From Mercy to Grace through Love

Mercy is that little break you need when just one more thing will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back; mercy is that space of relief you need when you just can’t take it anymore … which is why theologians talk about the quality of mercy … how deep does it need to be, how abiding must it be? The answer is, that stuff doesn’t matter, what matters is that there is, in the end, mercy, for those who are plugged into God

God has promised to all of us, who are made in God’s own image, who are living out the lives God has given us, that God will bless us, if we just remember to stay plugged in, and if we do that, we ourselves will become the blessing, and those who bless us will be blessed and all the earth will be blessed … wow, and it all starts with love in our own hearts (as God created us to be, after all) … love builds up as Paul says.

Faith, unlike what you have heard, is not about following rules. Faith is about what is in your heart. Are you in love with God’s love? It won’t matter what you say outwardly because God who is love will know, from what is truly in your heart. What to do about deeper faith, closer connection? Clear the cobwebs from your mind and your soul and just let your heart love.

And this will be righteousness which is grace lived out, which follows faith as. That’s another way of saying love builds up.

Jesus says, “pay attention.” It is a conundrum for sure how we all are alike and at the same time all completely different. And yet it is eternally true that that *#*$ person over there is a child of creation and an heir of God and is as created in God’s image as you and I are. And so Jesus’ admonition to “pay attention” is a reminder that it is from God that love comes and to God that love goes but only through the complex interlinking synergistic universe of all creation that love flows. In other words, it is in this universal access to God’s love that we all are the same, even in our fabulous uniqueness.

Which is another reason for God’s LGBTQ heirs to ponder faith, mercy, righteousness and grace in Lent. We are God’ specially created people who are identified uniquely by how we love. Building up that love is our job.

2 Lent Year A 2023 RCL (Genesis 12:1-4a; Psalm 121 Levavi oculos; Romans 4:1-5, 13-17; John 3:1-17) ©2023 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Love is All You Need

Awhile back when we were excited that our family would be all together in mid-September I ordered a bunch of DVDs from a postal DVD service (you know who I mean). For some reason it kept wanting me to order Yellow Submarine (The Beatles 1968) so I did. For years now, when I am without a parish, instead of worrying a sermon and going to bed at 7:30 I make pizza (I make wonderful pizza) and we have movie night. I thought Yellow Submarine would be fun and we would all sing along. Well, it didn’t show up, so we didn’t get to watch it together.

Yesterday, six weeks late, it showed up, so we watched it with the last pizza Margherita of the season. In the first 30 seconds I quickly was transported back to the psychedelic 70s and blurted out “this would be better if we were stoned.” (I do date back to the ancient days of the Age of Aquarius after all, but not to worry we forged ahead with our consciousness unaltered.)

Interestingly, as the movie went on I could see there was one firm message embedded in the movie, in the music. It is this:

Love, love, love …
There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done
Nothing you can sing that can’t be sung
Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game
It’s easy
Nothing you can make that can’t be made
No one you can save that can’t be saved
Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time
It’s easy
All you need is love …
Love is all you need …

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: John Lennon / Paul Mccartney
All You Need Is Love lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

All you need is love, indeed. It seems it is not news now, even though it seems every day to be news to new generations, that we are surrounded by grace. Grace is God’s gift of love. Grace, therefore, is justice and unity and abiding love. Love is always a possibility, therefore grace precedes and follows us always. But it is up to us to grasp it. It is up to us to make sense of it. It is up to us to nurture grace with love.

There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done
All you need is love …

On the other hand, it is pretty common to have an inverted view of reality such that we see ourselves but not the role we play. Like a forest for the trees idiom we bear down on our own situation without remembering to see how we fit. This is a polite way of saying we make ourselves miserable by forgetting that it isn’t God who has abandoned us rather, it is we who have abandoned God. We “look” for God, but in reality God is always with us in the living out of love. To find God all we have to do is love

God is always present. God always has been present. We always have been in the presence of God. Love always is potential. Love always has been potential. We always have been in the potentiality of love

Loving, living in love, walking in love—loving requires boldness. Boldness in loving is the doorway to grace and mercy. If we hear Christ’s commandment to love one another as ourselves we hold confidence and pride firmly as hope. Hope is our invitation to grace.

You can learn how to be you in time
It’s easy
All you need is love

The parable of the rich man (Mark 10: 17-31) places us in the context of grace and hope. Love is always potential and grace is always near. Hope is always justified in confidence. But we must love. To love we must give up those things that bind us. To love we must give up those things that blind us. It is those things that bind and blind us that cut us off from the love we are called to live. Who is last and who is first? Those who give love are always first.

The LGBTQ community of love is first because so often we are last. To be fully the LGBTQ people God created us to be in God’s own image means “giving up” the closet that binds us and blinds us so that we might live boldly the lives of love intended for us. It is love that defines our community. It is living in the boldness of loving that opens the doorway to grace and mercy. We can indeed learn how to be us, all we need is love.

I remember as though it were an old movie how it was when I came out as a gay man. The smiles of my brothers in the gay community were a reflection of the relief in their hearts that I had given up the blinding binder to live in the community of love and loving. The hugs that greeted me were an expression of welcome and joy that I had learned how to be me.

One, two, three, four
Can I have a little more?
Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten
I love you …
Look at me
All together now …
All together now
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: John Lennon / Paul McCartney
All Together Now lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

All together now: love is all you need.

Proper 23 Year B 2012 RCL (Job 23:1-9, 16-17; Psalm 22:1-15 Deus, Deus meus; Hebrews 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31)

©2021 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Grace, Mercy, Love

One thing a year and a half of pandemic has taught us over and over is how interconnected everything is. We don’t need to be as extreme as was Jurassic Park to see the interconnections all around us. For example, I can see that the lockdown increased my landscaper’s depression, which mucked up his business, which left me with weeds and leaves everywhere, which led to the takeover by wildlife of parts of my yard. That’s a mild example mind you. But at last things are approaching a new sort of equilibrium. I have a nicer garden and a recovering lawn and once again am able to enjoy the outdoor space, especially under the star-lit Oregon evening sky. There is grace in the beauty and harmony of creation. And there is mercy in the forgiveness of nature.

Maybe then, there is grace in the equilibrium of life as we regenerate it and mercy too—we are forgiven our early pandemic transgressions the better to let grace fill us with love. Mercy is the action of showing love in the face of pain or adversity. It is a particular form of love in which power differentials shift so that forgiveness replaces the friction caused by the absence of love with the possibility of new love. Love, indeed merciful love, creates more love, which in turn teaches better than any retribution.

The epistle to the Ephesians (4:1-16) reminds us that we must grow up—mature–into loving people (“we must no longer be children … we must grow up in every way”) because the whole body of creation demands mature love, lived out in “humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing one another in love,” bringing grace to all. For how many of us has the pandemic been a “growing up” experience, despite our chronology? For how many of us has the pandemic been a time of mercy and grace?

In John’s Gospel (6:24-35) we have the aftermath of the feeding of five thousand with loaves and fishes. The miracle is followed by Jesus’ attempts to withdraw, to rest and restore. Here there is mutuality in the mercy because Jesus needs the mercy of solitude at the same time that the crowds need the mercy of his explicit love. He preaches that “the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” Of course, he means that he has come to give life to the world. The life he has come to give is the explicit knowledge of the power of love. The message is layered in the examples of grace and mercy, in the metaphor of the “bread of God” which is love, which is the food that endures for eternity. It is in the demonstration of the building of love in the multiplying of the loaves and fishes that we see the true power of God’s love.

The continuing saga of David’s sin (2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a) reveals the truth that all sin against each other is, in essence, sin against God. In his repentance David appeals for mercy and hopes for grace. Psalm 51 reminds us that a clean heart is the result of the receipt of merciful love. It brings us full circle to the mutuality and interconnectedness of creation, to the layered interplay of grace and mercy as pathways to mature love.

Complex theology and scripture lead us to the inevitable conclusion that we are critical players in God’s creation. We are pivotal actors in God’s dominion of love. It is the love we show each other that has the power to heal and restore and regenerate the equilibrium that must now evolve if the pandemic is to be overcome. It is the mature love we must live out that has the power to generate grace through mercy.

It is especially our call as LGBTQ heirs of the dominion of love to play a leading role in this time. It is we, those people who are created in God’s image as people who are identified by our love, who must show all of creation the corners of mercy and the neighborhoods of grace that magnify the love we share. It is we who create logical families with love who can show “humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing one another in love.”

Proper 13 Year B 2021 RCL (2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a; Psalm 51:1-13; Ephesians 4:1-16; John 6:24-35)

©2021 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

On Sunshine and Revolving Doors

The sun is shining in my part of Oregon. This side of the equinox we have to be aware of approaching autumn, but after winds, fires, smoke, torrential downpours and cold gray days it is nice to have the sun back, to be looking forward to gardening in the warm sun with a streak of 80º days (27ºC more or less) coming. It is as though creation has decided to have mercy on us. The rain has begun to make it look like spring; where brown lawns had begun to look like shredded wheat there now is a new layer of green poking through. The trees are standing tall and proud, no longer cringing in fear of the fire and smoke.

We still have a pandemic, of course. We still have a nation in constant crisis—it feels like we are stuck in a revolving door and can’t get out sometimes. We still are separated from those whose hugs we treasure. Still, we know mercy in the smiles and laughs and voices we see and hear on whatever technology we can muster to pierce the isolation. Social coping mechanisms also are beginning to appear—early in the pandemic, for example, restaurants discovered the idea of ordering online for drive-up takeaway; now we read some US airlines are following the lead of major international carriers and instituting COVID testing prior to boarding. A European friend tells me about how they have learned to stretch their quarantine bubbles by melding quarantined families. We are experiencing God’s mercy in these acts of love. As we know, God is love, and God’s mercy, therefore, is known to us as is the mercy of all of creation, in the ways we express love to each other. God’s power is known to us in these expressions of love.

In his letter to the church at Philippi (Philippians 2:1-13) Paul speaks of “encouragement in Christ, consolation from love” and entreats his listeners to “make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love” remembering always to “work out your own salvation … for it is God who is at work in you.”  It is recognition that joy is complete in love given, the giving of love builds up more love, and the building up of love fills the cup of God’s mercy to overflowing.

In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus tells a parable of two sons called by their father to work in the vineyard; the first son refuses but goes, the second son agrees but does not go. The first son, of course, is designated righteous for having considered, reconsidered and decided to make an expression of love. It is the story of all of us working our way through these radical times. When life brought us up short in the end of winter with a pandemic followed in short order by a lock-down we froze. In many ways we were too frightened—too human perhaps, overwhelmed by our own emotions that were reinforced by endorphins that said “run and hide.” Eventually, like the righteous son, we relaxed a bit, we reconsidered, and we began to give love. We called friends and relatives. We learned to use online communication technologies. I recently reminded a friend this was what we all had thought was just around the corner in the 1960s when we watched The Jetsons make routine video calls! At any rate, as we began to express love to each other that love built and built, and in this way we are working out our own salvation even as we work out the very mercy of creation.

It is important for LGBTQ people to remember to focus on expressing love in all that we do, so that we are not knocked off our stride by that revolving door I mentioned. It is especially important as we move through the next weeks that we stay focused on working out our own salvation by remaining focused on expressing the love that defines our God-given identities. Love life, love creation, love yourself and especially love each other. Make a point in every moment to give an expression of love. It is how we get off of that merry-go-round and stride ahead in life. It is with love that we continue to build up God’s mercy.

 

Proper 21 Year A 2020 RCL (Exodus 17:1-7; Psalm 78:1-4, 12-16; Philippians 2:1-13; Matthew 21:23-32)

©2020 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Great is our Faith

Staying connected during the pandemic has been an interesting challenge, one might even say it has been an interesting opportunity. Forced to “lock-down” or “quarantine” or “distance” we all have had to find ways to reach out for human contact. The need for human contact, of course, is more than social it is spiritual, because it is through our connections with each other that we manifest connection with God and with the energy we recognize as a universal life force (which, is God). It has been said more than a few times that introverts (like me and most of the people closest to me) have had a better time of it, given that we are already accustomed to the notion that it is by being most in touch with ourselves that we achieve close connection with God, which then allows or assists us in being in touch with other people. An interesting question might be how much inwardness during this time skates close to sin. Another way of asking the question might be to ask how much connectedness does godly life, the very definition of full connection, require of us?

Of course, we all are forced to pay attention to safety first, the very continuation of life requires that of us. Once certain of safety we then can turn our attention to the idea of healing in the community. I know that it was the duality of these two needs that had me calling almost everybody I ever knew in the first weeks of the first lock-down. It seemed everybody had the same idea judging from the number of calls and texts I received then. It was as though we all took a deep breath after locking the door and thought at once “how can we maintain a community of healing love in this time?” and the answer was “reach out however you can.”

Now we are months and months into this; we begin to hope for a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel but there is more difficult news every day, at least in the United States. Where, then, is connection and where is disconnection and how does any of it relate to sin?

In the story of Joseph’s revelation to his brothers (Genesis 45: 1-15), who we might recall sold him into servitude in Egypt, the surprise is that Joseph does not resent his brothers but rather forgives them because, as he says, “God sent me before you to preserve life … so it was not you who sent me here, but God.” It is one of those neat twists that make up good literature, I guess, except in this case it is the revelation of God’s work. Sometimes surprises in life are, in fact, intentional revelations of the action of God in the world. The upshot is that these twists, which sometimes unsettle us, are intended to increase the love and welfare of the whole of creation. Of course, that means that we will, in the end, see love and welfare increase for us as well. We receive when we give. We give when we follow in faith.

It all raises the question then, what if this time of indwelling was called by God for the benefit of creation, the increase of love, the end of sin?

In Romans 11:29 Paul writes “for the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.” All of life is called by God, all of life is called into mercy which is the ultimate elimination of sin, therefore all of life is called into connectedness. We all are called into connectedness. We all are called into the increase of love and this is God’s mercy.

In Matthew’s Gospel (15:21-28) Jesus reminds us (warns us actually) that it is through our human actions—words mostly—that what is in our hearts is expressed. The words we speak come from our hearts; all of this connectedness through conversation during this time of trial is, indeed, increased love. It is love given freely by each of us, and each time we give love we increase the love that is available for everyone. Love builds up.

Later in the same passage Jesus is approached by a woman who is not Jewish whose daughter is tormented. She asks and asks and asks him for help. Although the human Jesus resists at first the godly Jesus sees her faith and heals her daughter by the words, which come directly from his human and godly heart. His words heal because they give love. His action heals because it overcomes social constrictions to acknowledge the universality of God’s promise of salvation.

It is yet another sign of the present times that we can find so much connection in this scripture to our own times. We are connected to each other, we build up love by our connection, we heal by building up love, and we know that our love reaches out past social constrictions. Certainly we who are God’s LGBTQ people know well enough what it is like to be from a social group that is “other.” And certainly we who are God’s LGBTQ people know the power of sharing love. Great is our faith.

 

Proper 15 Year A 2020 RCL (Genesis 45: 1-15; Psalm 133; Romans 11: 1-2a, 29-32; Matthew 15: (10-20), 21-28)

©2020 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Continual Mercy

August in the Pacific Northwest is beautiful. Summer is fully ours, everything is green, the sky is blue, the sun is warm, the blessings of creation are constant and continuous—never ending, reliable, trustworthy. I guess those three terms also describe just about all of my close relationships these days. We are all a bit more dependent on each other than we are accustomed to but there is comfort in the backstop we have in each other—we share love that is never ending, reliable, trustworthy—continuous. We are now in month six of the pandemic that we were told would last a few weeks. Relying on the continuous love of those with whom we are close is the most important comfort these days. And the warm sun, I have to admit, the caress of creation when I wander in my garden, is delightful.

Jacob’s story is continued in today’s reading from Genesis (32:22-31). Jacob gets up at night and takes his whole household and all of their possessions and moves out. In the middle of the night, in the middle of the journey, they cross a stream and Jacob gets into a physical struggle with a stranger. The struggle is intense and the stranger is persistent but so is Jacob who will not give in nor will he let go. Of course, the struggle in the night is something with which we all are familiar, and we know that the stranger with whom we struggle is both God and a manifestation of our own soul. Of course we do not give up—neither do we give up our soul nor do we let go of God—and thus the struggle goes on and on, because neither does God let go. In the story, at daybreak, the struggle ends and Jacob is blessed by God for his faith. Jacob is blessed by God for not yielding his soul and for not letting go of God.

Letting go of God is the only true sin, and as we know, since God is love, that means that the only true sin is letting go of love. In Romans (8:35-39) Paul cries out “I am speaking the truth in Christ.” The only and utter truth in Christ is that Christ is the human manifestation of the love that is God. It is in Christ that we see and feel and hold and comfort and nurture and yes, struggle, not to let go of love. As we learned already, and keep learning over and over, nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ—this is the truth Paul cries out to all of us. God is love, and love is continuous.

In Matthew’s Gospel (14:13-21) we have this week the story of the feeding of more than 5,000 on the banks of the sea. Like the story about Jacob this story begins with movement–Jesus withdraws by boat, moving away, to “a deserted place by himself.” But the crowds follow him on foot. When he arrives he finds them gathered on the shore. He has compassion for them—he shows them love, his love heals. The story is familiar to all Christians—it grows late, the crowds are hungry, the disciples tell Jesus they have only five loaves of bread and two fish. Jesus orders the crowds to sit down—to be still so that they might know that they are in the presence of the love that is God. Jesus blesses the food with his love, gives thanks to God, and in a eucharistic action breaks the bread and gives it to the disciples who give it to the crowds. The bread and fish are abundant, every person in the crowd is fed and there is more left over. Abundance is the yield of compassion. Love is continuous.

The collect in the Book of Common Prayer for today begins “Let your continual mercy, O Lord, cleanse and defend your Church.” Continual mercy, a crucial description of the love we all are learning more and more each day to share. We are living in what the Book of Common Prayer elsewhere calls a “time of trial.” We really are. The love we all are sharing, more and more each day—never ending, reliable, trustworthy–this is God’s continual mercy, given to us in abundance now when we all need compassion more than ever. Mercy is that outpouring of love that soothes and heals all things.

LGBT people, whose families are more likely composed from love than from genetics, are more separated now, and therefore we are more reliant on each other for continual mercy. And God blesses us, especially in the all night struggles, with an abundance of love when, like Jacob, we not only do not give up but we hang on tenaciously to love.

 

Proper 13 Year A 2020 RCL  (Genesis 32:22-31; Psalm 17:1-7, 16; Romans 9: 1-5; Matthew 14:13-21)

©2020 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

A Tsunami of Mercy and Justice and Love

I have been having an IKEA moment. After moving to our new home it seemed we had been spending money like (as my dad used to say) it was going out of style, so when my husband pointed out that I was tripping over the armoire that I had lovingly selected in Philadelphia two decades ago I decided to replace it with a simple chest of drawers. IKEA won my bidding war because it had a piece the right size and shape and color and it was not only inexpensive but also on sale. So much for the easy way out though. Actually I enjoyed the first couple of hours of assembly, which went swimmingly and was even sort of fun. It reminded me of the 1980s when all of our furniture came from IKEA and had to be assembled, usually on Saturday night for some reason. Anyway, as I approached the final step of putting the top on, the entire structure crashed to the floor, and even worse, of course the particle board splintered where joiners had been secured. Woe was me, and more to the point I had a mess on my hands. I gave up, but then worried about it all night. First thing the next day I tried to put it back together, but it became clear the splintering was so bad it would never be stable without intervention.

Now, while I had been worrying through the night I had kept thinking that I knew what to do—I had to drill new holes and insert long heavy-duty screws to hold the frame together. But, like most people facing a problem, I tried every which way to get out of it. I called the famous help-line at IKEA. The first guy I spoke with said they would gladly replace the two wooden pieces that were messed up, then transferred me to someone who would ship them, but that call hung up on me. I called back three times, but IKEA’s phone system had my number (so to speak) and kept hanging up on me. I cruised through want ads online sure I had seen one some place recently for someone who would fix IKEA assembly problems, but no luck. Finally, facing a sprawling mess on the floor and the prospect that I had just thrown that money down the drain, I did what I should have done in the first place. I got my drill and my toolbox full of screws and some wood glue to boot, and in no time I had the piece assembled, standing up, sturdy and with its top in place. I kept thinking there was a lesson in there somewhere.

How often do we read the stories in the scripture literally, trying to imagine ourselves in the story, rather than comprehending them metaphorically? In Luke 16 Jesus tells a story about a corrupt “manager” (I’m pretty sure older translations called this person a “steward” but who would know what that meant today?) What do we know about corrupt managers? All I could think of was the episode of I Love Lucy where Ricky so wants to become the nightclub manager that he puts Lucy on a horrific schedule. Hilarity ensues, the schedule gets shredded and at the end everyone congratulates Ricky on becoming “Mr. Manager.”

But I digress. The key to this parable is the part, of course, where the manager forgives a large portion of everyone’s debt. It is, on the face of it, an act of love, and it works, not only presumably are the debtors happy but the boss is pleased because the manager, at last, has done the right thing—the thing he knew was right in the first place.

There is more. The act is more complex than we imagined, because the portion of the debt that was cancelled was the manager’s commission. Not only has he given back, but he has given back his portion. But what he has given is multiplied, isn’t it, in the hearts of those who have received not only mercy but justice. The manager, by doing not only what was right, but what he had known all along was right, has changed the situation by creating space for love to fill.

This is what Jesus means by “Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much.” The promise is that the eternity of living in love is guaranteed by the building up of love not in just one heart but in everyone’s hearts spreading through creation as the simple act of doing the right thing creates love through mercy and justice.

And that reminded me of marriage equality. Back in the days of my youth my gay coupled friends all said they didn’t need marriage, that that was something heterosexual people had created for themselves that gay people didn’t need. And straight society was just as firm in its conviction that marriage was not meant for us. Never mind the historical reality that marriage in its earliest times was not gender-oriented. Never mind that even the Old Testament has examples of same sex love. Never mind that everyone knew what was right all along, but ran all around proverbial barns trying to ignore it. But what did we learn when marriage equality became a cascading force? We learned that doing the right thing created space for mercy and justice. We learned that mercy and justice created space for love. We who are gay married people learned that marriage really does change everything because it binds two people and their families together in love. And binding love spreads through an ever more loving creation.

There you have it—from IKEA to the crafty manager to I Love Lucy to marriage equality. What have we learned? That doing the right thing is always the right thing to do; that being faithful in a very little is as powerful as being faithful in much; that giving a little bit of love can cascade into a tsunami of mercy and justice and love.

 

Proper 20 (Jeremiah 8:18-9:1; Psalm 79:1-9; 1 Timothy 2:1-7; Luke 16:1-13)

©2019 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

We rarely want to hear the truth*

I guess if you’ve been living through some of this year’s weather events, or last year’s, you’ll resonate with the idea that somehow something weird is going on. Let’s face it, global warming, which was a potential future about which we were warned, is here. It isn’t pleasant already, and this is just the beginning. Wait until we have whole months of temperatures over 100 with no rain ….

Well, we were warned, and we were well warned. And yet according to my newspaper some huge proportion of Americans still don’t believe it. Somehow, it seems people rarely want to hear the truth.

Maybe it’s just stubbornness. I mean, if I keep doing what I’ve always done, it ought to work eventually, right? Except, of course, if it never has been working. That isn’t going to change. Ergo, we don’t like to hear the truth, because it nearly always comes with a big dose of change.

So, why don’t we like to hear the truth? Because we don’t like change. That, I think, must be some sort of defense mechanism in our animal creation wherein we are programmed to do the same things over and over as second nature. Sort of like we get this “fight or flight” response that was useful when we needed to run from dinosaurs but turns out to be unhelpful when it comes up during office hours.

Yet, God always tells us the truth. God is always telling us the truth about our own reality in God’s own kingdom. As we read in Amos this week, God has set a plumb-line among God’s people …. Have you ever used a plumb-line? I have. It’s very useful, especially in determining exact level in carpentry. So I’m sure God also finds it very useful; if the plumb is swinging left to right it is scribing an arc along which God should expect to find all faithful people. Notice, I did not say all faithful people were stuck to the plumb; rather, I said they all should be along the arc it inscribes. That’s how God’s kingdom works of course, it takes everyone, each in a different spot, to create the balance that pulls it all together.

The Psalmist says this week (one of my favorite lines): “mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.” Wow. Mercy and truth meet, and righteousness and peace kiss …. Well, it means, where truth is told mercy can be plentiful, and in that union of the two, the openness to change produces a merging, a kiss, if you will, of peace which is the peace that passes all understanding in unity with God.

It means, “listen to God, who is telling you the truth, and be open to change” and in your mere openness, comes the kiss of peace with unity with God.

As the letter to the church at Ephesus reminds us, we all are the blameless children of God, destined for adoption, redeemed throught Christ, and lavished with the riches of God’s grace.

What can I say to my gay and lesbian brothers and sisters this week? We rarely want to hear the truth. We do not want to accept change. The church has begun to offer us marriage—are you getting married? Or are you clinging to the idea that “marriage is for straight people”? You should get married, to show how wrong an idea that is. I did. It changed my life forever. Marriage is different. And marriage is part of the riches of God’s grace. Take it, let it change you.

And so on, with lgbt equality everywhere and in every moment. Press for it, do not argue with straight people about it, because equality is your right as a child of God. And when it becomes available seize it.

God wants nothing less from you. Listen when God speaks to you.

*Proper 10 (Amos 7:7-15; Psalm 24; Ephesians 1:3-14; Mark 6:14-29)

©2012 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.