Supper At Emmaus- 3rd Sunday of Easter April 26, 2020

A Poem/reflection for 3^rd Easter                            St. Andrew's By-The-Sea, Nags Head, N.C.

April 26, 2020                                                        Thomas E. Wilson, Supply Clergy

Supper At Emmaus

             Michelangelo Caravaggio: Supper at Emmaus   1601    National Gallery,  London

One of these days when I get rich and famous doing this Supply Clergy shtick, I am going to London and stand in front of this painting, Supper At Emmaus 1601, in the National Gallery. The painting is by the Italian artist Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio. He lived from 1571- 1610 and was one of the formers of the Baroque style of art, which reveled in creating and capturing a moment of dramatic movement with bright exciting colors and deep shadows. Before that time most of the painting were studies in beauty and form. Think of the masterpiece, Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, she is so beautiful and yet so still, her stillness draws you in to her eyes while the background is forgettable. In the Baroque period, a time of great change in the world, there is an interest in looking at moments when there is change. 

I first was introduced to Caravaggio’s work when I was on sabbatical in Italy, following the footsteps of Francis of Assisi. There are three of his paintings in the Contarelli Chapel of the San Luigi dei Francesi Church in Rome. It is a small little chapel devoted to the theme of the disciple, St. Matthew’s ministry. 

The first painting is the Calling of Matthew, painted a year before, between 1599-1600, showing Matthew at the tax collector’s stand with Jesus pointing at him to call him to follow him. Matthew has this “Who me?” look on his face, while the other men around the table go about their business. They are focused in on the money on the table. The outside light coming into a Chapel window shines on the face of Jesus and Caravaggio’s use of color and shadow highlights the energy of this moment in time. I was so moved I bought a print of the painting, and when I got back to the states, framed it. I see it every day to remind me of my own calling, echoing Matthew’s thought, “Who me?”  However, the call from Jesus is not just for people who dress funny on Sundays, but for all people, all of us, to follow him. Just for a moment, look at the Matthew deeply and place yourself in Matthew’s place. Do you ask yourself, “Who me?” Look at the people around Matthew? Are you there?That is what Caravaggio is trying to do with this paining; to take you into the question.

Caravaggio was capturing moments of spiritual discovery in that painting as if he were painting with lightning and the characters are jumping off the canvas.

In this painting for today, we are looking at Caravaggio’s, Supper at Emmaus, and it has that same energy, an abundance of spiritual energy. We have the waiter at the Inn in Emmaus who is going about his business and not seeing anything to pay attention to. There is Jesus at the center of the table, overflowing with food, wine, chicken, fruit and bread! However, this is not the bearded 30+ year-old prophet who had been beaten and crucified, but a youthful, sensitive man who is beginning a new life. No wonder the disciples did not recognize him. Jesus, as in the Matthew’s Calling painting, has his arms stretched out in blessing and calling forth the presence of the Spirit of God in these two disciples. But, not only the disciples, but also to us who are watching this scene. We are being blessed and made into the body of Christ to feed the hunger of the world for healing, justice, and peace. The two disciples are beaten down figures who have holes in their dirty clothes, yet they suddenly come alive. One disciple is almost jumping out of his chair in order to get away from that which both fascinates and frightens him. The other disciple opens his arms in amazement, making himself vulnerable to a relationship of love in Christ. The outstretched arms of that disciple are also as if he were accepting the cross of Christ, to give up his life for the bringing in of God’s kingdom.

In your imagination, go back and look at that painting and please place yourself in the picture. How would it be if it were you who was one of the people who meet the Risen Christ and suddenly see him in the “Breaking of the Bread” How would it change how you receive the bread?

Supper At Emmaus 1606        Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan

Caravaggio painted another Supper At Emmaus in 1606, six to seven years later in Caravaggio’s tumultuous life. It was painted during the time when he had to flee Rome and go into hiding because of that very tumultuous life. That painting now hangs in Milan. I have only seen pictures of it, but it lacks the energy. It is as if he is thinking about it and it becomes an illustration of a long-ago event rather than an evocation of a fire of decision in faith. Jesus, instead of the young man with a new life ahead of him, is almost the standard picture we see of the tired bearded middle age man. The overabundance of the feast is gone, and only bread and wine are available. Everybody is silent and well behaved; almost a solemn church moment rather than full of new life. Does that happen to us at the Breaking of the Bread when we come together? Where are you in this picture?

In the story that Luke relates in the Gospel lesson for today, the disciples have walked and talked with Jesus. They enjoyed spending the time in fellowship, talking about the past with a stranger while they are longing for a distraction from their own mourning and confusion. They looked forward to a meal of distraction and invited the stranger to join them. Yet Jesus calls them back to an awareness that their ministry as disciples is not over because of the death of Jesus; rather it is only the beginning for them as apostles of the Risen Lord.

I think of why we have churches. Is it to remember the past of Jesus and his ministry? Or, is the reason we come together in person, or virtually as we are doing now, the remembering so that we might become apostles of the Risen Lord to bless and change the world for God’s dream?

Supper At Emmaus

Table seating for the Emmaus supper

is happening right now in an anyplace

where we take the time to see His face

in any person or class; lower or upper.

He's here; opening himself to our glance,

sharing his past, as prelude to his dreams,

of a new future, for him, and us, it seems,

less out of hand, as if we had a chance.

We’ve remembered him, that one time

before, we were afraid that he'd us ask

to follow, giving up ourselves as a task,

of a vocation, rather than just a pastime.

The supper is not about changing bread,

but of us, His people, for the road ahead.

Thomas After Easter

Poem/ Reflection for 2^nd Easter     St. Andrew's By The Sea Church, Nags Head, N.C.

April 19, 2020         Thomas E. Wilson, Supply Clergy

Acts 2:14a,22-32       John 20:19-31        Psalm 16

Thomas After Easter

The Gospel Lesson for today is from the Gospel of John. Biblical Scholar, Raymond Brown, posits that the Gospel of John and the Epistles of John come out of a “Community of the Beloved Disciple”, a community which was formed around the unnamed character found in the Gospel as the “One who Jesus loved”. That community for the 60 years after the death of Jesus had to deal with the questions: “Who was this man Jesus?”, “How was God living in him and his followers?” and “How to believe, have faith, that the spirit of the Risen Christ is still alive and working in our lives?”. The Gospel of John and the Epistles are attempts to answer these questions. Indeed those are the questions that you and I still struggle with 2000 years later. It is a struggle filled with doubts; doubts that are part of the journey into faith.

Frederick Buechner in his Wishful Thinking defined Faith: “Faith is better understood as a verb than as a noun, as a process than as a possession. It is on-again-off-again rather than once-and-for-all. Faith is not being sure where you're going, but going anyway. A journey without maps. Paul Tillich said doubt isn't the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith.”

Dante's Divine Comedy begins with his being in, what he and other 14^th Century writers called, the “middle of his life”, 35 years old. It was a mess of a mid-life crisis; cut off from his friends, heartsick, disappointed in his political, social and love life, wandering in a forest, a metaphor for being separated from God, filled with doubt. He has to enter Hell, Inferno, the place where God seems so far away, to get eventually to faith. Like all spiritual journeys; we begin by becoming deeply aware that God seems so far away. In this journey, Dante is led part of the way by the shade of the Roman Poet Virgil, the symbol of all we can really know in our head, our reasoning. But our reasoning, like Virgil, can only take us so far and in the Divine Comedy, Virgil (Human Wisdom) is left behind as a guide to be replaced by Beatrice the symbol of Divine Grace.

Author Anne Lamott, in her Plan B: Further Thoughts On Faith, starts off her book with "On my forty-ninth birthday, I decided that all of life was hopeless, and I would eat myself to death." She is dealing with getting older, having reached what the 20^th century psychologists call “midlife”, with her son becoming a teenager, her parents getting weaker and older. She continues, “The opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty. Certainty is missing the point entirely. Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns. Faith also means reaching deeply within, for the sense one was born with, the sense, for example, to go for a walk.”

In this Gospel story from the Community of the Beloved Disciple, Thomas is, as well as we are, asked to go deeply within and let our sense we were born with take a walk. Thomas, in the story, takes a week or so to send his sense to take a walk. He shows up at the locked meeting room not at all sure that there will be Jesus there. He is not sure the other disciples were not having a schizophrenic attack, but he shows up anyway. He shows up and has a break with reality as he has known it up to then. Thomas is given a gift of Grace.

Singer/ Songwriter John Prine, who was my age, died last week. In mourning I listened to a couple recordings. One, was his cover of the Bonnie Raitt song, Angel From Montgomery. An “Angel from Montgomery” is a term used by Prisoners on Death Row in Alabama. for a last minute reprieve from a death sentence sent from the Governor's office in Montgomery, Alabama. The chorus goes:

Make me an angel
That flies from Montgomery
Make me a poster
Of an old rodeo
Just give me one thing
That I can hold on to
To believe in this livin'
Is just a hard way to go

Raitt, and Prine, were right; “this living is just a hard way to go.” The last several months have been harder than usual. In November of 2019 a US Intelligence report warned “a contagion is sweeping through China’s Wuhan region, changing the patterns of life and business and posing a threat to the population". It was a warning that was greeted first with doubt and denial, for nobody wanted their patterns of life to be changed. We continued on our way by gathering for Thanksgiving, shopping for Christmas, celebrating New Year's Eve, going to school, attending church services, Bible studies and Christmas pageants, having lots of meetings, planning for the Bishop's visit which was scheduled for today, or the Acolyte Festival scheduled for this coming weekend, and eating together at Lenten suppers. Then our safe little world changed. However, the reality is that our world has never been fully safe, and the Angel from Montgomery has not yet shown up with a poster of the old rodeo.

What we have done in response is to broaden our human knowledge and make changes in our behavior. Yet, unlike Virgil left behind, we need a guide of grace to go deeper into a spiritual life. Among those changes; we can no longer count on the usual comfortable religious practices. We had to change the way we dealt with each other and with God. We have to move away from the idea that Jesus is our little pet that we pat on Sundays and before meals. We need to take a deeper journey; through the Hell of this time, being patient with ourselves and with others. It is good and helpful to go through the doubts as we find ways to respond and come to an awareness that the Spirit of the Risen Christ is present in the space between us, and in the very core of our being. Like Thomas, we put our hands in the wounds of this world and work for their, and our, healing. Faith, through the doubts, means to continue to connect, safely, but connect indeed ,with other people. We are separated by distance but not by souls.

My wife has had ill health for the last year and half. I retired from my previous church not quite two years ago, and as a retired Rector, I have had to stay away during the Interim time and for at least a year after the new Rector takes over. This is so this old arrogant man doesn't come in and undermine the new Rector, but to allow her to build a pastoral relationship with the people I served and loved. It was a change in the world I had come to know for fifteen years. However, my wife, Pat, is still on the books as a pledging member there, and while she doesn't show up for services there, she still gets phone calls from the pastoral care teams, Angels from Southern Shores, to see how she is doing. I get messages from St. Andrew's Angels in Nags Head, who call me to tell me that prayerful messages through the Risen Lord come my way.

One of my favorite John Prine songs was “Hello In There” written almost a half century ago when we were still in our twenties and it about dealing with distances; the chorus and last verse goes:

You know that old trees just grow stronger,
And old rivers grow wilder every day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say, "Hello in there, hello."

So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes,
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello."

Today we live in a time when “to believe in this livin' is a hard way to go”. All of us are on Death Row and yet, all of us are walking to the locked room to live into the Risen Christ. Today, if you can't be an Angel from Montgomery; be an angel from the Outer Banks and by word and deed connect with your friends, family, neighbors and the Risen Christ and say “Hello In There. Hello.”.

The convener of the Outer Banks Jewish Community's Worship Services passed on a Passover Prayer to me last week: “Blessed are You, Lord our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season.”

Thomas After Easter

Thomas awakens, feels lower than dirt,

thinks it's time to put religion on shelf,

now on it's all about his needs and self,

he's tired wallowing in anger and hurt.

He'd bragged lots along all the way here

crowing he'd stand, and with Jesus die,

but he ran into the dark of a night sky,

cowering in hiding in these times of fear.

His certainty had vanished with his pride,

but picking himself up to join the others,

trudging to meet locked away old brothers,

makes a decision; he'll in his hope confide.

Then in a new light, with no shame of guilt,

new deeper faith, through his doubt, is built.

Leaving Messages

A Reflection/Poem for Easter Sunday St. Andrew’s Church, Nags Head, N.C. 

April 12, 2020 Thomas E Wilson, Supply Clergy

Romans 6:3-11 Matthew 28:1-10 Psalm 114

Leaving Messages

Pat and I have this dog, Yoda, the Wonder Dog, and I walk him twice a day. Walking is, as you can guess perhaps a euphemism, a necessity for exercise for him and his old man and as a way to avoid time spent cleaning up carpets. But it is much more for him, because he spends a lot time sniffing the ground picking up all sorts of interesting scents as we are walking. What Yoda is really interested in doing is to look for messages left by other dogs (what I call p-mail) to which he can respond by leaving another message. The dog messages are probably something like, “Here I am! I am cute, strong and willing to claim this space as my own. Write back if you want to continue this conversation!”

Leaving messages. On the walks last week, before the rains came, other messages were left on some of the sidewalks. They were written in brightly multi-colored chalk words, all in capital letters. They said thing like: “HOPE”, “YOUR SMILE IS MORE CONTAGIOUS THAN THE COVID-19!”, “EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT!!”, and a drawing of a bright smiling Sun over the information with an arrow pointing - “THE BEACH IS OPEN!”

Leaving messages. I don’t know who drew these sidewalk chalk messages, but I smiled each time I walked past them. On the surface, the messages were not something especially churchy, except they were deeply religious in the true deeper meaning of the root words in Latin, “religio.” “Ligio” is a word for ligature, something which binds things things together, for example a tubal ligation is the tying together of tubes. If you add the pre-fix “re”, then it means to do it again. Religion, at its deepest sense, is the tying of people to each other and to a power greater than themselves. I think the artist of the chalk drawings meant to tie the residents of my neighborhood together even when we were going through with the exercise in Social Distancing which we were practicing in response to the COVID 19 pandemic. The underlying fear of the virus was made worse because of our tendency to make divisions. The message under all the messages is that we are all in this together and we are not alone.

Leaving messages. Leaving messages was the ministry of Jesus; the Christ that the Gospel of John called, “The Word.” In Matthew's Gospel, Jesus is the one who looks at the old stories the people told in scripture and at the customs of the law and reinterpreted them by saying, “You have heard it said of old... but I say... . ” In today's Gospel reading from Matthew, he meets the two women at the tomb who were there to try to fulfill the old law. Matthew recounts Jesus saying “χαίρετε”, which the translator for the version the church uses as “Greeting.” But the word “kairete”, while indeed a greeting, is a statement that says “rejoice.” The message in this word that Jesus is leaving is two-fold:

1) It is an everyday ordinary greeting, so it says don't be surprised at the things that God can do in bringing fullness of life in everyday extraordinary life. And

2) Our purpose in life is to rejoice, even in the bad times. In that way, he is finishing the message he was giving in the Sermon on the Mount when he told them to rejoice and be glad when all manner of things can happen. God is redeeming all things, even death itself. We do not have to be dominated by fear. Indeed, Jesus tells them that, echoing the Angel at the Tomb's message of “μὴ φοβεῖσθε”, “Don't be afraid!” And he tells them to share that message.

Jesus leaves his death in the same way he lived his life by leaving messages of how to live a life being a messenger. Jesus' message was not in words but in his life; a life dominated by compassion for others, a bringer of peace, a healer of wounds, a reconciler of divisions, a giver of love, a forgiver of the offenses of others and ourselves, a builder of a community of faith in a power greater than ourselves, a willingness to accept and share the suffering of others, a decision to treat life as a journey we are all passing through together, and a believer, not just with words but in a life lived out, that God redeems all things, even death itself.

So what does that have to do with us ordinary dog-faced people here on the Outer Banks in the 21^st Century in the middle of a fearful pandemic, who are ordered to stay home? The message to us messengers, you and me, on this Easter Day is, “μὴ φοβεῖσθε”, mey phobeisthe, “Don't be afraid!”, and “χαίρετε”, kairete, “Rejoice!”

Living life is leaving messages to others, to ourselves, to the world we share, and to the future we build together. What is the message you will share today?

Leaving Messages

Yoda's saying, “Ready or not, here am I!

Walking down this path sniffing away

trying to remember all is in my sway,

in my work to be part of binds that tie.”

The Priest behind him walking slowly

Wanting to walk fast to get things done,

All little tasks to finish under the sun,

Realizing however this task is also holy.

Wondering if all of his agendas are ego-

-driven; knows they need to be changed

He’d not from resurrection be estranged

And there’ll be enough room for “religio”.

Freed from fear with a rejoicing thereof,

leaving living messages based in love.

Poem for Good Friday and Stations of the Cross

A Poem to Accompany Gordon Kreplin’s Composition for Stations of the Cross

Prologue: In the Garden

After Jesus’ last supper with his disciples,

there entering the dark garden to pray,

a friend meets and with a kiss to betray,

as once lovers do, when life is spiteful.

Station I: Jesus is condemned

His trial was efficient, swift and foregone,

as a fix is when a country’s ruled by fear,

Pilate washing hands, shows hint of tear,

to show he’s not a bad guy, only a pawn.

Station II Jesus takes his cross

This carpenter picks up wood once again,

pressing against his cheek, he feels rough,

untreated lumber; he deems good enough,

being holy symbol of our salvation’s gain.

Station III Jesus falls for the first time

When God graciously emptied Godself out,

into human form, Jesus now feels all of our

weakness and struggles, arriving at this hour,

honoring all those daily walking a hard route.

Station IV Jesus sees Mary

He looks up, sees woman who gave him birth,

with all the pain she went through, and now

realizing all her fears when she took that vow,

to bring hope into a world and peace on earth.

Station V Simon of Cyrene helps Jesus

When injustice reigns, there are no bystanders,

for we will all be drafted to support the crimes

done to one another in the name of order times,

yet Simon takes a cross out of love’s standards.

Station VI Veronica wipes Jesus’ face

She comes forth without her being forced,

to offer one small kind gesture to the face

she doesn’t know, she touches with grace,

and fulfills a kindness he, himself endorsed.

Station VII Jesus falls the second time

Even without a cross, bodies let down us,

reaching the limits of being all too human,

yet rising up again, as do man or woman:

its what we do, without making a big fuss.

Station VIII Jesus speaks to the women of Jerusalem

While he is getting up, his heart goes out,

to all the mothers, lovers and wives to be,

who’ll suffer tyranny’s misrule they’ll see

again in futures, when fearful rulers pout.

Station IX Jesus falls for the third time

Now Jesus is reaching the end of the path

his feet will trod on this earth, end in sight,

yet with one more effort, he shows a light

that he is not alone facing a human wrath.

Station X Jesus is stripped

He, like we, all enter this world in our birth

without protection, or even hint, of modesty,

aren’t shamed. We are meant to live honestly,

with our souls naked before God on this earth.

Station XI Jesus is nailed to the cross

A Cross is that moment in a time and space

when symbols comes to life as a horizontal

finds how much it is in common with vertical;

intersecting, dynamic tension for human race.

Station XII Jesus dies

It’s accomplished, forgiving those who hurt him,

giving his love to his mother and to his friends,

giving his soul away to the love that never ends,

his work is done, his legacy is on that tree limb.

Station XIII Jesus taken off the cross

His mother takes her son into her arms at last,

weeping, wiping away his blood sweat with care

as she had, so many years before; her baby fair.

It is the last thing she can do when his life is past.

Station XIV Jesus is laid to rest

In a borrowed tomb, they lay his body down,

rolling a stone to give him some final peace,

then walk away, as if their ministries cease;

wonder what to do with the thorny crown.

Maundy Thursday 2020

A Poem/Reflection for Maundy Thursday St. Andrew's Church, Nags Head, N.C. April 9, 2020 Thomas E. Wilson, Supply Clergy

Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 John 13:1-17, 31b-35 Psalm 116:1, 10-17

Maundy Thursday 2020 

The time between Palm Sunday to Easter Eve is called Holy Week. The idea of Holy Week begins in the 4th Century after Christianity become legal, and the favored religion in the Roman Empire. The Emperor Constantine's Mother, Helen, a devout Christian traveled to Palestine to visit the places where Jesus lived, died and rose again. It was three centuries after the Jesus event and Jerusalem had been destroyed and rebuilt during that time so it was sketchy to find the actual steps of Jesus. But when Helen gets to town and starts building churches and monuments, the locals come up with some guesses. Christians start making pilgrimages to what they called “The Holy Land” and a tourist trade developed and flourished until the 7th century when the Muslim Conquerors disrupted the easy access. The 4th Century local version of the Chamber of Commerce came up with the idea of having a special week. Those of us who live on the Outer Banks understand the hospitality industry's idea of “special weeks.” In this week, the week before the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Vernal Equinox, the mass of pilgrims would begin. 

It began with a re-enactment of the entrance into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Then, different events about the teachings and miracles of Jesus observed for the next several days. Thursday had an enacted remembrance of the last supper, washing of the feet, prayer on the mount of Olives, the betrayal and arrest, followed by the denials of the disciples. Then after a night of darkness they would move into Friday where they would walk through the events of the trail, carrying the cross, crucifixion and burial. Saturday would be a day 

of reflection and silence with a highpoint service in one of the churches that Helen had built where she had been told was the burial tomb site of Jesus, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The service would begin after dark and continue to sunrise when candles would be extinguished and the cry would go out that “Christ is Risen.” Communion would follow and the pilgrimage would end with a feast. 

Pilgrims who had come back to their local churches, shared the news of how special the experience had been. Since the trip was both expensive and dangerous, local churches started to create a virtual pilgrimage of Holy Week for the rest of us. 

Today in Holy Week is called “Maundy Thursday.” The word “Maundy” comes from the Latin word for mandated. In the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke and in Paul's 1st letter to the Corinthians, Jesus’ command “Do this in remembrance of me!” refers to Jesus' Institution of the Last Supper. Jesus is celebrating Passover with his disciples where the Exodus story is told in order to remember who they are as good Jews; having a faith in God that God will deliver them out of the hands of their enemies. In the Passover celebration there is a Hebrew response to each miracle: “Dayenu” which means, even if it was only that; it would have been enough. Miracle upon miracle! This dependence on God's love is remembered and Jesus is telling them, whenever you eat bread or drink wine, know that God’s love and grace continues and there is still more to come. This is who we are, who follow him, people who trust God through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. So, communion is whenever and wherever you are, and you trust. During this time of staying at home and social distance, please see each time you eat your daily bread or each time you drink something, even water remember that the Risen Christ is with you. 

When I first went to seminary, 39 years ago, the second day after I unloaded the U-Haul truck, I ended up in the hospital and two days later was sent up to Nashville to have surgery. At the small local Sewanee hospital, Bishop Girault Jones, the 7th Bishop of the Diocese of Louisiana, who had retired to Sewanee and became the Interim Dean of the Seminary was also volunteering to do weekly Eucharist Service in the Chapel at the Hospital and would take communion to each person who requested it. He told me before the service, to stay in bed and begin my prayers at the time he would begin the service. If he came to my room and the Doctors were with me, he would not interrupt them; but for me to know that I had received the communion by intension. It is a doctrine that if you are about to receive a sacrament you have prepared yourself for by prayer and are prevented from actually receiving it that God's grace was so sufficient that I would have received it by intension. For those of us who are now living through a time of social distance due to the Covid-19 virus pandemic, Intension Reception is a good doctrine to hold on to. 

The other element of Maundy Thursday is from the Gospel of John, who remembers the last Supper as the last chance Jesus had to remind his followers to minister to others and be vulnerable to being ministered unto, by the institution of the Washing of the Feet in remembrance of Him. The washing of feet in church services goes way back in the history of the Christian Church. It is an outward and visible sign that whenever we do a gift of ministry to help someone, we are doing it through Christ living in us. Also, whenever we receive a gift of ministry, we are to see it as someone being an image of Christ to us and to vulnerable enough to receive the gift of God's love. 

I was first introduced to foot washing in an Episcopal mission on Maundy Thursday 48 years ago. The Church of the Servant was meeting in people's houses and in an elementary school in Wilmington, N.C. I was a social worker at the time and had no problem accepting other people and ministering to them; but, like Peter in John's Gospel story for today, I had real problems allowing God or people to get close to me as my ego, my pride - the mother of all my sins, gets in the way. Jesus, over the years since, has been working on me to be vulnerable to God's grace and on good days I am able to allow it. We are all works in progress, as faith is not a destination but a journey. 

Today, be vulnerable to God's miracles and grace. 

Maundy Thursday

Before the parishioner he knelt down,

washing her feet on Maundy Thursday,

proud to show how he’s, on this day,

one of the humblest men in this town.

But -now it comes -his own ugly feet

to be accepted, to be ministered unto,

embarrassed, not wanting to go though,

looking for easy way a retreat to beat.

Jesus! I’m not sure I want you this close,

To see me as I am, I want to extenuate,

giving reasons that me, you won’t hate,

from thoughts of my head to my toes.

This church isn’t doing feet these years,

Yet, He’s daily washing souls by His tears.

Peter's Sword: Reflection and Poem for Palm Sunday 2020

Poem/Reflection for Palm Sunday 
St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, Nags Head, N.C.  
April 5, 2020 
Thomas E. Wilson, Supply Clergy 

Matthew 21:1-11Matthew 26:14-27:66 

Peter's Sword 

The lessons for Palm Sunday focus on 1) Jesus’triumphal entry into Jerusalem and 2) Matthew's Passion Narrative of the Last Supper, anguished prayers, arrest, trial, crucifixion, death and burial of Jesus. You know the story; you have heard it before. Usually I don't do a reflection or Poem for Palm Sunday, I let the stories speak for themselves, but since I had so much time on my hand with the “Stay at home” order during this Covid19 virus crisis, I thought I would see what it says to me today. 

One part of the passage struck me especially this year:“Suddenly, one of those with Jesus put his hand on his sword, drew it, and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. Then Jesus said to him, ‘Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.’” 

Other Gospels remember Peter was the “one of those with Jesus” who drew his sword. I tried to understand what it was with Peter that caused him to fight back. I went into his fear and discovered again how I also have an initial reaction to fight back against threats. I have a desire to show how powerful I am with a “Don't tread on ME, nobody messes with Tom Wilson!” show of power. 

The “stay at home” order was a similar threat to my power to set my own agenda. The danger of infection was real and especially true for old folk like me. I, with a group of six other ministers of the Ministerial Association, do volunteer Chaplaincy work at the local hospital. One week out of every six weeks, I am on call to visit patients or families or staff in the Emergency Room, or the rest of the Hospital, to pastorally help people deal with disturbing events of their lives. Except, two of us in that group, both of us way over 60 years old, were told that our pastoral work would be restricted to phone or video conferencing. 

It was a sound decision, based on fact; but I wanted to swagger over there and tell them: “Although the hair on my head is gray, I can handle anything! So there!”As I remarked to a friend at the time, “It is not the first time I have been told that I am too oldfor something.” My parents would say it from time to time when I was a child. Some friends told me when I was in my midlife crisis deciding to go to seminary. Some churches did not want a middle age man as the bright shiny new curate. My wife reminds me of my age from time to time. My doctor might still say it during the annual physical next month. 

My reaction reminded me of my reaction every time I see red flags on the lifeguard stands on the beach during the summer. The red flags mean the water is dangerous due to storms or riptides which could sweep even the most powerful swimmers out to sea and drown them. The danger of riptides is that they can catch you and pull you out deeper. If I panic and try to swim against that riptide, back toward the beach, I will get exhausted and drown; but if I swim parallel to the beach, out of the riptide, then I have a much better hope of getting back to shore. Also I will not put a lifeguard's life in danger who will try to save me from stupid decisions. I know this because I have been called to be a chaplain to the families who had a member who ignored the red flag. Except, even knowing the warning that the red flag signals,there is a part of me that wants to prove my manhood with the, not all that bright, thought that I am no mere mortal. I want to prove that I don't have fear.  

The primitive brain calls for only two reactions to fear:fight or flight. However, Jesus kept telling his disciples, and us, “Don't be afraid!” He didn't day, “Swagger and be stupid” nor “Runaway and hide”. Jesus always gives a third option;and in this instance,the task is to be aware of the fear, and then let it go. Don't let your life be ruled by fear but use wisdom and common sense. Easter tells us, in God's plan -Easter does come after Palm Sunday, that all things are redeemed. 

The New Testament uses a warning against fear over a hundred times. Don't be ruled by fear.Rather, be ruled by love. In the Hospital situation: Is it loving for me to place others’ lives in danger by going into the hospital to do chaplaincy work when I might be passing on the virus, or using up scarce equipment, or claiming limited time, or resources or a hospital bed that might be needed by someone else, or pass it on to my family, parishioners or staff? In the Red flag situation: Is it loving for me to risk a lifeguard's life in danger, a lifeguard, some of whom were once children that I prepared for confirmation, or trained as acolytes, or held when they cried, or laughed with them and whose parents trusted me to do the loving thing? 

Jesus tells us “Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.” We will all die, but also those who live by fear will die in fear. Those who live in love will rest in God's love when they die.  

Peter's Sword 
Red flags on lifeguard stands telling  
me the riptides are running going out, 
seducing me to struggle on that route: 
show strength against wave swelling! 
Reminds me of Peter's hand reaching 
for an ever-present sword to prideful 
actions against all we see as frightful, 
forgetting for moments HIS teaching. 
This our Hope keeps repeating to me, 
over and over again, “I” power alone 
will not make the life currents atone; 
swim out of swagger into rest of sea.” 
Our hope keeps whispering into ear,“
Don't be afraid -let go of the fear.”