This is probably going to come off as snarky criticism, but please take my word that I don’t mean it that way. It’s just that my diocese, the Episcopal Diocese of Ohio, promulgated a brochure-like document entitled “Vision Integration” at our most recent diocesan convention back in November. At the time, I didn’t pay it much attention: I’m retired, I’m not required to pay attention to these sorts of things any longer.
However, I more recently agreed to be part of a diocesan task force which, as I understand our mandate, is to develop one or two innovative programs or projects to assist our parishes with building maintenance and management issues. In preparation for our initial meeting, we were asked to review the “Vision Integration” document. Doing so, I have been reminded of a philosophical and spiritual position I have held about worship and liturgy for more than 35 years, which is to say “for longer than I’ve been an ordained person.” It is the belief that worship is central to the existence and mission of the church, moreso than any other ministry or activity the church may undertake. It is a position that is core to my ecclesiology, core to my understanding of the nature and purpose of the church.
One of the things I try to do when I read the stories of Jesus in the Gospels, when he uses an odd or striking metaphor like “I will make you fishers of people”
I understand that St. Andrew’s Parish is, today, beginning its annual stewardship campaign, so I suppose it’s appropriate that we heard the story of Jesus being confronted by the wealthy man who wants to inherit eternal life in today’s Gospel reading from Mark. This tale must have been an important one to the earliest Christians, because we find it in all three of the Synoptic Gospels. Mark tells us only that the man is wealthy; Matthew adds that he is young; and Luke informs us that he is a ruler of some sort. But none of those details really changes the basic nature of the encounter: a potential disciple comes to Jesus seeking guidance and Jesus tells him that he must give up everything he possesses – “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor….”
“They’re eating the dogs, they’re eating the cats.”
Again this week as last, our first reading today is from the First Book of Kings and like last week’s, it is a prayer spoken by King Solomon. Last week, it was a private prayer spoken in a dream late at night. Today, it is a public prayer. As long as it was, this reading is just a small part of the dedicatory prayer that Solomon offered when the Temple was finished and consecrated. In it, Solomon asks an important question, “[W]ill God indeed dwell on the earth?”
Our gospel reading this morning is taken from the Fourth Gospel, the Gospel according to John, which I’m sure you know is the sort of odd-man-out of the gospels. The other three gospels, the so-called Synoptic Gospels (a Greek word meaning that they see the Jesus story in the same way), pretty much agree and present the events of Jesus’ ministry in the same order over a one-year time-line. John tells the story in a completely different way, with a three-year time span and a different order of events. 
The United States is, at least ostensibly, a very religious country. Nearly two hundred years ago, Alexis de Tocqueville wrote that “there is no country in the world where … religion retains a greater influence over the souls of men than in America; and there can be no greater proof of its utility and its conformity to human nature than that its influence is powerfully felt over the most enlightened and free nation of the earth.”
We have had more than enough of contempt,
There is a graphic artist named Brian Andreas whose work I can’t really describe to you. He uses a lot of primary colors, representational but non-realistic images, and words to create prints called “StoryPeople.” In one of them that I saw a while back is this quotation (I don’t know if it’s original to Mr. Andreas or quoted from someone else):
