Cranmer Corner

2011-09-03T20:20:00.002-04:00

Sermon for the Eleventh Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
September 4, 2011

I mentioned last Sunday that this morning's Epistle was again going to come from St. Paul's first letter to the Corinthians and the topic at hand begins to speak of the Christian notion of death and dying. Well, this morning's section from I Cor. 15 doesn't actually go to the full depth that the rest of this chapter does in dealing with this life and the life to come but is the platform from which Paul is going to begin to speak about that most important and relevant topic.

A number of you mentioned on several occasions that you so much prefer the Anglican Burial Office to any of the other funerals that you've attended in your lives. Certainly the reverence and solemnity of the rite itself is beautiful and comforting in its language and does indeed set the stage for a service that is hopefully done decently and in order. Another reason that I believe that these services are so beautiful is the fact that we lean so heavily on Holy Scripture in the service and depend on the language of the great hymns of the church to express in words far better than we can say at that particular time. However, I think that the true reason behind those statements is the fact that more times than not the funeral has felt more like a roast of someone's life rather than in the worship of Almighty God and the final rite of the church for the deceased. It's more about the life of the deceased than about the life of the Saviour of the world into whose loving arms we are committing the soul of someone we loved in this life, with the blessed hope of everlasting life resounding in our ears that we will see that person again.

If we look at both of our lessons appointed for today, we see two prime examples of what displaced trust does in our lives. I am only going to touch on the Epistle, but I hope you will also see that same theme shine through in our Gospel lesson of the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican.

Paul begins this 15th chapter of I Cor. by making four declaratory statements about the Gospel. First, it is the Gospel which Paul preached to them. There is a great deal of trust being exhibited that he is asking them to extend, which he is going to clarify at the end of this passage. Second, it is the Gospel that they received. It is not something that they came up with on their own, it was not something that came from the "devices and desires of their own hearts." No, it is something that they received, and it is the same faith that we receive as well. Third, the Gospel is the means whereby they are now able to stand, and is the strong rock upon which they receive sure footing. The Gospel that they've heard proclaimed and that they now believe is their very foundation. Finally, and most importantly, it is the only place where they may receive salvation and whereby they are saved.

Paul then brings these four statements back to their starting point by adding a caveat that they must continue to return to his faithful preaching and teaching for instruction, correction, and growth in the faith. He is calling upon them to remember that the only source of strength for their life in this world is a faith in the One that will bring them into the perfect joy and fellowship with Him in this life and in the life to come. They cannot depend upon themselves for this but submit their lives wholly into the care, mercy, protection, and pity of Almighty God.

That's an awfully strange way to say that, to place ourselves in a position where we might receive pity. However, remember what we prayed in our collect this morning. God's most glorious example of his unfailing power is in His showing to us his mercy and his pity. It's not in His handiwork and in the things that He created, however marvelous those things are. It's not in the outpouring of gifts from the Holy Spirit, as necessary and important as they are. No, God's most remarkable example of his power is through showing mercy and pity.

The reason this is so is because it points most directly to the cross and what God's Son did upon the cross for us.

Paul offers a reason whereby he can exert his authority to the Corinthian church, and it speaks most clearly as to why his trust is not a disordered one. He tells his hearers that he's not preaching to them his own gospel but the one that he has first received. He's not placing his authority in something that is perishable, but in something that fadeth not away. He says to the Church that first and foremost he's sharing with them the Good News that was given to him-that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; and that he was buried, and that he rose again according to the scriptures. Twice he mentions the scriptures, and then he goes on to bear witness to those who share in that same revelation, those who believe that Jesus died for their sins, was buried, and rose from the dead. We make that same declaration ever time we celebrate the Eucharist, and we do so twice in the liturgy-once in the Creed and once in the Eucharistic prayer.

Finally, Paul acknowledges his shear folly in exulting in himself and says that he is of course the least of all of the Apostles, born out of due time. He was a persecutor of the Church. He sat there and held the cloaks of those who stoned Stephen to death. He did everything in his power to stamp out this rebel movement that he saw as a threat to everything that the Jewish faith stood for, and the promises of a Messiah to which they all were looking. He realized that asserting anything else other than the message of Gospel as the source of his authority to preach as a minister of Jesus Christ was shear foolishness. Paul believed that he was unworthy to even bear the title of Apostle, and yet, through God's grace, mercy, and pity, he is able to do just that because by God's grace only he is who he is. It is only through Christ and him crucified can he boast. Anything else is of no worth. But by the grace of God, we are who we are.

Are we not the same? If we are truly honest with ourselves do we not make the same claims that we are not worthy to be the vehicles through which God's work is accomplished? No, we probably don't offer the same excuse as Paul in persecuting the Church, but we offer our shortcomings as excuses nonetheless. We say that we don't know our Bible well enough to lead a Bible study, or talk to that skeptic who has questions about the Christian faith. We often call to mind those times where we've sinned against God and neighbour and shrink back in fear. We lament our state and say that we can't possibly be the one God has called to bring His kingdom into this broken and hurting world.

Yet, we prayed at the beginning of this service that the supreme vehicle through which God's power is exalted is through showing mercy and pity. I need that assurance. Wretch that I am in light of God's law and commandments, I need someone to show me mercy and pity.

For all of those people who make the claim that Jesus was just like all of the other moral teachers who have come and gone, this doesn't hold water. Jesus was not simply bringing some new morality or new way of showing how to be good as opposed to being bad. No, Jesus came to show us that we are dead, but that through Him and through Him alone we might have new life. That new life is not just reserved for the life to come, but in this life as well. If that were not the case then there would have been no reason for Jesus to have taught us to pray that God's will be done on earth as it was in heaven.

Where do we place our trust? How could we possibly have the audacity to think that we could ever trust in our own righteousness? We can't. Why on earth would even bother to pray the Prayer of Humble Access if that were so? After all, when we pray that prayer in just a few minutes, take note of the fact that the word mercy appears 3 times in those 3 sentences.

The great Apostle St. Paul knew that there was only one place in which he could glory and that was in the cross of Jesus Christ. That's why our Anglican Burial Office speaks with such power and conviction is because it attempts to direct our attention away from the casket and onto the cross. The cross is the only way that one lying in that coffin, which we will all one day do as well, can ever have hope in this life, can ever have true faith, and can ever have life everlasting. To the same Lord who gives us that assurance, and whose power is exalted most in His ability to show mercy and pity, be ascribed all might, majesty, dominion, and praise both now and evermore.

2011-09-03T20:14:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
August 28, 2011

Last Sunday, today, and next Sunday we will hear Epistle lessons from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. Last week we heard from the tenth chapter and Paul’s words to the church to pay attention to two temptations that befall Christian disciples – laxity toward the law on the one hand, and on the other, a religious moralism that distorts our need for Christ in our lives and the necessity of grace to help us along our path toward sanctification. Next Sunday morning we will hear the beginning of the long fifteenth chapter which deals with the theme of death and resurrection and the latter portion of that lesson is one that I always select at the Burial of the Dead because of the manner in which we should properly orient ourselves and our thoughts regarding the Christian perspective on death and dying.

This morning’s Epistle from the twelfth chapter is a continuation of a theme of Christian stewardship that permeates our lessons, and looks at stewardship not from the perspective of our treasure, but more so from the perspective of our talents.

Paul begins this portion of his letter with a sharp transition, and he begins a new line of thought in his teaching about spiritual gifts. I must say that we don’t talk allot about spiritual gifts or the gifts and manifestations of the Holy Spirit. We don’t delve too deeply into the realm of theology known as pneumatology, which is the study of the Holy Spirit and his works. Why not? Why are we so shy about this most important branch of theology? Should we be weary of studying about it, talking about it, and somehow avoid praying more fervently regarding the things of the Spirit of God?

The answer to the final question must be a resounding NO. We should not be weary of studying about and talking about the manifestation of the Holy Spirit in our lives. After all, everyone here who has been confirmed had a bishop lay hands upon your head and ask for that very thing to happen – to pray for the Spirit to come and be among us, and permeate our total existence. The bishop prays, “Defend, O Lord, this thy Child with thy heavenly grace; that he may continue thine for ever; and daily increase in thy Holy Spirit more and more, until he come unto thy everlasting kingdom.” The bishop, through the power of his apostolic office, invoked the Holy Spirit of God upon each of us, and asked that we might increase in that Spirit each and every day of our lives.

I think that one of the main reasons that speaking of things in these terms is so frightening is that it is ultimately an acknowledgement that we are giving ourselves over to something that is mysterious, awesome, frightening in many ways, and last but probably most important, out of our control.

We want to be in control. We want to have a handle on things. As Burger King advertisements say, “We want it our way.” Unfortunately, with the things of God, we don’t get to have it our way. When our way does not accord with God’s way, we will never get it. Well, in actuality if we are so obstinate that we insist on doing it our way, God will allow us to have it our own way, but unfortunately, the consequences are met usually to our own peril. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve heard it said that the song that will be forever sung in Hell will be, “I did it my way.” C. S. Lewis of course wrote that at the end of time there will be two types of people left, those who have said to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God will say, “Thy will be done.”

Not only is Paul telling the Corinthian church that they should pray for the manifestation of the Holy Spirit, but that they should carefully regard the stewardship of those gifts for one reason alone – the glory of Almighty God.

There is a good reason that this lesson follows directly after the one that we heard last Sunday. If it was equally destructive to deviate in one way or another regarding the law, so too should we not deviate too far regarding spiritual gifts.

Our text says that the Spirit divides to every may severally as he will. What that means is that some will be given the gift of wisdom, some knowledge, some faith, some healing, some prophecy, some tongues, some the interpretation of tongues. The key words here are some and same.

Paul does not say that all will be given all of these gifts. I frankly don’t think that anyone could handle the responsibility of the stewardship of that many items. It’s hard enough simply to manage what we have.

It’s also critical to focus on the word same as well as some. All of these gifts come from the same Spirit. Just because someone has the charisma for a certain spiritual gift does not mean that he has reached some new plateau from which he can look down at others who do not possess that same gift.

There are some churches who state that if you have not been given the gift of speaking in tongues you have not been completely baptized by the Holy Spirit. Somehow your Christianity is deficient, and that you need to pray harder and seek more faith so that you might receive that gift.

To those folks I say, I’m sorry, you are doing the exact same thing the Judaizers did in saying that the only way you could be a proper Christian was to be circumcised and be a good Jew first.

This is why the entire heading of this passage falls under the broad category of stewardship. Our Lord has entrusted us to be the good stewards of the gift or gifts He has given. We are to cultivate them, pray that they might be strengthened, use them, and share them with others. We are not called to lord them over other people.

We are also called not to bemoan the fact that we don’t possess a gift that someone else does.

There are some in this parish who have the gift to offer their service to God in the preparation of the altar, others have the gift to offer their voice in the choir, others serve as a greeter or usher, others in their gift being with the children.

Our lesson stops early in the twelfth chapter of I Corinthians, but if you were to read further Paul goes on to talk about the interworking of the various gifts. What if all wanted to sing in the choir, but none wanted to serve on the altar guild? Brandt, don’t answer that question! What everyone felt called to teach Sunday School and no one wanted to attend. Actually, I don’t know what I would do if that happened!

I think you see what I mean. We cannot wish away the gifts that God has given us because they are not the same gift as others have. We can’t look down on others because we have been blessed in one area that is not visible in others.

Rather, we are called to use our gifts for the glory of God, for the building up of the Body, for the edification of the faithful, and for the growth of God’s kingdom. We must pray that God might enlarge and multiply the several gifts we have been entrusted to be the stewards of.

Yes, this is somewhat scary stuff because it requires us to be accountable for what we have been given, and use those wonderful manifestations of the Holy Spirit faithfully and wisely. Being agents of the Holy Spirit commands us to go forth in faith, allowing the Spirit to do His work, working in us that which is well pleasing in His sight. For it is the same Spirit, same Lord, same God which worketh all in all. To Him be ascribed all might, majesty, dominion, and praise both now and evermore.

2011-08-21T07:56:00.002-04:00

Sermon for the Ninth Sunday After Trinity
St. John's Church - Moultrie, GA
August 21, 2011

There is a term that has been used to speak of Anglicanism for years that has in some way become corrupted, but has a use for us this morning in hearing the words from St. Paul to the church in Corinth. I believe I've mentioned this before, but it certainly helps ground our lesson if we know a little something about the church to whom Paul is addressing his concerns. If you really wanted to insult someone, and basically say that they were a sorry lot, un-redeemable, hedonistic, and in general residents of the the pleasure capitol of the world, you called them a Corinthian. Certainly there were plenty of other places in the Ancient Near East with their own vices, but the Corinthian community had a reputation for rampant paganism, debauchery, and sexual immorality surrounding the pagan cult practices of the area. It was a rough place to live a morally upright life because the pervading culture around you was such a hotbed of its antithesis. Unfortunately, we appear to be moving the compass in that direction ourselves as a society.

Going back to my original comment as I opened this sermon, the term I wish to speak on is the phrase via media. What was originally used to describe Anglicanism as somewhat of a middle way between the gross abuses of Roman Catholicism from the Middle Ages and a rejection of the overtly Protestant rejections of everything Catholic, the Church of England sought to find a middle way which was a reformed Catholic form of the Christian faith that was not a wholesale housecleaning that the Protestant and Puritan reformers were advocating. Today, the term has somewhat come to mean that under the umbrella of Anglicanism you will find high church Anglo-Catholics, broad churchmen, low church Evangelicals, including influences of the charismatic movements. Even though we have differing views regarding churchmanship and style of worship, we still proclaim our unwavering belief in the Lordship of Jesus Christ, our wholehearted devotion and worship of Him as our Saviour, and the mission and ministry of the church which he founded.

So, what does that term have to do with us and our lesson from I Corinthians? I'm glad you asked.

One of the things that Paul exhorted his hearers to pay attention to was the dangerous temptation that exists in trying to keep things in balance and keep things in their proper perspective. There is always the temptation to swing from one extreme or the other and swing from strict legalism on the one side to extreme laxity on the other. The danger of becoming just like the Pharisees one the one hand, and making statements like the French enlightenment philosopher Voltaire said on his deathbed, "God will forgive me, it's His business." Or as the Anglican poet W.H. Auden once wrote in his poem The Christmas Oratorio, "Every corner-boy will congratulate himself: 'I'm such a sinner that God has come down in person to save me.' Every crook will argue: 'I like committing crimes. God likes forgiving them. Really, the world is admirably arranged!" On the one extreme there is a moralism that says I can do it if I simply try a little harder, the other says that no matter what I do I'll never succeed so why bother trying. Our Christian life is lived in the via media, the middle way of these two extremes.

One Anglican priest I've begun following speaks of this middle road as follows:

There are a lot of struggles in the Christian life, but as I've walked with Jesus myself and as I've talked with fellow brothers and sisters over the years, one that keeps cropping up over and over is the balance between the extremes of legalisms and license. I think it's fair to say that at different times we've all fallen into the ditches on both sides of the road. Fr those of us who identify as "conservatives," we're probably more likely to be so often thinking of sin and recalling to mind all the Bible's do's and don'ts that we fall into the trap that we can earn God's favor by "keeping the rules." The biggest danger in that is if we don't manage to get back on the road-if we keep walking in the ditch of legalism-we inevitably become self-righteous as we compare ourselves to others and to our own lists. The cross falls out of our vision and the witness and ministry of the Church withers and dies. But we can run off the other side of the road too. Like the Corinthians we can remember that because Christ died for us, we are free from the condemnation of the law and in that knowledge we can start asserting our rights and our freedoms to the point that we forget what it means to walk in love and to live as new creations. Instead we simply insist our freedom and we end up just like the world around us-and again destroy our witness and ministry. But regardless of which ditch we find ourselves in, we strayed off the road and ended up there because we took our eyes off the cross.

When we start trying to earn God's favor it's because we've lost sight of the fact that Jesus, on the cross, has already earned God's favor for us. And when we fall into license because we know we don't have to earn it, we're forgetting the high cost of our freedom-we're forgetting that to pay the penalty for our sins, God himself had to come to earth and die in our place. When we fall into license we forget the price God paid for our freedom, when in fact, that high price should motivate us to serve him, to do what we know to be pleasing to him-ultimately to be supremely loyal to our redeemer-all out of gratitude. Legalism and license: they're both the result of losing sight of the cross.

We are called to live in that via media, that middle of the road between legalism and license. Both extremes are dead end roads that ultimately lead to naught.

Fr. Bill Klock concludes his commentary on this passage from I Corinthians when he says:

We can never earn our salvation or earn God's favour, and yet our love for him and our knowledge of how merciful and gracious he has been to us ought to motivate us to a radical obedience-not because it'll get us brownie points, but because we seek to be loyal and because we're grateful for what he has done. We come each week and are reminded at his Table that we are members of the body of Christ. How then can we leave his Table and go back to a life in which God is not our first and highest priority? We aren't making a sacrifice before a false god, but we still engage in idolatry. Sin, no matter what the specific form, is always at heart a rejection of God's plan for us and a substituting of our own. It's treason against our Creator and Redeemer. As Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount: you can't serve God and mammon-or for that matter demons, whatever form they might take in our modern world. Knowing the grace and mercy and love of God, how can we be against our Lord. His invitation to us to gather and eat around his Table and it partake of the benefits of grace and freedom never give us license for religious and moral licentiousness. No, instead, what it really does is bind us together-all of us-in a common fellowship in, with, through, and around Jesus Christ and his new covenant, in such a way that our behaviour - what we do and how we live-is radicalized toward what Paul calls "the law of Christ"-toward a radical obedience driven boy a profound love for God - a love that itself is rooted in gratitude for just how much he has done for us.

Our church is oriented in a particular fashion to direct all of our attention to one place - the altar and the cross. The cross is the place where the once for all sacrifice took place to atone for the sins of the whole world. Those repeatable sacrifices upon the altar of the Temple are replaced by a never to be repeated sacrifice of the Son of God. Everything that we do, the fundamental component of our worship finds its focal point upon the work of Christ upon the cross. License must be abandoned because of the price that was paid on our behalf. Legalism must be abandoned because all that we do must be borne out of love, not out of some favor we think that we have earned.

The via media is a difficult road to walk because it means that we too must bear our own cross along the via dolorosa or the way of suffering as our Lord did on His way to Calvary. The principal difference comes in knowing that we have the assurance that Jesus has walked that same road before us, and willingly will do so with us as we seek to follow and serve him all the days of our lives; and at the end, the way of suffering ultimately leads us to the way of life everlasting, the destination of those who love God and submit our wills wholly and completely into his never-failing care and protection.

2011-08-15T13:15:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Eighth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
August 14, 2011

One of the hardest things about reading Holy Scripture is the reality that our experiences, culture, upbringing all affect the way that we read and then interpret what the text is saying. Eisegesis is the process where we read something into a particular text based upon many of those factors I just mentioned. Basically, we’re reading into it what we want to hear, or worse, we have already decided what it really says before we begin. One the attributes about Holy Scripture is that it is the Living Word of God, and if it is living, one of our goals should be to have the Scripture interpret us and dissect us as hearers more often than the other way around.

This same thought crossed my mind when I read the collect appointed for today when our prayer opens with the line, “O God, whose never-failing providence ordereth all things both in heaven and earth.” What exactly is the word ordereth getting at?

It’s certainly very easy to fall prey to the temptation to think when things go very, very wrong in our lives to say to ourselves, “Ah Ha, if God so ordered everything here on Earth, then He’s to blame for this mess I’ve gotten myself into.” Or, perhaps from another angle, “Why did God allow this particular event to happen to me in my life?”

However, I think we need to take another look both at what the word ordereth means in this context, as well as, the collect as a whole.

First, in order to end up at the right place, we really need to start at the right place. The phrase itself is an acknowledgement about who God actually is. It is an appeal to the reality that all Order comes from one particular source, and that source is God. If we take time and carefully study Genesis 1 and 2, one of the overarching themes that comes across is the particular order by which God creates out of nothing.

One particular Study Bible I consulted has this subheading for Gen 1:1 – 2:3, “God’s creation and ordering of heaven and earth.” Sounds remarkably like our collect this morning.

The editors went on to say, “The book of Genesis opens with a majestic description of how God first created the heavens and earth and then how he ordered the earth so that it may become his dwelling place. Structured into seven sections, each marked by the use of set phrases, the entire episode conveys the picture of the all-powerful, transcendent God who sets everything in place with consummate skill in conformity to his grand design. The emphasis is mainly on how God orders or structures everything.”

Cambridge physicist and Anglican clergyman John Pulkinghorne said that one of the most important points to extract from Gen 1 can be summed up in the eight-fold repetition of the six words, “And God said, ‘let there be…’”

Before God spoke, that which we know about our world, our universe was chaos and disorder. After God spoke, order displaced disorder, and we continue to live in the Light of God’s handiwork.

Misinterpretation occurs when we neglect the whole of the story. In the beginning God ordered all things rightly, and then gave man one simple command – do not eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Yet, the three-fold temptation took hold, and Eve saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desired to make one wise. She ate of the fruit as did Adam, and the course of human events was altered in an instant. The one thing that Adam and Eve never knew was that in their attempt to become wise and like God they were attempting to exchange their view of order for God’s. They simply saw the forbidden fruit as pleasing for food, beautiful to behold, and possessing something they thought they had to have. It did not work then, and it certainly doesn’t work now. Doesn’t that sound familiar in our own lives? We see something we simply can’t live without; something forbidden comes in an awfully enticing package; all I need is just this one item more.

It happens all too often, we exchange God’s order for our own, and usually it comes with undesirable results.

God calls each of us to live our life striving to conform to His Will – His Order.

From the very beginning, he gave us the example for the right ordering of the family. “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife and the two shall become one flesh.” These same words from Genesis are quoted by Jesus as recorded in both Matthew and Mark, as well as, by St. Paul in his epistle to the Ephesians. The right ordering of husband and wife is a direct commandment from God. Jesus also adds a clinching caveat, “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” When man and wife come together in the bond and covenant of Holy Matrimony, God binds the two into one, and they are no longer the same as they were before. The two have become one flesh. This is why the Church treats Holy Matrimony as a Sacrament, and thus so much more than just a service of the church. That is why the debate that continues to plague The Episcopal Church, and now the Presbyterian Church USA, and the United Methodist Church and others regarding human sexuality, and the debates going on across this country regarding gay marriage or civil unions is that we are exchanging human notions for what we think order is, and these notions stand in direct contradiction to Holy Scripture and God’s intention for order regarding the family and the right ordering of society as a whole. Our calling something right that God says is sinful and wrong doesn’t make it so – it makes it an even more egregious sin against the very One who ordered all things rightly from the beginning of creation.

One of the critical components of the right ordering of the family is that God is and absolutely must be the central focal point of that relationship. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks conveyed this in an article he wrote dated 7/25/09 entitled “We must guard love in this world of easy pleasures.” He opens with these words:

One day I was called on to officiate at two funerals. The families involved were old friends of ours, but they lived in different parts of London and did not know one another. In both cases, the wife had died after a long and happy marriage. One couple had just celebrated, and the other was just about to celebrate, their diamond wedding [anniversary].
What was striking was that both husbands said the same thing to me, in virtually identical words: “I loved her as much as the day we first fell in love.” To hear that once, after 60 years of marriage, would have been rare. To hear it twice on the same day seemed like more than mere coincidence.
Both couples were religious. Prayer and going to the synagogue, celebrating Sabbath and the festivals, and giving time and money to others, were integral to their lives. They knew that in Judaism the home is as sacred as a house of worship. Did these things, I wondered, have something to do with the strength and persistence of their love?
We tend to think that emotions, especially one as capricious as love, are simply what we feel. We don’t choose our likes and dislikes, our fears and joys. They catch us unawares. They can hold us helpless in their grip. The words “passion” and “passive” are related. So we conclude that we can’t help feeling what we feel.
Recent developments in psychotherapy suggest otherwise. Cognitive behavioural therapy is based on the premise that what we feel is influenced by what we think, and we can change the way we think. Positive psychology has had success in turning pessimists into optimists by reframing people’s perceptions. Martin Seligman, the pioneer in this field, calls pessimism “learnt helplessness”, and what can be learnt can be unlearnt.
So it is with love. Someone who believes that marriage is “just a piece of paper”, that sex comes without commitments, and that pleasure is the measure of all things, will have one range of emotions. One who believes that marriage is a sacred covenant, that love is inseparable from loyalty, and that what we love we make sacrifices for, will have another. Because they think different thoughts, they will feel different things.
…He concludes with these words that I believe connect what I’ve been alluding to this morning.
To see love as the force that moves the Universe, to love God and know that God loves us, to celebrate love in ritual and song and know that it means constancy and faithfulness, to understand that love gives and forgives, and to see in the birth of a child the love that brings new life into the world: these give love a better chance. And in a world of easy pleasures, short attention spans and fragile relationships, love needs a better chance.
That is what faith does. Sanctifying love, it protects it from the thousand temptations to which it is daily exposed. That day when I heard two old friends in the midst of grief speak of a love undiminished over time, I thought of Dylan Thomas’s famous words, “Though lovers be lost, love shall not; and death shall have no dominion”, and knew that loving God helps us to love one another.
Why do we hear each and every time we celebrate the Holy Eucharist either the Decalogue or the Summary of the Law? The only way that we can begin to comprehend the grace of God in Christ’s Body and Blood is through constant re-ordering of our lives and wills toward God. Lives lived centered on the Great Commandment will then begin to embody what the rest of our collect speaks about, and prays for.

If we go back to our collect for this morning, the only way we as individuals can ever discern what is harmful for us and what we need to put way is if we acknowledge our necessity to call upon the One who ordereth all things in heaven and on earth. Then and only then, will we begin to receive those things which are profitable for us.

God’s desire is to bless us more than we can ever imagine. Those blessings came with a price, and they still do. It means as St. Paul told the Ephesians that they and we must constantly put off our old self and be renewed in the spirit of our minds and put on the new self (Eph. 4:22-23). It means that we must take up our cross daily and follow Christ. It means exchanging our interpretation of order and exchanging it for God’s. If we are humble enough to do so, then our Lord allows us to receive those good things which are profitable for us, and will ultimately last for all eternity.

2011-08-07T11:55:00.004-04:00

Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
August 7, 2011

There must be a very good reason why three times a year we hear the story from the Gospels regarding Jesus' miraculous feedings. We hear John's account of the feeding of the five thousand twice, on the last Sunday of the church year and then again in the middle of Lent. Today we encounter Mark's telling of the feeding of the four thousand. I can't say that I have a definitive answer as to why this one theme is repeated three times, but it is clear to me that our forefathers wanted us to hear multiple times during the year that we are forever in need of heavenly food and partakers of a meal that has divine origins.

How are we to hear these feeding stories when we hear them three times a year? What thoughts are they meant to invoke when we hear them year-after-year?

I believe that the first point to remember when we contemplate these events is the order in which things happen. The people who were out in the wilderness didn't go out there expecting a miraculous feeding. They went out into the wilderness first to follow this incredible new teacher wherever he led them because they wanted to hear what he had to say. He was saying something to them that they needed to hear, wanted to hear, and had longed to hear. They followed first. That's our calling and mandate as well.

Our call to being an apostle of Jesus comes with the express command to first be a follower. Jesus' first actions upon his return from His temptation in the wilderness was the calling of the first apostles and his first words to them were follow me. We don't hear of them asking first what was in it for them. There were those would be disciples who asked if they could bury their dead first before following or those who needed to say their goodbyes before setting off to be a follower, but if you remember Jesus told those folks to let the dead bury their own dead, and if you need to cover all of your bases first you are perhaps not quite ready for what it means to be a follower of Jesus.

Those who were listening to Jesus' words that day were seemingly unconcerned with their physical needs. They were following with an almost reckless abandon to the notion that they were eventually going to need to eat and where was that food going to come from. Are we able to approach discipleship in those same terms? Are we willing to follow regardless of the cost and follow wherever we are led? Are we prepared to give of ourselves in terms of our time, our talents, and our treasure to the point that it beings to be uncomfortable? Those 4,000 some odd followers did just that and we are called upon to do the same.

What is it going to cost us to do so?

Well according to the story, if we are sent away with no nourishment for the journey ahead we will be famished and will become faint along the way. Following Jesus is not an easy thing. It requires a death to our way of doing things and an acceptance of God's way of doing things. The word for repentance means just that, a giving up of going in one direction, doing a complete 180, and going in another. As St. Paul declares in our epistle lesson, the direction that we are going in on our present trajectory is a dead end that ultimately leads to death - for the wages of sin is death. Repentance, metanoia, is a turning and rejection of that path and accepting God's free gift which leads to life - but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The crucial point for us to remember is that it will require all that have and all that we are to continue on this road. There is one piece that still remains and it is of course the crux of this feeding miracle which is the food itself.

Jesus had compassion in the crowds. I know I mentioned this in a previous sermon that the word for compassion here has the connotation of being moved at a depth and level that permeates to the pit of one's very soul. The word here denotes a profound stirring of the emotions, and that is the level to which Jesus is moved in recognizing the crowds need for nourishment for their being sent forth. Thus, Jesus being moved to compassion is preparing to give them sustenance for what lay ahead. That nourishment comes in a most remarkable form.

Order here is everything. What do I mean? In one sense the crowds were already being fed. They were feeding and feasting on the Words of Jesus which is of course the Bread of Life. Their first and foremost source of nourishment was Jesus' words which they had been hearing for the past three days. They followed first, and then before they were to be sent forth were they fed with physical bread for their life lived in the world.

We too are called to reenact that same order. Our first mandate is to follow. Follow with that complete abandonment in which we like St. Augustine find our rest and repose in God. When we do this we will of course be famished and faint along the way if we are not being fed by Jesus. That of course comes in two forms. First, we must daily feed upon His word - Holy Scripture. As we pray on the 2nd Sunday in Advent, we are to hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the words of the Bible. You notice that last clause to inwardly digest is the only way that true nourishment can take place.

Second, we must feed upon Jesus himself which we do each time we celebrate the Holy Eucharist. Before Jesus fed the crowds to performed a Eucharist - he gave thanks for that which he was about to bless and give. So too do we give thanks for what Jesus has already done and prepares to do again each time we gather around his holy altar to celebrate the mystery of His Most Precious Body and Blood. We give thanks through the hymns we sing, the confession of our sins, through the alms we give for the mission of the church, and for the bread and wine that will become for us heavenly food and drink.

There are two additional points that we are to glean from this story.

We must recognize that when our Lord feeds us we are fed with an abundance that we simply cannot fathom or comprehend. In both of the feeding miracles recorded in Scripture, we read that the crowds were completely satisfied, and there was an abundance of fragments left over. In the Eucharistic sacrifice, we believe that through the power of the Holy Spirit simple elements of bread and wine become for us the very Body and Blood of Jesus fully and completely. There is nothing left out. The ordinary becomes something extraordinary. We receive Jesus into us through the abundance of his never failing grace and mercy.

Finally, the crumbs that were left over were not carelessly discarded but were commanded to be gathered together. Why? Why is this detail carefully preserved in each of the feeding miracles? The fragments left over are to be used to repeat the process by us as we are sent forth as Jesus' disciples and apostles. We are to take the nourishment that we receive as his followers and then go and nourish others. We are to take Jesus and make him known to a broken, hurting, and famished world. We have the one and only source of food that will truly satisfy the hunger of those who are fainting along the way. We have received the Bread of Heaven and the source of life and it has been given to us in order that we might then share it with others.

We are both disciples of Jesus, ones who follow and we are his apostles, ones who have been sent to feed and nourish others. But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. The renewal of our strength comes through our following of the Lord Jesus, through the feeding of our souls from His Holy Word and His Body, and our mission is taking those precious fragments and feeding the fatigued and fainting world through the power of God's Holy and life-giving Spirit.

2011-08-07T11:55:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
July 31, 2011

“Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil. For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled. Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, the same shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I say unto you, That except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.”

If you noticed the citation at the beginning of this morning’s Gospel lesson you will see that it comes from the fifth chapter of St. Matthew, and thus, a portion of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. How appropriate to have a portion from the Sermon on the Mount as our adult forum over the past few weeks has been taking a look at the beatitudes and sermon in a bit more depth.

I don’t know about you, but this passage makes me rather uncomfortable. I want to shrink back from a passage such as one like this and simply wallow in my impassable situation of not being able to attain to the standards by which I am called. After all, we didn’t have to look very far in the beatitudes to discover those places where we don’t quite measure up or where we fall woefully short. And what are we to make of the verse that we opened with that declares that unless our righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees we will not enter into the kingdom of heaven. I might as well sit down, and we might as well pack up and go home because no one is going to be able to exceed that type or righteousness. Or can we? What is it that Jesus is trying to say here and get us to understand?

As we all recall, the scribes and Pharisees were not exactly high up on our Lord’s list of people to praise and exalt. Like his cousin before him, Jesus had some very scathing words for these keepers of the law to the nth degree. They called them broods of vipers, Jesus told his disciples to beware of the yeast and leaven of the Pharisees, they were referred to as whitewashed tombs full of dead men’s bones. What is going on here? Are we called to exceed that type of righteousness? That doesn’t exactly sound like the kind of thing we are called to emulate.

Two of the most faithful expositors of Scripture within Anglicanism are the late nineteenth century Bishop of Liverpool J. C. Ryle, and the late Dr. John R. W. Stott, rector emeritus of All Souls Langham Palace who died earlier this week. Their writings are so helpful in unpacking some of the more troubling portions of the Gospels and I resort to their works regularly. Their understanding of these verses and this passage in particular I think will help to shed light on what we have just heard.

One of the points that these two Anglican Divines highlight is that Jesus is here praising the scribes and the Pharisees in the sense that they do in fact recognize and hold on to the teachings of the Law, and their full acceptance of the fact that God’s authority is writ large in the words of the Law. They understand that a piece of their very identity as Jews and the People of Israel is that they are the benefactors and recipients of the Torah, the Law. In other words, a portion of their being considered righteous was in their faithful keeping of the Law. This was seen as something good, and Jesus is in fact saying that the Pharisees were accorded some measure of righteousness because they were faithful to the Torah.

However, the twist comes when we examine what it really means for us to exceed the righteousness of the Pharisees.

God is not doing away with the law. God is not telling us that because he sent Jesus into the world all bets are off, and the law doesn’t apply to us any longer. That doesn’t hold water with what our Lord said in the passage I quoted at the beginning of the sermon. Jesus didn’t come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. Nothing from the law will pass away until all has been fulfilled, which happens through Jesus’ atonement and death upon the cross. Those who teach that the Old Testament is no longer applicable to the Christian life do not teach the Christian faith. I realize that is a rather harsh statement, but it is the truth. Anyone who says that they belong to a New Testament only Church are not a part of the church catholic.

The fundamental difference comes in the why. Why do we obey and follow the Ten Commandments? Why do we still read the Old Testament as a part of sacred scripture, for our learning and instruction? We don’t do it, or at least we shouldn’t do it, just as a matter of checking off things on a to-do list. The major flaw with the Pharisees and lawyers and religious authorities was that they were keeping the law with their head and Jesus is calling for a keeping of the law with our heart. This is the only way that our righteousness can exceed that of the Pharisees. Only when we heed the words of the prophet Jeremiah, “But this shall be the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel; After those days, saith the LORD, I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, and they shall be my people.” Or from Ezekiel, “And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them.” Or as the Psalmist declares, “BLESSED is the man that hath not walked in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stood in the way of sinners, * and hath not sat in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the LORD; * and in his law will he exercise himself day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the water-side, * that will bring forth his fruit in due season….But the LORD knoweth the way of the righteous; * and the way of the ungodly shall perish.”
The Christian life is the life lived in full recognition that the very God who gives us life gave us His law, and then sent Himself in the form of His Son Jesus Christ to be the complete fulfillment of that law. He gave us the law not to simply show us who we are, but to show us who He is. The law is an expression of his love. In a way that sounds quite oxymoronic. How can the law be an expression of God’s love?

It is an expression of God’s love in exactly the same way that we do the same things for our children. We give our children laws and rules not to exercise some arbitrary, authoritarian rule over them, but to give them complete freedom to enjoy the wonderful things of this life within an established set of boundaries. What happens when those rules are broken or the boundaries are pushed? Well, in the best case scenario there is simply discipline to help them understand why the rules are there and why they should be followed. In a worst case scenario, someone is hurt, or maimed, or killed.

Love is the underlying principle behind the law. Because God loves us he gave us his Law and then gave us Himself who is the perfect fulfillment of that Law so that we then might be able to see what true perfection looks like. We are then free to gaze upon that perfect fulfillment which is Jesus Christ and look to him as the “author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

How are we to exceed the righteousness of the Pharisees? By living out the words of our liturgy in which we come to God in faith and offer and present unto Him our selves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice. That means meditating upon his Law and seeing it for what it is. It means giving our selves wholly into his never failing care and service. It means the life-long journey toward wholeness and health that comes only through faith in Jesus Christ. It means rendering unto God true and laudable service in the worship of Him and in the outworking of that worship which is service toward our fellow Man.

“Blessed are those that are undefiled in the way, and walk in the law of the Lord….And my delight shall be in thy commandments, which I have loved. My hands also will I lift up unto thy commandments, which I have loved; and my study shall be in thy statutes.”

O GOD, who hast prepared for them that love thee such good things as pass man's understanding: Pour into our hearts such love toward thee, that we, loving thee above all things, may obtain thy promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

2011-07-17T23:09:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
July 17, 2011

We’ve all had down times. I don’t believe that anyone here can say that life has been nothing but peaches and cream. Now, if I’ve mischaracterized someone, please be sure to meet me after church. We go through ups and downs in life; there are good days and there are bad days; there are blessings and there are curses; we have intense spiritual highs and at times deep spiritual lows. These are the cold, hard facts. Life doesn’t always serve up exactly what we need, exactly when we need it or desire it.

Now that I’ve begun on such an upbeat, positive manner, I want us to take a closer look at the Psalm that we’ve just recited a few moments ago and see what the Psalmist wishes for us to hear. If you remember back a few weeks ago, I said that throughout Trinitytide we would be reciting the 119th Psalm in its entirety over the twenty-two weeks of this season. We read the fourth octet this morning and we began with a most stark assertion, “My soul cleaveth to the dust.”

I have sat with that phrase all week long.

“My soul cleaveth to the dust.”

The overarching message of this sermon deals with those six words. There is a tremendous depth in the brevity of that phrase and I pray that we might understand the significance of what is being conveyed to us this morning.

To begin with, this verse makes a stark shift from the preceding verse. Last Sunday when we ended on verse twenty-four, we ended on a high note when we declared, “For thy testimonies are my delight, and my counselor.” The Psalmist declares that because he is a keeper of God’s law, he has become, as it were, a “stranger upon earth,” and that, “Princes also did sit and speak against me.”

We are going to find that out as we grow deeper and deeper into the full stature of Christ that things are going to be different and appear so more often. We might as well get used to the fact that one of three things is most likely going to happen: we will be ignored by those who are apathetic to what we say or do; we will be mocked and perhaps persecuted by those who hate what we have to say and are doing; or we will bring along with us those whose hearts, and minds, and souls are touched by what we have to say and what they’ve seen us doing. As I see it, those are the only three choices.

In returning to our Psalm it seems clear that he is not going to concern himself with the effects of the first two groups – the apathetic who make him feel like a stranger or the Princes who speak against him, but rather, that he is going to occupy himself with God’s statutes and delight in God’s testimonies for they are his counselors.

So far, so good; life beings to kick in, temptations fall his way – our way, a false sense of longing and security from the things of this world creep into his thoughts and we begin to hear an honest plea of the Psalmist’s spiritual condition, “My soul cleaveth to the dust.”

What are we to make of that phrase? I would hope that we might understand it as a cry of the heart as an acknowledgement of our true nature. When we pray in the General Confession of Morning or Evening Prayer that, “there is no health in us,” we are in essence repeating the first half of the 25th verse of the 119th Psalm.

Since we were formed from the dust of the earth, and since we are reminded each year on Ash Wednesday, “Remember, O Man, that thou art dust, and unto dust shalt thou return,” that a part of our very essence is wrongly trying to get back to our point of origin – the trying to return to our false home. The problem is this earth is not our true and ultimate home. We aren’t destined to live here for eternity, but rather in the fully realized presence of Almighty God.

It’s important to make not here the incredible parallels to the creation narrative as found in Genesis chapter two. We recall the familiar passage where Scripture says, “And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” At the end of that chapter God institutes the sacrament of Holy Matrimony when He says, “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife; and they shall be one flesh.” The three central words in our Psalm are found right here in Genesis 2 – soul, cleave, and dust. The issue at hand for us is the fact that the words from Genesis 2 speak of a rightly oriented use of those words, and the passage from Psalm 119 speaks of a soul incorrectly oriented.

What we have in these first six words of this portion of the Psalm is the admission of a low point in the Psalmist’s life. It seems to indicate that he is honest enough to admit that even though his heart’s longing is for the Law he is facing an uphill battle with his soul’s corrupted bend toward its improper origin – it is cleaving to the wrong thing.

Let us remember that our souls rightful slant should be toward its true source – God Himself. However, when Man headed the words of the serpent our longing shifted away from God and toward that from which we came prior to God’s Spirit being breathed into us. Adam and Eve sought protection and cover from the garden to hide their nakedness rather than protection and cover from their Maker. They tried to seek solace in the creation rather than from the Creator.

When Adam and Eve fell Mankind received a curse for its disobedience but so did the serpent. “Thou art cursed above all cattle…upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life.”

This earth and the dust of its surface will one day pass away, and ever since the Fall the serpent, Satan, has been feeding upon the dust of the earth. The dilemma that the Psalmist declares and that we too must admit is that in our times of being downtrodden and weak there is the ever present temptation to cleave to the one thing that is merely an illusion of stability, comfort, and peace – the dust and the things of the earth. Thankfully the Psalmist does not remain in this position forever for we hear him declare that the only true source of life is not in the cleaving to the dust from which we were formed but in the cleaving to the Spirit that was breathed into us at creation and is expressed in God’s Logos – his Word. Certainly here we are referring to God’s Word written, but implicit in that statement is God’s Word who became incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ.

The question for us is whether or not our soul will cleave to the dust or will it cleave to the one who created the dust and gives us his Word. Will we be like Judas whose soul never ceased cleaving to the dust of the earth and ended in despair and death? Or will we be like St. Peter whose soul was cleaving to the dust of the earth as he declared with fervent conviction that he never knew Jesus, and upon hearing the cock crow went out weeping, feel upon his face, and cried out for mercy?

Many times throughout our lives, probably before this day is over, we will with complete certainty come to the realization that our soul is cleaving to the dust of the earth. When that happens and we come to that realization may we ever pray with the Psalmist for the Lord to give us life that comes only through the hearing, heeding and obeying His holy Word.

2011-07-13T17:28:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Third Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
July 10, 2011

I really need to be sitting in the congregation today listening to someone else give this sermon. I need to hear these words because they address one of the hardest struggles in my own life as one who is striving to live the Christian life and attempting to take small steps toward holiness. Now before you begin to squirm in the pew and think that I’m about to turn the pulpit into my own confessional you can breathe easy because that is something that I will never do. The pulpit is never the place for the preacher to work out his own issues and bear his own burdens. No, I’m simply placing myself in the position of the patient; I, like you, am coming to hear the words of the Great Physician who administers his healing balm for our souls at all times if we are willing to submit ourselves to His never failing care and protection.

That being said, I am going to make one self-disclosure that I believe will help ground what I am about to say regarding that insidious sin of pride that draws us further and further from God’s presence because of its very nature. I think some of you have perhaps heard this before in other settings, and it pertains to my days as a high schooler. Most of you probably remember those awards that each class hands out where they select a boy and girl as most likeable, or best dressed, or biggest flirt, or most outgoing. I was the proud recipient of the award for being the most right. This was not an assessment of my political leanings, but was actually a most truthful statement of fact. I hated to be wrong. I never wanted to lose an argument or have my position questioned. I was the Andrew Wilkow of my school – I was right, they were wrong, that’s the end of the discussion.

Unfortunately, the more things change, the more they stay exactly the same.

We heard in our Epistle lesson from First St Peter about the attitude of Christ’s disciples and how they are to humble themselves toward one another. Our lesson began mid-chapter, and the first few verses that precede what we just heard speak about the relationship between the elders and the younger members of the community. Peter declares, “The elders which are among you I exhort, who am also an elder, and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory that shall be revealed: Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind; Neither as being lords over God’s heritage, but being ensamples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away. Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder.”

There will always be the temptation to lord over others with our knowledge or our position of influence or our status in life. It’s very easy to think that because of who we are there will always be others who will need us or what we have to offer them and thus, gives us the license to be proud or prideful.

I’m sure you can call to mind examples of people who have exhibited this type of attitude in which you were made to feel like you had absolutely nothing to offer and as long as you knew your place as the dutiful student or subordinate or co-worker everything was fine.

How did things work out in the long run? What was the long term relationship with that supervisor or teacher? It was probably tenuous at best, fraught with animosity at worst. Why?

Pride is perhaps the worst of sins because it is a direct affront to that most noble theological virtue of charity. One who strives to foster a spirit of charity seeks the love of the other over one’s self. Charity always seeks to displace pride.

St. Paul in the First Epistle to the Corinthians in the thirteenth chapter, which we hear read on the Sunday before Lent begins, tells us that if we speak of earthly things well or of heavenly things well that if we do not have charity we are nothing. If we can prophesy, or understand incredible mysteries, or have remarkable knowledge of things temporal or spiritual, but don’t posses love, then we are nothing. Suppose we have the strongest faith so that we could remove mountains or give away all our goods to feed the poor, or even suffer death on behalf of this faith, but do not exercise charity, it does us no good. “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth.”

All of these attributes of charity, of love, are the counter virtues of the vice of pride. If you leave today and re-read I Corinthians 13, I believe you will see that St. Paul dedicates an entire chapter to a letter to a church in the most wayward of places, Corinth, to keep their pride in check. He is admonishing them to remember that the only way that they were going to stand out amongst the crowd in the See city of hedonism, materialism, humanism, pluralism, pantheism, and any other ism you’d like to add, was not through some type of new moralism, but by loving God with all of their heart, and loving their fellow Corinthians as counter-cultural as that was. Charity not pride is to be the benchmark of a Christian disciple.

So how do we get to the place where charity reigns, and pride is arrested?

We must begin in the one place that all who have sought this same task have begun – in prayer. We must ask God to help us. “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.” Our collect for this morning exhorts us to the same task, “O LORD, we beseech thee mercifully to hear us; and grant that we, to whom thou hast given an hearty desire to pray, may, by thy mighty aid, be defended and comforted in all dangers and adversities.” What greater adversity and danger is there than to fall prey to the sin of pride? There truly is no greater danger because pride is the sin that led to the fall of Lucifer, the prince of darkness. It is the sin that displaces God from His rightful place as the Lord of life and light.

We are to come seeking solace and comfort and grace from God’s Holy Word and the most Holy Sacrament of the Altar. We must have our lives shaped and formed by these two great gifts that we have received from our Lord. We receive the Word of God through our study, devotion and worship, and through His precious Body and Blood. When we deprive ourselves of these great benefits we do so to the peril of our very soul.

Finally, we must share what we have received with others in a spirit of joyful thanksgiving. As is often said at the offertory, “let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” The world must see us as the new creatures that we are as the children of our heavenly Father.

Praying for the gift of charity is one thing. Study of God’s Word and the reception of the Sacraments is yet another thing. Taking this Good News out into the world is yet another and a mark of a true disciple. We can’t keep this to ourselves, but rather, we are commanded to take this message into the whole world.

“And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, [even] unto the end of the world.”

We have work to do. It is hard work, tedious work, challenging work, but it is work that has supreme benefits not just for today or tomorrow, but for all eternity. May Almighty God empower us for the task that lies ahead as His disciples. To Him be ascribed all might, majesty, dominion, and power both this day and evermore.

2011-06-25T22:21:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the First Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
June 26, 2011

There is a shift in focus in our readings from now until the end of the church year and Advent Sunday, at the end of November. It has been said that the Kalendar is broken into two halves, with the first half from Advent through Whitsunday, and the second half being Trinitytide or Ordinary Time. The readings for the first half of the year speaks of the life of Christ in which our lessons speak most directly about Jesus’ life and redemptive work. The second half of the church year makes a bit of a transition and looks at the life of a disciple or our life in Christ.

One of the great benefits of the Internet and facebook in particular is the opportunity to meet people and share information. I’ve had the privilege of getting to know an Anglican priest from Canada who is currently re-publishing many great works of Anglican theology and producing some of his own works as well. I purchased two commentaries that he has written and I look forward to reading and using them in the future.

One book that he produced is an expositional commentary on the 119th Psalm. In the introduction he pointed out something that was previously unknown to me. The first Book of Common Prayer produced in 1549 had a proper Psalm appointed for each celebration of the Holy Eucharist. For this season of Trinitytide the Psalm appointed for the first 22 weeks after Trinity was an ordered reading of Psalm 119.

I’m not sure if you’ve ever studied this Psalm, but it is the longest chapter in the Bible – 176 verses. The Psalm itself is unique in its structure. There are twenty-two letters in the Hebrew alphabet, and the Psalm contains twenty-two eight-verse divisions. Each division is an acrostic because the first word in each verse begins with same letter of the Hebrew alphabet. For example, in verses 1-8, the first division that we recited this morning, the first word in each verse begins with the Hebrew letter ‘Aleph.’ The second group of eight verses begins with the Hebrew letter ‘Beth.’ This pattern continues throughout the rest of the Psalm, and thus, presents the ABC’s, so to speak, of the godly life that is deeply rooted in the Word of God.

The eighteenth century theologian Jonathan Edwards once said of this chapter of the Bible:

I know of no part of the Holy Scriptures where the nature and evidences of true and sincere godliness are so fully and largely insisted on and delineated as in the 119th Psalm. The Psalmist declares his design in the first verse of the Psalm, keeps his eye on it all along, and pursues it to the end. The excellency of holiness is represented as the immediate object of a spiritual taste and delight. God’s law – that grand expression and emanation of the holiness of God’s nature, and prescription of holiness to the creature – is all along represented as the great object of love, the complacence, and the rejoicing of the gracious nature, which prizes God’s commandments ‘above gold, yea, the finest gold;’ and to which they are ‘sweeter than honey and the honey-comb.’

Martin Luther once said of this Psalm that it was the, “gospel in a nutshell,” and that he, “would not trade one page of it for the entire world.” I don’t believe that I am going to preach 22 sermons in a row exclusively on Psalm 119, but you can count on the fact that we will recite the Psalm in its entirety over the next 22 weeks, and there will be some exposition of the eight verses assigned for each Sunday.

Blessed are the undefiled in the way, who walk in the law of the LORD.

Just this past week I’ve been reading various news reports about a movement whose goal is the promotion of more religious tolerance amongst faith groups. According to the faith shared website they would like to offer an event, “as a way to engage faith leaders on the national and community levels in interfaith events intended to highlight respect among people of different faiths. Through photos, video clips and print coverage distributed around the world, we are looking to display visual images that reflect the mutual respect that is shared by so many Muslims, Christians, Jews and other Americans, standing together as a strong counterpoint to the negative images that have dominated the domestic and international news.”

June 26, today, is the date that a large number of churches are hosting this type of interfaith gathering that organizers hope, “will create opportunities across the United States for faith communities to strengthen ties with each other. We will counter the misperception, including in the Arab and Muslim worlds, that the United States is a nation defined by the widely covered images of the marginal few who would burn a Qur’an, rather than by a proud and longstanding tradition of religious freedom, tolerance and pluralism. In communities across the United States, this project will not only serve as a model for tolerance and cooperation and promote local faith leaders as champions of such, but it will also create a concrete opportunity to build and strengthen working ties between faith communities moving forward.”

Finally, “Faith Shared asks houses of worship across the country to organize events involving clergy reading from each other’s sacred texts. An example would be a Christian Minister, Jewish Rabbi and Muslim Imam participating in a worship service or other event. Suggested readings will be provided from the Torah, the Gospels, and the Qur’an, but communities are encouraged to choose readings that will resonate with their congregations. Involvement of members from the Muslim community is key. We will also provide suggestions on how to incorporate this program into your regular worship services.”

Why do I even bring this up? What difference does it make for us?

It makes all the difference in the world – and in the world to come. Dr. Carreker spoke so eloquently, clearly, and faithfully upon the Holy Trinity last Sunday, and asked us an important question – should we concern ourselves with a doctrine such as the Trinity? The answer should be a resounding yes, because the only way for us to wrestle with an issue such as faith shared and others like it.

The Christian life is lived in obedience to what God commands, in submission to His will, through the proclamation of His Word, and in making disciples of all nations. The only way that we can obey what God commands, submit to His will, proclaim His word, and make disciples in His name depends on one very important thing – do we know who God is? As we sang in the processional hymn last Sunday and Dr. Carreker proclaimed, we bind ourselves to the Name of the Trinity. That Name is the Trinity. The ancient Jews had a name for God that was so sacred and so holy that they would never write it or utter it out loud. Through Jesus Christ we are given the words to say and proclaim that name and we are commanded to make disciples in that name – the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Blessed are the undefiled in the way, who walk in the law of the LORD.

Our only source of blessedness comes through our walking in the law of the Lord. Our world presents us with all sorts of supposed blessings that knows not the law of the Lord and thus will leave us empty and longing for more. True blessing comes in one place and one place alone.

Groups like faith alive makes the fatal mistake that tolerance and pluralism is some recipe for blessing and peace. There will be those who cry peace, peace when there is no peace. If we know not the Prince of Peace, how will we ever know peace on earth and good will amongst men?

We’ve made a shift in our readings from those that speak of the life of Christ to how a life in Christ is lived in the world. May we daily bind unto ourselves the strong Name of the Trinity, proclaim that Name to a broken and hurting world, so that we might continue undefiled in the way, and walk in the law of the Lord.

2011-06-25T14:35:00.001-04:00

Sermon for Whitsunday
St. John’s – Moultrie, GA
June 12, 2011

For the most part, everyone loves a birthday party. Even those who will turn 40 in just over a month! Why do we love birthdays even if we try and tell ourselves that we can’t believe we are getting a year older, or everything is downhill from whatever contrived age we have set for ourselves?

I think one of the reasons that we like birthdays is because it usually means being surrounded by people who love us, care for us, are glad that we are in their lives. Birthdays in some way make us think that we are special.

When kept in its proper sense, birthdays do make us special because it is an opportunity to give thanks to God for the gift of another year of life to be lived to His honour and glory. We can look back on the year past and call to remembrance those things that have happened to us, both good and bad, and know that all things work together for good for those who love God.

Believe it or not, in our church there are only two people who share the same birthday – Matt Paine and Gerry Webb. However, as members of Christ’s church we all share the same birthday as His body, and that day is today. On this the Feast of Pentecost or Whitsunday, we traditionally celebrate the church’s birthday, and it’s appropriate to do so in a special manner.

After all, the church, Christ’s Body, was the very thing He died for, redeemed, sent His spirit to empower, and prepares as a bride for her wedding day. Thus, it is very meet and right that we should celebrate this day with every fiber of our being.

Our Epistle lesson tells the traditional Pentecost story where the Holy Ghost, the Comforter who was promised to the Apostles, came to them in a most extraordinary manner. The Gospel lessons that we heard over the past few weeks alluded to the event that we just heard a few minutes ago – that first Pentecost Sunday.

The Apostles had already taken care of a bit of business after Jesus’ ascension, and that was in the selection of Matthias to take the place of Judas in the number of the twelve. Following this event we hear that the Apostles were “all with one accord in one place.” They were together, they were in fellowship with one another. They were praying, worshipping God, and recalling the events that they had witnessed over the past 50 days since Jesus’ resurrection. They were obedient to the command when Jesus departed from them on Ascension Day. As recorded in the final chapter of Luke’s Gospel, “And, behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high. And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven. And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy: And were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God.”

Melville Scott summarizes so beautifully the events of that first Pentecost:

The birth of the church can be pinpointed by both its time and its place.

These were both definite, thus marking the reality of the gift. The time when the Church came into being was a Sunday – that every Sunday for ever might be both an Easter-day and a Whit Sunday, the living commemoration of a living Saviour. The time was at a festival – that “these things should not be done in a corner,” and that it should be seen from the first that the Church was not for one nation only.
The time was at the Festival of Pentecost, in which the remembrance was made every year of the writing of the Law on tablets of stone, and thus was fitly designed for His coming Who should write upon the heart the new law of liberty (Jer. 31:33). As the festival of harvest (Lev. 23:17) Pentecost fitly witnessed the first ingathering of souls, the first swathe cut by the Saviour’s sickle and made into the bread of God. The place was significant also, for “they were all with one accord in one place,” and the Holy Spirit was thus given to the whole Church, and to individuals as members of the Church.
Its manner was most striking and impressive. The gift came from above, and came as wind – mysterious, invisible, mighty, as described by our Saviour (in S. John 3:8), and as the very breath of life. The gift as fire which should warm the cold and chilly heart, should lighten men’s darkness, soften men’s hardness, burn away men’s dross, and kindle the dead matter of the world into Heavenly flame.
He came one fire for all, for there is one Spirit and one body; but He came as fire distributing itself so that “it sat upon each one of them,” for, though given to the whole body, He is given to every member of the same for his vocation and ministry, “dividing to each man severally as He will.” There is one Fire but many tongues, many tongues but one Fire. He came as tongues, to persuade, not to force; as tongues of fire, for he persuades not by human eloquence, but by Divine inspiration.
The first result of His coming was the miraculous gift of tongues, a striking symbol of the nature of the Church of Christ. As the languages of men are the result and perpetuation of division, so the one message made plain to all was the proclamation that divisions should pass away, and that in the Catholic Church there should be neither Jew nor Greek. The Gospel addresses man as man: tells of a universal need, a universal grace, and of the perpetual expansion and adaptation of the one body for all races, times, and needs.

Mr. Scott hits on something that I’ve never heard before, and yet brings such clarity to that miraculous event – One fire, many tongues. Even though this seems completely intuitive, I’ve never thought of it that way before. St. Augustine at the very beginning of his Confessions wrestled with this notion of the indivisibility of God. He asked some very fascinating questions that speak about what the Apostles received when the Holy Ghost was come upon them that first Pentecost morn.

Do the heaven and earth then contain Thee, since Thou fillest them? or dost Thou fill them and yet overflow, since they do not contain Thee? And whither, when the heaven and the earth are filled, pourest Thou forth the remainder of Thyself? or hast Thou no need that aught contain Thee, who containest all things, since what Thou fillest Thou fillest by containing it? for the vessels which Thou fillest uphold Thee not, since, though they were broken, Thou wert not poured out. And when Thou art poured out on us, Thou art not cast down, but Thou upliftest us; Thou art not dissipated, but Thou gatherest us. But Thou who fillest all things, fillest Thou them with Thy whole self? or, since all things cannot contain Thee wholly, do they contain part of Thee? and all at once the same part? or each its own part, the greater more, the smaller less? And is, then one part of Thee greater, another less? or, art Thou wholly every where, while nothing contains Thee wholly?

Augustine was asking truly practical questions that should resonate with us as well. When we receive God’s Holy Spirit do we just receive a small portion of God, or do we receive Him wholly? When God comes into our life, we receive all of Him, not just some portion. It is not like some get more of God than others; all who call upon Him receive Him completely.

The Feast of Pentecost is one of those significant days on the Kalendar in which there are two collects, two Epistles, and two Gospel lessons appointed. The alternative Epistle lesson from St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians speaks to this question as well:

NOW there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. And there are differences of administrations, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal. For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit; to another faith by the same Spirit; to another the gifts of healing by the same Spirit; to another the working of miracles; to another prophecy; to another discerning of spirits; to another divers kinds of tongues; to another the interpretation of tongues: but all these worketh that one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will. For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body: so also is Christ. For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body, whether we be Jews or Gentiles, whether we be bond or free; and have been all made to drink into one Spirit. For the body is not one member, but many.

What a glorious revelation that when we become part of Christ’s church, and receive Jesus Christ as our Lord, our Saviour, our Redeemer, and His Spirit rests upon us we receive Him in totality. We don’t have to look around and wonder if someone else is getting more of God, or a better part of God, and that we are in some way being left out or missing something. When we come to this table in a few moments, as we “offer and present unto thee, O Lord, our selves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice unto thee; humbly beseeching thee, that we, and all others who shall be partakers of this Holy Communion, may worthily receive the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son Jesus Christ, be filled with thy grace and heavenly benediction, and made one body with him, that he may dwell in us, and we in him.”

Everyone who calls upon the Lord Jesus will receive him, all of him. We don’t just get some miniscule piece of God, but Him in all of His totality. What a wonderful gift to receive. The only question for us to ponder is whether or not God will get all of us in return. Will we give Him our selves, our souls and bodies, or just some portion? He gives us His all, should we not do the same?

2011-06-25T14:34:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Sunday after Ascension Day
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
June 5, 2011

Earlier this week I came across an article on the Internet that intrigued me simply by its title. The title of the article was “Five Words That Could Save the Church.” I was looking forward to reading it, but as I started reading I began to get quickly frustrated with what the author put forward. It was written by Ian Morgan Cron who was the founding pastor Trinity Church in Greenwich, CT, which according to the tagline is a community committed to “social justice as well as communicating the Christian story through the arts.” Since it is short I will read it in its entirety, and I think you will begin to see where I began to disagree with Mr. Cron’s arguments.

Five words could prevent the public brawls between Christians who differ in their opinions on social and theological issues.
“…but I might be wrong.”
Pepper an impassioned debate with those five words with someone you’ve previously denounced as a heretic or traitor to the cause and an amazing thing happens.
It tells your “opponent” on the other side of the issue that you care more about the mutual pursuit of truth rather than in placing another check in your camp’s win column. It communicates that maintaining Christian unity despite your differences is more important to you than scoring points and dancing in your “opponent’s” end-zone.
Who knows, if spoken with a true spirit of humility, something close to civility might break out and confused onlookers might believe Christian leaders are different than the shrill ideologues they see on cable news every night.
“…but I might be wrong.”
It would be disingenuous if we attached these words to the end of every sentence. We all have spiritual and moral convictions we believe are non-negotiable, but can’t the humility associated with those five words define the tone of our dialog?
My friend Jim Wallis of Sojourners is an exemplar of someone who practices this gracious approach to public discourse. He brings together Christians who lean both left and right to work together on poverty and caring for creation. In areas of agreement, he builds on common ground. In areas of disagreement, both he and his colleagues offer grace in the spirit of… “but I might be wrong.”
Today I’m following St. Paul’s advice “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”
It’s hard to argue against that position unless you’re certain that my decision to use the NIV translation of this passage proves I’m a heretic and that I should be publicly disgraced for it.

Certainly there are points of disagreement amongst Christians regarding some of the particulars surrounding baptism, the Eucharist, spiritual gifts such as healing and speaking in tongues, forms of church governance, even which translation of Scripture to be used in church. If we didn’t have differences regarding these issues and others, there would still be one unified catholic church, and not the appalling number of different denominations that we have today. This is definitely not what our Lord had in mind when he prayed that we might be one as He and the Father were one. I feel fairly secure in saying that many of our denominational differences grieve God’s heart and schism is a grievous sin against charity.

If this is what Mr. Cron is talking about, then perhaps he has a point. However, I believe he’s approaching things from a different perspective and one that is permeating the church from all directions. I believe that he’s coming at things through a hermeneutic of suspicion that is insidious at its core. It’s a belief system that has no real firm foundation on which to stand and everything is up for grabs. We are told in Scripture to let our yea be yea and our nay be nay. If you remember from our Lenten study of the Book of Revelation that the Laodicean church’s problem was that they were neither cold nor hot, but lukewarm and for that reason they were spewed out of God’s mouth.

When I think of the persecution of the church that has taken place since its inception, I could never ever imagine St. Peter, or St. Paul, or St. Andrew, or Justin Martyr, or Thomas Cranmer, or the martyrs of this century saying to their tormenters that they might be wrong. A statement such as that one seems to fly in the face of the blood that has been spilled for the sake of the Gospel.

I recognize that the article quoted above is not referring to attacks from outside the church, but the turmoil and strife from within. I think though if I were going to offer five words that could save the church, and that will help us all strive for that most excellent virtue of charity it would be these five words, “I apologize, please forgive me.” Those words practiced more often would go a long way in the manner in which we interact with our spouse, our children, our parents, our co-workers, our fellow parishioners. Those five words will begin to foster within us humility that will allow us to begin defeating the sin of pride that is perhaps one of our fiercest enemies.

Even though I think that learning to say, “I apologize, please forgive me,” is a better alternative than, “but I might be wrong,” there are four words that the church needs to learn more than either of those or we will continue to fight a losing battle and those four words are “JESUS CHRIST IS LORD!” Those are the only four words that will ultimately save the church. Until we can proclaim with the utmost conviction and without hesitation or wavering that first Creed we are truly lost with no hope.

Those first martyrs of the early church took a great risk when they no longer said the words Kaesar kurios and began to say Iesou Christou kurios. They could no longer say that Caesar was Lord but that Jesus Christ was Lord, and they did so to their peril. Still, those who proclaimed that Jesus was Lord departed this life praying that God might forgive their tormenters and persecutors. History records that many even in the throes of death were singing hymns and praising God as their very life was being exacted of them. Others like St. Stephen as they were taking their final breath on earth saw the heavens opened and the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the power of Almighty God awaiting their arrival to welcome them home.

These don’t sound like the stories of those who would have couched their words with a concluding epithet, “but I might be wrong.” No, these were the stories of those within the church, bold enough to proclaim with the utmost conviction and unwavering belief in the saving power of the Gospel. May we too have the same power and boldness to proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord, and as often as necessary those five words of humility, “I apologize, please forgive me.” If we can hold on to those two phrases we will go a long way in not just saving, but helping grow God’s kingdom here on earth – His precious Body, the church.

2011-06-25T14:33:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Easter (Rogation Sunday)
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
May 29, 2011

There are two words when one speaks of theology that are really two sides of the same coin, and they cannot be separated, the one from the other. The two words I’m speaking of are orthodoxy and orthopraxy. When I say orthodoxy here, I’m of course not referring to the Orthodox Churches of the East. I’m speaking of the root word orthodoxy here which means right belief. Of course, those churches that propagate and declare the historic, Christian, orthodox faith whether they be Eastern, Western, Roman, Anglican, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, what have you, are the group of Christian believers who share the common faith and belief. This must be the starting point. Right belief is foundational. When one is orthodox he believes in the dogmatic declarations of the faith as indisputable and not open for debate. These questions have been settled and must be believed in order for a person to call himself a Christian. A Christian must profess that God is a Trinity in Unity – one God in three Persons. He must believe that the 2nd Person of the Trinity, the Word of God, Jesus of Nazareth, is both completely human and completely divine – deriving his humanity from the womb of the Virgin Mary his most holy Mother, and deriving his divinity from God Himself, through the Holy Ghost. We declare that Jesus was crucified under Pontius Pilate, that he died a physical death and rose from the dead with a resurrected body; that He ascended unto the right hand of Almighty God, where he ever makes intercession for us to His Father. We believe that His death was the full, perfect, and sufficient atoning sacrifice and the complete oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the entire world. We also faithfully assert that Jesus Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and that no one comes to the Father but through Him. While not a completely exhaustive list, these are the points of agreement shared amongst all believers who would call themselves orthodox and subscribing to orthodoxy. Those who do not would be called heretics, or those who teach and uphold a contrary faith.

Until the middle of the last century it was fairly easy to come up with a pretty good list of what would be considered orthodox and what was not, and no matter what church you attended the orthodox faith would have been preached, the differences being matters of church governance and polity, or matters of style in worship. These would have been considered differences amongst believers, and our salvation didn’t depend upon which camp we happened to fall in regarding these notions.

The other side of the theological coin has to do what the notion of orthopraxy, which basically means right actions. We don’t hear that word nearly as often as we should but in essence orthopraxy is orthodoxy put into motion. It’s what we do with our right beliefs once we’ve embraced them and take them to ourselves and own them. It speaks to the fundamental principle of how is the Christian life lived out. If orthodoxy is believing the Creed, orthopraxy is living the Creed. Orthodoxy is believing that through the empty tomb we have received newness of life and that we are a new creature in Christ, orthopraxy is living as that new creature.

St. James speaks this morning on this final Sunday in Eastertide about being a doer of the Word and not a hearer only. My former church in Montgomery, AL adopted James 1:22 as their tagline verse on their signage and letterhead. If the church sent out anything one saw that verse front and center.

So what does being a doer of the Word look like? More importantly, are we doers of the Word?

This morning you’ll notice on the hymn boards and in the bulletin that today is Rogation Sunday. The Rogation Days are the three days which precede Ascension Day, and they are a time when we are to be intentional about asking God for his protection and blessings. Traditionally it was a time for farmers to have the priest bless their crops after the spring planting with the hope of a fruitful harvest, and some churches performed solemn processions around the property asking that God might be with them in the coming year.

How appropriate that we would hear the words of Jesus in John’s Gospel today that, “Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you.” We are specifically commanded by Jesus to ask for God’s blessings.

Let me make something very clear here. I’m not talking about asking God for that new BMW or Mercedes and specifying what color. This is not some prosperity gospel sermon that simply says be sure you ask God for whatever you want and be sure to do so in Jesus’ name because it says right here in John 16 that whatever we ask the Father in Jesus’ name He’ll give it to us. That is not what Jesus is saying here. This is when we need to check to make sure our orthodoxy and our orthopraxy are in sync.

For how does St. James conclude his first chapter? He says, “If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain. Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” That doesn’t sound like asking to have my physical needs met on my terms just because I asked for it in Jesus’ name, now does it? That sounds allot like a life of intense self-examination in light of God’s law, and a life of service and self-sacrifice, loving one’s neighbour as one’s self.

Orthopraxy, right action, is the living out of the Great Commandment and the Great Commission. Speaking of another instance of two sides of the same coin.

I know many who say that we simply need to live out the Great Commandment and let the rest take care of itself. I say no to that assertion. To me that’s simply being content with one’s orthodoxy and leaving the orthopraxy to handle itself. I believe that we absolutely must do both. Certainly right action is loving God with all of our heart, all of our soul, all of our mind, and all of our strength, and loving others as we would ourselves. Right action is also doing what our Lord commanded his disciples when he departed from them on that first Ascension Day when he told them to go into all the world and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

We simply cannot have the one without the other.

The only way that this is truly lived out is through a lifetime of rogation, a lifetime of asking, an existence shaped by prayer. If you hadn’t picked up on it before now the central theme behind this day on the Church Kalendar is to foster a life of prayer.

What are we to ask for; what are we to pray for? How are we to pray?

We are to ask and pray for those things that are in accord with God’s Will. It’s taking the words of the Lord’s Prayer to heart and truly mean it when we pray, “thy will be done.” Those are perhaps the four hardest words to pray because it brings us front and center to the reality that we are not God. Wasn’t that the temptation of the serpent to Eve? Didn’t he say that she wouldn’t die but that she’d have her eyes opened and she’d be like God?

Orthodoxy and orthopraxy, rightly understood, are two interconnected words that show us with crystal clarity that we are nothing save but the grace of God. One of the churches here in Moultrie had a marquee out front that said God without Man is still God; Man without God is nothing. Truer words have never been spoken.

Jesus wants us to ask the Father in His name for blessings beyond our comprehension. He wants to shower us with his grace and mercy. However, the life of prayer that we are to cultivate is radically different than what we might think. As the late Rev. Dr. Robert Crouse once said the life of prayer, “is the habit of relating, the habit of referring all our thoughts and words and deeds, and all our circumstances to God through Jesus Christ. It is not just particular petitions; it is thanksgiving, it is adoration, it is penitence and intercession. Prayer is not some magic charm employed to change the will of God. Prayer is looking into the mirror of the charity of God, and remembering, and being changed by what we see.”

We are called to look to that “perfect law of liberty, and continue therein.” We are to daily strive not be forgetful hearers, but doers of the work. And if we pray for the guidance and the strength to do this we shall indeed receive those abundant blessings that our Lord wishes for us to possess and intended for us to inherit from time immemorial.

2011-06-25T14:32:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Easter
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
May 22, 2011

If anyone here were sick or experiencing some sort of nagging health concern, hopefully he would see the services of a physician to begin a course of treatment toward healing and restoration of health. We would most likely research the symptoms that affect our health and well-being to see what steps we might be able to apply to restore wholeness of mind or body or spirit.

Are we doing the same things regarding the spiritual well-being of our soul?

The reason I posed the statement at the very beginning was because of the fact that every one of us here today and in fact everyone alive today is sick and in need of spiritual healing. The question remains, how many recognize this fact? How many are doing anything about it?

Our collect appointed for today opens with that stark acknowledgement. We are afflicted with both an unruly will and disordered affections. As has been pointed out before, two phrases were eliminated from the General Confession in the offices of Morning and Evening Prayer in the 1979 prayer book, and it was not an accidental omission. In our 1928 Book of Common Prayer, we don’t shy away from admitting that in our sinful state we are indeed “miserable offenders,” and “there is no health in us.”

Our collect this morning repeats that same reality. Isn’t it interesting that we are not hearing this during Lent when we would naturally expect a theme such as this one to come to the forefront? No, we are hearing this on the Fourth Sunday after Easter. The important point to keep in mind here is that this theme is applicable all the time and is not just limited to the penitential season of Lent.

One of the most beautiful components of our Liturgy and our prayers is the structure of the language.

What do I mean by this?

I’ve had the wonderful privilege of hearing The Rev. Dr. Paul Zahl speak on multiple occasions about St. Paul’s treatment of law and grace. He asserts that the proper preaching and teaching of the Gospel is to preach the law first in its proper sense which convicts us of our sinfulness and in his words should “reduce us to jelly.” Once you’ve preached the law then the proper place to proceed next is to preach the unmerited grace of God and stop right there. This allows the Holy Spirit to do His work in our heart and our will, and begin to effect the change toward holiness and amendment of life. Dr. Zahl says that a 2nd dose of the law piled on at the end does nothing but inflame the sinful passions that lie beneath the surface. It actually becomes counterproductive because it operates under the false assumption that just because we’re saved, or baptized, or a Christian that we can actually change ourselves. The truth of the matters is that we can’t – God is the only one who can change us.

The reason I mentioned Dr. Zahl and his position on the law and grace is because of the structure of our collects and prayers and our liturgy as a whole. If you take a look at the collect for today as a prime example I hope you will begin to see what he and I are talking about.

That opening petition should reduce us to jelly; it should cause us to stop and seriously look at our lives and humbly admit that I’m caught, I’m busted, that really is about me. That opening sentence truly exposes the human condition for what it is – disordered and out of sync. It does say that we are miserable offenders and that there is no health in us.

The beauty of the prayer is that it doesn’t leave us there to wallow in our misery and bemoan our wretched condition. It moves from that cruel truth and progresses quickly to the comfortable grace that comes through faith in Jesus Christ and his work upon the cross.

The shift from law to grace takes place right up front where we ask God to grant to us the change of heart to begin to love what he commands and to desire those things that he promises. The only avenue by which this will ever work is through love. The great theological virtue of charity makes this possible; there is no other means available. When that most excellent bond of charity becomes rooted within us can we begin to live as new creatures as our Lord wills for us all. It is something that must be central in our prayer life. We must ask for that increase of faith, hope, and charity as we prayed on Quinquagesima Sunday.

The shift then continues further when our collect leaves us with joy and hope. Our world is changing and shifting more rapidly than we’d like it to. If you are anything like me, I’m sure you with that every once in a while things would slow down so that we can at least catch our breath and be sure of our footing. I’ll bet I’m not alone here.

We want some degree of certainty among the sundry and manifold changes of this world. We want a fixed point that isn’t going to leave us wanting and unsure of both our present location or our destiny. Our collect speaks of both that firm foundation and on top of that it is the place where all joy is actually to be found.

Joy is that thing that St. Augustine most clearly articulated throughout his works when he speaks of joy as being that which we seek for its own sake. Joy is in fact the end; it is not a means to some other higher end. True joy is the reunification of Man to God. That has become a reality through the cross of Jesus Christ. All the things that this world puts forward as a potential source of joy will always leave us lacking because it is an unstable trust in something that is perishable, that one day will simply pass away.

Think of the commercials that you see on television or on the Internet or in magazines. They are trying to offer what they believe to be joy in some form or fashion, but in the end they can never deliver on their promises. The latest car, the bigger house, the sleek new boat, the newest technological fad (of course you know I’m being honest in self-conviction on that last one). Think about it though, and you know I’m right. All of these things and more once they’ve been obtained leave us looking for the next best thing. I have always been intrigued by the mission statement of Zaxby’s restaurants where they say they, “Consistently create encore experiences that enrich lives one person at a time!!” Can a fast food restaurant serving chicken fingers and buffalo wings deliver a promise such as that? I’m not one for churches having mission statements, but isn’t the Gospel of Jesus Christ the only thing that can truly enrich lives and create encore experiences because through him we are coming into contact with Almighty God?

True joy can only be found in the Creator of all things and not in any part of His creation. Certainly we can experience God’s beauty and majesty through creation, but that should drive us first to our knees and then raise our hearts in praise and adoration.

It takes a changed heart to love what our Lord commands because it stands counter to who we are. We must seek that changed heart each and every day of our lives. For then we may be able to proclaim with the hymn writer William Cowper, “To see the law by Christ fulfilled, and hear his pardoning voice, changes a slave into a child, and duty into choice.”

2011-05-16T16:39:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Third Sunday after Easter
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
May 15, 2011

Well, according to numerous news reports from various fringe movements within the pseudo-Christian faith, today is our last Sunday to worship together. Based upon extremely narrow readings of the Books of Genesis, Daniel, Revelation, II Peter and others, next Saturday, May 21, 2011, will be the end of the world, and the rapture will take place then. Are you ready? Will you be one of the ones raptured, or will you be one of the “left behind?”

Don’t for one minute misunderstand me to say that Jesus’ couldn’t in fact come back next Saturday. He could and he very well might. Heaven knows it would be a wonderful thing if he did come back. That is what we are praying for, and eagerly awaiting. Certainly that will inaugurate the great and terrible day of the Lord, but we are guaranteed God’s mercy and justice when that day comes, and that for those who love him, serve him, and proclaim him as their Lord will enter into perfect rest and happiness where all tears will be wiped away and our mourning will be turned into joy.

For all that I disagree with regarding all of the Nostradamus’ of this world, I do agree with one general assertion that they make, we need to live knowing that the end is coming one day and it might be soon. We must live each day as if it were our last. If we do, we will live it with meaning and purpose and conviction.

In St. Peter’s first epistle I was struck with one phrase that caught me as interesting and I hope you caught it as well. It was at the very end of the passage we just heard where he tells his listeners, “For so is the will of God, that with well doing ye may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men: as free, and not using your liberty for a cloak of maliciousness, but as the servants of God.” He then ends that section with a four-fold exhortation, “Honor all men. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the king.”

There appears to be a contradiction here. Peter tells his audience and us as well that we are free and we’re servants. Hang on a minute. How can we be free and servants at the same time? If he uses the word servant doesn’t that imply that you are under the authority of someone else and not free to do as you please? On the flip side isn’t a free man subject only to himself?

Here’s where Christianity turns everything on its head. Yes, as Christians we are free. Through our baptism we have received a freedom and a new life that on our own we could never earn, merit, or receive. The debt for Adam’s sin which would be counted against us as an insurmountable debt that we could never repay has been forgiven and there is a freedom that comes from that gift.

The big difference comes with our proper definitions of slave or servant, freedom, and liberty. Several times in the New Testament we hear the phrase that once we have been freed we are now the servants of Christ. This isn’t a false dichotomy here. Once we receive Christ we are free to serve him with a renewed definition of the word serve.

Many of the great philosophers, both pagan and Christian, understood what we see as a contradiction.

Seneca once said, “No one is free who is the slave of his body,” and “Liberty consists in obeying God.” Cicero said, “We are the servants of the laws that we may be able to be free.” Plutarch insisted that every bad man is a slave; and Epictetus declared that no bad man can ever be free.

Presbyterian theologian William Barclay wrote, “We may put it this way. Christian freedom is always conditioned by Christian responsibility. Christian responsibility is always conditioned by Christian love. Christian love is the reflection of God’s love. And therefore, Christian liberty can rightly be summed up in Augustine’s memorable phrase: “Love God, and do what you like.”

“The Christian is free because he is the slave of God. Christian freedom does not mean being free to do as we like; it means being free to do as we ought.”

Of course, I don’t think that Dr. Barclay is advocating some sort of Pelagianism here that says that we are given all we need to do what is right and that we just need to try a little harder. That’s the form of heresy coming from the mouth of Joel Osteen. What I believe he is saying is that we have the freedom that comes from an open avenue to God the Father, through His Son Jesus Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit.

I’ve heard this type of Christian freedom described in the following manner. If you think of a football game or baseball game that has some sort of foul lines or boundaries, there is a tremendous amount of freedom to excel and play the game of football or baseball when you know what’s out-of-bounds and what is not. How could you ever play if the foul lines were constantly moving or shifting or you don’t even know if there were any? Would you be free or would you be enslaved to uncertainty and chaos?

Being a servant of Christ and using our liberty as St. Peter describes consists of four actions. We are to honour all men and honour the king. Does this mean blindly agreeing with everything they say or declare? No, it does not. Does it mean to at minimum show respect for the office that those people hold, yes it does. There is a time and place for exercising our displeasure or disagreement with others, but the Christian virtue of charity must be at the core. Showing honour to those to whom honor is due is one of our callings.

We are to love the brotherhood. Peter is speaking of the community of believers here, and there is to be a special bond of love that binds the Church together in community. The special love that binds us together is not some sentimental type of love, but what St. Augustine would describe as loving others in God. This brings us to the fourth and central point that Peter exhorts us to do and that is fear God.

We are to fear God as we normally think of that word, as well as in the sense of awe and wonder. This two-fold sense of fear properly shapes our posture toward our Maker. Fear in this proper sense allows us to live each day with the perspective that we are in the world, but not of the world; it allows us to recognize our dependence upon for everything that we have now, and what we will enjoy in the future; it will allow us to not worry about stories like the supposed end of the world on May 21, but that we might be like the 5 wise virgins who had their lamps trimmed and had extra oil on hand when the Bridegroom calls us to the wedding feast, and bids us to come inside and feast at His table. The foretaste of that banquet lies ahead for us. Let us with penitent and faithful hearts approach our Lord’s table in joyful thanksgiving for the benefits he bestows upon those who love and serve him. May we be nourished and receive the grace to honour all men, love the brotherhood, fear God, and honour the King, as the free servants of Christ Jesus our Lord.

2011-05-07T20:18:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Second Sunday after Easter
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
May 8, 2011

If there is any danger or shortcoming in Lectionary preaching as opposed to say taking a book of the Bible and examining it verse-by-verse is the fact that unless we are all serious Biblical scholars it’s often hard to ground exactly where we are in a particular book. For instance, in our Gospel this morning which is perhaps one of most familiar stories and images of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, we are somewhat lost as to what precedes this episode.

Certainly this wonderful story and imagery of Jesus as our Good Shepherd does a perfectly good job of standing on its own, but what if we take a minute to see what happens just prior to this story to see if something bigger is going on.

Tell the story of John 9

In light of what precedes Jesus’ I AM statements of being the door of the sheepfold and the Good Shepherd, he’s clearly setting this up as a contrast to the “bad” shepherds who are blindly leading the “lost sheep of the House of Israel.” The Pharisees, Sadducees, religious authorities, Scribes, lawyers, etc. are not giving the people anything resembling life, but rather a downward spiral into spiritual death. The Good Shepherd is telling the people that they need to stop listening to the hirelings that ultimately care nothing for the sheep, but rather when trouble comes flees and leaves them to fend for themselves.

Jesus says that he as the Good Shepherd is willing to lay down his life for his sheep. He’s not going to run and hide, but will do anything in his power to protect his flock.

Contrast this to the very strong words of Jesus in Matthew 23 when he says of the Pharisees:

Then spake Jesus to the multitude, and to his disciples, Saying The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses' seat: All therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works: for they say, and do not. For they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers. But all their works they do for to be seen of men: they make broad their phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments, And love the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, And greetings in the markets, and to be called of men, Rabbi, Rabbi.
These false shepherds do not care for the sheep, but only for themselves. They lay heavy burdens on the people with no intention whatsoever to bear them themselves. As we remembered again during Holy Week, our Good Shepherd bore his cross until twice he fell under its weight. He took the heaviest thing on this earth onto his shoulders and felt its weight and burden.

Only toward the end when he fell the second and painful time is the crossbeam handed over to a stranger to carry the rest of the way as a sign that we should bear one another’s burdens as well.

But we do not do this alone. We don’t just attempt to do this ourselves.

Only when we recognize the impossible situation that we all face can we begin to understand the dead end street that we are walking down if we continue to follow the false shepherds of this world, disguised in the form of self-reliance, rugged individualism, secularism, and the like.

These false shepherds lure us into thinking that we can do it on our own, and the reality of this life if we are honest tells us otherwise. It tells us that we are powerless of ourselves to help ourselves. Actually, those of the words of the collect for the Second Sunday in Lent in which we ask that God might help us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls to be defended from all adversities that will happen to the body and the evil thoughts which assault and hurt the soul.

The false shepherds will convince us that this isn’t true. The Good Shepherd helps us acknowledge that it is true but that he will lead us into green pastures where we might find rest and nourishment both for the body as well as for the soul.

Lord, help us all to come to you, recognizing that we are all sheep who have gone astray, we have all erred and strayed like lost sheep, and that on our own we are all sheep without a Good Shepherd. Grant us grace to lay aside our pride in order that we might recognize ourselves as lost and wayward without your guidance and protection. Give unto us the discernment to recognize the false shepherds from the one, true Good Shepherd that we might hear your voice, and know you as the only source of life, that you might call us each by name, gathering us into your one flock under your protection as our Good Shepherd and Bishop of our souls.

2011-05-05T11:24:00.000-04:00

Sermon for Good Friday
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
April 22, 2011

So often on this day of the Church Year we concentrate upon the Seven Words from the Cross that our Lord uttered during those three agonizing hours He spent upon the cross. They are familiar to us because we’ve probably read Good Friday meditations upon them, some probably quite good and edifying for the soul as we ponder the events of this day. There are many churches who have a 3-hour vigil from noon until 3:00 p.m. in which the faithful gather to hear these seven words again with meditations interspersed with other readings of Scripture or collects being prayed.

I was perusing a book I have had on my shelf but had not looked at carefully the other day and I came across a quite interesting observation by the late Abp. Fulton Sheen. I’m sure some of you remember him on the television teaching Catholic theology and doctrine in his black cassock with shoulder cape or long cape and that huge pectoral cross hanging about his neck. Many faithful Christians heard his messages, and he was one of the first televangelists before that title became tainted with the scandals that have bequeathed to that word the stigma that it continues to bear. Abp. Sheen wrote a book in 1958 entitled Life of Christ, and I came across a chapter in which he speaks of the seven words to the cross.

If we took the time we could probably recall to our mind the seven words from the cross, but we might forget one or two of the words to the cross. I realize the some of them are similar in nature and we might forget one because it is quite like another, but I wish for us ever so briefly to look at those seven words spoken to Jesus on the cross, and most particularly the one’s of a negative nature, as we are gathered in this darkened sanctuary with the aumbry standing open and the cross on the altar draped in black.

There are five sets of words spoken to Jesus on the cross by five different groups of people or individuals that convey a similar theme - that of Jesus saving himself or having someone save him. We have the passers-by who simply wag their heads, some of them I’m sure jeering at Jesus upon the cross, perhaps spitting upon him or hurling stones in his direction and say some words we’ve heard before “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” Hold that thought for a minute as I will come right back to it.

You have the thief on the cross who questions Jesus’ divinity and implores him to let them all down from the cross.

There were the Scribes, Pharisees, and religious intelligentsia who rightly declare that he saved others, but yet here he is apparently unable to save himself. They then also tempt him by saying that if would just come down from the cross they will believe in him.

There are the gawkers who are simply there to witness another crucifixion and after God cries out in the words of Psalm 22, “My God, My God, why has thou forsaken me,” they want to check things out to see if Elijah or someone else might come down and help rescue him from the cross.

Finally, the soldiers who most likely still have his blood on their hands from driving the nails into his hands and feet taunt him and tell him that if he is in fact the King of the Jews, as the superscription above his head read, then he surely should be able to save himself.

These are the five words directed at Jesus in a negative manner, and the remaining two are the one’s that we probably remember best. The repentant thief asks not to be saved from the punishment that he was justly receiving, but rather mercy in the life to come when he says to Jesus, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” If I’m not mistaken, it’s the only deathbed conversion recorded in the Bible. After Jesus had died, and the centurion who had probably witnessed numerous crucifixions in the past saw what happened when Jesus breathed his last and proclaimed the seventh set of words to the cross, “Truly, this man was the Son of God.”

I told you to hold the thought about the words that we’ve heard before. Those who were the passers-by said the same words to Jesus at the end his life that Satan had said three years earlier in the wilderness at Jesus’ temptation – If thou be the Son of God. There it is, even at the very last, the words as recorded in St. Luke, “And the devil departed until an opportune time.” If there was ever a time when temptation would have been at its highest it would have been here, on the cross, to save himself the agony of dying this gruesome death, Satan returns again in the words of common folk, and question his divinity one more time – if thou be the Son of God.

Jesus’ temptation is right before his face yet again. The thief on the cross is looking only to have his dire needs met at that moment in time, when he rails at him and says to save himself and me too. Command these stones to be made into bread. There is a physical need here, and Jesus should help meet it. The materialist has come back to haunt our Lord again.

The second temptation where Satan takes Jesus to the pinnacle of the Temple and tells him to hurl himself off because the Scripture said that the angles wouldn’t let him hurt himself lest he dash his foot against a stone is cast before his eyes again as well. The others who spoke to Jesus on the cross were simply looking for the proverbial genie in a bottle, a dispenser of tricks and gimmicks. They were looking for a utilitarian god who could simply dispense his power at their beckoned call and serve them at their whims.

God doesn’t work that way. Yes, God is always there to hear us when we call upon him in prayer, in thanksgiving, in supplication, in thanksgiving, but he manifests his grace to us through the sacraments of His Church, through the study of His Holy Word, through His personal relationship with each and every one of us. He’s not our “miracle worker” on display, but our Abba Father, who went to the pit of Hell to save us from ourselves.

The prophet Isaiah declared that the government shall be upon his shoulders, but that government took the form of a crossbeam and not a gavel.

There is always the temptation to leave this service with everything somewhat neat and tidy for tomorrow evening and Sunday morning. However, this service doesn’t really allow us to do so, does it? The cross is still draped in black, the tabernacle still stands open, the church is still dark. It’s left just the way it is supposed to. With a longing and a sense of expectation.

If just for this one day, let us ponder the magnitude of Good Friday. Let us ponder what brought us to this point. Let us ponder who we are that brought our Lord to this place. Let us ponder, and let us pray.

2011-05-05T11:23:00.000-04:00

Sermon for Maundy Thursday
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
April 21, 2011

“For I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you.”

We’ve all heard the Golden Rule, do unto others as you would have them do unto you. We have taught or are teaching our children that mantra of life that basically stems from the second half of the Summary of the Law to love one’s neighbor as himself. If we love our neighbor then we would naturally only do unto them the things that we would want reciprocated. We each recognize injustice when it is hurled in our direction, should we not do the same for our neighbor.

However, those words that we just heard wasn’t just a call to play nice in the sandbox. Those words come at the end of a portion of Jesus’ farewell discourse in which he assumed the lowliest place possible, that of a slave, and stooped down to wash their feet.

In reading a commentary that described the social-science aspect of the scene here, we need to more fully understand what Jesus does here, and what it means for us.

As you might be aware, but probably don’t wish to think about in hearing a story such as this one is the fact that Jesus went about doing a job that only a slave or the lowest of servants would perform for the guests of a dinner. We are not going to find in an archeological dig in ancient Palestine an intricate sewer system, so all of the human waste in a household would have been dumped out of the windows, and left to dissipate as it was able. There would also be the waste of the animals kept for food that would have been discarded into the streets as well; so no matter how careful one was, there’s no doubt in our minds that a person’s feet would be covered in excrement and waste, and thus, it would have only been fitting for a slave to perform such a menial task as to wash all of that filth off of someone’s feet as they sat for dinner. This was a gesture of hospitality that a host would have had done for his guests, and therefore, when read who it is that does this among the disciples we see what type of meaning it begins to take on.

Jesus rose from supper, laid aside his garments; and took a towel, and girded himself. After that he poureth water in a bason, and began to wash the disciple’s feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded. By his very actions, Jesus swapped places with the lowest in society. He took the place of a slave so that he could embody the very example he wished for his followers to emulate. The action spoke louder than any words could have done.

When Jesus comes to Peter, he of course is indignant and says that he’ll never allow his Lord to demean himself in that fashion and wash the filth from his feet, to which, Jesus replies that if he doesn’t do it then Peter will have no part in Him.

I think there is a wonderful image here that might otherwise go unnoticed. It says that Jesus took a towel and girded himself with it. It became a part of his vesture, a part of himself. What he tells Peter and us is that if we don’t let Jesus wipe off all that defiles us, contaminates us, burdens us, and causes us to stink, and wipe it onto himself, we will continue to carry it with us, and we can’t carry our sinfulness with us into Paradise. We can’t have a bit of Hell in Heaven to borrow from C. S. Lewis and George MacDonald in The Great Divorce. Peter had to let Jesus wash the part of his body that was in contact with the world and wipe it onto himself in order that he might destroy it once and for all.

Peter again misunderstands the imagery here and then says in essence that if washing my feet is good then certainly a full body wash would have to be better. He fails to recognize that our constant attention and striving toward the ascetical life involves those points of contact with the world, the flesh, and the devil. Through our baptism we don’t wash the whole body again, but we must continue the daily struggle to keep our feet clean as a symbol of the fact that we part of a life lived in this world, but as Christians, not of this world.

Finally, we come to another part of Scripture where the old English gives us a bit of clarification. When Jesus tells Peter, “He that is washed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all.” The pronoun “ye” here speaks of the group as a whole, and not just Peter. He’s speaking to the disciples as a whole while singling out Judas when he mentions that not all are clean.

For us as disciples and followers of Jesus he tells us that we are clean, but there will still be weekly, daily, hourly foot washing that will continue until we reach the heavenly Jerusalem when we will be washed one final time and given that garment that is made white through the Blood of the Lamb.

Who is responsible for washing one another’s feet? It’s you and it’s me. We are going to constantly be contracting the filth of this world and so will our neighbors. It will cling to us until it is washed off. If it is not washed off it will begin to contaminate us. We will become accustomed to it, and that is of course a root of sin when we lose that sense of being soiled and in need of cleansing. We are to be the ones to stoop down and do the dirty work of washing one another’s feet, and wiping them clean in the name of the one who did it for us.

If we are to be followers and disciples of Jesus Christ this is what we are called to do, and if we do so in our Lord’s name, then others will see us doing unto one another what our Lord Jesus bids us to do, and they will want to join us in serving one another out of love, out of joyful thanksgiving for what He first did for us.

2011-04-10T16:44:00.001-04:00

Sermon for Passion Sunday
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
April 10, 2011

We come to another transition point in our Christian Year and in the Lenten Season known as Passiontide. This morning has been traditionally known as Passion Sunday to mark this intentional turn toward Jerusalem as we journey forward for these final two weeks in Lent. Passion Sunday is not to be confused with the Sunday next before Easter or Palm Sunday in which we hear again the dramatic reading of the Passion as our Gospel with all of its difference such as no response to its opening acclamation, the fact that the congregation is seated for the first part, and its abrupt ending with no closing salutation.

I was asked last Sunday why today is called Passion Sunday. One of the central reasons is the words of the Letter to the Hebrews that we heard in our Epistle lesson just a few moments ago. Much like the Book of Revelation, we do not hear a great deal of Hebrews read in our Sunday Lectionary, but I do believe that two dates in which we hear portions of Hebrews in our service stand out as fairly important days – Christmas Day and Good Friday. It stands to reason that those words carry tremendous weight in being assigned on two of the principal days of the Church Year.

This morning being called Passion Sunday is also known as the Sunday of the Atonement.

The church over the centuries has debated the different aspects of the Atonement, and different theologians have offered up their interpretation as to the different theories that make up this particular study of theology. The different notions of the atonement speak about Christ’s death on the cross, and what his death actually means, and what his death actually accomplished.

We can save the different theories for an adult forum class at a future date. The main reason I mention this is because of the way that this relates to our lessons for today.

The Hebrew Holy Feast of Yom Kippur is also known as the Day of Atonement. It was on this day, and this day alone, that the High Priest would enter the Holy of Holies and offer incense and sacrifices to God for the atonement of the sins of all of the Jewish people and the nation as a whole. There were detailed instructions regarding the garments to be worn, the sacrifices and rituals to be offered, and the manner in which all things were carried out. It was a time for the nation as a whole to call to remembrance their sins, and join with the High Priest as he offered prayers on behalf of the people in the presence of the Most High. In the first Temple the High Priest would have done all of his duties in the place where the Ark of the Covenant was located containing the Ten Commandments, the rod of Aaron, and a container of manna from the wilderness. Atop the Ark were the two facing Cherubim containing the Mercy Seat of God, the place where God dwelt with men.

This annual ritual was the time when an imperfect High Priest, would make an imperfect sacrifice to God, as a requirement of adherence to the Old Covenant. One thing to keep in mind here is that I am not saying that these rituals were wrong or ineffective. I’m not saying or implying that at all. I’m simply pointing out the fact that they were in light of the cross, deficient.

We come to these beautiful words of St. Paul to the Hebrews that are full of hope and promise as we examine what it means to have a greater High Priest, a more perfect sacrifice, and a new covenant that surpasses the old.

In the time of the Old Covenant the High Priest would have been of the tribe of Levi and a son of Aaron, appointed to serve in the Temple. Certainly there were many of this priestly line who were faithful, diligent, and godly in their ministrations. Yet, they were still human beings, and were subject to the very same trials, temptations, and sins as those for whom they offered prayer and intercession. When they offered of the sacrifices they were essentially no different than an ordinary Jew other than they had been set apart for their priestly duties.

When Jesus came to offer himself as the High Priest of the new covenant, He did do in a three-fold manner. First, he conferred richer blessings. He brings into reality the “good things to come” as we heard in our lesson. He is able to effect that which he performs. For the Jew, they hold to a promise that the Christian sees as a reality. What they hope for, the Christian sees as a certainty. Their future is our present.

Second, Jesus passes through a better Tabernacle. On the Day of Atonement the Jewish high priest would pass from the holy place or tabernacle into the Holy of Holies or the presence chamber of God. He through the cloud of smoke of incense was able to experience the glory of the Most High. At Jesus’ death He passed through the tabernacle of His body into the presence of God, beyond the veil of flesh. The Gospels make note of this fact when it says that the veil of the Temple was torn in two from the top to the bottom. The barrier between life and death was broken. At His Ascension, Jesus passed through the tabernacle of the heavens to plead His sacrifice in the inner court beyond the veil of things visible.

Third, his atoning work was complete. For the old covenant the Day of Atonement was a something that had to be repeated year after year. For Jesus, He “entered in once for all.” The Jewish Atonement day was annual, our Christian atonement is eternal, and eternally perfect, needing and allowing no repetition. The misunderstanding about Catholic mass is the falsely held belief that the priest was “re-sacrificing” Jesus on the altar. The catholic teaching on the Eucharist in no way considers this a re-sacrifice, but rather a re-presentation of the “once for all” sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. There is a big difference between the two.

Jesus’ work on the cross is a more perfect sacrifice than that offered by the high priest in the form of bull’s and goat’s blood. The Jewish high priest offered the life of an animal, a lower form than himself on the altar as he was commanded, and when offered with the proper disposition of heart was acceptable to God for the sins of the people. However, when compared to the blood of God’s own Son it’s easy to see that it pales in comparison. There’s no way to look at those sacrifices in the same light ever again when held up against the sacrifice of the Light of the world. Christ’s sacrifice was one of the self, of a Will obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. “The essence of sacrifice is not death, but a will obedient unto death, the uttermost test.” This was pre-figured in the obedience of Abraham and Isaac in which Abraham was willing to offer his only Son, and say to Isaac in faith that God would himself provide a lamb for the burnt offering. Little did he know that it would manifest itself in the way that we now know. For if the sacrifice under the old covenant was able to atone for ceremonial uncleanness, how much more does Christ’s sacrifice in perfect unity with the Sprit of God? “In union with such a willing sacrifice we can rise from dead works to the living personal service of a personal God.”

Finally, Jesus’ sacrifice was the institution of a new covenant. A principal manifestation of Yom Kippur was that the people were renewed in their state of grace with God through the temporal sacrifices offered on their behalf. Christ’s atonement on the other hand brings in a new and better covenant and “the pledge of our inheritance in the kingdoms of grace and glory. Thus, we are baptized into the covenant procured by Christ’s death, and are ‘baptized into His death.’ Baptism is, therefore, only the entrance of the individual into the sphere of the covenant, while the covenant itself was made ‘once for all’ by Christ’s atonement.”

Our liturgy contains these summary of this at the very beginning when we speak of Christ’s “full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world.” When we hear those words in a few moments, let us recall what it took for us to even be able to recite those words week after week, and what makes those words possible. Those words become for us what they say only through the heart of a loving God who wants nothing more than to help us return to the perfected state for which we were created In the Beginning. Our very lives and existence was to be in perfect love, harmony, and fellowship with God and Man. Through our Lord’s sacrifice we are able to catch a glimpse of what that will look like for all eternity. For then we will be able to grasp these notions of the atonement and will then understand its original meaning of being at-one-ment with the God and Creator of us all to whom we ascribe all might, majesty, power, and dominion both this day, and ever more.

2011-04-02T17:28:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Lent
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
April 3, 2011

I hope you noticed that this morning was just a bit different from the other Sundays in Lent. If we had a set of rose coloured vestments, we would see the color pink instead of the usual purple that we’ve seen since Septuagesima Sunday. Violets appeared upon the altar as flowers are appropriate for this Sunday past the mid-point of our Lenten fast. There is also a somewhat unfamiliar and strange sounding word at the top of your bulletins to designate this as Laetare Sunday. Much like Gaudete Sunday, which is the third Sunday in Advent, this is a slight relaxation of the otherwise penitential nature of this season. The word Laetare comes from the first word in the Introit of the Mass that we said before the service began and it literally means – to rejoice.

I hope this raises a few questions in your mind. Why are we to rejoice during this Season of Lent? What is the connection to Jerusalem and this rejoicing? How does all of this square with the lessons that we’ve just heard?

Why are we to rejoice during this Season of Lent?

To a certain degree that sounds contradictory. If we are to be penitential, and be more intentional during this time of year to prayer, alms giving, and fasting, where does joy fit into the equation? At second glance though, these should be times of great joy that we should not simply bear for these forty days only to rejoice even more come Easter Sunday when we dispense with all of this penitence until this time next year. If that is the way that we approach each Lent, I believe we’ve missed the point of why we do so in the first place.

All three of those disciplines are intended to draw us closer to God. If we are more intentional during Lent to pray the Daily Office, either corporately or privately, or get up 20 minutes earlier each day to read Scripture or pray, or try to pray before we speak in the midst of a trial or struggle, or give more of our time, treasure, or talents for the furthering of God’s kingdom, why would we ever seek to dispense with that come the end of April. At the end of Lent we should begin to see the fruits of this work, and seek to cultivate it more and more. It should also lead us to a more joyous celebration of our Lord’s resurrection for we know that it was only through his grace and mercy that we were able to complete these efforts to draw closer to Almighty God.

What is the connection to Jerusalem and this rejoicing?

In order to try to answer this question, and its compliment, what about the lessons we just heard, we need a bit of background information, especially to understand the Epistle lesson from Galatians.

Many folks over the years have raised their eyebrows to this particular account of St. Paul as he is instructing the Church in Galatia. What on earth is this business about Sarah and Hagar?

We need to go back and understand the story from Genesis before we can understand what St. Paul is getting at here.

God established his covenant with Abraham. He told him one night to look up into the heavens and try to count the stars, which of course he could not do, and God said that his own son would be his heir, even though he was childless at the time.

At the end of the passage in which God told Abram that He was making a Covenant with him and his offspring, Scripture says that Abram believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness. Keep that phrase in mind, that Abram’s faith was counted to him as righteousness.

As always seems to happen throughout the Bible, mankind can’t stand trusting God and his timing, so Sarai approaches her husband Abram, and tells him that since she was barren and could not have any children that he should marry her Egyptian slave Hagar and continue his lineage through her. Abram agrees, and Hagar becomes pregnant with Ishmael.

We then encounter the ancient Hebrew rendition of Desperate Housewives or Jersey Shore, and Sarai becomes jealous of Hagar because she is carrying the child that she should rightfully be carrying. She told her husband that Hagar had looked at her with contempt and Sarai is enraged that there is now this division between amongst them. Therefore, Abram gives Sarai permission to send her away, but the LORD intervenes and tells Hagar to return to her mistress and submit to her. She does so, and Ishmael is born. In thinking about our Epistle, here is the first link in the story.

Thirteen years later when Abram is ninety-nine years old, God appears to him again and reiterates the covenant made with him earlier. As a sign of the covenant, God changes the names of Abram and Sarai to Abraham and Sarah, and institutes circumcision as the mark of the covenant.

One year later God visits Sarah and blesses her, and she conceives a son to Abraham and thus the Covenant is established through Abraham’s legitimate heir Isaac.

As you would expect Season #2 of Desperate Housewives – Hebrew edition must take place, and Sarah becomes jealous again of Hagar and Ishmael, and orders Abraham to send them away. Abraham does not want to send them away on account of the fact that Ishmael is his son, but God intercedes and tells Abraham to send them away because His Covenant will not come through the heir of the Egyptian slave girl, but through the legitimate heir of Sarah, the Hebrew free woman. In thinking about our Epistle, here is the next link in the story that will help us answer the question what is the link between Jerusalem, rejoicing and Lent.

I know that seemed like allot of background to the Epistle, but with that in mind I think it helps us understand what St. Paul was up to in dealing with the Galatian Church and allegorizing these two women and their children.

The overall message of the Epistle itself is a condemnation of those that have infiltrated this group of believers and has begun to perpetuate the notion that the only way that someone could become a real, true, official, legitimate Christian was to submit to circumcision and become a complete Levitical law-abiding Jew first. Haven’t we heard all of this before? This was a group of people who were putting unnecessary barriers in front of those wishing to coming to faith in Jesus Christ. The Pharisees before them were doing the exact same things. They were setting up all types of hoops in front of those who came to the Temple to worship God, and thus Jesus comes into the Temple with a whip of cords and condemns their actions for what they were. He cleanses the temple of slavery in order to make room for a Temple of freedom.

St. Paul takes the imagery of two women, Hagar and Sarah, and speaks about the incompatibility of seeking justification through the Law and not through Grace. He says the one woman represents slavery and bondage, born after the flesh. In thinking back to the story of Genesis, Sarai insists that Abram go about things their way, and raise up children with Hagar, after the flesh. Neither of them is willing to wait on God to work in His own time.

When they trust God, even though they both laugh at God in the process, a son is born to Sarah in her old age, a child born through the true promise. Isaac, whose name speaks of laughter, is the true heir and one through whom the Covenant will come to fruition.

Hagar represents the Jerusalem of the Pharisees - tied to the keeping of the Law, with circumcision as the marker of their identity. This cannot ultimately save because the Law constantly shows us not where we succeed but where we fall short. Sarah is represents the heavenly Jerusalem, our true Mother, that comes through the faithfulness of Christ, and our faith in Him.

Paul tells the Galatians and us as well that we cannot place our trust in the rote keeping of the Law and Commandments to justify ourselves before God. We will be forever reminded of how we don’t measure up.

We rejoice in the fact that God has made us sons and heirs of the promise that comes through the new Jerusalem, the heavenly Jerusalem. We are no longer slaves to the old Jerusalem that comes from asking God to weigh our merits, which never works.

We have a mother that wishes to nurture us, comfort us, gather us as a hen gathers her chicks under her wing. Holy Mother Church is that place that place of repose where we come to have our wounds bound up, where we come to seek nourishment and comfort, where we are free to bear our souls.

May we continue to seek our home in the heavenly Jerusalem where our faith in Christ is reckoned to us as righteousness because this is the only source of our justification. As it was reckoned to Abraham as faithfulness, so too does our justification come from the imputed righteousness of Christ that comes through our faith in him. This, and only this, will continue to lead us along the path of sanctification, which is the keeping of the law not out of being slaves to the law, but out of love for the promise that is given to all those who love and serve the LORD – out of love for the one who first loved us, and gave himself for us an offering and sacrifice to Almighty God, His heavenly Father.

2011-04-02T17:26:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Third Sunday in Lent
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
March 27, 2011

We are a people at war! That’s obvious you might say. We’ve got troups right now in Iraq and Afghanistan. We’re engaged in some way in the conflicts in Libya, Egypt, and other places of turmoil and political unrest. War is all around us, and we have almost become somewhat complacent in many regards, accepting this simply as the world in which we live.

The only thing here is that I’m not talking about the physical wars that we read about in the papers, or catch highlights on the news, or get updates from the Internet. I’m speaking about the war with eternal consequences that we are all engaged in each day of our lives – the war against the powers of darkness – the constant temptations with the world, the flesh, and the devil.

We treat this very reality so seriously because it makes up such a crucial part of our Baptismal liturgy. We trust and place our faith and hope in the belief that the grace imparted through those waters might begin to work in us anew along this life-long journey of sanctification – the living out of those vows that we made or were made on our behalf as infants and that we took as our own at our Confirmation.

Our lessons these first three Sundays in Lent speak to those temptations. On the First Sunday in Lent we heard those words of our Lord’s temptation by the Devil himself in the wilderness at the beginning of his earthly ministry. This battle that we are waging is first and foremost a battle against the Evil One himself, and the chaos and destruction that he wields through his demonic forces.

Last Sunday our Epistle from I Thessalonians was a stern admonition and warning against the sins of the flesh. Paul’s warning carried with it a three-fold declaration about the destructive nature of the sins of the flesh.

First, they are destructive toward ourselves. Our journey toward sanctification is a constant dying and death to the desires of the flesh, thus, these sins stand in opposition to our goal of being holy, as our Heavenly Father is holy.

Second, sins of the flesh are an affront to our neighbour. Fornication, and the lust of concupiscence are sins against our neighbour because by definition they are sins against charity. The fuel of the fires of these lusts is not self-giving or agape love, but rather a selfish type of love. It does not look out for the other, but rather attempts to answer the question, what is in it for me? How are my needs being met?

Third, the sins of the flesh are an affront to God. Looking again at baptism, we are called by God into a state of holiness. “This call was no empty form, but was accompanied by the power to obey through the perpetual assistance of the Holy Spirit.” Therefore, any rejection is not a rejection of man, but of God, and thus, an affront to Him.

This morning in St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians our foe is not just the flesh, but its extension to the world in which we live. Paul continues his appeal toward chastity and the faithful use of our body. He takes this one step further when we talks of this being carried to its societal extreme. What do I mean here?

One of the points I made last Sunday in our study of Philippians was the fact that many boast when they should blush. Think about it. When the news stories broke about the Tiger Woods incident, I know I said I wouldn’t pile on and I’m not here, the media sensation was not so much centered on the tragedy of what happened to the world’s #1 golfer and his family, but how many women were there? What did they look like? What were their backgrounds? Who else were these women involved with? The world clamored for more information , and it wasn’t just the sensationalistic publications like the National Enquirer, it was mainstream media, and it was all the time. Instead of hanging our heads in shame saying Lord, have mercy, Lord, have mercy, we were clamoring for more, and more, and more. It appears that this battle against the world might just prove to be the most difficult of the three areas.

Just last week I read an article entitled, “Study Finds Religion May Be Heading for Extinction in Parts of World.” The gist of the article, reporting findings from the American Physical Society, shows that religion is dying out in nine countries. In some ways the countries listed might surprise you, but in other regards some are predictable. Australia, Austria, the Czech Republic, Canada, Finland, Ireland, New Zealand, the Netherlands, and Switzerland were the countries losing their religion.

Two of the men conducting the survey were from the University of Arizona and Northwestern University and were using data collected over the past 100 years in the respective countries.

These are of course developed countries, many that had a strong Christian influence at one point in their histories. Here are the more sobering results.

“‘In a large number of modern secular democracies, there's been a trend that folk are identifying themselves as non-affiliated with religion; in the Netherlands the number was 40 percent, and the highest number was in the Czech Republic, where the number was 60 percent.’”

The study also found that “‘Americans without affiliation comprise the only religious group growing in all 50 states.’”

“‘In 2008 those claiming no religion rose to 15 percent nationwide, with a maximum in Vermont at 34 percent,’” the study says.

The study concludes that religion in these societies might one day disappear.
“‘The model predicts that for societies in which the perceived utility of not adhering is greater than the utility of adhering, religion will be driven toward extinction.’”

That last line is the money quote of the century. The last thing we should ever think is that this couldn’t happen to us.
The world in which we live tells us that the utility for adhering to religion has become outmoded, outdated, unscientific, and unenlightened.
We have our work cut out for us, because in light of these statistics we must be able to clearly articulate why we still wholeheartedly embrace the Christian faith. Why do we see that our adherence to that faith is not only greater than the perception of not doing so, but that we do so with vigor and great excitement?
That is the fundamental question for us in this age. How do we help change those perceptions and reverse those trends?

The only way that can happen is if we are able to help people see the critical link between the faith that we proclaim and the faith that we live. We have to help them see that the benefits for adherence are filled with grace and that they urge us to live out as we pray every day that our Lord’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven. We have to help them see that we aren’t talking about some unattainable utopia that only exists in our dreams, but that we are living out our Lord’s commands out of love for Him and the gift He gave us in our redemption and restoration as His sons – heirs with all of the rights and privileges afforded those to whom full citizenship is given.

We must be able to convey what those rights and privileges are, and why those rights and privileges are something for which adherence is both necessary but an honor to strive for.

Let us take the remainder of our Lenten season to focus on those rights and privileges and how we might proclaim them with boldness, joy, and conviction to a world that quite clearly needs to hear them.

2011-03-21T11:37:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
March 20, 2011

The first three Sundays in Lent deal with the devil, demon possession, and the demonic influences among us. As I mentioned in a sermon last year at this time, we don’t like to talk about demons and spiritual warfare. We’d like to pretend that that is the stuff of old times and we don’t have to worry about this outdated topic. After all, most Biblical exegetes today say that most of the people who suffered from demon possession in Biblical times were probably just epileptics and this was the language they used to speak of them having a seizure.

I’ve actually witnessed someone having a seizure as the result of a brain tumor, and to be completely honest it scared the hell out of me. Seeing this happen to a co-worker with Georgia Power made me see how one would think this type of medical episode must come from the devil himself.

The Scriptures are replete with stories of the power of darkness and demonic forces, and we are beyond arrogant and foolish to pretend it doesn’t still happen today. Our very baptism service speaks explicitly about our receiving of the grace to manfully fight under Christ’s banner against the world, the flesh, and the devil. One of my favorite hymns and perhaps one of yours as well confirms the demonic influences are alive and well against which we must do constant battle. The third stanza of Martin Luther’s great hymn A Mighty Fortress Is Our God contains these words:

And though this world with devils filled should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.

One little word should bring the fall and demise of the Prince of Darkness. So what is that one little word? It’s not just a word, but it’s the Word – the Word that was made flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. The word, the Word – capital W, the name is of course Jesus, Yeshua, Joshua which literally means the Lord saves or the Lord’s salvation.

In our Gospel lesson for today that speaks about demon possession of a Canaanite woman’s daughter, we see the power and salvation that does in fact come from that name – the name of Jesus.

If you will allow me to backtrack just a bit, let’s ground what’s happening here by what has transpired before this episode. I think it will help us understand the woman’s words to Jesus and His harsh sounding words in return.

At the end of Matthew 13 we have Jesus’ rejection in Nazareth and those famous words, “a prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household.” Chapter 13 closes with the words, “And he did not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief.” Keep that last statement in mind because its counterclaim will come out in our passage we heard this morning.

The next chapter of Matthew contains the death of John the Baptist, the feeding of the 5,000 (which we will hear about on the Fourth Sunday in Lent), Jesus’ walking on water, and the miraculous healings and tremendous outpourings of faith by those in Gennesaret. Jesus is in some of the remotest regions of the Promised Land, areas quite removed from Jerusalem by a fairly large distance.

I mention this only because of how chapter 15 begins. It says that Pharisees and Scribes came to Jesus from Jerusalem to harass him about the hand washing habits of his disciples. Jesus explains to them that it isn’t what goes into the body that defiles it, but what comes out that causes trouble.

In our lesson today we have him traveling to Tyre and Sidon which was one of the furthest and remotest places from Jerusalem, and as William Barclay points out, “the only occasion on which Jesus is outside Jewish territory.” He has actually travelled to Phoenician territory and thus into Gentile lands. As Barclay puts forward Jesus is trying to have some time away from the hand washing police and the pure food club that truly was the bane of Jesus’ existence.

So, Jesus has come into Phoenician territory and a Canaanite woman comes to Him seeking a miracle for her demon possessed daughter. Perhaps Jesus’ reputation has preceded Him and she knew that He was the miracle worker and healer that she had heard rumors about. However, at closer look there is more here than meets the eye.

First of all she calls Him by His rightful title of kurios or Lord. That by itself isn’t overly significant, but combined with the fact that she used the messianic title, Son of David, it is quite significant.

Combining Jesus, with Lord and Son of David is an acknowledgment that the long-awaited Messiah was right there in front of her. And to that acknowledgment, Jesus answers her not a word.

The disciples are annoyed with her and beg Jesus to simply send her away. Jesus’ response here is quite interesting considering where he had just travelled from and where he was at the moment. He tells her that He was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.

At closer inspection there is something remarkable about that statement – Jesus is outside Jewish territory. He’s not in Israel anymore. He’s on the outskirts and yet there are those out there who see him, acknowledge him, and call upon Him as the Messiah and Saviour.

To this, Jesus responds in what are stinging words where He says that it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs. The woman is undaunted by this response and replies with words exhibiting the most humility imaginable. She says in response, Yes Lord, but even the dogs have a chance to eat the crumbs that fall from the master’s table.

She has no problem admitting that she is an outsider, an outcast, not part of the Chosen people, a Gentile, a dog. Yet, she replies with no indignation whatsoever, but that nourishment comes from the master’s table, even if it is just a crumb or scrap that happens to fall.

Jesus praises this Gentile woman’s faith and her daughter was healed immediately. If you remember what I said a few minutes ago that Jesus could do no miracles in his own hometown. The hometown folks were the part of the house of Israel and they did not have faith through which He could work miracles. Thus, they suffered in being deprived of their native son’s power.

Jesus wanted for the chosen people to know Him, acknowledge Him, and believe on Him. They would have none of it, and thus, Jesus does go to find some of the lost sheep of the house of Israel, except many of them were outside the Promised Land. The lost sheep of the house of Israel is anyone who would call upon the Name of the Lord, proclaim before all mankind that Jesus Christ is the Son of the Living God, and that there is no hope, no salvation, no life, no nourishment apart from him.

This Canaanite woman was bold enough to make this proclamation on behalf of her demon possessed daughter and she was instantly healed. May we be bold enough to make that same proclamation in the midst of the trials and tribulations that we face in this life! May we be bold enough to make this proclamation so that we might not seek solace simply from the crumbs which fall from the master’s table, but that we might have a seat at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb that awaits all who place their trust, their hope, and their life in the One who was sent to seek and save that which was lost, the lost sheep of the house of Israel of which you and I claim adoption as His children, and heirs of all that the Master has promised since time immemorial for those who love Him.

2011-03-21T11:36:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the First Sunday in Lent
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
March 13, 2011

When I was in seminary and taking a course in Homiletics, which is the study of preaching, my instructor used a box, divided into four quadrants to judge and assess our sermons. She was looking at them critically so that with work and practice we might be able to craft an effective message week after week, and allow us to answer some fundamental questions about the message we are given to deliver.

The first quadrant was the actual exegesis of the text itself. Exegesis is simply a word that means what do you read from the text itself, what are the words actually saying. This is the plain and simple meaning of the particular passage with all of its nuances pertaining to language, grammar, syntax, etc. If you ever examine a detailed commentary there is always a section that gives this type of information, and is quite useful in examining a section of Scripture in more depth and detail.

The second quadrant is what she called “the human condition then.” This was an exercise of trying to put one’s self into the context of a first century hearer of the story. How would someone have heard what Jesus was saying if he were a Pharisee, or an ordinary Jew, or a Roman centurion, or simply a passer-by who might overhear what was happening? It’s much like what we talked about in our study of the Parable of the Prodigal Son; the human condition then exposes the scandal right at the beginning, but if we don’t read and hear that parable with first century eyes we will miss it. The first and second quadrants go hand-in-hand with one another.

The third and fourth quadrants also work in tandem with the third called the “human condition now,” which is an exegesis of you, the hearer of the sermon, and the fourth being the “proclamation.” These two quadrants help to answer the questions “so what” or “now what.” If the sermon never touches on these final quadrants in a real and palpable way, then what was just delivered wasn’t really a sermon, but was a teaching. If each of you walk away from a sermon and the first thoughts that come to mind were, “that sure was some nice information about that passage,” or worst of all, “I wonder what was in there for me,” then I’m afraid that I’ve failed in my duty to convey the Word of God in a meaningful and practical way, I’ve shirked my duties as a priest and pastor, and worst of all, I’ve not helped convey the practical nature of the Gospel to impact our lives as Christians and disciples of Jesus Christ.

This morning’s Gospel lesson is perhaps one of the most practical passages in Scripture because it conveys one of the central tenets of life as a human being and Christian disciple – we are constantly tempted to do things that we know are contrary to what we should do. Except in those rare circumstances of encountering someone who is somehow disposed to showing no remorse, no grief, no sense of right and wrong, almost everyone regardless of their belief system knows deep down inside when they are doing something that is wrong.

For the Christian, we must go one step further and actually begin to answer the question why something is wrong, and why we must confront it.

On this first Sunday in Lent we begin our journey with the familiar words of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness by Satan. In this text I believe that we can find great comfort in the words of this Gospel lesson and we really must look no further than the first verse of Matthew’s fourth chapter for the reason why. It says that, “Jesus was led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil.” Jesus was actually led into the wilderness for the very purpose of being tempted. It didn’t just happen that he went into the wilderness and the devil happened to catch him there and began to tempt him. He was driven into the wilderness for the express purpose of being tempted.

I think we need to look very carefully at what the text says, and not make inferences based upon what it doesn’t say. This temptation narrative does not talk about hurting Jesus, or punishing him, or the imposition of an impassable situation. The author of Ecclesiastes says that “[God] doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men.”

One of the great tenets of Anglicanism and most specifically our belief in Holy Scripture is that it must be read in total to be totally understood. Article XX of the Articles of Religion when speaking of the Authority of the Church makes the following declaration, “…it is not lawful for the Church to ordain any thing that is contrary to God’s Word written, neither may it so expound one place of Scripture, that it be repugnant to another.”

Basically what this is saying is that if we believe Ecclesiastes to be true and the temptation story from Matthew as true, they cannot be in opposition to one another. Jesus was being tempted of Satan in the wilderness and his temptation was for the express purpose of him experiencing the full measure of his humanity. He was not being afflicted or grieved, but he was allowed to experience everything that we face each and every day. In a like manner the Apostle James declares, “Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil, and God does not tempt anyone.”

We also must take note when this temptation occurs. The Gospels make it quite clear that Jesus was driven out into the wilderness immediately after his baptism. Why is this so important?

When Jesus was baptized in the River Jordan by his cousin John, he was accepting the plight of all humanity by fulfilling all righteousness as he declared. He was receiving an anointing if you will to be the bearer of the sins of whole world. At Jesus’ baptism, he was taking mankind’s sin onto himself, which He would take all the way to the cross and dispense with them once and for all. He was baptized to take our sin onto himself, so that when we are baptized we might have that stain removed, and be reborn and regenerated into a new creature.

One of the two dogmas of the Christian faith is that we believe that Jesus was both completely human and completely divine. It seems to me that it’s somewhat easier to believe in Jesus’ divinity than it is his humanity. We want to try and soften things a bit and think that Jesus was able to use his divinity in a superhuman way to ward off evil and suffering. That He would have been able to tap into something that was unique to Him that we don’t have, and thus, begs the question, how is Jesus like me, and how can He relate to my suffering, my temptation, my trials and tribulations? I want to believe He can, but it’s rather difficult.

In the Epistle to the Hebrews, St. Paul makes it quite clear that we do indeed have a Saviour who has in fact walked along the same path as we have. “Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same nature, that through death he might destroy him who has the power of death, that is, the devil,” and “for because he himself has suffered and been tempted, he is able to help those who are tempted.”

We begin our Lenten journey of fasting, prayer, and alms giving with these traditional words of Jesus’ temptation because we are going to face those same things in our lives. We will be tempted to place creation over the Creator in the things that we worship other than Almighty God. We will be tempted to try and use God in a utilitarian way as something like a genie in a bottle where we want him when things go wrong, but then keep him neatly tucked away on a shelf when we don’t. We will be tempted to seek nourishment from the things of this world, and not from the true source of nourishment that comes from our Lord Himself.

These were the temptations that Jesus faced, and he faced them so that He might show us a more excellent way of coming through those temptations on the other side. Jesus endured these temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil so that we might receive assurance that our trials and testing is not for our downfall, but for our uplifting. For those who die with Christ will also be raised with Christ. If we deign to call ourselves Christians, and yet think that we’ve somehow moved beyond the assaults of the devil, we’ve missed something crucial along the way.

“For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.”

We worship a Saviour who has fulfilled both roles, that of priest who stands before His Father and offers the sacrifices for the people, and that of victim who became the sacrifice. The only that happened was through his baptism, his fasting and temptation, his betrayal, his death, his resurrection, his ascension, as we await his return in power and glory.

On Ash Wednesday in the Great Litany, we prayed that God might deliver us from all these things. The only way that we might be delivered from them is resting in the fact that Jesus went through those very same things himself.

My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.

The journey of Lent leads us to the cross and our dying to sin, and then to the empty tomb where death is conquered and where new life is restored.

May we embrace this road that will include temptations and trials along the way in order that they might work in us the perfection that is completed in the work of Jesus Christ our Lord.

2011-03-06T07:13:00.001-05:00

Sermon for Quinquagesima
St. John’s – Moultrie, GA
March 7, 2011

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. With those words begins the eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. I’ll bet that most of you could probably guess upon which Feast Day we hear that verse read as the appointed Epistle lesson. If you said the Feast of St. Thomas, you would be right.

Recalling the story from the twentieth chapter of St. John, Jesus makes his first appearance to ten of the apostles and Thomas is not present. We don’t know where he is or what he was doing, but we do know that when he is told that Jesus was alive and he had the unanimous testimony of his fellow disciples, he refused to believe and accept this wonderful Good News. He said that unless he saw it for himself, and actually felt and handled Jesus for himself, he would not believe. He had to have hard evidence. Faith in his brethren was not enough, he wanted more. Of course Jesus does come back eight days later, and Thomas received what he asked for, empirical, physical evidence that Jesus was alive. After this revelation, he does the only thing that he naturally should do, fall down and worship, and declare that his Lord, and his God was raised from the dead and was standing right before his face. Jesus does speak to us in that exchange when he says, “blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.” St. Augustine defines faith as, “believ[ing] what you do not see; [with] the reward of this faith is to see what you belive.” St. Anselm of Canterbury took this statement of St. Augustine when he developed his maxim, Credo ut intelligam, which means I believe in order that I might understand. We are on a lifelong journey of the soul to return to its only source of life and existence – Almighty God, the Creator of all life.

Faiths tandem virtue, of the three theological virtues is hope. Hope in a biblical sense isn’t some nostalgic longing that has an easy come, easy go, type connotation. It is so much more than that, and completely rejects that type of notion. Hope in a biblical sense carries with it a certitude that cannot be discounted or diminished. Tomorrow morning when we commit the ashes of Judy VerBerkmoes to the ground we will do so with the following words, “UNTO Almighty God we commend the soul of our sister departed, and we commit her ashes to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ, at whose coming in glorious majesty to judge the world, the earth and the sea shall give up their dead; and the corruptible bodies of those who sleep in him shall be changed, and made like unto his own glorious body; according to the mighty working whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself.”

Because those words are anchored in God, they do carry with them a certainty that is sure, certain, believable, and true because they are tied to the future life that is beyond our comprehension.

John Maxwell tells about a small town in Maine that was proposed for the site of a great hydro-electric plant. A dam would be built across the river and the town submerged. When the project was announced, the people were given many months to arrange their affairs and relocate.

During those months, a curious thing happened. All improvements ceased. No painting was done. No repairs were made on the buildings, roads, or sidewalks. Day by day the whole town got shabbier and shabbier. A long time before the waters came, the town looked uncared for and abandoned, even though the people had not yet moved away. One citizen explained: “Where there is no faith there is no future, there is not power in the present.” That town was cursed with hopelessness because it had no future.

The great Puritan John Bunyan once declared, “Hope is never ill when faith is well.”

Faith and hope go hand-in-hand, but their anchor and ultimate source must be found in the greatest of the theological virtues, charity. We’ve come to only know charity as giving to the poor, or showing people charity in a monetary or compassionate sense. Certainly that is one aspect or component of charity, but there is so much more to that word than simply our disposition toward meeting other people’s needs.

Charity is the highest of the four Greek words that we most often translate as love. We are not speaking of simply affection, or friendship, or a sexual type of love, a completely self-giving love that is so concerned about the other that vices such as pride, anger, wrath, and the like begin to be subdued.

The Summary of the Law that we hear in every celebration of the Holy Eucharist speaks to this notion. All that we do, all that we are should revolve around charity toward God and charity toward our neighbor. We are to love God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength first and foremost. How do we do that? We cannot do it on our own, we must ask for help, and that is exactly what our collect prayed for. We asked God that He might, “pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of charity, [which is] the very bond of peace and of all virtues.” We must ask God to do the pouring. It’s not like we can just go in for a fill-up, we have to ask God to dispense unto us this most wonderful gift.

We must first love God because that is the only way that we can ever begin to love ourselves and our neighbours. In St. Augustine’s spiritual biography The Confessions, he relays the story of his deep love for a dear friend who falls ill, is baptized while he is unaware it is happening due to his illness (we’ll discuss the implications of this later), recovers, gives up his pagan beliefs and becomes a catholic Christian, falls ill again and does in fact die. Augustine is so heartbroken over the loss of his friend he cannot contain himself. He is distraught and can find no solace for his grief. When Augustine talks to his friend and jokingly tells him what happened, Nebridius begins to try to convert Augustine away from his pagan beliefs. He is shocked that the baptism took effect, and makes his grief even stronger. He bemoans the fact that he even has to awaken each day because wherever he goes he knows that his friend will not be there.

When Augustine is finally converted to the catholic faith by Blessed Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, he finally recognizes that his love for Nebridius was disordered. He was putting his faith, hope, and love into something that was part of creation, and was thus perishable, and would ultimately die. He loved Nebridius in himself when he should have been loving him in God. Only when Augustine discovers this proper order for his love of his fellow man could he truly love him as he should. Once Augustine reordered his affection first toward Almighty God, the one who is imperishable, infinite, and eternal could he then learn to love his neighbour as himself.

In his book The Four Loves, C. S. Lewis describes the effects of Augustine’s loss as follows:

St. Augustine describes the desolation into which the death of his friend Nebridius plunged him. Then he draws a moral. This is what comes, he says, of giving one’s heart to anything but God. All human beings pass away. Do not let your happiness depend on something you may lose. If love is to be a blessing, not a misery, it must be for the only Beloved who will never pass away.

Lewis goes on to say that in order to love we must be willing to be vulnerable, we must be willing to be exposed for who we really are. The only way we are ever truly going to love and be loved is if we are willing to take this risk.

Even in our human relationships and friendships, no matter how hard we might try we are never truly vulnerable. There is always something that we either keep inside and choose not to share.

With God, He has taken the first step and held back nothing; He shared it all and became vulnerable to the point of becoming a part of Creation, of living as a human being, of being tempted and tried in every way just like us, sin excepted. God’s vulnerability led him to the cross, but in so doing, He led us back to Himself.

Faith, Hope, and Charity the three theological virtues. Without faith, we can never truly understand. Without hope, we live as folk without a future. Without charity, we will never have the other two. That is why St. Paul says that charity is the greatest of the three because it follows the first two, but then leads us back to them again.

O Lord, who hast taught us that all our doings without charity are nothing worth; Send thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of charity, the very bond of peace and of all virtues, without which whosoever liveth is counted dead before thee. Grant this for thine only Son Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.

2011-02-28T09:39:00.002-05:00

Sermon for Sexagesima
St. John’s – Moultrie, GA
February 27, 2011

Last Sunday we heard the example from St. Paul about a runner who runs and trains to obtain the prize, and the boxer who hones his skills so that he is not just wildly striking at the air, but that his punches might strike actual blows. This notion of training and spring were gathered around the imagery of Spring Training and this time of Pre-Lent and Lent being a training time for the soul.

A second characteristic of spring that should be familiar to all of us here in South Georgia is the preparation of the fields for the planting of the spring crops. As I drive back and forth from Thomasville to Moultrie I see the buzz of activity in the fields that I pass between there and here and farmers diligently making sure that everything is in order, that the soil is properly tilled, weeded, cultivated, and prepared to receive the precious seed that he is preparing to cast. The farmer’s seed is his livelihood. Each growing season he isn’t afforded the luxury of being nonchalant about his preparation because the work that is done in advance will pay massive dividends when it comes to harvest time. If he does not do due diligence in preparing his field, the yield will be adversely affected.

We come this morning on the second Sunday of Pre-Lent, Sexagesima Sunday, to a most familiar and unique parable of Jesus. It is familiar in the sense that it is one of the very few parables that is found in all three synoptic Gospels, and the form is almost identical between the variations. That is significant in itself. It is unique in the sense that it is one of the rare instances where Jesus not only tells a parable, but fully exposits its meaning. Jesus’ hearers aren’t left to discover on their own what Jesus is talking about when he uses a parable to teach his disciples and followers.

Four types of soil are presented in Jesus’ parable and only one produces any results. And what results did it yield! Three of the four places where the seed fell produced nothing. In one instance it never had a chance. It would be the equivalent of walking out in the middle of Main Street and casting seed in hopes of it taking root. The seed would simply remain up on top of the ground, and would become bird seed. As the parable declares, the birds do in fact swoop in and consume that which falls along the path where there was no chance of it taking root.

In two of the four soils growth begins, but for different reasons never reaches the harvest. The first actually falls among rock that isn’t prepared to help the seeds reach maturity. It’s somewhat interesting that Luke is the only Gospel writer to say that the reason that the rocky soil is detrimental because of the lack of moisture. In his explanation of the parable, Jesus says that this type of environment can produce the beginnings of something positive, but one that has no future. This could be compared to driving along the road and seeing weeds and such growing in between the pavement and curb. You’ll see these weeds that never seem to go away growing in a place that doesn’t make sense. Even though you may have a shoot here and a shoot there, there is no real harvest to speak of. Also, if you think more about this image, the rocky soil provides no room to apply life giving water and nourishment because more tends to run off rather than soak in. There’s a chance for a beginning, but no opportunity for mature growth and a harvest.

The third soil is that which is full of other competitors for water, nourishment, sunlight, and the like. There are always other things that crowd out and choke out the very things we need for our spiritual growth, and this is the warning of this type of environment. We are always going to be confronted with the cares of this world. Yet, we are never to keep our eyes off the prize, and allow those cares to take precedence, and thus choke out the good seed that lies below.

Finally, the fourth soil is the only one that produces a harvest, and a bounteous one at that. It was soil that was free from being trampled underfoot, free from rocks that are so hard and confining they will not allow nutrients to penetrate or room to spread and grow, free from thorns and thistles and other obstacles that compete for the necessities to growth. This is good soil that was prepared, cultivated, weeded, tended, cared for, and ready for the seed that was cast upon it.

I believe one of the most important lessons to be learned from this parable is the fact that all of these types of soil are in close proximity to one another. It appears from close examination that there is always the danger of the good soil being corrupted and being trampled, or becoming filled of stones, or infiltrated with thorns and weeds. The diligence required of keeping the good soil good is a never ending process. If we ask any of the farmers here in Colquitt County they will tell us that they are engaged in a never ending battle with hindrances to the growth and harvest of their crops. There are always outside forces at work that introduce obstacles. The wind, birds, weather, God forbid vandals, all lie just around the corner to spoil that which is good.

Is our life not the same? Isn’t there always something that creeps in just when we are cultivating a renewed life of prayer, or study of God’s Word, or enjoying the grace that comes through the receiving of the Sacraments? The only way that we can reap an abundant harvest is if we constantly ask God to tend the soil of our lives. It requires work, and lots of it.

We are constantly at work confronting the many dangers that lie in front of us all. We are first in danger of carelessly hearing the word. “This lies at the threshold of the Christian life, and prevents even the entrance of the good seed. The word enters the ear, but never reaches the heart, and quickly passes away even from memory, being caught away by the spirit of evil or crushed by fresh tramplings of worldliness.”

The trials and tribulations of life endanger us. “Trial and temptation mark a crisis in the Christian life, and like the fierce sunshine scorches the shallow-hearted, while they only ripen those deeply rooted.”

Prosperity forms the third danger to growth. “These come with the cares, riches, and pleasures of later years, even when the seed has found lodgment and the blade has given promise. The plant of grace cannot grow in a thicket of worldliness which shuts out God’s light and air. These dangers are found as men “go on their way,” and against them we pray in the Litany, “in all time of our wealth, Good Lord, deliver us.””

“Our Saviour’s closing words seem to favour the interpretation above given the various stages of life and their special dangers. We need not ask which state of ground is ours, for we may resemble all in turn. There are no hearts by nature good ground. Those that are such have been made such by the ploughshares of God’s grace, by His deepening of our shallow soil, by His cleansing processes. Even the good ground hearers should advance in fruitfulness, and will even, like the bending ear, become more humble as they ripen. Here is, therefore, reason both for eternal effort and constant humility that we may hear; hold fast what we have heard; and bring forth fruit with patience.”

May the Lord cultivate the soil of our lives this Lent and beyond that the good seed that He sows might find the good soil that will ensure the abundant harvest that we are all called to produce.

*******Quotations above from The Harmony of the Collects, Epistles, and Gospels by Melville Scott.******

2011-02-19T23:08:00.001-05:00

Sermon for Septuagesima
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
February 20, 2011

On Monday of this past week pitchers and catchers reported for the traditional opening of America’s pastime – Spring Training and the resumption of Major League Baseball. It’s been interesting to see many of my friends on facebook make posts counting down the days to opening day and the start of another season. While a fan of baseball I certainly don’t follow it to this level. However, I think that it’s important to think just a moment about this ritual that all athletes go through each year as they embark upon another year of competition on the field of play.

This past Monday was February 14 and opening day of the baseball season is not until April 1. That is 45 days of practice and preparation for the regular season – a season that lasts 162 games from April 1 until late September. For those who continue to the World Series you are looking at the potential for an additional 19 games taking the total to 181 if a team played the maximum number for a season.

That’s allot of work for a trophy and a title. It’s allot for a pennant and the title World Champions. These are folks who are work incredibly hard, put in the time, training, and discipline, embrace correction in order to improve and succeed at an even higher level than before. Baseball isn’t the only sport with a pre-season to help the athletes ease into the rigors of the season of competition that lies ahead. In fact, all the major professional sports have a number of weeks building up to the big day when everything counts, records matter, statistics are kept for all time.

If you noticed in the prayer book the title over the Propers today said “PRE-LENTEN SEASON.” We have a period of three weeks, today and two more Sundays before our annual pilgrimage through the season of Lent and the disciplines that we attempt to cultivate as we strive to keep a Holy Lent and recognize more fully the events that lie ahead during Passiontide. It is an attempt to embrace more fully the condition of man as that part of God’s creation that was fearfully and wonderfully made, and yet fell from that most intimate communion with our Creator. We will hear again on Ash Wednesday and every service until Palm Sunday that God does not hate anything that he made, and that still includes each of us in our fallen state of grace.

Our pre-season, if you will, is a time in which we can prepare our mind, our heart, and our will to the life that discipleship requires. The readings that we will hear over the next seventy days, Septuagesima basically means seventy and marks the countdown toward Easter. As we heard last Sunday, we need this time to continue on that lifetime vocation of being pure as our Lord Jesus is pure. Our life as disciples must involve a lifetime of discipline.

Just like the athletes who have begun spring training, we as Christians must begin the Pre-Lenten training that lies ahead.

St. Paul uses two different images in the Epistle that speaks about the work training that hopefully help us to recognize the dangers of a lazy Lent. He speaks about two different athletes as he describes the Christian life – one of a runner, and one a boxer.

From the image of the runner we see our journey as a race, not as a sprint or a short distance run, but that of a marathon. I don’t know if anyone here has ever trained for a marathon before. I’ve never trained for one personally, but I’ve been to Runner’s World dot com, and I can tell you that the regiment is structured and long to prepare to embark on a 26.2 mile endurance run. For most who train to run a race of significant distance, whether 10K, half or whole marathon, the prize for the vast majority is simply finishing. Knowing that the months of hard work, training, honing the body has paid off, and the runner crosses the finish line feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment that many never experience. First prize in an event such as these is not even on the radar screen, but seeing that completed time is what urges most forward.

Perhaps many recognize that proverbial laurel wreath that the top finisher receives upon finishing first is simply a perishable and corruptible earthly crown that will eventually gather dust and be forgotten. St. Paul in our Epistle this morning says that only one who races will obtain the prize, but that prize is an earthly prize, but a prize and an inheritance that is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. In the race that lies before us all, there are many winners, not just the one who finishes first. In actuality, there is only one winner, one who finished first, and in fact, he already possessed a crown of glory that was His from the beginning of time.

In our Lenten journey that lies before us, we must always remember that like the marathon runner, our training will require work, and lots of it. It will require study, prayer, fasting, alms giving, works of charity, and most of all worship. The training that we endure will drive us to continue to work even harder. Many who train for a race admit that the more they train, the more they want to train. I know whenever I’ve done any type of training such as this, and looking at me you might wonder if I’m actually telling the truth, I would agree. My motivation was somewhat skewed because I actually didn’t like to think about getting things going again whenever I took time off. The motivation to jumpstart things again was harder after a prolonged time off than the perseverance of keeping going.

Our Christian lives are no different. Think about the times in your lives when your prayer life is fruitful, worship truly speaks to your heart, relationships are fulfilling, and God is nearer than in times past. It causes you to want to pray more, study His word more, engage in works of charity and the like. This is when you can truly sense the work paying dividends, and it urges you onward. This time of Lent that awaits us beckons us to reflect more deeply and intentionally upon those aspects of our lives that require more structured training and discipline. It’s a time to make a more diligent examination of conscience and ask the Holy Spirit to guide you and enlighten those areas that need correction.

One thing to keep in mind here is that the discipline of Lent is not optional. If we are going to wear and embrace the title of disciple, then the discipline of Lent is ours to accept and embrace wholeheartedly.

The other image that Paul puts before us is that of the boxer. The training of boxers and the training for runners is quite different. Long-distance runners aren’t necessarily concerned with short bursts of speed and energy, but need to know how to tap into their reserves toward the end of the race. Boxers on the other hand have only 3 minutes in the ring their opponents in each round and most are over in 10 rounds if they go the entire distance. Think about it. A boxer is only in the ring actually competing for a maximum of 30 minutes with a short break every 3 minutes. A marathon runner will whittle away the miles over the course of 3 or 4 hours depending on the average time per mile. The boxer must maintain a great degree of stamina in short bursts, and be constantly aware of changing circumstances.

Paul gives both examples because we are tempted to ask the question, so what is it? Is it stamina or is it strategy? Is it endurance or bursts of energy? As is so often the case, the answer is YES. It’s not an either/or situation, but a both/and. We must be prepared to encounter the temptations and assaults of the world, the flesh, and the devil when they come upon us unawares, and we are in the midst of temptation before we know what’s happened. We must have the endurance, the patience, the temperance to continue to wage war against those besetting sins that we take into the confessional each and every time we kneel down before Almighty God. It’s both, and Lent is an opportunity to draw closer to the one who is the expert trainer in both disciplines.

Spring Training for the upcoming season of Major League Baseball began this past Monday. It is a time for those chasing the temporal crown as champion of America’s pastime to prepare their bodies for the rigors of the upcoming season. The Season of Lent, the spring training of our souls if you will, is upon us once again in order that we might prepare our mind, our bodies, and our wills to be conformed to the One that we hail as Lord, the One who is holy as we strive to be so, that we might obtain that crown of immortality that awaits all who call upon the blessed name of God – the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

2011-02-14T12:49:00.000-05:00

Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
February 13, 2011

I must admit, I’m a liturgics and Prayer Book junkie! I make no apologies for this, and if it’s some obscure little point of fact, the better.

There’s an interesting little caveat in the rubrics of the Prayer Book that I want to share with you as it pertains to our Church Kalendar and the appointed readings during the year. If you spend any time with the Propers as found in the Book of Common Prayer, you may notice that the structure is quite ordered and logical in its sequence. This is no accident, and it’s one reason that I for one find it to be a more superior Lectionary than the three-year cycle as adopted in the 1979 book. We can save the rationale for another time and place, but the beauty of the historic lectionary is this – the Church Year is broken into two halves, the period from Advent Sunday, the beginning of the year through Whitsunday, and the second half being Trinitytide. As one person put it regarding this sequencing:

The purpose of the first part is to display to us and enable us to re-enact the life of Christ. The liturgy makes us contemplate our Lord’s birth, miracles, death, resurrection and ascension into heaven. In a sense we are present with Christ’s family and disciples at the great moments of his life. We witness them and, like Mary, store them up in our hearts. (Luke 2.51)
The purpose of Trinity season is different. This period is meant to teach us how to live as disciples of Christ. We have walked with Christ, now we must learn to walk as Christ. We have witnessed the mighty acts of the Spirit of God in Christ, now we must learn how to live by that Spirit ourselves. Simply put, in the first period we review the great truths of our faith; and in the second we review how we ought to apply these truths in our daily lives.

I mentioned something about the rubrics that I want to point out. If you would turn to p. 224, you’ll see printed in italics the following words, “If in any year there be twenty-six Sundays after Trinity, the service for the Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany shall be used on the Twenty-fifth Sunday. If there be twenty-seven, the service for the Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany shall be used on the Twenty-sixth, and the service for the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany on the Twenty-fifth. If there be fewer than twenty-five Sundays, the overplus shall be omitted.”

I’ll bet you didn’t have to guess that I love that word overplus, but sorry, I digress into my idiosyncrasies around the Prayer Book. I mention this only because of what I just mentioned about the Lectionary and the Kalendar. If these lessons ever need be substituted for Trinitytide, do they fit? Are they appropriate in the first half of the year when we speak of re-enacting the life of Christ, and his time on earth, as well as, when they would be read during Trinitytide as discipleship lessons? I’d say that they most certainly would. For we have in these readings a link or bridge if you will of time past, present, and future.

What am I getting at here?

If we take a look at the collect, epistle, and gospel lesson as an entity you’ll see that we have a look back at the epiphany past, the realization of how that first epiphany manifests itself in the Christian life of a disciple today, and the hopeful expectation of the epiphany yet to come.

First, we see the epiphany past or the snapshot of Jesus’ life on earth. Our collect prays that we might meditate and comprehend why our Lord became incarnate in the first place. Three reasons for are given, and they too are form an archetype of the trinity of the past, present and the future.

Jesus came first to destroy the works of the devil, Jesus past.

He came next to make us sons of God, Jesus present.

Finally, he came so that we might be made heirs of eternal life, Jesus future.

Time collapses in the person of Jesus Christ.

We then see the appropriateness of these lessons in the second half of the church year as they speak of our lives in the present as his disciples, walking as Christ in the present age. We call upon God to make us pure, as Jesus is pure. The theological name for this is sanctification. If we say that something has been sanctified it has been set apart, consecrated for a particular purpose, it is not merely secular but carries with it a divine sanction as well. As noted in the verb tenses here, there is always a striving and future component to our sanctification because this process is never complete on this side of life, but our entire journey as pilgrims is a life of purifying ourselves so that we slowly but surely begin to look like the one who is pure in His very essence.

Where these lessons continue one step further is that they invite us envision the epiphany that is yet to come and the life that awaits all who call upon the Name of the Lord. The collect concludes with those words of longing and expectation when we await our Lord’s coming again in power and great glory, not just that we might see it, but that we might be made like unto him in our redeemed form. As we recall from Genesis, God said, “let us make man in our own image.” That wonderful phrase that we sometimes hear proclaimed the imago dei – the image of God. When we are reunited to him we inherit as his children a kingdom that has a twofold nature that is beyond our human comprehension – eternal and glorious.

What makes all of this so remarkable is that all of this is not just a concept, or a notion, or a dream, but it finds its culmination in a person. As St. Paul declares Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He is the one who was, and is, and is to come. What we are preparing to do in a few moments when we celebrate once again the Sacred Mysteries of Christ’s Body and Blood in the present we are proclaiming the Lord’s death in the past until He come again in the future to reign for all eternity.

I find this notion of past, present, and future so captivating because it heightens within the notion of awe and wonder, and when those emotions become stimulated the only proper response is worship. The prophet Isaiah declares, “Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.”

We continue to be fascinated with time and its very essence because we are in time, and constrained by time. However, we are not intended to live that way forever. As the writer of Ecclesiastes declares, “God has written eternity on our hearts.” That means there will forever be within us a longing for home – a longing to be reunited to the One whose very dwelling place is eternity. C. S. Lewis helps explain this well when he speaks of our continued fascination by time and its passage. Our amazement of this phenomenon would be much like a fish who was constantly surprised by the wetness of water. That would be quite strange indeed, unless of course that fish were one day destined to live on land. What Lewis is saying here is that here on earth our very existence is encapsulated within time, but one day we will live for all eternity in the presence of the glorious majesty of Almighty God. Since God has written eternity on our hearts, blessed St. Augustine most succinctly but profoundly said, “for Thou has formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in Thee.”

We come once again to a time of transition in our church from one epiphany to another. We are beginning our transition toward Lent and that time of intentional focus upon the saving work that our Lord wrought on our behalf. This is the time that we must be ever vigilant to concentrate more fully upon the epiphany of the present and strive toward that purity and holiness that was made manifest in Jesus Christ. Let us come and soothe the restlessness of our hearts by dwelling more intentionally with the one brings all existence, past, present, and future, into one glorious nature, that of the Incarnate Son of the Living God.

2011-02-14T12:47:00.002-05:00

Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany
St. John’s – Moultrie, GA
February 6, 2011

And Jesus said to his disciples, “As therefore the tares are gathered and burned in the fire; so shall it be in the end of this world. The Son of man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them which do iniquity; And shall cast them into a furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth. Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.”

Jesus speaks to his disciples on a number of occasions about the final judgment of good and evil. The Bible is replete with passages which speak about putting things to right, and that in the end, God alone will judge His people. All three ancient Creeds of the Church express the same belief that Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father: and he shall come again, with glory, to judge both the quick and the dead. The Creed of Saint Athanasius goes further and states that after Christ’s second coming, “…all men shall rise again with their bodies, and shall give account for their own works. And they that have done good shall go into life everlasting; and they that have done evil into everlasting fire.” No parables of Jesus are as clear regarding separation and judgment as the parable we heard this morning and two others which follow in St. Matthew’s Gospel – one regarding a net being cast into the sea and the separation of the good fish from the bad; the other from the 25th chapter of Matthew which deals with the separation of the sheep and goats, and the command of Jesus that whatever we have done to the least of our brethren we have done it unto him.

In the summer of 2008 when the Lambeth Conference of Anglican bishops was gathered, Bishop Gene Robinson was preaching at St. Mary’s Church in Putney, a suburb in West London. He began his sermon speaking about the emotion of fear. He said that many people today were caught in the grip of fear whether it was in regards to finances, violence, hunger, poverty, sickness, and quite simply an overall state of fear engulfed far too many people. About two minutes into his sermon Robinson said, “How discouraging that the Anglican Communion would be tearing itself apart because two men…” At that point, a gentleman stood up from the congregation, pointed his finger in his direction, and said the following, “It’s because of heretics like you sir. Because heretics like you preach the gospel but you depart from it.” Members of the congregation began clapping and many of his comments became inaudible, other than his admonition to go back to America, and repent, repent, repent. Eventually, the congregation began to sing a hymn, the rector stood up and announced the hymn number, and his comments were then drowned out by the organ and singing. Throughout it all, Bp. Robinson said nothing in response, and eventually ushers escorted the man outside. It was unfortunate to see the manner in which an unvested clergyman showed this man to the door, but apparently the service continued uninterrupted. After reading some news reports which have since come to light, it appeared that the rector was anticipating some sort of interruption, and apparently the hymn had been pre-selected just in case something like this happened.

Who is to accept the mantle, and bear the responsibility to call Bp. Robinson and many others for that matter to task for their perversion of the Gospel? Is it someone who stands up during a sermon, and admonishes the preacher to repent, and cease the preaching of heresy? Should it be bodies within our dioceses, within the House of Bishops, or perhaps another ecclesiastical authority within the wider Anglican Communion? Or should the man in the congregation have simply shaken the dust off his feet as a sign against Bp. Robinson and simply stayed away last Sunday morning?

Our Lord’s words from St. Matthew confront us. Jesus tells his servants that while they slept the enemy came in and sowed tares among the good seed. The servants ask the clarifying question of the man who sowed the seed, “Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? From whence then hath it tares?” In the account of creation, when God saw all that he had created, he said that it was very good. The seed that was sown was good seed, but Satan does everything within his power to corrupt and pervert God’s creation and the pure Gospel of Jesus Christ. He does so in the world and within the Church. Why? Because he knows that within the Church pride is such a strong emotion that we will do all in our power to circumvent God’s authority, and either attempt to rectify the problem by trying to remove the tares prematurely and thus destroying the wheat in the process, or we will try to do our own reaping and thus judge for ourselves. Clearly, Jesus tells his disciples that they have no reason to fear that this isn’t going to happen, or that they need to hurry the process along. God in his divine time will send his angels to gather the harvest together, at which time, the wheat will be separated from the tares, and order will be restored to His creation.

This means that within our lives and within our church, there is inevitably going to be tares along with the wheat. Knowing human nature as we all do, we are going to be tempted to try and rectify things ourselves. As Bishop J. C. Ryle points out, “this parable teaches us, that good and evil will always be found together in the professing Church, until the end of the world.” He goes on to say, “Do what we will to purify a church, we shall never succeed in obtaining a perfectly pure communion. Tares will be found among the wheat. Hypocrites and deceivers will creep in. And, worst of all, if we are extreme in our efforts to obtain purity, we do more harm than good.” There is an old saying that states that, a church is not a sanctuary of saints, but rather, it is a haven for sinners. The more we begin to think of ourselves as being pure wheat, with no tares, the further we depart from the truth. St. John tells us in his First Epistle, if we say we have no sin we are a liar and the truth is not within us. St. Augustine once said regarding this parable and regarding true Christian charity, “Those who are the tares to-day, may be wheat to-morrow.”

The message of the parable speaks first and foremost about God’s ability to judge right and wrong, and that we can rest assured of that fact. Secondarily it speaks to us directly about the judgment of others, and our sinful pride which says I’m right and you’re wrong. Which of us is not guilty? I certainly am! More times than I would care to admit, I readily assert my rightness over someone else’s wrongness. What I should be asserting is Christ Jesus’ righteousness, and that alone will convict the heart, and bring about change, and eventually the fruit of the Spirit.

Everyone who knows us should see the reflection of Jesus in our lives. A preacher I once heard make the assertion that the worst thing that anyone could say about a Christian is that you don’t really look any different from anyone else. How can we bear name of Christ, if we don’t begin to look like him. We are called to live in society, but we aren’t called to look like it. We should look different because we are different. We have been forgiven and we rest in that assurance.

There is the story of a man who would frequently go into a Church, never say a word, but would keep a constant gaze upon the figure of Christ on the Cross. One day, someone asked him about his prayer life, and his constant practice of coming to the church, and simply gazing upon the image of Jesus above the altar. He gave a remarkable response. He said, “I just come to look at him, and he looks at me.” The more time we spend looking at Jesus, the more we begin to look like him. How much time do we actually spend gazing upon Christ? How often do we take the time to gaze upon Jesus, ponder his gift of salvation for each and every one of us, meditate upon his Holy Word, in order that we can allow his gaze in return to bring about the transformation that he longs for us to have? I believe that the more we do that, the more we begin to start looking like Him. The more we gaze upon him, the more we will cease to look like the tares sown by the enemy, and more like the wheat that the Lord sowed with the good seed.

2011-02-01T16:35:00.001-05:00

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany
St. John’s – Moultrie, GA
January 30, 2011

John, you aren’t going to believe what I just heard. There is a rumor going all around Galilee that this miraculous healer is traveling about, and he might just be coming to town. I’m not really sure what to think about this man because the rumors are flying. Supposedly he cast a demon out of this one fellow, and before he did, the demon called him the Holy One of God. Very strange to say the least.

I also heard that he went to the house of a couple of his followers, and one of the fellow’s mother-in-law was in bed with a terrible fever. He simply lifted her up by the hand and the fever left her and she began to go about doing her normal chores as if nothing was wrong. After that, everyone in town who had a disease, and those who suffered from demons came to him and they were all healed. Do you think that he might help you?

I could only imagine what was going through John’s mind upon hearing this news. For as long as he could remember, he had lived as an outcast. He was forced to wear torn clothing, had to shave his hair, live alone outside the camp, and constantly walked around shouting the same words over and over and over, “Unclean, Unclean.” I can’t comprehend the mental trauma associated with having to call out to each and every person you come in contact with to stay away from me lest you come too close. It wasn’t just a skin disease because you completely embodied the disease. Not only was the skin unclean, I’m sure that psychologically John felt that every fiber of his being was unclean. In a literal sense, John was a dead man walking. The most dreaded of these diseases caused the body to decay and die while the person was still living – if you consider that person’s existence living. Yet, John’s friend has just given him the first glimmer of hope he has ever experienced in his life.

Could things be about to change? Is it possible that this faith healer, this miracle worker might actually come close enough to my town to where I might actually get a chance to see him? But how is that going to be possible – I can’t get too close because he’s clean, and I’m not. Are there going to be crowds following him? I can’t worry about those things, all I can do is believe that this is my chance – this is only way that I might be rid of this dreadful disease.

And so, just as he heard, John sees a crowd coming into town. Tons of people he’d never seen in his life, and this one unassuming figure in the middle. It had to be him. This has to be the man that I heard was coming to town.

Should I run up to him? I certainly don’t want to accidentally defile someone as I try to get his attention. What should I do? What is he going to say? Can I really do this?

I have no idea if any or all of these thoughts ran through the mind of John. No, we don’t actually know the leper’s name, nor are we privy to any of the thoughts running through his mind as he prepared to meet up with this person he had heard about, and saw coming toward him. All we know are the brief words that are before us this morning. This story appears in almost the exact same form in both Matthew’s and Luke’s Gospels, and in all three instances, this miracle occurs at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.

There are two points that I want to leave you with this morning concerning the Gospel, and its implications for us in our lives as Christians.

First, it might seem odd for me to say that we are just like the leper. How so? It’s not like anyone here is forced to shave their heads, walk around with torn clothing, having to shout “unclean, unclean” wherever we go. How can we be just like the leper? Because at a much deeper level we share his same condition. His disease affected every part of his body. He was literally dying from the inside out. Because of the disease of sin, we too are dying from the inside out except ours isn’t a skin disease, it’s a soul disease. It permeates every fiber of our being and we are in no way capable of ridding ourselves of it. We are powerless in and of ourselves to help change our condition. That is why in the services of Morning and Evening Prayer, the General Confession states that “there is no health in us.” It is most unfortunate that that line was dropped from the ’79 Book because it clearly and honestly summarizes the human condition. What we inherited from Adam is something we will take to the grave. On this side of life we will constantly be waging war against the forces of the world, the flesh, and the devil.

We must emulate and follow the leper’s wise example. We must acknowledge that we are sick, diseased persons in the greatest need of a physician. We must confess that there truly is no health in us, and that sin robs us of life the way it was intended to be lived. When Adam and Eve sinned they were no longer able to live in union and harmony with God because they were now unclean, and forced to live as an outsider. They were forced to live beyond the walls of Eden, forced to wear clothes for the first time, and not literally, but figuratively forced to cry out “unclean, unclean” because their cleanliness was removed from them forever.

This brings me to my second and final point about this lesson. What Jesus did was so remarkable – not because of the healing (which was quite remarkable), but rather his gesture and words to the leper. First, when the leper assumed a posture of humility and knelt down and asked to be healed, Jesus did the unthinkable – he reached out his hand and touched him. There’s no way to know from the story how long the man had leprosy, but we can probably infer that it had been a very long time since he had been touched by ANYONE! He had lived in isolation ever since he was declared to be unclean, and was a prisoner of his own body. With one move, Jesus changed all of that. He reached out and touched him.

What this ultimately means for him, and for us as well, is that Jesus was willing to trade his cleanness for this man’s uncleanness. He was willing to trade places with this man so that he might go free. Jesus at the outset of his ministry is embodying the full substitutionary atonement – that he would give up his life so that we might ultimately live. He made it possible for us to return to the community and experience life lived to its fullest. He made it possible for the man to experience worship again. He made it possible for the man to know what it was like to be touched by another human being again. Jesus did it for this leper and he does it for us as well.

St. Athanasius in his treatise On The Incarnation makes a most profound statement that at first glance almost sounds heretical until you contemplate what he’s getting at, and what he’s ultimately saying. Regarding Jesus and his life Athanasius said that “God became Man so that man might become God.” St. Irenaeus said in his writings Against Heresies makes a similar point when he writes, “the Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, who did, through his transcendent love, became what we are, that He might bring us to be even what He is Himself.” Neither of these Church Fathers claims that we are assuming divine essence, but rather, through the work of Jesus Christ on the cross we begin truly to live out what it means to be “created in the image and likeness of God.”

Jesus was bearing everything that haunted this leper onto himself in order that he might live the rest of his life free from this dreadful disease. Jesus has born everything onto himself on the hard wood of the cross in order that we might live our lives free curse of the law, and might begin to live our lives as the created beings he intended from the very beginning.

As we draw close to Lent, may we contemplate the story of this leper, who drew near with faith, and asked the Great Physician to heal and cleanse him of his dreadful disease. May we also draw near to the Great Physician and ask him to heal and cleanse us from the dreadful diseases which haunt and curse us as well. For if we cry out to Him with a humble voice, and a contrite heart, we will hear him say to us in reply, “I am willing; be clean!”

2011-02-01T16:34:00.002-05:00

Sermon for the Third Sunday after the Epiphany
St. John’s Church –Moultrie, GA
January 23, 2011

Over the past three weeks our Epistle lessons have been from the twelfth chapter of St. Paul’s letter to the Romans. The overarching theme of this chapter has been a calling of the faithful to cultivate that most wondrous of virtues – humility. On the first Sunday following the Epiphany we heard, “to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think.; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.” Last Sunday Paul exhorted the Roman church to, “Bless them which persecute you: bless, and curse not….Mind not high thinks, but condescend to men of low estate.” Finally, this morning, we heard just a few moments ago some of the strongest words regarding humility. “Be not wise in your own conceits. Recompense to no man evil for evil….Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Humility and humbleness is perhaps one of the hardest virtues to achieve. After all, it was pride, the counter vice to humility that led to the fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. They were incapable of discerning the words of the serpent and fell victim to his temptation when he told Eve that she would not die if she ate of the forbidden fruit but rather that her eyes would be opened and that she would be wise, just like God. The sin of pride goes all the way back to the beginning. It was in fact Lucifer’s pride that made him incapable of remaining in his joyous state in the service of God as one of the angels. He was incapable of letting God be God, and wanted to share in the power that he felt he should be able to enjoy. Little did he know that much joy is found in the service and worship of Almighty God.

The former coach of the Los Angeles Lakers, Pat Riley, recounts the story of how pride led to the fall of one the great dynasties in professional basketball in the 1970’s & 80’s. In his book The Winner Within he offers these words of caution for those who let pride take over, and are unable to rejoice in a state of humility.

The [Los Angeles Lakers] won the NBA Championship [in 1980], and they were recognized as the best basketball team in the world. They began their 1980 – 1981 season considered likely to win back-to-back championships. But within weeks of the season opener, Magic Johnson tore a cartilage in his knee, and he needed a three-month recuperation period. The team and the fans rallied, and the remaining players played their hearts out. They determined to make it through that period without losing their ranking. They were winning seventy percent of their games when the time began to draw near for Magic Johnson to return to action.

As his return grew closer, the publicity surrounding him increased. During time-outs at the games, the public address announcer would always say, “And don’t forget to mark your calendars for February 27th. Magic Johnson returns to the lineup of your World Champion Los Angeles Lakers!” During that announcement, the other players would look up and curse. They’d say, “We’re winning now. What’s so great about February 27th?” As the day approached, fewer and fewer things were written or said about the players who were putting out so much effort. All the media attention was focused on the one player who hadn’t been doing a thing. Finally the 27th came, and as they clicked through the turnstiles every one of the 17,500 ticket holders was handed a button that said, “The Magic Is Back!” At least fifty press photographers crowded onto the floor while the players were introduced. Normally only the starters were introduced, and Magic Johnson was going to be on the bench when the game began. But he was nevertheless included in the introductions. At the mention of his name, the arena rocked with a standing ovation. Flashbulbs went off like popcorn. Magic Johnson was like a returning god to the crowd that night.

Meanwhile the other players who had carried the team for three months and who were totally ignored, were seething with jealousy, resentment, anger, and envy. They were so resentful that they barely won the game that night against a bottom-of-the-bucket team, and eventually the morale of the entire team collapsed. The players turned on each other. The coach was fired. And they eventually lost their opening game of the play-offs, having one of the most disastrous records ever.

Riley said, “Because of greed, pettiness, and resentment, we executed one of the greatest falls from grace in NBA history. It was the Disease of Me.”

We find ourselves in a world in which this type of story is no longer the exception it has become the norm. If you noticed, this was 30 years ago. Think about how things have continued to move in this direction over the past 3 decades. Far too many folks worship not the Blessed Trinity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, but the existentialist trinity of me, myself, and I.

C. S. Lewis speaks of pride in the following manner in Mere Christianity:

There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians, ever imagine that they are guilty themselves. I have heard people admit that they are bad-tempered, or that they cannot keep their head about girls or drink, or event that they are cowards. I do not think I have ever heard anyone who was not a Christian accuse himself of this vice. And at the same time I have very seldom met anyone, who was not a Christian who showed the slightest mercy to it in others. There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we have it in ourselves the more we dislike it in others.

Pride can be called root of all sins. It has been defined as the excessive love of one’s own excellence. The Prophet Isaiah declares, “Woe to them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight.” The Book of Judges concludes with the condition of the people of Israel who were mired in their own pridefulness, “In those days there was no king in Israel: every man did that which was right in his own eyes.”

If there is one person alone who could remotely exhibit any sense of pride it would be God alone. After all, he is fully complete in His own essence. He could most certainly exult in His own magnificence, and yet, He is the very one who humbled himself to depths that we can only contemplate. He was humble enough to come to Earth in the most frail of forms, as a baby, and his first night was spent not in a King’s palace, but in a feeding trough for the animals. As we say in the Te Deum, “When thou tookest upon thee to deliver man: thou didst not abhor the Virgin’s womb.” St. Paul declares in the Epistle to the Philippians, “And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.”

Pride is what eats away at us, and humility is the virtue that we must be called upon to cultivate. It is perhaps the hardest of virtues to attain because it is the counter to the worst vice, and yet, there are many who have done so. How difficult it is for us to not receive the accolades, to bow to someone else, to faithfully play second fiddle. Most conductors will say that is the most difficult instrument to play in an orchestra. Yet, it carries with it a most important role. As we heard in the lessons from Advent, John the Baptist was the greatest to ever fulfill that role.

British pastor George Duncan summarizes this so well when he says:

“Think for a moment how often we come across those whose worth is seldom recognized buy men, but I am sure will never be overlooked by God, and will certainly not go unrewarded. Many are prepared to recognize the prominent part played by Simon Peter among the disciples, but forget that if there had not been an Andrew who ‘brought him to Jesus’ there would never have been a Peter! The church universal give thanks to God for Paul, the greatest Christian who ever lived, but forget that if there had not been a Barnabas there might never have been a Paul!” Duncan goes on to ask his readers how many of them recognize the name of Albert McMakin. But Albert was the young man who invited and took sixteen-year-old Billy Graham to the evangelistic services in which he accepted Christ as his Savior. “So before there could be a Billy there had to be an Albert."

The question that remains is are we willing to be the person that God calls us to be even if it means assuming the most humble of postures? Let our prayer be that God might quench in us insidious vice of pride, and instill within the glorious virtue of humility.

2011-01-16T17:50:00.001-05:00

Sermon for the Second Sunday after the Epiphany
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
January 16, 2011

As many of you know in the Book of Ezekiel and in the Revelation to St. John, there are visions of the four creatures who have come to symbolize the four evangelists – a man, a lion, a bull, and an eagle. I listed those names in the canonical order of the Gospels, and thus the second one listed, the lion, has come to symbolize St. Mark. It is quite fitting that he would have the figure of a lion to personify his Gospel because much like a lion, the Jesus that Mark portrays pounces onto the scene unannounced. Over and over again Mark links scenes together with one word, immediately, and thus the stories bound from one situation to the next. The action moves from place to place quickly, and Jesus never seems to stay still for very long.

Mark’s Jesus, like a lion, simply appears out of nowhere and he begins. There is a feature about the Jesus we hear from Mark’s perspective that is also lion-like that many commentators have referred to as the Messianic Secret. Jesus’ identity is somewhat hidden to those around him, and only those with eyes to see and ears to hear see its disclosure. The king of beasts is also secretive and hidden as he moves about, but the wise are attune to his movements, and are not caught unawares.

We heard just a few moments ago the first eleven verses of Mark’s Gospel. It starts off in a rapid fire fashion with those simple words, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” There is no birth narrative as in Matthew and Luke that we heard over the past few weeks at Christmas. Rather, it begins with a simple declarative statement. As we ultimately know, this is no simple statement.

Following that opening line, we hear a quotation, which actually isn’t all from Isaiah, but is a combination of quotations from the prophets Micah and Isaiah, and a link back to the book of Exodus. We hear that there is a messenger who will prepare the way for the Good News of Jesus, and our discipleship will involve preparation and correction.

A messenger goes forth into the desert, into the wilderness, to announce that the path that is required of the one that is to come must be straight. It is a path that must have the crooked places smoothed out; the twists and turns must straightened out. God created everything in an orderly fashion, and the sin that entered the world through Adam and Eve introduced disorder. That which was once straight has become crooked. God walked with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and walked upon the straight paths that He made. After the Fall, God could not walk with them the same way He had done before, because the straight paths had lost their straight character. Now we hear John the Baptist quoting the Old Testament prophets and telling them that the paths need to be made straight. He says that to them because God has come again to walk and dwell among His creation. The only way that God can walk with His creatures is if there is a straight path for him to travel upon.

The way that we might make those paths straight comes at the end of the passage we just heard. It comes through the water of Baptism.

“And it came to pass in those days, that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee, and was baptized of John in the Jordan.” You can see Mark’s brevity again with his somewhat terse treatment of this most significant event. Lost is the scathing accusation against the Pharisees and Sadducees where John asks them who sent them a warning that they must flee from the wrath to come. Mark does not give us the beautiful exchange between Jesus and John where the Baptist questions Jesus’ intention to be baptized by him, and Jesus declares that it is not just fitting for it to happen that way, but it is in order to fulfill all righteousness as St. Matthew declares.

All that is recorded here is that Jesus was from Nazareth in Galilee and he’s now come to John to be baptized by him in the Jordan River. What happens next is of course the key to the entire story.

When Jesus is coming out of the water it says that the “ he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit, like a dove, descended upon him.” For Mark’s brevity in telling a story, there are occasions in which he’s telling more of the story than meets the eye. This is one of those occasions when we study one of the specific words in the original Greek.

At first glance there is nothing significant about the word that describes what happens to the heavens. The significance comes in the fact that Mark actually uses a different word than Matthew and Luke. Mark uses the word skidzo, which literally means rip, or rend, or tear open. We get our English word schism from that word, which is a tear in the body of believers in an ecclesiastical sense. I don’t think that Mark’s change of verbs here is significant just because it is different from the other two Evangelists. I think its significant because of the other time the word appears in the Gospels. Mark has a habit of bookending things in his Gospel and he’s done so again.

When Jesus commended his Spirit into the hands of the Father, Matthew, Mark, and Luke all record that at the time of Jesus’ death the veil of the temple was rent in two from the top to the bottom. The same word here, skidzo, is used to describe what happened to the veil. The very heavens were rent open when our Lord was baptized, and the veil that separated God from man in the Temple was rent apart at our Lord’s death.

This is so significant because the avenue by which the paths that have become crooked by our sin have the ability to be made straight through the water of baptism, and through the accessibility of our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. All of the barriers to the Divine have been removed, and we have direct access to the Father, by the work of the Son, through the power of the Holy Spirit.

It is also critical to notice the sequence of events. The Spirit of God is not made manifest in the form of a dove until our Lord comes through the Baptismal waters of the Jordan. If Jesus is not baptized, the Spirit does not come. Part of Jesus’ fulfillment of all righteousness is accepting the baptism of John, so that he might bear the weight of original sin upon Himself, and carry it to the cross for our redemption. For us, the critical part of Jesus’ baptism is so that we might be able to receive the coming of the Holy Spirit.

It was not until the Day of Pentecost that the Apostles received the Holy Ghost in full measure when He appeared as tongues of fire above their heads. The comforter manifested himself in a much stronger fashion as an indicator of what they and we are called to do.

As we proclaim in the Creed, the Holy Ghost is the Lord and Giver of Life. It was God’s spirit that was given to Adam that was breathed in him and gave him life. That Spirit was made manifest in the form of a dove when it appeared over Jesus at his baptism. It was a dove that brought the branch of an olive tree back to Noah to indicate that life had returned to the earth following the flood. It was in the form of fire that the Spirit appeared to the Apostles at Pentecost.

Mark’s Jesus, the Lion of Judah, has burst upon the scene, and God comforts us with those words that he spoke from the heavens, “Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” Through our baptism, we receive the cleansing that regenerates us and brings us into a new life of grace that we share with Jesus.

Through the flames of fire of God’s Holy Spirit, we receive the seven-fold gifts to then live out that new life of grace through the laying on the bishop’s hands in the Sacrament of Confirmation. We are reunited in one communion and fellowship again as we prepare to receive our Lord’ Body and Blood in the Sacrament. We come to begin anew; our Gospel opened with the words, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” May we receive this gospel anew each and every day of our lives so that we might joyfully proclaim those wonderful words again, and again, and again.

2011-01-16T17:49:00.000-05:00

Sermon for the First Sunday after the Epiphany
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
January 9, 2011

“And when she saw Gabriel, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be.”
“Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”
“But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.”
“But his mother kept all these sayings in her heart.”

In the first two chapters of the Gospel according to St. Luke we encounter these responses from Blessed Mary or statements about her. There is a depth of character that is worthy of our study, admiration, and adoration. Twice in the second chapter of Luke does the Evangelist declare that she pondered things in her heart. The first was on that first Christmas night when the shepherds came and found the Holy Family after Jesus’ birth and relayed to them the words of the angels and seeing the heavenly army declaring the mighty works of God, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward men.” The second instance was in this morning’s reading when we encounter Jesus at age 12 and the familiar encounter with the doctors and religious authorities in the Temple. Mary took what she had heard thus far in her son’s short life and pondered and kept them in her heart.
What an amazing journey thus far. Think about it, she has an awe full lot to ponder:
The Annunciation where the Angel Gabriel appears to her and declares the wondrous work that God is preparing to work in her life. She visits her cousin Elizabeth who has also miraculously conceived a child, and the first words from her mouth are what we know as the Hail Mary. She declares that the child in her womb lept for joy because he has come into the presence of the Divine. Mary then praises God in the hymn we offer each night in Evening Prayer, the Magnificat. Her husband Joseph is visited in dream in which he is told to not fear in taking Mary as his wife that what has happened to her is of Divine mandate. They leave Nazareth as she is about to give birth and travel to Joseph’s ancestral home of Bethlehem where she gives birth to a son. The Family is visited by shepherds who testify to the wondrous signs they saw in the heavens as they are tending their flocks. They fulfill their Jewish mandate to offer a sacrifice in thanksgiving for the birth of Jesus and as they are there an old man named Simeon and an old woman named Anna come up to them declaring that they were finally receiving the gift that had been promised to them that they might see the salvation of God. Simeon blesses Mary, but then tells her that a sword will pierce her own soul, and that her child was, “set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against;…that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” Finally, as we come to this morning’s Gospel Jesus tells his mother that she and Joseph should have naturally come looking for Jesus in the Temple because it should have been obvious that He would have been about His Father’s business. Yes, indeed, I believe that Mary had a great deal to ponder in her heart.

I am going to shift gears just a bit, but I see a very pertinent link between Mary’s holding those glorious events in her heart, and the words of our collect appointed for today. For in looking at the collect of the day I was intrigued by two instances of repetition.
The first occurs in regards to how we APPROACH something. We ask God to help us perceive and know the things we ought to do. That caught me as quite interesting. Is there a difference in perceiving and knowing?

My first inclination was to check out a couple of dictionaries and see if this led me to any conclusions. A few that I consulted defined the word perceive the way I had always thought of, but there was something that my definition seemed to leave out. Almost all of the definitions made note of the fact that part of perception deals with the use of the senses, especially sight and hearing.
But I was still curious what the senses had to do with it, and why the collect prays for both perception and knowledge.
When I looked up the word know, the American Heritage Dictionary had a very telling definition. KNOW – to perceive directly; grasp in the mind with clarity or certainty; to regard as true beyond doubt. To know is to take perception to the next level, and recognize what we are to do beyond a shadow of a doubt.
This collect, which dates back to the Gregorian Canon in the seventh century AD, wants us to recognize that there is a difference in perceiving, and knowing.

This collect suggests movement and maturity in our Christian journey. This prayer is one that asks us to know with every fiber of our being what the will of God is for our lives.

When we find ourselves in situations that require an ethical and moral decision, we have asked God to allow us to know in our heart, and to heighten our senses those things that we ought to do. It is supposed to tingle in the pit of our stomachs, make the hair on our arms, and back of our neck stand up. We need to have our senses awakened and enlightened for what lies ahead, so that we can recognize the situation for what it is, and make sure that we act in a manner that is right in God’s eyes.

The collect then continues toward action.

We call upon the Almighty that we might possess the grace and power to do what is right. Now I’ve reached another doublet of repetition.

What’s the difference between the grace to do something, and the power to do it? First, I recognize that the grace to do the will of God is an attempt on our part to mirror what God has already done for us. One definition of grace is unmerited benevolence.
As we read in Holy Scripture, as we hear in our liturgy, as has been preached in this pulpit, our salvation comes to us through no work of our own, but rather through the unmerited goodness of our Heavenly Father, through the redeeming work of His Son.

Our response to that grace that unmerited benevolence, is our actions in return. This is not justification by works. Rather, it is our way of giving thanks back to God for His gift in our lives. It is an offering back to him, and it does not seek to justify anything.

Our prayer also asks for the power to do what is right. It seems like such an unnecessary request after we have prayed for the grace to do God’s will. However, on this side of the eschaton, we never escape the temptation of Satan in our lives.
Throughout the Gospels, there are instances where Satan appears in different forms to tempt Jesus. The most notable are the temptation narratives and in the Garden of Gethsemane. The temptations that we read about are attempts to derail Jesus’ mission of redeeming the world, and overcoming the power of death forever. In each instance, Jesus possesses the power to resist temptation and remain on the course that the Father has set for him to follow.

Through the power of the Holy Ghost we have the source of power within us to resist temptation, and fulfill those things, which God asks of us.

2011-01-01T22:12:00.001-05:00

Sermon for the Second Sunday after Christmas
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
January 2, 2011

I heard a story once of a priest who at Christmas did something quite out of the ordinary. However, at second thought, it actually made a great deal of sense.

He was a faithful priest who wanted to make sure that everything was just right for the family service and the church was decorated magnificently. The children’s pageant went off without a hitch, the families who greeted him after the service commented about how glorious it was, and that they were truly blessed by what they had seen and heard that evening. As he was making his way back to the sacristy to finish up final details for the midnight service he noticed one lady standing over the crèche and she did not have a pleasant expression on her face. She was looking at the figures that she had been accustomed to seeing each year, and motioned for him to come over to her. Her first words to him were, “did you do this?” As a priest, I can safely say those are not words I hope I ever have to hear!

When he asked her what she meant, she pulled back the little cloth covering the manger and instead of seeing the innocent baby Jesus lying in the manger, there was a crucifix lying in its place. The priest looked at her and asked what the problem was. She told him that she could not imagine who could play such a mean trick on her and others. Christmas is all about celebrating the birth of the baby Jesus and that what was done absolutely destroyed the beauty of that day. The priest simply asked the woman, “What did that baby Jesus come to earth to do? Did he come to earth to remain in a manger, or did he come knowing that Good Friday and Easter awaited him?” The woman stood in silence. She really didn’t know what to say. The only thing she could say in response was that she had always been caught up in the event of Christmas that she had never really thought of it that way before. I believe the priest proved his point.

I have no idea if that is a true story, but like many myths, whether it is historical or not doesn’t matter, the underlying truth still remains.

There is the ever present danger to craft or imagine a Jesus who suits our particular fancy. There is the temptation to live in a nostalgic world in which Jesus came only to teach us how to live, or simply be a moral compass to follow, or just be one path among many to lead us to God.

There’s a major problem with this line of thinking – it is not Biblical, it is not Christian.

I don’t know how many of you have already seen Christmas trees at the curb ready for the garbage men to pick them up. I’m sure there are plenty who take the tree out with the wrapping paper from Christmas morning. What is Christmas about anyway if not about Christ? If that isn’t our central focus, we’ve missed the point.

After all, in society Merry Christmas has been replaced with Season’s Greetings and Happy Holidays. God forbid people take offense at receiving the greeting for which this holiday is named. We no longer gauge this time of year in terms of Biblical virtues, but how often the cash registers rung up sales. We speak far less about the beauty of the worship that we experience at this time of year and far more about what is on our wish list from Santa. Few people know the real story of the Bishop of Myra, St. Nicholas, from which Santa Claus derives his name. It’s so unfortunate that we have to be the ones who must attempt to put the Christ back into Christmas. Unfortunately, when Jesus is recast into an idol that is somehow removed from the orthodox teaching of the Incarnation, the Atonement, and salvation history, then it’s no wonder that the Christ of Christmas is often nowhere to be found.

Jesus came to earth with his final destination clearly in front of him. The Evangelist St. John paints a picture of Jesus who knows where he has come from, what he has come to earth to accomplish, and where his ultimate destination lies. He came to earth to teach us that good tries aren’t the answer, but that we need to be re-born.

When the Pharisee Nicodemus came to meet with Jesus he was conflicted because it was clear that he knew in his heart that Jesus was on to something here, but there was a piece in his mind that was missing. He rightly affirms that the very signs and wonders that Jesus was doing couldn’t possibly be done unless it was through the power of God. I believe that Nicodemus thought Jesus was in fact the Messiah, the one that they had been waiting for, but didn’t realize what his Messiahship would entail. He is told that in order for him to hail him as King and see the Kingdom of Heaven it would require rebirth – something he clearly didn’t understand at all. This would mean that a totally new life would be required for us to live as his disciples.

The Rev. Dr. Paul Zahl who used to be the Dean of the Cathedral of the Advent in Birmingham once said that Jesus didn’t come to substitute for our actions, he came to substitute for our DNA. We are broken at our very core, and we need someone who knows how to perform the only type of operation that will bring healing to our fatal condition. I’ve heard it said that when our Lord speaks of the nature of sin in our lives, He does so speaking in malignant terms. Since most of us have in some way been affected by cancer either personally, in our family, or with close friends we know that untreated the results are fatal. The only sources of treatment are either surgery to remove the tumor or high powered medications which actually destroy some good in order to ultimately kill the bad.

Jesus is the great physician who has come to perform the surgery, and administer the healing medication that our cancerous souls truly need. Of course there’s always the option of rejecting treatment, but we know that will lead to sure and certain death.

I’m sure there are plenty of folks who have made New Year’s resolutions that they sincerely hope they will be able to keep much longer than last year. Those well intentioned thoughts that we will eat better, exercise more, be nicer to others, or some other very worthy ideal this coming year. In my opinion, the only New Year’s resolution worth making is one in which we fervently ask Almighty God change us into something that by our very nature we are unable to become. The Apostle Paul knew this all too well.

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.
(Romans 7:15-20 ESV)

This isn’t simply a New Year’s resolution it’s an everyday resolution. Each and every day of our lives we must remember that we are going to do the very things we don’t want to do and we are not going to do the very things we wish we would do. The greatest comfort we have is that we have a Saviour who bore our failures upon his able shoulders and took them to the cross. We admit this reality each time in the liturgy where we plead with God not to weigh our merits as if we’ve earned some special status, but that he might pardon our far too numerous offenses.

If we start from a posture such as this it should drive us to a desire to worship, and shape our prayer lives in such a manner that the Holy Spirit might begin to work anew in our hearts to help conform us into the very creatures that God intends for us to be. As we prayed in our collect, “ALMIGHTY God, who hast poured upon us the new light of thine incarnate Word; Grant that the same light enkindled in our hearts may shine forth in our lives.”

As St. John declares in his first Epistle, “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.”

May we all in this new year seek God’s guidance and grace as we strive to walk in the light, and allow the Light that was the Light of all men to shine in our hearts that we might show to all men the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ our Lord.

2010-12-28T22:05:00.001-05:00

Sermon for Christmas Day
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
December 25, 2010

I must admit that until earlier this week, I had never heard of Francis P. Church. Francis Pharcellus Church was a publisher and editor who died just over 100 years ago. I’m sure he would have passed into obscurity as a newspaper editor were it not for an editorial he wrote to a young girl on September 21, 1897. Virginia O’Hanlon wrote to the New York Sun the following question to the editor, “Dear Editor: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so. Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?” Not only did Francis Church take time to write little Virginia back, he did so with a depth and compassion that one would wish for and long for today. For those who have never heard this, here is how Mr. Church responded.

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Certainly this letter was written to address a terribly important question in the mind of an eight year old little girl. For us though there is the even more crucial question for all mankind to answer: Is Jesus real, and is he who he claims to be? There are too many points of comparison between this letter and how we might answer that question if it were asked of us as His disciples?

However, one in particular stands out right from the beginning that is worth pondering. I believe that Mr. Church hit on something over 100 years ago that is even more rampant than I’m sure he could have ever imagined when he first penned those words. He told little Virginia that those who doubt the existence of Santa Claus, “have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age.” I think it quite plausible that Mr. Church comes from the same school as G. K. Chesterton who said:

“…But the new rebel is a Sceptic, and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore he can never be really a revolutionist. And the fact that he doubts everything really gets in his way when he wants to denounce anything. For all denunciation implies a moral doctrine of some kind; and the modern revolutionist doubts not only the institution he denounces, but the doctrine by which he denounces it.
Thus he writes one book complaining that imperial oppression insults the purity of women, and then he writes another book (about the sex problem) in which he insults it himself. He curses the Sultan because Christian girls lose their virginity, and then curses Mrs. Grundy because they keep it. As a politician, he will cry out that war is a waste of life, and then, as a philosopher, that all life is waste of time.
A Russian pessimist will denounce a policeman for killing a peasant, and then prove by the highest philosophical principles that the peasant ought to have killed himself. A man denounces marriage as a lie, and then denounces aristocratic profligates for treating it as a lie. He calls a flag a bauble, and then blames the oppressors of Poland or Ireland because they take away that bauble. The man of this school goes first to a political meeting, where he complains that savages are treated as if they were beasts; then he takes his hat and umbrella and goes on to a scientific meeting, where he proves that they practically are beasts. In short, the modern revolutionist, being an infinite sceptic, is always engaged in undermining his own mines. In his book on politics he attacks men for trampling on morality; in his book on ethics he attacks morality for trampling on men. Therefore the modern man in revolt has become practically useless for all purposes of revolt. By rebelling against everything he has lost his right to rebel against anything…”

So here we are on Christmas morn to celebrate once again the birth of the Messiah, the Incarnation of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. We’re doing so in an even more skeptical world than either Mr. Church or Mr. Chesterton saw in their day over a century ago. And yet, the person of Jesus is the true answer to the skeptics of that age, our age, and the age to come. He has answered every skeptic in every age, and will continue to do so, the issue at hand for the believer is will we prepare a place for Him to rule as our Lord, heal those places marred with sin, and continue to make us holy as He Himself is Holy? That is our story, and what we celebrate again this day.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. However, more important than that Virginia, there is a Saviour born this day who is Christ the Lord. He lives, and He lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay ten times ten thousand years from now, Jesus will continue to make glad the heart of men if we but welcome Him in, and prepare a place for Him in our hears to rule for all eternity.

Merry Christmas, and Thanks be to God!

2010-12-24T16:58:00.000-05:00

Sermon for Christmas Eve
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
December 24, 2010

There is a wonderful component regarding the season of Christmas that somehow transcends most others. I’m not talking about Santa Claus or the giving and receiving of gifts. It doesn’t really have to do with Christmas trees nor does it pertain to the delectable treats that usually appear during this particular time of year. There’s something magical, something special about the notion of home, or being at home, or going home at Christmas.

We’ve all heard the traditional rendering of the popular song made famous by Bing Crosby, I’ll Be Home for Christmas. Perry Como sang the wonderful tune (There’s No Place Like) Home for the Holidays in the 1950’s. For so many people, there’s something about the memories of home and Christmas that seem to go hand-in-hand. For those who are returning to Moultrie this time of year, and grew up here, and in this church, there are perhaps some grand traditions and comforts in returning to the parish of your youth and seeing the church decorated as you remember it for this service. You perhaps look forward to singing Silent Night at the close of tonight’s liturgy, just as it’s always been done. You can probably call to mind the sights and smells of Mom and Dad’s house that I hope conjure up wonderful memories from childhood.

I don’t mean to sound sappy, or sentimental, or maudlin here, but I hope to make a link between our longing for home, and its importance for this night.

We come again to the celebration of the Incarnation and Nativity of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. We hear again the traditional reading from Luke Chapter 2 that seems to tell the story that we all anticipate hearing. However, let’s look again at what we just heard.

First of all, Joseph and Mary his betrothed, are forced to leave their home by order of the Emperor Augustus. This man is so self-inflated that he wants to know how many people he actually rules over. Literally, he wants to know the population of the entire world, the home he has built for himself. So, Joseph and Mary set off toward Bethlehem, the ancestral home of his forefather David. We have no idea if they know anyone there. Do they have any distant relatives who might welcome them in, give them lodging, and show them some hospitality as they venture into an unknown future?

As we know from our story there is no room for them. No one will take in a stranger from Nazareth and his very pregnant spouse. They are without a home. There are no familiar sights or sounds around them to welcome their firstborn child into this world. It is most likely that Mary gave birth in some cave out behind the city, and we really have no idea if anyone was there other than Joseph and God. And yet, this is what we celebrate this night – the birth of a child, born miles away from home.

It’s easy to think about what Joseph and Mary gave up in order to follow the Angel’s message and continue on this dangerous journey, and the command of the secular authorities to travel to Bethlehem. We can somewhat picture what they laid aside to carry out God’s will. We’ve had to do some of the same things in our own lives. We’ve perhaps left a job and ventured off into unknown territory ourselves. Many have sent children off to college or seen them get married and wondered how things were going to work out. I know for some it’s been a question of how to make ends meet. We may not be able to comprehend the depth and profundity of what they forsook, but there is the human element that we can at least relate to.

What did Jesus give up?

Jesus gave up a home that we can only attempt to comprehend and long for. The Creator became a part of the very creation that He spoke into existence, and lived, breathed, and died as one of us. He gave up Heaven so that one day we might experience it for all eternity, in His glorious and wonderful presence.

Yes, it’s most certainly good to be home for the holidays. It’s great to be with family and friends at this time of year. As we gather together this evening, to celebrate our Lord’s Incarnation and Nativity, as some of us have come home for the holidays, let us remember the home that our Lord left in order to redeem mankind, and the home that awaits us. Our Lord said in John’s Gospel, “Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.” This is what our Lord left, in order that we might one day share it again with him.

In talking with one of my seminary classmates about my sermon idea for tonight, Fr. Rhoades, who many of you met at my institution as rector, suggested the following lyrics as possibly being applicable for this theme of Jesus leaving his home out of love for us. The group DOWNHERE wrote a song in 2007 entitled How Many Kings that I believe summarizes the point I’ve feebly attempted to make, and speaks quite clearly about this night. Here are their words:

Follow the star to a place unexpected
Would you believe after all we’ve projected
A child in a manger
Lowly and small, the weakest of all
Unlikeliest hero, wrapped in his mothers shawl
Just a child
Is this who we’ve waited for?

Cause how many kings, stepped down from their thrones?
How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?
How many Gods have poured out their hearts
To romance a world that has torn all apart?
How many fathers gave up their sons for me?

Bringing our gifts for the newborn savior
All that we have whether costly or meek
Because we believe
Gold for his honor and frankincense for his pleasure
And myrrh for the cross he’ll suffer
Do you believe, is this who we’ve waited for?
It’s who we’ve waited for

How many kings, stepped down from their thrones?
How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?
How many Gods have poured out their hearts
To romance a world that has torn all apart?
How many fathers gave up their sons for me?
Only one did that for me

All for me
All for you
All for me
All for you

Only one King, one Lord, one Great, one God gave it all away in order for us to have it all, and to have it abundantly. Jesus Christ, the babe King did it all out of love, and He bids us to repeat His actions in the world. Let us with a glad and joyful heart receive Him once again, so that He might have a home to rule as our King, our Lord, and our God.

Merry Christmas, Gloria in Excelsis Deo, and welcome home!

2010-12-24T16:57:00.000-05:00

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Advent
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
December 18, 2010

In less than a week the purple that we’ve become somewhat accustomed to over these past few weeks will be replaced with the white and gold of Christmas. The purple bows on the wreathes on our doors will be replaced with red ones, and our sanctuary will be adorned with the beautiful reds and greens of the poinsettias, and we will close our Christmas Eve service with the traditional singing of Silent Night in nothing but candlelight to anchor that theme from St. John, “and the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.”

This season of Advent is intended to help us remember that we are to be intentional about our waiting and expectation for what we will celebrate at the end of the week. We are to take the time to be still. We are not to be still and simply fall asleep, but to stay awake, to be ready, to have our lamps lit with a supply of oil in reserve, and wait.

What are we waiting for? What are we longing for? Have we done the very thing that the season has been calling us to do?

If you are anything like me, you’ve most likely gone through some of the motions, making sure that all of the details are in order for entertaining guests, or welcoming home children and grandchildren, or making sure that all of the requisite presents have been purchased, that the intentionality of the season has somehow slipped by. We’ll get to the week following Christmas, look back, and ask ourselves the yearly question, where did the time go?

At this time of year I’ll bet we’re all much more Martha than Mary than we’d like to admit. If I would suggest any shift in the lectionary it would be to hear the Martha and Mary story as a precursor to the Christmas season so that we might hear again those words of our Lord, “Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

We sang the traditional hymn of Advent a few minutes ago, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. Emmanuel is the Hebrew word that literally means God with us. I love the fact that this hymn incorporates the words come with Emmanuel. If you think about it, it almost seems like an oxymoron of terms. If God is with us, he doesn’t actually need to come any more. We always talk about hot water heaters, but if you think about it, if the water is already hot, why does it need to be heated? Sorry, previous life digression!

Seriously though, if we are asking for God to come, why use the word that means God is with us?

Perhaps we need to think again about what it means for God to be with us. We know intellectually that God is always with us. He’s with us in the good times and in the bad. He’s always ready to hear our prayers, and like the loving father in the parable of the Two Lost Sons, he’s waiting to run out to greet us while we are still a great distance away. On the Twelfth Sunday after Trinity we pray, “Almighty and everlasting God, who art always more ready to hear than we to pray, and art wont to give more than either we desire or deserve.” Emmanuel is with us, but if we are going to bid him come again, we need to know what we are asking for.

In last Sunday’s edition of The Parish Paper, Fr. Dunbar makes a splendid point regarding what are to expect, what we long for, and the necessity to examine the posture of our heart to await the coming of Emmanuel.

It is no doubt comforting to think that God is there any time we might need him – a well-trained God who does not speak unless he is spoken to, and concierge God who stands ready to answer our call. But that is not the comfort that we have in Christ. Christ does not remain at a polite and safe distance from us, somewhere up in heaven, or in the past, or in Galilee. He does not hover politely in the background in case we want him…. He does not wait upon us to invite him in; no, he comes to us, he invades our space and time, and when he comes, he presents himself as Messiah, and with the authority of the Lord he marches into the Temple, takes charge, and starts cleaning house.

The question therefore is not whether or if he is going to come or not: he is coming. Nor is even the question when he is coming – for he is even now on his way. With every passing moment the hour of his advent draws ineluctably closer: “now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.” The only question is whether we are ready to receive him, and to hail him as the multitudes did: “Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord: hosanna in the highest.”

As I mentioned last Sunday morning, one of the themes of our Advent lessons is that they seemingly pass quite simply through Christmas, and don’t stop until they approach eternity. We must remember that the first Advent that we proclaim each year and the final Advent are joined together in a sacred union. Each day that passes brings us one day closer to our perfect reunification with Almighty God. St. John closes the book of Revelation with the pleading for our Lord Jesus to come quickly so that he and we might enjoy the bliss that awaits those who believe and call upon Jesus’ name.

So, are we ready for what we say we are waiting for? Have we called upon the Holy Spirit to help prepare a place for us to receive our Lord Jesus again? Have we done the difficult work of being a Mary, and sat patiently at the feet of Jesus and allow him to speak to us through His Word, or through listening to him in our prayers, or feeding upon him in the Blessed Sacrament, or in seeing him in the very things that we do in his name? Or has this season of Advent been one of Martha type living in which we’ve been so diligent in making sure everything was just right that we lost focus on why we were doing what we are doing in the first place?

If that is the case, do not despair, for we are a people whose very foundation is built upon hope. Take this remaining week of Advent, yes I know this is the busiest week of all, and do the intentional work of waiting and watching. Spend this week in prayer and fasting as we anticipate the glorious celebration of the first coming of our Lord with the longing that awaits his second Advent. And to quote Fr. Dunbar again in closing:

How shall we make ready for so great a guest – a guest who comes to claim his people as their Lord? In its essence, I think our readiness is a matter of desire: wanting him to come, as Christ and Lord, wanting him with everything you have and everything you are, everything you do and everything that happens to you. “The Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely. Even so, [quickly] come, Lord Jesus.” Let this prayer be the desire of our hearts [this Advent], and the design of our lives.

2010-12-17T13:11:00.001-05:00

Sermon for the Third Sunday in Advent
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
December 12, 2010

One of the themes of Advent is the notion of longing and expectation and one of the central figures of this season is John the Baptist. However, if you think back to the last two Sunday mornings we heard nothing about John the Baptist. The first Sunday of Advent sounds more like Palm Sunday than it does preparation for Christmas with Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem and cleansing of the temple as recorded by St. Matthew. Last Sunday we heard an apocalyptic account from St. Luke regarding signs and wonders, fig trees and the like. So much for longing and expectation – well, not really. If you think carefully about Advent, you’ll remember that Advent isn’t just the first coming of the Messiah. We can’t properly think about the Incarnation if we don’t begin with the end in mind.

God’s plan for the salvation of mankind doesn’t simply stop at Christmas, or Easter, or Ascension, or Pentecost. It continues in a trajectory straight toward the Second Coming of our Lord and the final culmination in the establishment of the Kingdom of God for all eternity.

So, our lessons for Advent begin with the end in mind. They are of a more apocalyptic nature, and this morning and next Sunday the focus becomes more narrowed as we start to hear from John the Baptist and the nature of our Lord’s first coming. Even though we are moving our focus toward the manger, the second Advent is always looming in the background. Our collect reinforces that very fact when it holds the first and second comings in tandem with one another.

There is one overarching theme that I wish to focus on this morning as we look at the words of Jesus regarding his cousin John.

Our lesson opens with John at the end of his ministry and quickly approaching the end of his life, and he sends word to Jesus through some of his disciples, inquiring of him whether or not He is the Messiah, or is there someone else coming.
What is John’s motivation for asking such a question?
Is he sitting in prison now questioning his life’s work?
Has everything he’s done up to this point off base?
Is he suffering now because I was chasing after the wrong things?

Those are terribly relevant questions, and I dare say, ones we might ask ourselves.

Am I supposed to face this type of opposition in the proclamation of the Gospel?
Have I been doing or am I still doing God’s will in my life?

John is seeking affirmation and don’t we desire the exact same thing? The last thing any of us would ever want to do is travel down a lonely path only to realize that we took a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

In turn Jesus doesn’t simply send them away with a yes answer. Instead he tells them to open their eyes, open their ears, and observe what Jesus has been doing up to this point. He tells them that the blind have received their sight; the lame are now able to walk; the lepers are free from their horrible disease; the deaf are able to hear; the dead are now alive again; the poor have the Gospel preached to them.

We come again to a question that reappears throughout the Gospels – why does Jesus do it this way? Why didn’t he just say yes and go about his business?

I believe it’s because he wanted them to know it, accept it, and believe it for themselves. He wanted them to search their hearts, and what they’ve heard all their life in the Scriptures that Jesus is the fulfillment of the explicit prophesies of Isaiah, but implicitly throughout the Old Testament.

Isaiah 26:19 says, “But your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise; awake and sing, you who lie in the dust.”
Isaiah 29:18-19 says, “On that day the deaf shall hear the words of a book; And out of gloom and darkness, the eyes of the blind shall see. The lowly will ever find joy in the LORD, and the poor rejoice in the Holy One of Israel.”

Isaiah 35:5-6 says, “Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf be cleared; Then will the lame leap like a stag, then the tongue of the dumb will sing. Streams will burst forth in the desert, and rivers in the steppe.”

Isaiah 61:1-2 says, “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the lowly, to heal the brokenhearted, To proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, To announce a year of favor from the LORD and a day of vindication by our God, to comfort all who mourn;”

In essence, Jesus is telling the disciples of John to receive the same gift of sight that He’s given to the literally blind; to receive the same gift of hearing that He’s given to the literally deaf.

After the disciples of John depart Jesus turns and asks the multitudes three times in succession, what did you go out to John to see? If you went out to hear and see John, what were you doing out there? What were you expecting, what did you want to hear, what did you long to see?

Jesus then answers his own question with two stunning statements: a reed shaken by the wind; a man clothed in soft raiment.

What’s Jesus getting at here?

Think about that first image, a reed shaken by the wind. It’s a lovely sight to behold, but it provides no real support. It almost collapses under the weight of a small bird, and can do nothing more than respond to the winds of change that constantly toss it to and fro. Jesus is asking them if John’s message falls into that same category. Did what he say simply sound like one thing today and another tomorrow? Did it vacillate depending upon which outside force might be acting upon it at the time?

The answer to that question was an unequivocal NO! John preached a very consistent message that those who were coming to him needed to change their way of life, to repent of their sins, and seek a new and amended life. His message was firm and was on solid ground.

Second, John’s message wasn’t like a courtier in a king’s palace who simply said the prudent and politically correct things to say. John wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but wanted to impress upon those who would listen that the Kingdom of God was breaking in amongst them, and that they needed rousing from their slumber. The people needed to know that there was someone else coming, the thong of whose sandal John would not even be able to stoop down and untie. God was coming, and they were going to be able to see Him, speak to Him, and ultimately follow Him.

I mentioned at the beginning that there was an overarching theme to John’s message and it is this – John always pointed beyond himself. It was never about John; it was always about Jesus. He never sought his own glory, honor, or fame. As a matter of fact, he set all of that aside for the job he was called to do from his very conception. If you remember, John’s father was a priest and was offering the appointed sacrifices when the angel appeared to him proclaiming the birth of his son. John was part of the priestly line, and yet, he laid all of the benefits that came from the lineage to do God’s work.

We too are called to that exact same work. Our life as Jesus’ disciples is not to point to ourselves, the good works that we do, how well we think we live our lives, but to the goodness and glory of the Lord we serve and proclaim as Messiah. As I say many times at the offertory, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father, which is in heaven.” As John told his disciples, “He must increase, and I must decrease.” John always knew that his entire purpose in God’s plan of salvation was to serve as the forerunner for the Messiah. He was the one, as we will hear next week, who would be, “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness.”

Jesus then says that John was in fact a prophet, and goes one step further. He declares that he was more than a prophet. He was the one that had to come to prepare the way for God’s salvation to come into the world.

John’s words then should ring true today, “Repent ye, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand. I am the voice crying out in the wilderness; make straight the way of the Lord.”

However, we save the most wonderful of all of John’s recorded words for later in our service when are invited to our Lord’s table, as the bread and wine are elevated before us to adore, and is proclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him that taketh away the sins of the world.”

Let us with joy prepare our hearts to receive Him again, the one who takes away the sin of the world.

2010-12-05T13:38:00.001-05:00

Sermon for Advent II
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
December 5, 2010

We come this morning to one of the more familiar collects in the Prayer Book. It has been affectionately called the “Bible Collect” as it is a parallel to our Epistle lesson that we heard from Paul’s letter to the Romans. I would like to take a closer look at this masterpiece of a prayer, and see how it fits into our appointed lessons in this Season of Advent.

At the outset we notice that there is an affirmation that God is the very source of the writings that we know as Holy Scripture. For we declare that God has caused all Holy Scripture to be written for our learning. There are some schools of thought regarding the Divine Inspiration of Scripture that say that the human component to the books we call the Bible is negligible and should be totally discounted. When they speak of inspiration it was almost as if Moses, or David, or Luke, or Paul were in some sort of trance and served merely as scribes for what was being dictated by God Himself. It was almost as if he was whispering in their ears and they mindlessly wrote down what they heard. In some cases there might have been a component of that. It is plausible and perhaps likely that many of the Biblical writers did hear God in some audible form, and transcribed as best as they were able what He said to them. I don’t subscribe to this form of inspiration, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t believe the Bible is Divinely Inspired because it absolutely is. In the same way that we declare as dogma that Jesus, the Word of God, is 100% human and 100% divine, so too do I believe that the Words of God, the Bible is 100% human and 100% divine.

We are actually handling God’s words, and thus they demand our utmost care, attention, and respect. Not to the extent that we fell unable to engage with them, and wrestle with what they are saying to us. That is the very thing that we are all called to do. Part of the preacher’s job is the handle the texts, and then exposit them. That work is most certainly done with care, attention and respect.

Our first calling is to hear God’s Word. This certainly happens in many ways – when we hear large portions of Scripture read in the context of our Sunday worship, through additional portions being read each day in the recitation of the Daily Office, in our personal or group Bible Study, or silently reciting those passages we memorized as children. We have numerous opportunities to hear the Bible, and we must take advantage of those as often as we are able.

We don’t simply stop at hearing though, this is just the beginning. After hearing we are to mark Scripture. If in hearing that word mark your initial inclination went straight to highlighters, colored pens, or Post-It notes, you’re on the right track even though none of those things had been invented yet. Think about how we use the word mark. We speak of “marking a ballot” or a “marked man” or if we were ever in trouble with our parents “mark my words.” We are calling attention to something for future comparison and see how it measures up.

Our next task is to learn Scripture. This isn’t simply memorization, while that is great, and it’s not just rote knowledge of the stories contained within. I’m sure we all can remember back to our school days when we simply knew something for a test and as soon as we turned our paper or test in to the teacher much of what we studied left us. We didn’t actually learn what we had been called to learn. We simply knew enough to get by, and when that need was gone, so was the knowledge. Learning is so much more because as I’ve heard it said, “learning is forever.” I’ll bet if I were to take a poll there are certain things that you learned in school that have never left you, and you remember them as vividly today as the day you learned them. They entered into you at a depth makes them a part of you, a piece of your very existence. We didn’t simply memorize the alphabet, we learned a language; we didn’t simply memorize multiplication tables, we learned some of the fundamental truths of mathematics; we didn’t simply commit to memory bits and pieces of our Nation’s history, we learned what it was like to be a citizen of a country. I hope you see the difference, and Holy Scripture must be considered in the exact same vein. Memorizing and being able to ace Bible drills isn’t the end of the story.

Learning and the final task of inwardly digesting give us the tools to begin to be able to apply what we have first read and marked. When we inwardly digest something it becomes to fuel for living. When we digest our food our bodies convert it to something that we can then use to perform the everyday activities we must each do. Think about the times you’ve ever had the flu, or been sick and unable to eat and receive nourishment. You become lethargic, incapable to doing much more than lie in bed and simply exist. We were not born to simply lie in bed and exist, we were created to be the outpouring of God’s love to this world. The only way that we can do that is by feeding and being nourished by the accounts of God doing that very thing Himself. How does the old saying go, “You are what you eat.” Jesus said:
I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst….I am that bread of life. Your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead. This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world. (John 6:35, 48-51)

One preacher on this collect made the following statement:
When I eat food and digest it, it becomes a part of me. It provides nourishment and sustains life itself. To "digest" the Bible is to use it as a sustaining "spiritual food" for the soul and the body. Cranmer wrote that "The Bible is a book that is not for mere reading. It is a book for studying so that it can be applied. Otherwise, it is like swallowing food down without chewing and then spitting it back out again.

So why do we do all of this? Why commit to this type of engagement to a book?

The answer comes at the concluding phrase of the collect when two concepts are used in conjunction with one another – blessed hope and everlasting life.

Ours is a world longing, yearning, and not to be trite here “hoping for hope.” We are in the midst of a society that is looking for meaning, reality, truth, hope. The Christian faith is all of that and more. Our lives have meaning because we were created in the image and likeness of God. No other component of creation can claim that. Only man was created in the image and likeness of the Creator Himself. Our lives have meaning because live the opposite poles of a magnet, the positive pole of God and negative pole of man are constantly being attracted to one another. God’s position is fixed and it is only when we reorient ourselves in the wrong direction to we actually repel the attraction that has been there from the very beginning. We have to be oriented correctly in order to receive the fruit of being drawn closer and closer to God.

God is the ultimate reality because everything in creation was a part of His handiwork. That which we see and experience here is just a shade or glimpse at what ultimate reality looks like. All that is good here can only be imagined in its purest and most glorious form.

The very God who created all things became a creature when He came to live as one of us, and as we prepare to celebrate once again in a few weeks. The Incarnate Lord that we await again said to us in the clearest of statements, “I am the Way, I am the Truth, I am the Life.” Truth came to us in the lowliest of forms, and He bids us to come and follow Him.

Finally, we have received hope beyond all hope because we receive the assurance that our lives do not end when we draw our final breath here on earth. Through our Lord Jesus death has been defeated forever, and our death in this life only marks the beginning of our eternal life with our Heavenly Father – that was bought and paid for and then given to us through Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour.

BLESSED Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning; Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace, and ever hold fast, the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

2010-11-29T16:15:00.000-05:00

Sermon for Advent Sunday
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 28, 2010

“Therefore thus saith the Lord GOD, Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation: he that believeth shall not make haste. Judgment also will I lay to the line, and righteousness to the plummet: and the hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, and the waters shall overflow the hiding place.” Isaiah 28:16-17

Most of you know that I am a big fan of Ravi Zacharias. I think he is one of the clearest thinkers and best articulators of the Christian faith today. I remember hearing him relay the following story about his first encounter with postmodernism in a totally unexpected place.

Postmodernism tells us there’s no such thing as truth; no such thing as meaning; no such thing as certainty. I remember lecturing at Ohio State University, one of the largest universities in this country. I was minutes away from beginning my lecture, and my host was driving me past a new building called the Wexner Center for the Performing Arts. He said, “This is America’s first postmodern building.” I was startled for a moment and I said, “What is a postmodern building?” He said, “Well, the architect said that he designed this building with no design in mind. When the architect was asked, ‘Why?’ he said, ‘If life itself is capricious, why should our buildings have any design and any meaning?’ So he has pillars that have no purpose. He has stairways that go nowhere. He has a senseless building built and somebody has paid for it.” I said, “So his argument was that if life has no purpose and design, why should the building have any design?” He said, “That is correct.” I said, “Did he do the same with the foundation?” All of a sudden there was silence. You see, you and I can fool with the infrastructure as much as we would like, but we dare not fool with the foundation because it will call our bluff in a hurry.

The quotation that I began with this morning was from the Prophet Isaiah, and is the alternate Old Testament lesson appointed for this morning. We hear in that passage the familiar imagery of our coming Messiah as a tried, precious, and perfect corner stone or foundation stone. Shouldn’t we expect the One who laid the foundations of the world to have nothing less than a perfect foundation upon which we are to ground and anchor our faith? The author and perfecter of that faith is indeed a most stable rock for us to seek sure footing.

We come again to the beginning of our new church year, and those lessons that bring to our minds thoughts of longing, expectation, and waiting. We know what we are longing and waiting for because we know the rest of the story, but how are preparing to welcome our Lord and Saviour once again? Also, do we remember that a Christian notion of Advent doesn’t simply stop at the Incarnation, but continues all the way through to the end of time and the last judgment?

If we take another look at our Collect and Epistle lesson for this morning, I think we will see that we have so much more to consider.

In our Prayer Book there are two seasons of the church year in which a collect is repeated for more than simply its octave. Advent and Lent are those two occasions. For the next four weeks we will hear the ancient words that framed the opening of our service this morning. We come again asking Almighty God to give to us that wonderful gift of himself, His grace, in order that we may cast away the works of darkness. As we know from the Prophet Isaiah, and as repeated again by St. Matthew, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; and to them which sat in the region and shadow of death light is sprung up.” With the birth of the Messiah, all the people were living in a dark time, and now the light which was the light of men has come into the world. As St. John continues, “But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name.” This is what it means to build our lives upon that stone, that tried stone, that precious corner stone, that sure foundation.

Our Epistle to the Romans echoes that same thought of dark vs. light when St. Paul declares that we are to, “awake out of sleep.” When sleeping we are engulfed in darkness, and we are to rouse from our slumber so that we can keep vigil and watch for what is to come.

What is coming?

Well, for one, the source of our defense against powers of the world, the flesh, and the devil. The armour of light that we are to put on is Jesus himself. St. Paul exhorts us to put on the Lord Jesus, and that is the only way that we can repel the temptations that will inevitably be coming our way.

We are to expect an assault from outside of this world, and that power of darkness will use everything at his disposal to keep us slumbering and sleeping. Our Lord Jesus even bid his disciples on that first Maundy Thursday to stay awake, and pray that they might not fall prey. Our lessons, our hymns, our prayers all convey that notion that the Evil One will constantly bombard us with the temptation to let down our guard. He will attack us the most when are at our weakest, when we are tired and on the verge of sleep.

It seems to happen when we are under pressure in our job, in our marriage, with our children. We lose our patience at the drop of a hat. The least little thing seems to set us off, and we do the opposite of what we are asked to do. We are quick to speak, and slow to listen. We fire off at the handle, and then look back and can’t even remember why. We find ourselves in the midst of great darkness, and there seems to be no light at all. I know this is true because I know it all too well.

This is when we must be more fervent in prayer, and pull that armour back out of the closet from where we put it away the last time we said we didn’t need it any longer; or when we said to ourselves that it didn’t fit too good anymore; or worse, when we said that we didn’t look good in it anymore. For those times when wearing the armour of light was no longer a badge of honour, but a hindrance to our own wishes and desires.

Finally, we must remain awake because there is more that remains beyond this life. As our collect reminds us, the very reason that our Lord Jesus came to visit us in great humility was so that we might be redeemed, and after His judgment rise to the life immortal. Our destiny is not just this life, but eternity with our Triune God.

Unfortunately, the designer of the Wexner Center was dead wrong when he declared that life had no real design and no real meaning, and was simply random and capricious. We serve a God who laid the foundation of the world, and has given us a sure foundation upon which we might place our sure trust and hope. That foundation is tried and precious, and is ours to cling to with all our heart, all our mind, and all our strength. Clinging to that precious cornerstone is the only way that we might have any hope to cast away the works of darkness, and don the armour of light that will protect us from anything the Prince of Darkness might hurl our way.

2010-11-29T16:14:00.000-05:00

Sermon for the Sunday Next Before Advent
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 21, 2010

Earlier this week I posed a question to some fellow priests who preach from the historic Lectionary of the church, and asked them if they knew any reason why we heard this particular Gospel on the final Sunday of the church’s year. I realize that the framers of the Lectionary had to pick something, but I was just curious, why this one? We’ve already heard the account from St. Mark of Jesus’ feeding of the 4,000 earlier in the year, why John’s account of the feeding of the 5,000 as we approach a new year, and our Advent preparation for the coming of the Messiah.

One priest wrote me back and said that he remembered from somewhere back in the deep recesses of his memory someone telling him that this feeding story was quite pertinent as we were preparing to enter a time of fasting and prayer in anticipation of the coming of the Messiah. While we limit the amount of food we partake through a prayerful time of fasting, we might concentrate on the notion that our Lord took a quite limited amount of food, and fed the crowds with more than they could imagine left over. With a very small amount at the beginning, the end result overflowed in abundance. When we approach the discipline of fasting and prayer, we too are able to receive overwhelming benefits from what seems to be a small beginning.

In our Gospel lesson this morning, two particular details strike me as puzzling. One occurs right at the outset when our Lord sees the great company of people following him, and turns to Philip and asks him, “Whence shall we buy bread, that they may eat?” Why Philip? It seems like Peter is usually the one who Jesus singles out for a teaching point, but here he selects Philip. In pondering that question, an interaction came to my mind, and might very well point us in the right direction.

At the beginning of John’s Gospel the following interaction takes place after Jesus calls Andrew and Simon. In the first chapter we hear these words recorded:

The day following Jesus would go forth into Galilee, and findeth Philip, and saith unto him, Follow me. Now Philip was of Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip findeth Nathanael, and saith unto him, We have found him, of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets, did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph. And Nathanael said unto him, Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth? Philip saith unto him, Come and see. Jesus saw Nathanael coming to him, and saith of him, Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile! Nathanael saith unto him, Whence knowest thou me? Jesus answered and said unto him, Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee. Nathanael answered and saith unto him, Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel. Jesus answered and said unto him, Because I said unto thee, I saw thee under the fig tree, believest thou? thou shalt see greater things than these.

Philip was the one who went out and found Nathanael and told him that the One that they had been longing for and waiting for was here. At this point he had seen no miracles, no signs, and had most likely heard no teaching, and yet, he knew that the Messiah had arrived. Most importantly, he didn’t simply bask in that knowledge for he went out and shared that Good News with someone else. He did the very thing that we are called to do as his disciples.

This is my own speculation, but I think that Jesus wanted to see where Philip was now that he had been with Jesus for a while. Did he still exhibit that same sense of certainty about who Jesus was and what He was able to do? Of course, I know without hesitation I would have probably made the same mistake he did, and say the exact same thing if Jesus asked me that question. After all, I still do. We still do. Each and every day we second guess what Jesus wants for us, and it takes yet another miracle to bring us back to a place where we can again let God work in our lives.

The other peculiarity in this passage involves what I think is a curious phrase. For there are a number of instances when reading the Scriptures that a particular sentence, phrase, detail leaves you puzzled, and almost begs the question, “Why did the author include that?” In this morning’s Gospel lesson, I wondered about the phrase, “Now there was much grass in the place.” Most of the time I would probably glance right over something as seemingly insignificant as John’s detail about the terrain. A phrase that appears out of place like noting that it was sunny outside, the flowers smelled nice, or the birds were singing a lovely tune. However, I believe there is more here than meets the eye.

Certainly, I believe that the comment is a description of the area where the miraculous feeding of the 5,000 would take place. John is trying to paint a mental picture that there is in fact enough room for a mass of people to assemble and sit down as the story explains.

However, if we dig a little deeper I believe there is something else behind those brief words. One of the great I AM statements in John’s gospel speaks about Jesus being the Good Shepherd. One of the attributes of Jesus the Good Shepherd is that he leads his sheep out and goes before them leading them as the 23rd Psalm says, “beside the waters of comfort…[to] feed in green pasture[s].” The people who were following Jesus that day were being fed by the words that he spoke to them, and would then be filled physically as well. Of course the physical need for food was merely temporal, but the words that Jesus spoke were true bread and met their spiritual needs, which of course are the things eternal. They were in just the right place to receive this nourishment because the Good Shepherd had led them to a field with much grass. The environment was perfect, and I believe that John is conveying that detail when he mentions that there is much grass in the place.

As we sit here this morning, we too are in a place with much grass. A place where we were led by the Good Shepherd to receive nourishment in the form of Christ’s Body and Blood. Like the feeding of the 5,000, what seems like a woefully insignificant thing, the receiving of a small wafer of bread and a sip of wine is transformed into the most significant thing we can ever do. As St. Paul told the Corinthian church, “For as often as we eat this bread, and drink this cup, we proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

With the most remarkable of twists, and through God’s divine Providence, the Good Shepherd who leads us into green pastures where there is much grass, becomes the true Lamb, which was slain so that we might taste death no more. It is not grass that we are to feed upon, but Christ Himself.

When we gather together to celebrate the Holy Communion, we come to another miraculous feeding. No, we are not seeking to multiply loaves and fishes on the altar. Rather, we pray that God, through the Holy Spirit, might transform the gifts of bread and wine into the spiritual food of the most precious Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. That He might so change that which seems so small, into something that surpasses everything we could ever imagine. That we through faith might worthily receive the greatest gift that has ever been given. And, that as we offer our selves, our souls, and bodies as a reasonable, holy and living sacrifice we seek God’s nourishment that we might be forever changed, and transformed.

Part of our life-long journey is the process of sanctification or being made holy. We bear God’s image and we were created in His likeness. Receiving Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament is a critical component of our sanctification as we strive to live out the last line of the Prayer of Humble Access in which we pray that we may evermore dwell in Christ as He does in us.

Jesus told his disciples as He ascended to the Father that He would be with them always. He made that promise to us as well. Behold there is much grass in this place and the Good Shepherd has led to a pasture where he has promised to be truly present.

2010-11-18T23:00:00.000-05:00

Sermon for the Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 14, 2010

Several weeks ago we heard the story of the nobleman who came to Jesus seeking his help in the healing of his servant, and I spoke about the progression of his faith from birth, through growth, and into maturity as he came to Jesus in faith; he was not really sure what the outworking of that faith might look like in its infancy, but he took Jesus at his word and his faith began to grow, and it reached its culmination with his entire household believing.

This morning we come to a healing miracle found in all three Synoptics that has the wonderful 2nd miracle stuck right in the middle.

We find ourselves near the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee, and a ruler approaches him who says that his daughter is dead. When we compare the accounts from Mark and Luke we find out that the ruler’s name is Jairus, and it is in Matthew’s Gospel that he actually says that his daughter was dead. In the other accounts he simply says that his daughter is near death.

In comparison with the nobleman’s faith from a few weeks ago, we see that Jairus comes with a maturity of faith that borders on remarkable. Even in the midst of his own despair at losing his daughter, he comes to Jesus in faith and in essence says that death is no obstacle to Jesus. He declares with certainty that if Jesus would simply come and lay his hands on his little girl she will live. If you remember the death of Lazarus, both Mary and Martha come to Jesus and say that if he had been there their brother would not have died. Jesus tells Martha that her brother will live again, and she says, yes, I know that he will live again at the resurrection of the dead. They had experienced Jesus’ entire ministry and didn’t exhibit the kind of faith that this ruler of the synagogue exhibits when he says to Jesus that he knows that his daughter will live again.

Jesus agrees to go with Jairus and follows him back to his home. If we thought that the ruler’s faith was incredible let’s take a look at second miracle that is seemingly sandwiched in the middle. We encounter a woman who has suffered with an issue of blood for the past twelve years of her life. It’s important to know here that in those days any issue pertaining to blood would make someone ritually unclean, and could of course jeopardize her ability to be a full member of society. Mark even goes so far as to mention that she had suffered much at the hands of the many physicians that she had seen over the past decade trying to figure out what was wrong. He records that she had spent all that she had and instead of getting any better, she had actually gotten worse.

What a remarkable statement by this woman when she says to herself, “If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole.” She doesn’t need to have Jesus say anything to her; she doesn’t need to have Jesus touch her; all she needs is to reach out and touch him. She doesn’t even have to cling to much, but only the hem or fringe of his garment. There is more to that phrase “I shall be whole” than meets the eye. In looking at the word used here in the Greek there is so much depth to what this woman says. The word that she uses is the same word that deals with being saved and salvation. Instead of just being made whole she is in essence saying that she will be saved. Sure there will be wholeness of body when she is healed physically, but she is going to receive so much more. She is truly going to be saved, and her reaching out and touching Jesus is the only way that is going to happen.

Matthew doesn’t give all of the details as Mark and Luke give regarding Jesus’ recognition that virtue had gone out from him, and Peter’s statement that due to the crowds how could he even know that someone had touched him. However, all three make sure that Jesus’ words to the woman are recorded because how he addresses her is crucial. Jesus speaks to her with a word that is packed with meaning – he calls her daughter. She isn’t just a woman, but by calling her daughter she has been given permission to address her Father. As John says in his prologue, “But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become sons and daughters of God, even to them that believe on his name.”

She most certainly believed on the Lord’s name, and received him and simply reached out to touch him in faith. As someone once said, “She came trembling, she went back triumphing!”

The great Anglican J. C. Ryle says about this daughter’s faith and ours as well, “Let us store up in our minds this history. It may perhaps help us mightily in some hour of need. Our faith may be feeble. Our courage may be small. Our grasp of the Gospel, and its promises, may be weak and trembling. But, after all, the grand question is, do we really trust only in Christ? Do we look to Jesus, and only to Jesus, for pardon and peace? If this be so, it is well. if we may not touch His garment, we can touch His heart. Such faith saves the soul….He that only touches the hem of Christ’s garment shall never perish.”

The encounter with the woman ends almost as abruptly as it begins and Jesus enters the home of Jairus and makes what seems to be a most absurd statement to those mourning the death of the young girl. He tells them that she is not dead but only sleeping. Those who heard him say that laughed him to scorn.

Let’s think back to the Lazarus situation again. Jesus gets word that his good friend Lazarus is ill and he tells them, “The sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.” He delays going back to Bethany, and after two more days he tells his disciples that they are heading to Bethany to waken Lazarus from sleep. Of course the disciples do not understand Jesus’ words, and they ask him why he needs to go and simply wake him from slumber. He then tells them plainly that Lazarus is dead.

As we heard in the Gospel this morning, Jesus tells a group of mourners who clearly know that the life has left a twelve year old girl that she isn’t dead but is simply sleeping. I don’t think we can even comprehend how that would have been received. Coming from my perspective, that is perhaps the most pastorally insensitive sounding comment imaginable. It’s no shock that they laughed him to scorn. Even so, our Lord is in complete control of the situation. The mourners are dismissed, Jesus walks into the young girls room, takes her by the hand and raises her back to life. She is given a new life. She was dead and is now alive again.

We too when we reach out and grab hold of the hem of Jesus’ garment are reaching out to the true source of life. Jesus reaches out his hand to each one of us, dead to our sins, and he lifts us up and breathes new life into us.

Bishop Ryle closes his thoughts on this passage with these words, “This is the kind of truth we never can know too well. The more clearly we see Christ’s power, the more likely we are to realize Gospel peace. Our position may be trying. Our hearts may be weak. The world may be difficult to journey through. Our faith may seem too small to carry us home. But let us take courage, when we think on Jesus, and not be cast down. Greater is He that is for us, than all they that are against us. Our Saviour can raise the dead. Our Saviour is almighty.”

2010-11-18T22:59:00.001-05:00

Sermon for the Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity (All Saints’ Sunday)
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 7, 2010

There are a limited number of times when we would anticipate the celebration of a Feast Day of the church on the Sunday following its actual occurrence on the Kalendar. We usually commemorate or at least acknowledge the Feast of the Epiphany on the first or second Sunday in January even when its actual date on the calendar is January 6. We celebrate the Sunday following Ascension Day since its Feast Day always falls on a Thursday, and unless your church name is the Church of the Ascension, most don’t commemorate the Feast on its actual date. However, we at St. John’s do celebrate and properly recognize Ascension Day as the fortieth day following Easter. Finally, we come to this morning, the other Major Feast in which many churches fully celebrate what we did on Monday night – we come to the Sunday after All Saints’ Day.

We will sing again the great hymn For All the Saints as our recessional hymn this morning, and there are two other peculiarities about privileged feasts such as this one – one that has already happened, and one yet to come. The first came at the beginning of the service when we repeated the Collect for All Saints’ Day before praying the Collect of the Day. The second will come during the Communion service when we will hear again the words from St. Paul as they have been incorporated into the Proper Preface for All Saints’ Day and the seven days following. If you turn in your Prayer Books to page 79 you will see what I am talking about. All of the Proper Prefaces for the seasons as proscribed in the Prayer Book carry with them instructions as to when they are to be read. There are six that are to be read throughout the Octave – Christmas, Epiphany, Easter, Ascension, Whitsuntide, and All Saints’. If you look at the first five, they all pertain to Jesus or Holy Spirit personally – Jesus’ Nativity, His manifestation to the Gentiles, His Resurrection from the dead, His Ascension to the Father, the coming of the Holy Ghost to the Apostles. The final Feast celebrates those who loved, and served the Lord Jesus.
Of course our primary focus has to lie in the following of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the study of His holy Word, in the keeping of His law and commandments, in the taking of His message to the entire world. However, we do ourselves a huge mistake if we do not study the lives of His Saints, how they lived their lives, what they wrote and taught about the church and Holy Scripture. Why does the Prayer Book and Church Kalendar spend so much time writing collects and ascribing additional portions of Scripture to be read when we commemorate Saints’ Days if we weren’t supposed to learn something from them, live with the same fervor and passion for our Lord as they did, and bid them to pray for us? We should! It is meet and right for us to do this!

One of the great saints of the church was John Chrysostom. His name literally means “golden tongued” or “golden mouthed” and his voluminous writings are studied for their profundity and depth, his engagement of Holy Scripture, and the sermons that he left us. In addition to his writings on various topics of engagement and discussion, and a service of the Divine Liturgy attributed to him, Chrysostom has left some sixty-seven sermons on Genesis, fifty-nine on the Psalms, ninety on the Gospel of Matthew, eighty-eight on the Gospel of John, and fifty-five on the Acts of the Apostles. That’s 359 sermons on just five books of the Bible if anyone was counting. It’s certainly plausible that there hundreds more that did not survive since he was writing in the fourth century AD.

I wish to read an excerpt from one of his writings that is part of the lessons appointed for today in the Anglican Breviary. I believe he speaks so well as to why we are called upon to study the lives of the Saints so that we might walk the same path as they did in order to reach the same destination where they have now arrived.
“He that wondereth with reverential love at the mighty deeds of the holy, he that hath oftentimes on his tongue praises for the glory of the righteous, let such an one copy their holy lives and their righteousness; for if any take pleasure in the work of a Saint, he ought to take pleasure in serving God as that Saint served him. If he praiseth the Saint, he ought to imitate him, and if he is not ready to imitate him, he ought not to praise him. Let him that praiseth another make himself worthy of a like praise, and if he be in admiration of the Saints, let his own admirable life reflect the holiness of theirs. If we love the good and loyal because they are good and loyal, let us not forget that we can be what they are, by doing as they did.
“It ought not to be hard for us to copy others, when we see what they of old time did without any ensamples before them, so that in them who copied not others, but set ensample for others to copy, and in us who copy them, and in them which take ensample by us, Christ may be glorified in his holy Church. Thus from the very beginning of the world there have been the harmless Abel who was slain, Enoch who walked with God, and was seen no more, for God took him, Noah who was found righteous, Abraham who was tried and found faithful, Moses who was the meekest of men, Joshua who was chaste, David who was gentle, Elijah who was accepted, Daniel who was holy, and the three Children who were victorious.

The Apostles, the disciples of Christ, are held to be the teachers of believers. Confessors taught of them fight right manfully, the noble martyrs triumph, and the Christian army armed with the armour of God, ever prevaileth in warfare against the devil. All these have been men of like loyalty, divers warfarings, and glorious victories. And thou, O Christian, art but a carpet-knight, if thou thinkest to conquer without a fight, to triumph without a struggle. Nerve thyself, strive manfully, hit hard in the press. Consider thine engagement, look to thy state, know thine arm, even the engagement which thou hast taken, the state wherein thou art come, and the arm wherewith thou hast enrolled thyself a soldier.”

Each All Saints’ Day we hear again Jesus’ words from the Sermon on the Mount known as the Beatitudes. On page 257 of the Prayer Book you can find the passage from the fifth chapter of St. Matthew where it says that Jesus opened his mouth and taught at a minimum the apostles, but quite likely the multitude that had followed him and began with those familiar words, “Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.” He continues with the other seven “Blessed are” statements, but I only wish to touch on this first one because of its blessing and its reward.
The poor in spirit is not talking about the destitute, or the financially poor, but rather those who consider poverty of spirit to be something to be sought after and not shunned. Poverty of spirit is that emptying of self and total realization that we do not possess what it takes to be the person our Lord calls us to be. We do not have on our own what is required to live the way God wants us to live. We are incapable of loving our Heavenly Father, our neighbors, or ourselves the way we ought without the influence of something outside of ourselves. We need help and that help comes from the Spirit of the God. The Holy Ghost dwelling within us is what is required and the great saints of the church recognized that a posture of poverty of spirit was absolutely necessary in order for the Spirit to come into our hearts and lives and begin to do His work. Only through poverty of spirit can we clean our spiritual house so to speak.

Those who embrace a poverty of spirit are promised the kingdom of heaven. It’s important to note here that the verb is in the present tense. Theirs IS the kingdom of heaven. It’s not just something we have to await, but it’s something to embrace. Jesus taught us to pray to our Father in Heaven for His kingdom to come “on earth as it is in heaven.” God’s kingdom is to be experienced in the here and now even as we will enjoy those incredible joys in the life to come.
We are called to be those poor in spirit folk who embrace this particular form of poverty in order to be the inheritors of the kingdom of heaven. The reason this is so critical is because we are called to share that kingdom with others. The only way we can share it is if we experience it, live in it, and know it intimately. If we are indeed ready to embrace a life of poverty, a poverty of spirit, ours is our Father’s kingdom to enjoy and then share with a world that desperately needs to embrace it as well.

2010-11-02T18:14:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 31, 2010

So why does Jesus do it this way?

We come to the familiar story of Peter’s question of our Lord regarding how many times he ought to forgive someone who has sinned against him. Peter tries to put limits out there to make sure that he doesn’t do too much. Peter has turned Pharisaical and wants to know exactly what he’s supposed to do in a measured, quantitative fashion. It would be awful if Peter actually went the extra mile and continued to forgive when it actually hurt, when it actually cost him something. Our Lord answers him, and says, no, you are not to forgive your neighbor some documented number of times, and then put up a shield and say no more. When your neighbor comes to you in humility and with a sincere, penitent heart seeking your forgiveness you are to give it. His answer to Peter doesn’t even imply to do the actual math and limit it to 490 times. Jesus is using metaphor and hyperbole to tell Peter, quit putting limits on something that you don’t have any right to comment on – you leave that to me.

He then goes on and in familiar fashion tells them a story. He tells the parable that we’ve come to know as the parable of the unforgiving servant. Jesus doesn’t want Peter to concentrate on specific amounts regarding the number of times he tells him to forgive his neighbor, but this parable does use some specific amounts that helps tell the story. Notice that he is quite specific in making sure we know what he’s emphasizing when he tells us how much each debtor owed, and to whom they are owed. It said the first man owed the king 10,000 talents. How much is that? Let’s try and put this in perspective, and hang with me for a second.

A Talent would have been equal to about 60 minas. One mina would be equal to 3 months wages. Therefore, one talent would have been equal to 180 months wages. 180 months is 15 years so 1 talent would be 15 years worth of income. Jesus said 10,000 talents is what the man owed. You do the math, that’s 150,000 years’ worth of wages!!! This is what the man owed! He was indebted to the king 1,500 lifetimes worth of wages. Do you begin to see the magnitude of what he’s talking about here? There’s no way even in Warren Buffet terms that anyone could ever pay off indebtedness like that.

Jesus says it this way because of something very peculiar in the Greek. Two different words are in play here when looking at this parable, and when the servant literally “prostrated himself” before the king, begging him for mercy, the king was moved to compassion or was moved to pity, same word that I highlighted in a sermon several weeks ago, and forgave him not a debt, but a LOAN! What sense does the word loan make here in this context?

Think of what we say at the offertory, “All things come of thee O LORD, and of thine own have we given thee.” Think of what God said to Adam at creation, have dominion and stewardship over all things, take care of them, they are of an infinite worth, and I have entrusted them into your care. They are on loan to you. If you don’t take care of it, you can never repay the cost to replace it. I believe that there is a distinct theological point being made here, and very few English translations ever render to word as loan instead of debt. Our lives are in fact on loan to us. We in fact belong to God; we are made in His image; we have His Spirit within us. The giving of our lives, our souls, our bodies, is our woefully small, but crucial return payment for what we’ve received.

So the man who was forgiven the impossible loan or debt goes out and finds a fellow slave who owes him 100 denarii. So how much did this man owe? A denarius would have been the normal payment for a day’s wage. In Jesus’ day if you went down to your local Labor Finders a denarius would have been the amount you would have paid someone to work for you for a day. Therefore, 100 denarii would have been about 100 day’s wages. Certainly, with time, this fellow slave could have repaid the debt that he owed to his neighbor. However, the slave who had himself been forgiven couldn’t do the same, and had the man thrown into prison.

Word of course reaches the king’s ears regarding what happened, and he is infuriated with the man. If you remember back to the beginning of the parable, he said that he was going to take him, his wife, and his children, and everything that pertained to him, sell them off until everything that he owed was repaid. The unrepentant servant went a step further with his fellow-servant, and threw him into prison because he could not pay his debt. The plight of the first man became much worse when he went back before the king because he didn’t simply sell him and his family off for repayment, he didn’t simply throw him into prison, he turned him over to the tormenters. This is the only occurrence of this word in the Bible, but the word does in fact mean tormenter or torturer.

So here we come again back to my original question, why does Jesus do it this way? I believe that he tells the story the way he does and when he does is because the disciples like us today, need to hear things repeated and in a different fashion. What do I mean here?

At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, he taught his disciples to pray, and told them that when they pray they should ask their heavenly Father to forgive them their debts, as they are called upon to forgive those indebted to them. In Matthew’s recording of our Lord’s words, the same word for debt is used here as in the Lord’s Prayer. The disciples and we too haven’t yet figured out that our ability to be forgiven depends on our ability to forgive. I’m not saying that God’s hands are being tied, but the only way for us to ever understand what it means to be truly forgiven is if we do the same to our fellow man. I don’t think that we can ever comprehend the magnitude of the debt that we owe to God, that has been paid though the shed blood of Jesus Christ, and that we have had the slate wiped clean by God’s Son. I don’t think we can ever comprehend that magnitude, but we can begin to approach it if we obey our Lord’s command and forgive as we ought. This is a lens through which we can understand God’s mercy is through our ability to forgive others who wrong us.

It’s a safe statement to make that we really don’t understand this magnitude. How about this for an example. We have just received our Lord’s pardon and forgiveness, and fed at his table. As we leave church our neighbor pulls in front of us, goes too slow, or in general irritates us on our way home. I’ve totally forgotten about God’s forgiveness of me as I am at best simply muttering something uncharitable under my breath, thankful I didn’t say what I was thinking out loud for others to hear. How do we expect God to forgive us, if we can first forgive others in the simplest of things? The writer of Ecclesiasticus conveys those exact same sentiments, “He that revengeth shall find vengeance from the Lord, and he will surely keep his sins in remembrance. One man beareth hatred against another, and doth he seek pardon from the Lord? He sheweth no mercy to a man, which is like himself: and doth he ask forgiveness of his own sins? If he that is but flesh nourish hatred, who will intreat for pardon of his sins?”

We have a divine command to seek pardon and forgiveness for the sins we commit against God and our neighbor. Our duty is to call our sins to remembrance so that we might lay them before Almighty God and ask him to so far remove them as the east is from the west. God’s promise is that He will do just that, however, he makes one request of us in the process – do the same to others. Show the same kind of charity to them that has been shown to each of us. For in so doing, we practice what we preach, and we receive the joy of being in love and charity with our neighbor, forgiving them as we have first been forgiven.

2010-10-23T20:54:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 24, 2010

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Heb. 11.1)

Our Gospel lesson for this Sunday shifts gears a bit as we heard a passage from St. John’s Gospel. We will return to Matthew for the remaining Sunday mornings in Trinitytide until the Sunday next before Advent when we will hear John’s account of the feeding of the 5,000. We heard a portion of the fourth chapter this morning, which tells the story of the healing of the nobleman’s son.

There are a number of items that aren’t readily accessible when reading this passage and the first comes from the fact that the beginning of our reading doesn’t actually start with the entire forty-sixth verse. The beginning of that verse reads, “So Jesus came again into Cana of Galilee, where he made the water wine. And there was a certain nobleman, whose son was sick at Capernaum.” We are back in the very same city where Jesus performed his first sign as recorded in John, and now he is about to do it again. Our lesson this morning follows the long dialogue that Jesus has with the Samaritan woman at the well, and we hear of her faith, and the faith of the people who hear her story, who see and hear Jesus themselves, and believe that He is in fact the long awaited for Messiah.

I also don’t think we fully grasp this term “nobleman.” The word in Greek has its roots in the same word that means “kingdom.” Apparently this nobleman was perhaps a royal official in the court of Herod Antipas because that word literally means, “of or belonging to a king, royal, regal; the officer or minister of a prince, courtier.” We are dealing with someone who possesses an earned rank at the highest levels of government, someone who is used to getting what he wants, when he wants it, in the manner he wants it done. He carries with him the voice of the king, and that means people usually listen to him.

How appropriate, rather, how ironic, that a minister of the king, would humble himself to come to the King of kings, seeking his help that he might come and heal his son. What we have here is the birth of faith – that notion of realizing that we are impotent to do it for ourselves and that we must place ourselves into the care of someone else. It means that we have to place our pride upon a shelf and leave it there for the seeds of this infant faith to take root and begin to grow and sprout.

Most likely since this interaction takes place again in Cana, the nobleman had heard about what Jesus did at the wedding feast. He had prior knowledge that this man had performed a miracle and if he would come with him back to Capernaum he might be able to heal his son. That’s certainly a reasonable request since Jesus was physically present when he performed this first miracle, it should stand to reason that Jesus would need to travel with this nobleman to his town so that he might perhaps do the same. However, the nobleman has unintentionally placed limits on where, when, and how Jesus might work in our lives. It’s certainly logical that his first glimpse at faith in Jesus would require Jesus’ physical presence. As we will see shortly, as the nobleman’s faith matures quickly this couldn’t be further from the truth.

Jesus then responds with what sounds like a sarcastic response to him when he declares, “Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will not believe.” However, we have to pay attention to the pronouns here. One of the shortcomings of the English language is the fact that we don’t have a mechanism for distinguishing between “you” in the singular and “you” in the plural. Except of course, here in the South we’ve solved that problem with what might be the best word ever, Y’ALL! The Old English of the King James does help us see this when it uses the word “ye.” That is the second plural of “you,” so he’s actually talking to the crowds here and not singling out the nobleman. If he had been speaking to him individually, it would have been rendered “thou.” See, Elizabethan English is good for something after all.

Why do I mention this? Because so many simply want to see the signs and wonders. So many want the empirical evidence before they commit to belief. So many have to see it for themselves. “Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet believe.” There is also the more grave issue of attempting to separate the miraculous from Source of the miracle. With the miraculous comes the teaching and instruction of the miracles are even there in the first place. The miracles are nice, but if it does not lead to a full surrender of life to Jesus, then all has been lost. This is what begins to move faith from birth toward growth.

Even after the man hears these stinging words, he is not dejected, angry, or despondent. He simply asks again in faith, “Sir, come down ere my child die.” The nobleman again checks his pride in light of the gravity of the situation, and out of desperation asks again for mercy in whatever fashion it might manifest itself.

What happens next is almost hard to comprehend. Jesus says to the nobleman, “Go thy way; thy son liveth. And the man believed the word that Jesus had spoken unto him, and he went his way.” He didn’t ask him, “Are you sure?” He simply turned and walked away.

What has Jesus done here? What is the significance of why he did it this way? I think that Fr. Dunbar explains this wonderfully when he says, “By telling the man to leave, with the assurance that his son will live, he pushes the miraculous event, the wondrous sign, out of the spotlight, where it cannot be seen and cannot become a sensational crowd-pleaser. The miracle is pushed ‘offstage’, and the challenge of faith and obedience in response to Jesus’ word are brought into the spotlight instead. So the question for the royal official becomes not, will Jesus come down and heal my son, but, will I obey his command? And that in turn depends upon the question, will I believe his promise?

Those are the questions for us all, when we bring our hopes and fears to God in prayer. Will we insist on his submitting to our demands? Or will we subordinate our wishes to the purpose of his will? When we rise from our knees, are we still trying to have our way with God, or have we decided to let God have his way with us? Specifically are we ready to trust in his mercy, and obey his will, leaving the outcome to him? Notice also that you can’t believe, but refuse to obey; or obey, without first believing: Christ gives us something to believe, and something to obey, and our faith and obedience are the right and left hands by which the soul receives the blessing he gives.”

His turn toward home is the transition point between hope and faith. Something within his very soul helped him turn away from Jesus, with some type of assurance that what he had hoped for, the healing of his son, was going to happen. He came to Jesus as a nobleman who was used to issuing orders and having them carried out. He came to Jesus with the hope and expectation that he would come with him and perform something miraculous. He left in a spirit of true humility, with the assurance that something miraculous was going to happen.

As the man was on his way home, his servants ran out to meet him and told him that his son was fine. He inquired of the servants as to what time he began to improve and they said about the seventh hour, the same time that Jesus had told him to go his way that his son would live. The man “knew” that it was the Word of God who had spoken but a few words to him was the source of his son’s healing and restoration to health.

The birth and growth of the man’s faith comes to full recognition and fruition when John says that the man, “himself believed, and his whole house.” This is an emphatic statement in the Greek, and has the connotation of saying something like, “He, himself, this one, he believed.” This man went to Jesus as an officer or nobleman in the service of a king. He left as a servant of the true King.
In a few weeks we will hear the story of Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000, and the miraculous multiplying of food. This morning, we heard of the miraculous multiplying of faith. We saw the transformation of one man’s faith from birth, to growth, to maturity. The overarching theme that permeates this entire exchange is the posture of the man’s heart. He came in a state of humility, seeking a miracle. It was through that humility that Jesus was able to do more than simply heal a man’s sick son. He was able to heal the souls of an entire household.

The signs that Jesus worked while he was here on earth point to something greater and more glorious. May we have the humility to go in faith, believing in the evidence of things hoped for; and receiving the assurance of those things left unseen!

2010-10-22T09:00:00.003-04:00

Ummmm, NO!

Dr. Katherine Schori participated in a gathering in Atlanta in which she was a presenter on the topic of "happiness." A copy of her address can be found here. In a cursory glance at the text one paragraph stood out as quite strange.

Jesus’ ministry, his public work, is most essentially focused on feeding, healing, and teaching people – in that order. The goods of this world are essential to happiness and blessing. His contemporaries criticized Jesus for what was perceived as his inattention to the law. They charged him with being a glutton and a drunkard. Most of the alleged ways in which he violated religious law have to do with purity – not paying enough attention to who he eats with or talks to, or healing on the sabbath. His general response is that the law is made for improving human relationships (with God, self, neighbor, and creation) – and by implication, human happiness.

How on earth can she make the claim that Jesus' ministry was about feeding, healing, and teaching people - in that order? Any assertion of Jesus' ministry devoid of the atonement is a complete aberration, and is not the Gospel of the Christian faith. Jesus didn't have to become incarnate, to live and die as one of us, if He were simply a feeding trough, miracle worker, and moral teacher. What a complete and utter sham, and the very fact that she speaks on behalf of The Episcopal Church is a disgrace.

She goes on to say that the "goods of this world are essential to happiness and blessing." WHAT?! I guess that means that all of the monks and ascetics who ever lived, who have intentionally shed the goods of this world experienced no happiness or blessing at all. To read their writings would tell a very different story. Wasn't attachment to the goods of this world what led to the damnation of the rich man who asked Lazarus for a simple drop of water in his torment? Wasn't it the goods of this world that kept the man from selling all he had, giving to the poor, and following Jesus?

Dr. Schori has completely bought into the liberal theology that Reinhold Neibuhr criticized when he said those churches have produced, "a God without wrath brought men without sin into a Kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a Cross." Abp. of Canterbury William Temple once wrote in his Readings in St. John's Gospel, "why anyone would have bothered to crucify the Jesus of liberal protestantism remains a mystery."

It would be so much easier of those of us who still acknowledge we are sinful and in need of a redeemer and saviour, who understand that true happiness comes not from the goods of this world, but the assurance of pardon and forgiveness, if Dr. Schori would simply be quiet and not put her ignorance of the Christian faith on a pedestal for all the world to see.

2010-10-16T16:41:00.003-04:00

Sermon for the Twentieth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 17, 2010

Here we go again. We are again presented with a situation in our Lectionary in which we are hearing a similar story from the perspective of two different Gospel writers. On the Third Sunday after Trinity, we heard the Lukan version of the Parable of the Great Banquet, and its nuance in expanding the different excuses that were given by those who were bidden to the banquet, and why they couldn’t attend. This morning we heard the much harder parable told from Matthew’s vantage point that has the additional story at the end about one of the guests who isn’t wearing an appropriate wedding garment.

We come to another place where we might ask ourselves the question again, why don’t we just hear one of the two parables, and then have the preacher bring in the necessary bits about why Luke’s version is different from Matthew’s or vice versa? Shouldn’t we be able to get the point if we only heard one of these stories each year? The framers of the Lectionary certainly didn’t think so, and our Gospel lessons for Trinitytide have a central theme and focus that speaks to the issue of discipleship, and what being a follower and disciple of Jesus really looks like. They believed that it was important enough for us to hear shortly after Eastertide, and then again shortly before Advent to hear both of these parables, and not exchange one for the other. These two stories tell, each in their own way, what we are to anticipate, and the demise of those who shrug off the Master’s invitation.

If you notice from the heading, you can see that this passage is situated toward the end of Jesus’ ministry as recorded by Matthew. Jesus is making his final journey to Jerusalem and he knows that his time on earth is quickly drawing to a close. His criticism of the religious authorities, the Scribes, the Pharisees becomes even more direct and more pointed. In this parable though, his intended audience is everyone. So many times, Jesus’ words have a stinging tone directed at those who intentionally placed obstacles in the paths of those who would come and follow him. Jesus called out the religiosity more often than not. This morning’s story hits us all, and no one can stand back and say, “Oh, I don’t see where this applies to me.”

In much the same way as the version from St. Luke begins, Jesus tells the story of a man who throws a party. We hear these words, “The kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son.” This parable comes at things differently as Matthew opens with the phrase, “the kingdom of heaven is like unto.” Eleven different times, Matthew begins a teaching of Jesus with these words as a point of comparison. The kingdom of heaven is like unto “a man who sowed good seed in his field,” “a mustard seed,” “yeast that a woman mixes,” “treasure hidden in a field,” “a merchant in search of pearls,” “a net,” “a king.” Many of the people who have been following Jesus have most likely heard some of these stories before, and therefore, would be attuned to what he was preparing to say when he begins with that familiar clause.

As we heard in Luke’s account, those who had received invitations made excuses as to why they could not come. Some of the folks who were bidden went so far as to take the very servants of the king who brought their invitation to the banquet, and “treated them spitefully and slew them.” When the news reached the king, he was infuriated with those who killed his servants and retaliated – utterly destroying them and their cities.

One commentator who holds to a late 1st Century date of the writing of Matthew’s Gospel asserts that the verse about the burning of the city was a historical account of the sacking of Jerusalem between 66 – 70 AD. If in fact Matthew’s Gospel was written after the Jerusalem destruction that would certainly make sense.

We have here the direct condemnation of the religious authorities of the day when Jesus says to his servants, “The wedding is ready, by they which were bidden were not worthy.” The very people who were charged with the instruction of the people, and the leadership of corporate worship of God were said to be unworthy. St. Paul echoes that same sentiment when he says to the Ephesian Church and to us as well to, “walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, with all lowliness and meekness….” Lowliness and meekness would not have been attributes that we could readily ascribe to the Pharisees, priests, and scribes of the day.

Then in a gesture of inclusion and openness Jesus then says that the king throws wide the doors of the “palace” and instructs his servants to search far and wide and extend an invitation to anyone who will come to feast at his wedding banquet table. It’s almost hard to comprehend what that would look like. How can we fathom the size and scope of that much generosity?

We can’t, and that’s a critical part of the story!

That’s why the second half of this parable is included, and also why it seems to sting so much. There are many who would like somehow to soften the expulsion of the guest who fails to put on a wedding garment. You can’t explain this away. Our Lord is most explicit here in saying that those who will come and dine with him must be properly attired for the event. Some would like to say, oh that’s not fair, he was just brought in from off the street, how could he have put on a wedding garment? He was probably too poor to have been able to afford one, that’s an affront to the plight of the poor.

Those who would assert something like that don’t understand what’s going on here. Not only does the king go everywhere to open up his home, he had an antechamber full of wedding garments for the guests to put on if he’d only asked for one. Instead, he thought that he could just march on in, sit down, dine at the king’s table, and bring all of his old ways with him.

The king says to him, why have you come in here without first putting on the very best? Why have you not received the garment that I would have readily provided you? He, of course, is speechless.

The man has failed to put on the Lord Jesus. He has refused to strive to be Holy as the King who invited him to the banquet is Holy. He wanted to hold onto what he brought into the feast, when the King intends for us all to shed those things, and be a new creation and begin to look the part.

For those who were at the Basics class this past Tuesday, this will be a repeat, but I think that the example the Fr. Cantrell gives explains quite well what putting on the wedding garment looks like, and why Matthew makes sure that we hear these words of Jesus.

When I am baptized and confirmed, the Holy Ghost knocks on the door of my life. I answer the door. There he is in his top hat and cut-away coat standing on my doorstep. He says, “Hello, I’m the Holy Ghost, and I have come to live with you. May I come in?” And I say, “Oh, of course! I’m so glad to have you in my life. Please come in and make yourself at home.”

So he comes in and sits down. After he has looked around the parlor for a few minutes, he says, “Say, I notice that your furniture looks pretty run-down. Now, it just happens that I have all my fine antiques in storage. If you would like, I would be happy to move them in so we both could enjoy them.”

Of course, I reply at once, “Why that would be wonderful!”

So the Holy Ghost stands up and says, “Well there’s no time like the present.” And he turns around and starts to pick up the chair he has been sitting in.

Then I ask, “What are you doing? Why are you picking up that chair?”

The Holy Ghost replies, “Well, if I am going to bring in my good things, we will have to move out your old stuff in order to have room for mine.”

Now I get alarmed. I say, “Well, that chair was given to me by my grandparents. Can’t you start with something else?”

And he answers, “All right, if you prefer.” And he starts to pick up another piece of furniture.

But I object to that one also. And before long, it is clear that I am not willing to give up any of my old things. I am just too attached to them.

Finally, he tells me that I will have to choose whether I really want his things in my life or not.

Our life as Christians and disciples is one filled with the constant shedding of layers of our old clothing with the joyful experience of having the Lord dress us in his finest garments, garments fit for a King and a wedding banquet. Our fervent prayers and desires are to allow God to free us from our attachment to these worldly things, and gladly exchange them for things heavenly. Then, and only then, can we enjoy the fullness of our Lord’s banquet, and can go out into the highways and byways inviting others in to partake of the Wedding Supper of the Lamb that has been prepared for us to enjoy in the presence of the King. And, let us not forget to ask the Master for the clothing fit for the occasion.

2010-10-15T23:10:00.004-04:00

A Light Shining in the Darkness

The Diocese of South Carolina reconvened and passed a number of powerful resolutions which helps to anchor its autonomy, and attempts to stave off the unwanted and inappropriate incursions by the National Church into diocesan affairs. The convention also went about its business in addressing the very troubling Title IV National Canon changes that go into effect next summer.

I read Bp. Mark Lawrence's convention speech tonight, and I continue to be amazed at the calm spirit with which Bp. Lawrence speaks in the face of such rabid persecution from 815 and most notably, Katherine Jefferts Schori. Would that others within the House of Bishops spoke with such clarity of conviction. Instead, the House issues position papers on immigration devoid of any substance whatsoever.

At the end of his address, Bp. Lawrence stated that he received a phone call from a fellow bishop stating that he and five other bishops had been sent e-mails from Ms. Schori discussing South Carolina's upcoming convention and the problems that it presented for the diocese and the bishop. Ms. Schori encouraged the six bishops to speak with Bp. Lawrence because, "'the apparent focus of this diocesan gathering does not bode will for [Mark's] status as a bishop who has sworn to uphold the doctrine, discipline, and worship of this Church.'" The mere fact that she would stoop to levels such as this is almost beyond belief. The only word that frankly comes to mind is evil. She is doing her best to make sure that the faithful, orthodox voice is stamped out wherever it is uttered so that TEC can go about its business of being the ecclesiastical arm of the United Nations.

May God continue to bless Bp. Mark Lawrence, the Standing Committee, the clergy, and faithful churchmen of the Diocese of South Carolina. I'm proud to have worked there as an intern in the summer of 2006.

2010-10-11T16:04:00.000-04:00

Sermon for the Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 10, 2010

In response to discussions at the Basics in Christianity class from a few weeks ago, this sermon was an attempt to clarify the questions that were raised regarding the Jewish people, and those of other faiths, in light of the statement that the Church is the New Israel.

Who then will be saved?

First, our Lord is quite clear, and the Christian faith has always taught that salvation comes through person of Jesus Christ, and Him alone. That is a dogmatic assertion of Christianity, and one that must be believed if one is going to claim to be a Christian. That inevitably leads to the follow-up question, what about those who do not believe? The Universalist side of the house would say that all paths ultimately lead to God, and therefore, belief and confession of Jesus Christ is not a pre-requisite to salvation. God is too loving, too merciful, too just to allow anyone to fall outside of His grace and that in the end, all will be saved. That position is completely unbiblical. As the Creeds assert and we believe, there will be a judgment of both the quick and the dead, and that judgment will have everlasting consequences, either salvation or damnation. The main point to make here is that judgment and the state of one’s soul rests completely under the mercy and authority of Almighty God. Period! Each and every one of us stands convicted before God as sinners who have fallen short of the glory of God. We possess no right to make presumptions regarding the salvation or damnation of another person. We have enough on our own plate to worry about, let alone attempting to judge someone else. I realize that sounds callous and harsh. However, who do we think we are to presume to tell God His business about whom to save and not to save? In perfect justice He could condemn the entire world; but He is and always has been a God who wants to help. And that's why He comes to sinners: to save them. Now, those who need no savior (because they have it through their keeping of the Decalogue or their Koranic life or their attempt to achieve Nirvana) don't, apparently, need God, because God is a God who, in Christ, justifies the sinner; while they want to justify, that is, account for, themselves, before Him (or whatever) on their own. Fine. Then in that case, Jesus’ words, “Physician, heal thyself!” become the words that they must then live by. But to whoever is stung by that rebuke--and who can't be?--God offers grace, mercy, compassion, pity, and every blessing and eternal life in His Son, who has borne the sins of the world in our place, removed them as far as East is from West, and opened the door to everlasting life. And that's the only way you'll ever know God as gracious; otherwise He will always be a demanding, fearsome, exacting judge whom you must hate.

I made the statement the other night that the Old Covenant was not “undone” or “negated” or “eliminated” through Jesus and the institution of the New Covenant. I stand behind those words, but wish to elaborate upon them a bit more. The New Covenant is the perfect fulfillment of the Old Covenant. Jesus’ own words, “Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil” (Matt. 5:17), should give us a glimpse as to how he viewed the Old Covenant. The difference between the two is how they manifest themselves. The markers of the Old Covenant were the Law or Torah, circumcision, the family or being part of the Chosen People, and the Promised Land that God was to give them. Jesus does not throw out the Law or Torah, he goes to the very heart of it; circumcision was not to be seen as simply an outward marker of who someone was, but as St. Paul exhorts, “For he is not a Jew, which is one outwardly; neither is that circumcision, which is outward in the flesh: But he is a Jew, which is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter; whose praise is not of men, but of God” (Rom. 2:28-9), so that the sign of being part of the New Covenant is a change on the inside that manifests itself in the fruit we bear, not just something physical. As the General Thanksgiving states we are to show forth God’s grace and mercy, “not only with our lips, but in our lives.” Jesus’ message about the Law deals not in the rote keeping of all of the commandments, but that followers of God look different, live different, worship different, love different, than our pagan neighbors. Jesus didn’t come to start a religion, or usher in something called Christianity. He came to show what being the Chosen People, what being the Covenant People, what the true Israel was supposed to look like. He grafted into the Old Covenant all who would come to Him in faith, recognizing that He was long-awaited Messiah who is God in the flesh, who came to make the atoning sacrifice of His own Body to be the propitiation for the sins of the whole world. He also came to teach the people of his day and us as well that the land of the Covenant is not simply a tract of dirt on this earth, but eternity in His nearer presence. God’s gift of the Promised Land is yet to come.
So where does that leave the Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, and any other group that does not proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord? It quite frankly leaves them in a state of peril. In previous Prayer Books, one of the Collects for Good Friday reads as follows:

O MERCIFUL God, who hast made all men, and hatest nothing that thou hast made, nor desirest the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be converted and live; Have mercy upon all Jews, Turks, infidels, and heretics; and take from them all ignorance, hardness of heart, and contempt of thy Word; and so fetch them home, blessed Lord, to thy flock, that they may be saved among the remnant of the true Israelites, and be made one fold under one shepherd, Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.”

Strong words, I think you would agree. However, look at the words carefully, and look at what they truly say. It does not explicitly condemn them, rather, it is an appeal to God’s grace and mercy. It seeks for them the same thing it does for us, “all ignorance, hardness of heart, contempt of [His] Word.” I believe I stand convicted on all three of the above mentioned counts. Then it acknowledges the reality of Jesus as the Door, the Way, the Truth, the Life, the Good Shepherd who will always leave the 99 and look for the 1 that is lost; the one who says that He has other sheep not of this fold, but is going to fetch and bring home.
This certainly leaves us with work to do. This leaves us with the Gospel mandate to, “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” Some will say that this is a most uncharitable position to take. They will argue that there is an air of superiority and smugness that we’ve got the inside track, and others had better get on board. I believe the truly uncharitable thing is to shirk our responsibility to tell others about the Good News of Jesus Christ for fear of rejection. Jesus said, “Not everyone that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, will enter into the Kingdom of Heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.” There will be those who reject these words, and reject us in the process. However, they do so to their everlasting peril.

The only way that love works is if it is free and carries with it no conditions. Part of our humanity rests in the belief that we are free to make choices. It is just as easy to accept this gift as it is to reject it. Our calling is to live a life that makes our Lord’s gift of eternal salvation something that no one would want to live, or die without.

2010-10-02T20:14:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 3, 2010

Some of you may be wondering if I read the wrong Gospel lesson this morning. You might be thinking, didn’t we hear just a few weeks ago the re-telling of the Summary of the Law? Why are we hearing it again? If you thought that or asked those questions, I think you’ve hit on something important. You’re asking a very good question.

In fact, we did hear the re-telling of the Summary of the Law just five weeks ago on the Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. It was within the context of the Parable of the Good Samaritan from St. Luke’s Gospel. If you remember that account, it is not Jesus who recites the Summary, but rather, the lawyer who posed the question to Jesus, “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?” In this morning’s Gospel from St. Matthew, the situation is somewhat different, but in actuality, it’s quite similar. A group of people who simply want the easy way out ask Jesus a question in attempt to catch him in a trap.

I’m not really sure what type of answer they were searching for, hoping he’d give in order to trap Him in His words, but we know that this was their ulterior motive for doing what they did. In somewhat atypical Jesus fashion, he actually answers their question, and does so by appealing to the only logical place he could, Sacred Scripture. He recounts for them the words from Deuteronomy 6 and Leviticus 19, and those same words are proclaimed each and every time we celebrate the Holy Eucharist. So why do we seemingly hear the same story that we heard five weeks ago again this morning? Unfortunately, if we ask that question, I’m afraid we’ve missed the point.

After all, it’s not the same story at all. It’s quite different on so many fronts.

First of all, we never hear the same stories twice. We never hear the same stories twice because we are never the same when we hear them for the second, third, forty-fifth, or any number of times. We are never the same, and therefore, the story affects us differently each time we hear it. It may not be something we are conscious of at the time, but the gospel is new and fresh even if we are hearing a familiar passage.

This does not mean that the Truth behind it is different. As St. Paul regularly said, God Forbid! Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. If, as we proclaim, He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, there is no variation in the message. It is the recipient of that message that is different, and with God’s grace, different for the better.

If we were to have cut off the second part of these two pericopes, then we would miss out on the critical points that Matthew and Luke are trying to bring to light.

If you remember back to the Gospel from St. Luke from a few weeks ago, the second half of the story centered around the retort from the lawyer when he asks Jesus, “so who is my neighbor?” In response, Jesus then tells the Parable of the Good Samaritan, and thus exegetes the second portion of the Summary, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”

In this morning’s Gospel from St. Matthew, we again hear those familiar words, but then Jesus wants to focus on the first half of the Summary, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God.” He does this by asking a circular question that completely befuddles the Pharisees and those who were listening to Him.

Jesus quotes the first verse of the 110th Psalm, and does so in a manner that, “no man was able to answer him a word,” and actually puts the crowd to silence. He says to the crowds, “What think ye of Christ? Whose son is he?” To which the Pharisees give the expected response. Why of course, he’s the Son of David. We’ve been waiting patiently when a descendent of King David might again sit on God’s throne, and rule his people, and we might no longer live as slaves. We are the sons of Abraham, to whom all of the promises of the covenant were given, and we’ve followed the Law of Moses ever since. What kind of question are you asking us here? Of course, he’s the Son of David.

Jesus then very carefully asks them this question, “How then doth David in spirit call him Lord, saying, The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool?”

Here again, the Bible fails us! No, I don’t mean in what it says, but by what it doesn’t say. Golly I wish I could have seen the expressions of utter dismay, confusion, and frustration that must have been written large across their faces. I’m sure that the prevalent thought running through their heads was, “I sure didn’t see that one coming.” For anyone who has seen The Simpsons, the only fair reaction is that of Homer, “DOH!”

What Jesus has just done in one swoop is give them a glimpse into the first half of the Summary, that they needed to realize and understand that the God who spoke all things into Creation, who made the Covenant with Abraham, who was with Moses on Mt. Sinai, who was praised as LORD by King David, who was spoken of and proclaimed by the prophets was standing right in front of them. They were given the gift of seeing God in his Incarnate form, and they walked off dumbfounded and silent. In many ways they were simply predecessors of Pontius Pilate who when the Truth was standing right in front of him, he asks the question, “What is truth?” No, they weren’t like the lawyer from the Lukan version of this story when he asks, “Who is my neighbor?” Instead their actions spoke louder than any words could, “And no man was able to answer him a word; neither durst any man from that day forth ask him any more questions.” They truly had no idea who Jesus was talking about when he told them, “Thou shalt love the LORD thy God.”

The confusion didn’t stop 2,000 years ago in Palestine. Many are just as confused today even within the church about who God is, who Jesus is, and who we are in light of that revelation. As disciples of Jesus Christ our mission, our mandate, our calling is the worship and love the LORD our God with every fiber of our being, and to love our fellow man as ourselves. The two questions that we must be able to answer and show to others is “Who is God?” and “Who is my neighbor?” In the parable of the Good Samaritan we get a very good picture of who our neighbor is. In this morning’s Gospel we see who God is. As we sang in our hymn just few moments ago, we worship, “the Lord’s Anointed, great David’s greater Son!” We worship the one who embodies all of the promises of the Covenant made to Abraham, who is not the God of the dead, but of the living. We worship the one who has left us with His promise that He will never leave us nor forsake us, and who was revealed to those apostles on the road to Emmaus in the Breaking of the Bread. He is truly present with us today in the celebration of His Blessed Sacrament – to whom we ascribe all honour, might, majesty, and dominion this day and evermore. Amen.

2010-09-24T16:09:00.002-04:00

Sermon for the Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
September 26, 2010

As most of you know last Sunday morning my mother and father received news of the death of Virginia Foxworth Jacks. Virginia was killed in an automobile accident following the Auburn/Clemson football game last Saturday night; some friends were giving her a ride back to her car and she died less than a mile from getting there. She was the daughter of Kevin and Ginger Jacks and older sister to two brothers. Her grandmother is Patty Williams who is my godmother and high school classmate of my parents. Earlier this spring Patty’s husband, Jesse died of a massive stroke, and she also lost her brother Jim about a month ago. One can’t help but be left with questions such as, “How much more can this family take?” “Why was Virginia’s life seemingly cut so short?” “Where is God in all of this?”

If we’re truly human, I’m certain that there have been times when we’ve encountered a situation in which questions like these and others come to mind, and we ultimately have to wrestle with life as we are called to live it.

On my way home from church last Sunday morning, I called Virginia’s uncle Kirby, one of my high school classmates, fraternity brother, and good friend to let him know that we were thinking of him and his family and to be assured of our prayers. He told me that he had spoken to some of Virginia’s friends who had been with her at the game, and she was beaming with excitement at just being there and how perfect the day was. However, she said that the day would have been complete if she could have been sharing it with her grandfather, Jesse. Wow! As was her way, Virginia was always exulting in others. She didn’t want to just enjoy the football game, she wanted to share that joy with someone else, someone she loved and adored, her grandfather that she said goodbye to earlier this year.

In our Gospel lesson we hear those hard words from Jesus where he admonishes us all, “For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” To be honest, those are perhaps the hardest words from the Gospel to hear because they cut us all completely to the chase. No one is exempt from the sin of pride, and C. S. Lewis says quite clearly in Mere Christianity:

There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people except Christians ever imagine that they are guilty themselves….There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others.

Well, that just about cut me down to size!

If I were in a courtroom standing before the judge right now, and that accusation were leveled against me, all I could do is hang my head in shame, and mutter the words, “Guilty as charged, your honor.”

Catholic philosopher, Peter Kreeft puts it this way, “Pride is the greatest sin. It comes not from the world or the flesh but from the Devil. It comes from hell. It was the Devil’s original sin, perhaps the only sin possible for a pure spirit. (Hell’s work is purely spiritual, you know; Hell cannot produce a single atom of that blessed creation of God, matter.)”

In our service of Holy Baptism, the first question asked of the parents and godparents is this, “Dost thou, therefore, in the name of this Child, renounce the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of the world, with all covetous desires of the same, and the sinful desires of the flesh, so that thou wilt not follow, nor be led by them?” To which the answer, “I renounce them all; and, by God’s help, will endeavor not to follow, nor be led by them,” is given.

Before the blessing of the water, we offer the following prayer, “Grant that he may have power and strength to have victory, and to triumph, against the devil, the world, and the flesh.”

After the candidate is baptized, he is signed with the cross and the following words, “WE receive this Child (or person) into the congregation of Christ’s flock; and do *sign him with the sign of the Cross, in token that hereafter he shall not be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, and manfully to fight under his banner, against sin, the world, and the devil; and to continue Christ’s faithful soldier and servant unto his life’s end.”

Holy Scripture declares that the Devil is the Father of Lies, and his whopper is the sin of pride that finds its way into each of our lives. Pride is chief of vices because it dislodges God from His rightful place and attempts to elevate Man to a place he is not destined to be. It attempts to undo the first commandment.
So what is our remedy? How do we confront this demonic influence that affects all, and discriminates against none?

One place to turn is the fifth chapter of St. Matthew in which we hear the following words, “JESUS seeing the multitudes, went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him: and he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying, Blessed are the poor in spirit: for their's is the kingdom of heaven.” Each of the beatitudes can be seen as an antidote or rather, an antithesis of the seven deadly sins. How fitting that the greatest vice is confronted by the first virtue mentioned by our Lord – humility. We are not to understand poverty in spirit to mean empty, void, vacuous, but rather in the sense that the only source for their filing is God alone. It is the complete recognition that we are incapable of effecting the very change we wish to enact. We are stuck and we cannot do it on our own. As we pray in the Season of Lent, “ALMIGHTY God, who seest that we have no power of ourselves to help ourselves; Keep us both outwardly in our bodies, and inwardly in our souls; that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Our daily activity must be the constant pleading for the indwelling of God’s Spirit that we might be given the weapons to withstand the assaults that come our way.

In reading the wonderful words that many have written in the days since Virginia’s death, it certainly seems like this was a prayer that she prayed every day.

“Thank you for being an example of Christ. I now see what it’s like to have pure joy.” McCoy E.

“I told someone about you last night. It was the first time I had ever mentioned Christ to a stranger.” Avery D.

“I know it is kind of late to leave you a message but oh well. I didn't know you very well, but that doesn't mean I have not cried my eyes out during the past few days. Your death has taught me so much. I have never understood how God could be glorified through unreasonable death, however I get it now. Virginia, you are ...the prime example of what a Christian should be. You shined with Christ and set a perfect example to everyone with just your smile. My life has been changed for the better in the past few days and I have only God's example through you to thank. I love you so much and cannot wait for the day when we are both in heaven praising our Father.” Sarrah W.

“This morning, at about 4:45, I turned over in my bed and something woke me. It was the moon. But it wasn't the same...it was so bright and full of life...just like you. And as I layed there I started thinking, this was you watching over us. The moon was so beautiful and so bright it couldn't just be normal. You haven't left my mind a second this week, and I doubt you ever will. Thanks for watching over us as we slept last night. Love and miss you always.” Brett C.

Finally, in Virginia’s own words that she penned not too long ago, "I have to remind myself all the time, that God is the only thing that will make me happy! It's so important that we strive everyday to have a closer and deeper relationship with the Lord."

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. May we have such a poverty of spirit, filled with God’s grace, mercy, and abundance, that we might know blessings of God’s kingdom both now and ever more. Amen.

******Quotations are from the facebook page of Virginia Jacks or In Memory of Virginia Jacks*******

2010-09-18T22:24:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
September 19, 2010

Leave me alone, I’m having a pity party!

You can take your pity somewhere else, I certainly don’t need it!

What a pity about John.

Whenever we think of the word pity, it almost always has connotations such as these. It seems like we have turned the notion of pity into something to be avoided. Even in instances where we speak of pity from a compassionate perspective there is a hollowness there, and it almost seems like we use that word when we don’t have anything else to say.

This is one of those situations where the use of a word needs to be defined further in order for us to understand its meaning within a particular context. Let me give you another example.

One of the most familiar collects in the Prayer Book is one that I use frequently when opening vestry meetings, classes, etc. I know that many other priests use these words as well, “Direct us, O LORD, in all our doings with thy most gracious favor.” You could probably finish the collect with me because its beauty speaks so clearly and sets such a wonderful tone for any gathering of the church. However, in the original version of the collect instead of the word ‘Direct’ the word ‘Prevent’ was used to begin. If you look in your Prayer Book the collect for next Sunday will use that same word again in speaking of God’s grace. In this context the word ‘prevent’ means to precede or go ahead of. That makes total sense when you look at both of those instances because we should pray that God’s mercy should go ahead of us like a light unto our path or that God should precede us in all that we do.

We certainly encounter a similar situation when we come across the word pity in this morning’s collect. It doesn’t seem logical that a word like pity makes sense when speaking of cleansing and defending the Church. However, the ancient Church knew what she was doing when she used the word pity in the collect for today that was penned many centuries ago.

First, I thank that we actually need to grasp the notion of pity used here. It is not something condescending or belittling. There is a tremendous depth here that might otherwise go unnoticed. The prayer itself is actually seeking the Lord’s pity. It is something that we are to actually long for and eagerly await. In those few sentences at the beginning of the sermon, pity as we know it is the last thing that we would ever want or actually pray for. Yet, here we are asking for that very thing.

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, the phrase “miserable offenders” was removed from the General Confession in Morning and Evening Prayer in the ’79 Prayer Book. What a tragedy because the root of the word miserable has a link to the word mercy, and what could be longed for and sought after more than the grace and mercy of Almighty God? Our acknowledgment of our true condition before God as miserable offenders is the recognition that we need and therefore seek God’s forgiveness and mercy.

The exact same thing is happening here in our petition to God for pity. As we think of pity, it is purely an emotion in most cases. Certainly there are times when pity leads us to some sort of action, but most times it is purely on an emotional level. With God, asking for pity in not just a plea for sympathy but it always leads to action. It does so because of this posture begins to get the order correct – we are in dire need of pity and God’s pity is the only thing that leads to life and hope. It whittles away at the very corrupt nature that we’ve all inherited and is part of the process known as sanctification or the striving toward holiness.

Our Epistle and Gospel lessons both bear this out.

St. Paul in his Epistle to the Ephesians exhorts them not to faint or despair or lose heart because of the persecution that he is enduring on account of the Gospel. In essence he is telling them that I don’t want your pity in a 21st Century context, but rather, he urges them to exalt in the glory that this theirs whenever the same befalls them. And befall them it certainly will.

That same persecution is going to come our way as well. We too are going to be ridiculed and admonished by this world for daring to proclaim as Lord the Eternal Word of God, Jesus Christ. Relative truths are the norm today, and the slings and arrows of narrow-mindedness and being called unenlightened are coming our way, and you’d better bet your life on it.

Who are we to have the audacity to say that someone else is wrong? After all, aren’t we all fraught with our own besetting sins and weaknesses? Yes, we are, but I hope and pray that every day of our lives we fall on our knees and beg God for His pity as we seek to serve and follow him.

After all, our Lord was never afraid to call people to task for who they were, and the way they were living their lives. The word that Jesus used was metanoia, and it literally means to turn around and go in another direction. Our life, “following the devices and desires of our own hearts,” is a dead end trail, and that is why our humble confession is a plea for help in turning around and going about things in a different manner.

Our Gospel lesson is the tells the story of the widow of Nain who has lost her only son, and now finds herself in the desperate position of widow with no male children to attend to her welfare. As our Lord encounters the funeral procession we hear that he has compassion on her, touches the bier, the procession stands still and her son is raised to new life. A few weeks ago we encountered that same word used here for compassion, and this is the type of emotion that leads to action. It lead our Lord to action in the healing of the only son of a widowed woman. It should be the same thing that leads us to action as well.

The same pity that we seek from Almighty God for the cleansing and defense of the Church should be what drives us into His service as well. We don’t simply profess a passive faith that requires no work, but rather a living and active faith that leaves us forever changed, empowered for service and work for the Spread of our Lord’s Kingdom.

The Epistle of St. James declares with clarity, “But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves. For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was. But whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed. If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain. Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.”

How appropriate that these words from St. James might be used to accompany our lesson from St. Luke concerning the healing of a widow’s son. He sees this as essential work because we are commanded to ensure that those who are the most vulnerable hear the Good News and that they are not left as a people without hope. The fundamental message of the Gospel is that we are all vulnerable, we are all in need of that sense of compassion from Jesus Christ, and we need to hear and proclaim those self-same words every day of our lives. For we all share in the same fundamental need to receive and then to share the pity the both cleanses and defends the very Church that our Lord gave his very body to redeem and purchase for his own. May we hear and do that which our Lord commands.

2010-09-04T15:52:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
September 5, 2010

There are four hymns in the 1940 Hymnal attributed to poet William Cowper. Cowper lived in England all of his life in the eighteenth century, and was a contemporary of John Newton, the author of the hymn Amazing Grace. In looking at the three hymns of Cowper’s in the 1982 Hymnal, I realized that even though I had heard his name before, I didn’t recognize any of them as ones I had ever sung. I’ll try and rectify that since his poetry is so beautiful and the lyrics quite powerful. However, neither the 1940 nor the 1982 hymnals contained the following hymn that bears a striking resemblance, most notably the last verse or chorus, with our collect for this morning.

No strength of nature can suffice
To serve the Lord aright
And what she has, she misapplies,
For want of clearer light.

How long beneath the Law I lay
In bondage and distress
I toiled the precept to obey,
But toiled without success.

Then to abstain from outward sin
Was more than I could do
Now if I feel its power within
I feel I hate it too.

Then all my servile works were done,
A righteousness to raise
Now, freely chosen in the Son,
I freely choose His ways.

What shall I do was then the word,
That I may worthier grow?
What shall I render to the Lord?
Is my inquiry now.
Chorus: To see the Law by Christ fulfilled,
To hear His pardoning voice,
Changes a slave into a child
And duty into choice.

If you look at page 209 of the Prayer Book I think you’ll see what I’m talking about. Our collect, which almost seems more suited for the Sunday before Lent when we hear the 13th Chapter of I Corinthians as our Epistle Lesson, begins with an appeal to God for an increase in faith, hope, and charity. This ancient collect does not draw any distinction between the three cardinal virtues, and seeks God’s gift of an abundance and increase of all three. As you recall from St. Paul, he says that the greatest of the three is charity, which of course true. St. John declares with conviction and clarity that God is love, and that above all else love of God and love of neighbor encapsulates the Gospel mandate of sharing the Good News throughout the whole world. It’s no mistake or coincidence that we would hear these words just one week after we heard the story of the Good Samaritan preceded by the Summary of the Law. It was with great care and precision that the early church framed the lectionary as you see printed in your Prayer Book. This sequence tells the story year-after-year in an ordered and concise fashion.

The collect’s petition that we seek is one that starts a sequence in motion for the ordering and living of our lives as disciples of Christ. For after we seek, and through prayer and supplication we begin to receive an increase of faith, hope, and charity, two things can begin to happen. First, we begin to receive a heart that is forever changed, and as William Cowper proclaimed in his hymn, “To see the Law by Christ fulfilled, To hear His pardoning voice, Changes a slave into a child And duty into choice.” No longer are we called slaves but sons of God, and what is seen as duty is transformed into choice. Second, we begin to comprehend the mysteries that lie ahead of us as we await the promises that God intends for us to enjoy. The nice thing about this second piece is that it isn’t just something we wait for on the other side of eternity. If that were so, our Lord would never had told to us to pray for our Father’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. There are pieces of those promises that are ours to enjoy in this life.

What makes this collect and the words of William Cowper so hard to comprehend is the thought of making obedience to the Law something to be enjoyed rather than a burden. This doesn’t make sense. Rules are supposed to be oppressive and something we hate aren’t they? I know for an absolute fact that school zones are the bane of my very existence. I’m sorry, and I hate to admit it, but I have somewhere I need to be, and school zones, and school buses with lights flashing brings out the exact opposite of charity in my mind. I realize this is an overly simplistic example, but it is one in which the law is seen as a burden rather than an opportunity. I could more appropriately use that time as an opportunity to give thanks for the children who will have or have had the opportunity to learn, for the teachers who give selflessly of themselves to teach, to the drivers who make sure that our children arrive at school and get back home safely each and every day. That would be an example of charity breeding charity. A simple change on my part would lead to an opportunity for prayer and thanksgiving, which would in turn lead to an increase of charity. The law that I would originally despise becomes a vehicle for prayer.

What are the areas in our own lives in which the law is continued to be seen as a barrier to charity? It is certainly something to ponder.

With this in mind, how might our Gospel lesson of the healing of the ten lepers bear this out? We heard a few moments ago a familiar story of the healing of a group of ten lepers who were considered the outcasts of society. A leper in that day and age could not come anywhere near someone who was “clean” and they lived their entire lives with a label as they would go through the streets crying out for all to hear that they were “unclean.” This was to ensure that those who were not afflicted with this skin disease would not inadvertently get to close and contract it. The only comfort a leper could enjoy would be the company of other lepers with whom they could congregate and commiserate. A group of lepers encounter Jesus as he was journeying toward Jerusalem and make a simple cry for mercy. We certainly don’t know what kind of mercy they hoped to receive, but if nothing else, they cried out for the very thing that they and we need to seek each day of our lives. They asked for and received mercy. In our collect, their simple cry was an embodiment of the first two theological virtues – faith and hope. They had some sense of faith and hope that calling out to Jesus, Master, something might just happen. They went out on a limb as we are called to do.

Then Jesus does something most remarkable. He doesn’t enter into a discussion with them; he doesn’t touch them; he doesn’t tell them they are healed; he tells them to go and show themselves to the priest. He has just interjected a portion of the law. Only a priest could examine someone who was ritually unclean and issue a proclamation that they were now considered clean and could return to the fellowship of society. Why does he do this? This seems so out of place and strange.

I believe he does this to show that the keeping of the law is still important; it is still a part of our lives as his disciples. He wants us to make sure that we don’t think that we can simply bask in God’s grace without understanding its depths and implications. It’s almost like the adage that says, “I like to sin, and God likes to forgive, that seems like a pretty good arrangement to me!” It doesn’t work that way.

So Jesus sends these lepers away to go and show themselves to the priest. The Scripture even says that they went away and as they went they were cleansed. What faith and hope that they would not question what they were asked to do. Not exactly the same as when Naaman was asked to bathe in the Jordan River seven times by Elisha.

Then we come to the portion of this story when duty becomes a choice, and something for which we rejoice rather than wish to reject. One leper, a Samaritan, who recognizes what has just happened turns back and falls on his face in thanksgiving and adoration for the gift he had just received. In some way, this Samaritan who was already the outcast of outcasts, returns in a spirit of joy to our Lord and thanks him for the gift he had just received. In actuality, he received two gifts if not more that day. In a physical sense he was given his life back. At a deeper level though he was given the opportunity to worship God as a changed person. Going to show himself to the priest wasn’t a burden, but a joy. He wasn’t going to be admonished for his condition as an outcast, but to receive the proclamation that he had received healing.

Oh that we might come in that same manner to our Lord’s Table. That is why the Confession of Sin and priestly absolution are where they are in the service, and why they are there at all. Hopefully we approach that part of the service like the lepers with the only appropriate words on our lips, Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner. Then, and only then, can we fully appreciate and understand the words, “have mercy on you, pardon and deliver you from all your sins, confirm and strengthen you in all goodness.” These words ring hollow if we fail to understand the words grace and mercy.

The message of the Gospel should first reduce us to “jelly” as Dr. Paul Zahl once said. The 1979 Prayer Book removed the words, “miserable offenders” from the Confession in Morning and Evening Prayer. What a terrible omission because the only way that we can ever come to grips with what grace and mercy mean is if we come to recognize who we are in that light. Only when we have been reduced to jelly can we then begin to lift up our heads and cry out to Jesus our Master and say have mercy on me. We have received the promise that when we come in a posture such as this that our Lord does show us both His grace and mercy.

That showering of grace and mercy then begins a process that is called sanctification. It is where we see pleasing God as something that we look forward to out of profound thanks for what he gives to us. Only when we ask for an increase of faith, hope, and charity can we begin to see this change begin to take shape. When this change begins, the cycle continues moving us closer and closer to the person that we were created to be. And then as William Cowper declares, “To see the Law by Christ fulfilled, To hear His pardoning voice, Changes a slave into a child And duty into choice.” Lord Jesus our Master, have mercy on us, and help us to see our duty to serve and follow you as a choice that we willingly embrace, and strive to embody each and every day of our lives.

2010-09-01T15:07:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
August 29, 2010

Over the summer we took some time in our adult forums to look at some of the Church Fathers who helped shaped the theology, doctrine, and dogmas that we continue to uphold as catholic Christians even to this day. Even though we didn’t have a great deal of time to investigate each Father in detail, or study their works with care and precision, we did at least familiarize ourselves with these stalwarts of the faith, many of whom died for their belief in Jesus Christ. It was important work that we did in studying our history and where we came from, and some of that instruction continues with the parable we just heard.

With the exception of the Parable of the Prodigal Son, the parable of the Good Samaritan is equally as well known and preached upon. The two parables share a common thread in that Luke is the only Gospel writer to contain them. All three Synoptics contain the discourse which precedes the parable with the lawyer’s question. There is a noticeable difference in the lawyer’s question in Luke’s Gospel as opposed to the account in Matthew and Mark. As we heard a few moments ago, the lawyer stands up and asks Jesus, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” Our Lord then proceeds ask the man a question to which he replies with the summary of the law which we repeat at each and every celebration of the Holy Eucharist. In Matthew and Mark we have the man ask Jesus directly in somewhat different fashions, “What is the greatest commandment?” Jesus is asked a direct question, and he answers it. Do you see the difference in what we heard from the lawyer this morning? Jesus in typical Jesus fashion doesn’t answer the man’s question with an answer, but rather, answers his question with another direct question, “What is written in the law? How readest thou?” Jesus throws the question back on itself, and he wants the lawyer to search for the answer, because in actuality, the man knew the answer. However, the problem comes in the narrative that Luke supplies, “the man wanted to justify himself.”

OUCH! That stings because it certainly hits home for me and I’m sure does with you as well. How often does the sin of pride take hold, and we wish to justify ourselves before others? How often does the temptation to make ourselves look self-righteous, morally just, and Pharisaic in our keeping of the law? After all, isn’t this the parish which condemns the current social ills which plague our denomination and our nation as a whole? Aren’t we the church that takes a stand and says that abortion is sinful and abhorrent in the eyes of God; aren’t we the church that says that sexual activity outside the bond and covenant of Holy Matrimony is sinful and abhorrent in the eyes of God; aren’t we the church that dares to point out the inconsistencies in theology in the 1979 Prayer Book and seek to return to orthodox Anglican faith and worship in the use and propagation of the historic book as espoused in the 1928 Book of Common Prayer? Isn’t this the church that stands alongside a limited number of other parishes in calling out our bishop for his vote to confirm a partnered lesbian to be bishop in Los Angeles? Yes, we are that parish. But with that title comes the temptation to wish to justify ourselves and proclaim that our stands on certain positions are what define the Christian faith and life.

Certainly those points above are markers, and signs of the fruit that comes from our proclamation of the Gospel. The lawyer in our Gospel makes the same false assumption that we might be tempted to make when we think that resting on our laurels is all that matters. This man thought that all he had to do was live in some isolated state of obedience in which he never had to get his hands dirty, never had to come in contact with those whose lives were wracked with sin, never deal with those hurting, or lost, or without hope. Jesus then tells a parable in which he declares that that is not what the Saviour of the world came to do. The Messiah had come to seek and to save that which was lost, in every sense of the word lost.

I now come to the point to tie in of our study of the Church Fathers. I don’t believe that I had heard this explanation offered by Origen before as an interpretation of the Good Samaritan. Certainly Origen has been criticized for some of the things he taught, however, I believe his insight into this parable is most helpful and a splendid exposition of the Scriptures.

One important thing to keep in mind regarding parables, they are not allegories. The point of a parable is not to simply offer a one-for-one comparison. The word parable literally means to lie along side. There is a truth or multiple aspects of the truth that is being highlighted. That’s why in most cases, there is more than meets the eye when looking at a parable.

In one of his homilies, Origen puts forward the following.

"A certain one of the Elders, interpreting the parable, said that the man who went down is Adam; that Jerusalem means Paradise; Jericho, the world; the robbers, the enemy powers; the Priest stood for the Law; the Levite for the Prophets; the Samaritan for Christ. The wounds stand for our disobedience. The beast, the Body of the Lord. The common house (Pandochium), that is, the inn, which receives all who wish to enter it, is interpreted as the Church. Furthermore, the two denarii are understood are understood to mean the Father and the Son: the innkeeper, the Head of the Church, to whom the plan of the redemption and its means has been entrusted. And concerning that which the Samaritan promises at his return, this was a figure of the Second Coming of the Saviour."

I hope this helps us see the multitude of layers of interpretation that lie behind what at first glance seems fairly straightforward. One thing about this parable is the fact that it could be read quite literally, and tells a poignant story while standing on its own merit. I found new insights from this interpretation that opens areas for us to ponder as well.

Jesus is saying that setting our hope on the rote keeping of the law, and the admonitions of the prophets is not enough. There’s more to the Christian faith and life than just “walking the straight and narrow.” After all, even the Pharisees and Scribes did that, and I believe that Jesus didn’t have allot of use for their moralism, and disdain for their neighbor. That’s exactly why the posturing of the lawyer is so dangerous because it entrenches an attitude of us vs. them. It fosters the thought that there are others who fall outside the grace and mercy of God. It leaves us with the false sense of security that manifests itself in statements like, “at least I’m not like those folks” or “look at how pure, pristine, and holy I am.”

This is not Universalism by the way. There are those who will end up outside and find themselves spending eternity in hell. In C. S. Lewis’s work The Great Divorce, those who take the bus ride from hell to heaven choose to get back on the bus for the return ride. They are given a glimpse at paradise, and for each individual, the decision is not to stay, but return to the hell that they have made for themselves – the place where they can go and attempt to justify themselves. The people who fall outside the grace and mercy of God are those who outright reject it, and declare that they have no need of it; these are the folk who falsely declare that they have no need of a Saviour, and have no reason to change who they are or where they are heading.

Twice in the exchange between Jesus and the lawyer, he uses the word “do.” When the lawyer rightly answers and recites the passages from Deuteronomy and Leviticus, which make up the Summary of the Law, he is told that he has answered correctly and do those two things. At the end of the parable when the lawyer again correctly answers Jesus’ question, he is commanded to do as the Samaritan had done and show mercy to his neighbor. There is another command at this point in the story. Jesus says to Go, and do likewise. The keeping of the Summary of the Law pertains to the individual, and his own being. The showing of mercy requires action beyond the self. It means we have to go out into the highways and byways, as the master of the banquet declares, and seek to bring others into the feast. As with that same story the admonition is not to be overlooked. We are required to be wearing the garment fit for those in attendance. This is cyclical, and neither can be done in isolation. Showing mercy to others means binding up their wounds, bearing their burdens, and bringing them to the cross. It means meditating on the Summary of the Law, and how that is lived out here in Moultrie. It means continuing to be the beacon and witness of the Truth, and inviting others to join in that witness. It is an invitation to newness of life, in recognition that the Good Samaritan continues to have compassion upon us who still fall among thieves and robbers, who lie half-dead upon the way, who stoops down when others have passed by to clean our wounds by pouring on oil and wine, who bears us upon his back and helps us get inside Holy Mother Church telling the innkeeper to do whatever is necessary to return us to health and spare no expense, because if it costs more, I will be returning and whatever you spend, I will repay. That is a message of hope, and it is a message that needs to be heard by us, as much as it needs to be shared.

2010-08-22T19:23:00.001-04:00

Sermon for the Proper 16 RCL
St. James Lutheran Church – Brunswick, GA
August 22, 2010

I want to thank Pastor Webb for the invitation to join you this morning to celebrate the Sacrament of Holy Baptism of Grant Brian Coolidge, and the opportunity to preach within the context of this glorious service. To Kim and Carl, I extend my most profound gratitude to you in asking me to share in this even in your lives as we welcome Grant into the Body of Christ – the Church. It is a sacred moment that we share together as the gathered body of the faithful believers to take part in one of the two direct commands of Jesus. In the church we celebrate and most highly regard the two Dominical Sacraments – Holy Baptism and the Holy Eucharist. These two were directly instituted by Christ himself, and He commands us to continue to celebrate them in our common life together.

In this service today we incorporate them both, as a new member is formally and sacramentally brought into our midst, and as we come to be fed by our Lord’s most precious Body and Blood. For Carl, Kim, Cohen, Grant’s grandparents and extended family, and most directly the members of this parish, we are all charged with the awesome responsibility of seeing that Grant is instructed, nurtured, and framed in the faith that we have made on his behalf this morning, but one day will take for his own, and declare them as a mature professing believer. Then he will join with us and receive in faith the Blessed Sacrament of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. It is good and proper that we should hear those solemn vows of baptism again and reflect upon them to ensure that we not forget what our bounden duty is to ensure that Grant is brought up to live a life in the service and love of His Creator, His Redeemer, and His Lord.

Our Gospel lesson for today helps us see where this goes terribly wrong. When Pastor sent me the appointed lessons I noticed that this passage from St. Luke was new to the Lectionary. This particular story is one that most would be unfamiliar with outside a personal reading of Luke’s Gospel. This story is also unique in the sense that it is only found in Luke and the other three Gospels have no record of this healing miracle.

As we see from our text Jesus, as was his custom, was teaching in an unnamed synagogue on the Sabbath. Jesus was doing what a good Rabbi and teacher should do, take his place in the reading and expounding upon the Scriptures.

Into this unnamed synagogue there is an unnamed woman who has suffered from a spirit that has crippled her for eighteen years. She has been permanently hunched over and has not been able to stand up straight for almost two decades. As the King James version records, “[she] could in no wise lift up herself.” Please hold that thought in your mind as we continue in the story. We don’t know if anything was said or if there were any other exchanges between Jesus and the woman other than Jesus sees her.

What a wonderful line of Scripture. Jesus saw her. Jesus sees us as well. He sees us in all of our infirmities, in all our sinfulness, in all our raw humanity. Jesus sees us. He doesn’t just see us, He goes one step further, He calls us to Himself like He did the woman. Jesus said, you have not chosen me, I have chosen you. He made the first move. Jesus then goes even one step further and provides an escape route, with a source of healing and wholeness. So he declares to the woman that she has been loosed from her infirmity. He laid his hands on her and her condition immediately changed.

I almost hesitate doing this, but I really must point out a place where I completely disagree with the NRSV’s handling of verse 13. In the text you heard read and have before you it says that after Jesus spoke and touched her that the woman stood up. Most of the time the way the translators render a particular verb form there isn’t a significant shift in meaning, let alone a theological implication. In this case here, I think there is a most important part of the story that would otherwise go unnoticed. The verb in this sentence is actually in the passive voice, and if you dig deep, and think back to high school English and Grammar, I know for some that might be a painful experience, the passive voice means that the subject isn’t doing the action, but rather it is being acted upon by an outside agent. In this case, see if you don’t hear the difference. If we translate this as a passive we would have “and immediately she was made straight.” She didn’t just stand up, she was given the ability to stand up, and it came from outside herself. She was incapable of doing it on her own, she needed help from without, and guess what folks, SO DO WE!

We don’t possess of our own volition the ability to withstand the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil. That’s why we brought Grant here this morning. He comes here to receive that which by his nature he could not receive save through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. One of the prayers in the Lenten Season that we pray goes as follows:
ALMIGHTY God , who seest that we have no power of ourselves to help ourselves; Keep us both outwardly in our bodies, and inwardly in our souls; that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul.

Therefore, this morning, we come to receive again that which we cannot obtain on our own. We bring little Grant to receive cleansing from the stain of Original Sin through the waters of baptism, and we all come to receive the nourishment through our Lord’s shed Body and Blood. It is also appropriate that it be done in the Lord’s house.

As I mentioned earlier, here is the point in the story where things went totally wrong. The leader of the synagogue was indignant that Jesus would condescend to do work on the Sabbath, something that the Fourth Commandment strictly forbade.

This woman, presumably a member of the community, was doing the one thing that she was bidden to do on the Sabbath, be present in the worship of God. She was coming to the true place of healing, the only place where she might receive the gift of God’s Word proclaimed in her midst. Receiving a miracle was most certainly the last thing on her mind, and the Providence of God placed her in the path of His Son. The leader of the synagogue totally misunderstood the meaning of the word work. It was the most appropriate place for the woman to be healed and the most appropriate day for it to happen. Should not the power of God be revealed when the faithful are assembled to worship? Absolutely! That’s why it’s appropriate that we should assemble together in the Breaking of Bread, and in the admission of a Child of God into Holy Mother Church.

We’ve done good work here this morning. Through God’s Holy Spirit, we’ve started Grant on the path toward life, toward life eternal, toward life with His Creator and Heavenly Father.

When the woman who was set free from her infirmity, and was made straight she did the only thing that was meet and right for her to do – she worshipped God. Through the power of repentance, reconciliation, and amendment of life, we too are being set free from our infirmities as well, and are being set straight as we strive to be holy as our Father in Heaven is holy. In that light we too should imitate that woman from this morning’s Gospel and do the only thing that is appropriate in response, to come and worship Almighty God, to whom we honor, praise, laud, and glorify, both now and evermore.