Worship Schedule

Sunday 8:15 a.m. Holy Eucharist Rite I
nave
Sunday 10:45 a.m. Holy Eucharist Rite II
nave & online: Facebook/website
Tuesday 8:00 p.m. Compline
online: Zoom
Wednesday 12:00 p.m. Eucharist
chapel

Sunday mornings at Grace

Christmas

Christmas Eve – 4:00 PM, music at 3:45
Eucharist & Christmas Pageant
Christmas Eve – 10:00 PM, music at 9:30
Festival Eucharist for the Feast of the Nativity
Christmas Day – 12: 00 PM
Said Eucharist

Christmas at Grace

Find Us

The Grace Church nave is located at the corner of Washington Street and Boulevard in Gainesville, Georgia.

The parish office, open Monday through Thursday from 10:00 AM – 4:00 PM, is located at 422 Brenau Avenue. Come to the red door that faces Brenau Avenue and ring the bell for access.

Mailing Address: 422 Brenau Avenue, Gainesville, GA 30501
Phone: 770-536-0126

Driving Directions & Parking

Email Clergy & Staff

Glimpses of Grace Podcast

Date Posted: August 28, 2024

Beyond Algorithms

The systems, constructs, and algorithms of our lives offer us an illusion of fulfillment. Jesus’ teachings from the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel challenge us to seek deeper, spiritual truths rather than the immediate gratifications of this life. Join us as we explore the tension between human desires, the illusions they create, and the transformative power of the true spiritual nourishment found in the Bread of Life.

The Glimpses of Grace podcast is a ministry of Grace Episcopal Church in Gainesville, Georgia. We are passionate about supporting the spiritual growth of souls, and we hope these sermons and conversations meet you where you are and enrich your soul as we all continue to make meaning in the world today.

Glimpses of Grace on Spotify

Transcript

Last year, Peacock began streaming a limited series called Mrs. Davis. In it, a nun named Sister Simone battles an Artificial Intelligence that has seemingly made the world a better place—a place with no war, a place in which people are happy.

But Sister Simone knows that this happiness is an illusion, a product of an algorithm.

Damon Lindelof, one of the show’s creators, considers, “…if you give yourself over to the algorithm, the algorithm’s just going to give you what it thinks you want… and I don’t think that’s a particularly good thing.”

True life cannot be found in an algorithm’s predictions, just as it cannot be found in the immediate gratifications of this life.

Algorithms increasingly shape our experiences—what we buy, what we read, what we believe.
But algorithms are designed to respond to our surface-level desires, offering us what is convenient, what is entertaining, what is instantly gratifying.

They offer us an illusion of fulfillment, one that is, at best, a shallow reflection of true life. For the past month, our lectionary has taken a detour, moving away from the Gospel of Mark and placing us in the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel (next week we jump back into Mark).

For the last five weeks, we’ve followed a narrative that began with the feeding of many through the generous offering of a child.

This was followed by Jesus slipping away from the crowd because they wanted to make him their king.
Then, there was a curious moment where the disciples, caught in a storm on the sea, see Jesus walking on water, and hear the divine revelation, “I am,” before arriving at a new place.

And finally, Jesus delivers a lecture on the true Bread of Heaven, where we hear echos of the Exodus story, of Moses and the Israelites:
of manna in the wilderness, of questioning, and of grumbling. John’s Gospel is pointing us back to something important here—we tend to want to believe that people or things will change us, make us better, and transform our being here on earth.

We get caught up in what we see, in our immediate reality—like our ancestors with the manna and the crowd with their stomachs. Instead of recognizing God’s spiritual work in providing for their physical needs by making manna fall from the heavens, the people gave Moses, (a tangible being like themselves) the credit.

Their focus was on the physical bread, not the spiritual truth it represented. Their vision became short-sighted, unable to see the full spiritual reality of a gracious God at work.

And as the stories will tell us, it became a pattern of trust and over-reliance on the power of human judges and kings.

A desire for an immediate fix doesn’t always form deep faith and resilience. This is what Jesus means…”the flesh is no help at all.” When we get distracted, thinking life’s significance stems from a way that is disjointed from God’s story—from God’s self—then yes, it’s no help at all. We are deceived when it’s earthly things stand in place of hope or give a false promise of fulfillment all of its own.

Regarding eternity, such things are no help at all when they lack life-giving Spirit, the true heart and joy of Christ. It is belief that turns us outward, turns us toward God. Belief that this life and the degree to which the physical pieces that make up our stories can offer true happiness and well-being are not the full story.
Jesus calls us to the spiritual truths that underlie, infuse, and co-create our shared story.

After his Bread of Heaven discourse and this talk of doing something quite inappropriate, according to Jewish law—eating flesh and drinking blood?!—the multitude has thinned out considerably.

And, the larger gathering of disciples wonders, “who can hear this hard teaching?” The Message translates: “this is tough teaching, too tough to swallow.” They are unable to accept what they hear,
they are unable to consume the thing…the teaching, they are unable to set a course…to get it done.

What is so difficult to accept?

It is the truth that there is a nourishment we need from God that only comes through belief;
it is the truth that Jesus is the eternal bread of life that sustains;
it is the truth that God draws in and guides all who are able to accept these truths;
it is the truth that we need to literally integrate the body and blood—the very being and life force—of Christ into ourselves;
it is the truth that with this integration, we will never again be empty or parched;
it is the truth that the Spirit is life—we cannot rely on the flesh of our humanness.
It is difficult to accept because it requires us to let go of our illusions.
It asks us to release our grip on the things we thought mattered—our accomplishments, our possessions, our earthly security.
It asks us to recognize that what we accomplish for ourselves doesn’t ultimately matter if it is disconnected from God.
It asks us to confront the possibility that what we thought was true is actually an illusion.

Can we accept that what we accomplish for ourselves doesn’t really matter?
Can we stomach that what we thought was true is actually an illusion?
The constructs and patterns that make up our lives need to be uprooted and transformed? How is that possible?

Peter gets it! “Lord, to whom can we go?”

Subtext: “I see no alternatives.”

Peter understands that the surrogates in life, those things that stand in place of God’s dream, are no help at all. It’s about what God is doing through us and for us. The other stuff is insignificant.

In the end, it is not an algorithm, a leader, or a system that will bring us true fulfillment. It is only in Christ, the Bread of Heaven, that we find the life we seek.

May we have the courage to let go of the illusions and embrace the spiritual truths that bring us true and everlasting joy. Amen.