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


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

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

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

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

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

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

What do I mean by this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Tell the story of John 9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Why are we to rejoice during this Season of Lent?

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

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

What is the connection to Jerusalem and this rejoicing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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