- February 16, 2025 Sermon
The Rev. Joseph Farnes
All Saints, Boise
Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany, Year C
A few weeks ago we passed out a copy of the Beatitudes from Matthew’s Gospel. The Beatitudes at the start of Jesus’ sermon on the mountain in Matthew is a powerful call to the values of the Kingdom of God when the values of the world seem to threaten to undermine what we know as truth, mercy, righteousness, and love.
Today we got Luke’s version of the Beatitudes. Luke is a here-and-now evangelist; his telling of the Beatitudes of Jesus goes straight to how the Beatitudes are meant to be Good News now, for real flesh-and-blood people.
The Gospel is good news for the poor, now. The Gospel is good news for the hungry, now. The Gospel is good news for those who mourn, now. In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus cuts through any attempt to make the Kingdom of God a “pie in the sky” sort of image that promises change only in another world, in another lifetime.
In Luke’s telling, the Gospel has a bite to it. The Gospel is not here to make everyone feel happy, the Gospel is not here to proclaim a wisdom that can be reconciled to the world around us. In Luke’s telling, the Gospel makes a difference right here, right now.
In the Kingdom of God, Luke says, the poor inherit the Kingdom of God itself. In the Kingdom of God, the hungry are filled and those who mourn will laugh. In the Kingdom of God, those who are persecuted for standing up for Christ and for all that is good and right, those people will leap for joy because they know that the whole company of prophets is ready to welcome them in the everlasting life. The Kingdom of God is the goodness of eternity breaking into the world, the Kingdom of God is breaking up the worldliness that holds us down.
But in Luke’s telling, Jesus does not stop there. The bite of the Gospel now turns to the worldliness that holds us down.
The rich? Woe to them – they have their money, they already have their consolation. Why would they want the Kingdom of God anyway? They already possessed what was the most important thing to them.
The full? Woe to them – they’re still going to hunger the next day. And the next. They’re human beings – having all the resources in the world will not solve the problem that is being a mortal human being.
The jubilant with their boisterous laughter? Woe to them – I think of internet trolls who write all manner of hateful and nasty things to get a rise out of others and retreat to their smug laughter. At some point they’ll recognize that such condescension has left them just as alone as ever.
The people who get praise and honor and celebrity? Woe to them – they’re getting what they wanted in this life, even if it meant lies and flattery were all that they spoke.
The values of the Kingdom of God, the values of the Gospel don’t just replace the values of this-worldliness. The values of the world get smashed in order to liberate us from their falsehoods and limitations.
When the world tries to trap us into thinking that the goal in life is to be wealthy? Smash! The Gospel smashes that trap and invites us to love God and the Kingdom of Heaven more.
When the world tries to trap us into believing that we can smother our human limitations with more things, more materialism, more consumerism? Smash! The Gospel smashes that trap too. We are human beings, we are mortal human beings, and our fulfillment is in loving God and our neighbor.
When the world tries to trap us into smug superiority and cycles of anger and heartless laughter? Smash! The Gospel smashes it and says to mourn with those who mourn and weep over the ways we have not done what God has called us to do.
When the world tries to trap us with thinking fame and popularity mean anything at all, the Gospel smashes our way to freedom. If we can’t say anything of value, if all we do is flatter and lie, then all our words are meaningless, and so are the words of praise, too.
Luke’s telling of the Beatitudes wants nothing less for us than complete freedom. It wants us to be free to follow Jesus in everything, and it does not want the values of this-wordliness to trap us.
This is the power of the Resurrection. If the Resurrection is just a nice story, a happy metaphorical ending, then the values that are on display in the world seem to always have the upper hand. But if the Resurrection is true, which it is, then there is no power on this earth that can contain or stop the Kingdom of God. The Resurrection is a promise that the Kingdom of God is worth dying and living for.
The Kingdom of God where all God’s creatures belong – where all are fed, where all rejoice together, where truth is spoken and love abounds. The Kingdom of God is worth living for. It’s worth the hard work of loving God and loving our neighbor, of aligning our hearts with God’s values. The Kingdom of God is worth dying for – to stand for more than our own lives, to stand for the eternal life of Christ, to live so boldly that the worst that this world can throw at us will not dissuade or distract us from doing what is right.
The Beatitudes give us a glimpse into the Kingdom of God, and Jesus wants us to follow him in the Kingdom’s way of life. Do we want to live the freedom of the Kingdom, or do we want to enslave ourselves to the world? Which way do we want to choose to go? And we must choose. Amen.
- February 9, 2025 Sermon
Epiphany 5, Year C, 2025
Isaiah 6:1-8,(9-13); Lord sends Isaiah;
Psalm 138; I will give thanks to you, O Lord, you keep me safe;
1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Christ died for our sins; raised on the 3rd day;
Luke 5:1-11; Jesus calls first disciples; tells Peter he will be fisher of people;The readings today include 2 very different stories relating the call of God to 2 seemingly ordinary guys. The stories are different, and yet there are similarities. Isaiah “saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple.” Seraphs, or heavenly beings were in attendance. One called to another, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory.” Isaiah was overcome at being in the presence of the Lord, hearing the voices of those who called, and believing he was unworthy, a man of unclean lips. One of the seraphs touched Isaiah’s mouth with a hot coal, and said, “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” And the stories gets better! Isaiah heard the Lord say, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Isaiah answered, “Here I am; send me!”
When Jesus called Peter, it was in a very different setting. No thrones, no splendid robes, no winged seraphs flying about, at least not that the crowd could see. It was beside the sea of Gennesaret, what is known today as the Sea of Galilee). The fishermen had come in from a disappointing trip. Jesus got into the boat belonging to Simon Peter, and asked him to put out away from the shore, because the crowd was pressing in on Him to hear the word of God. When Jesus finished speaking, He asked Simon Peter to go into deep water again, and let down the nets. Simon Peter objected, but then said, “If you say so.”
They caught so many fish that their nets began to break. They called their partners in the other boat who came to help. Both boats were filled to the point of almost sinking. Everyone was amazed, and Simon Peter, like Isaiah, was overcome with his own sinfulness, in the presence of his Lord. Do you think Jesus telling Simon to put the boat out into deep water and let the nets down could be a metaphor for the invitation from God to leave our comfort zone, to try something different. There is a reason we call it a comfort zone – it is comfortable. It is familiar, we may have had successes there. We like it in that zone.
Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” Some years ago, a friend gave me a pin, in the shape of a fish hook. I can count on one hand the times I have been fishing. I mistook it for an anchor. I mean they are kind of shaped alike. And I thought, “Oh yes, God is my anchor, to keep my boat in place, to keep me from drifting too far off course.” I found it comforting. When I thanked my friend for the anchor pin, she said, “No, it is a fish hook, to signify that you will catch people for Jesus.” That was not comforting to me. That was scary. There was a time in my life when I was afraid that God would call me to something I could not do, something I didn’t want to do, something I was too timid to do. Then a wise Episcopal Priest told me, “You do not have to knock on doors for Jesus. Some people are good at that. And that is not you.”
In late October, 2017, we had the pleasure of Presiding Bishop Michael Curry being at our Diocesan Convention. He shared so much with us that weekend, in his preaching, teaching, with his presence. He preached like no other preacher I had ever heard in the Episcopal Church. I remember that he shared with us the following
African American Hymn:
“There is a balm in Gilead
to make the wounded whole,
there is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.Sometimes I feel discouraged
and think my work’s in vain,
but then the Holy Spirit
revives my soul again.If you cannot preach like Peter,
if you cannot pray like Paul,
you can tell the love of Jesus
and say, “He died for all”.”That prompted a conversation with a Deacon in our Diocese. I lamented that I wished I could preach like Michael Curry. She wrote in a card to me, “If you can’t preach like PB Michael – and who could – you can be you.” In his book, “Love is the Way,” Bp. Curry writes suggestions for creating and living a Rule of Life. In Tips to Get Started, he writes, “Be realistic. You do you. This isn’t about becoming a perfect version of yourself, or about achieving someone else’s idea of the right way to live. This is about living more fully in values you already hold by building some habits that fit comfortably into your regular life.”
Perhaps this account of Jesus’s call to the first disciples, and in particular Simon Peter, is about Jesus meeting someone where they live. God in Christ takes the initiative even as He calls us into relationship with Him. And the outcomes are unpredictable. “When they brought their boats to shore they left everything and followed Him.” That response has always amazed me. Jesus didn’t say, “You can continue to be a fisherman, live where you live, and stay with your family. And some days you’ll go out with me and spread the Good News to your neighbors and friends.” He could have said that, but He didn’t. He said, “Follow me.”
There is a map of Jesus’ ministry in the back of my Bible. Jesus and the disciples moved around, and travelled relatively far from home, when you consider that they were on foot. Jesus didn’t show them a map, or tell them where they would go. He just said, “Follow me.” Disciples are not always called away from their chosen vocation. Jesus makes His presence known in the midst of our work, where we live, when we are faithful disciples.
The other cool thing that happened was that when they caught so many fish to the point of breaking their nets, they called their partners in the other boat to help them. We are not on this journey alone. Here is another song I’ll quote: “The Servant Song.”
“We are pilgrims on a journey,
We are travelers on the road
We are here to help each other
Walk the mile and bear the load.”Ash Wednesday is 3½ weeks from today. Lent is always a good season to set aside time in prayer, meditation, and listening for that still small voice of God calling to us. “Follow me.”
The Rev. Robin Finch+
- February 2, 2025 Sermon
The Rev. Joseph Farnes
All Saints, Boise
Feast of the Presentation
Our Gospel reading for the feast of the Presentation today is so dense with meaning – it’s a shame that this reading only ends up being read on Sunday when February 2nd is on a Sunday. It doesn’t show up elsewhere in the Sunday reading cycle. So we only really hear it every five years or so. The last time I preached on it, it was 2020. That was many, many grey hairs ago.
So let me launch into the insights we can take away from the readings *this* time.
The Gospel reading says that when the time came for their purification, Mary and Jesus were taken to the Temple. We might wonder, “What needs to be purified?” For us, the concept of purification for impurity implies something being dirty, out-of-place, unworthy. For our forebears, however, ritual impurity was not a moral category. It was a ritual appropriateness. Mary had undergone the difficulties of pregnancy and birth, and Jesus was the first-born. Mary has been in a place of danger – as we know pregnancy and giving birth are dangerous – and so in the logic of the purification, she’s being brought back down into “normal” life. She was in a liminal, in-between space – if something goes wrong during those critical stages, it can go catastrophically wrong quickly. For ancient peoples, that kind of “energy” sticks around. It needs to be re-aligned. So, purification re-aligns that energy, hits the reset button.
Whether we agree with that ritual logic or not, it does make us pause and consider how we deal with some of these circumstances. When someone’s pregnant, we ooh and ahh over the possibilities – but it’s still a dangerous time for the mother. So much could go awry in a short period of time – and that’s why we should leave medical decisions around a woman’s pregnancy to her and her doctor because they are the ones who have to make a decision in that moment. And even after she’s given birth, there’s still the reality of hormones shifting and the possibility of post-partum depression. The process of pregnancy isn’t done once the baby is born! It’s adjustment before, during, and after. How do we care for someone in such a transitional state?
Or think at the other end of life – how do we deal with death? Do we sanitize it and rush it away as soon as possible so we can “get back to normal”? Our culture wants death and grief to be done as soon as possible so we can return to full productivity. What if we treated that as an in-between time, too? That we could maybe not be ok for a while, sit in mourning for a while?
So that’s purification.
And now onto the offering: Joseph and Mary offer two small birds because they were poor. They do not have the material resources for a larger offering.
Instinctively, we might wonder whether it’s appropriate to require an offering at all if they’re poor. Or, what if the importance is not so much the gift, but the act of giving itself? The giving back to God what belongs to God. What happens when we deny people the ability and the opportunity to give, even if what they have is small? Every little bit given is a gift of the heart. Everyone has the ability to give.
We’re all called to that life of generosity. As we say at the altar, everything we’re giving God is something God has already given us. It’s a gift from God, and we are called to be generous, too. Making space for an offering reminds us that we are called to give. The offering plate is not an “entrance fee” to the Kingdom of God or a membership fee to a club. It’s about embodying the life of generosity that God calls us to.
So that’s the offering.
And now onto the sage and the prophet, Simeon and Anna. They have been waiting in the Temple in prayer. Simeon’s been waiting for the Messiah, led by the Holy Spirit. Anna dedicated herself to prayer. And Simeon and Anna (unrelated to each other, just two older folks in the Temple!) pick up this child Jesus and sing praises to God and prophesy and evangelize.
In the Church, we often fret about numbers of children. We think so much about our own grey hairs. We worry and stress. But what if we took the posture of Simeon and Anna – to be like wise, loving bonus grandparents to the young and youthful? Do we bless the children in our midst, watch over them, love them, offer a gentle guidance, offer a word of encouragement? And to rejoice over even one child to give them the belonging in the household of God that they deserve?
In the early days, the church was an “alternative” family, a “chosen” family. People had been kicked out of their families for believing in Jesus. In their new family the church, they had fathers and mothers, aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters and children galore. People of all ages, races, ethnicities, genders, sexualities, backgrounds – all bound together in Jesus Christ. The diversity of the family of God becomes an inclusive community where all can find a welcome to belong, to grow in the knowledge and love of God, and to build one another up in equity, fairness, and righteousness.
In this new kind of family, we try to care for one another with tenderness – because we are called to be tender and loving. Sure, just like any human family the church does not fully and absolutely live up to that goal – yet we are called to keep praising God, blessing, praying, rejoicing, celebrating. Just like our offering, we are meant to keep on trying. So there is some wisdom for us on this Feast of the Presentation. Now, there is much, much more that could be said, and it’ll be five years or so before this reading comes around on Sunday again, and who knows what I’ll have to say at that point! So keep reading it, take it home and reflect. What else do you see in this reading?
- January 26, 2025 Sermon
The Rev. Joseph Farnes
All Saints Boise
Annual Meeting
What does it mean to be a Christian?
In my younger days, when I was leaving the church I grew up in, I remember thumbing through a catalog and looking at all the bumper stickers. I stumbled across one I loved: “Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian, just like being in the garage doesn’t make you a car.” I had left the church I grew up in for some deep theological reasons, like how they read the Bible and their refusal to ordain women. I also left because the same kids who sat next to me in deacons’ quorum and were in scouts with me were also some of my bullies. They could pray and talk about Jesus, but on the ride up to the hospital to visit another scout who was in the hospital with a broken leg, they also thought it fun to drive a screwdriver into my leg a few times.
So that bumper sticker stuck out to me. Going to church doesn’t make someone a follower of Jesus – actually following Jesus is what makes someone a follower of Jesus.
My mom and dad had raised me to read the Bible, and, even more importantly, to follow the way of life that Jesus called us to. As a kid, I remember frequent conversations about the Bible. Because the King James Version was difficult to read, I never made it very far, but the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew is conveniently toward the beginning of that Gospel. We’d discuss what it meant to look for the log in your own eye, to keep watch on your own thoughts, God caring for those in deepest need, to love your neighbor as yourself.
I could read the Bible all I want, but unless it made its way into my heart and into the way I lived, then it was just a bunch of words. And I saw what happened when it became empty words – people who would pray next to me on Sunday could just as easily see me as garbage to be bullied the rest of the week.
Being a Christian is more than going to church – being a Christian is behaving as if the words of Jesus actually matter, that the words and life and witness of Jesus actually mean something.
I guess I never fully understood that people could say they follow Jesus and call themselves Christian and yet not even want to listen to what Jesus said, that what mattered most was their own opinions, their own feelings, their own in-group, their own conviction of their own perfect righteousness and the absolute wickedness of anyone else.
The problem wasn’t that I needed to understand the Bible better so as to convince them – they were convinced that the Bible said only what they believed already. The problem wasn’t that I needed to speak the language of the Bible to reach them – words like “mercy” and “justice” and “love” and “self-discipline” and “grace” – but they wouldn’t understand those, either.
But that’s been the way since the beginning, honestly. Today’s Gospel reading from Luke does us a bit of a disservice because it cuts the story short – and since next Sunday is the Feast of the Presentation, we won’t hear the rest of the story this year! Let me read the whole thing:
(Luke 4: 16-30) When Jesus came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
18 ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.’
20And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21Then he began to say to them, ‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’ 22All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, ‘Is not this Joseph’s son?’ 23He said to them, ‘Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, “Doctor, cure yourself!” And you will say, “Do here also in your home town the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.” ’ 24And he said, ‘Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town. 25But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; 26yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. 27There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.’ 28When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. 29They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. 30But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.”
The year of the Lord’s favor – good news to the poor, release to captives, healing for the sick, the liberation of the oppressed – those were nice words, safe words. They liked him then. But when it became clear that Jesus wasn’t here to perform miracles for show that God had in mind to bring good news to the living poor, release to the captives down the street, healing for the sick who begged passersby for help, and liberation for the oppressed who were detested, then the trouble started. Now the year of the Lord’s favor was real. And the crowd’s opinion changed. How dare Jesus say such words! To the cliff they drove him that they may toss him off the edge.
“But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.”
Yes, the pain of rejection. Yes, the threat of death.
But Jesus had a vocation, Jesus had a path to follow, and Jesus knew where he was going. To proclaim good news to the poor, release to the captives, healing for the sick, the liberation of the oppressed, to announce and herald the year of the Lord’s favor, to bring in the Kingdom of God, a kingdom of mercy and loving-kindness, a kingdom of justice and truth, a kingdom wherein God in the fullness of majesty and love dwells in our hearts, in our minds, in our souls, in our midst.
The fact is, it isn’t easy to actually follow Jesus in this world. To follow Jesus means looking past the surface to see with the prophet’s eyes at the reality that is hidden by “the way things just are.” It means listening with the mystic’s ear to hear the song of the angels and be drawn into the heavenly courts to sing alongside the saints. It means doing the works of Jesus the Messiah, the only Lord in this world – caring for the fearful and those in need, speaking truth, healing the sick, feeding the hungry, making one body in Christ what the world threatens to dismember. Though many, we are one body: One Bread, One Cup, One Baptism, One Lord Jesus Christ.
What does it mean to be a Christian? To do the works Christ has given us to do, with gladness and singleness of heart. Amen.
- January 19, 2025 Sermon
The Rev. Joseph Farnes
Second Sunday after the Epiphany, Year C
All Saints, Boise
In John’s Gospel, Jesus’ public ministry doesn’t begin with healing the sick, casting out unclean spirits, or feeding the multitudes; it begins with wine at a wedding. John’s Gospel tells the story of Jesus in a very different way than the other three Gospels.
And it’s not even the “right” time. Jesus’ mother turns to her son at the wedding to tell him that the wine has run out. The married couple will be starting off their married life on the wrong foot; running out of food or wine at the party is a bad omen indeed! But Jesus asks, “So what? What does that mean to you or to me? My hour has not yet come.”
But Jesus’ mother doesn’t even respond to that. She turns to the servants: “Do whatever he tells you.” It is a comedic moment! It’s not the “right” time. Jesus’ mother doesn’t even argue back with him. She just puts him in an awkward spot. Just as the hosts are under social pressure to provide food and wine to their guests, now Jesus is under social pressure driven by his mother to do something to fix it.
And so he does something. Much like the feeding miracles, there’s no show, no hocus pocus or alakazam. He just tells the servants to fill the water jars, then take some to the steward, and its wine. Not just wine, but really good wine.
Jesus does this wonderful miracle, an almost silly miracle. Wine for a party? That’s the first miracle, according to John.
But notice how the miracle happens: it’s the work of a community. Jesus’ mom brings his attention to the problem, and she tells the servants to do whatever Jesus tells them to. The servants fill up the water jars, and take some to the steward. The steward tastes it and evaluates the quality of the wine. Jesus is involved at each step: listening to his mom, even if not excited about it; directing the servants in what to do; turning the water into wine. Other people are part of the miracle.
Our lives as Christians are like the miracle at the wedding of Cana. We’re coworkers with Jesus, and we’re coworkers with one another.
We bring the needs of the world to Jesus. We pray for those in pain, for the oppressed, for the marginalized, for all God’s creatures, for the church and the nations of Earth. And instead of arguing with Jesus about doing something, then we start the ball rolling. Like Jesus’ mother, we tell Jesus and then we start working. We start organizing a solution even if we don’t have it all planned out. Jesus’ mother wasn’t exactly sure what would happen or how it would happen, but that Jesus would help make something happen was sure, and the servants needed to be ready.
And this miracle at the wedding in Cana is a miracle we keep living out. We take turns – praying, getting things organized, doing the work – and along the way the miracle happens.
We know that people need to be fed – and our monthly Community Meal and Food Truck do that, and our ongoing collection for the St Vincent de Paul food pantry does that, too. We don’t wait around for Jesus to make it happen. We do what we can. And then we turn to our elected leaders to ask why people are hungry when we live in a land of abundance.
We know that people are longing for wisdom for living – and we have spiritual formation for all ages. Our young’uns go off to Sunday School, some of our youth help teach (and learn), we gather for Bible study, we engage in deep questions, we reflect on the words of the Bible. And then we keep the conversation going. We’re not waiting for the right person to tell us what it all means so we never have to think again – it’s a living relationship with Jesus that we’re after. Might you be called to help lead a conversation to help us grow in the love of God?
We know that people are longing for community and friendship. We gather for worship, and we have snacks afterward. The coffee hour hosts set up coffee and snacks, and we’re grateful for a reason to hang out together. Might you be called to make coffee and bring in some snacks for our fellowship, might you be called to sit with someone and make sure they’re included in the conversation? We pray for a vibrant, inclusive community – but we also have our role in making that happen, a very important role in inviting, serving, hosting, including others. What might you be called to do to make that happen?
Everyone in the Gospel story has a different part to play at any given moment. Hence why St Paul writes in his first letter to the Corinthians about all the different gifts. There are a variety of gifts and callings that we are called into for any given moment. Gifts of wisdom, gifts of encouragement, gifts of teaching, gifts of fellowship and the gifts of being able to make a pot of coffee. We bring something to the ongoing miracle-work of Jesus Christ in this world. We aren’t called to do everything. The Gospel story we hear today isn’t Jesus noticing the wine’s run out, drawing all the water, getting everything set up, taking the new wine to the steward. Jesus’ first miracle isn’t a “one-man show” – nor is it a one-person show for us. We can work toward meeting the needs of the world our little part at a time.
We know that the needs of the world are immense. At the global scale, we have the disparity of wealth that keeps growing and the ongoing destruction of our planet’s ecological balance. At the national scale, we have that deepening divide between those who hoard up wealth and those who don’t have enough to thrive in this land of plenty, and we have a growing, gnawing sense of despair about whether anything good will happen for everyone again. And at our state and local levels, we see the ongoing crises of underemployment, under compensation, and underfunded education…and the crisis that leaders seem to want to do anything BUT deal with those.
We pray for all these needs, day in and day out. We bring them to Christ for his healing power, his generous heart, his miracle-working love. And then we get the ball rolling. We get it moving. What are you called to do to get the ball rolling for the next miracle of Christ? What are you called to do to get the miracle moving along? What will you do to be part of the miracle? Amen.