I will admit that after preaching for just shy of 30 minutes at Prince of Peace Church a few weeks ago, I was, in a word, drained.  The Spirit was alive and I had been uplifted by Her power and grace.  This divine gift takes it out of you, that is for sure.  Yet, in spite of physical drainage, it would have been impossible not to recognize and bask in the overwhelming appreciation of that congregation that had filled their worship space that glorious Sunday morning.  What a day it was.  And my "work day" was not even close to being finished.

After my morning at Prince of Peace Methodist, I stopped by at our
St. Nicholas Church, just to make sure all was well.  The place was quite peaceful and quiet, aside from Earl and Tameica Williams and Chuck Schroeder who were milling about, putting things away and Jenn Brundige in the Parish Office taking care of the offerings from the weekend.  I walked into the worship space, bathed in royal blue, burnt red and muted yellow light that streamed in from the stained glass windows, all silent and solemn and there I sat and I cried, just a little.  Why?  Well, the day had been so emotional already.  I was blessed to have shared the Good News of Christ with our friends and neighbors at Prince of Peace.  It was not just that an Episcopal priest had entered a Methodist church and preached the Gospel.  Certainly, it was that.  Yet, it was so much more.  What it was was a group of faithful people who happen to subscribe to the Christian tradition had gotten together to worship, sing songs and pray together.  I was the one chosen on that day to lead the family of faith.  That is why I came back 'home' and shed a few tears of happiness and bliss. I do not take such invitations lightly.  Not in the least.  Such occasions are moments of great honor and must be shown the respect they rightly deserve.  And as I said earlier, my day was just beginning.

An invitation had been offered me to be present to the Hadi Muslim School in Schaumburg to take part in a group discussion and conversation about fasting in various faith communities.  I gladly accepted the request to be present and I looked forward to the time with our Islamic sisters and brothers.  The children of the school, each one more adorable than the last had worked out a play that explained the history and nature of Ramadan.  When the play concluded, several speakers explained how their faith communities exercised fasting as part of their religious observance.  Jewish, Hindi, Buddhist, Muslim and Christian women and men each shared their views and practices.  I spoke, briefly, as to the Christian tradition of fasting and how Episcopalians, in our own way, exercise this spiritual discipline.  After the formal conversation, the school -- which ironically is staffed by mostly law teachers who are Christian -- prepared a lovely afternoon feast of traditional Middle Eastern foods. I was in my element and I made good use of their warm hospitality.  Besides, I was hungry as I hadn't hadn't eaten anything and it was already 2:30pm.

On Friday afternoon, the 10th of June, I watched the funeral of Muhammad Ali, arguably, or perhaps not, the "greatest" boxer of all time.  The speakers, the procession of religious leaders and distinguished guests was absolutely astounding.  Each speaker waxed poetically about the man they knew; not necessarily the boxer, but the man himself.  All spoke of how immensely generous he was, with his time, his talent and his treasure.  He was universal in his desire of sharing with those in need.  His kindness was far-reaching.  I realize there are some who still hold a negative view of this man because of his refusal to register for military duty during the Vietnam conflict.  Personally, his stance spoke even more loudly of his desire to build a more peaceful world through dialogue and discussion rather than more killing, more bombs and more innocent lives lost because of political disagreements.  His Islamic faith, just as our Christian faith holds fast that peace must always be our first recourse in all actions with others.  Ali was simply living this out.  He paid a heavy price for his religious convictions.  Then again, so did Jesus.  So did the apostles.  So did Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  So did Malcolm X.  So did Mahatma Gandhi.  And hundreds of thousands of others who bravely endured torture and martyrdom because they had the audacity to love God fully.  The funeral concluded and there I was, wrapped up in this moment in history and time.   And again, I shed a few more tears of happiness and sorrow; that this man of such strength and force, yet a man of such peace and faith had concluded his race and was now resting in peace at home in Paradise.

My sisters and brothers, let us pray that, as a universal family, we come to the realization that God is not Muslim.  God is not Jewish.  God is not Christian.  God is not Hindi, or Buddhist or any other such organized faith denomination.  God is not one of these.  Rather, God is all of these and so, so much more.  So much more in fact that God remains beyond our comprehension.  God is both wrapped in mystery and is above our understanding of mystery as well.  God is our Creator and Provider.  God never abandons us nor will God ever forsake any of us.  If this brings a tear to your eyes, well then, so be it.  Tears are bread for the soul and our souls hunger and thirst.  Feed and be blessed.  Let's drink and have our thirst be quenched.  God provides -- always has and always will. Amen.

For additional information about Ramadan, please read the following piece from Wikipedia.  I hope you find it interesting and insightful.


Amen.

(***written prayer requests)