Proper 8 B

The rich, powerful Jairus and the poor nameless woman with a hemorrhage both went to Jesus for help, and both were healed. Jesus' love and grace are offered equally to all.

Sermon for Proper 8 B

Given in June 1994

At St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Brentwood

By Rev. Valerie Ann Hart

If the Gospel reading seemed a bit long to you today, that’s because it was. I added a bit extra. Each Sunday we are mandated to read what is in the lectionary for that week, but it is up to the discretion of the priest to add to the readings. If we followed the lectionary today we would hear only the story of Jairus’s daughter. This is a powerful story even if standing alone. Certainly much could be preached about it. Themes of faith, and resurrection, the meaning of death and of life are there to be drawn upon. But when Mark wrote the story down he chose to add in the middle of it the story of the woman who had been bleeding. By editorial prerogative he could have put that story somewhere else, or even left it out, but instead he sandwiched it in the middle of another story. The people who put together the Sunday lectionary, unlike Mark, chose to leave the story of the hemorrhaging woman out. She doesn’t show up in the readings for any other Sunday, and I feel her story is too important to ignore. In addition, I feel that Mark must have had a reason for combining these two stories together, so I read the whole thing.

Jairus is a leader of the synagogue, that would be like being a Bishop and a mayor wrapped into one. Leaders of the synagogues had religious respect and authority, and were also community leaders. He was undoubtedly also well off financially.

In contrast, the woman who is hemorrhaging doesn’t even have a name. She has spent all her money on doctors, so she must have been quite poor. She has been bleeding for twelve years, which is usually interpreted to be a menopausal problem. When a woman was bleeding in ancient Israel she was considered unclean, ritually impure. In fact a man who touched (or was touched by) a menstruating woman was considered impure and had to go through certain rituals and wait at least twenty-four hours before being considered clean again. A man who was ritually impure was not allowed to enter the temple or partake in any religious services. Imagine what it would have been like for this woman. An outcast, untouchable for twelve years. Desperate she committed an unthinkable act - she touched a rabbi - thereby making him unclean as well.

Yet Jesus responded to her with as much compassion and love as he did to the rich Jairus. She is healed, not condemned.

Then Mark describes Jesus as continuing on with Jairus, without any purity rituals, without waiting the appointed time, and bringing the little girl back to life. A great miracle is performed by a ritually impure rabbi.

I believe Mark put these two stories together to emphasize Jesus’ total acceptance of all people. The rich and powerful and the most lowly and outcast are all welcomed and loved by Christ. It is the model which Mark would have us follow - total acceptance of all. It would have been easy for Jesus to focus his ministry on the rich - he could have healed them and lived will. But he didn’t, he responded to the poor, the outcast as well. It would have been easy for Jesus to only focus on the poor, to say that the powerful were already too corrupt. But he didn’t, he healed the rich and the powerful as well.

The community which Christ began - the Church - is called to welcome all. There is never a fee to enter the church. We are not judged by the amount of money in our pockets or the power that we wield. We are all in need of Christ’s healing love, rich or poor, powerful or outcast. We are all equal in his loving eyes.

Right now I feel a little like that hemorrhaging woman. I feel a bit awkward and unsure. I need to reach our and touch your robes for the health of this church. Asking for money is difficult for me. I don’t like to focus on the needs of the church, especially in a sermon, but I don’t know any other way to do this. This church, this tiny part of the great Kingdom of God, is in financial need. Each month we spend more than we receive and our savings are being quickly consumed. If St. Alban’s is to continue as a light in the world, if Christ’s work of reconciliation and healing is to continue here, in this form, we quite frankly need more money. The work of Christ will go on regardless of what happens here. The Kingdom of God is greater than you or I or St. Alban’s, but I believe we have some unique gifts to bring to this community and if you feel so also I ask you to increase your pledge or fill out a pledge card in the back of the church.

In the letter read today Paul writes to the Corinthians about members of the church in another city saying:

During a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For, as I can testify, they voluntarily gave accord to their means, and even beyond their means, begging us earnestly for the privilege of sharing in this ministry to the saints. 

Begging for the privilege of sharing in the ministry.

In my mind from the readings today there can be no question about the kind of life a Christian is called to live. It is a life in which all people are valued, where no one needs to be ashamed because of their lack of the ability to give and no one is to be proud because of their wealth. It is a life in which one gives all that one can. It is a life where people give out of the abundance of joy that they have experienced as Christ’s gift to them.

All of us, rich and poor alike, are like the woman who feels she is unworthy to speak to the Lord and ask for his healing, yet has faith that just to touch his hem will heal her. We come on our knees to Christ, awed by the greatness of his gift to us, knowing that there is nothing we can do that would even begin to equal it. So we offer to Christ what we have, our time, our talents, our treasure. Not out of ought, but joyfully wanting to share in the privilege of Christ’s ministry to the world.

Proper 7 B

When we encounter a Goliath in our lives, when the wind and the waves of everyday living feel like they will sink us, Jesus says, "Peace, be still."

Proper 7 B 

Transcribed from

A sermon given by

Rev. Valerie Ann Hart

June 24, 2012

At St. Barnabas Episcopal Church

In that rather long first reading we got to hear the story of David and Goliath. Now Goliath was obviously a very large man. Whether he was quite as big as he is described in scripture is unknown, but he was obviously a much bigger man than any of the Israelites. You can imagine the fear, the confusion and the concern among the Israelite fighters. Remember, back then it was all hand to hand fighting so if someone was that much larger you, you were at a great disadvantage. But what was there about David that he didn’t get caught up in the fear and the concern.? What was it about him that he was able to keep his head and come up with a unique solution to that problem of Goliath? 

We can imagine what it was like then, with the yelling and shouting and the cacophony of the soldiers cheering on their people. The waves of fear that must have gone through the camp as they realized they were going into war. So much chaos and confusion and anxiety, yet David responded with clarity and calmness. 

That confusion and waves of chaos that David encountered were not unlike what the sailors with Jesus encountered. The Sea of Galilee is actually a rather shallow lake. I don’t know the physics of it, but the shallower the lake is, the bigger the waves are. So the Sea of Galilee, or lake Tiberius to the Romans, tends to suddenly have storms where the waves get very high. It is quite unpredictable. It is dangerous and it can be overwhelming. 

Let’s think about the disciples. They were fisherman. Now a fisherman stays pretty much along the coast. He doesn’t go too far out into the lake because most of the fish are caught close to the edge. The disciples would be used to fishing so if there was a big storm they would close to shore and able to come in. But Jesus had them going straight across quite a distance, far out from shore. So, even though these were experienced fishermen they were terrified by the storm. 

We can imagine being caught out on a boat in a huge storm with big waves. The water is rolling in over the boat and we think we are going to die. Then we look around, and our passenger is comfortably sleeping on the cushions in the back. 

The disciples say to him, “Aren’t you afraid that we are going to perish?” 

Now what was Jesus going to do. He doesn’t know anything about running a boat. He’s a carpenter. They, as fishermen, know much better what to do. Jesus wouldn’t be able to help them. What is going to, bail the boat? What do they expect from him? 

They seem bothered by the fact that he was so calm amidst this storm. They seem to want his attention. “Don’t you care about us? Don’t you care that we are about to perish?” 

“Actually not really too much,” is sort of Jesus’s response.

I have in my mind this image of Jesus kind of sleepily waking up and going, “Peace, be still.”

Then the waves stop and everything clams down. 

Now this is one of his miracles where the disciples began to realize that Jesus wasn’t just a healer, but he could control nature – the wind and the waves. But to me there is a deeper level to this story and that’s the “Peace, be still” comment. 

The real problem on that boat wasn’t the waves or the wind, but the fear, anxiety and confusion of the disciples. We all know what that is like. We all have times in our lives when the waves seem to be crashing over us. When there is so much stuff going on. When the fear of being able to pay the bills, worry about losing a job, concern that our children are acting out, or our parents are acting out, or we’re dealing with physical illness, with grief or loss. When the waves of pain, the waves of grief, come over us we feel it is going to sink us. It is coming from every direction, it is uncontrollable and our minds get obsessed. We all know what it is like when our minds are in great chaos. When it seems like we can’t think rationally anymore. 

Like the soldiers when they were confronting this giant Goliath. It didn’t occur to them that there might be some other way of defeating him. They were just overwhelmed with fear. 

But when we can quiet our minds a little bit, even for a short period, maybe we will see a way of getting through, of coping. 

So I think that when Jesus said, “Peace, be still,” he might have been talking to the disciples as much as he was talking to the wind and the waves. “Peace. Peace be still.” What a gift that is – to find peace and stillness within the chaos of our lives. 

That’s one of the reasons that it is traditional in many, many religions to have some regular practice of prayer and quiet. For me it is Centering Prayer. Some people do some form of meditation or relaxation. It is the idea of practicing peace and the stillness. If you practice that when life is going along okay, then when the waves start to feel like they are going to overwhelm you, you have something to go back to.

Of course what it really is asking Christ to be there with us, to give us that peace. Even if it is just 5 minutes a day. Even if it is less than that, just some time of quiet. 

Just to give us a little taste of that, I’d like to invite you all to close your eyes and just notice your breathing.

(The sermon ends with a brief meditative exercise.)

Proper 6 B - Sowing Seeds

When we share our faith, tell our story, offer a gift or give of our time we cast a seed. Maybe, just maybe, it will sprout in another person's heart and grow; and we won't know how.

Sermon given on June 15, 1997

At St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Brentwood

By Rev. Valerie Ann Hart

Mark 4:26-34

A handful of wheat, five thousand years old, was found in the tomb of one of the kings of ancient Egypt.Someone planted the grains and, to the amazement of all, the grains came to life.

A parable is like a seed. No matter how long ago the story was told, when planted in the heart, in the mind, in the soul, it can come to life and grow. Each time we remember the story, each time a new event in our lives triggers a remembrance of the parable, there is a new understanding, and the seedling grows. Each time, each retelling, each rereading, each remembering the depth of understanding grows. 

Jesus taught in parables, in puzzles, with stories that his hearers would remember, would think about - that would aid and nurture the spiritual growth of the hearer. 

There are parables of words, and parables of action.

A sannyasi, an Indian holy man,had reached theoutskirts of a village and settleddown under a tree for the nightwhen a villager came running upto him and said, "The stone! Thestone! Give me the precious stone!"  

"What stone?" asked the sannyasi.  

"Last night the Lord Shiva appearedto me in a dream," said the villager,"and told me that if I went to theoutskirts of the village at duskI should find a sannyasi whowouldgive me a precious stone that wouldmake me rich forever.”  

The sannyasi rummaged in his bag andpulled out a stone.  "He probablymeant this one, " he said, as he handedthe stone over to the villager.  “I foundit on a forest path some days ago.  Youcan certainly have it.” 

The man gazed at the stone in wonder.It was a diamond; probably the largest diamond in the whole worldfor it wasas large as a person’s head.  He took the diamond and walked away. 

Allnight he tossed about in bed,unable to sleep.The next dayat the crack of dawn he woke the sannyasi and said, "Give me the wealth that makes it possible for you to give this diamond away so easily.”  

A gift, an act of love, a touch, a statement, the telling of one’s own story can be a seed, planted in the heart, which grows to enlighten the soul. The gift given without expectation, the seed planted without knowing how, or why or if it will grow. The faith of the farmer who keeps scattering seed on the ground even though he doesn’t know why or how. Even though sometimes for days and nights he sees nothing above the ground. The seeds are scattered in faith - faith that somehow they will bear fruit.

The Samaritanwoman put down her water jar and went off to the town.  She said to the people, "Come and see the man who has told me everything I ever did.  Could this be the Messiah?"

Whata wonderful teacher wasthe Samaritan woman! She gave no answers. She only asked a question.She planted the seed of a question.It must have been tempting togive the answer because she had gotten it directly fromJesus when hesaid, “Iam the Messiah.  I who am talking to you."  But she was content to scatter the seed of a question and let it grow.

Many more became disciples because of what they heard from his own lips. They said to the woman, "It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for wehave heard him ourselves, and we know that this is, indeed, the Savior of the world."

We too need to be like the farmer who scatters seeds. We are called to scatter seeds - seeds of our own stories - the parables of our own lives - seeds of faith, seeds of love, seeds of gifts given without expectation. We plant the seeds in those we care for, in those we meet, in our neighbors, our friends, and our children. We tell the stories, we ask the questions, we give the gifts and then we sleep and rise night and day and let the seeds sprout, and grow and rejoice that the smallest of seeds can become the greatest of all shrubs.

Proper 5 B - Mother Mary's response

Ever wonder what Jesus' mother might have felt like when Jesus asked "Who are my mother and my brothers?"

Proper 5 B

Sermon given on June 7, 2015

At St Michael’s, Gainesville FL

The Rev. Valerie Ann Hart

Mark 3:20-35

(Put a shawl over my head to represent playing the role of Mother Mary)

You, out there, who are parents - you will understand. We worry about our children. We want them to be safe and happy. You can understand why when people were saying that my son Jesus had gone out of his mind I felt I had to do something. He was always so gentle and kind. He loved to study and learn. Sure, he hadn’t found a wife and wasn’t interested in being a carpenter like his father, but I didn’t really start to worry about him until after he went to see his cousin John by the Jordan River. After he was baptized he disappeared for 40 days! Forty days and no one knew where he was! I was beside myself with worry. Then suddenly he shows up in a nearby town with followers and crowds of people surrounding him, begging for healing. People told me he couldn’t find time to eat! I also heard about how he was criticizing the scribes. I was afraid he would get into trouble. It can be dangerous to speak against the authorities when your country is occupied. So the family talked it over and we decided to go and bring him home. To keep him safe.

When we got there we couldn’t get close to him. We had to wait outside. We told someone in the crowd to let him know we were there and then we heard his reply - even above all the noise of the crowd. It cut like a knife! He said, “ Who are my mother and my brothers?” As if we didn’t exist! As if we didn’t matter! Then he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and my sister and my mother.” I was so deeply hurt - we turned around to head home.

I kept thinking about that moment, those words, for days. After the initial shock and anger subsided I realized that he wasn’t saying that I was no longer his mother. It was not about excluding his family, but rather it was about including everybody. He was saying to everyone gather there that he loved them like he loved his family. He was not excluding but including. As time passed I saw how he loved everyone. It didn’t matter where they came from, or how much money they made. He ate with Pharisees and tax collectors, with the rich and the poor. He healed Samaritans and Roman’s and Greeks as well as those from Galilee and Judea. You could see it. No matter who he was talking to there was love and attention in his eyes. And he hadn’t stopped loving me. In fact later we were very close and I sometimes traveled with him.

I also thought a lot about what he said about those who do the will go God. What did he mean by saying that the people around him were doing the will of God? Wasn’t I, as a mother, doing the will of God in trying to protect and take care of my son? How were those people gathered around doing the will of God? They were just listening to him. And then I realized that listening to him was doing the will of God.  They were listening, really listening. I hadn’t taken the time to listen to him. I listened to what other people were saying about him. I hadn’t taken the time to listen to him myself. Before coming to take him home, I should have listened to understand who he was and what he wanted. 

So I started to listen, really listen. I listened to his words not just with my ears, but also with my heart. I heard in them the call to love - to love God and to love your family. And that everyone - every human being - is a part of your family. It is hard to explain this using English, because your word love means so many different things. The kind of love that he was talking about was a love that wants what is best for the other person. That yearns for that other person to be all that God intended for him or her to be. And it is about being willing to give up some of your own comfort and convenience to the sake of the other. 

For Jesus it meant being willing to speak the truth to authority even though they wanted to kill him. For Jesus, loving all his family, all people, meant being willing to die a horrible death.

As a mother I wanted to protect him. I wanted to keep him safe. Yes, I loved him, but I was also a little selfish. I knew what I wanted for my son, but hadn’t listened to what he wanted, to what God wanted. To love and to sacrifice for another, listening carefully with ears and heart for what is truly right for that other person - that I have come to believe, is what he meant when he said that his family is made up of those who do the will of God.

He wants us, all of us, to listen and to love each other the way he loves us.