Sermon for Trinity XXIII – Proper 28
St. John’s – Moultrie, GA
November 15, 2009
Several years ago a friend of mine gave me a copy of a teaching that The Rev. Dr. N. T. Wright gave at a church in Minneapolis, MN, after she discovered that I was a fan of Dr. Wright. As you might imagine if you’ve ever read any of Tom’s writings that the topic of his lecture was on the historical Jesus. He has been one of the most fervent supporters of the traditional teachings when addressing the question ‘Who was Jesus?’ or ‘Who is Jesus?’ as opposed to what I believe to be the heretical positions put forward by the Jesus Seminar and the likes of Marcus Borg and others. We’ll save a discussion of the Jesus Seminar for another day, but in the lecture that Dr. Wright presented, I came away with a description and interpretation of this morning’s Gospel that I think might help us all.
Passages like the one we just heard from St. Mark, sometimes called the little apocalypse, most likely gives us pause, and I’m sure we’ve been tempted to ask the question, “How do I understand what I’ve just read?” What is Jesus talking about when he speaks about a tribulation, and the sun being darkened, and the moon not giving off her light, and stars falling from heaven, and the powers of heaven being shaken, and the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory?
This is one of those passages of Scripture where we are actually required to use our brains, and think, and listen to the Spirit, and trust Him to discern what we are to read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest. This is one of those places where we really must understand the concept of multiple genres of biblical literature. As we know, the Bible is a collection of 66 books written as history, poetry, wisdom literature, parables, apocalyptic, visions, letters – I’m sure others could be mentioned as well. So in our passage from Mark 13, what are we working with? For some strains of Christianity, this passage is to be read as a literal sequence of events that either took place in the past, or will take place in the future. They see these events in an almost George Lucas or Steven Spielberg type fashion, and try to envision what that might look like.
Let me make a side note here. Please don’t hear me saying that I don’t believe that God isn’t fully capable of ordering all of these things to occur in the exact order that Jesus declares according to His Divine Providence. He absolutely can and could do so at any time that He desired. End of side note.
However, I find the explanation that N. T. Wright gives about this passage to be most helpful in gleaning what our Lord wishes us to hear.
“We need to learn how to read apocalyptic. One of my colleagues at Oxford used to put it this way in his lectures. If we read a Jewish text which says that the sun will be turned into darkness, and the moon will be turned into blood, and the stars will be falling from heaven, we know as a matter of genre that the next line will not read the rest of the country will have scattered showers and sunny intervals. This is not a cosmic weather forecast.”
Dr. Wright went on to tell the story about a cover picture on either a Time Magazine or The Economist that came out after the mid-term elections during the Clinton presidency, and the picture showed a piece of earth that had opened up with a great fissure with Bill Clinton stuck down in the chasm by his elbows and the title read, “Large earthquake in America, one president hurt.”
We use imagery like earthquakes, and we speak of earth shattering events to describe things of a cataclysmic nature – in an oxymoronic sense to prove our point. This cover uses imagery to refer to political events in order to explain their significance. If someone came across that magazine cover in 1,000 years, we would certainly hope that they didn’t really believe that there was a literal earthquake in Washington D.C. sometime toward the end of the 20th Century in which President Clinton was literally injured.
“In this passage that we heard this morning, our Lord is speaking about a time of great tribulation at the heart of which Jerusalem and the Temple will be destroyed and He as the prophet who has warned about these events will be vindicated. And the language of vindication is taken straight out of Daniel chapter 7 which is the Old Testament lesson that we will hear next Sunday.
When we look to the events of Good Friday through Easter, most of those very things which Jesus spoke of in our Gospel this morning did in fact come true.
All three Synoptic Gospels state that from the sixth hour until the ninth hour, while our Lord hung upon the cross, darkness covered the entire land. St. Luke goes so far as to say that the sun’s light failed. All three Synoptics record that the Veil of the Temple was torn in two from the top to the bottom. The word for torn there has a connotation of being forcefully rent in two. This veil was the large curtain which was the barrier in the temple into the Holy of Holies. The only person allowed into this region was the High Priest, and only once per year on the Day of Atonement when he would make the sacrifices for the nation. Think about the significance of this barrier being ripped open.
Matthew records that after Jesus’ death, “the earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city appearing to many.”
Matthew and Mark both record that the centurion who stood beside the cross declared that Jesus was the Son of God after witnessing what took place on that Friday afternoon almost 2,000 years ago.
Look at the way that Jesus describes the earth shattering events, both figuratively and literally, which would in fact happen to him. No, Jesus does come floating down to earth on a fluffy white cloud, but he bursts open the gates of hell, conquers the powers of sin and Satan, and establishes a way for everyone to enter into the saving embrace of His Heavenly Father. He established a means for us continue to receive the grace He intends for us in the Sacrament of His Body and Blood.
We heard in our Collect this morning that our Lord has caused ALL Holy
Scripture to be written for our learning. Our church has certainly gotten itself into all kinds of trouble by missing that one word ALL. All of Scripture is given to us for our instruction, teaching and learning. It is given for us to hear, read, mark, learn and inwardly digest so that we might both embrace and hold fast that blessed hope of everlasting life. It is given to us so that we might have ears to hear and eyes to see all that God has in store for us both in this life, and in the life that is to come.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Sermon for Trinity XXII – Proper 27
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 8, 2009
There are a number of times that I often wonder how the framers of our lectionary decide what portions to keep, and what portions to exclude from our Sunday readings. For instance, this morning we skip the three verses which precede the lesson we just heard regarding Jesus and David, and how can Jesus be considered David’s son, when David called him his Lord? Perhaps since we do hear the parallel passage in Matthew in Lectionary Year A that it is skipped when it comes up in Years B and C when we read Mark and Luke’s Gospels.
This morning, I’m not so much concerned with the passage that is skipped in the Gospel as I am the first seven verses of the seventeenth chapter of I Kings. We don’t hear read very many of the events surrounding the prophet Elijah, but as a stage setter, I think these first few verses shed some additional light on the incredible faithfulness of one of the great prophets of Israel.
I Kings 17 begins with the following words:
1And Elijah the Tishbite, who was of the inhabitants of Gilead, said unto Ahab, As the LORD God of Israel liveth, before whom I stand, there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word. 2And the word of the LORD came unto him, saying, 3Get thee hence, and turn thee eastward, and hide thyself by the brook Cherith, that is before Jordan. 4And it shall be, that thou shalt drink of the brook; and I have commanded the ravens to feed thee there. 5So he went and did according unto the word of the LORD: for he went and dwelt by the brook Cherith, that is before Jordan. 6And the ravens brought him bread and flesh in the morning, and bread and flesh in the evening; and he drank of the brook. 7And it came to pass after a while, that the brook dried up, because there had been no rain in the land. (I Kings 17:1-7)
Look what we lose if we do not hear these words – we hear of Elijah’s heeding of God’s word and doing something that seems quite illogical. After Elijah prophesies to Ahab that there will be no dew nor rain until God opens up the heavens again, he is told to flee the area and hide. That’s not so hard to imagine because most of the prophets whenever they gave the people warnings that they didn’t want to hear would have to flee for their lives.
I’ve heard it said before, and I’ll share it with you as well, it’s never a good thing when a prophet shows up. The words of the prophets were never filled with accolades or encouragement. They were almost always filled with gloom and doom that is to come. When living on St. Simons, I was told of the time when Jim Cantore from the Weather Channel was doing a live broadcast from the pier. For those of you who watch the Weather Channel during hurricane season, you know full well that wherever Jim Cantore is, you don’t want to be there! He’s never reporting how calm the surf is, or how beautiful the sunset looks.
Getting back to Elijah, the strange thing that he hears is the fact that God tells him that he will receive water from the brook Cherith, and that the ravens will bring him food. I don’t know about you, but I almost wonder what was going through Elijah’s mind when he heard that he would depend on the birds for his daily nourishment. Of course, we never know if there was any hesitation or questioning on his part, we simply hear that “he went and did according to the Word of the LORD.” What a measure of faith that God’s mouthpiece would exhibit.
Yet, in light of Israel’s history, this isn’t so far-fetched. If we remember back to the time of the Exodus, God fed His people with “the bread of angels” which would appear on the ground each morning. When the Hebrews complained against Moses and Aaron, He was still faithful, and spoke to them saying:
12I have heard the murmurings of the children of Israel: speak unto them, saying, At even ye shall eat flesh, and in the morning ye shall be filled with bread; and ye shall know that I am the LORD your God. 13And it came to pass, that at even the quails came up, and covered the camp: and in the morning the dew lay round about the host. 14And when the dew that lay was gone up, behold, upon the face of the wilderness there lay a small round thing, as small as the hoar frost on the ground. 15And when the children of Israel saw it, they said one to another, It is manna: for they wist not what it was. And Moses said unto them, This is the bread which the LORD hath given you to eat. (Exodus 16:12-15)
Elijah of course knew his people’s history, and knew of the Exodus. He had no reason to doubt that the Lord would be faithful to him as He had to his ancestors before him.
I think it is important to have heard that introduction and background to help provide additional insight into our first lesson.
Both our Old Testament lesson and Gospel deal with the most vulnerable of people in the Ancient Near East. Widows had no income, no status, and were truly exploited if they had no male heir to advocate for them. In our lesson this morning, the widow that Elijah meets is preparing the last meal for her and her son. All her possessions have given out, and she is ready to confront the horrors that lie ahead.
What makes this story so remarkable is where it takes place. Elijah had been commanded to leave Israel and head to pagan lands. He meets this woman Baal’s backyard, where polytheism was rampant, and the God of Israel would not have been revered. Yet when Elijah gives the woman a command, she has some insight into who is speaking to her. When she is asked for some bread she tells Elijah, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug.” There is some semblance of acknowledgement that she is in the presence of someone special. That is further exhibited by her unwavering trust in his words that her supply of flour would never run out, and her jug oil would never go empty. For we hear that the woman, “went and did as Elijah said.” As we heard at the beginning of this chapter, “[Elijah] went and did according to the word of the LORD.”
In this first half of I Kings 17, we see both sides of the virtues of giving and receiving. The chapter opens with Elijah receiving from the Lord everything he needed as he was in hiding on the east side of the Jordan River. When he traveled to Zarephath he was then able to give a gift from the Lord to a widow who was in desperate need. The gift that she received was one that she in turn would share with her son. For our text says that, “she and he and her household ate for many days. The jar of flour was not spent, neither did the jug of oil become empty, according to the word of the LORD the he spoke by Elijah.”
As we turn to our Gospel, we hear of another widow and her most remarkable generosity.
Jesus sets the stage by his comments regarding the religious authorities who like to stand around in their long robes, and pray erudite prayers, and claim the best seats, and like to hear people call their names and use their titles. He says that these people not only exploit the widows, they actually, “devour their homes.” Quite a condemning statement from our Lord.
So Jesus and his disciples are sitting watching the goings on at the temple, and are seated opposite one of the gazofulakion. In this context this word is used to describe the receptacle mentioned by the rabbis to which were fitted thirteen chests or boxes, i.e. trumpets, so called from their shape, and into which were put the contributions made voluntarily or paid yearly by the Jews for the service of the temple and the support of the poor.
The widow is supporting the very group that should be supporting her. The religious authorities should be taking note that the very person who needs their help is doing all that she able to do her part, even if it seems quite insignificant. We don’t really have a good idea of how small her offering is unless we look at what these two copper coins were really worth. If we look at the Greek and the term that is used, the woman put into the treasury two lepta, which was the smallest and least valuable coins in circulation in Palestine, worth one-half of a quadrans or 1/128 of a denarius, or about six minutes of an average daily wage. In essence, this really was an insignificant amount of money.
Yet, Jesus said that her contribution was the largest of all placed into the treasury by everyone else. “With God, giving is weighted evaluatively, not counted. The widow was praised because she gave sincerely and at some cost to herself.” Our Lord says that she put in what she had to live on, everything she had. The widow that Elijah met gave to God through His prophet everything she had as well, and she was blessed for that gift. We never hear what happens to this widow in Mark’s Gospel, but we live with the assurance that what we give to for our Lord’s service will return to us according to our Lord’s good purpose.
We too are called to give back to God with that same sense of gratitude and trust. As our alms and oblations are presented at the altar we pray each week, “All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.” All that is ours is truly God’s. He entrusts us with a tremendous responsibility, and our duty is to return thanks in a like manner.
Elijah met a poor widow who was planning to die, and she gave all that she had back to God and His servant. Jesus and his disciples witnessed another widow giving back to God all that she had in the service of His temple. May we also return to the Lord the honor, glory, praise, and worship that is due his most Holy Name.
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 8, 2009
There are a number of times that I often wonder how the framers of our lectionary decide what portions to keep, and what portions to exclude from our Sunday readings. For instance, this morning we skip the three verses which precede the lesson we just heard regarding Jesus and David, and how can Jesus be considered David’s son, when David called him his Lord? Perhaps since we do hear the parallel passage in Matthew in Lectionary Year A that it is skipped when it comes up in Years B and C when we read Mark and Luke’s Gospels.
This morning, I’m not so much concerned with the passage that is skipped in the Gospel as I am the first seven verses of the seventeenth chapter of I Kings. We don’t hear read very many of the events surrounding the prophet Elijah, but as a stage setter, I think these first few verses shed some additional light on the incredible faithfulness of one of the great prophets of Israel.
I Kings 17 begins with the following words:
1And Elijah the Tishbite, who was of the inhabitants of Gilead, said unto Ahab, As the LORD God of Israel liveth, before whom I stand, there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word. 2And the word of the LORD came unto him, saying, 3Get thee hence, and turn thee eastward, and hide thyself by the brook Cherith, that is before Jordan. 4And it shall be, that thou shalt drink of the brook; and I have commanded the ravens to feed thee there. 5So he went and did according unto the word of the LORD: for he went and dwelt by the brook Cherith, that is before Jordan. 6And the ravens brought him bread and flesh in the morning, and bread and flesh in the evening; and he drank of the brook. 7And it came to pass after a while, that the brook dried up, because there had been no rain in the land. (I Kings 17:1-7)
Look what we lose if we do not hear these words – we hear of Elijah’s heeding of God’s word and doing something that seems quite illogical. After Elijah prophesies to Ahab that there will be no dew nor rain until God opens up the heavens again, he is told to flee the area and hide. That’s not so hard to imagine because most of the prophets whenever they gave the people warnings that they didn’t want to hear would have to flee for their lives.
I’ve heard it said before, and I’ll share it with you as well, it’s never a good thing when a prophet shows up. The words of the prophets were never filled with accolades or encouragement. They were almost always filled with gloom and doom that is to come. When living on St. Simons, I was told of the time when Jim Cantore from the Weather Channel was doing a live broadcast from the pier. For those of you who watch the Weather Channel during hurricane season, you know full well that wherever Jim Cantore is, you don’t want to be there! He’s never reporting how calm the surf is, or how beautiful the sunset looks.
Getting back to Elijah, the strange thing that he hears is the fact that God tells him that he will receive water from the brook Cherith, and that the ravens will bring him food. I don’t know about you, but I almost wonder what was going through Elijah’s mind when he heard that he would depend on the birds for his daily nourishment. Of course, we never know if there was any hesitation or questioning on his part, we simply hear that “he went and did according to the Word of the LORD.” What a measure of faith that God’s mouthpiece would exhibit.
Yet, in light of Israel’s history, this isn’t so far-fetched. If we remember back to the time of the Exodus, God fed His people with “the bread of angels” which would appear on the ground each morning. When the Hebrews complained against Moses and Aaron, He was still faithful, and spoke to them saying:
12I have heard the murmurings of the children of Israel: speak unto them, saying, At even ye shall eat flesh, and in the morning ye shall be filled with bread; and ye shall know that I am the LORD your God. 13And it came to pass, that at even the quails came up, and covered the camp: and in the morning the dew lay round about the host. 14And when the dew that lay was gone up, behold, upon the face of the wilderness there lay a small round thing, as small as the hoar frost on the ground. 15And when the children of Israel saw it, they said one to another, It is manna: for they wist not what it was. And Moses said unto them, This is the bread which the LORD hath given you to eat. (Exodus 16:12-15)
Elijah of course knew his people’s history, and knew of the Exodus. He had no reason to doubt that the Lord would be faithful to him as He had to his ancestors before him.
I think it is important to have heard that introduction and background to help provide additional insight into our first lesson.
Both our Old Testament lesson and Gospel deal with the most vulnerable of people in the Ancient Near East. Widows had no income, no status, and were truly exploited if they had no male heir to advocate for them. In our lesson this morning, the widow that Elijah meets is preparing the last meal for her and her son. All her possessions have given out, and she is ready to confront the horrors that lie ahead.
What makes this story so remarkable is where it takes place. Elijah had been commanded to leave Israel and head to pagan lands. He meets this woman Baal’s backyard, where polytheism was rampant, and the God of Israel would not have been revered. Yet when Elijah gives the woman a command, she has some insight into who is speaking to her. When she is asked for some bread she tells Elijah, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug.” There is some semblance of acknowledgement that she is in the presence of someone special. That is further exhibited by her unwavering trust in his words that her supply of flour would never run out, and her jug oil would never go empty. For we hear that the woman, “went and did as Elijah said.” As we heard at the beginning of this chapter, “[Elijah] went and did according to the word of the LORD.”
In this first half of I Kings 17, we see both sides of the virtues of giving and receiving. The chapter opens with Elijah receiving from the Lord everything he needed as he was in hiding on the east side of the Jordan River. When he traveled to Zarephath he was then able to give a gift from the Lord to a widow who was in desperate need. The gift that she received was one that she in turn would share with her son. For our text says that, “she and he and her household ate for many days. The jar of flour was not spent, neither did the jug of oil become empty, according to the word of the LORD the he spoke by Elijah.”
As we turn to our Gospel, we hear of another widow and her most remarkable generosity.
Jesus sets the stage by his comments regarding the religious authorities who like to stand around in their long robes, and pray erudite prayers, and claim the best seats, and like to hear people call their names and use their titles. He says that these people not only exploit the widows, they actually, “devour their homes.” Quite a condemning statement from our Lord.
So Jesus and his disciples are sitting watching the goings on at the temple, and are seated opposite one of the gazofulakion. In this context this word is used to describe the receptacle mentioned by the rabbis to which were fitted thirteen chests or boxes, i.e. trumpets, so called from their shape, and into which were put the contributions made voluntarily or paid yearly by the Jews for the service of the temple and the support of the poor.
The widow is supporting the very group that should be supporting her. The religious authorities should be taking note that the very person who needs their help is doing all that she able to do her part, even if it seems quite insignificant. We don’t really have a good idea of how small her offering is unless we look at what these two copper coins were really worth. If we look at the Greek and the term that is used, the woman put into the treasury two lepta, which was the smallest and least valuable coins in circulation in Palestine, worth one-half of a quadrans or 1/128 of a denarius, or about six minutes of an average daily wage. In essence, this really was an insignificant amount of money.
Yet, Jesus said that her contribution was the largest of all placed into the treasury by everyone else. “With God, giving is weighted evaluatively, not counted. The widow was praised because she gave sincerely and at some cost to herself.” Our Lord says that she put in what she had to live on, everything she had. The widow that Elijah met gave to God through His prophet everything she had as well, and she was blessed for that gift. We never hear what happens to this widow in Mark’s Gospel, but we live with the assurance that what we give to for our Lord’s service will return to us according to our Lord’s good purpose.
We too are called to give back to God with that same sense of gratitude and trust. As our alms and oblations are presented at the altar we pray each week, “All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.” All that is ours is truly God’s. He entrusts us with a tremendous responsibility, and our duty is to return thanks in a like manner.
Elijah met a poor widow who was planning to die, and she gave all that she had back to God and His servant. Jesus and his disciples witnessed another widow giving back to God all that she had in the service of His temple. May we also return to the Lord the honor, glory, praise, and worship that is due his most Holy Name.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Sermon for All Saints’ Day
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 1, 2009
One of the wonderful attributes of the Christian faith is the fact that our focus is always on what lies ahead. We are a people who live with the sure and certain hope that there is more to life than just what we live here on earth. We have been promised an inheritance, and a future that is more glorious, more incredible than we could ever imagine or comprehend. We live today knowing that everything good in this life will be eclipsed by something more remarkable in the life to come, and all of our challenges, hurts, disappointments, and trials are for our building up and growth.
This morning we celebrate one of the high feasts of our Church Year. We commemorate and celebrate the saints who have gone before us, and as our opening hymn states are now at rest from their labors here on earth. We celebrate this day each year in order that we never forget to make sure we look backward at those who have preceded us along this faith journey. This date has been on our Kalendar for 1,300 years when Pope Gregory III consecrated a chapel in the Basilica of St. Peter on November 1, in the first part of the eighth century. Gregory IV extended a church-wide commemoration of All Saints the following century.
The Gospel lesson appointed for All Saints’ Day is always the traditional hearing of the Sermon on the Mount. When we look at this particular piece of our Lord’s teaching, we certainly see the connection between those attributes that Jesus mentions and the lives of those godly men and women who now dwell upon the eternal shore.
There are two portions of the sermon that I wish to expand upon this morning.
The first point has to do with the setting of the stage for these three chapters in Matthew’s Gospel. It says in our text that when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on the mountain. One of the attributes of Matthew’s Gospel is its intentional linking back to the Hebrew Scriptures. One of the terms that Matthew uses almost exclusively is Son of Man in reference to Jesus, and those hearing it would immediately draw a link back to the Book of Daniel and other Old Testament references.
The physical location of this teaching within Matthew’s Gospel has the potential of conjuring up some of those same historical links. One of the terms many use in reference to Jesus is the new Moses, and of course the Law, the 10 Commandments were given to Moses by God upon Mount Sinai. Moses ascended a mountain as God commanded, and received the tablets of stone. Jesus now ascends a mountain, not to receive a new teaching, but to give one. The Law came down from a mountain by a human messenger, and this remarkable teaching from Jesus himself is going to come down from a mountain as well.
Blessed Saint Augustine speaks of the mountain in these terms, “If it is asked what the ‘mountain’ means, it may well be understood as meaning the greater precepts of righteousness; for there were lesser ones which were given to the Jews. Yet it is one God who, through His holy prophets and servants, according to a thoroughly arranged distribution of times, gave the lesser precepts to a people who as yet required to be bound by fear, and who, through His Son, gave the greater ones to a people whom it had now become suitable to set free by love. …With respect, therefore to that righteousness which is the greater, it is said through the prophet, ‘Thy righteousness is like the mountains of God:’ and this may well mean that the one Master alone fit to teach matters of so great importance teaches on a mountain. ”
The second attribute of the setting has to do with Jesus’ posture. We hear that Jesus sat down, and his disciples came to him. Seated would have been the natural position to teach and instruct, and this is noted in number of places regarding Jesus’ posture while instructing his disciples or the crowds. One of the features of an ordination, or confirmation, or any other service where the bishop is the celebrant is the addition of a bishop’s chair or cathedra, and many parts of the service take place with the bishop seated, rather than standing. This is a symbol of authority, and certainly Jesus’ posture portrays that authority. Again, St. Augustine expresses it this way, “Then He teaches sitting, as behooves the dignity of the instructor’s office; and His disciples come to Him, in order that they might be nearer in body for hearing his words, as they also approached in spirit to fulfill His precepts.”
As I mentioned at the beginning of the sermon, we as Christians live our lives in the present always mindful of what lies ahead. In the Sermon on the Mount there are eight statements that make-up the first portion that we commonly recognize as the beatitudes. The term beatitude comes from the Latin term beatus which means ‘blessed’ or ‘happy.’ If you don’t look at these eight statements closely, you might pass over the verb tenses. If you look with me at the text from your bulletin insert, pay attention to the verb tenses, and this leads me to my other point. The first and the last beatitude end not in a future expectation, but rather convey a present reality. Jesus does not say, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs will be the kingdom of heaven.” He says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs IS the kingdom of heaven.” Those who are poor in spirit, don’t wait for something to happen in the future, but are free to experience the riches and rewards of the kingdom here and now.
Augustine helps to define the poor in spirit when he writes, “And ‘the poor in spirit’ are rightly understood here, as meaning the humble and God-fearing, i.e. those who hath not the spirit which puffeth up. Nor ought blessedness to begin at any other point whatever, if indeed it is to attain unto the highest wisdom; ‘but the fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom;’ for, on the other hand also, ‘pride’ is entitled ‘the beginning of all sin.’ Let the proud, therefore, seek after and love the kingdoms of the earth; but ‘blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.’”
The eighth beatitude is a bit harder for us to hear. Our Lord says that kingdom of heaven is for those who will be persecuted for righteousness sake. Where do we ever come up with the idea that becoming a Christian means the end of persecution, the end of tragedy, the end of suffering, the end of any of the ills which confront each of us all the time? It certainly doesn’t come from Scripture. I can’t stand the “prosperity gospel” preachers out there who say if we just pray hard enough, just believe more, just think more happy thoughts, then all our troubles will disappear. Their Bibles must not contain the Sermon on the Mount. The Sermon on the Mount leaves us with the reality that life is going to present us with all of the challenges we can ever imagine. It confronts our comfort zone and says that we are going to we are in fact going to go through the “valley of the shadow of death.” But like the Psalmist says, “we will have no fear.” The beatitudes leave us with the hope that the kingdom of God is not just some future place, but is here now. Bishop N.T. Wright said that the, “Kingdom of God is not a place where God reigns, but it is the fact that God reigns.” I hope you see the huge difference.
So the first and last beatitude bring us full circle to the kingdom of heaven. Those who are poor in spirit are the people who recognize their utter dependence upon God – for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Those very same people accept the fact that that very poverty of spirit is going to lead to persecution for righteousness sake. However, in the back of their minds are the words of St. Paul when he tells the Roman church and us as well, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, ‘For thy sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, not powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:35-39).
May we continue to walk in the blessed fellowship of the saints who have gone before us. May we see in their lives their love for our Lord and Saviour. May we be the ones who are blessed both in this life, and in the life to come. May the light which shineth in each and every one of us all point others toward our heavenly Father, and His Son Jesus Christ our Lord who is the source of that one, true light, which is the light of the whole world.
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 1, 2009
One of the wonderful attributes of the Christian faith is the fact that our focus is always on what lies ahead. We are a people who live with the sure and certain hope that there is more to life than just what we live here on earth. We have been promised an inheritance, and a future that is more glorious, more incredible than we could ever imagine or comprehend. We live today knowing that everything good in this life will be eclipsed by something more remarkable in the life to come, and all of our challenges, hurts, disappointments, and trials are for our building up and growth.
This morning we celebrate one of the high feasts of our Church Year. We commemorate and celebrate the saints who have gone before us, and as our opening hymn states are now at rest from their labors here on earth. We celebrate this day each year in order that we never forget to make sure we look backward at those who have preceded us along this faith journey. This date has been on our Kalendar for 1,300 years when Pope Gregory III consecrated a chapel in the Basilica of St. Peter on November 1, in the first part of the eighth century. Gregory IV extended a church-wide commemoration of All Saints the following century.
The Gospel lesson appointed for All Saints’ Day is always the traditional hearing of the Sermon on the Mount. When we look at this particular piece of our Lord’s teaching, we certainly see the connection between those attributes that Jesus mentions and the lives of those godly men and women who now dwell upon the eternal shore.
There are two portions of the sermon that I wish to expand upon this morning.
The first point has to do with the setting of the stage for these three chapters in Matthew’s Gospel. It says in our text that when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on the mountain. One of the attributes of Matthew’s Gospel is its intentional linking back to the Hebrew Scriptures. One of the terms that Matthew uses almost exclusively is Son of Man in reference to Jesus, and those hearing it would immediately draw a link back to the Book of Daniel and other Old Testament references.
The physical location of this teaching within Matthew’s Gospel has the potential of conjuring up some of those same historical links. One of the terms many use in reference to Jesus is the new Moses, and of course the Law, the 10 Commandments were given to Moses by God upon Mount Sinai. Moses ascended a mountain as God commanded, and received the tablets of stone. Jesus now ascends a mountain, not to receive a new teaching, but to give one. The Law came down from a mountain by a human messenger, and this remarkable teaching from Jesus himself is going to come down from a mountain as well.
Blessed Saint Augustine speaks of the mountain in these terms, “If it is asked what the ‘mountain’ means, it may well be understood as meaning the greater precepts of righteousness; for there were lesser ones which were given to the Jews. Yet it is one God who, through His holy prophets and servants, according to a thoroughly arranged distribution of times, gave the lesser precepts to a people who as yet required to be bound by fear, and who, through His Son, gave the greater ones to a people whom it had now become suitable to set free by love. …With respect, therefore to that righteousness which is the greater, it is said through the prophet, ‘Thy righteousness is like the mountains of God:’ and this may well mean that the one Master alone fit to teach matters of so great importance teaches on a mountain. ”
The second attribute of the setting has to do with Jesus’ posture. We hear that Jesus sat down, and his disciples came to him. Seated would have been the natural position to teach and instruct, and this is noted in number of places regarding Jesus’ posture while instructing his disciples or the crowds. One of the features of an ordination, or confirmation, or any other service where the bishop is the celebrant is the addition of a bishop’s chair or cathedra, and many parts of the service take place with the bishop seated, rather than standing. This is a symbol of authority, and certainly Jesus’ posture portrays that authority. Again, St. Augustine expresses it this way, “Then He teaches sitting, as behooves the dignity of the instructor’s office; and His disciples come to Him, in order that they might be nearer in body for hearing his words, as they also approached in spirit to fulfill His precepts.”
As I mentioned at the beginning of the sermon, we as Christians live our lives in the present always mindful of what lies ahead. In the Sermon on the Mount there are eight statements that make-up the first portion that we commonly recognize as the beatitudes. The term beatitude comes from the Latin term beatus which means ‘blessed’ or ‘happy.’ If you don’t look at these eight statements closely, you might pass over the verb tenses. If you look with me at the text from your bulletin insert, pay attention to the verb tenses, and this leads me to my other point. The first and the last beatitude end not in a future expectation, but rather convey a present reality. Jesus does not say, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs will be the kingdom of heaven.” He says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs IS the kingdom of heaven.” Those who are poor in spirit, don’t wait for something to happen in the future, but are free to experience the riches and rewards of the kingdom here and now.
Augustine helps to define the poor in spirit when he writes, “And ‘the poor in spirit’ are rightly understood here, as meaning the humble and God-fearing, i.e. those who hath not the spirit which puffeth up. Nor ought blessedness to begin at any other point whatever, if indeed it is to attain unto the highest wisdom; ‘but the fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom;’ for, on the other hand also, ‘pride’ is entitled ‘the beginning of all sin.’ Let the proud, therefore, seek after and love the kingdoms of the earth; but ‘blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.’”
The eighth beatitude is a bit harder for us to hear. Our Lord says that kingdom of heaven is for those who will be persecuted for righteousness sake. Where do we ever come up with the idea that becoming a Christian means the end of persecution, the end of tragedy, the end of suffering, the end of any of the ills which confront each of us all the time? It certainly doesn’t come from Scripture. I can’t stand the “prosperity gospel” preachers out there who say if we just pray hard enough, just believe more, just think more happy thoughts, then all our troubles will disappear. Their Bibles must not contain the Sermon on the Mount. The Sermon on the Mount leaves us with the reality that life is going to present us with all of the challenges we can ever imagine. It confronts our comfort zone and says that we are going to we are in fact going to go through the “valley of the shadow of death.” But like the Psalmist says, “we will have no fear.” The beatitudes leave us with the hope that the kingdom of God is not just some future place, but is here now. Bishop N.T. Wright said that the, “Kingdom of God is not a place where God reigns, but it is the fact that God reigns.” I hope you see the huge difference.
So the first and last beatitude bring us full circle to the kingdom of heaven. Those who are poor in spirit are the people who recognize their utter dependence upon God – for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Those very same people accept the fact that that very poverty of spirit is going to lead to persecution for righteousness sake. However, in the back of their minds are the words of St. Paul when he tells the Roman church and us as well, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, ‘For thy sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, not powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:35-39).
May we continue to walk in the blessed fellowship of the saints who have gone before us. May we see in their lives their love for our Lord and Saviour. May we be the ones who are blessed both in this life, and in the life to come. May the light which shineth in each and every one of us all point others toward our heavenly Father, and His Son Jesus Christ our Lord who is the source of that one, true light, which is the light of the whole world.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sermon for Feast of St. Luke
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 18, 2009
There are many instances when I believe that we Americans got it right when we revised our Prayer Books and parted ways with the Mother Church of England. Certainly there were some fairly easy changes that absolutely had to be made such as prayers for George our King. After 1776 that really didn’t seem to fit too well any more.
When the colonies achieved independence from England, the American church had a slight problem in that she had no bishops to be able to ordain new clergymen. To further complicate matters, one of the requirements for ordination in the Church of England was the swearing of an oath of allegiance to the crown, and for newly elected bishop Samuel Seabury of New York, this was unacceptable. After a series of delays, Seabury was not discouraged, but rather, appealed to his ingenuity and headed north to Scotland where three nonjuring bishops consecrated him to the episcopate. In exchange for his consecration, Seabury promised them that he would utilize the Eucharist service from 1637 Book of Common Prayer from Scotland, rather than the 1662 book from England when the American church was crafting its first Book of Common Prayer in 1789. The Eucharistic canon from Scotland is much more Catholic in its theology, and that carries over into our American books as well. Even though the order is a bit different, the Eucharistic canon that we use every Sunday morning here at St. John’s is much closer in theology to the Church of Scotland than to the Church of England. Perhaps I’ve stumbled upon a Christian Education topic for later this fall!
In light of this morning’s collect, commemorating the Feast of the Evangelist St. Luke, I must tip my hat to the English version of the collect appointed for today as opposed to the one that appears in our American Prayer Books. Their version prays as follows:
ALMIGHTY God, who calledst Luke the physician, whose praise is in the Gospel, to be an Evangelist, and Physician of the soul; May it please thee, that by the wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered by him, all the diseases of our souls may be healed, through the merits of thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Two clauses within this collect stand out to me as a wonderful diagnosis of the human condition. The best thing about its diagnosis is the fact that it leaves us with a solution to our problem.
One of my heroes in Anglicanism is The Rev. Dr. Paul F. M. Zahl. Dr. Zahl was the Dean at the Cathedral of the Advent in Birmingham, AL, and Robyn and I had the opportunity to be parishioners of his when we were newly married and living in Birmingham. After leaving Birmingham he was Dean of Trinity School for Ministry in Ambridge, PA, and most recently retired as Rector of All Saints’ in Chevy Chase, MD. One of the books that Paul co-authored with Fred Barbee was a series of reflections on the Collects of Thomas Cranmer in honor of the 450th anniversary of the publication of the Book of Common Prayer. These reflections are a must own for Anglicans, and I will gladly share that title with any of you if you would like.
One of the things that Dr. Zahl would stress in his preaching and teaching was the fact that Jesus’ entire ministry was a teaching of law and then grace. He would always stop right there. One of the great temptations within some streams of Christianity is to get the original order correct, but then feel compelled to heap on more law. There’s only one problem with that. Jesus never heaped on more law, why should we?
What do I mean here?
As St. Paul expands upon most clearly in his epistle to the Romans, he fully understood that the more the law was preached, the more defeated he felt; he realized how far short he came to measuring up to God’s standards; actually, he says that the more the law came in the more he felt tempted to break it. Isn’t that the case with you and me?
As a child growing up, whenever my parents told me not to do something, the temptation to do just that entered my mind. It would have never dreamed of watching that particular television program, or reading that particular book, or whatever else they didn’t want to do. But just as soon as they said no, my mind said, why not? Why can’t I do that? What kind of fun will I be missing out on by not doing it?
The law comes in and increases that trespass that is within. The only way to overcome that trespass is through grace. Grace is the only thing that can change hearts, and minds, and wills. The law will never do it, and that is why the correct order and the only order that works is to preach the law, and then preach a Gospel of Grace, and leave it there.
From a practical sense, telling our children not to drink, or smoke, or have sex outside of marriage, or experiment with drugs, or any other vice doesn’t work if all we do is condemn them with a simple NO. We have to leave them with grace, and then let the Holy Spirit do his work in their lives.
Our collect this morning emphasizes just this, and does so in a most beautiful way.
It clearly portrays the human condition as one that is sick and in need of healing. The prayer acknowledges that our souls are diseased. Our souls actually are infected with a terminal illness for which there is no human cure. The prognosis is fatal.
However, the collect says that St. Luke proclaimed the “wholesome medicine of doctrine.” The doctrines that we believe and proclaim embody the very medicine that will help cure what ails us.
I can’t remember the number of times in our current church climate that I’ve heard someone say that we don’t have to worry so much about doctrine - we just need to leave that up to the theologians. There’s a major problem with that line of thinking. If you look at what the word theologian means, it includes each and every one of us. It’s not just those who teach at seminary or write massive volumes of work. The word theologian is the combination of two words which literally mean - the words of God. All of us who speak about God, or read about God, or speak to God are theologians. That means that doctrine had better be something we think about, read about, and pray about.
St. Luke has presented one particular Gospel record of the comfortable doctrines of our Lord Jesus Christ. These doctrines have been upheld by the Church for two millennia and shape who we are as Christ’s disciples. We submit our hearts, our souls, our minds to these teachings in order that we might know our Lord more each day.
One of the things about Anglicanism is the fact that we don’t have a confessional statement like the Lutheran Church which clearly states our official church doctrines. We don’t have a Magisterium like the Roman Catholic Church. What we have are our Anglican Formularies in the Book of Common Prayer, the 39 Articles, and the Ordinal. If someone says they want to see our doctrinal formulas, we show them our Prayer Book. When someone asked Paul Zahl that question, he would tell them to read the collects in our prayer book. Why would he ask them to do that? He did so because Archbishop Cranmer understood the Gospel in a wonderful way, and his gift to the church catholic is in the compilation of the collects that we still pray each and every day.
He completely understood that the Good News of Christ was the presentation of the law in all of its attributes, and then a presentation of the Grace of God. This coming week, I would suggest you take some time to read and pray the collects in our prayer book. As you are reading and praying them, notice their structure, and see if you don’t agree with me. The prayers and petitions we make to God acknowledge who we are as sinners, and then appeal to His grace and mercy. Then and only then can we have a heart open to hear what He commands, and then strive to live that out every day of our lives.
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 18, 2009
There are many instances when I believe that we Americans got it right when we revised our Prayer Books and parted ways with the Mother Church of England. Certainly there were some fairly easy changes that absolutely had to be made such as prayers for George our King. After 1776 that really didn’t seem to fit too well any more.
When the colonies achieved independence from England, the American church had a slight problem in that she had no bishops to be able to ordain new clergymen. To further complicate matters, one of the requirements for ordination in the Church of England was the swearing of an oath of allegiance to the crown, and for newly elected bishop Samuel Seabury of New York, this was unacceptable. After a series of delays, Seabury was not discouraged, but rather, appealed to his ingenuity and headed north to Scotland where three nonjuring bishops consecrated him to the episcopate. In exchange for his consecration, Seabury promised them that he would utilize the Eucharist service from 1637 Book of Common Prayer from Scotland, rather than the 1662 book from England when the American church was crafting its first Book of Common Prayer in 1789. The Eucharistic canon from Scotland is much more Catholic in its theology, and that carries over into our American books as well. Even though the order is a bit different, the Eucharistic canon that we use every Sunday morning here at St. John’s is much closer in theology to the Church of Scotland than to the Church of England. Perhaps I’ve stumbled upon a Christian Education topic for later this fall!
In light of this morning’s collect, commemorating the Feast of the Evangelist St. Luke, I must tip my hat to the English version of the collect appointed for today as opposed to the one that appears in our American Prayer Books. Their version prays as follows:
ALMIGHTY God, who calledst Luke the physician, whose praise is in the Gospel, to be an Evangelist, and Physician of the soul; May it please thee, that by the wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered by him, all the diseases of our souls may be healed, through the merits of thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Two clauses within this collect stand out to me as a wonderful diagnosis of the human condition. The best thing about its diagnosis is the fact that it leaves us with a solution to our problem.
One of my heroes in Anglicanism is The Rev. Dr. Paul F. M. Zahl. Dr. Zahl was the Dean at the Cathedral of the Advent in Birmingham, AL, and Robyn and I had the opportunity to be parishioners of his when we were newly married and living in Birmingham. After leaving Birmingham he was Dean of Trinity School for Ministry in Ambridge, PA, and most recently retired as Rector of All Saints’ in Chevy Chase, MD. One of the books that Paul co-authored with Fred Barbee was a series of reflections on the Collects of Thomas Cranmer in honor of the 450th anniversary of the publication of the Book of Common Prayer. These reflections are a must own for Anglicans, and I will gladly share that title with any of you if you would like.
One of the things that Dr. Zahl would stress in his preaching and teaching was the fact that Jesus’ entire ministry was a teaching of law and then grace. He would always stop right there. One of the great temptations within some streams of Christianity is to get the original order correct, but then feel compelled to heap on more law. There’s only one problem with that. Jesus never heaped on more law, why should we?
What do I mean here?
As St. Paul expands upon most clearly in his epistle to the Romans, he fully understood that the more the law was preached, the more defeated he felt; he realized how far short he came to measuring up to God’s standards; actually, he says that the more the law came in the more he felt tempted to break it. Isn’t that the case with you and me?
As a child growing up, whenever my parents told me not to do something, the temptation to do just that entered my mind. It would have never dreamed of watching that particular television program, or reading that particular book, or whatever else they didn’t want to do. But just as soon as they said no, my mind said, why not? Why can’t I do that? What kind of fun will I be missing out on by not doing it?
The law comes in and increases that trespass that is within. The only way to overcome that trespass is through grace. Grace is the only thing that can change hearts, and minds, and wills. The law will never do it, and that is why the correct order and the only order that works is to preach the law, and then preach a Gospel of Grace, and leave it there.
From a practical sense, telling our children not to drink, or smoke, or have sex outside of marriage, or experiment with drugs, or any other vice doesn’t work if all we do is condemn them with a simple NO. We have to leave them with grace, and then let the Holy Spirit do his work in their lives.
Our collect this morning emphasizes just this, and does so in a most beautiful way.
It clearly portrays the human condition as one that is sick and in need of healing. The prayer acknowledges that our souls are diseased. Our souls actually are infected with a terminal illness for which there is no human cure. The prognosis is fatal.
However, the collect says that St. Luke proclaimed the “wholesome medicine of doctrine.” The doctrines that we believe and proclaim embody the very medicine that will help cure what ails us.
I can’t remember the number of times in our current church climate that I’ve heard someone say that we don’t have to worry so much about doctrine - we just need to leave that up to the theologians. There’s a major problem with that line of thinking. If you look at what the word theologian means, it includes each and every one of us. It’s not just those who teach at seminary or write massive volumes of work. The word theologian is the combination of two words which literally mean - the words of God. All of us who speak about God, or read about God, or speak to God are theologians. That means that doctrine had better be something we think about, read about, and pray about.
St. Luke has presented one particular Gospel record of the comfortable doctrines of our Lord Jesus Christ. These doctrines have been upheld by the Church for two millennia and shape who we are as Christ’s disciples. We submit our hearts, our souls, our minds to these teachings in order that we might know our Lord more each day.
One of the things about Anglicanism is the fact that we don’t have a confessional statement like the Lutheran Church which clearly states our official church doctrines. We don’t have a Magisterium like the Roman Catholic Church. What we have are our Anglican Formularies in the Book of Common Prayer, the 39 Articles, and the Ordinal. If someone says they want to see our doctrinal formulas, we show them our Prayer Book. When someone asked Paul Zahl that question, he would tell them to read the collects in our prayer book. Why would he ask them to do that? He did so because Archbishop Cranmer understood the Gospel in a wonderful way, and his gift to the church catholic is in the compilation of the collects that we still pray each and every day.
He completely understood that the Good News of Christ was the presentation of the law in all of its attributes, and then a presentation of the Grace of God. This coming week, I would suggest you take some time to read and pray the collects in our prayer book. As you are reading and praying them, notice their structure, and see if you don’t agree with me. The prayers and petitions we make to God acknowledge who we are as sinners, and then appeal to His grace and mercy. Then and only then can we have a heart open to hear what He commands, and then strive to live that out every day of our lives.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Sermon for Trinity XVIII – Proper 23B
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 11, 2009
I’m not sure if anyone is like me in this regard, but I really don’t like passages of Scripture like the ones appointed for this morning! Blasphemy you might be saying. How can our priest say that he doesn’t like God’s Holy Word written, the basis upon which we have recorded the saving work of God through His Son Jesus Christ? The reason that I make a comment such as this is because I believe that this is one of those instances where I find myself squarely in the crosshairs of Jesus’ message and I know that He’s talking directly to me, asking me to take an inventory of my own life as His disciple. Let me expand on this a bit more.
This Gospel lesson from St. Mark is one that I am sure has troubled many a Christian over the years because of the topic it addresses – our money or finances. Let me put your fears to rest right now, I am NOT delivering a stewardship sermon on my second Sunday morning with you! However, I believe that there is a message here that reaches so much deeper than just finances.
This story, which has come to be known as the Story of the Rich Young Man, appears in all three Synoptic Gospels. This is significant in and of itself because the majority of the Gospel record has parallels in at least two Gospels, but there are far fewer that appear in Matthew, Mark, and Luke in almost identical form. This passage from Mark 10, and almost all of Mark 10 for that matter, is one of those instances.
I always find it interesting whenever I encounter a passage such as this one to look and see if I happen to notice any differences between the three versions that stand out, or might provide an insight that would go missing if it we didn’t have the different accounts. One of the interesting attributes of St. Mark’s Gospel is the fact that it is the shortest, and its action moves rather quickly from one situation to the next. Mark uses a literary technique peculiar to his Gospel through the use of the phrase, και ευθυς in Greek normally translated, “and immediately.” That one word ευθυς appears in the New Testament 60 times, and 41 of those times occur in Mark. Even though it isn’t always translated “immediately” the overwhelming majority of the times it is used in Mark is to signal a change or shift in the situation, and the story is moving toward its next event.
With that in mind, one would think that Mark’s Gospel would be somewhat light on the details in favor of brevity in order to keep things moving. However, there are several instances where Mark gives us some wonderful details that go lacking in either Matthew or Luke’s telling of the same story. In this story of the rich young man, Mark gives us three subtle points that he alone was inspired to record.
The first difference occurs right at the beginning of the narrative. Mark tells us that, “a man ran up and knelt before [Jesus].” Matthew says simply that a man came up to Jesus, and Luke records the story from the perspective of one of the religious rulers. Look at how differently Mark portrays the man in the story. Two things jump out right off the bat – the man runs to Jesus, and kneels in a posture of respect or adoration. Mark gives us these two insights, and thus, we must ask ourselves the question, why?
In one sense, I truly believe that the man here wanted to know if something was amiss in his life, was he doing something that might possibly hinder his soul in the afterlife. Was he missing something that he should have known, and was there something he could correct in his life?
On the other hand was the man doing what we often do, and that is, compare ourselves to others, or make statements such as, “well, I haven’t done anything really bad,” or “I’m not as bad as he is.”
This reminds me of a story I once heard about two brothers who lived in the wild west in the middle of the nineteenth century. The two brothers were known hoodlums and caused trouble wherever they went. Their reputation preceded them, and people often went in the other direction whenever they walked down the street.
One day one of the brothers died and the surviving brother went to the local minister and asked him if he would do his brothers funeral. Just to sweeten the pot, the brother said that he would deposit a check for $5,000 into the church’s bank account if he would do the service and at some time during the eulogy mention that the deceased brother was a saint. The minister thought about it for a minute and told the brother he would be glad to do the service for his brother.
The day of the funeral arrived, and surprisingly the church was packed simply to see and hear what might happen during the service. At the time for the eulogy the minister walked down and stood right in front of the casket and began with the following words:
“The man that lies before you was a crook. He was a liar, a cheat, a swindler, a womanizer, and an all-around sorry excuse for a human being. However, compared to his brother, he was a saint!”
This funny little story is only meant to prove one very important point – comparison to others for our goodness, or rather, our lack of badness, doesn’t work. Our comparison should be toward one standard and one alone. When we compare ourselves to that standard we come up woefully short, and then, and only then are we able to understand the concepts of grace, mercy, compassion, and love, in a new and redemptive light. Then we are able to seek God’s guidance and we seek to conform our lives and our wills toward His which is the only source of life and hope.
After the man responds to Jesus’ words that he had kept all of the commandments since his youth, Mark then gives us a glimpse into Jesus’ heart of compassion when he records in verse 21, “And Jesus looking upon him loved him.”
Two things can be gleaned from this phrase.
First, our Lord takes great joy with those who strive with all their faculties to keep His commandments. As the Psalmist says, “Blessed is the man whose delight is in the Law of the Lord.” God certainly loves anyone who seeks to do his will. There is an important point to note here. We do this as a response to what God, through Christ, has already done for us. It’s certainly not so that we can earn God’s favor. One of the last lines in the Eucharistic canon asks that God not weigh our merits, but rather pardon our offences. We will always come up short, but striving do to God’s will brings delight and joy to our Father.
Second, Jesus loves those who recognize that there is always more to be done, and wish to know his will more and more. Jesus says as recorded in Luke’s Gospel, that there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repenteth (Luke 15:10). He loves those who come with an open and penitent heart to hear what wonderful things He has in store for them and their lives.
However, as we know from the story, coming with an open heart, and heeding what God wishes and desires are two different things. The third difference coming in Mark’s Gospel comes at the end of our passage this morning. After Jesus tells the man that he needed to sell all that he had, give it to the poor, and come and follow him, Mark tells us that the man’s “countenance fell.” That term is used nowhere else in the Bible, and I think we all have a mental picture of what that might have looked like. I’m sure each of us can probably recall an instance when we knew we were caught, or we just heard something that we really didn’t want to hear, and our demeanors change and it spreads all the way across our faces.
The reason the man goes away sad and dejected is due to his large number of possessions, and couldn’t think of parting ways with them. The man was more tied to the things of this world rather than what Jesus had in store for him for all eternity. He could not do what the collect for fourth Sunday after Trinity asks, “that we might so pass through the things temporal that we finally lose not the things eternal.” The rich man confused the two, and lost the better portion.
How often do we also place security in our possessions, rather than in our Lord? I opened this sermon by saying I didn’t like passages like this one because I know that I’ve been found guilty, and come up lacking in God’s eyes. I recall any number of occasions that I have placed far too much stock in the things that won’t last instead of what I know in my heart to be the one thing that is most important.
I think it’s critical to truly hear what Jesus is saying here.
He is not saying that possessions are bad.
He is not saying that money is bad.
He’s not saying that being his disciples mean that we no longer use the gifts and talents that he has entrusted to us.
He is saying that we must constantly inventory our hearts and make sure that there is nothing there which hinders our walk with Him. He is saying that he wants to use those good things of this world with us to further the good things He has in store for His creation.
Don’t hear me say that this is easy because it isn’t. G. K. Chesterton once said that that the problem with Christianity is not that it’s been tried and found wanting, but rather it’s been found to be difficult and left untried. The man in our story couldn’t do it. Our Lord asks us is we have the courage to give him everything, trust Him with all that He has given to us, and follow Him wherever He leads us. If we have the courage to do so, the rewards will last forever.
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 11, 2009
I’m not sure if anyone is like me in this regard, but I really don’t like passages of Scripture like the ones appointed for this morning! Blasphemy you might be saying. How can our priest say that he doesn’t like God’s Holy Word written, the basis upon which we have recorded the saving work of God through His Son Jesus Christ? The reason that I make a comment such as this is because I believe that this is one of those instances where I find myself squarely in the crosshairs of Jesus’ message and I know that He’s talking directly to me, asking me to take an inventory of my own life as His disciple. Let me expand on this a bit more.
This Gospel lesson from St. Mark is one that I am sure has troubled many a Christian over the years because of the topic it addresses – our money or finances. Let me put your fears to rest right now, I am NOT delivering a stewardship sermon on my second Sunday morning with you! However, I believe that there is a message here that reaches so much deeper than just finances.
This story, which has come to be known as the Story of the Rich Young Man, appears in all three Synoptic Gospels. This is significant in and of itself because the majority of the Gospel record has parallels in at least two Gospels, but there are far fewer that appear in Matthew, Mark, and Luke in almost identical form. This passage from Mark 10, and almost all of Mark 10 for that matter, is one of those instances.
I always find it interesting whenever I encounter a passage such as this one to look and see if I happen to notice any differences between the three versions that stand out, or might provide an insight that would go missing if it we didn’t have the different accounts. One of the interesting attributes of St. Mark’s Gospel is the fact that it is the shortest, and its action moves rather quickly from one situation to the next. Mark uses a literary technique peculiar to his Gospel through the use of the phrase, και ευθυς in Greek normally translated, “and immediately.” That one word ευθυς appears in the New Testament 60 times, and 41 of those times occur in Mark. Even though it isn’t always translated “immediately” the overwhelming majority of the times it is used in Mark is to signal a change or shift in the situation, and the story is moving toward its next event.
With that in mind, one would think that Mark’s Gospel would be somewhat light on the details in favor of brevity in order to keep things moving. However, there are several instances where Mark gives us some wonderful details that go lacking in either Matthew or Luke’s telling of the same story. In this story of the rich young man, Mark gives us three subtle points that he alone was inspired to record.
The first difference occurs right at the beginning of the narrative. Mark tells us that, “a man ran up and knelt before [Jesus].” Matthew says simply that a man came up to Jesus, and Luke records the story from the perspective of one of the religious rulers. Look at how differently Mark portrays the man in the story. Two things jump out right off the bat – the man runs to Jesus, and kneels in a posture of respect or adoration. Mark gives us these two insights, and thus, we must ask ourselves the question, why?
In one sense, I truly believe that the man here wanted to know if something was amiss in his life, was he doing something that might possibly hinder his soul in the afterlife. Was he missing something that he should have known, and was there something he could correct in his life?
On the other hand was the man doing what we often do, and that is, compare ourselves to others, or make statements such as, “well, I haven’t done anything really bad,” or “I’m not as bad as he is.”
This reminds me of a story I once heard about two brothers who lived in the wild west in the middle of the nineteenth century. The two brothers were known hoodlums and caused trouble wherever they went. Their reputation preceded them, and people often went in the other direction whenever they walked down the street.
One day one of the brothers died and the surviving brother went to the local minister and asked him if he would do his brothers funeral. Just to sweeten the pot, the brother said that he would deposit a check for $5,000 into the church’s bank account if he would do the service and at some time during the eulogy mention that the deceased brother was a saint. The minister thought about it for a minute and told the brother he would be glad to do the service for his brother.
The day of the funeral arrived, and surprisingly the church was packed simply to see and hear what might happen during the service. At the time for the eulogy the minister walked down and stood right in front of the casket and began with the following words:
“The man that lies before you was a crook. He was a liar, a cheat, a swindler, a womanizer, and an all-around sorry excuse for a human being. However, compared to his brother, he was a saint!”
This funny little story is only meant to prove one very important point – comparison to others for our goodness, or rather, our lack of badness, doesn’t work. Our comparison should be toward one standard and one alone. When we compare ourselves to that standard we come up woefully short, and then, and only then are we able to understand the concepts of grace, mercy, compassion, and love, in a new and redemptive light. Then we are able to seek God’s guidance and we seek to conform our lives and our wills toward His which is the only source of life and hope.
After the man responds to Jesus’ words that he had kept all of the commandments since his youth, Mark then gives us a glimpse into Jesus’ heart of compassion when he records in verse 21, “And Jesus looking upon him loved him.”
Two things can be gleaned from this phrase.
First, our Lord takes great joy with those who strive with all their faculties to keep His commandments. As the Psalmist says, “Blessed is the man whose delight is in the Law of the Lord.” God certainly loves anyone who seeks to do his will. There is an important point to note here. We do this as a response to what God, through Christ, has already done for us. It’s certainly not so that we can earn God’s favor. One of the last lines in the Eucharistic canon asks that God not weigh our merits, but rather pardon our offences. We will always come up short, but striving do to God’s will brings delight and joy to our Father.
Second, Jesus loves those who recognize that there is always more to be done, and wish to know his will more and more. Jesus says as recorded in Luke’s Gospel, that there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repenteth (Luke 15:10). He loves those who come with an open and penitent heart to hear what wonderful things He has in store for them and their lives.
However, as we know from the story, coming with an open heart, and heeding what God wishes and desires are two different things. The third difference coming in Mark’s Gospel comes at the end of our passage this morning. After Jesus tells the man that he needed to sell all that he had, give it to the poor, and come and follow him, Mark tells us that the man’s “countenance fell.” That term is used nowhere else in the Bible, and I think we all have a mental picture of what that might have looked like. I’m sure each of us can probably recall an instance when we knew we were caught, or we just heard something that we really didn’t want to hear, and our demeanors change and it spreads all the way across our faces.
The reason the man goes away sad and dejected is due to his large number of possessions, and couldn’t think of parting ways with them. The man was more tied to the things of this world rather than what Jesus had in store for him for all eternity. He could not do what the collect for fourth Sunday after Trinity asks, “that we might so pass through the things temporal that we finally lose not the things eternal.” The rich man confused the two, and lost the better portion.
How often do we also place security in our possessions, rather than in our Lord? I opened this sermon by saying I didn’t like passages like this one because I know that I’ve been found guilty, and come up lacking in God’s eyes. I recall any number of occasions that I have placed far too much stock in the things that won’t last instead of what I know in my heart to be the one thing that is most important.
I think it’s critical to truly hear what Jesus is saying here.
He is not saying that possessions are bad.
He is not saying that money is bad.
He’s not saying that being his disciples mean that we no longer use the gifts and talents that he has entrusted to us.
He is saying that we must constantly inventory our hearts and make sure that there is nothing there which hinders our walk with Him. He is saying that he wants to use those good things of this world with us to further the good things He has in store for His creation.
Don’t hear me say that this is easy because it isn’t. G. K. Chesterton once said that that the problem with Christianity is not that it’s been tried and found wanting, but rather it’s been found to be difficult and left untried. The man in our story couldn’t do it. Our Lord asks us is we have the courage to give him everything, trust Him with all that He has given to us, and follow Him wherever He leads us. If we have the courage to do so, the rewards will last forever.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Sermon for Trinity XVII – Proper 22B
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 4, 2009
There are occasions for a preacher when the appointed lessons seem to be so perfectly matched. This morning’s lessons happen to be one of those times. However, when I read them, I asked myself a question – why this morning? Why this time in the Church Year?
I’m not really sure that I have an answer to the question why we hear them this time during the year, but I think that they are terribly important for us to hear, and also hear on this morning as we begin a new relationship together.
I wish to begin by saying how honored I am to have been called as your Rector. I am humbled to be standing in this pulpit and preparing to celebrate the Sacred Mysteries in a few minutes not as a supply priest, but in your midst as a servant and also as spiritual head of this wonderful congregation. My family and I very much look forward to the days, months and many years ahead.
In looking at our lessons this morning, there seem to be two matched themes which go hand-in-hand with one another. It certainly wasn’t difficult to pick up on the theme of marriage and divorce that is matched in the lessons from Genesis and Mark. The other theme is found in the link between Psalm 8 and Hebrews 2. The theme that comes out of those two lessons deals with mankind and how important we are as the pinnacle of God’s creation.
Certainly there are at least two separate sermons here if I were to speak just on marriage, or just on humanity in God’s eyes. However, I want to address these themes together and why I believe that these are appointed to all be read together.
For me, the place to begin with these Propers is with the Psalm. The Psalmist asks, “What is man that thou art mindful of him; and the son of man that thou visitest him?” That question is one of the most intriguing in Scripture, and certainly bears light to the theme which we heard from the Epistle to the Hebrews.
In our world of religious pluralism, relative truth, materialism, and any other “ism” you care to include it is an absolutely stunning thing to comprehend that God would come down from heaven and become a man, live and die as one of us, and be subject to every form of temptation and suffering as we do. One of the dogmas of our church states that Jesus had two natures – one completely divine, and one completely human. This dogma is crucial because it addresses two fundamental points for us as sinful human beings.
First, Jesus’ divinity addresses the issue that we believe in a God who is actually capable of saving us. If Jesus were not 100% divine how would he be able to save us? Only God is able to save us from our sins, and we affirm in all three of our creeds that Jesus is in fact completely God.
Second, Jesus’ humanity addresses the issue of what does Jesus save us from? N.T. Wright once said in a lecture that the fact that Jesus took on flesh, and lived as a man keeps us from manufacturing a Jesus who just seemed to move about 6” off the ground and never really got his hands dirty. This certainly isn’t the Jesus we read about in the New Testament, and it certainly can never be the person we worship as our Lord.
As the Epistle to the Hebrews declares, “Surely he did not help angels but rather the descendents of Abraham; therefore, he had to become like his brothers in every way, that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest before God to expiate the sins of the people. Because he himself was tested through what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.”
Jesus did not shun the Virgin’s womb and became subject to suffering in order that we too who suffer and struggle in our own lives daily.
The reason that I began by addressing the theme of mankind is so that the marriage theme would make sense in this context.
Not only does God in His infinite wisdom and grace become one of us, he does so with the intention of entering into a relationship with us so deep, so profound, and so mysterious as that of a marriage.
The opening lines of the service for the Solemnization of Holy Matrimony begins with the following: “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together the Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church…”
God gave the Sacrament of Marriage at the beginning of creation, and was actually instituted prior to man’s fall. Even in our innocence, as the marriage service from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer states, God gave us His intended ordering for all mankind with the union of one Man and one Woman in a sacred bond and covenant.
That sacred bond and covenant has been extended to us as well. Throughout the New Testament our Lord spoke of His relationship with mankind as a marriage between Himself, the Bridegroom, and us His bride, the Church. The spotless Bridegroom is forever waiting for his Bride. Throughout our lives we constantly strive for that holiness and sanctification that will make us ready to meet the Groom when the cry goes forth at midnight proclaiming that He has arrived.
I conclude with a short story that made it through my e-mail several months ago. Perhaps some of you saw it as well.
On a busy morning around 8:30am, a gentleman of around the age of 80 entered the emergency room of his local community hospital. He needed to have stitches taken out of his thumb, and did not have the money nor the insurance to cover a regular doctor's visit in order to do so. Yet, he seemed to be in a hurry, looking anxiously down at his wrist watch.
A young intake nurse on the floor noticed that he seemed rather nervous, and asked if he was in a hurry. "Yes," he said. "I have an appointment at 9."
The nurse took his vitals and asked him to sit out in the waiting room, knowing fully well that it would be a few hours before anyone could help him. Seeing that he was so preoccupied with the time, and since there were no other patients waiting to be checked in behind him, she decided to take a look at his wound. Upon examination, it was apparent that he had healed well. She talked to her supervising physican, asking for permission to go ahead and remove the stitches for him.
While removing the sutures and redressing the wound, she asked the gentleman if he had a doctor's appointment at 9.
"No," he replied. "I just need to go and see my wife at the nursing home for breakfast."
The nurse asked politely about her health, in a casual, conversational manner.
"Well," he said, "she has been there for some time now. She caught Alzheimer's, so I couldn't take care of her on my own anymore."
"Will she be angry with you if you are a little late?" asked the nurse.
"No, I guess not." he replied. "She doesn't even remember me anymore or recognize who I am. She has not known me for five years or so now."
The nurse was surprised to learn this information. She asked, "Yet, you still go to see her for breakfast every single morning, even though she has no clue who you are?"
He smiled at her in a knowing, wise way, patted her on the hand and said, "Yes honey. She may not know me, but I know her!"
Certainly there are times when our Lord continues to visit us when we don’t know or recognize Him. However, His faithfulness is the true source of hope that we can forever lean upon in our lives. Christ will never forsake those who call upon His Holy Name, for He has made a vow and covenant with us that He is who He says He is, and has done for us that which we are incapable of doing for ourselves. He has purchased for us an inheritance that surpasses anything we can ever imagine or comprehend; He bids us to say yes to His marriage proposal, and share that Good News with all.
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
October 4, 2009
There are occasions for a preacher when the appointed lessons seem to be so perfectly matched. This morning’s lessons happen to be one of those times. However, when I read them, I asked myself a question – why this morning? Why this time in the Church Year?
I’m not really sure that I have an answer to the question why we hear them this time during the year, but I think that they are terribly important for us to hear, and also hear on this morning as we begin a new relationship together.
I wish to begin by saying how honored I am to have been called as your Rector. I am humbled to be standing in this pulpit and preparing to celebrate the Sacred Mysteries in a few minutes not as a supply priest, but in your midst as a servant and also as spiritual head of this wonderful congregation. My family and I very much look forward to the days, months and many years ahead.
In looking at our lessons this morning, there seem to be two matched themes which go hand-in-hand with one another. It certainly wasn’t difficult to pick up on the theme of marriage and divorce that is matched in the lessons from Genesis and Mark. The other theme is found in the link between Psalm 8 and Hebrews 2. The theme that comes out of those two lessons deals with mankind and how important we are as the pinnacle of God’s creation.
Certainly there are at least two separate sermons here if I were to speak just on marriage, or just on humanity in God’s eyes. However, I want to address these themes together and why I believe that these are appointed to all be read together.
For me, the place to begin with these Propers is with the Psalm. The Psalmist asks, “What is man that thou art mindful of him; and the son of man that thou visitest him?” That question is one of the most intriguing in Scripture, and certainly bears light to the theme which we heard from the Epistle to the Hebrews.
In our world of religious pluralism, relative truth, materialism, and any other “ism” you care to include it is an absolutely stunning thing to comprehend that God would come down from heaven and become a man, live and die as one of us, and be subject to every form of temptation and suffering as we do. One of the dogmas of our church states that Jesus had two natures – one completely divine, and one completely human. This dogma is crucial because it addresses two fundamental points for us as sinful human beings.
First, Jesus’ divinity addresses the issue that we believe in a God who is actually capable of saving us. If Jesus were not 100% divine how would he be able to save us? Only God is able to save us from our sins, and we affirm in all three of our creeds that Jesus is in fact completely God.
Second, Jesus’ humanity addresses the issue of what does Jesus save us from? N.T. Wright once said in a lecture that the fact that Jesus took on flesh, and lived as a man keeps us from manufacturing a Jesus who just seemed to move about 6” off the ground and never really got his hands dirty. This certainly isn’t the Jesus we read about in the New Testament, and it certainly can never be the person we worship as our Lord.
As the Epistle to the Hebrews declares, “Surely he did not help angels but rather the descendents of Abraham; therefore, he had to become like his brothers in every way, that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest before God to expiate the sins of the people. Because he himself was tested through what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.”
Jesus did not shun the Virgin’s womb and became subject to suffering in order that we too who suffer and struggle in our own lives daily.
The reason that I began by addressing the theme of mankind is so that the marriage theme would make sense in this context.
Not only does God in His infinite wisdom and grace become one of us, he does so with the intention of entering into a relationship with us so deep, so profound, and so mysterious as that of a marriage.
The opening lines of the service for the Solemnization of Holy Matrimony begins with the following: “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together the Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church…”
God gave the Sacrament of Marriage at the beginning of creation, and was actually instituted prior to man’s fall. Even in our innocence, as the marriage service from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer states, God gave us His intended ordering for all mankind with the union of one Man and one Woman in a sacred bond and covenant.
That sacred bond and covenant has been extended to us as well. Throughout the New Testament our Lord spoke of His relationship with mankind as a marriage between Himself, the Bridegroom, and us His bride, the Church. The spotless Bridegroom is forever waiting for his Bride. Throughout our lives we constantly strive for that holiness and sanctification that will make us ready to meet the Groom when the cry goes forth at midnight proclaiming that He has arrived.
I conclude with a short story that made it through my e-mail several months ago. Perhaps some of you saw it as well.
On a busy morning around 8:30am, a gentleman of around the age of 80 entered the emergency room of his local community hospital. He needed to have stitches taken out of his thumb, and did not have the money nor the insurance to cover a regular doctor's visit in order to do so. Yet, he seemed to be in a hurry, looking anxiously down at his wrist watch.
A young intake nurse on the floor noticed that he seemed rather nervous, and asked if he was in a hurry. "Yes," he said. "I have an appointment at 9."
The nurse took his vitals and asked him to sit out in the waiting room, knowing fully well that it would be a few hours before anyone could help him. Seeing that he was so preoccupied with the time, and since there were no other patients waiting to be checked in behind him, she decided to take a look at his wound. Upon examination, it was apparent that he had healed well. She talked to her supervising physican, asking for permission to go ahead and remove the stitches for him.
While removing the sutures and redressing the wound, she asked the gentleman if he had a doctor's appointment at 9.
"No," he replied. "I just need to go and see my wife at the nursing home for breakfast."
The nurse asked politely about her health, in a casual, conversational manner.
"Well," he said, "she has been there for some time now. She caught Alzheimer's, so I couldn't take care of her on my own anymore."
"Will she be angry with you if you are a little late?" asked the nurse.
"No, I guess not." he replied. "She doesn't even remember me anymore or recognize who I am. She has not known me for five years or so now."
The nurse was surprised to learn this information. She asked, "Yet, you still go to see her for breakfast every single morning, even though she has no clue who you are?"
He smiled at her in a knowing, wise way, patted her on the hand and said, "Yes honey. She may not know me, but I know her!"
Certainly there are times when our Lord continues to visit us when we don’t know or recognize Him. However, His faithfulness is the true source of hope that we can forever lean upon in our lives. Christ will never forsake those who call upon His Holy Name, for He has made a vow and covenant with us that He is who He says He is, and has done for us that which we are incapable of doing for ourselves. He has purchased for us an inheritance that surpasses anything we can ever imagine or comprehend; He bids us to say yes to His marriage proposal, and share that Good News with all.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sermon for Trinity XV – Proper 19/20B
All Saints’ Church
September 20, 2009
Invisible ink, going nowhere, the silence is deafening, friendly fire, final draft, same difference, taped live, working vacation, jumbo shrimp. These are just a list of one website’s most popular oxymorons. As we all know, an oxymoron is something that pits two or more contradictory words together to stimulate rhetorical thought in the listener. Most of the time, an oxymoron is not an accident, but rather, intentionally used to invoke humor or to make a statement. In this morning’s Gospel lesson from St. Mark, one might wonder if the father of the child, possessed by the dumb spirit, is making a statement that might be considered an oxymoron.
Our gospel selection opens with a specific group returning to the disciples. There is a great crowd assembled, and they are in the midst of an argument. In reading the entire ninth chapter of Mark, we find out that the group that is returning is Jesus with Peter, James and John immediately after the Transfiguration. These three disciples have just seen perhaps the most remarkable event of their lives, and have truly embodied a “mountain top experience.” One can only imagine what is going through their mind as they come down the mountain, walk into a hostile scene and can tell no one what just happened to them. Jesus had sworn them to remain silent regarding what they had just witnessed.
Jesus then asks the crowd what they are discussing. One member of the crowd steps up and tells Jesus that he had brought his son to him for healing, and the disciples were unable to cast out the demon that possessed the boy. The faith of the father is established early with the fact that he brought his son to Jesus for help, and was trusting of the outcome. However, his faith is obviously shaken by the fact that the disciples were unsuccessful. The failure of the disciples seems to be heightened because just a few chapters earlier we heard the story of the commissioning of the disciples and the power they were granted to cast out demons in the name of Jesus. Why did they fail now?
Verse 19 poses an interesting question for the hearer: to whom is Jesus referring to when he calls the group a ‘faithless generation?’ Is it directed to all in attendance, the father of the child or just to the disciples? Whose faith is Jesus questioning? This is most likely one of those instances where we might answer our rhetorical question with a yes, and Jesus is speaking to all present when he calls them a faithless generation. After making two statements which seem to portray Jesus as someone who is at his wits end, he tells the father to bring the boy to him. As the boy is brought into Jesus’ presence, it is obvious that the demon knows exactly who Jesus is. This is very similar to the actions of demons as described in previous accounts in Mark’s Gospel. When the demonic spirit recognizes it is in the presence of Christ, it throws the boy down into a convulsion, and causes him to fall upon the ground, roll around and foam at the mouth. It is rather interesting that as this begins to happen, Jesus asks the father how long this has been happening. It almost sounds like the way a doctor asks a patient, ‘so how long have you been having these symptoms.’ The question almost seems to set the stage for Jesus’ ultimate lesson he wishes to have us take from this passage.
The father answers Jesus’ question by saying that the demon has gripped his son ever since his childhood, and described several ways in which he had been afflicted over the years. The next line from the father is where the issue of faith and belief begins to overshadow the story. The father pleads with Jesus to have pity on him and his son, “if you can do anything.” This line comes from the same man who had just before taken the initiative to come to Jesus in faith for help. He now just wants pity, if Jesus can simply do that. Jesus repeats back the father’s words in what sounds like disgust, and then makes a bold proclamation, “All things are possible to him who believes.”
Here we come to the point in our story where the father says what many might consider a Biblical oxymoron when he says, “I believe, help my unbelief.” What is to be made of that kind of statement? The father says he believes, but then wants help in dealing with his unbelief. If he says he has unbelief, does he really have belief in the first place? This seems like an incredible oxymoron, until you take it at face value. Are you and I not just like the father? Do we too not want to hedge our bets?
There are certainly times when we have had moments of clarity and feel like God has led us to a certain point in our lives, encouraging us to move forward and take the next step. We just received that new job offer we’ve been praying for; the acceptance letter for college has just come in the mail; perhaps it’s now time to make a critical life decision for a family member. Whatever our individual case may be, we reach that point where we firmly believe that our direction is clear – we declare with the father that we believe. Then the doubts creep in. Is the house going to sell for what we need for it to? Are the children going to like their new school? Are we going to be able to pay for that college? Now that Mom died, how are we going to tell Dad that it’s time to sell the house and move to an assisted living facility?
These are real questions, with real consequences. These are some of our “un-beliefs” that go hand-in-hand with our beliefs. What Jesus wanted the man and us too, to realize that they go together, and he will help us handle them both.
After the father’s declaration, Jesus commands the demon to leave the boy and never to return. With one final wrenching of his body, the boy is free! Free from what has trapped him his entire life. When all around saw what happened, they thought the boy was dead. However, the boy does what each of us must constantly do, now that we are free from what traps us – he allowed Jesus to reach down and lift him up.
But this is not the end of the story. The disciples still have that burning question: ‘what about us!?’ They still cannot figure out what went wrong. Jesus tells them in private that the only way that a demon such as this one can be cast out is through prayer. Belief is now inextricably linked to prayer. The disciples most likely had the belief part but were not steeped in prayer as they ought to have been. They had been following the model for prayer for quite some time now, and yet, were still lacking in this critical part of their lives. Jesus implies that he wants and expects both belief and prayer. The power of evil is experienced in many forms, and the ways in which we are to combat it is given by Jesus himself.
So where does this leave us? I must admit that I am a believer who everyday needs help with my unbelief. This is what every Eucharist service contains the recitation of the Nicene Creed after hearing God’s Word proclaimed and before we hear it preached. Why is it found at this point in the service? Why do we still say it at all? It is there because even though we hear the message from the sacred scriptures of the Good News of Jesus Christ and that we are called to believe in him, our minds race with examples of our needing help with our unbelief. We say the creed each time we gather around our Lord’s Table to remind us that each of us do in fact believe. But, our lives are inundated with occasions when we question that belief. We need to hear it again and again. Since Jesus says that some evil can only be defeated through prayer, might I suggest the next time we say the creed, we say it as a prayer to the Father in addition to it being a Declaration of our Faith.
Do I think that the father’s statement, “I believe, help my unbelief,” is an oxymoron? Absolutely Not! I think it is as honest a statement as could have been made. I empathize with the father when I spend time in my own unbelief. I then fall humbly upon my knees to the only source of strength that I know will there each and every time that I ask – the true source of belief: Jesus the Christ, the Son of God!
All Saints’ Church
September 20, 2009
Invisible ink, going nowhere, the silence is deafening, friendly fire, final draft, same difference, taped live, working vacation, jumbo shrimp. These are just a list of one website’s most popular oxymorons. As we all know, an oxymoron is something that pits two or more contradictory words together to stimulate rhetorical thought in the listener. Most of the time, an oxymoron is not an accident, but rather, intentionally used to invoke humor or to make a statement. In this morning’s Gospel lesson from St. Mark, one might wonder if the father of the child, possessed by the dumb spirit, is making a statement that might be considered an oxymoron.
Our gospel selection opens with a specific group returning to the disciples. There is a great crowd assembled, and they are in the midst of an argument. In reading the entire ninth chapter of Mark, we find out that the group that is returning is Jesus with Peter, James and John immediately after the Transfiguration. These three disciples have just seen perhaps the most remarkable event of their lives, and have truly embodied a “mountain top experience.” One can only imagine what is going through their mind as they come down the mountain, walk into a hostile scene and can tell no one what just happened to them. Jesus had sworn them to remain silent regarding what they had just witnessed.
Jesus then asks the crowd what they are discussing. One member of the crowd steps up and tells Jesus that he had brought his son to him for healing, and the disciples were unable to cast out the demon that possessed the boy. The faith of the father is established early with the fact that he brought his son to Jesus for help, and was trusting of the outcome. However, his faith is obviously shaken by the fact that the disciples were unsuccessful. The failure of the disciples seems to be heightened because just a few chapters earlier we heard the story of the commissioning of the disciples and the power they were granted to cast out demons in the name of Jesus. Why did they fail now?
Verse 19 poses an interesting question for the hearer: to whom is Jesus referring to when he calls the group a ‘faithless generation?’ Is it directed to all in attendance, the father of the child or just to the disciples? Whose faith is Jesus questioning? This is most likely one of those instances where we might answer our rhetorical question with a yes, and Jesus is speaking to all present when he calls them a faithless generation. After making two statements which seem to portray Jesus as someone who is at his wits end, he tells the father to bring the boy to him. As the boy is brought into Jesus’ presence, it is obvious that the demon knows exactly who Jesus is. This is very similar to the actions of demons as described in previous accounts in Mark’s Gospel. When the demonic spirit recognizes it is in the presence of Christ, it throws the boy down into a convulsion, and causes him to fall upon the ground, roll around and foam at the mouth. It is rather interesting that as this begins to happen, Jesus asks the father how long this has been happening. It almost sounds like the way a doctor asks a patient, ‘so how long have you been having these symptoms.’ The question almost seems to set the stage for Jesus’ ultimate lesson he wishes to have us take from this passage.
The father answers Jesus’ question by saying that the demon has gripped his son ever since his childhood, and described several ways in which he had been afflicted over the years. The next line from the father is where the issue of faith and belief begins to overshadow the story. The father pleads with Jesus to have pity on him and his son, “if you can do anything.” This line comes from the same man who had just before taken the initiative to come to Jesus in faith for help. He now just wants pity, if Jesus can simply do that. Jesus repeats back the father’s words in what sounds like disgust, and then makes a bold proclamation, “All things are possible to him who believes.”
Here we come to the point in our story where the father says what many might consider a Biblical oxymoron when he says, “I believe, help my unbelief.” What is to be made of that kind of statement? The father says he believes, but then wants help in dealing with his unbelief. If he says he has unbelief, does he really have belief in the first place? This seems like an incredible oxymoron, until you take it at face value. Are you and I not just like the father? Do we too not want to hedge our bets?
There are certainly times when we have had moments of clarity and feel like God has led us to a certain point in our lives, encouraging us to move forward and take the next step. We just received that new job offer we’ve been praying for; the acceptance letter for college has just come in the mail; perhaps it’s now time to make a critical life decision for a family member. Whatever our individual case may be, we reach that point where we firmly believe that our direction is clear – we declare with the father that we believe. Then the doubts creep in. Is the house going to sell for what we need for it to? Are the children going to like their new school? Are we going to be able to pay for that college? Now that Mom died, how are we going to tell Dad that it’s time to sell the house and move to an assisted living facility?
These are real questions, with real consequences. These are some of our “un-beliefs” that go hand-in-hand with our beliefs. What Jesus wanted the man and us too, to realize that they go together, and he will help us handle them both.
After the father’s declaration, Jesus commands the demon to leave the boy and never to return. With one final wrenching of his body, the boy is free! Free from what has trapped him his entire life. When all around saw what happened, they thought the boy was dead. However, the boy does what each of us must constantly do, now that we are free from what traps us – he allowed Jesus to reach down and lift him up.
But this is not the end of the story. The disciples still have that burning question: ‘what about us!?’ They still cannot figure out what went wrong. Jesus tells them in private that the only way that a demon such as this one can be cast out is through prayer. Belief is now inextricably linked to prayer. The disciples most likely had the belief part but were not steeped in prayer as they ought to have been. They had been following the model for prayer for quite some time now, and yet, were still lacking in this critical part of their lives. Jesus implies that he wants and expects both belief and prayer. The power of evil is experienced in many forms, and the ways in which we are to combat it is given by Jesus himself.
So where does this leave us? I must admit that I am a believer who everyday needs help with my unbelief. This is what every Eucharist service contains the recitation of the Nicene Creed after hearing God’s Word proclaimed and before we hear it preached. Why is it found at this point in the service? Why do we still say it at all? It is there because even though we hear the message from the sacred scriptures of the Good News of Jesus Christ and that we are called to believe in him, our minds race with examples of our needing help with our unbelief. We say the creed each time we gather around our Lord’s Table to remind us that each of us do in fact believe. But, our lives are inundated with occasions when we question that belief. We need to hear it again and again. Since Jesus says that some evil can only be defeated through prayer, might I suggest the next time we say the creed, we say it as a prayer to the Father in addition to it being a Declaration of our Faith.
Do I think that the father’s statement, “I believe, help my unbelief,” is an oxymoron? Absolutely Not! I think it is as honest a statement as could have been made. I empathize with the father when I spend time in my own unbelief. I then fall humbly upon my knees to the only source of strength that I know will there each and every time that I ask – the true source of belief: Jesus the Christ, the Son of God!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Sermon for Trinity XIII – Proper 18B
All Saints’ Church
September 6, 2009
Last weeks Gospel lesson dealt with a theme that was one of the most pressing and contentious issues between Jesus and his detractors. If you remember the passage from the first part of Mark Chapter 7, the big brouhaha was over the fact that Jesus’ disciples were sitting at a table for dinner and were eating with unwashed hands. As our good friends the Pharisees were wont to do, they were right on hand to point out to Jesus and his disciples that they had the letter of the law perfected in their own minds and hearts, and were all to ready, willing, and able to share that with the regular vehemence, contempt, and scorn that they were regulars in showing. Of course, Jesus turns their understanding completely on its head when he tells them that what comes into a man from the outside cannot defile him before God, but rather, it is what proceeds out of him that causes the problem.
Of course in this instance in particular, Jesus is speaking directly about the ritual purity codes and cleanliness codes which pertained to food when he confronts the Pharisees here. He is not making a blanket statement here about what comes into our bodies from without. What we see; what we hear; what we perceive doesn’t necessarily defile us of its own volition, but what those things cause to come out of us and how it shapes and changes who we truly are is what Jesus is addressing here. We are to pay very close attention to what we expose ourselves to because the old slogan in the business world is just as true here as well, “garbage in equals garbage out.”
This brings us to the story of the deaf and dumb man that we heard about in this morning’s Gospel. There are several interesting details in this healing miracle that need further attention. First of all, the people who bring the man to Jesus in hopes that He might heal him beseech Jesus to touch him. That is an interesting request because just a few verses earlier Jesus heals the Syrophonician woman’s daughter merely by telling her that the demon had left her daughter and that she had been healed. In that instance Jesus doesn’t touch the girl, see the girl, he doesn’t even rebuke the demon specifically, yet the girl was healed instantly merely by Jesus saying the word, and it was so. Sounds allot like Genesis doesn’t it, “And God said let there be…and it was so!”
The man Legion was cured of his overwhelming demon possession again by only the spoken word rather than by Jesus’ touch. I’m sure these instances of healing had been known by the people who brought the deaf and dumb man to Jesus, and yet, their request was that he might touch him. Certainly we know that Jesus had the power to heal in any fashion He wanted, and yet, there was something special in Jesus’ touch. We know of course of the great faith of the woman afflicted with the discharge of blood who had faith enough to believe that merely the hem of Jesus’ garment was all she needed to know that this one man had the power to make her well and whole again.
For some, all it takes is hearing the word, for some it’s sight, for some it’s touch. We are quite familiar of one who required sight and touch before he believed. The Sunday following Easter, we hear the story of Thomas who told his fellow disciples that unless he saw the print of the nails and placed his hands in the spear wound in Jesus’ side, he would not believe. Whatever form it takes, our Lord desires that we seek him, and call upon him in our time of need. Perhaps the people who brought this man to Jesus needed believed that Jesus’ touch would be required to heal their friend. Whatever their motivation, they came to the one and only source for healing, and that was one thing they got absolutely correct.
A second observation about this passage is the setting in which the miracle takes place. Jesus has been followed by the crowds, and again those who follow are seeking a miracle of him. Rather than perform this wonderful sign of the power that was within, he takes the man apart from the crowd, and heals him privately. Jesus’ life was one in which he was constantly searching for privacy and solitude. On numerous occasions we hear of Jesus seeking to separate himself from the crowds only to find them pressing upon him more and more, or constantly being one step ahead of his movements.
One thing that is different about Mark’s Gospel has to do with what is known as the Messianic secret. I know I’ve mentioned this attribute of the Gospel before, but it’s always helpful to note this again when we come across passages from Mark such as this one where glimpses of this secret are so noticeable. We have Jesus performing a miracle apart from the crowd, and then beseeches them not to say anything. Of course, the more that Jesus asks people not to say anything the more they seem to do so.
The third observation about this passage seems to me to bridge the gap between last Sunday’s gospel and this one this morning. There is one word that is recorded which has given commentators much information to process over the centuries when they dig into this story and try to make sense of it. The word I refer to appears right before Jesus heals the man where Mark tells us that Jesus sighed.
It’s somewhat difficult to understand what is happening here when we catch an insight like this one into the life of Jesus. The word that is used here is only used 5 other times in the New Testament , and in no other case does it carry the connotation that it does here in reference to Jesus’ frame of mind as he is performing this miracle.
It is unclear whether this sighing was an outward sigh as we often make, or if it were an inward sigh or groaning of some sort. However, one of the best tools to interpret Scripture is Scripture itself. You might have been wondering why I spent time explaining some of the details of the Gospel from last Sunday. In light of the word that occurs here in this morning’s Gospel, I think this might very well be one of those places where Scripture helps with the interpretation. Certainly there is no consensus on this position, but it is one that struck me as I was studying these passages together.
Jesus had just had a conversation with the Pharisees and explained to them that what comes out of a man is what ultimately defiles him. Jesus is most definitely talking about what we say when he speaks of the things which come out of us. Think about the terms that we use when our words are used as weapons, and not as vehicles of God’s love for mankind.
We speak of words cutting us down.
We speak of words stabbing us in the back
We speak of words stinging us to the core
We speak of the pen (written words) being mightier than the sword
What does Jesus do in this miracle that we heard about this morning? He is loosening the very thing that could be used to do tremendous harm. He is giving the man the opportunity to do something that he had never had the opportunity to do before – speak plainly.
Perhaps this is why Jesus sighed. Perhaps he knew that there would be times when the man’s new found freedom would cause pain, and suffering to those around him. To me that seems like a logical reason why Jesus might have sighed in this instance.
But, in light of God’s grace, mercy, and love, he is willing to give the man that opportunity. He is giving him the freedom to use his voice in a previously unfamiliar way.
Our Lord has given us lips to speak, and ears to hear the Good News he has in store for the entire world. Perhaps there are times that our ears are closed, and our tongues are twisted and tied to speak plainly of that love. Certainly there are times when we too need to pray to God that he might place his fingers in our ears, and touch our tongues in order that we might use them rightly to His honor and glory.
The crowds that Jesus asked to be quiet went forth after witnessing the miraculous power of Jesus and said, “Everything he does is marvelous…He even makes the deaf hear and the dumb speak.” Everything that Jesus does is marvelous. What makes those words so marvelous is the historic context that shines through them. In the 35th chapter of Isaiah the prophet declares
5 Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. 6 Then shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing: for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert. 7 And the parched ground shall become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water: in the habitation of dragons, where each lay, shall be grassb with reeds and rushes. 8 And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. 9 No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon, it shall not be found there; but the redeemed shall walk there: 10 And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.
Here is the one that has come in the flesh who is doing the very things that the prophet Isaiah spoke of hundreds of years before the birth of Christ. The very God who created all things, the One who could not be touched, could not be gazed upon, could not be handled took on flesh, in order that His flesh might touch our flesh, and we might behold that Divinity ourselves. We come to do just that very thing again shortly as we come to receive Christ’s flesh and blood in the Blessed Sacrament. We are vouchsafed to do something that is beyond our comprehension, and yet, our Lord bids us to come and partake of his life giving Body.
Jesus opened the ears of the deaf man in order that he might hear for himself the words which bring eternal life. Jesus touched and healed the tongue of the mute man in order that he might boldly proclaim the marvelous deeds that our Lord did for him. Jesus opens our ears and loosens our tongue to do the exact same thing. Let us go forth from this place and do likewise!
All Saints’ Church
September 6, 2009
Last weeks Gospel lesson dealt with a theme that was one of the most pressing and contentious issues between Jesus and his detractors. If you remember the passage from the first part of Mark Chapter 7, the big brouhaha was over the fact that Jesus’ disciples were sitting at a table for dinner and were eating with unwashed hands. As our good friends the Pharisees were wont to do, they were right on hand to point out to Jesus and his disciples that they had the letter of the law perfected in their own minds and hearts, and were all to ready, willing, and able to share that with the regular vehemence, contempt, and scorn that they were regulars in showing. Of course, Jesus turns their understanding completely on its head when he tells them that what comes into a man from the outside cannot defile him before God, but rather, it is what proceeds out of him that causes the problem.
Of course in this instance in particular, Jesus is speaking directly about the ritual purity codes and cleanliness codes which pertained to food when he confronts the Pharisees here. He is not making a blanket statement here about what comes into our bodies from without. What we see; what we hear; what we perceive doesn’t necessarily defile us of its own volition, but what those things cause to come out of us and how it shapes and changes who we truly are is what Jesus is addressing here. We are to pay very close attention to what we expose ourselves to because the old slogan in the business world is just as true here as well, “garbage in equals garbage out.”
This brings us to the story of the deaf and dumb man that we heard about in this morning’s Gospel. There are several interesting details in this healing miracle that need further attention. First of all, the people who bring the man to Jesus in hopes that He might heal him beseech Jesus to touch him. That is an interesting request because just a few verses earlier Jesus heals the Syrophonician woman’s daughter merely by telling her that the demon had left her daughter and that she had been healed. In that instance Jesus doesn’t touch the girl, see the girl, he doesn’t even rebuke the demon specifically, yet the girl was healed instantly merely by Jesus saying the word, and it was so. Sounds allot like Genesis doesn’t it, “And God said let there be…and it was so!”
The man Legion was cured of his overwhelming demon possession again by only the spoken word rather than by Jesus’ touch. I’m sure these instances of healing had been known by the people who brought the deaf and dumb man to Jesus, and yet, their request was that he might touch him. Certainly we know that Jesus had the power to heal in any fashion He wanted, and yet, there was something special in Jesus’ touch. We know of course of the great faith of the woman afflicted with the discharge of blood who had faith enough to believe that merely the hem of Jesus’ garment was all she needed to know that this one man had the power to make her well and whole again.
For some, all it takes is hearing the word, for some it’s sight, for some it’s touch. We are quite familiar of one who required sight and touch before he believed. The Sunday following Easter, we hear the story of Thomas who told his fellow disciples that unless he saw the print of the nails and placed his hands in the spear wound in Jesus’ side, he would not believe. Whatever form it takes, our Lord desires that we seek him, and call upon him in our time of need. Perhaps the people who brought this man to Jesus needed believed that Jesus’ touch would be required to heal their friend. Whatever their motivation, they came to the one and only source for healing, and that was one thing they got absolutely correct.
A second observation about this passage is the setting in which the miracle takes place. Jesus has been followed by the crowds, and again those who follow are seeking a miracle of him. Rather than perform this wonderful sign of the power that was within, he takes the man apart from the crowd, and heals him privately. Jesus’ life was one in which he was constantly searching for privacy and solitude. On numerous occasions we hear of Jesus seeking to separate himself from the crowds only to find them pressing upon him more and more, or constantly being one step ahead of his movements.
One thing that is different about Mark’s Gospel has to do with what is known as the Messianic secret. I know I’ve mentioned this attribute of the Gospel before, but it’s always helpful to note this again when we come across passages from Mark such as this one where glimpses of this secret are so noticeable. We have Jesus performing a miracle apart from the crowd, and then beseeches them not to say anything. Of course, the more that Jesus asks people not to say anything the more they seem to do so.
The third observation about this passage seems to me to bridge the gap between last Sunday’s gospel and this one this morning. There is one word that is recorded which has given commentators much information to process over the centuries when they dig into this story and try to make sense of it. The word I refer to appears right before Jesus heals the man where Mark tells us that Jesus sighed.
It’s somewhat difficult to understand what is happening here when we catch an insight like this one into the life of Jesus. The word that is used here is only used 5 other times in the New Testament , and in no other case does it carry the connotation that it does here in reference to Jesus’ frame of mind as he is performing this miracle.
It is unclear whether this sighing was an outward sigh as we often make, or if it were an inward sigh or groaning of some sort. However, one of the best tools to interpret Scripture is Scripture itself. You might have been wondering why I spent time explaining some of the details of the Gospel from last Sunday. In light of the word that occurs here in this morning’s Gospel, I think this might very well be one of those places where Scripture helps with the interpretation. Certainly there is no consensus on this position, but it is one that struck me as I was studying these passages together.
Jesus had just had a conversation with the Pharisees and explained to them that what comes out of a man is what ultimately defiles him. Jesus is most definitely talking about what we say when he speaks of the things which come out of us. Think about the terms that we use when our words are used as weapons, and not as vehicles of God’s love for mankind.
We speak of words cutting us down.
We speak of words stabbing us in the back
We speak of words stinging us to the core
We speak of the pen (written words) being mightier than the sword
What does Jesus do in this miracle that we heard about this morning? He is loosening the very thing that could be used to do tremendous harm. He is giving the man the opportunity to do something that he had never had the opportunity to do before – speak plainly.
Perhaps this is why Jesus sighed. Perhaps he knew that there would be times when the man’s new found freedom would cause pain, and suffering to those around him. To me that seems like a logical reason why Jesus might have sighed in this instance.
But, in light of God’s grace, mercy, and love, he is willing to give the man that opportunity. He is giving him the freedom to use his voice in a previously unfamiliar way.
Our Lord has given us lips to speak, and ears to hear the Good News he has in store for the entire world. Perhaps there are times that our ears are closed, and our tongues are twisted and tied to speak plainly of that love. Certainly there are times when we too need to pray to God that he might place his fingers in our ears, and touch our tongues in order that we might use them rightly to His honor and glory.
The crowds that Jesus asked to be quiet went forth after witnessing the miraculous power of Jesus and said, “Everything he does is marvelous…He even makes the deaf hear and the dumb speak.” Everything that Jesus does is marvelous. What makes those words so marvelous is the historic context that shines through them. In the 35th chapter of Isaiah the prophet declares
5 Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. 6 Then shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing: for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert. 7 And the parched ground shall become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water: in the habitation of dragons, where each lay, shall be grassb with reeds and rushes. 8 And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. 9 No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon, it shall not be found there; but the redeemed shall walk there: 10 And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.
Here is the one that has come in the flesh who is doing the very things that the prophet Isaiah spoke of hundreds of years before the birth of Christ. The very God who created all things, the One who could not be touched, could not be gazed upon, could not be handled took on flesh, in order that His flesh might touch our flesh, and we might behold that Divinity ourselves. We come to do just that very thing again shortly as we come to receive Christ’s flesh and blood in the Blessed Sacrament. We are vouchsafed to do something that is beyond our comprehension, and yet, our Lord bids us to come and partake of his life giving Body.
Jesus opened the ears of the deaf man in order that he might hear for himself the words which bring eternal life. Jesus touched and healed the tongue of the mute man in order that he might boldly proclaim the marvelous deeds that our Lord did for him. Jesus opens our ears and loosens our tongue to do the exact same thing. Let us go forth from this place and do likewise!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Sermon for Trinity XII – Proper 17B
All Saints’ Church
August 30, 2009
“The Battle of Life” is a metaphor which almost all men at some time in their lives realize and own as true. It suggests a picture which recalls to almost every man his own history, if his has been at all an earnest life. We may think that it has not been so with other men; we may look at some bright and smiling life, and say with something of envy, with something also almost like reproach in our tone, “Lo, life has no battle for him! Behold how smooth and easy all the world has been for him!” The man himself knows better. And we, if we come close to him, can see the scars, nay, we can hear the battle of his life still going on. But whether we come close enough to him to know the real truth of his life or not, we know the truth about our own. Life is a battle. Forever on the watch against our enemies, forever guarding our own lives, forever watching our chance for an attack upon the foe, – so we all live if we are earnest men.”
With these words the Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks begins his sermon delivered on All Saints’ Day 1885 entitled “The Battle of Life” on the passage we just heard from St. Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians.
How many of us have ever really thought, really contemplated, really dwelt upon the reality that we are constantly at war? We are in a perpetual battle with forces we cannot see, but are as real as us sitting in our pews in this church this morning. Some times they come when we least expect it, and from directions we never could have imagined. Many times we can sense that something isn’t quite right, but we’re not sure what it might be. Often the battles occur when we think things are moving along smoothly, and all is actually well with the world.
So what do we do with a passage like this one – putting on God’s armor? Do we treat it as if it were only ancient Biblical language from days gone by, and think that language like this doesn’t apply to us anymore?
I would say that thoughts such as these are incredibly dangerous because passages like this one should cause us to take notice, and might offer some keen insights into our lives and our personal struggles.
It’s quite tempting to make comments or try and convince ourselves that we just don’t talk about stuff like Powers of Darkness, Spiritual Warfare, sin, Satan, and the like. That’s what those fundamentalist churches worry about. We’re too refined and dignified to think that those things are real and truly exist to do us harm.
My friends, these forces are real, they do exist, and we had better think about them in our Christian life.
Martin Luther certainly believed they were real as he wrote these famous words:
“And tho’ 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.”
Our Lord wrestled with these powers of darkness before his ministry ever began. Should we not also expect to wrestle and struggle with these very same forces? Should we ever get so complacent that we would ever tempt the Tempter and say, “this spiritual warfare stuff just doesn’t happen to me?”
If that were so, why would there be any reason to make the following proclamation at the Baptism, “We receive this Child into the congregation of Christ’s flock; and do sign him with the sign of the Cross, in token that hereafter he shall not be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, and manfully fight under his banner, against sin, the world, the flesh, and the devil; and to continue Christ’s faithful soldier and servant unto his life’s end.”
That statement made within the context of the Sacrament of Holy Baptism makes no sense whatsoever if we ever believed that we were not in constant battle with forces which desire to destroy not just the body, but the soul. Jesus declared to his disciples as he was sending them out, “…fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both body and soul.”
One of the two overarching themes Dr. Brooks addresses in the full context of his sermon revolves around two questions: Do we know who or what our enemy truly is; do we know what his weapons are?
Do we know who our enemy is?
St. Peter seemed to know quite well when he wrote in his first epistle, “Be sober, be watchful, your adversary the devil prowls like a roaring lion, seeking some one to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experience of suffering is required of your brotherhood throughout the world” (I Peter 5:8).
The enemy isn’t just a simple cat who wants merely to play with and toy with its prey, but rather the enemy is depicted as a fully developed lion who seeks to devour and destroy. Satan’s ultimate goal is to destroy us. He wants us to finally collapse into the very essence of what he tempts us with. If he has his way with us, we no longer become just a sinner, but sin itself. We become lost in a world of darkness that is ultimately a life lived with no hope.
What are our enemy’s weapons?
Just about anything!
It’s amazing that some of the most joyous parts of our Lord’s creation have been turned and distorted into a fashion that is a means for our destruction rather than our enjoyment.
The enemy is the master of twisting the things of this world, and attempts to warp our thinking so that we can no longer distinguish what God has intended for good, and what He intended for garbage. C. S. Lewis speaks of this most clearly in his book The Pilgrim’s Regress when the main character, John, who is actually Lewis himself, encounters the spirit of the age, and reason comes in to rescue him.
So what is our source of protection and guard against such an enemy?
We must heed the words of St. Paul, and be prepared to put upon us the whole armor of God. We must do so each and every day.
I’m not sure if any of you have ever had dreams such as these, but in a moment of full disclosure, I’ll have to admit that I’ve had dreams of being caught in public without clothing. First of all, let me promise you that these are dreams!
There is actually a known phobia – gymnophobia which is the fear of being nude in public. One website I consulted on this topic mentioned that only the fear of public speaking and fear of failure topped it in their list of most common phobias. I’m not sure of their statistics, but if there is a named, known fear of being nude in public, why do we not suffer from it spiritually as well? It should terrify us each and every day if we are not armed with the armor of God. We’ve already established the point that we are constantly waging war against the world, the flesh, and the devil. We need to put on the proper clothing for that battle, and not attempt to do so unclothed.
Each of the pieces of armor describes Jesus himself, who in fact withstood these forces of evil and darkness and prevailed. We must put on the one and only things that will give us a chance to win a battle that is otherwise un-winnable. St. Jerome declared, “From what we read of the Lord our Saviour throughout the Scriptures, it is manifestly clear that the whole armor of Christ is the Saviour himself. It is one in the same thing to say ‘Put on the whole armor of God’ and ‘Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.’”
When Satan tempted Jesus he was trying to convince Him to turn inward and not to the Father for strength; our trials embody the very same basis of tempting to turn inward for strength to resist these trials and temptations.
In the desert Jesus struggled with Evil – capital E evil itself. We wrestle with the manifestations of the Evil One in whatever form or fashion it takes.
One of the feasts of the Church year is the confession of St. Peter. Peter declares that Jesus is in fact the long awaited Messiah that the prophets proclaimed and all of Jewish history pointed to. After Peter makes his declaration, Jesus says to Peter that “flesh and blood has not revealed this to you.” St. Peter could not have made this revelation about our Lord if it were not for the supernatural forces at work outside of him. It is interesting to note that just a few verses later Jesus tells Satan to get behind him because flesh and blood was driving his thinking and not the Spirit of God that had helped him make the ultimate declaration of his faith.
One of the great treasures of Anglicanism is our hymnody. One of the gifts we have given to the larger Church has been the hymns of Charles Wesley.
“Come thou long expected Jesus,” “Lo! He comes with clouds descending,” “Hark the herald angels sing,” “Jesus Christ is risen today,” “Love divine, all loves excelling,” just to name a few. Certainly Charles Wesley believed and taught that we were in a constant war against Satan and his spiritual forces. He has left us a clear statement of who we are fighting against, and as we know, who will ultimately win.
“Soldiers of Christ, arise, And put your armor on,
Strong in the strength which God supplies, Thro’ his eternal Son;
Strong in the Lord of hosts, And in his mighty power:
Who in the strength of Jesus trusts Is more than conqueror.
Stand then in his great might, With all his strength endued,
And take, to arm you for the fight, The panoply of God.
From strength to strength go on, Wrestle, and fight, and pray:
Tread all the powers of darkness down, And win the well-fought day.
That, having all things done, And all your conflicts past,
Ye may o’ercome, through Christ alone, And stand complete at last.”
All Saints’ Church
August 30, 2009
“The Battle of Life” is a metaphor which almost all men at some time in their lives realize and own as true. It suggests a picture which recalls to almost every man his own history, if his has been at all an earnest life. We may think that it has not been so with other men; we may look at some bright and smiling life, and say with something of envy, with something also almost like reproach in our tone, “Lo, life has no battle for him! Behold how smooth and easy all the world has been for him!” The man himself knows better. And we, if we come close to him, can see the scars, nay, we can hear the battle of his life still going on. But whether we come close enough to him to know the real truth of his life or not, we know the truth about our own. Life is a battle. Forever on the watch against our enemies, forever guarding our own lives, forever watching our chance for an attack upon the foe, – so we all live if we are earnest men.”
With these words the Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks begins his sermon delivered on All Saints’ Day 1885 entitled “The Battle of Life” on the passage we just heard from St. Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians.
How many of us have ever really thought, really contemplated, really dwelt upon the reality that we are constantly at war? We are in a perpetual battle with forces we cannot see, but are as real as us sitting in our pews in this church this morning. Some times they come when we least expect it, and from directions we never could have imagined. Many times we can sense that something isn’t quite right, but we’re not sure what it might be. Often the battles occur when we think things are moving along smoothly, and all is actually well with the world.
So what do we do with a passage like this one – putting on God’s armor? Do we treat it as if it were only ancient Biblical language from days gone by, and think that language like this doesn’t apply to us anymore?
I would say that thoughts such as these are incredibly dangerous because passages like this one should cause us to take notice, and might offer some keen insights into our lives and our personal struggles.
It’s quite tempting to make comments or try and convince ourselves that we just don’t talk about stuff like Powers of Darkness, Spiritual Warfare, sin, Satan, and the like. That’s what those fundamentalist churches worry about. We’re too refined and dignified to think that those things are real and truly exist to do us harm.
My friends, these forces are real, they do exist, and we had better think about them in our Christian life.
Martin Luther certainly believed they were real as he wrote these famous words:
“And tho’ 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.”
Our Lord wrestled with these powers of darkness before his ministry ever began. Should we not also expect to wrestle and struggle with these very same forces? Should we ever get so complacent that we would ever tempt the Tempter and say, “this spiritual warfare stuff just doesn’t happen to me?”
If that were so, why would there be any reason to make the following proclamation at the Baptism, “We receive this Child into the congregation of Christ’s flock; and do sign him with the sign of the Cross, in token that hereafter he shall not be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, and manfully fight under his banner, against sin, the world, the flesh, and the devil; and to continue Christ’s faithful soldier and servant unto his life’s end.”
That statement made within the context of the Sacrament of Holy Baptism makes no sense whatsoever if we ever believed that we were not in constant battle with forces which desire to destroy not just the body, but the soul. Jesus declared to his disciples as he was sending them out, “…fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both body and soul.”
One of the two overarching themes Dr. Brooks addresses in the full context of his sermon revolves around two questions: Do we know who or what our enemy truly is; do we know what his weapons are?
Do we know who our enemy is?
St. Peter seemed to know quite well when he wrote in his first epistle, “Be sober, be watchful, your adversary the devil prowls like a roaring lion, seeking some one to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experience of suffering is required of your brotherhood throughout the world” (I Peter 5:8).
The enemy isn’t just a simple cat who wants merely to play with and toy with its prey, but rather the enemy is depicted as a fully developed lion who seeks to devour and destroy. Satan’s ultimate goal is to destroy us. He wants us to finally collapse into the very essence of what he tempts us with. If he has his way with us, we no longer become just a sinner, but sin itself. We become lost in a world of darkness that is ultimately a life lived with no hope.
What are our enemy’s weapons?
Just about anything!
It’s amazing that some of the most joyous parts of our Lord’s creation have been turned and distorted into a fashion that is a means for our destruction rather than our enjoyment.
The enemy is the master of twisting the things of this world, and attempts to warp our thinking so that we can no longer distinguish what God has intended for good, and what He intended for garbage. C. S. Lewis speaks of this most clearly in his book The Pilgrim’s Regress when the main character, John, who is actually Lewis himself, encounters the spirit of the age, and reason comes in to rescue him.
So what is our source of protection and guard against such an enemy?
We must heed the words of St. Paul, and be prepared to put upon us the whole armor of God. We must do so each and every day.
I’m not sure if any of you have ever had dreams such as these, but in a moment of full disclosure, I’ll have to admit that I’ve had dreams of being caught in public without clothing. First of all, let me promise you that these are dreams!
There is actually a known phobia – gymnophobia which is the fear of being nude in public. One website I consulted on this topic mentioned that only the fear of public speaking and fear of failure topped it in their list of most common phobias. I’m not sure of their statistics, but if there is a named, known fear of being nude in public, why do we not suffer from it spiritually as well? It should terrify us each and every day if we are not armed with the armor of God. We’ve already established the point that we are constantly waging war against the world, the flesh, and the devil. We need to put on the proper clothing for that battle, and not attempt to do so unclothed.
Each of the pieces of armor describes Jesus himself, who in fact withstood these forces of evil and darkness and prevailed. We must put on the one and only things that will give us a chance to win a battle that is otherwise un-winnable. St. Jerome declared, “From what we read of the Lord our Saviour throughout the Scriptures, it is manifestly clear that the whole armor of Christ is the Saviour himself. It is one in the same thing to say ‘Put on the whole armor of God’ and ‘Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.’”
When Satan tempted Jesus he was trying to convince Him to turn inward and not to the Father for strength; our trials embody the very same basis of tempting to turn inward for strength to resist these trials and temptations.
In the desert Jesus struggled with Evil – capital E evil itself. We wrestle with the manifestations of the Evil One in whatever form or fashion it takes.
One of the feasts of the Church year is the confession of St. Peter. Peter declares that Jesus is in fact the long awaited Messiah that the prophets proclaimed and all of Jewish history pointed to. After Peter makes his declaration, Jesus says to Peter that “flesh and blood has not revealed this to you.” St. Peter could not have made this revelation about our Lord if it were not for the supernatural forces at work outside of him. It is interesting to note that just a few verses later Jesus tells Satan to get behind him because flesh and blood was driving his thinking and not the Spirit of God that had helped him make the ultimate declaration of his faith.
One of the great treasures of Anglicanism is our hymnody. One of the gifts we have given to the larger Church has been the hymns of Charles Wesley.
“Come thou long expected Jesus,” “Lo! He comes with clouds descending,” “Hark the herald angels sing,” “Jesus Christ is risen today,” “Love divine, all loves excelling,” just to name a few. Certainly Charles Wesley believed and taught that we were in a constant war against Satan and his spiritual forces. He has left us a clear statement of who we are fighting against, and as we know, who will ultimately win.
“Soldiers of Christ, arise, And put your armor on,
Strong in the strength which God supplies, Thro’ his eternal Son;
Strong in the Lord of hosts, And in his mighty power:
Who in the strength of Jesus trusts Is more than conqueror.
Stand then in his great might, With all his strength endued,
And take, to arm you for the fight, The panoply of God.
From strength to strength go on, Wrestle, and fight, and pray:
Tread all the powers of darkness down, And win the well-fought day.
That, having all things done, And all your conflicts past,
Ye may o’ercome, through Christ alone, And stand complete at last.”
Monday, August 17, 2009
Sermon for Trinity X – ’28 Propers
All Saints’ Church
August 16, 2009
This morning’s Gospel lesson from the last few verses of Luke 19 is one that really needs the entire chapter to set the stage for what is going on. Actually, it needs the entire Biblical witness, but we’ll settle for the first of chapter 19.
Whenever I think of Luke 19, I am always reminded of the song I’m sure many of us sang in Sunday school or Vacation Bible School about Jesus and Zacchaeus. As we know from the story, of all the people that Jesus would have picked to eat dinner with upon his entering Jericho, Zacchaeus should not have been anywhere near the top of the list. However, as Jesus has done throughout his earthly ministry, he has completely upset the status quo and thrown all semblance of what is perceived as right and wrong on its head. Zacchaeus, being a chief tax collector, was the worst of the worst in the eyes of the Jewish people. Luke is specific in pointing out this particular detail just to show how scandalous Jesus’ actions really were. Tax collectors were hated because they were responsible for seeing that money was collected and funneled to Rome, but more than that, they made their living by skimming off the top of what they collected and made their living through shady means. They were stealing from people in order to line their own pockets and there was really nothing anyone could do about it. The chief tax collector would “earn his keep” by overseeing the work of the regular collectors and thus make a living through the same crooked means, and as Luke points out, he got very rich doing this for a living.
Luke records no other dialogue between Jesus and Zacchaeus other than the summons to come down from the sycamore tree in order to make preparations for Jesus’ arrival for dinner. However, there is something in the summons that truly changed Zacchaeus’ heart. For the next words recorded are of a humble man who freely gives away out of his goods to the poor and wishes to make restitution to everyone he has cheated and defrauded. He even goes far beyond what the law required, and those who he had cheated in his lifetime he would repay four-fold. Jesus then acknowledges who this man truly is and the promises that are truly his to enjoy. He says that he is a true son of Abraham – a member of the Covenant people and an inheritor of salvation. Jesus then makes a promise for us all to hear – that he has come to seek and to save the lost. This of course was the point that he tried to get across in last week’s Gospel in the Parable of the Two Lost Sons.
Luke follows the story of Jesus and Zacchaeus with the Parable of the ten minas. There is so much happening in the parable and multiple layers of interpretation enough for several sermons. However, this morning I merely wish to provide the overall story as continued background for the Gospel lesson we heard a few minutes ago. In the parable the king puts ten people in charge of his goods and then goes off into a far country. He entrusts them to grow and multiply the money they have each been given in order to provide an account for what they’ve done when the king returns. When he returns and calls the servants and asks for an account of their progress, the first two he calls had multiplied their gifts, the first 10 fold and the second 5 and in turn they are rewarded for their good work. The last servant returns the mina to his master with these words, “Lord, here is your mina, which I kept laid away in a handkerchief, for I was afraid of you, because you are a severe man. You take what you did not deposit and reap what you did not sow.” With these words the master says that the servant has in fact condemned himself. This is one of those parables in which Jesus issues some of the most stern warnings and condemnations toward those who reject him and his teaching.
The next thing that we hear following this parable is Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Even after all that Jesus has said and done throughout his ministry the Pharisees reject what is happening before their eyes and implore Jesus to silence his disciples. Even though many of those who are cheering as Jesus goes by do not understand what he is about to do in Jerusalem, they at least recognize or perhaps feel in their hearts that the promises of God just might be unfolding right before their eyes. Israel’s Messiah is returning to reign on Mt. Zion, however, this is about to culminate in a manner no one could have imagined. Jesus offers a glimpse into the magnitude of the event when he tells the Pharisees that if His disciples were silent that even the stones would cry out. The purpose of creation and all that God made is to worship this King who now comes in humility and is in fact the Lord of all.
Now I realize that this is allot of background information, but it is crucial to see what led up to our Gospel passage this morning. Jesus is now approaching Jerusalem and he knows that it will be for the last time. He realizes that all of history is about to cross a threshold in just a few short days, and yet so many have never really heard what he’s been saying or doing. He realizes that the religious authorities who were entrusted with the promises that God had made to Abraham were squandering them, and making them a barrier or hindrance rather than something beautiful and a source of hope. They grumbled mightily that Jesus would extend this Good News with someone like Zacchaeus, after all, they had been loyal and faithful for all these many years. Again, this sounds just like the older brother in last week’s parable.
The servants in the parable who grumbled and said that they did not want this master reigning over them were the very ones who returned their mina upon his return, and had nothing to show for it. Now, in their defense, I’m sure the handkerchief was folded meticulously and I’m sure it was made of the finest linen, but the wrapping was merely an empty shell. I’ll bet they thought that this form was much more important than its true function.
These were the same people who were admonishing the crowds as they cheered Jesus’ arrival into Jerusalem and told them to stop praising this carpenter’s son from Nazareth whose father and mother we know. Little did they know that this unassuming man who was riding on a donkey into Jerusalem was about to make the ultimate sacrifice and atone for the sins of the entire world.
All of this background information is crucial and necessary and helps us grasp in some faint way Jesus’ reaction when he crosses over the Mount of Olives and sees the temple in the distance. Tears and lament fill our Lord’s eyes and heart as his earthly mission is drawing to a close. He cries out with these words, “would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace.”
Those very ones who are about to put Jesus to death by the sword are about to have that same sword crush them as well. Just one generation after Jesus the temple would again be destroyed and the sword will again rip through the People of Israel. Jesus’ message of peace is being rejected and those that reject it will reap the damning consequences.
Jesus’ tears turn again to anger and frustration as he witnesses the vulgar display of religion for sale. The very people who have come to Jerusalem with humble hearts – some once a year or for some a once-in-a-lifetime experience – are being robbed, cheated, and exploited by the religious establishment who represent the Father’s promises and serve in His temple night and day. These were the very people who Jesus wept about as he crossed the mountain and came toward the temple.
What do we think about as we hear of the emotion of our Lord as he weeps and laments over those who are lost and choose to stay that way? Should we not also weep over those who will not hear the Good News of the Gospel? Should it not grieve our very souls to know that there are those who reject this message of peace and hope and life eternal? If it broke Jesus’ heart should it not break ours as well?
We have been entrusted with the story of salvation, and we are each called to share that story with the entire world. Then our Lord’s tears of sorrow might be turned into tears of joy as we proclaim with boldness those same words that greeted him as he rode into Jerusalem – Hosanna to the Son of David, Blessed is he who cometh in the name of the Lord!
*******Citations available upon request********
All Saints’ Church
August 16, 2009
This morning’s Gospel lesson from the last few verses of Luke 19 is one that really needs the entire chapter to set the stage for what is going on. Actually, it needs the entire Biblical witness, but we’ll settle for the first of chapter 19.
Whenever I think of Luke 19, I am always reminded of the song I’m sure many of us sang in Sunday school or Vacation Bible School about Jesus and Zacchaeus. As we know from the story, of all the people that Jesus would have picked to eat dinner with upon his entering Jericho, Zacchaeus should not have been anywhere near the top of the list. However, as Jesus has done throughout his earthly ministry, he has completely upset the status quo and thrown all semblance of what is perceived as right and wrong on its head. Zacchaeus, being a chief tax collector, was the worst of the worst in the eyes of the Jewish people. Luke is specific in pointing out this particular detail just to show how scandalous Jesus’ actions really were. Tax collectors were hated because they were responsible for seeing that money was collected and funneled to Rome, but more than that, they made their living by skimming off the top of what they collected and made their living through shady means. They were stealing from people in order to line their own pockets and there was really nothing anyone could do about it. The chief tax collector would “earn his keep” by overseeing the work of the regular collectors and thus make a living through the same crooked means, and as Luke points out, he got very rich doing this for a living.
Luke records no other dialogue between Jesus and Zacchaeus other than the summons to come down from the sycamore tree in order to make preparations for Jesus’ arrival for dinner. However, there is something in the summons that truly changed Zacchaeus’ heart. For the next words recorded are of a humble man who freely gives away out of his goods to the poor and wishes to make restitution to everyone he has cheated and defrauded. He even goes far beyond what the law required, and those who he had cheated in his lifetime he would repay four-fold. Jesus then acknowledges who this man truly is and the promises that are truly his to enjoy. He says that he is a true son of Abraham – a member of the Covenant people and an inheritor of salvation. Jesus then makes a promise for us all to hear – that he has come to seek and to save the lost. This of course was the point that he tried to get across in last week’s Gospel in the Parable of the Two Lost Sons.
Luke follows the story of Jesus and Zacchaeus with the Parable of the ten minas. There is so much happening in the parable and multiple layers of interpretation enough for several sermons. However, this morning I merely wish to provide the overall story as continued background for the Gospel lesson we heard a few minutes ago. In the parable the king puts ten people in charge of his goods and then goes off into a far country. He entrusts them to grow and multiply the money they have each been given in order to provide an account for what they’ve done when the king returns. When he returns and calls the servants and asks for an account of their progress, the first two he calls had multiplied their gifts, the first 10 fold and the second 5 and in turn they are rewarded for their good work. The last servant returns the mina to his master with these words, “Lord, here is your mina, which I kept laid away in a handkerchief, for I was afraid of you, because you are a severe man. You take what you did not deposit and reap what you did not sow.” With these words the master says that the servant has in fact condemned himself. This is one of those parables in which Jesus issues some of the most stern warnings and condemnations toward those who reject him and his teaching.
The next thing that we hear following this parable is Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Even after all that Jesus has said and done throughout his ministry the Pharisees reject what is happening before their eyes and implore Jesus to silence his disciples. Even though many of those who are cheering as Jesus goes by do not understand what he is about to do in Jerusalem, they at least recognize or perhaps feel in their hearts that the promises of God just might be unfolding right before their eyes. Israel’s Messiah is returning to reign on Mt. Zion, however, this is about to culminate in a manner no one could have imagined. Jesus offers a glimpse into the magnitude of the event when he tells the Pharisees that if His disciples were silent that even the stones would cry out. The purpose of creation and all that God made is to worship this King who now comes in humility and is in fact the Lord of all.
Now I realize that this is allot of background information, but it is crucial to see what led up to our Gospel passage this morning. Jesus is now approaching Jerusalem and he knows that it will be for the last time. He realizes that all of history is about to cross a threshold in just a few short days, and yet so many have never really heard what he’s been saying or doing. He realizes that the religious authorities who were entrusted with the promises that God had made to Abraham were squandering them, and making them a barrier or hindrance rather than something beautiful and a source of hope. They grumbled mightily that Jesus would extend this Good News with someone like Zacchaeus, after all, they had been loyal and faithful for all these many years. Again, this sounds just like the older brother in last week’s parable.
The servants in the parable who grumbled and said that they did not want this master reigning over them were the very ones who returned their mina upon his return, and had nothing to show for it. Now, in their defense, I’m sure the handkerchief was folded meticulously and I’m sure it was made of the finest linen, but the wrapping was merely an empty shell. I’ll bet they thought that this form was much more important than its true function.
These were the same people who were admonishing the crowds as they cheered Jesus’ arrival into Jerusalem and told them to stop praising this carpenter’s son from Nazareth whose father and mother we know. Little did they know that this unassuming man who was riding on a donkey into Jerusalem was about to make the ultimate sacrifice and atone for the sins of the entire world.
All of this background information is crucial and necessary and helps us grasp in some faint way Jesus’ reaction when he crosses over the Mount of Olives and sees the temple in the distance. Tears and lament fill our Lord’s eyes and heart as his earthly mission is drawing to a close. He cries out with these words, “would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace.”
Those very ones who are about to put Jesus to death by the sword are about to have that same sword crush them as well. Just one generation after Jesus the temple would again be destroyed and the sword will again rip through the People of Israel. Jesus’ message of peace is being rejected and those that reject it will reap the damning consequences.
Jesus’ tears turn again to anger and frustration as he witnesses the vulgar display of religion for sale. The very people who have come to Jerusalem with humble hearts – some once a year or for some a once-in-a-lifetime experience – are being robbed, cheated, and exploited by the religious establishment who represent the Father’s promises and serve in His temple night and day. These were the very people who Jesus wept about as he crossed the mountain and came toward the temple.
What do we think about as we hear of the emotion of our Lord as he weeps and laments over those who are lost and choose to stay that way? Should we not also weep over those who will not hear the Good News of the Gospel? Should it not grieve our very souls to know that there are those who reject this message of peace and hope and life eternal? If it broke Jesus’ heart should it not break ours as well?
We have been entrusted with the story of salvation, and we are each called to share that story with the entire world. Then our Lord’s tears of sorrow might be turned into tears of joy as we proclaim with boldness those same words that greeted him as he rode into Jerusalem – Hosanna to the Son of David, Blessed is he who cometh in the name of the Lord!
*******Citations available upon request********
Sermon for Trinity IX – ’28 Propers
All Saints’ Church
August 9, 2009
During my first year of seminary I had the opportunity to attend a Biblical Preaching Conference where The Rev. Dr. Paul Zahl was the keynoter giving a series of 3 lectures concerning Biblical Preaching. The audience was almost exclusively Episcopal priests in various stages of the ministry, from those who were nearing retirement to folk like me and others who were just embarking on the journey of the priesthood. Robyn and I were parishioners of Dr. Zahl’s at the Cathedral Church of the Advent in Birmingham, so I was quite excited to see and hear him again. One of the things that Dr. Zahl said in one of his lectures has stuck with me now almost 5 years later, and does so with crystal clarity in light of this morning’s Gospel lesson. Paul said this and I quote fairly loosely, “I hate preaching. It’s like a Golgotha each and every time I step into the pulpit.” Not sure how that quotation strikes you, but those are not exactly the kinds of things that one wants to hear when he hasn’t really delivered any sermons before, or for those who have preached a lifetime of them. What is he saying and what does that have to do with what has commonly been called the Parable of the Prodigal Son?
To begin with, I think, like many other commentators on this passage, the parable has been mischaracterized to single out the repentance of the younger son. There’s no doubt that the younger son plays a significant role in Jesus’ teaching because the majority of the verses deal with him as opposed to his brother. However, this parable is not simply one about a wayward son, but rather, it is one about 2 lost sons. A more appropriate title should be the Parable of the Two Lost Sons, or perhaps more accurately the Parable of the Loving Father.
This is perhaps one of Jesus’ more well-known parables, and one that we have grown up hearing in church. I’m certain that we’ve all heard a number of sermons preached on this unique teaching of our Lord that is found only in Luke’s Gospel. As Bishop N.T. Wright once said humorously in a talk he was giving on the Historical Jesus, “whenever we hear in church hear begins the eleventh verse of the fifteenth chapter of the Gospel of St. Luke – ‘Jesus said, A certain man had two sons, and’ we immediately switch off and begin to wonder if we switched off the oven before we left for church.” However, this parable, like so many others, could almost be read, marked, learned, and inwardly digested on a weekly basis and never lose its ability to convict us in our walk with the Lord.
Since most of us do not read Scripture from the perspective of a 1st Century Palestinian, we tend to miss some of the underlying themes that would have confronted someone from this area from the start. First of all, the scandal of this parable hits us right off the bat. As Dr. Wright says, “sons do not ask fathers for cash down before their death.” The effects of the younger son’s question has the effect of cursing his father, wishing he were dead and out of the way so that he might have the inheritance that would have been due him. According to the book of Deuteronomy the rules and regulations regarding inheritance was spelled out in detail and the oldest son would have received 2/3 of the father’s goods and the younger 1/3. With the inheritance divided amongst the two brothers, the younger one sets off and journeys into a far country.
A quick side note here. One of the biggest problems with hearing this parable read in the context of the liturgy is that it is usually isolated from the first 10 verses of chapter 15. The reason that those first 10 verses are important is that the two parables which precede it help set the stage for the larger parable of the two sons. Those being the parable of the 1 lost sheep out of 100 and the parable of the woman and the lost coin. Another detail is contained in the first 2 verses of chapter 15 which gives the context in which Jesus is telling these stories. Chapter 15 opens with these words, “Then drew near unto him all the publicans and sinners for to hear him. 2And the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them.” There is a mixed audience of religious outcasts and religious authorities. This is a very important point to note, and will give additional meaning when the parable of the two sons reaches its climax.
All of the Old Testament prophets had a message that was never far removed from the minds of the Jewish people. They were always reminded that the Covenant that was made with Abraham would eventually led them home where they would no longer be exiles, and that God would reign as their King. Even though the Israelites were no longer physically in exile as they were in Babylon or Egypt, they were still enslaved by the rule of Herod and the outstretched arm of Rome. They were technically still foreigners in their own land.
Jesus was always masterful in his use of the images, signs, and symbols which would have evoked deep meaning with his hearers who would open their ears to what he was saying. By the very mention of phrases such as “feeding swine,” “journey into a far country,” “Father, I have sinned” he is intentionally going to touch something deep within his audience. The people would immediately begin to put the pieces together and figure out quickly that Jesus is talking about the Exodus and return to the Promised Land. The symbols spoke loud and clear, and his message would be one of Redemption and Return even if those words don’t appear explicitly in the text.
The theme that is most often extracted from this parable is of course the most obvious that no matter how bad or disastrous our life becomes, we are never beyond the saving grace of God – The Father of the two sons. Even when we have reached rock bottom and we’ve resorted to feeding pigs in a pagan land, whenever we come to our senses, recognize our brokenness, and come home, the grace of God is not waiting on the front porch, stomping his feet, saying, “well you’ve gone and done it again.” No, the grace that comes from a father such as this one says, you were lost, but now you’ve been found, you were dead, but now you are alive again!
Certainly there are times in our lives when we’ve all been guilty of being the younger son, squandering what we’ve been given, and tried to do it on our own.
However, the greater sin I believe comes after the return of the younger son.
Here is the place where I see myself concurring with Dr. Zahl in admitting that preaching can be a Golgotha experience. I hear this parable again, and I relate not so much to the younger son, but more often with the older.
If we only spend time looking at the younger son, we miss something that I believe befalls us all more often than we’d like to admit. From the parable itself, here is what we know of the older brother.
• He heard the music and dancing, and wouldn’t even go investigate things himself, but sends a servant instead.
• He was angry and would not go in
• He expresses his anger in terms of what he has done all these many years in service to the father
• Refers to the younger son not as his brother, but rather as his father’s son
• Complains that he never received any reward or party for being faithful
As is often Jesus’ custom, he never ties up all of the loose ends. Have you ever pondered the question, “did the older brother ever go into the party?” Certainly within the pages of Scripture we don’t find the answer, but if I were to venture a guess I would say that he probably did not. This is why I mentioned a few minutes ago that it is important for us to know who was hearing this parable and what they must be thinking. Pharisees had already made comments regarding who Jesus was eating with and fraternizing with. It’s painfully obvious who the older brothers are in this story.
The older brothers are the ones who were saying to themselves…
• We’ve been keeping the Torah to the Nth degree since birth
• We’re the ones who make sure that the sacrifices are done perfectly and in order in the temple
• We’ve made sure that our hands were clean, and that we would never defile ourselves by hanging out with the wrong types of people
Jesus tells them through the Father’s words that they’ve in fact had all of the promises of God from the very beginning and never realized them for what they were. They lived their lives from the perspective of someone who only kept the rules in order to reap some type of reward at the end. I’ll only do X so that I can receive Y. Jesus is saying that their perspective is all wrong. The keeping of the law shouldn’t be done just to earn points or punch tickets to get into heaven. The keeping of the law should be done because it was a part of who God was. If we love God, then the natural outworking of that love should cause us to do everything possible to manifest that love.
If we are truly honest, how often does our Christian walk look something like that of the older brother when we’ve asked questions or made statements such as these?
• Don’t I deserve this since I’ve been faithful and haven’t been like that particular sinner over there?
• This will make me look good in front of that person whether we’ve thought it consciously or not.
• I’ve sure done my good deed for the day
• I wonder if anyone saw me do that
Please don’t hear me making statements such as these without including myself. I realize that throwing stones in glass houses makes very big messes, and I am as guilty as anyone.
One of the greatest points to take from this parable is to note the posture of the Father. In both instances the Father makes the point to go out to meet both sons. He doesn’t wait for the younger son to get to the house, but rather, runs out to meet him while he’s still a great distance off. He’s been looking for him, and as soon as he sees him, he rushes out to welcome him home. The Father also leaves the party that he’s thrown for the younger son and goes out to meet the older son. He does it lovingly and compassionately, and then leaves the response for the son to make. He can’t make it for him. The older son must decide whether he can forgive his brother or not. He has to decide whether to come into the party or not. Most importantly, he has to decide whether he can call him brother again – or not.
This is the hardest thing we can ever do because it causes us to swallow our pride and accept grace for what it is. The world we live in today is no different than the one that heard this parable for the first time. The grace of the Father still seems as scandalous today as it did then.
The older brother thought that his works would earn him favor and merit with his father, and that he should be recognized for what he had done in the past. The younger brother knew he had nothing to show for what his life had become, and came to his father in the only posture that he could – that of a servant. Jesus told his disciples that he came not to be served but to serve. He said that he came to seek and to save that which was lost.
Here is the story of two brothers – both lost, and in need of salvation. We are those very same brothers, lost and in need of salvation. Our Father is waiting for our return from that far country, so that we can enter in to the banquet that he has prepared for us to enjoy. Will we heed that call, and come home, or come in, whichever the case may be?
******Citations available upon request*******
All Saints’ Church
August 9, 2009
During my first year of seminary I had the opportunity to attend a Biblical Preaching Conference where The Rev. Dr. Paul Zahl was the keynoter giving a series of 3 lectures concerning Biblical Preaching. The audience was almost exclusively Episcopal priests in various stages of the ministry, from those who were nearing retirement to folk like me and others who were just embarking on the journey of the priesthood. Robyn and I were parishioners of Dr. Zahl’s at the Cathedral Church of the Advent in Birmingham, so I was quite excited to see and hear him again. One of the things that Dr. Zahl said in one of his lectures has stuck with me now almost 5 years later, and does so with crystal clarity in light of this morning’s Gospel lesson. Paul said this and I quote fairly loosely, “I hate preaching. It’s like a Golgotha each and every time I step into the pulpit.” Not sure how that quotation strikes you, but those are not exactly the kinds of things that one wants to hear when he hasn’t really delivered any sermons before, or for those who have preached a lifetime of them. What is he saying and what does that have to do with what has commonly been called the Parable of the Prodigal Son?
To begin with, I think, like many other commentators on this passage, the parable has been mischaracterized to single out the repentance of the younger son. There’s no doubt that the younger son plays a significant role in Jesus’ teaching because the majority of the verses deal with him as opposed to his brother. However, this parable is not simply one about a wayward son, but rather, it is one about 2 lost sons. A more appropriate title should be the Parable of the Two Lost Sons, or perhaps more accurately the Parable of the Loving Father.
This is perhaps one of Jesus’ more well-known parables, and one that we have grown up hearing in church. I’m certain that we’ve all heard a number of sermons preached on this unique teaching of our Lord that is found only in Luke’s Gospel. As Bishop N.T. Wright once said humorously in a talk he was giving on the Historical Jesus, “whenever we hear in church hear begins the eleventh verse of the fifteenth chapter of the Gospel of St. Luke – ‘Jesus said, A certain man had two sons, and’ we immediately switch off and begin to wonder if we switched off the oven before we left for church.” However, this parable, like so many others, could almost be read, marked, learned, and inwardly digested on a weekly basis and never lose its ability to convict us in our walk with the Lord.
Since most of us do not read Scripture from the perspective of a 1st Century Palestinian, we tend to miss some of the underlying themes that would have confronted someone from this area from the start. First of all, the scandal of this parable hits us right off the bat. As Dr. Wright says, “sons do not ask fathers for cash down before their death.” The effects of the younger son’s question has the effect of cursing his father, wishing he were dead and out of the way so that he might have the inheritance that would have been due him. According to the book of Deuteronomy the rules and regulations regarding inheritance was spelled out in detail and the oldest son would have received 2/3 of the father’s goods and the younger 1/3. With the inheritance divided amongst the two brothers, the younger one sets off and journeys into a far country.
A quick side note here. One of the biggest problems with hearing this parable read in the context of the liturgy is that it is usually isolated from the first 10 verses of chapter 15. The reason that those first 10 verses are important is that the two parables which precede it help set the stage for the larger parable of the two sons. Those being the parable of the 1 lost sheep out of 100 and the parable of the woman and the lost coin. Another detail is contained in the first 2 verses of chapter 15 which gives the context in which Jesus is telling these stories. Chapter 15 opens with these words, “Then drew near unto him all the publicans and sinners for to hear him. 2And the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them.” There is a mixed audience of religious outcasts and religious authorities. This is a very important point to note, and will give additional meaning when the parable of the two sons reaches its climax.
All of the Old Testament prophets had a message that was never far removed from the minds of the Jewish people. They were always reminded that the Covenant that was made with Abraham would eventually led them home where they would no longer be exiles, and that God would reign as their King. Even though the Israelites were no longer physically in exile as they were in Babylon or Egypt, they were still enslaved by the rule of Herod and the outstretched arm of Rome. They were technically still foreigners in their own land.
Jesus was always masterful in his use of the images, signs, and symbols which would have evoked deep meaning with his hearers who would open their ears to what he was saying. By the very mention of phrases such as “feeding swine,” “journey into a far country,” “Father, I have sinned” he is intentionally going to touch something deep within his audience. The people would immediately begin to put the pieces together and figure out quickly that Jesus is talking about the Exodus and return to the Promised Land. The symbols spoke loud and clear, and his message would be one of Redemption and Return even if those words don’t appear explicitly in the text.
The theme that is most often extracted from this parable is of course the most obvious that no matter how bad or disastrous our life becomes, we are never beyond the saving grace of God – The Father of the two sons. Even when we have reached rock bottom and we’ve resorted to feeding pigs in a pagan land, whenever we come to our senses, recognize our brokenness, and come home, the grace of God is not waiting on the front porch, stomping his feet, saying, “well you’ve gone and done it again.” No, the grace that comes from a father such as this one says, you were lost, but now you’ve been found, you were dead, but now you are alive again!
Certainly there are times in our lives when we’ve all been guilty of being the younger son, squandering what we’ve been given, and tried to do it on our own.
However, the greater sin I believe comes after the return of the younger son.
Here is the place where I see myself concurring with Dr. Zahl in admitting that preaching can be a Golgotha experience. I hear this parable again, and I relate not so much to the younger son, but more often with the older.
If we only spend time looking at the younger son, we miss something that I believe befalls us all more often than we’d like to admit. From the parable itself, here is what we know of the older brother.
• He heard the music and dancing, and wouldn’t even go investigate things himself, but sends a servant instead.
• He was angry and would not go in
• He expresses his anger in terms of what he has done all these many years in service to the father
• Refers to the younger son not as his brother, but rather as his father’s son
• Complains that he never received any reward or party for being faithful
As is often Jesus’ custom, he never ties up all of the loose ends. Have you ever pondered the question, “did the older brother ever go into the party?” Certainly within the pages of Scripture we don’t find the answer, but if I were to venture a guess I would say that he probably did not. This is why I mentioned a few minutes ago that it is important for us to know who was hearing this parable and what they must be thinking. Pharisees had already made comments regarding who Jesus was eating with and fraternizing with. It’s painfully obvious who the older brothers are in this story.
The older brothers are the ones who were saying to themselves…
• We’ve been keeping the Torah to the Nth degree since birth
• We’re the ones who make sure that the sacrifices are done perfectly and in order in the temple
• We’ve made sure that our hands were clean, and that we would never defile ourselves by hanging out with the wrong types of people
Jesus tells them through the Father’s words that they’ve in fact had all of the promises of God from the very beginning and never realized them for what they were. They lived their lives from the perspective of someone who only kept the rules in order to reap some type of reward at the end. I’ll only do X so that I can receive Y. Jesus is saying that their perspective is all wrong. The keeping of the law shouldn’t be done just to earn points or punch tickets to get into heaven. The keeping of the law should be done because it was a part of who God was. If we love God, then the natural outworking of that love should cause us to do everything possible to manifest that love.
If we are truly honest, how often does our Christian walk look something like that of the older brother when we’ve asked questions or made statements such as these?
• Don’t I deserve this since I’ve been faithful and haven’t been like that particular sinner over there?
• This will make me look good in front of that person whether we’ve thought it consciously or not.
• I’ve sure done my good deed for the day
• I wonder if anyone saw me do that
Please don’t hear me making statements such as these without including myself. I realize that throwing stones in glass houses makes very big messes, and I am as guilty as anyone.
One of the greatest points to take from this parable is to note the posture of the Father. In both instances the Father makes the point to go out to meet both sons. He doesn’t wait for the younger son to get to the house, but rather, runs out to meet him while he’s still a great distance off. He’s been looking for him, and as soon as he sees him, he rushes out to welcome him home. The Father also leaves the party that he’s thrown for the younger son and goes out to meet the older son. He does it lovingly and compassionately, and then leaves the response for the son to make. He can’t make it for him. The older son must decide whether he can forgive his brother or not. He has to decide whether to come into the party or not. Most importantly, he has to decide whether he can call him brother again – or not.
This is the hardest thing we can ever do because it causes us to swallow our pride and accept grace for what it is. The world we live in today is no different than the one that heard this parable for the first time. The grace of the Father still seems as scandalous today as it did then.
The older brother thought that his works would earn him favor and merit with his father, and that he should be recognized for what he had done in the past. The younger brother knew he had nothing to show for what his life had become, and came to his father in the only posture that he could – that of a servant. Jesus told his disciples that he came not to be served but to serve. He said that he came to seek and to save that which was lost.
Here is the story of two brothers – both lost, and in need of salvation. We are those very same brothers, lost and in need of salvation. Our Father is waiting for our return from that far country, so that we can enter in to the banquet that he has prepared for us to enjoy. Will we heed that call, and come home, or come in, whichever the case may be?
******Citations available upon request*******
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