Gospel text for Sunday 28 October 2018

Mark 10:46-52        Jesus and his disciples came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. 

Reflection        When Jesus asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” I want to ask Jesus, “Why are you asking a blind man what he wants? Isn’t it obvious?” In “The Jesuit Guide to Almost Everything,” the theologian James Martin, S.J. suggests, “Jesus was helping the blind man identify his desire and to be clear about it.” (p 58) You see, it is when we notice and name the deepest desire of our hearts that we discover God’s desire for us. 

Martin explains, desire gets a bad rap in many Christian circles, mostly because we think of it only in terms of sex and consumerism. But, sex is clearly one of our greatest gifts because “without it, where would we be?” The desire to consume food, shelter and clothing is our natural desire to survive.  Desire is a primary way in which God speaks to us. Of course we are not talking about superficial or inordinate desires for a perfect home, a showier car, more power, more privilege, another cruise…  you fill in the blank.  

When Jesus asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” he is asking, “What is the deepest desire of your heart?” Sitting by the roadside, Bartimaeus has had plenty of time to think about it, and when someone sitting near him nudges him, “Jesus is calling you,” he does not hesitate to declare his desire, “I want to see again.” When Jesus says to him, “Go; your faith has made you well,” he is inviting Bartimaeus “out of his distress into a broad place with no constraint.”  Accepting the invitation, Bartimaeus throws off the cloak of his past, leaps up, and changes the course of his life, no longer sitting on the sideline of life but immediately  following Jesus on the way. 

A key to discerning God’s desire for us is noticing and naming our desires. Our deepest desires help us to admit God’s desire for us.

A pivotal moment in my life occurred following a week long intensive, training future spiritual directors, when my colleague and dear friend looked me straight in the eye and asked, “What is your deepest desire, what do you want to do with your life?” I can still feel the sinking sense in my stomach knowing I would have to speak aloud the words I had denied for decades. “I want to be a priest.” My friend’s  response, “Well, it is about time you said it.” 

After nine years sitting in darkness, the voice of my friend broke through the whirlwind of my self-absorbed suffering, inviting me to notice and name the deepest desire of my heart. In so doing I  joined Bartimaeus in noticing and naming our desires. Finally I could say out loud, “Although there is no way I can do this thing called priesthood (frankly it terrifies me), I know that God can do all things, and that no purpose of God’s can be thwarted.” Within the month I left my home to begin the journey toward priesthood.

Now, let me ask you, what is the deepest desire of your heart?  

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Hebrew Testament Text for Sunday 21 October 2018

Job 38:1-7, 34-41

The Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind:

"Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?

Gird up your loins like a man,

I will question you, and you shall declare to me.

"Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?

Tell me, if you have understanding.

Who determined its measurements—surely you know!

Or who stretched the line upon it?

On what were its bases sunk,

or who laid its cornerstone

when the morning stars sang together

and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?

“Can you lift up your voice to the clouds,

so that a flood of waters may cover you?

Can you send forth lightnings, so that they may go

and say to you, ‘Here we are’?

Who has put wisdom in the inward parts,

or given understanding to the mind?

Who has the wisdom to number the clouds?

Or who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens,

when the dust runs into a mass

and the clods cling together?

“Can you hunt the prey for the lion,

or satisfy the appetite of the young lions,

when they crouch in their dens,

or lie in wait in their covert?

Who provides for the raven its prey,

when its young ones cry to God, 

and wander about for lack of food?”

Reflection         For weeks, for months, it seems like forever,  we have been standing shoulder to shoulder with Job, crying out to God… “Where are you? Where are you in the midst of my suffering? Where are you in the ruins of Mexico Beach, Florida? in school shootings? among the homeless? the 16.2 million children going to sleep (cannot say bed because many do not have a bed) going to sleep hungry every night? where are you for the two hundred plus migrant children separated from their parents? Where are you for the people marginalized or persecuted because of their race, gender, ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation, social status or age? Where are you for the victims of violence, oppression and genocide throughout the world?”

In answer to these questions I hear the voice of Elie Wiesel, the Jewish writer, professor, Nobel Laureate and Holocaust survivor, whose book, “Night,” recounts his experience as a prisoner in Auschwitz and Buchenwald and his struggle to come to terms with the horrors of the death camps. When receiving the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986 Weisel said, “It seemed as impossible to conceive of Auschwitz with God as to conceive of Auschwitz without God.”  He continued, “I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” We must never stop calling out for God.

This week a parishioner sent me the link to a NYTimes opinion piece titled, “It’s Getting Harder to Talk About God.”* *https://nyti.ms/2QQF5yl The writer, Jonathan Merritt asks, “How do we speak about God in times like these when God is hard to spot?” To address his query Merritt turns to a survey of one thousand American adults, more than three fourths of whom report they do not often have spiritual or religious conversations, and that includes self identified Christians. Merritt, a preacher’s kid and part-time minister describes his own experience, “conversations stall out the moment the subject turns spiritual.”   In his book, “Learning to Speak God from Scratch”  Merritt avers that words connoting moral virtues such as love, patience, gentleness, faithfulness, kindness and thankfulness “are falling out of use” by as much as 56% since the early 20th century. The question echoes, “Where is God in this?”

Here is the thing, what matters is not that we can speak fluently about God - after all, what can we rightly say? What matters is that we never stop speaking for God. Dear people of God, I believe what really matters is that we join Elie Weisel and refuse “to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation.” Like Job, we must never stop calling out for God and then pause, listen for God’s presence in the midst of our whirlwinds. 

Another good read about finding God in the midst of pain is

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/25/opinion/sunday/after-great-pain-where-is-god.html

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Gospel text for Sunday 14 October 2018

Mark 10:17-31       As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.’” He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.

Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” They were greatly astounded and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”

Peter began to say to him, “Look, we have left everything and followed you.” Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”

Reflection        Can you hear Jesus scratching his head when the young man protests, “I have kept all of the commandments;” (Jesus) “You have kept them? You have depended upon yourself to be righteous and upstanding? You really think you have done this by your own wit and will? Poor young man, you lack one thing. Humility. Go and sell all that you own then come and follow me.” In other words, if you want to find eternal life you must admit your dependence on God with you. 

And if this shocked the young man who was living in the Ancient Near East, a collectivist culture that stresses the importance of community and interdependence of the people, how much more unfathomable is this for those of us who have been raised in a Post Enlightenment culture that understands people as independent and autonomous. How can we digest Jesus’ counsel when the world around us makes it clear that being dependent upon others is embarrassing if not down right shameful? We are supposed to be self-reliant and anyone who is not ought to stop making excuses and “pull themselves up by their boot straps.”

By our wit and will we are supposed to solve our own problems and accomplish our five year, ten year and lifetime goals. We are praised for being self-reliant, self-sufficient and self-made. All these are respectable qualities except we fail to notice one thing, they separate us from God and one another.  

And so Jesus looks at us with love and says, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” As long as we hold fast to our self-determination we are essentially setting our selves apart and claiming sovereignty that belongs to God alone.  Being thus bloated with our selves it is no wonder we do not experience God with us. This is why Jesus counsels the young running man and us to sell everything and follow him. 

Here is the thing. Most of us get stuck on the first part of Jesus’ instruction. “Sell everything.” Really? Not all of us are cut out to make vows of poverty and live in monasteries. So we join the running man grieving and set out again on our own thereby completely missing Jesus’ second instruction, “follow me.”

To follow means to come after, to subordinate our selves to someone or something else, to accept another’s authority as guide or teacher.* When we consent to follow, we affirm our interconnected interdependence which by definition means we stop clinging to our culturally prescribed identities as self-reliant, self-sufficient, self-made and self-determining creatures. We sell all that baggage and follow Jesus, the teacher, who shows us that the way of eternal life is all about being in unselfish, magnanimous, open handed relationships which are possible when we put our confidence in God with us, rather than our selves.  

I believe life is a story and we get to choose whether we want our story to be “with God” or not. If we choose “with God” life, we must get rid of whatever separates us from God. Some of the  culprits are our inordinate desires for safety and security, affection and esteem, power and control. If we choose “with God” life we must grow beyond the presumption of being self-reliant, self-sufficient, self-made and self-determining and affirm our purpose in the world with and for one another. When we choose a “with God” life story we realize, it is not all about me, it is all about we. It is not all about mine, it is all about ours. Our “with God” life story is a story of radical inclusiveness;  life in and of, with and for the well-being of all people. What story do you choose?

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** https://www.dictionary.com/browse/follow

Hebrew Testament text for Sunday 7 October 2018

Job 1:1; 2:1-10        There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil.

One day the heavenly beings came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan also came among them to present himself before the Lord. The Lord said to Satan, “Where have you come from?” Satan answered the Lord, “From going to and fro on the earth, and from walking up and down on it.” The Lord said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man who fears God and turns away from evil. He still persists in his integrity, although you incited me against him, to destroy him for no reason.” Then Satan answered the Lord, “Skin for skin! All that people have they will give to save their lives. But stretch out your hand now and touch his bone and his flesh, and he will curse you to your face.” The Lord said to Satan, “Very well, he is in your power; only spare his life.”

So Satan went out from the presence of the Lord, and inflicted loathsome sores on Job from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head. Job took a potsherd with which to scrape himself, and sat among the ashes. Then his wife said to him, “Do you still persist in your integrity? Curse God, and die.” But he said to her, “You speak as any foolish woman would speak. Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” In all this Job did not sin with his lips.

Reflection      Job is a man of grand slam success and insistent faithfulness. We meet him at the heels of a wager between God and Satan. All of his livestock are destroyed, his servants are carried away, his business decimated. A great wind collapses the house in which his sons and daughters are eating and all ten of them are killed.  “(Despite) all of this, Job did not sin or charge God with wrongdoing.” (Job 1.22) God wins the wager. Job remains faithful in the face of unrelenting loss, a fact God loses no time pointing out to the Satan.  “(Job) still persists in his integrity, though you (Satan) incited me against him, to destroy him for no reason.” 

Furious the adversary ups the ante. “People will give up anything to save their own life…” Again, God,  betting Job will persist in his integrity, accepts the second wager and empowers the Satan to inflict unspeakable physical suffering on Job.  And indeed, though his body is covered with oozing boils and Job sends himself into exile sitting on an ash heap, when his wife confronts him saying, “Do you still persist in your integrity? Curse God and die,” Job endures saying to his maligned wife, “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God and not receive the bad?” 

This is integrity. No matter what happens to us on the outside, our interior values, our moral principles, what we know to be true, must continue to determine how we behave. Which is to say,  our values are revealed in our daily actions. The quality of our actions bespeak the authenticity of our faith. Integrity. 

Job’s faith is established through his acceptance of blessing as well as suffering which is not to say, Job liked his suffering nor did he think he deserved it. In fact, for the next twenty-nine chapters of the Book of Job, he never stops calling out to God, asserting his innocence, despising his condition and demanding God’s attention. And therein lies the key. Job never stops calling out to God because he sees God’s hand in the good as well as in the bad. 

This melodramatic tale of enduring faithfulness and resolute integrity has much to say to us today. As we navigate our troubled times, like Job we will do well to put our confidence in God with us regardless of the raging tides of our circumstance. Like Job we must act with integrity making our daily actions line up with our hearts values; receiving blessing as well as suffering. Rather than asking, “Who is to blame?” better we should ask, “Where is God in this?” 

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Gospel text for Sunday 30 September 2018

Mark 9:38-50        John said to Jesus, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.

“If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.

“For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”

Reflection  Recently a group of parishioners joined me to Pray for Peace with a diverse group of folks at the Muslim Community Center. Following the evening call to prayer we were served tea and Noah’s pudding. This simple act of hospitality is as much a revelation of God’s presence and action on earth as any Christian teaching, preaching or healing. In fact I would argue that the sweet and savory flavors of Noah’s pudding articulate an unsurpassed theology of union without uniformity, communion without conformity. Affixed to the cover of each container of Noah’s pudding was this message. 

“When Noah’s ark came to rest on Mt Ararat, Noah’s family celebrated with a special dish. SInce their supplies were nearly exhausted, what was left was cooked together to form a pudding, what is now called ashure. Ashure is a holiday celebrated annually in Turkey. It signifies many events for Muslims, among the most significant being Noah’s ark set on dry land. The month long festivities center on promoting friendhship, good relations between neighbors and universal peace and understanding.” In other words, Noah’s pudding is made of left overs, things that folks usually do not put together, just like the Presbyterian, Lutheran, Sikh, Roman Catholic, LDS, Muslim and Episcopalian folks, all mixed together in prayer for the sweet hope of peace.

Though we may not describe a cup of water or Noah’s pudding as acts of great power, we certainly see them as acts of love. And frankly, if our eyes are dim and our hearts hardened such that we fail to apprehend these gestures of hospitality as a revelation of God’s love then we may as well tie an enormous weight around our necks and be thrown into the sea. 

What is the point of proclaiming the Kingdom of God for all people if we step on or over one another? Better we should cut off our feet. What is the point of proclaiming God’s presence and action on earth is we fail to see simple acts of generosity as revelations of God’s presence and action among us? Better we should tear out our eyes. 

Jesus extends the endowment of his love to transform the lives of ordinary people, one person at a time. He welcomes a shunned man disfigured with leprosy (Mark 1:40–45), he forgives a man who is paralyzed by sin (Mark 2:1–12), he breaks Sabbath law to heal a man with a withered hand (Mark 3:1–6), he violates just about every religious custom by healing a hemorrhaging woman (Mark 5:25–34), he raises a religious official’s daughter from the dead, (Mark 5:21–42)  heals a deaf mute (Mark 7:31–37) and restores sight to a blind man at Bethsaida (Mark 8:22–25).

Jesus is also the consummate host, multiplying loaves and fish to feed crowds of four and five thousand people (Mark 8.1-10, Mark 6.30-44). Who knows why this crowd feeding story is told twice in Mark’s gospel? It may have been rerun to make the point to people who would hear, not read, the gospel. Even the least bit of hospitality, a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish, is sufficient to feed and transform the hearts and the minds of the masses. In the Episcopal Church we embody this wisdom every Sunday in our Eucharist. 

A tiny bit of bread, the smallest gluten free wafers known to humankind, yet this simple act of hospitality offered to anyone who extends their hands in humble supplication has the power to transform lives. And the same is so for the mere sip of wine. From the first time I served as a lay eucharistic minister offering the chalice to the people, I witnessed the depth and breadth of humanity in the eyes of the people. Brimming with tears of joy, loss and fear, squeezed shut in deep concentration, wide in wonder, drawn in consternation, staring far away. Then the singular word of assent, sometimes barely audible, others with a nod, or like one person whom I will always hear, two distinct syllables, said with the full force of her being. Ah - men. Derived from the Hebrew āmēn, which means certainty, truly, it is so.

One at a time we receive the body and blood of Christ, we accept the presence of God into whatever state we bring to the table; blind, mute, deaf, hard of heart, paralyzed by illness, possessed by demons, obcessed with addictions, drenched in fear or full of joy and gratitude. God meets us one on one, exactly as we are, offering the simplest gesture of hospitality, a bit of bread, a sip of wine.  All that is left for us to do is avow its veracity saying, “Amen, it is so.”

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Gospel text for Sunday 23 September 2018

Mark 9:30-37        Jesus and his disciples passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.” But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.

Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

Reflection       Last Tuesday evening I attended the Yom Kippur service with Rabbi Helen Cohn’s congregation. Yom Kippur, the highest and holiest day of the year, marks the end of the Jewish people’s ten days of penitence in preparation for their New Year. During her rabbinic reflection Rabbi Helen spoke about “sacred uncertainty,”  explicating an attitude of humility we are meant to bring to our relationships with God and one another. She counseled, “Do not to look at other people as incompetent versions of yourselves.” Hidden in the rabbi’s wisdom I heard Paul’s instruction to the Philippians,  “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus…” (Phil 2.5)

What if we took this counsel to heart and began to frame our questions from a humble  non-dualistic perspective? What if rather than regarding ourselves as equal with God, judging people and putting them in pigeonholes, good, bad, right, wrong, what if we adopted an attitude of “sacred uncertainty?”   What if we began to think with the Mind of Christ, as servants of humanity looking for connections rather than distinctions? 

Several months ago I encountered a person in a leadership role whom I was not able to  assign to a particular gender identity. At first I found this disconcerting. As I struggled to put this person in one box or another it occurred to me that I was asking the wrong question. The question is not, “Was this person born a biological male or female?” Nor is it, “In what gender role am I supposed to identify them?” The question is, “How am I connected with this person? What does this person have to say to me?” Which catapulted me out of the tension between this or that, male or female. When I let go of my dualistic way of looking at this person, I was able to experience them in relationship with me. 

“How am I connected with them?” In the deepest desires of our hearts; to be treated with respect,  to have access to decent lives and thereby experience meaning and value. I am connected with this person in our shared humanity and divinity and we both chose to be in this place this day.

Jesus, the Son of Humanity, the Son of God, is praised as King yet arrives in Jerusalem riding on an ass, presides at the Passover banquet then washes his guests feet. Jesus is haled as king of the chosen and executed as a criminal. Jesus is the embodiment of both-and, non-dual consciousness. This is the picture painted for us by Mark’s narrative and it raises some important questions.

What kind of mind set is this gospel inviting us to adopt? What might it look like if individually and as One Body we break out of our pigeon-holing boxes, stop asking questions that demand unproductive dualistic responses?  What if we fervently prayed to embody a both-and life of “sacred uncertainty/“ What if we put on the humble, nonpartisan Mind of Christ?

* Please listen to James Finley’s reflection on Thomas Merton’s teachings about the realization of uncertainty by clicking on image at the upper right of this post.

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Gospel text for Sunday 16 September 2018

Mark 8.27-38    Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

Reflection        Peter identifies Jesus as Messiah. Jesus shusses him and proceeds to call himself  “Son of Man.” Here’s the thing. The Jews have been waiting for a Messiah to come and rescue them from their suffering. In the Hebrew Testament ‘Messiah’ refers to kings, prophets or priests who are anointed with oil and set apart or consecrated for special missions or callings as chosen for them by God. 

When Peter identifies Jesus as ‘the Messiah’ he is only partially correct. As we saw at his baptism, Jesus is anointed and consecrated, he is favored by God. But, Jesus is more than that. He has not come to overthrow the Romans, rescue the Jews and establish a new political kingdom on earth. Jesus ministry is intended to reveal life on this earth lived in solidarity with God and with all people. 

The Jews hoped for a Messiah who would conquer their Roman oppressors so that they would be the ones in charge. But Jesus calls himself the ‘Son of Man.’ He embodies a new understanding of the relationship between God and humankind.

Jesus proceeds to teach that the Son of Man is not going to conquer the Romans nor be welcomed with open arms. Rather, he will suffer and be rejected by the religious officials. In fact, he will be killed, but, he will not be overcome, which is what, “in three days he will rise again” alludes to. Clearly this does not comport with the generally understood meaning of Messiah. Messiah is supposed to be hero, planting his victory banner on the mountaintop. Messiah is not supposed to suffer and be killed. Peter does not want to hear this, so much so that he basically says to Jesus, “Can we have a word?” Then takes him aside and rebukes his teacher. Jesus returns the favor telling Peter, “Get behind me.” 

Jesus embodies a new consciousness along with an invitation to a new earthly kingdom, an upside down kingdom wherein those who want to follow Jesus must lose life as they know it order to be restored to new life in right relationship with God and all people. Participating in this new kingdom means setting our minds on divine things - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control rather than on human things - pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, anger and laziness. 

The question is, which kingdom are we making now?

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks has done a multi part series on Morality in the 21st Century. To hear the first program, please click on the image in the upper right corner of your screen. 

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