George of Sylvania

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  • Jude, the Saint of Despair

    Jude, the Saint of Despair

    John 15:17-27:

    Jesus said to his disciples, “I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

    “If the world hates you, be aware that it hated me before it hated you. If you belonged to the world, the world would love you as its own. Because you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world– therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you, ‘Servants are not greater than their master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you; if they kept my word, they will keep yours also. But they will do all these things to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me. If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have sin; but now they have no excuse for their sin. Whoever hates me hates my Father also. If I had not done among them the works that no one else did, they would not have sin. But now they have seen and hated both me and my Father. It was to fulfill the word that is written in their law, ‘They hated me without a cause.’

    “When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who comes from the Father, he will testify on my behalf. You also are to testify because you have been with me from the beginning.”

    Saint Jude is the patron saint for lost causes, impossible situations and despair. It is a hard time for those of us who don’t believe empathy is a sin. When holding all that has happened in Minneapolis, thinking about Keith Porter Jr being murdered by immigration customs and enforcement, the horrific details in the newly released Epstein files, I needed to think about, and create space for despair for a bit.

    When I read this Gospel passage, which is specific in the lectionary to St. Simon and St. Jude (who both share the martyrdom on 10/28), it really had my mind going. See, when I read of Jesus in this passage talking about not being of this world my context, historically, of this passage is much different than what I believe now.

    For a long time I feared the idea of the day of judgment, specifically because of the language around it. I grew up around the apocalyptic concept of fire, brimstone, etc., but then I found out that apocalypse literally means uncovering in Greek, as in, learning something new. When I found this out, I dove deeper into the Jewish roots of Christianity. Because of this new information, I was deeply curious about what this day of judgment would mean. After some time, I became much more comfortable.

    The idea of the day of judgement, is the work of God setting things right, the way they were supposed to be.

    It is creating justice in an unjust world, and for those of us who seek justice, who seek the safety of others, who seek after the words of Jesus, it really isn’t a scary thing. Sure, there are aspects of our lives where we are continuing to hone and align the way we believe with how we live our daily life, but on the whole, the setting of things in their correct manner shouldn’t be that scary.

    When we strip down the concept of wanting to live in a world where everyone is safe, no one has to worry about food, healthcare, being othered, bombs, and genocide as seen in Sudan and Gaza to name a few. These things that make us feel fear in our daily lives, these systematic issues that cause us to live into despair. As I sit with this, I feel connected to the despair that St. Jude is the patron saint of. It’s not hard right now to let those feelings consume us, but cynicism is easy.

    Then I remember, despair is easy.

    Hope, love, and taking care of one another in community is hard.

    It takes bravery to love someone.

    It takes bravery to stand up for someone.

    It takes almost nothing to cast someone aside, and not only deny their humanity, but the image of God that is interwoven through their very being.

    So when I read and sit with the part in Luke where Jesus says, if the world hates you, be aware that it hated me before it hated you, my mind goes to the lie that is christian nationalism. Those I have heard prosecution stories loudest, come from those that uphold white Jesus. And we know that they cannot be the people Jesus is talking about here.

    May you find some hope in these words my friends.

    Grace and peace.

  • Naked and Afraid (Luke 8:29-34)

    Trinity Toledo

    This is the transcript from my sermon on 6/22/2025. You can watch it here at the 23 minute mark.

    The day I was finishing up the sermon, the US bombed Iran. The context is important for how this starts.

    Whenever there is a global, national, or local tragedy and I am preaching, I leave a minute for us to center ourselves. With the United States bombing Iran yesterday, I am sure we are all feeling and thinking different things right now. So please, let us take a moment to remember the community God calls us to be in this world.

    There is so much that happens in this passage that it is so easy to get caught up in not the details but some of the larger aspects of the story. So, I am going to address two specific things, then move on to what I believe is the core of the story. These two things are demon possession and what it means to be the opposite of Galilee.

    What we read as demon possession in the Bible can often be seen and understood today are mental health problems. Not everything is Regan from The Exorcist spewing pea soup. For example, if there was a story of someone Jesus encountered that could not make a decision due to a demon that had kept them in a spot of fear, there is a good chance you’d be reading about me and my anxiety struggles. Thank God for SSRI’s, can I get an amen [pause for amen]?

    Scholars cannot agree on where this particular city was located. What is agreed upon is that it was somewhere in the Decaplilis. So, the question remains then, what does it mean to be the opposite of Galilee? Well, to be taken at face value, we generally know that while the region was on a trade route, there were, like today, few people who held a lot of wealth, while most people were poor. So, when we think of Gerasene, a jumping off point is this is an area where people had access to money, or at least, were middle class. We also know that Galilee was a Jewish settlement, Gerasene was an area where gentiles roamed and lived. What makes this story even better is that, if we remember, Luke is the only author of the New Testament that was gentile. So, this story does a great job foreshadowing the ministry to come in Acts of Jesus’ message reaching past the borders of Roman Palestine.

    This man that Jesus meets on the shores of this city is the model opposite of himself, and Luke makes sure to recount the story as such. Elaine Heath, current abbess of Spring Forest, an intentional Christian community, and former Dean of Dude divinity School points out a few interesting things:

    He is in every way “unclean.” Driven by a legion of demonic forces, the man is scarcely human anymore. He lives in the tombs among the dead. He is naked, unpredictable, violent, and alone. He is also a Gentile; thus, the phrase “opposite Galilee” refers to much more than geography.[1]

    What the author is trying to convey here, is that this region and person is the opposite of what Jesus and Galilee represent. With that in mind, I would like to get to the heart of what I have been meditating on with this passage. It is no secret that I spend a lot of my time reading historical and contextual books or articles when preparing for preaching. I do that because it is how I learn, how I process, and I enjoy bringing nuance to the text. I enjoy working with something ancient and pointing out the incredible relevance.

    In my opinion, this passage needs none of that work. It is important to understand the context, and mental health awareness. But a surface reading of this could suffice.

    At the heart of this is someone who is hearting almost beyond repair, and his community thought it was best to chain him up. When that didn’t work, they let him run around naked among the dead because sometimes ignoring the people who need the most help is easier.

    What breaks my heart about this passage is that the more things change, the more they remain the same.

    For several years, a man named Dan Rogers was the head honcho at Cherry Street Missions. Every year he taught a leadership course to those in non-profit, ministry, etc. That were interested in understanding the unhoused, other needs in downtown Toledo. He would start almost every new class with a story that went like this. One day he was walking down the street on his way to lunch, and he saw someone who had been a resident of Cherry Street.

    It was a busy sidewalk with people passing by, and Dan called out to this man by name. After a few minutes of talking, the man started crying because he had been there for three days with people passing by, and Dan was the first person to talk with him. The first to recognize this guy’s humanity, and unshakeable goodness.

    Now, I personally do not care if that actually happened, or if it happened that way, because it rings as true as this story in Luke does. This man was sick, and in need of dire help. There is a moment when the demons inside the man plead with Jesus that he does not send them back to the abyss. I would like to think about this in a new way. So often when we are caught up in our own trauma and demons, we become comfortable with them. They keep us company when no one else will.

    The known is always more comfortable than the unknown, even if it is unhealthy. James Thompson wrote that, “this story also suggests that the salvation of some creates hostility with others.”[2] Thompson is specifically referring to Jesus potentially ruining someone’s livelihood when he sends the possessed pigs into the water to drown. But if we think about salvation found in the Greek word Soteria, salvation will always cost us something.

    You have heard me preach on this before, Soteria, means to provide safety, and providing a safe space costs us. We know this not just because of our individual experiences but communally with restarting our community breakfast. Trinity is now no longer just a safe place for those of us who gather to worship, but the 90-100 people that come weekly to lay their burden down and be cared for.

    But there is one thing we all have in common with the suffering man in this story. At the end of the day, I am confident in saying that we would all much prefer to go with Jesus physically. To follow him as he teaches, preaches, and heals. But like the man, after our time is done here today, we will be sent back out into the streets. At the end of service, we will be invited to share what the lord has done for us as we navigate the known abyss.

    My friends, this encounter in Luke is boiled down to how communities at times other those who need community the most. As we move through the week ahead, may we remember that the cost of maintaining safety and deliverance can be high, but it is a load we carry together. And that, in community there is no thing that divides us because of Christ in us as the Apostle Paul wrote in Galatians. The only thing that divides us, is how we choose to measure and “other” those around us.

    Amen.

    [1] Heath, E. Feasting on the Word: Year C vol 3, pg. 166

    [2] Thompson, J. Feasting on the Word: Year C, vol 3. Pg. 169

  • Prayer Meeting Reflection

    Trinity Chapel

    The following is my reflection from the prayer meeting held at Trinity’s 12 Noon service on 3/25.

    Matthew 5:17–19 (NRSV)

    Jesus said, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.”

    The sermon on the mount is a teaching I have been spending a lot of time with as of late. I cannot speak for everyone, but this part of the sermon always gave me pause. As a young Christian I was taught that the Old Testament no longer applied to my life because Jesus came and liberated us not just from sin, but from all that “legalism.” Whenever this passage came up in church or wherever, this part always tugged at me, and the best explanation I could get from anyone was that it no longer applied. Paul had written about the law and how it did not apply to us, so we were free from it because of grace.

    As I have grown older, I have personally come to realize that I cannot take that view because of how short sighted it is. To determine that something in the text no longer applies to you gives you permission not to take it seriously. It gives permission to be permissive about it, and when we become permissive, we are no longer curious. I find for myself, when curiosity is gone, what was fresh and vibrant become stale. I do not want to personally live in a world where the Sermon on the Mount becomes stale. So, what does it mean for this part of Matthew to continue to breathe new life?

    Taking place on a mountain side, Jesus sits down and teaches his twelve disciples while others crowd around him and listen in. This image of Jesus is, I would argue, is what we would recognize today as Jesus at his most rabbinic. Rabbi and scholar Jacob Neusner in his book, A Rabbi talks with Jesus, writes: 

    …the sage sets for himself a worthy challenge, one that every sage in every generation does well to meet: receive a tradition whole and perfect, hand it on never intact but always unimpaired, so taking a rightful place in the chain of tradition from Sinai.

    What Rabbi Neusner writes about, is how traditionally new teachers of the law would be raised up. Those who were picked and went through the training to become a teacher of Torah would be taught the commandments by heart. Then, their teacher would put their spin on it by providing some new perspective. This is what it means when a teacher passes on the law, not intact but always unimpaired. What Jesus is building on in his Sermon on the Mount, is the Torah, the law given at Siani to Moses and the ancient Israelites.

    When we talk about no longer being subject to the law of the Old Testament and say that we must follow teachings like the sermon on the mount, something important is left out. What Jesus does with the Sermon on the Mount is what rabbis would call, “building a hedge around Torah.” Imagine that this law is so precious to you, not because of sin or persecution, but because you believe it is the best and you want to live it, that you put a buffer between yourself and it. Like a house with a hedge surrounding, it for protection, is what Jesus is doing in this sermon. The hedge, as Rabbi Neusner puts it, the hedge is important because it allows us to, “…conduct yourself in such a way you will avoid even the things that cause you to sin, not only the sin itself.”

    There is a famous teaching associated with the Hillel the Elder where a gentile comes up to him and asks to be taught the Torah while standing on one foot. Hillel responds with something like, “that which is bad for you, do not to your neighbor, that is the Torah, the rest is commentary.” 

    For Jesus to give this teaching, encouraging us that not murdering is not enough, and we must not even have hate in our hearts. It is not just about not cheating on your spouse, but to not even to look at someone lustfully, and if you do, cut your eye out (because it is not the person’s fault you are looking at them like that). When I sit with this part of Matthew, as I have for the past year, I am reminded that for me, if all of Torah is about caring for my neighbor, and as Rabbi Neusner confirms, Torah is all about teaching us how to show mercy, then I am proud to teach others to show it. 

    I am excited to invite others along the path to teach and show mercy and love in ways that may not be new but are still worth doing. Especially in the climate we find ourselves in, this yoke, this teaching, must be passed on. When you hear it, it may not be intact, but it will at least be unimpaired.

    Grace and peace.

  • Ignorance isn’t Bliss, it’s Dangerous

    Trigger warning: this post addresses bigotry against the LGBTQIA+ community.

    Something I have learned as I have aged is my opinion is not needed on most things. Especially as someone who society has catered to for a very long time. It has been almost a month since the opening ceremony for the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris, and I am still upset about some of the backlash. The weird moral outrage thinking it was aimed as an attack on the Last Supper is laughable. But one post in particular still gets under my skin, and it came from a family member’s blog.

    A few weeks ago, a friend of mine messaged me asking if I had read their newest post, and to be honest, I try hard not to. It is usually filled with bad grammar, and rambling thoughts one would expect from a conservative religious boomer who lives in an echo chamber. The title itself was a redflag, I had a feeling this one would be different than normal. Looking back, it took me somewhere around 10 minutes to click on the link because I had to try and prepare what was about to unfold.

    Truely, I wish I were surprised but, there was a lot of anti-LGBTQIA+ rhetoric, though the author I am sure would never see it that way. From comparing the film, The Dallas Buyers Club, all but stating that is how “real” marginalized Drag Queens live, to reminding readers that the world has always been this way and that’s why God destroyed it during Noah’s time. Stating that there has been “queer” behavior all over the pagan world, until the rise of Christendom, in which it went underground.

    The ignorance displayed in this post, is the same we see all over social media when it comes to the LGBTQIA+ community. It reminds me of a story my dad told me about he and his dad. My father was born and raised in Dayton Ohio. During the 1960’s, he was in elementary school, and one day my grandfather and he were walking into the library. When my dad looked down the street he saw something he didn’t understand. So, he asked, “dad, what are all those people doing wearing their bedsheets out?” Not knowing he was witnessing a Klu Klux Klan demonstration, my grandfather responded with, “son, that is ignorance personified.”

    This, without a doubt in my mind, is ignorance personified.

    This type of ignorance is a choice, and people use it as a crutch. It is not on anyone but themselves to learn about what they do not know after they have become aware of it. I have had a lot of conversations with family, friends, and others about the LGBTQIA+ community, and what it means to be an ally. It is always clear who engages, those who are afraid to give up social or societal standing, and those who know they’re “right.” Continued intentional ignorance about the LGBTQIA+ has cost a lot of lives. Especially in the trans community most recently, for example, stated in the medical journal, Innovation in Clinical Neuroscience, “Gender-affirming care has consistently been shown to improve quality of life, improve health outcomes” yet religious conservatives continue to try and block it.

    This week is Pride in exotic Toledo Ohio, and the church I work for has been planning our involvement for most of the year. Pride, being radically welcoming, and actively being a safe space is who our big queer church is. It is how we show others we can be the hands and feet of God. It is how we express the love of Jesus to the stranger, and those millions of sheep that have left the flock. It is how we reach out and say, I see you, and I love you. And I am so honored to belong to this house of worship.