From Triumph to Triumph of Love and Grace

Triumph takes many forms. We read this scripture for the Liturgy of the Palms [Mark 11:1-11]  about parades on donkeys through streets lined with followers. What about the hug you give your beloved every morning? Isn’t that, too, triumph? I think it is. In every moment in which you are able to love and be loved … hug your beloved; give your neighbors a plate of cookies; smile at the grocery cashier who took the trouble to smile at you … those are life’s triumphs. We are meant to treasure them.

Because it is God’s purpose in creation that we should live from triumph to triumph, from hug to hug, from cookies to smiles. And we are asked to give thanks as we go, because, as we see, love builds up.

We walk with Christ each day. We walk the way of creation, life is full of stumbles and steep cliffs and as we negotiate them, and survive them, and celebrate our triumphs with pure love, we are walking with Christ.

In the Liturgy of the Word for Palm Sunday [Mark 14:1-15:47] we walk the way of the cross. Have you ever wondered about the other people in this story, those with no names, or those we’ve never encountered before? There are bystanders and crowds and helpers all along the way. But in this story two things stand out for me, the young man following Jesus who ran away [Mark 14:51], and the women looking on from a distance … who used to follow Jesus [Mark 15:40 ff.]. I think this is where we are visible in the narrative of the way of the cross. These precious, loving people who are for whatever reason less than full members of society in their own day, these folks are made alive—literally healed—in the ministry of Jesus.

We who are God’s LGBTQ+ created people, we who populate that dimension in God’s multiverse, we are those people healed by his love. We are the fountain of love God has built up, from triumph to triumph, to provide the grace from which salvation springs.

Palm Sunday Year B RCL 2024 (The Liturgy of the Palms: Mark 11:1-11; Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29; The Liturgy of the Word: Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 31:9-16 In te, Domine, speravi; Philippians 2:5-11; Mark 14:1-15:47) ©2024 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Called to See

Every now and again it strikes me how much every day is the same, every week is the same, everything is the same. I wait for it to be evening then I wait for it to be morning then before I know it’s Sunday again. I joke (maybe joke?) with my husband that my entire life consists of making dinner—I plan it in the night, I check the pantry when I get up, I thaw things through the day, as soon as the sun is low in the sky I’m in the kitchen cooking, then we have dinner, then I go to bed and start all over. Time is passing, it seems, but then again maybe as Einstein said, it is just an illusion (https://www.thenakedscientists.com/forum/index.php?topic=82388.0 ). But, of course, the science of Einstein’s perception is that the passing of time depends on the frame of reference.

One way to look at it is to think about how we live in a certain dimension in which our synchrony with creation, a kind of harmony, is an eternal reality. In that there is grace, God’s love freely given in the absolute reality of life.

But then it occurs to me that how we tell our stories to ourselves defines the dimension in which we reside. Do I live in a dimension of dinner? Or do I live in a dimension of love and care, one in which my whole being is oriented to my husband’s, and to the things we share. The moments of togetherness, sharing, indeed loving, are the sunrises of the dimension in which we live. The sun sets and the moon rises and our love carries us. The harmony, the synchrony of the two of us in creation is our own dimension of love.

We all are called to tell—to prophesy if you will—about the dimensions of love we create and inhabit. It is their cumulative overlapping stew that is the eternal dimension of God’s love.

Isaiah (theologians will call this “Second Isaiah” Isaiah 49:2ff.) said “[God] called me before I was born … made my mouth like a sharp sword … made me a polished arrow” and (49:6) “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” The Psalmist (40:10-11) “proclaimed righteousness … did not restrain my lips … I have spoken of your faithfulness and your deliverance, I have not concealed your love.” Paul wrote to the church at Corinth (1 Corinthians 1: 9) “God is faithful, by [God] you were called into the fellowship of … Jesus Christ.” John the Baptist (John 1:34) “I myself have seen and testified.”

As I have written and preached many times, we who are seeking to comprehend how God calls us often don’t realize that we already are living the lives to which we have been called. We have been called to be God’s LGBTQ people, God created us LGBT&Q in God’s own image so we might be a light to the nations. We have been called to lead our LGBTQ lives in the light, as a witness to God’s faithfulness to us. We have been called to proclaim our pride in our God-given LGBTQ lives as a way of pointing to the highway of love into the dimension we create by living in and through our love.

There is a reason Jesus said (John 1:39), simply “Come, and see.”

2 Epiphany Year A 2023 (Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-12 Expectans, expectavi; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42)

©2023 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Love Propagated

What comes to me today is Julian of Norwich: All shall be well, all shall be well, all manner of thing shall be well.

It is the first Sunday of the Epiphany, Christmas is past, the New Year has begun, even Congress has calmed down however briefly. The weather is typical for Oregon, some rain now and again, moderate temperatures. According to Farmer’s Almanac the brutally cold December of ice and freezing was the coldest part of this Oregon winter (I hope they’re right; they usually are somehow).

God’s prophecy in Isaiah 42 is that “former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare.” The Psalmist sings (29) “God shall give strength to God’s people, God shall give God’s people the blessing of peace.” Peter proclaims (Acts 10) “God shows no partiality,” … and especially that “we are witnesses.” At Jesus’ baptism by John in the Jordan river (Matthew 3) “the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

The reality of the dimension of love into which God called us in our own creation, in God’s own LGBTQ image, is that all things always are being made new, that God shows no partiality, that we who are God’s LGBTQ heirs are witnesses to this constant renewal that God’s love, created in us so that it might be propagated through us in the love we share, makes the single constant in the dimension of love.

All shall be well, all shall be well, all manner of thing shall be well.

1 Epiphany Year A 2023 RCL “The Baptism of Our Lord” (Isaiah 42:1-9; Psalm 29; Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17)

©2023 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

The Earth is Full of the Knowledge of Love

Prophets are god’s messengers. This week I met a prophet, a young man who was good to me in a difficult situation … no preaching, just a smile and understanding for a gay elder … it was a perfect example of how God’s prophets are always everywhere among us, showing us the way. The form of repentance they bring is the reminder of what a difference a little smile can make. The way of salvation is the door into the dimension of love where the little smiles reign.

We are learning more and more from the heritage of our indigenous neighbors. I learned this week about how, for the Yurok people, condors “carry prayer to the heavens and across the world” (https://www.npr.org/2022/11/30/1139971256/the-yurok-tribe-leads-conservation-efforts-to-reintroduce-the-california-condor ).

This week’s Old Testament prophecy, then, from Isaiah (11:1-10), tells how a “shoot shall come out from the stump.” I have been nursing an avocado tree for a couple of years now, I grew it from a seed, I have been trying this for years and never succeeded until now, but then given the vagaries of life I let it grow too tall and thin so that the tiny trunk could not support the few leaves at the top. I said a little prayer and cut it off near the “stump.” I held my breath for about two months until at last a shoot came out from the stump, and now, about 3 months later, I have a nicely variegated tree with lots of strong branches and leaves. Prophecy here is yet again about how God shows us in these simple and everyday life ways where to find the doors into the dimension of love. Something as simple as tending a tree has the power of the knowledge of God, of the growth of righteousness and faithfulness, “a signal to the peoples,” a prayer carried to the heavens and across the world.

Stewardship of this life, then, is the obligation to render prosperity in the tending of creation. Righteousness inheres in the right harmony with creation (Psalm 72:1-8).

Hope is that spiritual sense of justice and righteousness and the certain knowledge that not only is God with us but we also are with God (Romans 15:4-13). Hope fills us with joy and peace in our believing, which is our harmony with creation, with God and with each other, and that is another sign of the door to the dimension of salvation.

To repent is just to think again, to pay attention, to not just respond to the smile but to let it change your life (Matthew 3:1-12). Years ago in Philadelphia I knew a guy (our regular Saturday night waiter for almost 25 years!) and he was one of God’s prophets too. I remember how he always seemed frightened about the idea of Advent. Having been raised in the Roman tradition he remembered only that the Advent readings seemed to be always about horrors to come. He was good to me, an Episcopal priest, and he had a desire to be connected to his faith, which he managed to work out through our casual conversations. And he was a prophet in many ways, but in this one thing is where I really see it now, that like so many LGBTQ people he had been mistreated at the hands of seemingly religious people who were ill informed about the true faith. Not unlike the Pharisees and Sadducees in today’s Gospel reading who are scolded by John the Baptizer.

I don’t know whether I ever managed to convince my friend that these readings were not about a future, but rather aboutthe present reality in our own hearts. But he had already, long ago, successfully navigated his way into the dimension of love.

What else can I say? Repent? Yes, of course, always rethink, and always ask forgiveness when you fail to act in a loving way, and do not let your heart be darkened by oppressive thoughts.

The earth will be full of the knowledge of the love of God as the waters cover the sea, and the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal of how creation grows God’s love.

2 Advent Year A 2022 RCL (Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19 Deus, judicium; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12)

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

Belonging in the Garden

I’m not sure when the last time was that I was so glad for a dreary day but I really am, trust me. I am sure I am incredibly grateful that daylight savings time is over and I can go back to sleeping on the earth’s schedule. Hallelujah! I’m also grateful for the current atmospheric river (weather people have such fun names now, when I was a boy we called it “rain”), which has been greening my lawn and thinning out the autumn leaves for a few days now. Yesterday I pulled out my tomatoes and peppers, harvesting any late season fruit to ripen indoors. So, now I can put away the tomato cages and the fences that keep critters out of my vegetable garden. Tomorrow, when it stops raining, I will make a trip around the flower gardens clipping any buds (there are buds on all the roses and the dahlias), which I will hope will bloom indoors. It’s going to freeze tomorrow night or the next night, and then that will be that for the gardens (except for the arugula, thank goodness, which is just delighted at the cold and dark and rain).

I have gardened one way or another all of my life, but I don’t think I have been this close to nature since I was a kid living in Hawaii, where like Oregon, nature is essentially inescapable. I love the rhythm of it, and I love the fascination of the flowers and fruits. We have a fig tree at the end of the driveway and I tug off a bowl of them every few days; they’re terrific. I feel like I’m getting away with something eating food I didn’t haul home for $60 from a store!

So there is something, some sort of message from creation, in that feeling. It is almost like a sort of secret plot—”water us and clear the weeds and feed us once in awhile and we’ll delight you for months”—something like that.

There also is some sort of hidden gay thing in it too. Again, I can’t really put a finger on it, as it were. I remember when I first had my own house in Urbana, Illinois; I would be out planting around and it guys riding by on bikes would stop and chat me up. I’m sure they all were avid gardeners. Later, in Philadelphia, I actually met most of my gay friends by admiring their work in little pocket gardens on corners here and there in the Spruce Hill neighborhood where we first lived, and some of them would drop by and help me get accustomed to the soil and hills and the felonious fellow citizens who would steal plants unless you wired the roots to cinder blocks before planting them.

Community emerged from this shared experience of creation, and I think it made us all feel like we belonged in a way being gay men didn’t usually make us feel socially. Of course this all was happening in the beginning of the AIDS pandemic when we had to learn new ways of socializing. So I guess it makes sense that one of the delights of the COVID-19 pandemic has been the growth of social media groups like “bears in the garden” and “gay gardeners” and the newer “bears in the kitchen” where a cross section of gay men check in daily for support and advice and, of course, those much-sought “likes.” Back in July I broke the soufflé dish I hadn’t used in years—my husband had given it to me when we first were together four decades ago because he “always wanted a boyfriend who made soufflés.” Embarrassed, I bought a new one, and promptly made a cheese soufflé for dinner, and posted the pictures. I was humbled at the loving supportive response.

So where am I going with all this? Rain, time, winter, gardens, cooking, yes. But also, social acceptance, social support, belonging—all active forms of loving, all examples of walking in love, and still more so examples of healing, the sort of healing Jesus brought wherever he went. He helped people shift their reality into the dimension of love, which in turn brought them back to belonging, which in turn allowed them to walk in love. We see this formula over and over in his parables—person(s), problem, resolution, healing, thanksgiving, or, belonging as the shift into the dimension of love.

In today’s scripture Haggai prophesies (1:15b-2:9) that God’s spirit always remains among us, which is after all the spirit of belonging made manifest in the splendor of creation. Paul writes to the Thessalonians (2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17) to remind them that they were chosen by God to be “the first fruits for salvation” which they receive by shifting into the dimension of Christ through “the proclamation of the good news.” In Luke (20:27-38) Jesus answers satirical questions about marriage and resurrection by reminding the crowd that those who have found the dimension of love have eternal life, belonging “like angels and … children of God, being children of the resurrection.” God is “[God] of the living; for to [God] all of them are alive.”

PostScript

For readers who are citizens of the United States, Tuesday is election day. If you haven’t voted yet, please remember to do so on Tuesday. Please remember that voting is the most essential act of love we can perform as citizens of God.

Proper 27 Year C 2022 RCL (Haggai 1:15b-2:9; Psalm 145:1-5, 18-22; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17; Luke 20:27-38)

©2022 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Replenishing Love

There was a spectacular show outside my window last night, first the almost still full moon rose over the Douglas firs and moved across the sky, fairly rapidly, and then just as it was disappearing behind another stand of trees Jupiter emerged as though giving chase, and it moved across the sky … good thing I wasn’t asleep yet!

Nature is all around us here in Oregon, there is no escaping its beauty, majesty, magnificence, and yet also there is no escaping our interlocking responsibility for it. The trees and mountains and rivers are, indeed, beautiful, but they also are much more than backdrop to human life. We live among them, we coexist with them, we have responsibility for them as well as for our own selves. It is a real and constant opportunity to experience the Gospel of love in a way that reminds us that it is about much more than just warm feelings. The Gospel of love, the Good News of God in Christ Jesus, is the call to constant faith.

Not that we don’t have daily tests of our faith, just look at the news (or maybe don’t, look at the trees instead ….). I keep writing here that it is a constant challenge to remind ourselves that walking in love is not just about reacting to events around us. Rather, it is about the challenge to remain in a state of grace, a semblance of the beginning of love in our hearts at all moments, so that there always is the opportunity for that love to build up.

Love is faith and faith is love and faith and love must be steadfast. In Hebrews 11:20-40 Paul recounts the history of faith as revealed in the Old Testament texts. But he concludes in 12:1 that we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses. Not only those who walked in love but those in the present who do as well, especially those among us who walk in love, steadfast in faith. We are to follow their example of the love that builds up, thus we are to “lay aside every weight and sin that clings so closely” and “run with perseverance the race that is set before us.” Words for all people in all times, for sure.

In Luke 12:49-56 Jesus has harsh words for almost everybody, including that he “came to bring fire;” he means he has come to see the flame of love kindled and the detritus of the absence of love swept away like underbrush. The fire Jesus wants to kindle is the fire of raging building love (a purification, a new beginning). It requires work and constant attention.

He ends by cajoling the crowd for their hypocrisy, and asking “why do you not know how to interpret the present time?” It is critically important in this instance to remember that these are Jesus’ words to the crowd in front of him. He is not asking us to interpret the daily news in 2022 as full of omens. Rather, he is excoriating the crowd to understand that it is his presence, his call, his challenge, his epiphany, his baptism and his death and resurrection that are there for them to see. Jesus means their hearts must be open to the new dimension of love, into which he has come to usher humanity.

Of course, scripture is for all time, that is its purpose. Of course, for us the present time is now, but what Jesus means is that the the time for experiencing Jesus’ love is always, in every moment. Jesus calls us to experience the replenishing cleansing fire he brings into our hearts because it is this that opens the way to the new dimension. He means, the time to turn to love always is now.

We are who God’s LGBTQ creation are especially privileged to be called to share the love that defines our identities. We must keep love foremost at the center of our being. We are guides into the dimension of love. The love we share can be the love that cleanses the underbrush, the love that builds up, the love that lights the way.

Proper 15 Year C 2022 RCL (Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 80:1-2,8-18; Hebrews 11:29-12:2; Luke 12:49-56)

©2022 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Synergy Glory

It is cool and raining in Oregon, although today is dry and sunny. There has been enough rain now to give us the chance to relax a bit about wildfire danger. We’re even allowed to use our fireplaces again, which is nice now that cool evenings are more commonplace. Relief has always been my favorite form of mercy. Relief—just the knowledge that I can relax a little bit—is a reflection of the synergy of creation, which of course is the synergy of the love that is God. Mercy, after all, is that quality of forgiveness that makes life possible because it allows us to keep going.

Still, life comes and goes. God is not a puppeteer. Rather we are gifted with the opportunity to walk in love in harmony with creation. When we manage that even our mistakes are greeted with mercy. When we fail to walk in love in harmony with creation then we encounter challenging times. In those times it does no good to decry love. Rather, we must love even more in those times. We must always remember that love builds up.

We can build love in simple ways, by singing with joy, by worshipping love by whipping up love. These are the ways we can encounter glory—the sustained abundance of the present manifestation of love. We must always at least try to live a life of love. As long as we try, we are grounded in the presence of God.

We do not see love subjectively. Rather we see love embodied in Jesus who taught us the ways of walking in love, simple ways: washing each other’s feet, eating together, feeding the oppressed, healing the outcast by welcoming them in. These are the ways of building up the love of God in synergy with community and creation. These are the ways of grounding the presence of God. These are the ways of seeking glory, which is the armor of love.

Hardness of heart is imperviousness to love. If you cannot walk in love it is easy enough to give one’s self over to rules: no chocolate, no dessert. Then, it is easy enough to make other rules: no outsiders, no one who is different. Hardness of heart builds up too. No love remains then, only obeisance.

The antidote always is love, always is the realization that these are the “last days” in our hearts. In every moment we have the opportunity to build love to energize the community to synergize creation. All we have to do is start. All we have to do is try.

The echoes of life for LGBTQ people are like trajectories all through this midrash. Relief comes when we can relax into our daily lives, when we can think about dinner and the garden instead of worrying about survival. We have our ups and downs. We have many opportunities to sing and share the joy in our hearts. We are called to share food and drink, to welcome each other, to build community. We are called forth from our love as children created by God in God’s own image of love. We are called forth to shine like a beacon in the synergy of these last days of building up love. We are called to embrace and nurture glory.

Proper 22 Year B 2012 RCL (Job 1:1; 2:1-10; Psalm 26; Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12; Mark 10:2-16)

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

Love’s Perfect Circle

It seems we are all having an “interesting year.” I guess, at least, it so far isn’t as interesting as 2020 was and for that we can give thanks. We seem to reel from climate crisis to climate crisis. How can a hurricane that makes landfall in New Orleans do more damage in New York City days later? But it does. Human resistance to change necessary for survival is a problem as old as the human species, older no doubt. All around us people are suffering from a pandemic that has raged now for much too long. Continued suffering all around creates a complex backdrop for a new kind of normalcy of isolation. Like people of centuries past we now live in our homes and rely on our own resources for social interaction among those in our “pods,” we create our own meals and some of us even grow our own food. All because the virus is too dangerous to defy. There is a duality to the suffering too, because at once we see the needless suffering of people dying from a virus they did not need to contract and at the same time a society reeling (there’s that word again) from the muck of a pandemic economy adjusting by fits and starts to supply chain interruptions and continued shifts in the social fabric as we seek new ways to work around a deadly threat. All of this taking place with the knowledge—shake heads here—that there is a solution, a vaccine, if only everyone would get it the virus would have no place to hide. If only our space age society could shift away from carbon emissions maybe climate crises could abate or at least slow down their relentless drumbeat.

Yesterday I went out in the car to run a simple errand. It was a crisp late summer day, warm and sunny, clear blue skies. Music on the radio was programmed especially for the anniversary of September 11, 2001. Ironically the weather was a perfect match for that same morning. I was in Philadelphia then, not so far from the epicenter of the tragedy and it was a similarly stunningly beautiful day. As I drove along yesterday my favorite radio station queued up the Duruflé Requiem (Maurice Duruflé, Requiem, op. 9 (1947)). I was enraptured at once. I turned up the volume again and again as I drove. I began to shiver and tear up as the music proceeded along its emotionally bittersweet trajectory. As the Sanctus reached a climactic point I came around a corner and there was one of those only in Oregon moments—right in front of me square in the center of my field of vision was Mount Hood, majestic and blessed. I gasped, as I often do at the sight of it. As the music proceeded and I drove along, now on quiet residential streets, my soul devolved into a reverie about the first time I ever heard this Requiem, during the second year of the AIDS pandemic, that other life-changing, earth-shattering crisis that my generation lived through. The full effect of those days flooded into my memory, not just my friends who vanished into thin air, the friends of friends who came to dinner one night and died a week later, but also eventually the too-many-to-count patients with AIDS who were my congregation as a hospital chaplain. I walked among them and held their hands and prayed with them and their loved-ones. Of course, it was the gay chaplain who was the only one willing to go into the ward where they were at that time warehoused. In paradisum indeed. I remember preaching on World AIDS Day that year that it gave new meaning to the phrase in the Te deum laudamus “the white robed army of martyrs praise you!” (Canticle 21 Book of Common Prayer) as I envisioned my beloved gaggle in their hospital gowns. It was another time when needless suffering nearly overwhelmed us and forced changes that would have been unimaginable beforehand.

Oh well. It is true, if maybe too easy, that times of challenge strengthen us, that love is a perfect circle always building up and surrounding us, especially in times of need. Our love comes from God’s love, which is the eternal nourishment we receive along with the power to sustain it from the building up of our love. It is in this that we see how love must be the “rule,” the “measure,” the “directions.”

God’s love cries out everywhere we look. The guy at the car wash smiles at me as he directs me in and the smile eases my day, the fish monger looks me in the eye and asks how I’ve been, the majesty of the mountains are there when you need a glimpse of God. God’s love—wisdom as it is called in Proverbs (1:20-33)—cries out “in the street, in the square … at the busiest corner.” We don’t always notice. We are too easily turned inward when what God needs of us is to be always focused outward building up love. James (3:1) reminds us that we must resist the urge to think of ourselves as teachers, insisting on our way instead of walking in God’s love. Instead we are called to focus on the impact of what we do, on the reflections of our words in the faces around us.

God’s love is timeless and eternal. The universe of creation is the product of the power of love. Creation is timeless and eternal because creation is the product of love. Time does not exist (Psalm 19:2) “one day tells its tale to another, and one night imparts knowledge to another.” All time is just the continuum of love, another sign of love’s perfect circle.

The power of the message of the Messiah (Mark 8:29) is that the Messiah is the king of the end times. We need to learn that the end times are not some day in the future, but rather times that occur each moment in our hearts. Now is the end time if you cut yourself off from the power of love. Now is the end time if you insist on your own way. The king, the Messiah, is here to teach us how to walk in love.

Yes, it is a cross to bear, because we can only accomplish perfect love clumsily, in action, by becoming completely vulnerable, by constantly trying, by completing that perfect circle. And love is especially ours as God’s LGBTQ heirs, created in God’s own image, eternally by God’s love, as people whose identity is love.

Proper 19 Year B 2021 RCL (Proverbs 1:20-33; Psalm 19; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38)

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

Theophany of Love

I am blessed to live in one of the most beautiful corners of creation. In fact, I consider myself doubly blessed because, having lived in Oregon as a college student many moons ago and then headed off to points east to make my way in the world, I have been called back to this magnificent cathedral of sky and forest and mountain and sea and powerful river. A favorite meditation pastime for me has become “what called me back,” and “why am I here again now?” There are, as you might guess, many answers to those questions. But I keep coming back over and over to the deep comprehension that there is holiness in the beauty of this creation. This very holiness moves my soul to deep expression of love. Indeed, all of my life I have had the charism of responding physically to the revelation of great beauty. Anything of immense beauty—from the chords of mighty music to the blood-red sunset on the Aegean to the vast fields of tulips in The Netherlands to the smiles from the hearts of those I love—any manifestation of beauty produces in me a dual physical and spiritual response of the outpouring of love from my soul. While it is entertaining to regale friends (and readers) with stories of having to pull over to the side of the road when I am reduced to tears of joy at the vision of Mount Hood, there is at the same time a powerful explanation. As a priest I am called to lift up holiness as both an offering and a sacrifice. It is crystal clear to me that this life I now lead in this splendiferous environment is intended to plug my soul into the Holy Spirit the better to allow me to serve as a conduit for love. The more love I experience the more love I can give, the more love I can give the more love there is in creation, the more love there is in creation the more love all of us can tune into for healing, and (of course) for love.

Part of the job of the calling to spiritual leadership is the job of discerning the presence of holiness in the mundane all around us. Like most people I experience this in the very simplest expressions of love—a grin, a sneeze, the flick of a wrist, a facial expression—all of those things that are the electricity of love between people. I know when I see a smile on the face of my beloved that God is with us.

I find it in nature too, of course, as I often convey in this blog. Sitting here writing this listening to music I have to chuckle at the way the sun keeps breaking through the cloudy gray skies each time my heart begins to sing. This is no accident, this is the revelation of God’s presence, which is always with us but which, unfortunately we too often forget to realize. It is only when we remember to walk in the dimension of love that we can see clearly that we are in the presence of holiness. It is exactly when we remember to walk in the dimension of love that we know we are in the presence of God, especially when we bask in a loved one’s smile.

Theophany is the theological term for the manifestation of the divine in human cognition. The word means roughly “the appearance of God” and it is a wonderful description of the surprise we encounter when we experience holiness. The surprise at the appearance is the wonderfully tender chuckle of the Holy Spirit at the simple beauty of the moment when any one of us remembers to walk in the dimension of love and “bingo” there is our theophany, there is a glimpse of sunlight in our hearts.

In Exodus (33:12-23) we see Moses bargaining yet again with God. God makes two promises, first that “my presence will go with you and I will give you rest” and then that “I will make all my goodness pass before you” and that, indeed, as Moses will see the retreating presence of God so will all of God’s faithful people know mercy and grace.

In 1 Thessalonians (1:1-10) Paul sums up what it means to respond to holiness by walking in the dimension of love. It is to give love as the very work of faith, it is to grow and expand the giving of love as the blessed labor of faith, and it is to be steadfast in hope. To be steadfast in hope is to be secure in the knowledge of love given and received and grown and expanded. To be steadfast in hope is to know in your heart the power of those simple grins and sneezes that are the signs of the presence of God’s love within and among us always.

What does it mean to see God? How can we see God? We can see God when we see glory pass across the smiling face of another. We can be steadfast in hope when we understand that it is in and through each of us that holiness becomes theophany in the simple expression of love.

In Matthew’s Gospel (22:15-22) Jesus tussles with his adversaries about what seems to be a coin for paying a tax to the emperor: “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” In reality the challenge is to understand the power of temptation to draw us from the holiness of love. It is easy enough to become ensnared in the embrace of irrelevancies that seem too real, when the reality is in the giving of love, the reality for us must always be found walking in the dimension of love.

God gives us love, God asks us to walk in love and this is God’s due that we not only see the presence of God in and among us but that we maintain the realization of holiness by the constant giving of love. We give God God’s due when we look into the hearts of all of the children of God where we will, indeed, see God’s face.

So then where is theophany for LGBTQ people? In our hearts of course. We especially are called to the realization of the presence of God in and among us and in the love we share. We especially, who are created by God in God’s own image as people of love, are called to remember to walk in love.

LOL, the sun just came out again.

Proper 24 Year A 2020 RCL (Exodus 33:12-23; Psalm 99; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 22:15-22)

©2020 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.