18 A Jonathan Daniels Pilgrimage, September 6, 2020, 10:30, Romans: 13:8-14, St. Mark's Episcopal Church, Little Rock Arkansas

18A Jonathan Daniels Pilgrimage September 6, 2020. Romans: 13:8-14.

“Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.”

On the second Saturday in August, people all over the country assemble in Hayneville, Lowndes Country, Alabama, to remember the martyrdom of an Episcopal seminarian, Jonathan Myrick Daniels, brutally murdered on August 20, 1965, as he protected an African American teenage girl, Ruby Sales, from a shotgun blast aimed at her.1

The pilgrimage starts at the courthouse where a trial lasting less than an hour found the white man who murdered Daniels “not guilty.” It moves to the place where once stood a small country store where Jonathan was killed. The pilgrimage then moves back to the courthouse for Eucharist, where the bread and the wine are consecrated on an altar once used as the judge’s bench for that 1965 sham trial.

Bishop Kendrick of the Central Gulf Coast recalls last year that this march takes place on the same date as the disastrous march of white supremacists in Charlottesville, now three years ago. The similarities are too much to bear, reminding us to question the advancement in racial justice in our last three quarters of a century. Too often we fail to recognize who our neighbor is. We pray that the next generation can do better.

“Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.”

The twenty-six-year-old Daniels hears the call by Martin Luther King, Jr. for students to join him in the Selma to secure voting rights for African Americans. Simultaneously, Jon hears King’s words blending into the ancient melody of the Song of Mary, the Magnificat, as he sings at Evening Prayer: “He hath put down the mighty from their seat/ and exalted the humble and meek.”2 Jonathan is given leave from Episcopal Seminary in Cambridge, Massachusetts, to go to Alabama.

In Selma, he brings small groups of black high school students to services at St. Paul’s, the local Episcopal church. They are initially shut out but eventually seated while parishioners openly scowl at them./ Recently, Bishop Michael Curry preaches at that church when he visits Selma. His message is, “See, we can change.” (Henry Hudson presently serves at St. Paul’s.)

Jon returns to seminary in May to complete his examinations. In July he returns to Alabama, where he lives with a black family and works on resources for people of color.

On August 13, Jon and others travel to Fort Deposit to picket three whites-only local businesses. Just eight days earlier, Lyndon Johnson signed the historic Voting Rights Act. On that Southern-hot-Saturday, all twenty-nine protestors are arrested and taken in a garbage truck to the nearby jail in Hayneville, the county seat. They are held in cramped conditions in the crowded, unsanitary jail without air conditioning or showers, and little water for six days before receiving bail.

Daniels writes his last letter to his mother from the jail for her birthday. “Dearest Mum, An eminently peculiar birthday card…from the Lowndes county jail… The card I bought and the present will have to wait, but I sure will be thinking of you with love and prayers!” The hastily written note arrives on his mother’s 60th birthday, the day of his murder.

After their release Friday, August 20, Jon, a Catholic priest, and two black girls, seeking relief from the heat, go to purchase sodas at a Varner’s Cash Store, one of few local businesses serving non-whites. Tom Coleman, an unpaid special county deputy poised with a 12-gauge automatic pump shotgun, meets them at the door with the message to leave or be shot. The part-time deputy aims the gun at a seventeen-year-old Ruby Sales, a student at Tuskegee. Jon pushes her out of the way, takes the bullets, and dies instantly. Ruby Sales describes the horrific scene as seeing love and hate, the best and the worst of white America in a split second. Ruby is so damaged by the incident that she does not speak for six months.3,4 Coleman also shoots and seriously wounds Richard Morrisroe, the Catholic priest.

When Martin Luther King Jr. hears of Daniels’ murder, his response is: "one of the most heroic Christian deeds of which I have heard in my entire ministry was performed by Jonathan Daniels."

“Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.”

The all-white jury acquits Coleman after a trial of less than one hour. Only registered voters can be on a jury, which excludes most blacks.

The murder of Jon Daniels shocks the Episcopal Church into the realization of racial inequality and moves the church on an expanded path of working for civil rights.

Ruby3,4 goes on to attend the same seminary as Daniels and now heads the SpiritHouse Project in Atlanta, a program using art, spirituality, and education to bring about justice/ with redemption. Ruby believes that a four hundred-year-old “culture of whiteness” is destroying our nation. She reminds us it is not white people, but this canonized “culture of whiteness” that is our socialized problem from birth. But she preaches hope in believing that we are redeemed by telling our story to each other, finding out where that inner hurt comes from that makes us believe the color of our skin can be used as a hierarchical power over others, especially as the circle of whiteness narrows in our country. We are called not to look at the color of someone’s skin, but like artists, look for the life behind and within each other’s faces. Love becomes the frame we see people in.5 How do we do this? Sales 3,4 believe that we must share our collective and individual stories, through the arts, spiritual reflections, and literature/seeking justice/ in the spirit of redemption.

At Daniels’ alma mater, VMI,6 an archway in the barracks is dedicated to him, marked by a plaque with words from Daniels’ 1961 valedictorian address to other graduating cadets: “My colleagues and friends, I wish you the joy of a purposeful life. I wish you new worlds and the vision to see them. I wish you the decency and the nobility of which you are capable.” Every VMI entering class views the documentary Here Am I, Send Me: The Story of Jonathan Daniels.

“Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.”

Bishop Curry7 recently describes Jon Daniels as, “an ordinary Episcopalian just like you and me, an ordinary Episcopalian just like you and me, and so many other ordinary Episcopalians we do not know about, who hear about the love of Jesus and are moved by the suffering of others not treated as neighbors. Ordinary Episcopalians who are led to pray on their knees and then pray with their feet.”

Our associate priest, Michael, reminds me that the School of Theology, Sewanee, Tennessee, loads all first-year students into a bus at seminary orientation to go to the Jonathan Daniels pilgrimage. He describes it as a moving experience, as many are visiting the site of a martyrdom for the first time.

Because of the pandemic this year, the march is live streamed from the Diocese of Alabama. I watched it last month, and the pilgrimage is just as powerful as Michael says. I share with you the most moving moment for me at the close of the pilgrimage.1

Participants hold up pictures of the martyrs of Alabama, men, women, children black and white killed because of our blind belief that people of color should be denied basic rights, only available to persons with white skin. A member of the congregation holds up a larger-than-life picture when each martyr’s name is called. That participant holding the picture then loudly responds, “PRESENT.” Would you join me in speaking again this response: PRESENT?

We see and hear called out the names of four young black girls killed instantly by a bomb shortly before church services in 1963 in Birmingham at the 16th Street Baptist Church: “Addie Mae Collins, 14, PRESENT; Denise McNair, 11, PRESENT; Carole Robertson, 14, PRESENT; Cynthia Wesley, 14, PRESENT; and finally, we see and hear Jonathan Myrick Daniels, 26, PRESENT.”

1Virtual Jon Daniels Program 2020, Diocese of Alabama.

2The Jon Daniels Story, William J. Schneider, ed. (The Seabury Press, 1967).

3Ruby Sales Ted Talk, “How We Can Start to Heal The Pain of Racial Division,” September 2018. https://www.ted.com/talks/ruby_sales_how_we_can_start_to_heal_the_pain_of_racial_division

4Way of Love podcast about Daniels and Sales Going where it Hurts with Bishop Curry https://wayoflove.episcopalchurch.org/episodes/season/3/episode/7

5Frederick Buechner in Beyond Words, originally in Whistling in the Dark.

6Virginia Military Institute Archives.

http://digitalcollections.vmi.edu/digital/collection/p15821coll11/id/1216

7Bishop Curry on Jonathan Daniels Sunday https://www.episcopalnewsservice.org/2020/08/17/episcopal-martyr-jonathan-myrick-daniels-honored-in-online-commemorations/

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com

Wearing God, 18A, Romans 13:14, St. Mark's Episcopal Church, 8 am, Sunday September 6, 2020

Wearing God

“Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ..” Romans 13:14 NIV.

There are over one hundred biblical passages about clothing, and many like this one, refer to putting God on as if we were wearing God. In fact, I recommend Lauren Winner’s recent book called Wearing God. She reminds us that even as Adam and Eve were leaving paradise, God made clothing for them. (Genesis 3:8-15). God clothes us, asks us to cloth others, and when we do, tells us we are clothing God. (Matthew 25).

  What we wear communicates a great deal about who and what we are. We feel and often act differently depending on the clothes we wear. My experience is when I put on my clothes, I often remember a past experience when I last wore them, and I feel differently than before I put them on.  I have many clothes I should  give away, but cannot, because I look at them and remember a lasting experience I had wearing them. They are like a scrapbook of times when I was with others or alone and knew I was loved and cared for by the God of love.

Many people in Mourner’s Path, our grief recovery group, talk of wearing a piece of clothing of their loved one who has died, often a shirt. The smell, the feel, brings them closer to that person.

 I particularly remember wearing a black shawl one New Year’s Eve when I walked a labyrinth at Christ Church. Suddenly I felt the love of my deceased grandmothers wrapping around me and keeping me safe, loved, and warm like the shawl around my shoulders.

I also remember the first Sunday after my ordination. I stayed late at St. Margaret’s talking with friends and was late meeting my extended family, still celebrating at a Chinese restaurant for brunch. I was pushing my way through the crowded restaurant to meet my family, and I suddenly remembered, “I am now wearing a clerical collar. Perhaps, I should not push my way through restaurants anymore!” I slowed down.

Two more clothing verses.

“Put on the whole armor of God, so that you can stand against the devil’s schemes.” (Ephesians 6:11 NIV) I often keep this passage from Ephesians with me when I go into a difficult situation.

There is another passage from Colossians that explains even more the meaning of wearing the armor of God, and what we can take to those difficult situations. “Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” (Colossians 3:12). This is a quite different coat of armor Paul tells us to wear.

Here is a suggestion. For the next week, as we dress, buttoning our shirt, zipping up our dress, pulling up our socks, hose, and pants, putting on our shoes, consciously imagine we are putting on God, wearing Christ, especially compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience as Paul suggests.  Could that possibly make any difference in how we will feel about ourselves /or how we treat others just for that day?

Joanna.  joannaseibert

Paul's Letter to the Romans and St. Mark's, Little Rock, 11A, July 19, 2020, St. Mark's

Paul’s Letter to the Romans and to St. Mark’s

Romans 11A, July 19, 2020 St. Mark’s Joanna Seibert

A Letter from Paul to the Romans and St. Mark’s.

“I, Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, to all God’s beloved in Rome and St. Mark’s, Little Rock who are all called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you, because your faith is proclaimed throughout the world. Without ceasing, I remember you always in my prayers, asking that by God’s will I may somehow at last succeed in coming to you. For I am longing to see you so that I may share with you some spiritual gift to strengthen you—or rather so that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.” (Romans 1:1-12)

I traveled over 10,000 miles, concentrating my ministry on the eastern side of the Mediterranean, from Jerusalem to present day Turkey, Albania, Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, and Greece. Goodness knows, I should return there, but I leave that to you. I want to move westward, to Rome, Spain and now to Little Rock, Arkansas.

I had not visited the church in the capital city of Rome, just as I never visited St. Mark’s in the capital city of Arkansas, but I have definite plans for you both. You will hear my letter to the Romans twenty-five times in your Sunday lectionary this year and frequently in your Daily Lectionary at Morning Prayer. The deacon, Phoebe, carried my letter to Rome. I send this letter to St. Mark’s by your three priests, Danny, Michael, Patricia and your other deacon Susan. They have spent considerable time with me and can explain all passages you find difficult. Greet them warmly. They will from time to time read my letters on upcoming Sundays.

I have read much about your church. I am a church planter/ and am pleased to hear that your congregation began as a home church like the churches in Rome. I remember St. Mark’s birth almost seventy years ago in 1952 on Epiphany (January 6) in the home of Dr. Ralph and Louise Law on Kavanaugh.

There are more similarities between St. Mark’s and the church in Rome. Jewish Christians started the Roman church. In 49 CE Emperor Claudius deported the Roman Jews/ including my later companions and tent makers, Priscilla and Aquila, because of riots about Jesus. The Gentiles then became the predominate Christians in the Roman church. The Christian Jews returned to Rome when Nero came to power five years later/ and found their churches now led by Gentiles. Considerable conflict in beliefs developed between Gentile Christians and Jewish Christians.

St. Mark’s began with long time Episcopalians. Today I see St. Mark’s now composed of fewer cradle Episcopalians and more people from other faiths. I applaud you for not having conflicts with members from other religious backgrounds. I hope it stays that way.

I want to disabuse you of this idea that I do not support women. Priscilla led the church in Corinth and Eph/e/sus, just as St. Mark’s led other churches in this diocese to have female clergy when Peggy Bosmyer came as a deacon.

Most may not realize the impact of this letter in church history. A passage from Romans was instrumental in the conversion of Augustine ( 13:13-14.) The commentaries of Luther and Calvin on Romans shaped the Protestant Reformation. John Wesley’s heart was “strangely warmed” at a meeting on Aldersgate on hearing the Preface to Luther’s commentary on Romans. See, people still have difficulty understanding me and read and write COMMENTARIES./ Many say no other book in the Bible has been more influential than my letter to the Romans, but I will leave that conclusion to you. (Grieb, x)

Let me summarize my letters, my ministry, what I wish on my tombstone. I have spent my career working for church unity and raising funds for the poor. I applaud you for your ministry to St. Francis House, Hall High, your Food Pantry, ERD, and Mustard Seed Grants.

I especially write to you suffering in this pandemic and an awareness of racial injustice. I know this is unlike anything you have experienced. I, as well, have been a prisoner and under house arrest. Wait with patience. (8:25) The love of God will work for the good during this uncertain time just as God has done before. (8:26-28)

Today in your lectionary you hear a small section from my letter to Rome. My letter is difficult to understand without reading it all the way through like a real letter. It is a continuous story. (Grieb xxi) When you hear little snippets each Sunday, You miss my entire proclamation of the overwhelming love and Grace of God through Jesus Christ. God loves you so much that God sent Jesus to let you know God desperately wants a relationship with you in life and in death. (14:8)/ Take an afternoon. Read Romans at one sitting. Don’t miss chapter twelve, my love letter. (Garvey)

Today’s reading does include one of God’s major themes: Creation is good/ and is a reflection of the love of its Creator. (Garvey) “We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains…; and not only.. creation, but we ourselves… groan inwardly while we wait for adoption.” (8:22-23).

I write to introduce my theology to those who may not know me well. I did not start the church in Rome or your church. Consequently, I am often misunderstood. I want Rome and you to hear my exact words.

Some call me God’s defense attorney. Critics call me disloyal to Judaism. Karl Barth got it right in his commentary about Romans when he said, “Christians who try theology without Israel/ are sawing off the very branch on which they are sitting.” (Grieb xi)

I write to reassure Jewish Christians in Rome that God is still faithful to his covenant with them. But I am the apostle to the Gentiles, which includes all of you. …I write to Gentile Christians that you also are included in God’s covenant. “There is no distinction between Jew and Greek!” (10:12)

I write to urge Christians in Rome to quit fighting over nonessential matters and live together as a UNITY with DIVERSITY. This is a crucial message to you and the church at large. You must welcome those with whom you disagree. This is not optional. ( 14:3, 15:7, 5:10)

I write to Roman house churches to begin building a base for operations in Spain. I write to you to become a base for ministries in Little Rock and Arkansas, especially to your neighbors, to minorities, and those in prison. I do see you spreading the good news with your livestreaming of services around the world.

I write to remind you that you and I are so alike. “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want.”

( 7:19). We are in the same boat. Sin is real, but so is God’s radical Grace for all. (Garvey) Remember what Michael recently preached: “the love of Christ, through the Spirit has been poured into each of our hearts (5:5) and comes to us in our weakness/ and intercedes for us in our prayers” in this community.

Most importantly, I write to tell you of God’s righteousness made evident in the faithfulness of Jesus Christ, which has changed everything forever. Nothing in all creation can separate you and me from that love of God in Christ Jesus. ( 8:39) Next week Danny may tell you more about this.

“Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, or sword?

No… neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come… nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate you and me from the love of God in Christ Jesus...” ( 8:35-39)

Does that mean the same today as 2000 years ago? You can bet your life on it!! You claim it every time you gather to worship. It is the proclamation you wrap yourselves and your tiny infants around as you emerge from the baptismal waters, and it is the first thing proclaimed at your burial./ (McCreath 77)

By now you must be getting tired of hearing my story. I want to hear your story, your letter. It is time for you to share your stories of God’s presence in your life. I ask my scribe to put down his pen and ask you to pick up your pen and write your letter about the love of God in Christ Jesus and share it.

In the meantime, for the rest of this church season, make ready your guest room, for I, Paul, plan to spend a lot of time with you.

“To the only wise God be glory for evermore through Jesus Christ! Amen.” ( 16:27)

Katherine Grieb in The Story of Romans (Westminster, Louisville, 2002).

Amy McCreath in “Exchanging Abundance,” Preaching Through the Year of Matthew (Morehouse 2001) pp. 75-78.

Vicki Garvey in “Reading Paul’s Letter to The Romans,” Building Faith, Building Faith.org. December 21, 2018.

Pentecost 6A Road Trip, Matthew 9:35-10:8, St. Mark's Episcopal Church, Little Rock, June 14th 2020

Pentecost, Proper 6A Road Trip

Matthew 9:35-10:8 (9-23)

June 14th, 2020. St. Mark’s

We’re on the road!!! Today we embark on the travel narrative where Jesus sends us out into the world to proclaim the good news, cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, and cast out demons! Throughout the journey this summer Jesus dialogues with the crowds, his disciples, and us as he empowers us to heal and love. But Jesus keeps making statements difficult to understand, like we heal and love by being “wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” Maybe there are answers in the responses of others before us who struggled with these words during unrest in their times./ We can often better understand Jesus’ words in the music of other fragile and fragmented generations like ours./ So, let’s travel back to the 1960s,/another era of great social and racial unrest: the Vietnam War, riots, fires, assassinations of Dr. Martin Luther King, President John Kennedy, his brother, Robert Kennedy./ Let’s engage in active imagination and travel to the sixties./ Then imagine Jesus taking this summer Galilean road trip in that generation carrying with him the voices whose music healed the pain of that era.////

It’s summertime in Galilee. Jesus is sweating, not blood but water, as he stuffs the disciples’ sleeping bags into the car top carrier of their VW van. The new and old Galilean disciples are shifting about in excited pairs, chattering noisily about places they will go and things they will see. Jesus inserts his favorite recording of Handel’s Messiah into the van’s old tape player, hoping that the breeze of its majestic strains will lift him up on the miles ahead. The disciples, Peter, Paul, and Mary wannabes/ roll their eyes and jump into the back seats singing John’s latest hit, “My Bags Are Packed, Leaving On A Jet Plane, and don’t know when I will be back again.” Judas sits in the front seat with a pirated version of Jesus Christ Superstar, as he hums, “If I were Free to Speak My Mind.”

Jesus makes one last check through his AAA trip ticket and settles into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel. He alone knows they are headed to Jerusalem. There are three highways to Jerusalem: along the coast,/ down the western Jordan Valley,/ and the shorter, middle way through Samaria. AAA has routed Jesus and his band away from Samaria.

Fifteen minutes into the trip, Peter belts out a new song, “Let the Midnight Special Shine Its Light On Me.”

Peter, Paul, and Mary then revive the group by breaking into a rousing version of “Early in the Morning, at The Break of Day, I asked the Lord, please help me find the Way.” ///

The rest of us also remember past summer road trips and wonder if we will ever hit the road again to get away from it all. Jesus and the disciples, however, are moving toward it all. This is the beginning of our summer lectionary road trip, an itinerary that traces a section of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem described by Matthew. Jesus’ road trip is not vacation. Matthew’s version of this journey teaches us how to continue Jesus’ ministry of compassion, peace, love, healing. These travel narratives will support us who struggle and strive to live “real life”/ faithfully today/ during this pandemic and unrest,/ as we also listen to those in a past generation who struggled and heard Jesus’ words of love and healing.

Music often is the healing grace in times of stress and unrest. It is comforting that Jesus has some sacred recordings and a band with him to lift his spirits, for he cautions them and us that we will face rejection and disappointments from the get go. Things may not work out the way we had planned.

Jesus bluntly tells his disciples they will even be beaten and dragged before the ruling class. The disciples, James and John, the sons of thunder, react conventionally saying, “we will meet violence and rejection also with violence and rejection.” The song from the back of the van is “If I Had My Way in this wicked world, I would tear this building down.”/ Jesus will have none of that. Instead he asks Peter, Paul, and Mary to change their tune to a friend’s draft of “Blowing in the Wind: How many times, Lord, how many roads must a man walk down, before he is called a man, the answer my friend, is blowing in the wind, blowing in the wind.”/ The beloved disciple then follows up with the old spiritual, “I Ain’t Gonna Study War No More.”

Jesus then gazes over his shoulder at his musical group in the back seats and teaches us and them the words to a new tune he just heard, “The Times, They Are A ‘Changin.’” He tells us our life will be different in his band, even more so during our present time. We may have no musical ability, but Jesus reminds us to keep practicing only one song which is really a wedding song, performed at Peter’s wedding, “There is Love, there is Love.” This must be Jesus’ theme song. It makes Jesus happy when we sing it. Jesus challenges us to move beyond the accepted standards of safety and security and put relationships with each other and caring for each other as a major priority.

The last song we hear from the back of the van is, “Lord, I’m 100 miles from Home, 200 miles, not a shirt on my back, not a penny to my name. 500 Miles.” //

Soon in our lectionary trip, Jesus preaches about seeds, sowers, mustard seeds, yeast, and tremendous catches of fish. Jesus likes food and eating, especially eating with strangers. He tries to retreat to a deserted place, but people find him. Instead of scolding the crowd, he heals the sick, feeds 5000 plus with five loaves and two fish, and ends up leaving 12 baskets of leftovers. Jesus climbs up a mountain to pray, but he sees his disciples in distress on the sea. “The Water is Wide and we cannot get o’er.” Jesus goes to them, and calms the sea. He heals the daughter of a foreigner and learns what God is teaching us about caring for those different from ourselves.//

Too soon our journey this summer draws to a close, and our present routine may not be different. But if we follow our lectionary closely these weeks, we will discover that we have been traveling in a unique summer school with Jesus, more like a touring choir camp,/ and that in Jesus’ classroom, the songs, the music, the lyrics differ greatly from what our culture once sang.

We may lose our way or run out of gas on this trip to Jerusalem with Jesus, but all of Matthew’s stories this summer/ and the music from past generations remind us that Jesus never ever leaves or abandons us on this journey. He knows what we are going through. He loves us and asks us to act out that love to the world. WE are to share that love so others will also know they are loved and will never be abandoned. “The Song is Love.”/

There are high stakes for those who unfold Jesus’ road map and follow his musical band and its itinerary. This journey with Jesus to Jerusalem so reminds us of our present spiritual and physical life of faith/ with what seem like too many bumps and potholes.

It is easy to let the cacophony in our minds drown out the MINISTRY Jesus strains his voice,/ calling us to/ in the midst, and through this pandemic and social unrest. The music Jesus sings is a new tune with lyrics of only two words, heal, love. It is impossible not to worry about what will happen this summer and the next,/ but worrying keeps us from doing this real ministry of compassion to our brothers and sisters./

Listen carefully this summer for the music from Jesus’ band,/ all too often in the background. Listen especially to a song Jesus wrote for Peter, “With Your Face To The Wind, I See You Smiling Again.”

Don’t miss a single Sunday of Jesus’ summer road trip. Join the chorus when Peter, Paul, and Mary point to us/ to sing our part/ in their newest release: “If I had a hammer,/ I’d hammer in the morning,/ I’d hammer in the evening,/ I’d hammer out danger,/ freedom,/ justice,/ love// between my brothers and sisters, all over this land.”

“No Excuses,” Homiletics, 6/28/1992.

“Walk On,” Homiletics, 6/28/1998.

Elizabeth McGregor Simmons, “Luke and AAA: Preaching to Fellow Travelers in June, July, and August,” Journal for Preachers, vol. 27, no. 4, Pentecost, 2004, pp. 12-17.

Charles Hoffacker, Proper 8C, Sermonwriter, June 27, 2004.

Joanna. joannaseibert.com

A Tale of Two Women, Easter Vigil A, St. Mark's Episcopal Church, Little Rock, Matthew 28:1-10

A Tale of Two Women

The Great Vigil of Easter A, St. Mark’s Episcopal Church,

April 11, 2020 Matthew 28:1-10

“Let us hear the record of God's saving deeds in history, how he saved his people in ages past; and let us pray that our God will bring each of us to the fullness of redemption.” BCP 288)

Back in Galilee. Mary, the mother of James adds more spices to the last of the lamb and mixes it with lentils for dinner, always better the third day. Joanna, Solome, and Suzanna direct the children as they clear the dishes. The full moon brings in a small amount of light through the front window. It is early spring, still cool, so we huddle around the fire for warmth and especially for each other’s company. Our after-dinner entertainment is story telling. All the chores are done, so tonight we have time for many stories.

“Who can tell the best bedtime story tonight?’

The men always go first and Mary’s husband, James the Older, picks the first story. “I will tell you the story of how God created the heavens and the earth,” James, the Elder, speaks slowly and deliberately. “God creates this world and every living creature out of darkness, out of emptiness, out of more darkness than the darkest night you can imagine when there is no moon. God creates all of us in his own image, even little James, the Younger, in the corner who is not paying attention to this story,// and then God blesses everything he made.”/

Peter chimes in when James the Older takes a breath. “My story is about how God saves all of us when we were slaves escaping from Egypt by parting the waters of the sea.” “I know this story,” pipes up James, the Younger, as he moves in closer to the circle. “Moses stretches out his hand and God drives the sea back by a strong east wind all night and turns the sea into dry land!”/

John speaks next. “My story is a song that I would like to sing about how God sprinkles clean water upon us and gives us a new heart and a new spirit and takes away our heart of stone and gives us a heart of flesh.” John’s musical voice brings a stillness to the night air. But soon the men are telling boisterous stories about the flood, the valley of the dry bones,/ each man trying to top the other one’s story.

Mary Magdalene moves into the inner circle “Mary and I have a story to tell.”

“Women are not story tellers,” blurts out James, the Younger, back in his corner!

“No, wait,” says Peter. “We did not listen to Mary and Mary Magdalene the first time they told their story! We need to hear it every night!”

Mary Magdalene begins. “It is early dawn after the sabbath after Jesus dies. There is almost a full moon with as much light as we see tonight. Mary and I have traveled with all of you who followed Jesus from Galilee fixing meals, cleaning up just like tonight./ We are grief stricken, so we decide to honor our dead friend and take all the spices we have saved to anoint his body. We worry all the way to the tomb about how to roll away the stone,/ how to get past the guards we hear are there,/ but we don’t care, we’re going./

We silently arrive at the tomb,/ and suddenly the earth shakes violently,/ and then some Thing that looks like lightning with clothes as white as snow comes from out of nowhere and rolls away the stone/ and then sits on top of it! The guards appear dead! This White-being that we believe later is an angel tells us, “Do not be afraid,” but of course we are petrified!

The great White-light-being continues, “I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. He has been raised from the dead. Jesus has risen,/ come, look and see where his body lay. Then go quickly and tell the others to meet Jesus in Galilee!”

We hastily peek into the tomb which is empty and get out of there, as fast as we can./ But then.. this is soo amazing, we meet Jesus on the road! “Greetings,” he says. Now Jesus has never said anything like “greetings” before. We fall down and hold his feet to make sure he is for real.. He is real./ We worship him./ Jesus then says exactly what the white-lightening-being says, “Do not be afraid. Go tell the others to go to Galilee where I will see them.” /

We rush back to where we all are hiding, and no one believes us! They say it is an idle tale by women!”///

Peter cannot stay still another minute. “Yes, I was there when you came back. Yes, I did not believe you, but I ran back to the tomb, hoping beyond hope that it might be true. And yes, there is the empty tomb!” ////

“So what do you think,” says John, “of all the stories tonight, could this one be the greatest story ever told.” “Yes,” says James, the Younger. “Now tell us more about what happens after that!”

Mary Magdalene puts her arm around young James as Peter lifts him up to go to bed. “James, it is too late/ for more stories,/ but yes, you are so right./ The story is not finished./ So much more happens./ If you get up early in the morning/ and come back into this room/ after the big candle is lighted,/ we will continue the story.”

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com