Healing
Dear Friends,
In the Old Testament reading this week (2 Kings 5:1-14) there’s a general, Naaman, who is suffering from leprosy. He finds out there is a prophet (Elisha) who has the gift of healing, so he goes to visit him.
Elisha tells him to wash in the Jordan seven times in order to be healed. Instead of Naaman being grateful for the instructions, “Naaman became angry and went away, saying, ‘I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not…the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?’ He turned and went away in a rage.” (2 Kings 5:11-12)
Naaman was eventually healed by (spoiler-alert) actually following what the prophet instructed. But why was he so mad to begin with?
Naaman was a commander for the king of Aram. He was a powerful and influential man, accustomed to giving orders, not taking them. In order for him to get better he had to undergo the death of his ego, which can be an emotional undertaking.
Without getting too technical, the general idea of “ego death” is that each time we practice non-attachment, we become a little more enlightened. And it is our egos that we are most attached to, because they give us our identities and senses of self. We can never totally destroy our egos (and wouldn’t want to), but we can practice quieting their need to be in control or the center of attention.
This is easier said than done, and I imagine it will take us a lifetime of learning to let go; that has been the case for me at least. Perhaps what we will eventually find, much like Naaman did, is restoration, not in how we demand it happens, but in God’s own time and in God’s own way.
In Christ,
Anthony+
The Demoniac
Dear Friends,
In this week’s Gospel reading (Luke 8:26-39) Jesus encounters a man possessed with demons who lives in the tombs, naked. Jesus helps restore the man back to sanity, and news quickly spreads around the city.
“Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid.” (Lk. 8:35)
The people were so frightened they ended up asking Jesus to leave. The great irony in this story, is that in spite of the demoniac who lived among them, the townspeople preferred the old way rather than a new way of being.
As our country spirals further into inner socio-political turmoil, as well as escalating global tensions, this all feels uncomfortably familiar. Before societal fear was aimed primarily towards immigrants and the LGBT community, it was black people (along with the LGBT community), and before that it was Moslems. Of course, these “old” fears never really leave; they simply get repackaged and recycled for another politician’s demagoguery.
When fear mixed with tribalism drowns out rationality and empathy, then, like the townspeople of Jesus’s day, we too seek to drive out agents of change. However, fear of the “other,” cannot be driven out, because the issue is internal. And until we (as a country) choose to face and address those familiar “demons” of racism, xenophobia, and violence, then, not only will social unrest continue to be the norm, but it has every potential to collapse further into chaos
Christ have mercy.
Sincerely,
Anthony+
True Wealth
As some of you know I went on a cruise with my family last week to celebrate my parents’ 50th Anniversary! It was the first cruise that I’ve been on and overall, it was a nice time! I did have a bit of an existential crisis, though. Well, maybe not a “crisis” per se, but I definitely experienced a lot of angst.
The cruise was all-inclusive and passengers were free to eat, drink, or find some other activity to partake in, to their heart’s content. Which made me wonder ‘when’ exactly, is our heart content? Even with the all-inclusive nature of the cruise, there’s always upgrades available: a more exclusive sitting area near the pool; top shelf drinks; and suites with better views of the ocean. I was quite uncomfortably aware of the privilege I had that millions will never get to experience.
One of the lectionary readings this week is the familiar story of “The Tower of Babel” in Genesis. Instead of “replenishing the earth” as God commanded, humanity chose to build a city with “a tower with its top in the heavens,” and we have continued in that vein. We build taller buildings, seek faster service, abhor inconvenience, and want more stuff and experiences. While none of these things are intrinsically wrong, they are also not where we will find contentment. It may make life more pleasurable, but at what cost?
Always having fast service cannot teach me patience, quite the opposite. I can easily become impatient when things aren’t happening fast as I would like. Inconveniences can teach us humility, a reminder that we are not at the center of the universe. And acquiring more stuff and experiences leaves us wanting “more stuff and experiences.”
As we enter into the Season of Pentecost, we are reminded of the outpouring of God’s Spirit on the community who eventually becomes the church. One of the remarkable aspects of the early church is how those who were wealthy shared with followers who had less. They discovered true wealth is found in giving.
Likewise, it wasn’t the amenities or spending time in the Caribbean (although that is a close second) that meant the most to me; rather, it was being able to spend time with family and celebrate my parents that I cherish. And is in many ways priceless and doesn’t require a cruise, though I am nevertheless very grateful for the experience.
Change Is Nothing New
Message from Rev. Anthony
Hello friends,
Last week I figured it was time to trade-in my old Honda Civic for a newer (albeit, used) car. Just in time for my birthday (May 1st)!
After checking out the latest Toyota Prius, and A LOT of back and forth with Carvana (which I do not recommend), I decided to get my money back and go to a more traditional car lot. I even went in a completely different direction with my vehicle of choice.
I am getting a Tesla. There, I said it.
It used to be (like only a year ago) saying, “you were getting a Tesla” gave off the vibe you are an environmentally conscious, yuppie. And now Tesla owners are placing disparaging Elon Musk bumper stickers on their cars to show they are not ‘fascist.’ It’s bewildering how much can change in such a short amount of time. My choice in getting one was quite practical really (lower cost, save on gas). Like many Tesla drivers I am no more a fan of Elon than iPhone users are fans of child labor. Most companies have “blood on their hands.”
Nevertheless, the larger reflection I have is on change. Change is nothing new. For instance, in the Book of Acts, there is a lot of change happening. There were Jews who were following, “The Way” and preaching controversial ideas at the time such as: eating non-kosher food, accepting gentiles, and deprioritizing circumcision. These and other factors became a major conflict amongst the early church, and they never really got over it, which is one of the reasons Christianity became its own “thing” instead of being a sect under Judaism.
Meanwhile, our world is changing at a breakneck, speed; that deepens our polarization towards each other. Many people are looking for a sense of stability in a volatile, technocratic society where key institutions are being upended.
Which is all the more reason to appreciate this week’s familiar Psalm 23 scripture, “The Lord is my shepherd…He makes me lie down in green pastures, and leads me besides still waters.” Sheep can be anxious animals. They do not have natural defenses against predators and rely on the shepherd to protect them. While the analogy of us being sheep can seem paternalistic, the psalmist suggests that in God, we have a means to which we can center and ground ourselves. And in a world that is in flux, that connection with God is more important than ever.
In Christ,
Anthony+
God Always Has a Plan
Message from Rev. Anthony
Dear Friends,
Ever since I moved into my apartment last year, I have been having issues with my neighbors regarding the noise level late at night. This past weekend it escalated, and I will spare the details, but they include me having to call the police and even getting a camera installed.
I am quite literally trying to “love my neighbor” and not “my neighbor,” as in the ‘Good Samaritan’ story. This is more like the, “love your enemies”-type-of-neighbor. And wow, can that be challenging.
As we approach Palm Sunday, many of us are familiar with The Passion Gospel readings, that detail the events leading up to Jesus’s death. He was mocked, slapped, spit on, flogged, and of course, crucified. As he was on the cross, a criminal who was hanging beside him said, “If you’re the Messiah, save yourself and us.” The other criminal, however, said to him, “Shut up (I’m paraphrasing) we are getting what we deserve, but this man is innocent.”
Although I’d like to identify with the second criminal on the cross, I must say I relate to the first one in many ways. “Hey, you’re the ‘Son of God;’ do something about this terrible situation.” I say this in part about my troubling neighbors, but moreso regarding the challenges in our world as a whole. Yet, God seemingly does nothing. I say “seemingly” because I believe (most of the time) that God has a plan, even when we can’t see it.
This is not the most popular message, since we are taught that we are “the hands and feet of Christ” and that “God helps those who help themselves.” While both of those views have truth to them, they are incomplete without the recognition that there are circumstances that we are powerless to change and must rely on God to help us.
And it’s easy to believe in God when things are going well, but if I am hanging from a cross and God does nothing, well that is an entirely different type of faith. One that loves our neighbors and our enemies (or at least tries to) and continues to believe that ultimately Light will overcome darkness, even if it has to transcend death in order to do it!
In Christ,
Anthony+
I Am Who I Am
Dear friends,
Although this upcoming Sunday only marks our halfway point through the Lenten Season, this week’s OT lectionary reading (Exodus 3:1-15) made me think of Holy Week. It’s the familiar story of "Moses and the Burning Bush." I have memories of the scene from Cecil B. DeMille’s classic film, The Ten Commandments, with Charleston Heston timidly approaching an ember, glowing “burning bush” (laden with special-effects).
God charges Moses to deliver his people from Egypt, and then Moses inquires, “When people ask, ‘Who sent me’ what name should I give them?” God responds, “I Am Who I Am.”
It’s a bit of a peculiar response. “I Am,” translates from the Hebrew word hāyâ (Yahweh) and means: to be, become, come to pass, exist, happen, fall out. Pretty confusing stuff.
The truth is we say confusing stuff all the time in church, such as the Gloria Patria. "Glory be to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end." It’s a doxology confessing a God who is one-in-three and three-in-one, who abides in-and-out of a timeless cycle. (Insert head-scratching emoji)
Aside from all this theological pondering, is the simple question, “Who is God?” And the honest answer is nobody knows. Our faith in a triune God is exactly that…faith, not deductive reasoning or scientific certitude.
During Lent we are invited not only to fast, but also to reflect on divinity. We might ponder, “Who is God, to me? How do I understand God?” If we are able to find moments of solitude to get in tune with this meditation, then we too, like Moses, might remove our “sandals” (whatever those might be in our lives) as we encounter the Holy.
In Christ,
Anthony+
Beyond Differences, We Are the Same
Message from Rev. Anthony
Dear Friends,
I recently got into a text-chat with a friend from Northern Virginia. He was sharing how he was fasting for the next 30 days for Ramadan. Muslims believe that the Quran (Moslem’s Holy Book) was revealed during the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, and so they fast from dawn to sunset in order to observe this holy time. They are also encouraged to pray and reflect on scripture.
I, of course, immediately thought of Lent and how the two traditions resemble one another. I also thought of how Ash Wednesday, in particular, shares many similarities with the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur. Although our religions are as diverse as we are (as people), there are fundamental attributes that they share such as fasting, forgiveness, and the mercy of God.
While Ash Wednesday is a Christian tradition, the belief that “we are dust and from dust we will return,” speaks of a universal principle that transcends any particular faith. It suggests that the essence of who we are eclipses the differences we may have.
This is an important reminder in a sociopolitical climate that wants to highlight our differences, in order to fragment shared interests, which could lead to shared action. As the old adage goes, “united we stand, divided we fall.”
This past Monday several St. John’s members went to the RISC rally at Second Baptist Church. It was encouraging to see hundreds of Richmonders of all races, religions, and genders gather together to focus on issues (affordable housing, gun violence, and healthy homes) affecting the most vulnerable in our society. There will continue to be challenges of injustice in our world, but as long as we are willing to see the splendor of our diverseness, the strength of our fortitude, and the truth, that we are all children of the Most High; then we can find “beauty in the ashes” of chaos.
In Christ,
Anthony+
Do Not Fret
Dear Friends,
As I write this reflection, light snow is slowly cascading across Richmond. Also, happening halfway across the globe, many Ukrainians are left without power nor adequate shelter in the cold, bitterness of winter; not because of any storm; rather, their misery is due to man’s propensity towards war and the lust for power.
The Psalmist in this week’s lectionary reading begins by imploring his audience to “not fret yourself because of evildoers.” (Psalms 37:1) “Fret” can either mean “to become angry” or “ to be anxious or to worry,” depending on the translation. Even thousands of years ago, this writer is acutely aware that wickedness, at times, succeeds. This is the reality of what it means to be human, whether in antiquity or post-modernity. Being aware of this sobering circumstance, the author of Psalms 37 implores readers to “trust in the Lord” and “wait upon God.” He recognizes it is our faith that will sustain us during dark times.
“Waiting on God” does not suggest being stagnant. I believe it implies finding the balance between human effort and providence. Wisdom must be sought to discern between striving towards a more equitable world and recognizing if one becomes lost in the zealousness of their cause. Or as the Psalmists wrote, “…do not fret yourself, it leads only to evil.” (Psalms 37:9)
In this week’s newsletter there are several events that I hope you consider attending that will give parishioners the opportunity to work toward justice, at least at the local level. While we are all aware of the challenges occurring globally and nationally, we must also recognize, in the words of Dr. King, “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” So let us get plugged-in to actions that can effect change in our “own backyard.”
In Christ,
Rev. Anthony
Gratitude
Message from Rev. Anthony Gaboton
Dear Friends,
It’s hard to believe that I have already been at St. John’s for a little over a month now. As Rev. Amelie recently preached, I feel interspersed somewhere between chronos and kairos time. I anticipate becoming more involved with the ministerial life of St. John’s, while simultaneously preparing for it, by getting to know protocol, parishioners, and the rhythm of my professional and personal life. This is all undergirded by a profound gratitude towards God.
Speaking of ‘gratitude’, I recently had a conversation with some of the parishioners at Calvary Episcopal Church in Hanover (the congregation I am serving on the 2nd and 4th Sundays), that gave me much to be grateful for. That particular evening was cold, and we were talking about the surrounding area close to the church.
“Well, you know Rev.,” one parishioner shared, “there are some folks that don’t live too far from the church who don’t have any heat.”
“Oh, wow. Are they homeless?” I curiously asked.
“No, they have a house,” he replied, “they just have to use a stove or fireplace to keep it warm.”
“Yeah, and a couple of them still use outhouses,” another parishioner added.
Outhouses?! I couldn’t believe there are Americans in the 21st century who are still using outhouses, especially considering the country’s wealth. I also thought about how miserable it would be to go outside in the cold to use the bathroom.
As we draw nearer to Christmas and face the inevitable pull of shopping and festivities, I am reminded of the plight of others, the abundance of blessings I have, for which I am very grateful, and the work ahead to help share Christ’s love in deeds and actions.
In Christ,
Anthony+