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 We’d like to pretend that that is the stuff of old times and we don’t have to worry about this outdated topic.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.
Monday, March 21, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, February 28, 2011
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.******
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.******
Saturday, February 19, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, February 14, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
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!”
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!”
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.
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.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
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.
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.
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