Beau Surratt | Proper 13C | Luke 12:13-21 | August 4, 2013 | All Saints, Chicago

What are you protecting yourself from?There I was in yoga class on Thursday night...it was the period of relaxation at the end of class—that time when, after all of the exertion of a yoga practice, the body is given a chance to rest, regroup and reset itself, by lying on the back and relaxing completely into the floor. My yoga teacher Nick, who could help even the most tightly wound person to relax completely, was leading us into relaxation by inviting us to let go of any of the places where we were holding tension in our bodies. I hadn’t been to a yoga class in a while so I was totally enjoying this. I was in that yoga bliss zone and it was great. That is, until Nick uttered those words that sent me spiraling into sermon prep mode for the whole rest of savasana:What are you protecting yourself from?Safety….protection…security…certainty—these are things that many of us seek to cultivate in our own lives and in the lives of our families.Parental drives to protect their children are particularly strong, and rightly so—this is especially prevalent in moms who will often try to protect kids and even adults who aren’t even their own—like when you’re riding in a car with a colleague who is a mom and, when there’s a particularly hard stop she throws her arm out in front of you like a mom-sized seatbelt, except…she’s not your mom. Or, like yesterday at the lunch break for our Catechesis of the Good Shepherd training course when Andrea Garland, mom to Owen and Eli, felt compelled to make things better and protect me from having a meltdown yesterday when the waitress spilled water all over my pants and I didn’t react at all.Our protection instincts run strong, particularly in this part of the world in this day and age. Life insurance, car insurance, pet insurance—insurance insurance. We yearn for and crave safety, security and protection, and it’s no wonder, really. Author, researcher and TED talk diva Brené Brown (who is an Episcopalian, by the way!) tells us in her bestselling book Daring Greatlythat she’s witnessed major shifts in the zeitgeist of our country. She says, “The world has never been an easy place, but the past decade has been traumatic for so many people that it’s made changes in our culture. From 9/11, multiple wars, and the recession, to catastrophic natural disasters and the increase in random violence and school shootings, we’ve survived and are surviving events that have torn at our sense of safety with such force that we’ve experienced them as trauma even if we weren’t directly involved.”All of us have ways that we deal of the harshness of the world--- ways of looking for peace in the midst of the chaos, hope in the midst of the apparently hopeless, control in the midst of uncertainty...ways to ratchet our vulnerability down even just a little when everything seems like too much to bear.What are you protecting yourself from?In December of 2012 I returned to All Saints’ after almost a year of being away from this community. By my count, this makes my fourth incarnation on the All Saints’ staff--- College Intern, Parish Administrator, Associate for Music and Administration, and now Director of Music. In mid 2011 I had been working full time as Parish Administrator here at All Saints’ for about 4 years when Margaret McCamant, who was the Director of Music here for 20 years (and now, much to my delight, sings in the choir, plays fiddle and does a myriad of other things here in this community) retired. After much thought, consideration, discernment and questioning about whether it would be something that might work, Bonnie (our Rector-Senior Pastor) and I decided that I would take on the music director duties in addition to my duties as Parish Administrator. I certainly wasn’t 100% sure that working 60 hours each week in this amazing and quirky community of faith would work, but I was so excited about the possibility of being able to make music with y’all that I felt compelled to jump in with both feet. And it was really wonderful….for a little while. At some point during those months I realized something that, quite frankly, scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t control it all. I was used to being able to rely on my competence to be able to handle whatever anyone threw at me, but, in these two areas where I felt very competent, I just couldn’t handle it all. It was out of my control and it made me very, very uncomfortable (and, if you worked with me in the office during those months, you’ll know this well—cranky.) So, I did what anyone else would do when completely overwhelmed…..I joined the Roman Catholic Church.Now…before you think that working at All Saints’ drove me to the Roman Catholic Church, I should be really clear that I had felt drawn in that direction for various reasons for a long time and it was something that I would eventually have to experience for myself in order to know completely what it was. But what led me to leave All Saints’ and go to work and worship in a Roman Catholic parish at that particular time was something in myself that I didn’t know quite how to deal with. I wanted to feel in control again…I wanted to feel like I knew all the answers…I wanted some certainty about things, and I didn’t want to feel so darn vulnerable---and, truth be told, if there is a Church that doesn’t project even an iota of vulnerability, it’s the Roman Catholic Church. I certainly found wonderful grace and comfort during my time in the Catholic Church. I also got to know some very pious- very devoutly religious people - who certainly helped me with my need for certainty. But here’s the thing…the more I was attracted to that certainty the more I saw its shadow side. The faith that was so important to me had again become almost completely about being certain and getting it all right. The faith that had been kindled into a living, breathing flame through the Holy Spirit’s work in me through my first encounters with the All Saints’ community had become a matter of participating in the right rituals in the right way as if to try and make sure God knew that I really cared. I was accumulating all of this right belief and religious experience, and that was it—I was accumulating it. Storing it up, protecting myself so that I wouldn’t have to worry about anybody or anything else.A few months later, when I went with All Saints’ and Ravenswood Community Services to the Greater Chicago Food Depository’s annual Hunger Walk (and eventually began the series of conversations that would bring me back home to All Saints’ and the Episcopal Church) it became very clear to me that I was longing to return to this community. Being at Hunger Walk reminded of something very important that I had learned and seen embodied at All Saints’ and that became an integral part of my faith: The Gospel doesn’t matter one bit if it doesn’t change people’s lives. I had been spending a lot of time learning the Gospel, but precious little time living it.We all at different times in our lives find ourselves longing to protect, hold close, and maybe even hoard our money, possessions, time, religious experiences, our denomination, our church. Particularly when we’re feeling overwhelmed, angry, uncertain, and scared. But Jesus says to us the same thing he said to the rich farmer in our story from Luke’s Gospel today who stored up all his grains and goods so he could eat, drink, and be merry: “This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be? So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God."Blogger about the weekly lectionary readings, Sarah Dylan Breuer writes: “When we're dead set on accumulation, whether it's some kind of moral points we think we're gathering or wealth to shield us from misfortune and suffering, we end up trapped in anxiety. There's usually an awareness that we're kidding ourselves, that life involves vulnerability.”Life involves vulnerability. Vulnerability....being ALL IN, as Brené Brown puts it. And she goes on to say in Daring Greatly, “Vulnerability is not weakness, and the uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure we face every day are not optional. Our only choice is a question of engagement. Our willingness to own and engage with our vulnerability determines the depth of our courage and the clarity of our purpose; the level to which we protect ourselves from being vulnerable is a measure of our fear and disconnection.”Life involves vulnerability.This very night your life is being demanded of you.What are you protecting yourself from?This table that we gather around week after week is a place of vulnerability. Because at this table we offer our very selves to God—hopes and fears, joys and thanksgivings—all that we are – along with bread and wine and food for hungry people. And when we offer it all to God, God gives back to us God’s very self—the Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven – the Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation — and we become God’s body- the living, breathing, healing, forgiving, and renewing body of Christ sent to mend this broken world. In our vulnerability.....offered to God....in Christ’s vulnerability—in his life and death, there is the great power of Resurrection and the promise of the Holy Spirit that we are not alone — we are not left comfortless.....that we’re in this thing together. We’re ALL IN.The Gospel really doesn’t matter one bit if it doesn’t change people’s lives and I am so thankful to be among this community in which I first experienced this being lived out. And I can’t wait to see where this living the Gospel together takes us next.Amen.