the man and for his wife, and clothed them.
22 Then the Lord God said, “See, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, he might reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life, and eat, and live forever”— 23 therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from which he was taken. 24 God drove out the man; and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim, and a sword flaming and turning to guard the way to the tree of life.


Sermon:  “The Divine No”

Jennifer was in the third grade when her family moved.  They decided to enroll her in a local Christian school in her new town.  The first day, she walked into the cafeteria and saw a big bowl of fruit with an even bigger sign, saying, “Take only one.  God is watching.”
Next to the fruit was a plate of cookies.  And next to the cookies was a sign a student had scrawled on a napkin: “Take as many as you want – God is watching the fruit!”

Now doesn’t that remind you of our story in Genesis?  The story of Eve and Adam is one of the oldest we have in our canon.  It’s where we come from; who we are, for better or worse.

The temptation part of this story is rather clear:
God made all, and told Eve and Adam to enjoy almost all.
Everything was good.
One tree was not for eating.
The snake tempted the man and woman (not just the woman!  The man was with her the whole time, something we tend to forget.)
That temptation was to be as powerful as God and to cheat death.
They ate.
Eve and Adam realized not power, not life or wisdom, but nakedness, and this scared them.
God punished them.
And then God made them snazzy organic clothes.
They were sent out from the garden.

Sometimes this story is talked about as “the Fall” (not the pumpkin spice latte kind) or “original sin.”  None of these words are in the text itself, but the idea of going against God’s will is the main focus of it.

And so often this text is used to talk about any number of sins or perceived sins.  Of course, that’s a tricky business, because the original sin was human beings trying to be like God.  Putting ourselves in the judgment seat, wanting to know good and evil, and wanting to cheat death.   This was, and is, our greatest temptation.  Unlike our Genesis story, we don’t see it in the produce section of the grocery store, but we do see it in many other forms.
When we pray for God to serve our own needs, even if this means someone else suffering.

When we tell people everything from a car accident to a good parking spot is “God’s will,” as if we’re able to clearly speak for the Creator of all creation without pause.

When we claim spiritual superiority over those who read scripture differently than us.

When we focus, not on the plentiful blessings in this life, but on the one thing we can’t (and maybe shouldn’t) have.

And sometimes, the God who walked through the garden of Eden in the evening breeze, or through Phillips Park in the morning breeze, says no to such things.  That no, like the no to Eve and Adam, is woven through with grace (God did clothe Eve and Adam to keep them from being afraid and ashamed, and they did not die after all).  But it is still a no. 

No, we cannot speak for the God who made us – because that God is bigger than our hearts, minds and opinions.
No, we cannot bend God to our will to make us feel more spiritually, politically or financially validated.
No, we cannot give God’s answers to things and events we do not understand.
No, we are not the center of creation.
No.

The divine no is a blessing, though that’s not always easy to see.  Because that no means admitting that there are things we’re not meant to know (k-n-o-w).
Frederick Buechner captures this well in his book, Whistling in the Dark, writing: 

When you really know a person or a language or a job, the knowledge becomes part of who you are. It gets into the bloodstream. That is presumably why the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was the one tree Adam and Eve were warned to steer clear of.

When in their innocence they knew only good, they could be only good. As soon as they knew evil too, a whole new glittering vista opened up before them. Next to obedience appeared the possibility of disobedience; next to faithfulness, faithlessness; next to love, lust; next to kindness, cruelty; and so on. Even when they chose the good way, their knowledge of the evil way remained as a conscious and by no means unattractive alternative, preventing them except on the rarest occasions from being good wholeheartedly. And when they chose the evil way, their knowledge of good tended to turn even the sweetness of forbidden fruit to ashes in their mouths. Thus they became the hapless hybrids their descendants have been ever since. It was the curse God had tried to spare them. The serpent did its work well.

If the “Fall” or “Original Sin” was borne of knowledge we should never have had, then repentance, grace and redemption lies in the opposite: in those most faithful three words, words that scare us as much as Eve and Adam were scared of their nakedness, “I don’t know.”

Our prayers and our lives take a very different turn when we embrace these words.  Suddenly, we sit in a hospital room with a ailing loved one and instead of saying, “It’s God’s will, so have faith,” we say, “I don’t know why this happened, but I do know you’re not alone.  God is here, and so am I.”

Suddenly, we hold our sacred text and our imperfect faith with humility and seek the mystery of God, instead of the lesser god who validates those opinions we already hold.

Suddenly, we no longer pray for God to place us and our loved ones in the center of creation, but instead pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” trusting that in all things, God is still good.

Suddenly, the church becomes a place for celebrating what we know and even more, what we don’t, and trusting the One who is beyond our knowing, but who came to us in a form we can grasp, Jesus Christ. 

And then what becomes of the church, of all of us children of Eve and Adam?  I’m delighted to say I don’t know.  But I can’t wait to find out.  Amen.


Sunday, July 10, 2016

Mary and Martha

Image Source
July 10, 2016

1 Corinthians 12:4-11
 Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, 10 to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. 11 All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.
Luke 10:38-42
38 Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Sermon: “Mary and Martha”

Of course he meant it kindly. I know that.
I know Josh—as well as anyone can know
The Son of God. All the same, he slipped up
Over this one. After all, a Son is only a son
When you come to think about it. And this
Was between sisters. Marty and me,
We understand each other. For instance, when Lazzie died,
We didn’t need to spell it out between us,
Just knew how to fix the scenario
So Josh could do his bit—raising Lazzie, I mean,
From the dead. He has his own way of doing things,
Has to muddle people first, so then the miracle
Comes as a miracle. If he’d just walked in
When Lazzie was ill, and said OK, Lazzie,
You’re off the sick list now — that’d have lacked impact.
But all this weeping, and groaning, and moving of stones,
And praying in public, and Mart saying I believe, etcetera,
Then Lazarus, come forth! and out comes Lazzie
In his shroud. Well, even a halfwit could see
Something out of the ordinary was going on.
But this was just ordinary. A lot of company,
A lot of hungry men, not many helpers,
And Mart had a go at me in front of Josh,
Saying I’m all on my own out there. Can’t you
Tell that sister of mine to take her finger out,
And lend a hand? Well, the thing about men is,
They don’t realise how temperamental good cooks are.
And Mart is very good. Believe you me.
She was just blowing her top. No harm in it.
I knew that. But then Josh gives her
This monumental dressing-down, and really,
It wasn’t fair. The trouble with theology is, it features
Too much miraculous catering. Those ravens feeding Elijah,
For instance. I ask you! They’d have been far more likely
To eat him. And all those heaven-sent fast-food take-aways—
Quail, and manna, and that. And Josh himself
The famous fish-butty picnic, and that miraculous
Draught of fishes. What poor old Mart could have done with
Was a miraculous draught of coffee and sandwiches
Instead of a ticking-off. And the men weren’t much help.
Not a thank you among them, and never a thought
Of help with the washing-up.
Don’t get me wrong. Of course I love Josh,
Wonder, admire, believe. He knows I do.
But to give Marty such a rocket
As if she was a Pharisee, or that sort of type,
The ones he has it in for. It wasn’t right.
Still, Josh himself, as I said—well, he is only
The Son of God, not the Daughter; so how could he know?
And when it comes to the truth, I’m Marty’s sister.
I was there; I heard what was said, and
I knew what was meant. The men will write it up later
From their angle, of course. But this is me, Mary,
Setting the record straight.

This poem entitled, “Unauthorized Version” by English poet U.A. Fanthorpe, shows us that when we think we know a Bible story – like that of Mary and Martha – we might not actually know it at all.  (A helpful note: the Hebrew name for Jesus is Jeshua, so that’s why she cleverly kept saying Josh.)

Martha always comes across in this familiar story as the perfectionist, the over-achiever, the bad gal.  (Which is perhaps why her name always comes last…you never hear this story referred to as Martha and Mary, do you?  Always Mary and then Martha.)

The prompt in our little yellow box of summer sermon suggestions was simple: “Are you a Mary or a Martha?”

We all identify more with one than the other: the doer or the dreamer, the server or the sitter, the laborer or the listener.  Jesus, it would seem, prefers the latter.  At least that’s how it sounded.  But our clever poem reminds us that things aren’t always what they seem (especially hundreds of years and many translations later). 

I don’t think Jesus wanted Martha to stop her hospitable ways – there’s a value in that.  I think he wanted her to stop comparing herself to her sister, and letting that worry and frustration overwhelm her.  And, whether we feel more like a Mary or more like a Martha, we all know what that’s like.

When you can’t actually see Jesus in front of you because you’re too busy trying to please people or earn approval.  Jesus doesn’t need any of our posturing and perfection.  He just needs our time, for us to sit at his feet, and listen to his story again.  Because when we hear that story – one so saturated with grace – we see everything differently.  Like Mary sticking up for her sister Marty in the poem, we extend grace to others.  We don’t compete or compare.  We celebrate the gifts each other bring, and the gift of Jesus’ very presence with us, each time we show hospitality to a wanderer. 

Perhaps we understand this story best when we remember it’s a story of two sisters, and like any family, there was bound to be struggle and frustration.  Jesus happened to arrive on a particularly tense day.  And perhaps he overreacted a little, because all that demon-casting-out and parable-preaching left him low on patience.  But once he left, back to that healing-preaching-forgiving business, those two sisters were still sisters. 

They dealt with their quarrel as sisters do, that most classic of all sibling struggles, that their personalities were so very different.  They loved each other.  They accepted each other’s gifts (eventually).  Early Christian writings suggest they may have been at the cross as Jesus died and the empty tomb when he rose, together. 

Some church traditions have taken Mary’s gifts to be contemplation, and Martha’s gifts to be acts of service.  We need both.  We need the storytellers and the servants, the dreamers and the doers.  And we all need to be able to put the first thing first, that “one thing” Jesus spoke up.  I think that “one thing” is remembering that we’re family, we belong to each other. 

We need to remember our belonging to one another now more than ever.  If we forget that “one thing” – our belonging to each other in this human family – we miss the point of it all.  We miss that chance to sit at Jesus’ feet and hear his story: that he came to this earth as a poor brown-skinned carpenter, to break down every single barrier between us and God, and us and one another. 

Family is complicated; Mary and Martha knew that. 
But that “one thing” of belonging to each other is more important than all the other things we might do or say or argue or defend.  We show our belonging in different ways, because like Mary and Martha, God has given us different gifts.  

1 Corinthians 12 says it best:
Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone.  To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.

What is your gift, the thing that comes most naturally to you?  Dreaming or doing, laboring or listening. Whatever your gift from God, now is the time to use it, friends.  Not just for your own good, or for the good of your family, or for the good of our church, but for the good of all: the common good.  We need Mary and we need Martha, and we need everyone else, to remember that one thing: that we all belong to God and one another, and nothing can take that from us.  Amen.