Saturday, December 05, 2009

Sermon for Advent II
St. John’s – Moultrie, GA
December 6, 2009

I’m sure that in the midst of the news coverage of the Health Care Reform bill in the U. S. Senate and the President’s address to the nation concerning his war strategy in Afghanistan, you probably came across a small news story that made a few headlines regarding Tiger Woods. The larger-than-life golf superstar made major headlines last weekend when he ran over a fire hydrant and hit a tree at his home in Orlando at around 3:00 a.m. The grocery store tabloids had been circulating stories about marital infidelity by Tiger Woods a few weeks before, and naturally the rumors began flying when news first broke on this story.

This morning’s sermon isn’t about piling on Tiger Woods. He’s already had enough piled on him already. Rather it’s about the written “apology” he posted on his website. I put apology in quotations because I had to search for what I considered to be a heartfelt apology. I do realize I’m not privy to private statements made that are not included in what he wrote, but I’m still not sure I found one. His letter sounded more like the words of someone who was sorry for being caught and not someone who is really sorry for his actions. He starts off first by saying that “I have let my family down, and I regret those transgressions with all of my heart. I have not been true to my values and the behavior my family deserves. I am not without faults and I am far short of perfect.” I realize to a certain extent that many of these statements are prepared with publicists, attorneys, and agents weighing in, but in this first paragraph there is no admission of sin, adultery, infidelity. Why would you soften what happened and refer to what occurred as simply a “transgression?” Why not stand up like a man and admit with an humble, lowly, obedient, and penitent heart that he disobeyed his marriage vows to his wife, and committed serial adultery and infidelity? The only time he mentions the word apology in his statement is in the very last sentence when he says, “For all of those who have supported me over the years I offer my profound apology.” The people who deserve his most profound apology are his wife, Elin, and their children. I have no idea whether Tiger considers himself a Christian or not, but first and foremost, he needs to repent for his actions and seek the forgiveness of God Almighty. That may not have been his style to have said something like that in print, but I sure would have been quite impressed if I had read those words from his pen. Instead, he includes a paragraph where he almost sounds like the victim by the tabloids exposing his infidelity. He says further, “Personal sins should not require press releases and problems within a family shouldn’t have to mean public confessions.” There’s only one problem with a statement such as this one. The public funds his salary. The general public buys the products which finance his sponsorship deals, and fund the purses at PGA Tour events. He’s made hundreds of millions of dollars from the public, so yes he does owe us an apology. He owes an apology to all of the children who look up to him as a role model, and have had to have their parents explain to them what happened if they didn’t already know.

I said I wasn’t going to pile on Tiger Woods, and this probably sounds like exactly what I’ve done, but I believe within this Season of Advent this is an appropriate illustration of what we are to wrestle with as we await our Lord’s coming. It’s appropriate because we must first and foremost ask ourselves the question, why did Jesus have to come to earth in the first place?

God could have very well left us to our own devices to earn merit and favor with him by what we do and what we don’t do and then see how things shake out in the end. However, St. Paul helps us out when he declares with complete conviction that he doesn’t do the things he wants to do, and does the very things he wishes with all his heart that he didn’t. He was a disciple and follower of Christ when he made those statements. He understood what our Lord did for him on the cross, and every way he sliced it, he ended up short. The following story about English slave ship captain and the author of the hymn Amazing Grace, John Newton conveys this same point perfectly.

Two or three years before the death of John Newton, when his sight was so dim that he was no longer able to read, a friend and brother in the ministry called to have breakfast with him. Their custom was to read the Word of God following mealtime, after which Newton would make a few short remarks on the Biblical passage, and then appropriate prayer would be offered. That day, however, there was silence after the words of Scripture “by the grace of God I am what I am” were read.
Finally, after several minutes, Newton spoke, “I am not what I ought to be! How imperfect and deficient I am! I am not what I wish to be, although I abhor that which is evil and would cleave to what is good! I am not what I hope to be, but soon I shall be out of mortality, and with it all sin and imperfection. Though I am not what I ought to be, nor what I wish to be, nor yet what I hope to be, I can truly say I am not what I once was: a slave to sin and Satan. I can heartily join with the apostle and acknowledge that by the grace of God I am what I am!” Then, after a pause, he said. “Now let us pray!”

That is what true repentance looks like. That is true acknowledgment of the human condition. That’s the honest admission that we are wrestling against something far more powerful than we can ever fight through our own devices and desires of our own hearts.

God sent Jesus to earth because he wanted to open every door and provide every opportunity for us to be reunited into fellowship with Him. He wanted to be able to move through the Garden again in the cool of the day and not find us naked and ashamed because of who we are, but rather look upon us again through the lens of his perfect Son. He opened the door, and now the choice is ours as to whether or not we will accept this fact and pass through on the only way to our salvation. Can we truly accept our condition for what it is? Here’s how the Moody Monthly defines sin – are we able to accept these points?

What Is Sin?

Man calls it an accident; God calls it an abomination.
Man calls it a blunder; God calls it blindness.
Man calls it a defect; God calls it a disease.
Man calls it a chance; God calls it a choice.
Man calls it an error; God calls it an enmity.
Man calls it a fascination; God calls it a fatality.
Man calls it an infirmity; God calls it an iniquity.
Man calls it a luxury; God calls it a leprosy.
Man calls it a liberty; God calls it lawlessness.
Man calls it a trifle; God calls it a tragedy.
Man calls it a mistake; God calls it a madness.
Man calls it a weakness; God calls it willfulness.

This is of course a harsh reality to face. The Good News is the God did not leave us to face this alone. He did not leave us to face it uncomforted. He did not leave us to face it without hope.

This Season of Advent is a time of reflection. It is a time to reflect upon who we are as a people in need of a Saviour. Most importantly, it’s a time to reflect upon a God who would send a Saviour, and would do so in the form of His only begotten Son.

As we approach our Lord’s Incarnation, we are called to reflect upon the love of a Heavenly Father who would deign to be our guest and come and be among us. Thanks be to God for this most remarkable gift.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Sermon for Advent Sunday
St. John’s Church - Moultrie, GA
November 29, 2009

It is a glorious and wonderful new year that we begin this morning. We come to the start of a new Church Year as we have arrived again at the Season of Advent. The time when we as the Body of Christ reflect and anticipate the coming of the Messiah in the Incarnation of our Lord.

It’s amazing how me move so quickly from last Sunday where we celebrated the kingship of Jesus Christ, into the season of longing and expectation. If you look back at the lessons assigned for this morning, you might see that they provide a different sort of beginning of the Church Year and our Season of Advent.

The texts assigned don’t bring us stories of Zechariah and the coming of the prophet John the Baptist, nor do they speak of the interaction between the Archangel Gabriel and the Virgin Mary. We don’t begin where we would think we would.

The lessons today do point to the Incarnation, but they do so looking straight through the Incarnation, straight through the cross, and on to the second coming of the Messiah. They have a focus on the eschatological future or the world. Eschatology is a theological term which deals with the study of the end times, or the final things of this world. Passages such as what we’ve just heard have an eschatological focus.

Not unlike our lessons from a few weeks ago, we heard a great deal of strange language and imagery such as:

“the valley…shall be filled up by the earthquake in the days of King Uzziah.”

“there shall no longer be cold or frost.”

“there shall be continuous day.”

“before him there is a consuming flame, and round about him a raging storm.”

“there will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars.”

“people will be perplexed by the roaring of the sea and the waves.”

“the powers of heaven will be shaken.”

“and then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory”

What are we to make of these particular passages of Scripture?
These passages certainly don’t bring to mind images of a manger, or shepherds, or wise men, or the coming of the Son of God.

No, they conjure up images of darkness and confusion.

And since we believe that the Holy Scriptures are the living, breathing Word of God, I believe they are certainly chosen specifically so that we might hear them and wrestle with them today.

Try for a moment to think about the first Christians in Jerusalem about 30 years after Jesus’ Ascension. They are meeting together to break bread, and re-tell the stories of Jesus together in small house churches. If some of these groups were lucky, they might have had something written down by one of the Apostles or one of the Evangelists. Most likely though they would have had nothing but the stories that they never got tired of telling over and over.

What would be going through their heads if they had heard these same passages being read in their midst? Most likely their non-Christian friends have been ragging them unmercifully because this so-called Messiah that they worshipped had not yet come back. Things were certainly getting rough around Jerusalem with all the Romans around.

And also think about what was happening in other parts of the world at the same time. Christianity was spreading rapidly outside Palestine, but these new converts were going about it in roundabout kind of way. There was an ex-Pharisee Saul, now Paul was telling these new followers of Christ were instructed that they did not have to be circumcised as a sign or maker of being part of the New Covenant.

However, many cried foul.

Hey! That’s not part of the deal here. Jesus was a good Jew, and he sure didn’t tell us we didn’t have to keep our part of the Old Covenant. These new folks need to follow the Law of Moses just like we do.

But what did Jesus say in our passage this morning? He told the Christians in Jerusalem the same thing he told Christians anywhere else.

Stay Awake!

Be on guard!

Hang on!

Prop your eyes open! Either literally of figuratively, whatever the case may be.
Now, let’s move forward to 2009 and St. John’s Church in Moultrie, GA. We are gathered together as a faith community preparing to break bread just like the early Christians did. We are in the process of re-telling the stories of Jesus just like the early Christians did. We aren’t doing it homes, but we are gathered around the altar for to be fed by the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.

The more things change, the more they stay exactly the same. We are still met with the same criticisms that the early Christians did.

Come on! Are you still believing those silly stories about that Jesus person?

Don’t you know that we are now enlightened and proven that this Christianity thing is just a big hoax?

All you need is a little more pleasure in your life in whatever form it takes. Besides, hasn’t the Church done some pretty bad things in its history all in the name of Jesus? What about those Crusades and that Inquisition business? You’ll notice that everyone who wants to debunk Christianity always bring those two items up. Ravi Zacharias once said that many would like to point out how much violence was done in the name of God, how much violence has been perpetrated in the name of godlessness?

Of course, the biggest complaint against Christianity has to do with the nature of evil. Skeptics say if your Jesus was so special why is there so much evil in the world, and why are we in as big of a mess as a global society as we’ve ever been?

These questions and accusations come at each of us in different forms, and are manifestations of the Devil and his work. He wants to whittle and wear us down. He wants to make us weary and tired.

And what happens when that occurs - we are not able to see the coming of the Son of Man. Jesus told us very clearly that this is exactly what we are to expect. This is what is going to be coming our way as His disciples. He continues to tell us today to stay awake, be vigilant, pray, and keep alert.

As our Gospel lesson from the morning closes, what does Jesus do?

It says that he went to the temple area during the day, and at night he would go apart and stay at a place called the Mount of Olives. Jesus knew that in order for him to stay alert he would have to go apart and be with His Father in prayer. In order for us to do the same we too must spend time apart and do the very same things.

I wish to close with a story that sets the stage for us during Advent as we approach our Lord’s Incarnation

A. J. Gordon was the pastor of Clarendon Baptist Church in Boston, MA. One day he met a young boy in front of the church carrying a rusty cage in which several birds fluttered nervously. Gordon inquired, “Son, where did you get those birds?”

The boy replied, “I trapped them out in the field.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“I’m going to play with them, and then I guess I’ll just feed them to an old cat we have at home.”

When Gordon offered to buy them, the lad exclaimed, “Mister, you don’t want them, they’re just little old wild birds, and they sure can’t sing very well.”

Gordon replied, “I’ll give you $2 for the cage and the birds.”

“Okay, it’s a deal, but you’re making a bad bargain.”

The exchange was made and the boy went away whistling, happy with his shinny new coins. Gordon walked around to the back of the church property, opened the door of the small wire coop, and let the struggling creatures soar into the blue.

The next Sunday he took the empty cage into the pulpit and used it to illustrate his sermon about Christ’s coming to seek and save the lost - paying for them with His own precious blood.

“That boy told me the birds were not songsters,” said Gordon, “but when I released them and they winged their way heavenward, it seemed to me they were singing, ‘Redeemed, Redeemed, Redeemed!’”

This is Advent - and the message of these times is the song of those wild birds. It’s the song sung in every carol of this season: Redeemed!

It’s the word that the shepherds heard: Redeemed!

It’s the assurance Mary received: Redeemed!

It’s the message behind the star that the wise men followed: Redeemed!

We are all trapped by sin, but Christ has purchased our pardon. He who has this hope in his heart will sing, and you know the song: Redeemed, Redeemed, Redeemed!

Happy New Year to all of us here at St. John’s and the followers of Jesus Christ everywhere, we are redeemed people.

May God give us the strength to stay awake, alert, and life like the redeemed people that we truly are.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Sermon for the Feast of Christ the King
St. John’s Church – Moultrie, GA
November 22, 2009

If I were to take a guess, I would suspect that most of us here have played the game 20 questions. In an effort to discover the identity of some person, place or thing, one asks a series of questions to help us on our quest. One of the strategies of the game is to move as quickly as possible to questions of a more specific nature because the broader questions at the beginning attempts to rule out as many wrong answers as they can. The closer one gets to the answer the more specific the questions tend to become.

This morning’s Gospel doesn’t deal with 20 questions, but it does deal with some of the most critical questions that have ever been posed in all of human history.

Our Gospel from St. John sits squarely within the context of the events of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday as Jesus has already been questioned by Annas and Caiaphas, and is now in the presence of the Roman Procurator, Pontius Pilate. If we look at the few verses which precede what we just heard, we know that Pilate actually tried to have nothing to do with Jesus’ trial. He told the religious authorities that led Jesus to him to go and judge him according to their laws. He wasn’t interested in getting into what he perceived to be a religious squabble between different factions of Judaism. In Matthew’s Gospel we even have Pilate’s wife sending him word not to have anything to do with this righteous man because she had suffered much on his account in dreams just that night before. However, the religious authorities forced Pilate’s hand when they said to him that it was not lawful for them to put someone to death.

At this point in time Pilate was in a dilemma, he’s obviously dealing with someone who has done something serious enough to warrant the death penalty, and the last thing he wanted on his hand was a riot amongst the people. Talk about your untenable positions, Pilate was walking the tightrope between the Jewish people who despised the fact that they were under the occupation of Rome, and having to live under the rule of these pagans, and the Roman government who did not want to hear about their territories being problem areas and causing trouble. Pilate’s job was to keep the peace, and the last thing he wanted was this kind of a problem taking place around the Passover and Jerusalem packed with pilgrims from all over the country.

Pilate begins the interrogation with a series of questions, and unlike 20 questions, he starts off with a very specific question right off the bat. He asks Jesus directly if He is the King of the Jews. Interesting that Pilate goes right to that question from the very beginning as that might tell him who or what he’s dealing with here. An affirmative answer to Pilate’s question would lead him to want to know what this does for Herod’s authority. If he answers no, then Pilate would want to know why the religious folks are even attempting to put Jesus to death. In typical Jesus fashion He answers Pilate’s question with another question, “are you saying this on your own behalf or did others say that about me?” If we notice in Jesus’ answer, he never denies the accusation, and never shuns the title of King of the Jews. He simply turns the question on top of itself.

Pilate then replies in an almost sarcastic fashion following Jesus’ response when he says to him, “Am I a Jew?” Even in his answer it seems like Pilate is doing all he can to find get this case dismissed. He tells Jesus that it is his own people who have turned him over to him for judgment and Pilate wants to know what Jesus has done to warrant death. Jesus then gives a most interesting response when he says, “My kingship is not of this world; if my kingship were of this world, my servants would fight, that I might not be handed over to the Jews; buy my kingship if not from the world.” Twice in Jesus’ answer he uses the phrase, “my kingship is not of this world.” The word that is translated as kingship also means kingdom, so not only is Jesus saying that his authority comes from outside this world, his kingdom is from another realm as well.

Pilate then asks a follow-up question – one that I see as a bit more broad than the first one he asked. In our game of 20 questions, it appears that Pilate is moving in the wrong direction. He asks Jesus the more general question, “So, you are a king?” Based upon Jesus’ reply, Pilate merely wants to know more about this kingdom which comes from outside the cosmos in which he claims to have attendants and servants who will fight on his behalf. Who is this person who is standing before him? What is he up to, and what is he going to do?

Again, to this question Jesus answers in an almost sarcastic and short fashion when he simply replies, “You say that I am a king.” There is no direct affirmation, and yet there is no denial either. However, Jesus doesn’t stop there, but continues his answer in one of the most incredible statements ever uttered by our Lord. The Incarnation is defined in the following terms, “For this I was born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Every one who is of the truth hears my voice.” Jesus declares that his kingdom and kingship is beyond this world, beyond this cosmos. Yet, it is for this very world that Jesus was born and came here. He did it for us in order that we might be able to experience the kingdom that lies beyond this life.

I know I said it a couple of weeks ago, but I’m certainly going to say it again now. Why does our lesson for today stop with verse 37?

I ask that question because of the question that Pilate asks of Jesus following his last statement. Personally, I believe that Pontius Pilate asked the most pertinent, most honest, and most important question anyone has ever asked. Verse 38 continues with Pilate asking Jesus, “What is truth?”

His questions of our Lord are the exact opposite of what one might expect in a game of 20 questions. He starts with the specific, “Are you the King of the Jews?” He continues with a more general question, “Are you a king then?” Finally, he ends with an incredibly broad question, “What is truth?”

It’s Pilate’s third question that is by far the most critical because it actually would have led him to the answer. His only problem was he didn’t wait around to hear Jesus’ answer. The Truth was standing right in front of his eyes, and yet, he didn’t know it or comprehend it. I often wonder what Jesus would have said if Pilate had not gone right out of the room after asking that question and tell the crowds that he found no crime in Jesus, and sought again to release him. Would he have listened to Jesus’ answer? Could he even comprehend what Jesus might have said?

How many times are we confronted with the truth, when it’s right in front of our eyes and don’t’ do anything about it? Sometimes our eyes are blinded and we can’t see. More often though, I think we turn a blind eye to the truth that confronts us. In our efforts to accommodate, and not offend, and be inclusive, the truth seemingly becomes optional.

In St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians he exhorts his hearers to “speak the truth in love.” He believed the loving thing to do is to speak the truth no matter what. The worst thing that we could ever do is temper or lessen the truth in order for the person to like what we have to say.

Pilate had the truth standing right in front of him, and he never knew it. He never knew that the King of kings, and Lord of lords was looking him squarely in the eyes with the eyes of love and compassion. The Truth does just that. He looks each of us in the eye with that same love and compassion and bids us to come and follow Him, to come and listen to His voice. The Good Shepherd is bidding us to listen to His voice, the voice of truth.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Audio sermons are available at the church website.
Please check go to the Audio Sermons tab at
www.stjohnsmoultrie.org
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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Scott Benhase elected on the 2nd ballot...results

Benhase 58 C 76 L
Gahan 17 C 41 L
Logue 25 C 24 L
Taylor 1 C 0 L
Willoughby 1 C 3 L
Zimmerman 1 C 2 L
Ballot # 1
Clerical Lay

Benhase 42 62
Gahan 19 42
Logue 25 25
Taylor 3 2
Willoughby 10 6
Zimmerman 5 9

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!

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.”