Rector's Reflection: A Season of Restoration, September 6, 2025

Beloved Members of St. Martin's,

Once, when I was about 12, a cluster of the autumn great monarch butterfly migration actually stopped in the woods across from my granddad's house. I remember being awed by the hundreds of pairs of orange wings that rested on the line of fir trees that bordered the baseball fields, resting before heading out the next morning. I was surprised, but I wasn't necessarily shocked, because back then monarchs were thought to be as common as a flock of sparrows. Back then, monarchs were ho-hum. You could see dozens of them every day from March through October.

Twenty years later, how things had changed. By the time my own children were little, and of an age to notice, seeing a monarch at any time of year had become a rare sight. We got incredibly excited one year when we actually had one of the late-summer caterpillars destined to make the migration form a crysalis in the frame of our patio door. The day it emerged, strengthened its wings in the sun, and flew away was a day of wonder in our household. And the next year my kids and I planted milkweed, their favorite food, in hopes of a repeat performance. A photo of one of "our" caterpillars will grace the cover of the 10:30 bulletin, and a photo of the butterfly it became will be on the cover of the 505 bulletin for this weekend.

In the last twenty years especially, factors such as pesticide use and habitat loss have caused a crash in the monarch population, and that is worrisome because, alongside a simultaneous honeybee colony collapse, it indicates a decline in pollinators, which can dramatically affect the food supply. The good news is that, as people have become aware of the issue, they have started acting to restore crucial habitat, including restoring prairie ecosystems, reducing the use of pesticides, and even planting backyard patches of wildflowers can help. The food chain web reminds us that helping these tiny creatures also helps humans, as one out of every three bites of food we eat is dependent upon pollination by butterflies, bees, and birds.

Creation care matters. There are millions of practical reasons why we need to be mindful of our impact upon the Earth and the environment: no other species has as much potential to either protect or pollute our land and water. But there is also a spiritual aspect to this crisis, as care for creation is an act of reverence for God and for each other, a practical way to engage in the Great Commandment. That's why I was so excited to be able to assist with the work of the Creation Care Caucus of deputies and bishops at the last General Convention in July of 2024, as we sought to encourage engagement with environmental issues at the triannual gathering of deputies and bishops from all across the Episcopal Church.

The first step of solving any problem is awareness. That is why this Sunday you will notice that we are using new liturgical prayers, emphasizing a theme of creation, and we will be using them from now until October 5. What once was a single day among the Orthodox tradition eventually grew to a focus from September 1 through October 4, the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi.

This program of focus on creation originally was promoted by the World Council of Churches in 2008, which is when some Episcopal churches first started their observance of this time to pray about and work for the restoration of our loving care of our relationship with God and this planet and all its living things, all of whom are the handiwork of the Creator.

I invite you to learn more about Creation Care in the Episcopal Church here on the main website for our denomination.

There are many beautiful prayers from across the Anglican communion that we will be able to meditate upon and pray during this brief season. You can also see the collection of prayers and spiritual writings gathered for worship in Episcopal parishes here, and perhaps even use some of these resources in your own praying of the daily office.

You can learn about ways the Episcopal Church and her members are working to urge action on environmental concerns in Washington DC by learning about Creation Care activity from the Episcopal Public Policy Network.

You can even sign up to get a daily devotion delivered to your email inbox by following this link.

I hope that these next few weeks inspire you to get out into the beauty of creation and let God's handiwork feed your soul. As harvest time approaches, I hope that you can give thanks for the many hands that work to bring the food you enjoy from field, farm, forest and sea to your own tables.

As you approach the altar rail for communion, I hope you can be filled with wonder that communion itself depends upon wheat, rice, or potato flour and grapes and clean water, transformed through the work of human hands, to remind us of our call to remember Christ's saving work in the world as well as our God-given responsibility to tend the Earth lovingly.

In Christ,

Mother Leslie+

Why the Possum's Tail is Bare: A "FolkTail" for the Children's Message Aug. 31, 2025

A drawing of an Opossum, which is often just called "Possum."

by the Rev. Leslie Scoopmire

When Mother Leslie and her sister were little, our parents would sometimes tell us stories. Our dad, who was part Cherokee, liked to tell us this one, and I wanted to share it with you today. It's a Cherokee story called "Why Possum's Tail Is Bare."

You may not know it, but long ago animals used to love to get together and hold big community meetings called councils, where they would talk about how to take care of each other, how to prepare for winter, and other sorts of important business for the community of creatures. Afterward, they would feast and dance and sing together. It was a way of being neighborly, and sharing good times and good food.

Now all the animals knew each other, and knew the tendencies that each animal had. For instance, the fox was known for being clever. The owl was known for being wise. The horse was known for being fast. The eagle was known for its ability to fly high and to see things from long distances. And rabbit was known as a trickster, as a player of practical jokes. And yet because he was so swift, he was often also given the task of being a messenger in the animal community.

So the animals were getting ready to have another one of their annual council meetings, followed by a dance and dinner. This was going to be a night of talking about issues the community needed to take care of, gathering help for those in need, and feasting and singing and music and dancing around a wonderful warm fire.

Rabbit was sent out to spread the news of the dance to all the different animals living in the forest. And as he approached Possum's house, he thought about Possum's terrible pride, and his repeated tendency to brag. You see, back then, Possum had a beautiful, luxurious, silky tail, one he took great pride in. He kept it neat and clean, always brushed it out so that it shone like glass. So Rabbit decided to play a trick on Possum.

Sure enough, Rabbit found Possum down by the pond, combing the hair on his tail and looking at its reflection in the water, making sure his tail looked its finest.

"Hello, Possum!" said Rabbit, interrupting the combing, and Possum jumped with a start." Are you coming to tomorrow night's council? It wouldn't be a real meeting without you!"

"Well, I don't know," said Possum. "I had planned to wash my tail tomorrow, and you know it takes several hours for me to dry it properly."

Rabbit said, "Ohh come on! You and your tail must be there!"

The Possum considered. "Hmm. Well, I guess I can come, as long as you give me a place of honor so that everyone can see my magnificent tail."

"Oh, absolutely!" said Rabbit, "And, what's more, just to make sure your tail is at its finest, I will send over someone to comb it and dress it so that it'll look especially amazing!" Possum readily agreed to come, and away Rabbit hopped.

Rabbit's next stop was to Cricket's house. Cricket was known to be an expert hair cutter-- so good that the Native American people called him "the Barber." So Rabbit asked Cricket to go to Possum's house the next evening, just before the council began. Then Rabbit bent down and whispered in Cricket's ears special instructions, and then he hopped off, laughing as he went.

The next evening, after sundown, Cricket appeared at Possum's house. He told Possum that he had come to prepare his beautiful tail for the council meeting and dance, so that it would look its very best. Possum happily put himself at Cricket's disposal, knowing Cricket's reputation as a wonderful barber and hairdresser.

Cricket urged Possum to lay back and close his eyes and let Cricket do the work. Soon Cricket tied a red ribbon way up around the top of the tail, telling Possum that the ribbon was there in order to be able to brush the tail without it pulling too much and hurting as he worked. "This ribbbon, which is itself beautiful, will help keep your tail neat and tidy until the meeting," Cricket assured Possum, and Possum happily lay back and closed his eyes, imagining how fine this night was going to be. That ribbon why Possum couldn't feel Cricket clipping off the hair close to the roots, working his way round and round and down and down the tail until it was as bare and wriggly as a long, pink, worm.

Cricket finished just as night had gotten very dark, just in time for the council meeting to start, and so with only minutes to spare, away they both ran to the council grounds.

When Possum arrived, he found the place of honor saved for him, just as Rabbit had promised. The fire was not yet fully lit, because the wood was always saved for the dance after the meeting. The light was just bright enough to see everyone's faces. The animals got finished with their business rather quickly. Then the fire was fed and the flames shot up, and the dancing began.

When it was Possum's turned to dance, he loosened the string from his tail and stepped into the middle of the assembly. The drummers, who were the woodpeckers, began to drum, and Possum began to dance and sing and spin, lifting his face up to the stars overhead. "See my beautiful tail!" he cried and everybody shouted. He danced around the circle and sang again "See how beautiful the fur is and how beautiful the colour is!" and everybody shouted more. Even more in ecstasy, he exclaimed "See it sweep the ground! See it wave in the breeze as I dance!" And the animals shouted loudest of all.

Possum was delighted. So he spun around, and sang even louder stepping up close to the fire, "Look at my beautiful tail!" And suddenly possum realized that the animals weren't shouting, but laughing. He stopped dancing and looked down into the firelight at his tail.

Possum saw that there was not a hair left on it. Instead it was as bare and naked as a lizard, or a snake, or even worse a worm! A long, pink, wriggly worm! Possum was so surprised and astonished that he could not say a word.

Instead, not knowing what to do, he rolled over helpless on the ground and grinned, as Possum does to this day whenever he is taken by surprise. And to this very day, the Possum's is a much more humble creature, and helpful, eating all kind of annoying insects like ticks. But his tail is still bare.

Citation-- a Cherokee Folktale told to Mother Leslie by her father, Cornell Barnes. An original version can be found in History, Myths, and Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees, by James M. Mooney.

The Best Place-- Sermon for the 12th Sunday after Pentecost, August 31, 2025

by the Rev. Leslie Barnes Scoopmire

Readings:

Proverbs 25:6-7

Psalm 112

Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16

Luke 14:1, 7-14

I'm not a big fan of commercial country music radio. I hardly ever listen to it, to be honest. Maybe it was all those gazillions of miles driving 75 miles an hour over the Plains to Grandma's house, trapped with my siblings in the back seat of a 1969 Lincoln Continental with suicide doors as Conway Twitty wailed about heartbreak on my dad's 8-track player up in front, trying not to barf from the smell of the can of vienna sausages my mom had just opened in the front seat. I don't know.

But when I think of the emphasis in our readings about humility, there are two country songs that come to mind.

The first one is by Mac Davis from 1974. Who knows-- I might've even heard it in that same back seat back then. It's called "It's Hard to Be Humble." It starts out with the chorus, like this:

Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble

When you're perfect in every way

I can't wait to look in the mirror

Cause I get better lookin' each day

To know me is to love me

I must be a hell of a man

Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble

But I'm doin' the best that I can

My friend and mentor Brooke Myers used to quote this chorus in one of his sermons, and it always made me laugh out loud. But then the second verse was always my favorite, especially if you remember that Mac Davis was thought by many people to be a pretty good looking guy:

I guess you could say I'm a loner

A cowboy outlaw, tough and proud

Well, I could have lotsa friends if I wanted,

But then I wouldn't stand out from the crowd

Some folks say that I'm egotistical

Hell, I don't even know what that means

I guess it has something to do with the way

That I fill out my skin-tight blue jeans...

Whoa, Nelly! I may not like commercial country, but I do like songs that can make you laugh, and think at the same time.

It's human nature to want to stand out from the crowd. but it often isn't the way to be liked, not really. NOBODY is perfect in every way, b ut that shouldn't be cause to target them, either. Preening and showing off certainly isn't not the best way to get your priorities straight, as our fable at the children's message made clear. You know what I mean?

Our reading from Luke's gospel this morning, and the proverb which Jesus is probably quoting that made up our first lesson, is a reminder about priorities-- namely, who should get to BE the priority. Who should be the object of our attention. And Jesus and his opponents have a very real disagreement about that, at a foundational level.

I may have mentioned before that, whenever I am looking at our lectionary readings, I always want to go and see the verses that are omitted, because I think context is always crucial in understanding the intention and mood of the text. And in this case, the five verses that are omitted I think are important for our understanding today.

We start with Jesus being invited to a Pharisee's house for a sabbath dinner. The fact that it's the sabbath becomes important when hearing the omitted verses:

² Just then, in front of him, there was a man who had edema. ³ And Jesus asked the experts in the law and Pharisees, “Is it lawful to cure people on the Sabbath or not?” ⁴ But they were silent. So Jesus^[b] took him and healed him and sent him away. ⁵ Then he said to them, “If one of you has a child^[c] or an ox that has fallen into a well, will you not immediately pull it out on a Sabbath day?” ⁶ And they could not reply to this.

So, just like last week, we have a healing on the sabbath. But it's from THAT action that Jesus then begins watching the scrambling of the guests for seats at the table.

In the gospels, especially in Luke, meals were also often where Jesus shocked the living heck out of his hosts-- and often seemed deliberately challenging, even rude to them. Letting "loose" women wash his feet with their hair. Criticizing his hosts' manners. Eating with dirty hands. No wonder they were watching him. Notice that this also was on a sabbath--- another day in which Jesus was prone to what his opponents though was scandalous, even blasphemous behavior. It's a wonder he got invited to dinner at all. It was almost like their curiosity always got the better of them-- which makes sense, what with all the miracles and "what-not." Ha ha ha.

Just like last week, we also get to see the salty side of Jesus. This is not a mamby-pamby Jesus. This is a Jesus who has every right to be frustrated. His opponents invite him to a meal, deliberately place a sick man in front of him on the sabbath, and then watch closely to see what he does. If anyone has ever been around people who are just LOOKING for a reason to play "gotcha" with you, and I certainly have, it's annoying and exhausting and sometimes dangerous to be in situations like that.

So no, Jesus was not always a "nice person." This is a reminder he is fully human, and that's a comfort to me. Jesus had a willingness to challenge authority, even when it was unpopular. Jesus came to proclaim a gospel that was new-- that's why it's called Good NEWS, after all. And that gospel was radical ESPECIALLY because of its emphasis on grace and mercy over judgment and legalism.

This follows nicely after last week's frustrated comment by Jesus that he had come to create division within families and communities. While many people were starving for that proclamation of grace, others were threatened by it. Because grace is, by its very nature, NOT bound by human notions of justice, where "justice" is used as a synonym for "punishment." As it is currently being used by far too many people today.

Getting back to the story, and I don't know about you, but especially after last week's cure of the woman on the sabbath, I smell a set-up. Could it be that they were watching him carefully because they deliberately placed this suffering man in Jesus's path to see if he would "violate" the sabbath again by curing him?

Jesus sees through the charade, so he pauses before curing the man, and places a Biblical question before his hosts, who of course were expert in the Torah: is it lawful to cure people on the sabbath? After they stare at him, he cures the man and sends him on his way. But then Jesus cites verses from the books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy that allowed exceptions to the sabbath injunction to rest.  

So back to that idea that Jesus is not always "nice--" whoa, you should be able to smell the snark from here, as our own gospel picks back up. Jesus watches all the guests sitting down for the meal, and he starts innocently musing about people placing themselves in places of honor-- probably just as people are scrambling around for seats. Then he tells the host not to invite the rich, or the well-connected-- out loud! In front of the guests, who probably are-- wait for it-- exactly that.

This meal is a vehicle for Jesus to explain about how we should not have distinctions among each other, and be humble within the community. It is better to humbly accept a lowly position than get above ourselves and be rebuked for putting on airs. Arrogance is destructive to community and breeds resentment.

Another way of putting it is this: “The first must be last.” This statement is expressed by Jesus in all four gospels. Thus, we are confronted with an important reminder, indeed. It is reminding us how far our priorities are from those of the kingdom of God. The highly hierarchical world of Palestine in the first century CE is not how the kingdom of God is supposed to be. Thehighly hierarchical world of "Keeping Up With the Kardashians" and "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" of today is just the same.

So many of us are heartsick at the callousness and cruelty that has taken root in wide swaths of our world right now. The joy people take and the laughter as people are torn from their loved ones-- that sense of smug satisfaction that too many people feel when watching the suffering of others-- all the while thinking that they themselves are somehow immune from being targeted themselves.

What if we considered Jesus's urging to be welcoming and humble in light of the admonition that starts our Hebrews reading? "Let mutual love continue." And we do that by being hospitable. Look with empathy upon people in prison. Don't chase wealth over relationships.

It's normal to want "the best place" if we can get it.  but Jesus says the best place is alongside others, opening ourselves to getting to know each other. Because when we get to know each other, it becomes a whole lot harder to dehumanize each other, and think that we are not dependent upon each other for all the good things in our lives, from our groceries to clean streets to entertainment-- a particularly good reminder of respect and mutuality on the Labor Day Weekend.

This brings up the second country song I was reminded of as I considered today's scripture message to us. It's from about ten years ago. It was sung by Tim McGraw, who seems to be a pretty grounded person for a country music star, and was called Humble and Kind. It was sung like a father giving advice to his kids. It included advice like

Hold the door, say "please", say "thank you"

Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie....

But then it closed with this admonition:

Don't take for granted the love this life gives you

When you get where you're going don't forget to turn back around

And help the next one in line

Always stay humble and kind.

I love that last stanza especially. "Don't take for granted the love this life gives you." We constantly walk around with our dukes up right now. We constantly live in a state of anxiety, or dread, or suspicion, or anger-- even if it's righteous anger. And a lot of those emotions have to do with the world's insistence on scarcity, and how that fear then makes us see each other not as fellow-community members, but as competitors.

Jesus calls us to a better place. A place of fellowship. A place of appreciation. A place of opening our eyes and seeing the love that this life gives you-- and giving us the desire to want to share that love and pass it on.

That's the best place. Opening up our hearts, humbly and joyfully to the love this life gives you. Sitting and celebrating and loving alongside everybody else.

Amen.

Citations:

"It's Hard to Be Humble," written by Mac Davis, sung by Mac Davis, 1974

"Humble and Kind," written by Lori McKenna, sung by Tim McGraw, 2016. Interestingly, an illustrated book version of this song was released in 2016 just in time for graduation season.