Category: Sermons

The Discovery of Identity and the Path of Discipleship

When we try to find a place, the first thing we do is check where we are. Using the map app on our smartphones, we pinpoint our current location and then find the best way to reach our destination. This process becomes easier when we recognize familiar landmarks. Our life journey, and our faith journey, is much like this. To find the right path to our destination, we must continuously check our identity and our place in relation to those around us. We do not live alone, but in relationships, so in our faith journey, it is crucial to discover ourselves within these relationships. How is my faith being shaped, and where do I stand in these relationships? As we hold these questions, we walk the path of discipleship.

Everyone has their own understanding of their identity. We often ask ourselves, “Who am I?” But finding the answer is not easy. Identity is much more complex and multi-dimensional than we may think. There is often a big gap between how we see ourselves and how others see us. Sometimes, there is even a large difference between the way we define ourselves and how we actually behave. In some situations, we may act kindly and put others first, but in other situations, we may act selfishly or try to protect ourselves. Even in a single day, we can witness  good and evil mixing within ourselves.

Our identity is not set in stone. Rather, it transforms and adjusts based on the relationships and situations we face. Like a living being, our identity grows and evolves as we journey through life. The direction of this change, whether for better or worse, is shaped by the choices we make and the effort we put in.

As Christians, we discover and mature our identity through our relationship with God. As we walk the path of faith, we come to realize that identity is not something fixed or permanent but is continually shaped and deepened through our relationship with God. The Apostle Paul says in Galatians 2:20, “It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me.” This verse offers key insight into what it means to be a believer and what kind of identity we should pursue as Christians. We must recognize Christ’s presence in our lives and continuously shape our identity through our relationship with Him.

On the road to Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asked His disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” This was a question about the public’s perception of Christ. The disciples answered, “Some say John the Baptist, but others,  Elijah, and still others, one of the prophets.” People were defining Jesus based on their own understanding. 

But Jesus asked the disciples a deeper, more personal question: “But who do you say that I am?” This was a question for each disciple individually, one that led to a deep reflection on their faith identity. Peter answered, “You are the Messiah.” This confession was not just a change in understanding but a profound faith acknowledgment that Jesus was the Savior sent by God.

However, when Jesus spoke about His suffering and death, Peter could not accept it. The Messiah the Jews expected was a political savior who would free Israel from Roman oppression. But Jesus’ mission as the Messiah went beyond human expectations; it was about salvation through suffering and death. Peter didn’t understand this and tried to stop Jesus. That’s when Jesus rebuked him sharply, saying, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” This was because Peter was trying to understand God’s plan from a human perspective. Jesus’ path was not about worldly victory but about fulfilling God’s redemptive plan, which Peter had not yet fully understood.

Our identity is not formed in isolation but discovered through relationships. Just as it is impossible to describe the position of a single object in space without reference to others, we can only define ourselves through our relationships with God, family, friends, and the church community. Just as Sunday, one day of the week, has meaning in relation to the other six days, so we find clarity about our identity in the context of our relationships with others.

When we discover ourselves within these relationships, the deeper our relationship with God becomes, the clearer we understand who we truly are. Our identity is shaped within the love God has given us, and it continues to grow according to His will. As it says in Ephesians 4:15-16, we grow together as the body of Christ, speaking the truth in love. The church community is a vital place where we discover our identity, and in that space, we mature more deeply in God. Jesus also shared His mission through His relationships with His disciples, and through these deep connections, He revealed His identity as the Son of God. As Jesus’ identity became clearer in His fellowship with the disciples, they also discovered their own calling.

Every day, we must check our identity as we walk the path of faith. Sometimes, we feel satisfied with what we have achieved, and other times, we face failure and disappointment. But as Christians, our journey is not tied to any one moment of success or failure. Instead, we begin anew each day in our relationship with God. We must not regard past achievements as eternal or hold onto the pain of failure for too long. Instead, we should humbly reflect on how we can use each day given to us by God to grow in Him.

Our faith is not static but a process of constant change and maturity. In our relationship with God, we are continually being transformed and growing. Today, let us entrust ourselves to God and pray that our identity deepens and matures through our love for one another. As we dedicate each day to the Lord, we will continually discover who we are, follow Christ’s path, and grow deeper in faith.

Amen.

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, September 1, 2024, at 8:00 and 10:00 a.m.
 Pentecost 16, Proper 17

The Author and Giver of All Good Things

“…the author and giver of all good things.” (Collect, Proper 17)
 “In all life thou livest the true life of all.” (Hymnal “Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise.”)
 “All good gifts around us are sent from heaven above; then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord for all his love.” (Hymnal “We Plow the Fields and Scatter.”)
 “And the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land…arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” (Song of Solmon 2ff)
 “My heart bursts its band, spilling beauty and goodness.” (Psalm 45:1)
 “Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers.” (James 1:17-27)

I am so happy to be back with you good people and especially this morning, when we celebrate in Solomon’s song, like lovers, life itself and all that it brings and offers us. Joy is the theme of scripture, an appreciation for all of it, and to compare life to a gazelle, a young stag, who entices us to come away with it. Yes, the time of singing has come, and that time is now. The voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. We who have ears to hear, let us hear!

But I wish to pause and share with you our parish sorrow over the death of our dear friend Gillian Newell. Gillian had been absent from church for some time as her health declined, but many of you didn’t forget her but kept in close touch. I think of Angela Saurman, whose devotion was unstinting. Angela was even at her bedside in her final moments. God bless the friendships that parish life provides. Gillian was a fixture in this parish for decades. I remember her in so many settings here. There was a mid-week Communion that some of us attended. We sat up there in the chancel and had wonderful discussions. There were just six or eight of us. I thank God for Gillian and her example of godly devotion and service. May the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace.

And of the beautiful readings this morning, in addition to the joy that pervades the Old Testament and Psalm, a joy that should come through in all we read and in all we practice, there is the challenge to match our words with our deeds. Be doers of the word and not just hearers. Or even more starkly, be doers of the word and not just sayers.

Now hearing and saying are relatively passive activities, and we can be pretty good with them, can’t we? I can read a good poem or even occasionally hear a good sermon and say, “Yes!” I may even repeat a wise thing I’ve heard and act as if I have absorbed it into my life. But then I can turn around and forget it as quickly as I heard it. Easy come and just as easily go.

I have just returned from several days in Bermuda, a lovely spot, free of clouds and certainly free of worry. The hurricane had passed, and there was no excuse to do anything but to enjoy and love the beauty and those around me. The owner of the Airbnb that I stayed in was most helpful and went out of her way to help me solve several issues we had during our visit. The electric car we rented had a charger cable that just didn’t work at her charge station, and she spent a good deal of time trying to fix the issue for us. But I, far from taking a page from her copybook, found myself grumbling and cranky. I don’t know why. I was certainly not being as kind to others as I was being treated. I hated this in myself. My partner kept saying, “Stop your bitching!” but I didn’t know how to. My friend said, “Why complain? Complaining only complicates the issue and makes everything unpleasant.” I had never thought about it that way. It’s so true: complaining complicates things. Remove the complaint and things become much easier to handle. And in looking back on my time on that beautiful island, I can see that I was lacking gratitude. Being grateful and complaining are hard to hold simultaneously. Think about it the next time you are drawn to complain about something that is going on with you. I’ll try and think about it too. A grateful life is the Christian way of life. Our Collect this morning reminds us of the God who is “the author and giver of all good things.”

So, it can be easy to hear and even to say or repeat lovely things, things that sit well with us and make us feel good. But turning around and acting on those things is quite another thing. Is there anyone among us who can claim they are free from all hypocrisy? A hypocrite is someone who says one thing and does another, whose pretty face doesn’t match the face he or she acts out in the world. It’s not for nothing that every world religion puts as its number-one moral injunction: “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.” “Do unto others as you are doing unto yourself.” We find this all over the world, in every religious culture. Why? Because it gets to the nub of things. This is it. Treat others as we wish to be treated. And part of the problem, of course, is that we don’t feel so darned good about ourselves and project onto others the ugly face we all too often feel about ourselves.

Good intentions do go awry. As the English proverb has it, “There’s many a slip between the cup and the lip.” We are constantly saying one thing and doing sometimes quite the opposite. And we can beat ourselves up mercilessly over not being true to our word. In reflecting on the life and loving of the man Jesus the Christ, it is hard to see any discrepancy between his words and his deeds. His inner and outer life were one thing. And that beautiful life is the mirror of what ours is, or at least could be. We do not have to live a life out of sync with what we know to be a better way. We can, with God’s grace and an attitude of gratitude, move beyond all our hypocrisies. And a footnote: have you noticed how the simplest word of kindness can turn around a person’s day and turn around our day as well? So, I ask myself: What in the world should stop us from such a dance of love?

And another thing. The gospel this morning talks about the hypocrisy of the Pharisees. In fact, the word, “pharisaical” has come to mean religiously hypocritical. You know people like that, don’t you? But I’d better go easy with this. For who am I to judge anyone else’s piety or religious belief or devotion? I had best look after my own religious life, which is riddled with inconsistencies and hypocrisy. My only judgment is that I’m not competent to judge anyone, much less that I have any right to judge anyone. Perhaps the only sin worse than my own hypocrisy is my judgmentalism of those whom I deem to be hypocritical. It’s more fun to point a finger at you. It takes the attention away from myself!

I do believe that gratitude overcomes hypocrisy and judgmentalism. I love the hymns we sing this morning. So I’ll close with the lyrics of another hymn, the Beethoven Ode to Joy!

Joyful, joyful, we adore thee,

God of glory, Lord of love;

Hearts unfold like flowers before thee, praising thee, their sun above.
 Melt the clouds of sin and sadness;

drive the dark of doubt away;
 Giver of immortal gladness,

fill us with the light of day.

Amen.

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, June 2, 2024, at 8:00 and 10 a.m.
By the Rev. Stephen C. Galleher

The Hidden God

“Lord, you have searched me out and known me; * you know my sitting down and my rising up.” (Psalm 139:1)

“God hasn’t left our side.” (II Cor. 4:5-12)

This morning, I want to present my meditation in the form of a question. This is something that I believe most of us have asked at one time or another. And I will suggest four different answers. Each of these answers I believe to be partially true. The result will hopefully be that we are a bit clearer to the truth—either that or a bit more confused, which is always a risk when we talk about God at all.

So, the question is this: Why does God remain in large part hidden? The Psalmist pleads: “God, make known your purpose to me!” In brief, why doesn’t God show his or her or its face more clearly, or more often?

Answer #1

God’s face stays hidden because its face is too magnificent for us mere mortals to behold. Beyond the moon, beyond the stars, beyond our ability to understand or take in.

God is ineffable by definition, beyond our concepts altogether. And this incomprehensibility goes even deeper than this. God’s hugeness and mystery are such that, should it reveal itself fully, we question is that even possible. The mysterium tremendum, the holy, whose hand stretches across the universe and, in fact, upholds it—the light from this source is too bright. I have heard of black holes, but even after watching a documentary, I haven’t a very clear idea about them. God says to Moses in the Book of Exodus: “I will not let you see my face, because no one can see me and stay alive. When the dazzling light of my presence passes by, you will see my back, but not my face” (Exodus 33:20-23). And in Deuteronomy: “Tell them how the Lord spoke to you from the fire, how you heard him speaking but did not see him in any form at all.” (Deuteronomy 4:11).

While there are passages, to confuse the fundamentalist, that indicate that God did, in fact, vouchsafe to appear to Moses, Jacob, Aaron, a couple of others—and in another place to the seventy elders—the meaning here, I believe, is that God reveals himself primarily through the words that he conveys and through the salvation events, words, events, prophets as intermediaries. They bring God’s word, not God himself. [pause]

Again, Why does God hide his face?

Answer #2

God hides his face as a direct consequence of our disobedience. Again, from Deuteronomy: “I will become angry with them. (Deuteronomy 31:17).

Moral imperfection separates us from the presence of God. Hence, the furious answer of God to Job from the whirlwind. God pulls out all the stops of his transcendence and righteousness when Job dares question how a righteous God can allow evil and suffering in the world.

“Were you there,” asks God, “when I made the world? If you know so much, tell me about it. Do you know all the answers” (Job 38:4-5)? In other words, “Shut up, you fool!”

There is, it seems to me, profound psychological insight in this second answer as to why God hides himself, why she does not make herself plain. Anger, self-pity, pride, ego—they all keep us from seeing clearly: they separate us from clearly seeing either ourselves or the situations in which we wallow—and hence, we separate ourselves, or are separated, from the truth. Aberrant moral behavior places a barrier between us and reality, and hence God. John says that whoever says, “I love God” and hates his neighbor is a liar. John was a crackerjack psychologist.

Isn’t it the case that our stubbornness in a relationship prevents us from seeing clearly, seeing, for instance, just how much love our spouse has for us, except for his or her own fear and defensiveness?

So, God hides himself from us because of the veil between his righteousness and our unrighteousness. Purity of heart: blessed are those with it, for they shall see God!

Again: Why, though, does God choose to remain so hidden and aloof?

Answer #3:

Perhaps we need to peel away some skin of this onion and ask what is the nature of this God whom we believe to be not revealing itself. As Christians, we believe that the person of Jesus showed the face or heart of God as never before. The opening of the gospel of John says, “No one has ever seen God. The only son, who is the same as God and is at the Father’s side, he has made him known” (John 1:18).

You know, we can say we believe all we want that God does reveal himself; but until these things make a difference in our lives, until they stir our hearts to say “Ah, ha!” they are so much gobbledygook. Perhaps, and I personally am most intrigued by this possibility, our God keeps in the shadows, keeps a low profile, and doesn’t intrude himself in our lives he loves us just that much. God’s hiddenness is a function of the very depth of his love. He gives us freedom; he respects our freedom. He wants us to love him freely, as he loves us freely. Only a God who truly loves us lets us say no to his amorous overtures.

Only parents know that frightening moment when they must let go of parental protection and show their ultimate love by letting their bird fly free. Parents don’t go with their children to college. Love lets go and allows its space to the beloved. God’s absence—in part anyway, I believe—is proof of that in our lives.

I heard a riddle the other day that I think speaks to this cat and mouse of God with his people. If God were to play hide ‘n’ seek with the world, where do you think God would hide? Any ideas? YES: he would hide everywhere!

So, all right. We’ve gotten this far. But many of us are hard to persuade. Skepticism is built into us. Will God make good his purpose for me? God doesn’t show his face; but surely I can get inkling, some hint, some love letter with my name on it! Why is God so hidden from me?

Answer #4:

The fourth and final answer I suggest this morning is perhaps the most radical of all. Suppose, just suppose, that God does not hide himself in the way that really matters to us—that is, that his presence is not remote and hidden due to his transcendence, moral superiority, or diffidence—but that we have simply not opened our eyes and seen the God who has been there all along. It is our idea of God that suffers. Is this not possibly in part why Jesus instructs his disciples not to spread the news that he is the Messiah because the generally understood idea of the Messiah is not the idea that Jesus was aiming to convey. He didn’t want folk to get the wrong idea!

Isn’t it true that the most important insights that have received in our lives are about things that have been staring us in the face all along, perhaps for years? Suddenly, something happens, and we see a situation in a new light. The scales fall away. The penny drops.

We know, or think we know, this much. God is not an old man with a beard inhabiting a space far away. So then, who is God? What is God? I cannot say for you. Only you can discover this and say it for you. But surely this God is not so much about something else as about a way of seeing what is already before us. God is that which wakes us up, turns on the light, overcomes our death. As a friend said to me recently, God will show itself if we insist on it. Not so much, “Show yourself, darn it!” More like “Ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” And, as the Zen master wrote, perhaps the door has been open all along and we just didn’t notice!

And the revelations are usually so innocent, so simple. God, it is likely to turn out, when the haze lifts and our spiritual cobwebs are swept away, to be a lot closer than we have ever guessed.

But there is the imperative to get with it. Sleepers, wake up! The command is to let this God in, the God who is with us to love us, to bring us peace and delight. And perhaps if someone scoffs and says, “No one has ever seen God,” we can reply, “They will have after they’ve seen our lives, how we love one another!”

Amen.

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, April 7, 2024, at 10:00 a.m.

Look at What I’ve/We’ve Been Missing!

“We have been reborn into the fellowship of Christ’s body.” (Collect, Easter II)

“How wonderful, how beautiful when brothers and sisters get along!” (Psalm 133:1)

“The infinite Life of God himself took shape before us. This is the message: God is light, pure light; there’s not a trace of darkness in him.” (I John 1:2, 5)

Last Sunday you may recall that I led us in a variation on the opening Easter acclamation. We started with “Alleluia! Christ is risen,” and you replied, “The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.”

But I wanted to get to the heart of things by having us add, first, “Alleluia! We are risen!” and you replied, “We are risen indeed. Alleluia!’ And third and finally, “Alleluia, I am risen.” And then you replied, “I am risen indeed. Alleluia.”

So, may we repeat this beautiful trilogy of ecstasies?

1. “Alleluia. Christ is risen…”

“The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.”

2. “Alleluia. We are risen…”

“We are risen indeed. Alleluia.”

3. “Alleluia. I am risen…”

“I am risen indeed. Alleluia.”

This is the heart and core of this Easter season and really all we need to proclaim.

Christ is risen, and this means we are risen, and I personally am risen.

And the title of my meditation this morning is “Look what I’ve been missing.”

Because every moment of our lives is compromised, made smaller, less joyful if we dismiss this notion or keep it on the back burner of our lives. It’s not that we must go through our days reciting this acclamation to ourselves. We’d probably be hospitalized or thought balmy if we did this. It’s that every moment of our day, every move we make, can be lived and informed knowing that life is good, life is beautiful and is meant to be affirmed always. Just like breathing, we don’t have to keep it at the top of our minds, but we’d better not forget it. Without breath we have no life!

But it is so easy to forget this affirmation.

Isn’t it a puzzle how so much of our lives is spent in sadness, stress, and suffering? Let’s look at just a few of the ways we drain the joy out of living.

Don’t we too often get wrapped up in the minutiae of our day-to-day routines and take everything so seriously. It can be a challenge. This is the tax time of the year, and I, for one, have no accounting abilities and dread putting all the figures together. So, I hired an accountant. My friends tell me to use TurboTax, but no thank you, no thank you!

And what about all those annoyances with other people that create resentments? Boy, can we spend a lot of time fuming and fighting in our minds about what so-and-so has done to us. Poor us, poor put-upon us! Yes, I can carry grudges. I wonder how many annoyances like this can be avoided by slowing down and asking how serious are they? Do we really want to make Federal cases over something, that time, a kind word, or simply forgetting about it will not fix? People can kill each other over what sometimes starts as a minor grievance. Wars start over things that one side finds “unacceptable.”

“This is so beyond the limits of what I can stand that I’m going to start an all-out war with you!” Is this stupid and sick? Yes, but aren’t most wars a little like this?

And, last example, how much of our day, our week, our years are spent in worry. Of course, as citizens we are concerned about a lot of things. We cast our votes in hopes that our representatives will carry out our wishes for our city, state and country. But if we keep CNN or MSNBC on a lot, we’ll wind up in a constant and high state of complaining and worrying. This can’t be good for our health. For how much of what we worry about do we have any power over? A lot, some, a little, none?

So, I’ve laid out a few of the activities that prevent us from breathing free, laughing out loud and enjoying this brief journey called life.

Do we forget what we are missing? 

Life is short. As someone in his eighth decade of life, I not only realize how short this life is, but I realize how many minutes and hours I can fritter away in useless activities like resentments and worry. My mother once told me that I would go in the bathroom one morning, look in the mirror and exclaim, “My goodness, I’m old!”

I can imagine that some of you have had such a startling insight. It is not designed to get us down, but to awaken us to the preciousness of every day we breathe on this earth. In the grander scheme of things, our life is as short as that of a firefly.

The tragedy of wasted time in resentments and worry is how we diminish the time we could be loving. This isn’t sentimental hogwash; it is to point out and recognize just how profoundly we all need and want to be loved. I love being loved, don’t you? And the first person who needs to love me is me! And if I am deficient in loving myself, the chances of my loving you are similarly diminished. And if you have the same need to be loved as I do, then what am I waiting for? The clock is ticking and love is a-waiting! Let’s get on with it.

Isn’t this what the Resurrection is proclaiming? That love overcomes strife; that life outstrips bitterness and complaining. That except for our ignorance and belligerence, love would be much more conspicuous all around us.

How much we love being loved. So, we might as well keep it up. No one is telling us not to!

And notice how far honesty can go. Have you noticed how much love can flourish when we are honest with one another? We don’t lose out on anything by being honest. Notice that it tends to move us forward. We go to the doctor, tell our friends what is really on our minds. Life flows. It may be painful; it may be difficult, but life flows when honesty flows.

I heard the other day that we have one of two possible responses to life at any moment. Yes! or No! Yes is the Resurrection. It was how Christ faced his own death. It is how we live when we shout yes. It is not always easy; it is not always without its cost. But it is the way of life, and finally of joy. Am I not right?

What do you think? We shout “YES” because we have been yes-ed into existence and our God shouts yes at us, whether we are up or down. This is the unconditional love that lies at the heart of our faith.

I close with a lovely poem called “Millennium Blessing” by Stephen Levine. It speaks to the joy that it is present now and that stretches beyond our mortal life. All we need to do is shout “YES” to all of it!

There is a grace approaching

that we shun as much as death,

it is the completion of our birth.

It does not come in time,

…….but in timelessness

when the mind sinks into the heart

and we remember.

It is insistent grace that draws us

to the edge and beckons us surrender

safe territory and enter our enormity.

We know we must pass

…….beyond knowing

and fear the shedding.

But we are pulled upward

…….none-the-less

through forgotten ghosts

…….and unexpected angels,

luminous.

And there is nothing left to say

but we are That.

And that is what we sing about.

Amen.

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, March 31, 2024, at 10:00 a.m.

Christ Is Risen!We Are Risen!

“Thank God, because he’s good, because his love never quits. Tell the world, Israel, {no, tell the world, you in Fort Lee!] God’s love never quits.” (Instruction from verse 1 in Psalm 118, Message Translation)

“…that we may evermore live with him in the joy of his resurrection.” (Collect, Easter Sunday)

We have just sung my favorite Easter hymn, and I’m so glad we placed it at the opening of this glorious service this morning. “Jesus Christ is risen today!” It says it all, doesn’t it, in one concise phrase? And do you recall the acclamation that is common at this time of the year? I announce, “Alleluia! Christ is risen.” And you reply, “The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!” Isn’t that powerful? But my theme this morning goes even further to the core of the thing. We can also proclaim, can’t we: I can say, “Alleluia! we are risen!” and you can reply, “We are risen indeed! Alleluia!”

Now if we are a bit uncomfortable making such a claim, I want to break us in a bit. I am going to say, “Alleluia! we are risen.” And then we will please reply, “We are risen indeed! Alleluia!” Are you ready? Here goes. “Alleluia! We are risen indeed!” [And the reply comes: “We are risen indeed! Alleluia!”] I might have even preferred for us to say, “I am risen indeed,” instead of “We are risen indeed.” For both are true. We and I are/am risen indeed.

I hope you might be a little startled, even uneasy making such a claim. But if this Easter event does not invade and inform our own personal lives, then I wonder if it doesn’t remain some distant, even half-forgotten and more often ignored event, an event that we bring out once a year and salute like we do the flag on the Fourth of July.

And I wonder how many sermons throughout the world this season talk about the event of Jesus’s resurrection as an event of the long-ago past—when?—in the year 33 anno domini, A.D. They now call A.D. dates CE, meaning “common era.” I’m scrambling to keep up with what is called what these days. However we date it, Jesus’s resurrection is said to have occurred many, many years ago. That date certainly ushered in the Christian era, followed by four beautiful accounts of Jesus’s life and some spectacular letters, particularly from a man named Saul, renamed Paul after his conversion. All of this we can study and learn on our own or in Bible study classes.

But how does what happened back then intersect with our lives? What, in other words, does the Resurrection mean to you? Is it something you carry in your heart? Does it guide and motivate your day? I’m afraid, if we are honest and if I am honest, that this central event of the Christian story may be tucked away on a dusty shelf of our lives and referred to only occasionally, at this time of the year or on the occasion of the death of a loved one.

I want to make two points that might aid in to bring this idea more front and center for us. First, the Resurrection, whatever it means, is not primarily about something that might or will occur after our death. After all, the hymn says, “Jesus Christ is risen today!” Present tense. This is not just commemoration. It is speaking of what is true right here, right now, in our faces. And the second point is that this Resurrection does not just include Jesus, but us as well. The Resurrection is about us, here and now. The Eucharist meal celebrates our life in Christ, as a perpetual, eternal thing bearing down in and through every single moment of our lives, the happy one and the sad ones.

In the slap dab middle of our Communion Prayer we proclaim, “Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again.” Well, I hope we occasionally ask what this is all about. It is about something happening now. I translate it: “Christ died and shows us that he continues to die. He dies with us as we die. He dies with the children of Gaza as they die. He dies with all those who are forlorn and heavy laden.” Christ himself is with us. And then we say, “Christ is risen.” We do not say, “Christ was risen.” The proclamation is in the present tense. We see in our faith hallelujahs written across history, in our current events, in every single life lived now, whether nominally Christian or not. Christ did not just come for the Jews and Christians. His message is either universal or it is sentimental twaddle. And the third rung of this proclamation: “Christ will come again.” Do you read this as an apocalyptic prediction that Jesus will come back, riding on something or other at the end of time? Good for you if you believe that. I think a lot of our fellow Christians are a long way from thinking like this. “Christ will come again” means to me that Christ is not just in my present but in my future. I can face tomorrow knowing that God is with me. This is what my faith and hope are about. A love that will not let me go.

Now this intersection of the Resurrection in our lives, which simultaneously includes not just the Christ but every single one of us, is something I dare to believe isn’t so foreign to us. In fact, in our heart of hearts we know it, not in the sense of book knowledge but in the sense in which a good friend “knows” his friend.

I’ll close and suggest that each of us reflect on one or two occasions in our lives when the door opens onto what Resurrection is about. Like the rolling away of the rock from the tomb. I had a small but beautiful incident the other day when I was in Richmond for the funeral of the brother of a friend. The family and I were eating dinner, and I just casually asked the daughter of the deceased a question. “Do you think that your father is somehow still with us, that he hasn’t gone anywhere?” And to my amazement, she and her husband both nodded their heads. Ask your friends who have lost loved ones what I asked or ask yourself. These little insights open a new way of viewing our lives. That Resurrection is real, that it is present, and that we know it! Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen, indeed. Alleluia.

Amen.

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, February 4, 2024, at10:00 a.m.

You Light Up My Life!

“Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundation of the earth? Lift up your eyes on high and see; who created these?” (Isaiah 41:21,26 )

“God counts the number of the stars and calls them all by their names.” (Psalm 147:4)

“And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message.” (Mark 1:39)

There was something very, very different and special about this Galilean Jesus. It was clear from the beginning, not just from the actual birth, when wise men followed a star to a cow stall and his birth cradle, but as he grew into a precocious child, when those in the synagogue were astonished at his teaching. And it wasn’t long before he had gathered a faithful band of disciples and was performing cures of the sick. Along with the laying on of hands Christ was compelled to proclaim the message.

And what was that message? It is the same message that we hear today, the message that draws us in as awestruck worshippers. And the message is that we are light, we come from and reflect the light of Christ. Everything he said and everything he did was to illustrate for those around him that he, as light, was conferring light on those he touched. “I am the light of the world” is perhaps the clearest statement about who he was. And even more wonderful, he said, “You are the light of the world!” That’s you and me.

Do we believe it, that we, you are I, are the light of the world.” I will suggest that every single moment of happiness and gratitude that we live illustrates this reality. Too good to be true? You betcha! And every bit of discouragement, drawing back from the beauty and enticements of life stem from a turning away from the reality and doubting just who and what we are.  That’s why so many of Jesus’ sayings are to encourage us, to lift us from our sadness and pessimism. Even as we look the horrors of the world in the face (and there are plenty of horrors to look at), Jesus says, “Cheer up, for I have overcome the world. Be of good courage. You have only one commandment love me and those around you as you love yourself.”

A light that shines both has light as its source but radiates outward onto what it shines, and this thing or person shined on takes on the qualities of that light. The Transfiguration, therefore, tells us much about who Jesus was, but also tells us similarly about ourselves on whom the light of Christ shines.

Similarly, if I were to ask you where this light on us today comes from, you will probably say, “Why, from the sun.” Yes, that’s true. And we know that there are millions upon millions of suns out there. That’s a lot of light. And we could continue and ask, “Where does the light from our sun come from,” and I’ll bet we don’t come up with a ready answer.

So, this God of ours, comes from we-know-not-where but emerges in the person of Jesus, who was so full of light he was transfigured and whose light was so great, that we reflect in our very being this same light.

I’ve had a gladsome time this season reflecting and singing about light. It’s a main theme of the Epiphany season; and, come to think of it, light is a prominent theme of Advent and Christmas as well.

So, I’m in a singing mood again, as I hope you are as well. First, just quietly look around you at those of us beside and near you today. See them as light, as reflective of God’s very light. For that is who they are!

Let’s begin with a song we sang at the beginning of the month. It’s so much fun and represents the life of joy of our life in Christ.

Our lives are a zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a, for just by breathing and particularly as we acknowledge the source of our life, there is “plenty of sunshine headed our way.” Bathed in light; bathed in glory!

Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah

 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 My, oh my, what a wonderful day
 Plenty of sunshine headin’ my way
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 
 Mister Bluebird’s on my shoulder
 It’s the truth, it’s actual
 Ev’rything is satisfactual
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 Wonderful feeling, wonderful day, yes sir!
 
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 My, oh my, what a wonderful day
 Plenty of sunshine headin’ my way
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 
 Mister Bluebird’s on my shoulder
 It’s the truth, it’s actual
 Ev’rything is satisfactual
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 Wonderful feeling, feeling this way
 

Next, let’s sing “This little light of mine; I’m going to let it shine.” That we are conduits of God’s light. This is the enlightenment that truly enlightens, urging us to see everything in a new light, bathed in the love and grace of God itself.

So, seeing ourselves and those around us as bathed in the light of God lifts even the everyday and humdrum into a whole new or newly understood place.

This Little Light of Mine

This little light of mine,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 This little light of mine,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 This little light of mine,
 I’m gonna let it shine,
 let it shine, let it shine, oh let it shine.

Ev’rywhere I go,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 Ev’rywhere I go,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 Ev’rywhere I go,
 I’m gonna let it shine,
 let it shine, let it shine, oh let it shine.

Jesus gave it to me,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 Jesus gave it to me,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 Jesus gave it to me,
 I’m gonna let it shine,
 let it shine, let it shine, oh let it shine.

I know, I know, all this can be particularly challenging when we live in a world that seems to thrive on conflict and war. We today are witnessing the most egregious example of genocide in decades, under the endorsement and okay of our own country and its leaders. The demonstrations in this country and worldwide are encouraging and speak to a popular uprising of revulsion over what is happening. We as Christians must pray and attend to this important crisis.

And, finally, for our last song, let’s look this morning much closer to home and at those who have lit up and even now may light up our lives. I daresay we will discover that there are lot more of these people than we might at first acknowledge.

Who is someone that you can think of right now of whom you can say, “You light up my life.” It could be someone in your past or someone today. I know you have such people. I hope you have many such people!

And don’t forget that these lights in our lives needn’t be people. They can be a book that influenced you profoundly; a piece of art you saw in a museum or art book; or a piece of music (classical, jazz or popular) that still sits in your memory. For remember, those books, art works and pieces of music were created by people, and indirectly, they, too, are lights in your life.

I would love to hear your stories about these things that have lit or are now lighting up your life. They will tell me a great deal about you, won’t they? For their lights, the lights you recall, light up your life now.

Which takes us back to singing. This time let’s try one a little bit harder, a song made popular by Debbie Boone.

YOU LIGHT UP MY LIFE

So many nights I’d sit by my window
 Waiting for someone to sing me his song
 So many dreams I kept deep inside me
 Alone in the dark but now You’ve come along

And You light up my life
 You give me hope to carry on
 You light up my days and fill my nights with song

Rollin’ at sea, adrift on the water
 Could it be finally I’m turnin’ for home?
 Finally a chance to say, “Hey, I love You”
 Never again to be all alone

‘Cause You light up my life
 You give me hope to carry on
 You light up my days and fill my nights with song

‘Cause You, You light up my life
 You give me hope to carry on
 You light up my days and fill my nights with song

It can’t be wrong
 When it feels so right
 ‘Cause You
 You light up my life,        

AMEN.

Sermon Delivered at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey,
Pentecost XVII, October 2, 2022, at 8:00 &10:00 a.m.
By Rev. Stephen Galleher

EVER NEAR, NEVER FAR

“Take delight in the Lord,*
and he shall give you your heart’s desire.
Be still before the Lord *
And wait patiently for him.”

(Psalm 37:4,7)
“Recalling your tears, I long to see you so that I
may be filled with joy.” (II Tim.2:4)
Good morning! Do you remember as a
child in grade school how your teacher, to
take attendance, would call you by name, and
you would answer, “Present!” or “Here!” An
innocent enough response, right?—but a very
powerful statement about the reality of the
moment. That you had shown up, were sitting
in your seat, and ready to be counted.

And of all the words to describe the reality,
the stark, beautiful reality of the God we
worship, there are few words, I believe, as
powerful as the word “presence.” Nothing
remote or aloof about this God—no, siree!
Not an abstraction, not a concept, not
something to note and yawn over, like the
hypotenuse of a triangle. God’s presence is
something we experience.
I was discussing with some retired clergy
friends of mine last Tuesday (Wade Renn
among them!) and we all agreed that God’s
presence is the lens through which all of
scripture comes alive, in contrast to just some

ideas on a page, or comments about the
historic past.
It is said so superbly in our psalm
this morning. Despite all the song of woe
and the lamentations, we are told to “Take
delight in the Lord.” By being patient, we
somehow know that God is near. He is
everpresent, even in times of deepest
trouble and sorrow. With such a posture,
God will give us our heart’s desire!
Like a bird unfolds its winds to protect the
fledgling in the nest. This is a protection
of love, a promise of perpetual presence.
Wow: that’s pretty thrilling statement of a
God, who loves us to this extent.

Let’s look a minute further at the
pervasiveness of this God of presence.
Remember the word Shekinah from the
Old Testament. It meant the dwelling
place of God. “The Lord is in his holy
temple; let all the earth keep silence
before him.” The burning bush and the
cloud that rested on Mount Sinai. Whether
a cloud or a pillar of fire: these images
were images of the glory of God. What
made them “glorious” was that they point
to a God who is in our midst, not off at
some board meeting.
“Wherever two or three are gathered
together in my name, there am I in their

midst.” (Matthew 18:20) Isn’t this the meaning of
the Jewish shiva? The family of a
departed Jewish person sits shiva after the
burial. This is when friends come to just
be present with the grieving family. What
a beautiful idea. Just to be with them. No
obligation to say anything (words that are
so often strained and clichéd). No
requirement to heap gifts or money on the
bereaved. Just to spend some time with
them. Wasn’t it tragic, during the worst of
COVID, that loved ones were left to die
alone in hospitals, away from family
members?

And the 23 rd Psalm, “Yay, though I
walk the valley of the shadow of death, I
fear no evil, for you are with me.” It is no
accident that this, perhaps the most quoted
psalm, for its quiet comfort to those in
pain and particularly salvific to those
walking to imminent execution.
Another of my favorite pieces of
scripture is the story in Daniel of
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.
Remember as these three men were
thrown into a fiery furnace by
Nebuchadnezzar because they refused to
bow down to the king’s image, they were
saved from death by a fourth figure

walking with them in the flames; and this
fourth man “was like a son of God.”
When we think of presence, we think
of quiet assurance, a certain something
that evokes security and continuity.
Perhaps one of the reasons for Queen
Elizabeth II’s popularity, as demonstrated
during the last fortnight, is her quiet
presence amidst the tumult of world
events. This calm posture assures us of a
longed-for stability and continuity.
Similarly, the role of ambassadors is to
stand for the sovereignty of a country,
being a kind of apolitical figure, speaking
rarely on particular policies unless as a

spokesperson and messenger for the chief
executive of the country they represent.
The presence of God means little
until it is experienced by you and me. And
I ask you to consider those moments in
your life when this presence was felt most
intensely. One such a moment for me was
when I visited the Grand Canyon a few
years ago. It was a clear, beautiful Sunday
morning in winter. Few tourists were
about. As my friend and I stopped at the
first pullover, we walked the twenty-five
or so yards to the rim to see the view. It
was one of the most special moments of
my life. The beauty, the grandeur, and

(perhaps most of all) the silence. No
photograph or video can come anywhere
close to the experience of being there. I
cannot imagine anyone, even a hardcore
atheist, not being struck by the wonder of
God’s presence. And the message is that
this revelation of presence spills over to
all of God’s creation. Not one spot is
excluded. And the important thing is that
having been there to see this teaches me
that this Grand Canyon is always there. It
is a reminder that all things come of God
and reveal God’s glory. Look at the cover
of our bulletin this morning. Meister’s

beautiful saying is there: “Between God
and Me there I no ‘Between.’”
What is the best thing a person can
give another human being?
“Presents/Presence.”
I ask myself, and I ask you to ask
yourself, “Where can I go from God’s
presence?” When we look at any other
person, a flower, a honeybee, a
mountain—anything—we see the
incarnation of God’s love for us and the
universe we call home. Is not God
reaching through the veil of our
nearsightedness and revealing his/her
smiling face? If we do not experience

God’s presence here and now, where will
we experience it, just when will be
experience it? Amen.

Sermon Delivered at Church of the Good Shepherd”
Fort Lee, New Jersey,
Pentecost XIII, September 4, 2022, at 10:00 a.m.
By the Rev. Stephen Galleher

HOORAY FOR DISAPPOINTMENT!

“1 Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor
lingered in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seats of the scornful!
2 Their delight is in the law of the LORD, and they meditate on his law day and
night.
3 They are like trees planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in due season,
with leaves that do not wither; everything they do shall prosper.
(Psalm 1:1-3)
“See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity.”
(Deuteronomy 30:15)

Have you ever had one of those days where everything seemed to
go amiss. Nothing serious may have happened. Your physical health
remained ok. No auto accident or things like that. Just everything else,
from leaving your phone inside when you go out, to potholes and
detours on your way to the store. to people driving too slowly, blocking
you at every step of the way, to long lines, unpleasant store clerks, to
just about everything. At least it feels that way.
Now I hope that I’m talking to a relatively mature congregation this
morning and that I am speaking with a serene, accepting, smiling group

of people. I do admire you. And I. too, have been like. At times! I say
“at times,” for it is those other times, when I am an infantile brat,
kicking and screaming about the way my life is unfolding. These things
that bother me, from childhood to adulthood I would like to reflect on
with you a few minutes. I am talking about disappointment, and I title
this little meditation “Hooray for Disappointment!”
Wouldn’t it be great if our lives unfolded just as we wish them to
and just as we would expect? I think even 2-year-olds have learned that
this is just not the way it is. Mommy doesn’t come just when our diapers
demand it; that cookie we are reaching for does not arrive on time. And
that spoon we use to beat on the table of our highchair just doesn’t get
answered. Wah, wah, waah! Poor little Stevie, poor little Johnny, poor
little Mary. We all know the sting of disappointment.
Disappointments result from expectations not being met. We expect
the electricity to be working when we get home in the evening. We
expect our partner to remain loyal to us. We expect a higher level of ease
and comfort in our retirement years. The pain and discomfort from
unmet expectations amount to mild irritation or resentment and anger to

disgruntlement and discouragement—depending, of course, on how
earnestly we hold these expectations. The point, of course, is not to
judge our disappointments (“I shouldn’t feel like that!” “How immature
of me to feel that way”) That only worsens the situations. It is important
instead only to become aware or remind ourselves that we are simply not
getting what we want: what we expect to happen just isn’t happening. I
can excuse myself like the guy who said, “I am very disappointed in
gravity. It always lets me down!”
And let’s be real: life is full of disappointments. I haven’t met
anyone who claims never to have had any. If I wanted to, I could list two
dozen disappointments I experience even before I get to the kitchen to
eat my breakfast.
Now what I have just suggested takes me to a powerful insight I had
the other day when thinking about disappointments.
Disappointments are nothing other than my labeling a situation that
arises in my life. What’s one person’s “disappointment” is another
person’s “opportunity.” You yourself must admit that many of our lives’

so-called, so-labeled disappointments were really blessings that we did
not recognize until later in life.
Disappointments, then, are on us. We are doing nothing but
describing something that happens to us. It is neither a failure nor a
success. It just is! I know this is easier said than lived. There is a
negative side to us that wants to be down a lot. There was a cartoon I
saw recently of a guy with a tee shirt that read: “I’ve given up all
expectations and I’m still disappointed.” Almost anything can be a
disappointment, as in this little poem called “Almost Perfect.”
Cloudless sky
Perfumed breeze
Open doors
Glistering emerald green
Buzzes in, [A butterfly!]
On transparent wings —
Lands on lunch!
As much as we might want to pin the blame on other people or
circumstances for our disappointment, much of our discouragement

stems from our own self-criticism. Perhaps if we were a bit kinder to
ourselves, we’d be a little less eager to talk about how others have
disappointed us.
But think how things change when we give up expecting and
rehearsing all the so-called “disappointments” we have experienced. On
one level it’s as simply as relabeling! We can turn from a cynic, an
Eeyore from the Winnie the Pooh stories, to a joyful person, greeting
everything in our lives as a gift. Because everything in our lives comes,
in fact, as a gift, doesn’t it? Things we work for, things we don’t work
for: all show out of the blue; and the only finally useful attitude is
gratitude, not disgruntlement.
The thing this topic asks of us is, “How free do you want to be?
How happy do you want to be?” I think many of us think there is
nothing we can do about our discouraging attitude. We are stuck and
think we are doomed to remain that way.
I love the old song, “Home on the Range.”
O give me a home, where the buffalo roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play;

Where seldom is heard a discouragin’ word
And the skies are not cloudy all day. …
And this lesser-known verse:
How often at night, when the heavens are bright,
With the lights from the glitterin’ stars,
Have I stood here amazed, and asked as I gazed
If their glory exceeds that of ours?
Let’s look around us. Isn’t there plenty to be amazed at? How much
time need we waste on disappointment. Sure, there is plenty we could
point to if we want to shift focus.
In conclusion, there are many strategies we can learn to turn around
a day in which everything seems to go amiss. Acceptance is a big tool,
but mine is a kind of combination of acceptance and mindfulness.
Mindfulness sounds like a big word, but it is really a very simple
word. Just observe yourself. Watch yourself go through the chain of
emotions. Like you’re in a movie theater watching others act out. I find
that when I do this—when I just note my feelings ebb and flow, arise

and disperse—I don’t get so involved. I’m like a kind spectator of my
day.
Living this way can be its own kind of bliss.
I believe we are meant to be happy, meant to live free. And the
Gospel of Christ proclaims these prizes are here, now for the taking.
Christ has died; Christ is risen. We too can live alongside the one who
promises this for us and for all who wish to take part.
Come join the dance.
Amen.

Sermon Delivered at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey,
Pentecost, August 7, 2022, at 10:00 a.m.
By The Rev. Stephen Galleher

Do You Hear What I Hear?

“Do you hear what I hear, said the night wind to the little lamb?”                            (Christmas Song)

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

                                              (Luke 12:32)

How you ever considered just how much listening you do in your life? However much we listen or however well we listen, we do one heck of a lot of it. It’s no wonder that we may not be too excited to listen, really listen, to the sounds and voices closest to us.

          Haven’t you turned the TV off at night when the commentators go on and on and on about the events of the day? We can grow cynical about just how much wisdom or lack thereof they are giving us. Even good music, sometimes when we are listening, we just say to ourselves, “Enough already!” And we turn it off, and the music ceases. Whew!

        But it’s scary what we might hear if we only listened better.

        There was a man in a mental hospital. All day he would put his ear to the wall and listen. The doctor would watch the guy do this day after day for months. Finally, the doctor decided to see what this man was listening to, so one day he approached the wall and put his own ear up to the wall and listened. He heard nothing.

        He turned to the mental patient and said, “I don’t hear anything!”

        The mental patient replied, “Yeah, I know. It’s been like that for months!”

        It’s really a shame when you think about it. Do we really listen when we’re listening? Or are we too busy framing what we are going to say in reply? That we will give advice, say something cleverer that what we have just heard and show ourselves more knowledgeable? Don’t we regret not hearing something important that said to us in the past? It could have made a huge difference to the rest of our lives.

       I really enjoy the Christmas song, “Do you hear what I hear?” I like it because it calls our attention to just how much we might be missing by listening more closely to the words of scripture. We recall that listening was the original way that Christians absorbed the words of the Bible. It was not until the invention of the printing press and general literacy that folk could read what that had formerly only been hearing. It was a wonderful advancement for sure, but it also entailed a loss. For serious hearing, serious listening can have an impact that reading may not. Why do we love drama so much? The Bible is full of drama. It is primarily a book of poetry, of romance, history and ecstasy. When we listen, our heads tend to be upraised, fully attentive.

       Do you hear what I hear? Do we hear what is proclaimed to us? Speaking for myself, I’d hate to confess the number of great things I miss hearing, especially in scripture. The Bible is a book of proclamation, of good news, of consolation, hope, joy. I believe if I listened more closely to the incessant drumbeat through the words of God’s love, I might just take all this glory more to heart.

          Today’s Gospel, for example, sneaks in a little sentence that it would be easy to miss. It is this: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Wow! Can we hear this, really hear it? That God gives to every one of us the kingdom. You, me and everyone we know and even those we don’t know are given the freedom to walk nobly about in this beautiful land of love.

          But this is just one of the lesser well-known things that God proclaims to us if we but listen.

          “You are the light of the world” I will pause briefly after this familiar passages. Do you hear what I hear?

Or this: “What’s the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail—even numbering the hairs on your head! So don’t be intimidated by this talk about canaries. You’re worth more than a million canaries.”
          Do you hear what I hear?

“Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” 

(Joshua 1:9)

       “Behold, the tabernacle of God is with us, and God will dwell with us, and we shall be God’s people. And God will wipe away every tear from our eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain.” (Revelation 21:3-4)

       “Or do you not realize about yourselves that Jesus Christ is in you?” (II Cor. 13:5)

          “Now God has us where he wants us, with all the time in this world and the next to shower grace and kindness upon us in Christ Jesus. Saving is all his idea, and all his work. All we do is trust him enough to let him do it. It’s God’s gift from start to finish! We don’t play the major role. If we did, we’d probably go around bragging that we’d done the whole thing! No, we neither make nor save ourselves. God does both the making and saving. He creates each of us by Christ Jesus to join him in the work he does, the good work he has gotten ready for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:7-10)

          This beautiful passage is from a translation called the Message Bible. I recommend you read it. It makes so many passages come alive that they never have before. Do you hear, really hear?

          The ability to listen is one of the greatest gifts we can be given, and it is one of the greatest gifts we can give others. When we listen well, we are listening very intently with respect even reverence to those who are speaking. It’s a sacred act, to listen.

          What do you do when you are listening to those who speak too much or too long? This is a complicated question, but I know people like that? Such people for me are challenges. Can I continue to listen? Can I continue to show them respect, even reverence? The challenge is for me to grow up and stop getting only what I want. Most people want to be listened to. Some very much hunger to be really listened to. Then my job is to listen, to really listen.

          Isn’t the job of all of us to “listen with the ear of the heart”?

       Amen.