That Our Joy May Be Complete

The great message of Easter, indeed, the great message of Christianity, is that sin is forgiven for those who have faith in Christ.

To understand this requires multiple levels of comprehension, indeed, even dimensions of reality.

Sin, is disconnection, from God. The main way humans sin—disconnect from God—is to disconnect from each other. The opposite of sin is love. When we have love for one another—the love which is God—then we cannot be disconnected.

Today I heard a commentator on radio say that the problem in the world arises when both sides in a conflict are too hurt to stop hurting. In other words, so long as both sides are too hurt, they are so absent of love that they cannot see their way to a human realization of a way out.

Hurt is hurt; but let us remember the power of forgiveness. Forgiving is not forgetting, it is not forgoing justice, but it is the way to clear away the wall that prevents love. When that wall is raised there is no possibility of grace. The wall must be erased.

This is the essence of Christianity. Forgiveness is ours, by faith, by grace even, if only we can tear down those walls of sin that disconnect us.

Connection is God’s plan for creation. Not just connection, but synchrony, interconnection that is greater than the sum of its parts—otherwise known to us as “love builds up.” Connection, love, glory, blessing.

Both the epistle [1 John 1:1-2:2] and the Gospel reading [John 20:19-31] are from the author of John’s Gospel this week. The message is this: “what was from the beginning” “concerning the word of life,” that “our joy may be complete” when we walk in love. When we walk in love we understand that when sin occurs forgiveness is ours if we ask for it in faith. “Do not doubt but believe.”

Erasing the wall is the hard part. We who are created LGBTQ+  in God’s image learn to live with the powerful love in our souls even in the midst of oppression from all sides. We must erase the walls that separate us from each other—“Oh, how good and pleasant it is, when brethren live together in unity” [Psalm 133: 1]. If we can tear down those walls, we will see Christ among us and receive his peace.

2 Easter Year B 2024 RCL (Acts 4:32-35; Psalm 133 Ecce, quam bonum!; 1 John 1:1-2:2; John 20:19-31)

©2024 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Intersecting Dimensions of Love

It is interesting to ponder the intersection between the dimensions of the natural world and those of the soul. Of course, the soul inheres in us and we exist in the natural world. But do we inhere in the natural world, or do we only reside alongside it? In the Pacific Northwest now we are enjoying a few days of relatively cool weather, but the rain that was forecast never appeared. The trees are still stressed. Although the air smells clean and moist, we see another heat wave is coming in a few days and we wonder when we can look forward to our trademark rain. Even in Oregon, there usually is some rain in summer. If the trees are stressed, if the air seems thin with heat, are we stressed as well? Yes, of course we are. So, does the longing for rain inhere in our souls or in our minds or in both? And, where is the intersection between the dimensions of the soul and those of the natural world?

Psalm 130 is a lament of the soul longing for forgiveness “Out of the depths have I called to you … hear my voice … I wait …, my soul waits …, more than watchmen for the morning.” My immediate reaction was that at the moment we in the Pacific Northwest are watchpeople waiting less for morning than for rain. But you could say “I wait for rain, my soul waits for rain, more than watchpersons wait for the morning.” Thus, here we find a parallel between the dimension of the natural world and the dimension of the world of the soul. The truth of the dimension of the soul is that the forgiveness the lament awaits already has been given, the redemption, the salvation of unity with God already has been given. It is eternal. It is not that we wait for it so much as that we struggle to align our way of being with the dimension where salvation already exists. As Jesus says in all of the Gospels, the kingdom has come near. The question is can we get on the frequency of that dimension, can we learn to see the truth of our own salvation?

The letter to the Ephesians is clearly not written by Saint Paul, but is thought to embody his Gospel, as set in writing by one of his disciples. The essence of Paul’s Gospel is that we are intertwined by love. Again, it is about intersecting dimensions. Can we live in the dimension where love unites us with creation? In this week’s portion (Ephesians 4:25-5:2) we are given the tools we need to hone in on the dimension of God’s love: do not let the sun go down on anger; put away all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander and malice; be kind, tenderhearted, forgiving. This is how to live in love. This is how to occupy the dimension of God’s love. This is how to occupy the dimension of the soul. This is how the dimension of the soul intersects the dimension of the natural world. Love creates, love builds up, love is the source of all power.

I relish life in the dimension of the natural world, where, when I remember to dwell on the frequency of the dimension of love my soul melds with the natural world. Where my skin reflects the moisture in the air that I see in the trees. Where the flowering shrubs respond as quickly to the motion of the sun and the gentle breeze as does my heart. I am eternally grateful that the trajectory of the dimension of God’s love brought me back to this life in nature. I am even soothed by the new ways in which I see my sibling LGBTQ heirs of creation finding new forms of community, new ways to let our love shine as a light to lead the way to the dimension of living in the love which is ours in creation.

I give thanks for the mornings when the watch of God’s creation brings gentle peace to my soul in the intersection of the many dimensions of creation. I rejoice in the intersection of the dimensions of love.

Proper 14 Year B 2021 RCL (2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33; Psalm 130 De profundis; Ephesians 4:25-5:2; John 6:35, 41-51)

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

A Pillar of Forgiveness

We are living in a time rich with metaphor; my friends have no end of designators for the year we are all living through. I’ll spare you the specifics but let’s  just say it sure is a challenging time. A week ago we were living in a richly beautiful forested environment. Then we had two days of outrageous winds, accompanied by power outages. But at least we had brilliantly starry skies those nights. But the day after the wind died down we awoke to yellow skies, then yellow and black then thick smoke. We haven’t seen the sun or anything very far in front of us for days now. The wildfires ravaging forested Oregon have had an amazing impact on the whole of society (see for example https://www.statesmanjournal.com/story/news/2020/09/11/oregon-fires-riverside-beachie-creek-clackamas-county-estacada-molalla-colton/3472415001/ ). We are essentially “locked down” again; businesses that were slowly reopening are closed now so employees can stay safely home. We are encouraged not to drive, so as to keep roads clear for firefighters, emergency vehicles and (of course) thousands who are having to evacuate their homes. Curfews are in place at night. Our emotional state is pinned to a fire evacuation map, with its moving targets of “be-ready,” “be-set” and “go” zones.

Parks are closed to prevent accidental incineration. We aren’t to water the lawn or the garden so as to preserve water supplies for firefighting. Our COVID-19 masks turn out to be somewhat useful for filtering the smoke too—perhaps this is nature’s way of getting people to mask-up the better to control the pandemic. What an unsettling thought!

Our hearts go out to each other as yet once again in a year of constant wrenching shifts, everything shifts yet again. We retreat into our faith as best we can where we have one constant—God, who is love, who is centered in the heart. We pray that God’s love will protect us and preserve creation. We pray that God’s love will be shown, is being shown, to everyone around us—the firefighters on the front lines, many of whom have had to evacuate their own homes; the evacuees everywhere; people with underlying conditions that make the smoke content in the air a danger; and most of all, those of us who are frightened. We pray that God, who is love, will fill our centered hearts, the better for us to love in every direction in every moment. Love is always the answer, even in this time of more trial.

The Old Testament reading from Exodus today (Exodus 14:19-31) is the story of the parting of the Red Sea, the famous incident when Moses led the Israelites out of captivity in Egypt. They safely walked across the sea while God’s power and an “army of angels” held the water aside. They escaped oppression but arrived safely on the other shore to take up wandering in a wilderness. It is an amazing story, filled for sure with metaphors that fuel entire systems of faith.

I know from my own experience that LGBTQ people of faith often turn to this tale to help understand our own coming-out journeys. The parallels are unmistakable—the captivity of the closet, the oppression of self, the dispiriting loneliness of exile, the longing for belonging, the moment of truth, even the arrival of God’s army of angels lighting up the dark nights of the soul, the passage into the full embrace of LGBTQ life as God-given, all followed by wandering in the spiritual and emotional wilderness en route to new life. And yet as we all know, the metaphor extends grace and peace and especially hope, as we begin to discover the full possibility of lives of love lived in God’s love shared among God’s people created as LGBTQ in God’s own image. The meaning of the revelation is inescapable—God and God’s army of angels and God’s love all are ours when we embrace living and walking in love.

Curiously, I find myself drawn to a single clause that might otherwise go unnoticed Exodus 14:19-20): “the pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind them … and so the cloud was there with the darkness, and it lit up the night.” Of course, we can understand this metaphorically as descriptive of the time in which we live—everything from COVID-19 to racial reconciliation to political divisiveness to the wildfires—all are like the dark of night, and certainly in all we discern God’s army of angels–the firefighters on the front lines, many of whom have had to evacuate their own homes; the evacuees everywhere; people with underlying conditions for whom the smoke content in the air is a danger; and most of all, those of us who are frightened—everywhere we look we see God’s angels, and the love in their hearts does light up the night. After all, the cloud, which is God, and God’s army of angels, who are certainly among us, do indeed light up our lives. God’s love is in the immensity that lights up not just these nights but all nights of the soul.

Well, pillars and clouds aren’t the only metaphors in this week’s scripture. Psalm 114:7 “Tremble, O earth, at the presence of the Lord.” The power of love is such that the presence of God causes quaking. In Romans (14:1-12) Paul reminds us that “We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves … we are the Lord’s.” We do not live for ourselves; our lives are part of creation, we are part of the power of love. Our lives are intended to be full of the love of God, and it is our destiny to spread God’s love among us and through all of creation. It is important for we how are LGBTQ folk to remember that our lives are an important part of creation, instruments of love. Not only do we belong to God, we are part of God’s army of angels.

Matthew’s Gospel today is about forgiveness (Matthew 18:21-35). Forgiveness is the ultimate act of giving love after all, because it must come from your heart. God, who is love, is centered in the heart. True forgiveness is like the rain we all are praying for; it bears no price, its function is to clear the way for love to proceed in every direction from heart to heart, from God to God’s army of angels, holding back the sea, shining in the darkness, trembling at the immanence of God, making space for love. Even in a time of wrenching shifts, even in a time of fire, especially in a time of reconciliation.

We must forgive … the fire, the virus, the separation, the oppression, the exile, the loneliness, the fear … we must forgive all of it for the love to flow in and from and through us again. Indeed, that pillar of cloud born by God’s army of angels who open the way to love, is a pillar of forgiveness. We must forgive if we are to continue to receive God, who is love, who is always centered in our hearts.

 

Proper 19 Year A 2020 RCL (Exodus 14:19-31; Psalm 114; Romans 14:1-12; Matthew 18:21-35)

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

An organic whole*

Creation is an organic whole. I’m sure that comes as no surprise to anyone. I read this week that the ozone layer has begun to recover, more than two decades after we stopped using ozone-depleting chemicals. The Milwaukee paper today has a cover story about algae blooms in Lake Erie; they’re a problem in all of the Great Lakes, and problems in the lakes signal problems in the environment and presage problems in life all around those lakes, not to mention reverberations worldwide from changes in the socio-economics of the region. It’s a bit like chaos theory, which most of us learned about in Jurassic Park. Everything is connected.

If everything is connected then it follows that a disturbance in one place can lead to a domino-effect of disturbances along the line. This is the reasoning glbt liberators have used for decades to encourage coming out. People who do not come out harm themselves for sure, by not reaching personal fulfillment. But they also harm those around them, entering into relationships based on false pretenses, as well as bringing harm to the rest of us who are gay who are seen as somehow odd for having come out. When all glbt people stand up in society for just whom God has made us to be, there will be no room for oppression or suppression. Paul writes to the Romans (14:7) “We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves.” Paul’s focus in this passage is on unity with God, living into life with God. But lest we live fully into life with each other we cannot be one with God.

The other side of this coin, to mush a metaphor, comes in Matthew’s Gospel (18-21-35) where we hear Jesus repeatedly telling his disciples that they must forgive and forgive and forgive and then forgive some more and it must come from the heart. Without the opening to God created by the flow of love among people there can be no space for justice. Without forgiveness there can be no room for everything, which is interconnected, to thrive. Forgiveness must come from the heart and must flow among us, but of course, it does not mean we must be doormats.

Yes, there must be marriage equality. Yes, our families must be respected as such. To that end we must continue to stand up for ourselves. A former mentor used to say repeatedly that the most important thing gay people did in the church was to show up and be visible, as a witness to their faith among the whole congregation. So, yes, we also must find a way to forgive, and with forgiveness in our hearts continue to show up and be visible. Creation is an organic whole.

*Proper 19 (Exodus 14:19-31; Psalm 114; Romans 14:1-12; Matthew 18:21-35)

©2014 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.