<html><body>Here's the first part of my draft for tomorrow.<div><br></div><div>Bob</div><div><br></div><div><p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823">THE
EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN, ALBANY 5 EASTER
c<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823">ACTS
11:1-18 24<sup>th</sup>
APRIL, 2016<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823">REVELATION
21:1-6 PSALM 148<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823">JOHN
13:31-35<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> I have good news and bad news.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823">Who has
<b><u>NOT</u></b> betrayed someone – anyone
– at least once in their lives? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> We can climb on to our high horses
so easily in order to show our superiority, so that everyone can see and hear
us, and admire us, because we’re the ones in white – think the reading from the
Revelation to John last week.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> Who among us has <b><u>NOT</u></b> betrayed someone? We prefer
to forget about events and situations like these, of course. But it happens.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> The Romans had Jesus pegged
correctly – excuse the pun. He was a dangerous individual. Some might even have
said He was a terrorist. He should have left things well enough alone. Whenever
and wherever He showed up – whether in a small village or a large community – He
seemed to get folk all worked up, so much so that even after He’d left, people
would be restless. They’d ask questions, they’d alter their behaviour, they’d
challenge what had been the accepted way of doing things. And the really
annoying thing is that Jesus taught people to do it with a smile on their
faces, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to mix with every
group in town, and to treat all people with respect, and to stop to help
whenever someone had an issue that needed resolving. How can you fault someone
who’s smiling at you? Well, yes, I know, that can make one ever more upset when
it seems that the person doesn’t seem to be taking your complaint seriously.
But that didn’t stop Jesus smiling, and reaching out, and drawing them closer
to Himself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> What a pain Jesus was! Still is! No wonder we can only go
so far with Him, at least some of the time. He expects too much of us. And what
He expects <b><u>ISN’T</u></b> what we
expect He’ll expect! He wants us to take Him – his comments and His actions – completely
seriously. So we squirm, or we should squirm, for instance, when we hear words
that were spoken at Jewish tables last Friday night: “</span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">Judaism teaches that
all people are children of God, even our enemies who would seek to destroy us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> </span></b><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-bidi-font-weight:
bold">“</span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">We
cannot be glad when anyone suffers needlessly. So we mourn the loss of the
Egyptians and express sorrow over their destruction.” <sup>1</sup><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> Of course it’s right and proper to
celebrate with our Jewish sisters and brothers the way that slavery was
overcome through God’s grace. Of course it’s right and proper to remember that
those who were enslaving others were, finally, compelled to release those from
whom freedom had been wrested. But Jesus, at one and the same time, talked in
absolutes and yet was so radically compassionate.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> It’s little wonder the disciples
were so confused. Like us, they responded with pleasure when one group or one
individual who was paining them were put in their place. They must have smirked
or laughed out loud when someone else was shown up as failing to care for God’s
creation. But when <b><u>THEY</u></b> were
on the receiving end, or when it became clear that things weren’t going to go
the way that they wanted, then, like over-indulged children, they refused to
budge. They dug in their heels and refused to listen to reason, no matter how
much sense it made.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> Perhaps they were holding out for
something they thought might come along later. If they pouted, if they refused
to listen, if they despised those to whom Jesus had given an invitation to join
the party; if the disciples – if we – behave like that, it’s as if we’re trying
to bribe Jesus, or have Him bribe us. Give us something we like; give us a
treat; make us the centre of attention; then we’ll consider doing what you’re
suggesting. In other words, they didn’t want Jesus telling them what to do,
because it got in the way of their having their own idea of fun.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> That behaviour of the disciples was
a betrayal of the commitment they’d made to Jesus. And, similarly, that
behaviour adopted by you and me is a betrayal of what we promised to do. It
denies both the right and the responsibility of Jesus to renew us, to show us
the salvation way that is already won.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> Not only that, though. Such
behaviour is destructive to ourselves. Whenever we deny who we’re called to be;
whenever we take the power and gifts we have, and misuse them, we pervert
ourselves, we turn ourselves into that which we don’t want to be – the sort of
person whom we criticise readily in others but to which we’re blind when it
comes to ourselves.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> When we think of betrayal, Judas
comes to mind, or Benedict Arnold. Slightly further down the ladder we come to
Peter, then to all the others who fled, despite their promises. It takes a
while, though, for us to think of how we fail at the things we’re charged with
accomplishing<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:#141823"> Most of you will remember Mr.
Rogers’ Neighborhood and the characters and props on the show. This week I read
a story about something that came about because of the TV programme. The writer
described his work defending abused children. He said, “</span><span class="textexposedshow"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">In
the course of my work I met a man who was an adult survivor. You wouldn’t have
known it looking at him. He was this gigantic Polynesian guy. Wild curly hair.
… He was counseling some of the little kids, and doing a fantastic job of it.</span></span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> “I visited his home to get his
opinion on something and I noticed a little toy on his desk. It was Trolley.
Naturally curious, I asked him about it. This is what he told me:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> “‘The most dangerous time for me was
in the afternoon when my mother got tired and irritable. Like clockwork. Now,
she liked to beat me in discreet places so my father wouldn’t see the bruises.
That particular day she went for the legs. Not uncommon for her. I was knocked
down and couldn’t get back up. Also not uncommon. She gave me one last kick,
the one I had come to learn meant “I’m done now”. Then she left me there
upstairs, face in the carpet, alone. I tried to get up, but couldn’t. So I
dragged myself, arm over arm, to the television, climbed up the tv cabinet and
turned on the TV.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> “‘And there was Mr. Rogers. It was
the end of the show and he was having a quiet, calm conversation with those
hundreds of kids. In that moment, he seemed to look me in the eye when he said
“And I like you just for being you.” In that moment, it was like he was
reaching across time and space to say these words to me when I needed them
most.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> “‘It was like the hand of God, if
you’re into that kind of thing. It hit me in the soul. I was a miserable little
kid. I was sure I was a horrible person. I was sure I deserved every last
moment of abuse, every blow, every bad name. I was sure I earned it, sure I
didn’t deserve better. I *knew* all of these things … until that moment. If
this man, who I hadn’t even met, liked me just for being me, then I couldn’t be
all bad. Then maybe someone could love me, even if it wasn’t my mom.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> “‘It gave me hope. If that nice man
liked me, then I wasn’t a monster. I was worth fighting for. From that day on,
his words were like a secret fortress in my heart. No matter how broken I was,
no matter how much it hurt or what was done to me, I could remember his words,
get back on my feet, and go on for another day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> “‘That’s why I keep Trolley there.
To remind me that, no matter how terrible things look, someone who had never
met me liked me just for being me, and that makes even the worst day worth it
to me. I know how stupid it sounds, but Mr. Rogers saved my life.’” <sup>2</sup><o:p></o:p></span></p></div></body></html>