Only when they spread their wings are they the wakers of a wind: as if God with his broad sculptor’s hands were turning pages in the dark book of the beginning. 
       - Rainer Maria Rilke


READING:
When God began to create the heavens and the earth— the earth was without shape or form, it was dark over the deep sea, and God’s wind swept over the waters… Then God said, “Let us make humanity in our image to resemble us so that they may take charge of the fish of the sea, the birds in the sky, the livestock, all the earth, and all the crawling things on earth.” God created humanity in God’s own image, in the divine image God created them, male and female God created them …the Lord God formed the human from the topsoil of the fertile land and blew life’s breath into his nostrils.
                         - Genesis 1.1-2, 26-27; 2.7 (CEB)



REFLECTION:
It’s early – wicked early – but I can’t sleep for the wind stirring in my spirit; urging me, enticing me, inspiring me… challenging me to pray, reflect, listen, and write something of substance on freedom and equality. The very prospect is exciting because this conviction – the equality of all - has a prominent place in my heart; on this one theological issue at least, there is no ambiguity; on this point God’s Spirit brooks no excuses. 

Despite our best efforts over the years to coax the biblical tradition to support notions of our superiority over others (feel free to define our as you will), the biblical tradition has spread its wings and wakened the wind, inviting us to soar above and beyond the limits imposed by fear, jealousy, and a sense of entitlement; and to see the human community from God’s perspective: equal and unified. 

Despite our diligent attempts to paint Jesus as the defender of all things free – markets, accumulation of wealth, the assertion of power and control – Jesus emphatically refuses this role. Read his story; you don’t have to take my word for it; there is a clear sub-text. “Ain’t gonna happen,” Jesus insists. “You won’t use me to assert economy over equality, privilege over poverty, personal security over succor for the weak and marginalized. Ain’t gonna happen.”

And despite our fervent desire to bundle up against the wind and avoid being swept away on God’s cause, the wind has been wakened; the same wind that swept over chaos “in the beginning,” presaging the explosion of God’s creative activity. That wind continues to blow because God, with sculptor’s hands, continues to create children, women, and men in the divine image. The one, clear divine image, mind you. This image doesn’t come in stages or degrees. This image is not an entitlement. This image is not deserved but granted as a gift… to all. We are called to recognize and embrace its profoundly simple reality, a sign of God’s tender embrace of each and every individual, culture, and people. It’s just easier to recognize from above the clouds. Shall we soar?

                                     - Bo

The table fellowship of Christians implies obligation. It is our daily bread that we eat, not my own. We share our bread. Thus we are firmly bound to one another not only in the Spirit but in our whole physical being. The one bread that is given to our fellowship links us together in a firm covenant. Now none dares to go hungry as long as another has bread, and anyone who breaks this fellowship of the physical life also breaks the fellowship of the Spirit.
                                                              — Dietrich Bonhoeffer

READING:
When they finished eating, Jesus asked Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” Simon replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” Jesus asked a second time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Simon replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Take care of my sheep.” He asked a third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was sad that Jesus asked him a third time, “Do you love me?” He replied, “Lord, you know everything; you know I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.
                                                              - John 21.15-17 (CEB)

REFLECTION:
A friend recently shared with me that while most of us claim to harbor God's love in our hearts, that love is worthless unless we give it expression. Unless, that is to say, it flows through our lives into the lives of others. You know, into the lives of those pesky neighbors Jesus was always on about! My friend’s sentiment rang true to the life and message of Jesus, which I found mystifying, since my friend is Muslim. This twist in the conversation brought the words of Thomas Aquinas to mind, "One may never have heard the sacred word “Christ,” but be closer to God than a priest or nun." But that is not my point, so I will move on.

If we love God we will reach out to our neighbor to offer nurture and nourishment; or, to use the language of the New Testament, we will feed God's sheep. Fair enough; but what does that mean? What do we have to offer? Peter must have been haunted by that question as time and again Jesus challenged him to show his love for the risen Lord by feeding his sheep. What do we have to offer our neighbors? It is the same for us in our day as it was for Peter back in the day: address their needs; share from our bounty; offer personal, material, and spiritual support.

I must admit, that challenge makes me nervous, especially with Thanksgiving just around the corner. You see, I want to have that choice drumstick all to myself at the family feast, just as my cousin Richard used to manage (every year! Thanksgiving and Christmas.) I want to sit down at the thanksgiving table, thank God for the many blessings in my life, then keep them all for myself (especially that choice piece of turkey!) But - no - I'm supposed to share, just as Peter was to share. And If that’s not enough, Dietrich Bonhoeffer offered his two cents on the issue. “It is our daily bread that we eat,” he said, “not my own. We share our bread.“ I’ll have to admit, this is not a bad reminder as we approach the season of gratitude.

So, how do we express our love for God; how do we offer thanks for our many blessings? By feeding God's sheep, as Peter learned. Ann Weems seems to have learned this lesson, and speaks of it in a poem entitled Feeding Sheep. Perhaps if we interlace her words with Peter' story we will get a clear sense of what we should do next week:

When they finished eating, Jesus asked Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” Simon replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” He said, “Feed my lambs.” There were no conditions… Jesus asked a second time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Simon replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Take care of my sheep.” He said, “Take care of my sheep… feed my sheep.” There were no conditions… Least of all, feed my sheep if they deserve it. Feed my sheep if you feel like it. Feed my sheep if you have any leftovers. He asked a third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was sad that Jesus asked him a third time, “Do you love me?” He replied, “Lord, you know everything; you know I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.” No conditions… just, “Feed my sheep.” Could it be that God’s Kingdom will come when each lamb is fed? We who have agreed to keep covenant are called… to feed sheep.

No conditions, just feed my sheep. No conditions, but I still have one question; may I please have the drumstick?

“…These words – the words of Jesus - are not a list to be read. They are not even a sermon to be preached. They are a score to be played…”
           - Dominic Crossan 
             (clarification added)

 I am a hole in a flute that the Christ’s breath moves through— listen to this music.  
                                                - Hafiz

READING:
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
                                                  - Hebrews 12.1-2 (NRSV)  

REFLECTION:
We have invited the members of our faith community to adorn the chancel on Sunday with photographs of loved ones whose memory they want to honor on All Saints Sunday. We’ve done this before; so I know from experience that this visual reminder of that great cloud of witnesses surrounding us is both moving and powerful. I’ve looked forward to it for months. So imagine my near panic when I couldn’t find my favorite picture of mama and daddy; two of the many saints that have graced my life, and let’s face it… my favorite saints. 

I searched high and low around the house, and couldn’t find it anywhere (in point of fact, I still haven’t found it!). I was devastated, and as I searched fell deeper and deeper into a funk; until it dawned on me that I didn’t need an image at all, because their voices still resonate within my spirit. I can still hear the spiritual wisdom they shared with me, the sage advice they offered. Occasionally I have to dismiss mom’s disapproving refrain, “Bobo, I taught you better than that…” I can’t forget it, because she said it so often (my personal development was, shall we say, slow to see the light of day, and often obscured by clouds), but no one offers gems of wisdom every time.

I am still guided by their voices, voices in which I find comfort and courage; and theirs are not the only ones. There are more voices, many voices to which I can turn for inspiration and hope. One voice, two voices, three and more, all speaking at once. You might think it would be hard to hear anything useful amidst such cacophony, but it’s not. Voices that speak in love and support, voices whose only purpose is to give, to share with others; these voices blend, harmonize, and in truth become one. Beyond the deafening roar of such a multitude, there is the sound of but one voice. This voice offers us an inkling of the unity that grows in and around us when we open our spirits, and add our voices to theirs; a hint of the music God yearns to make through our lives. Listen; can you hear the music?  

He drew a circle that shut me out – Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But Love and I had the wit to win, and we drew a circle that took him in!
                               - Edwin Markham


READING
“Let us make humanity in our image to resemble us”… God created humanity in God’s own image… male and female God created them. …There was evening and there was morning: the sixth day.
- Genesis 1.26f. (edited)


REFLECTION
World Communion is always a sweet experience for me. The very thought of sharing communion with Christians around the globe thrills me. The fact that it may be celebrated with coconut milk, wine, nut beer, or stale Diet Pepsi makes no difference; the fact that it may be celebrated in a somber manner or with vibrant dancing makes no difference; and the fact that it may be celebrated in church, under a tree, or hidden from the view of predators makes no difference. When we gather at God’s Table, in both act and intention we are one. We dip, eat, remember, and believe.

The celebration of World Communion is way sweet! But, to be honest, it has a touch of bitterness as well; at least for me. World Communion is bittersweet for me in at least two ways. Firstly, the unity we celebrate in ritual form doesn’t translate into actual unity. The ideal of Christian unity is just that… an ideal; it is a fervent yearning nestled deep in God’s heart. From worship wars to doctrinal disputes to the rejection of heretics (whatever that means) to divisions over social issues; there is little that resembles unity among Christians. We play games with the circles we draw, seems we're persnickety about whom we admit. In the face of this reality, I pledge each year that I will refuse to be a part of the problem. I refuse to withhold fellowship from those who differ from me in the expression of faith; I refuse to withhold fellowship from those who differ from me in their reading of the biblical tradition; and I refuse to withhold fellowship from those of a different social or political stripe. Only with this attitude can I approach in good conscience the celebration of World Communion.

Secondly, World Communion is bittersweet for me because it excludes, rejects, ignores, or condescends to God’s other Children (the title of an excellent book by Bradley Malkovsky). Be they Hindu, Muslim, Agnostic …whatever; in my humble opinion their spirit is marked indelibly with that divine image mentioned in Genesis 1. Is there no unity we can recognize or pursue with them? My all time favorite World Communion memory is of the year my congregation celebrated communion under the sukkah of peace (a shelter erected during Jewish Sukkoth, which fell at the same time), accompanied by friends from the Temple that was nested in our church. I felt the presence of God in an intense manner that day; I felt spiritually clean, if that makes any sense; and I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. I recognized that day a yearning nestled deep in my heart; a prayer for the day God will spoil our circle games and bring such unity to fruition. Will you pray with me?