23 Nov. 2008
Today is the Feast of Christ the King, the last Sunday after Pentecost, and the last Sunday of the church year—and it is truly an honor and privilege to be here with you all today!! This is a relatively new feast as those things go, instituted in 1925 by Pope Pius XI. It emphasizes the idea that the kingdom of Christ embraces all of mankind, that Christ is King of all. It was instituted to serve as a reminder that individuals as well as rulers and princes are to give honor and obedience to Jesus Christ, the King of kings.
This day and age in our country we don’t have a good grasp of what kingship is, of what it means to be ruled over by a sovereign. We live in a democracy, of the people, by the people and for the people. And even in England with Queen Elizabeth, she is more of a figurehead. A king, or queen, is a head of state, the ruler of a kingdom or territory. And like anything else, there are good and bad rulers. They can be very benevolent or quite dictatorial or even evil. In any case, most of us really don’t know what it means to live under the rule of a king, do we? But perhaps we should. . . .
The Bible talks a lot about kings, and even more about the Kingdom of God. In fact, God created the world to be in perfect relationship to him, the sovereign Lord, the King. The first kingdom was in Eden, where Adam and Eve were God’s people, living under God’s rule.
The problem came when Adam and Eve wanted to be kings too. Reminds me of Campus Crusade’s “Four Spiritual Laws” which asks, who is sitting on the throne in your life? Who is king? Adam and Eve wanted to be kings, and things went downhill from there. But from earliest times of salvation history, as early as Abraham, God spoke about kings. In establishing his covenant with Abraham, God said, “I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you.” (Gen 17:6).
Years and generations passed, and the Hebrews ended up in Egypt, subject to a harsh king. And God delivered them, and led them and guided them. He was their king, their ruler and their guide. He led their armies and provided for their needs—water and manna. But they rebelled . . . and wanted a king like the other nations. They wanted a king to govern them, to go before them and fight their battles. The Sovereign Lord God, King of the Universe was not enough. NO, they wanted to be like the nations. And after dire warnings about the results, God gave them kings. The first king, Saul, was not a particularly good king, and the second was King David, the shepherd King. David, a man after God’s own heart, made his share of mistakes, especially within his family. David’s son Solomon was the next king, and while he is remembered for his wisdom, he was an ambitious and even harsh ruler, requiring many of his subjects to work for his building programs. And so it went, good kings and bad kings. Even the best fell far short of the glory of God’s Kingdom. But in a sense the good kings, the good kingdoms reveal and point towards God’s kingdom. The good kings are types or foreshadows of God’s kingship.
In Salvation History, the prophets next speak to God’s kingdom. The Nation of Israel is divided, and the Israelites are exiled, and returned, and still God’s promised kingdom doesn’t materialize. But the prophets begin to speak of a new nation, a kingdom perhaps, where the hearts of the people are changed, and a new spirit is given, so that the law is fulfilled with and in them. There will be a new David, a Son of the King who will reign as God’s shepherd king over his people. Ezekiel speaks to this in our Old Testament reading, the shepherd king. But centuries pass before this king and kingdom finally materialize—in Jesus Christ.
Jesus is the true Adam, the one without sin. He is the promised seed of Abraham and the true and faithful Israel. And he is the Son of David-evidenced in the genealogies of Matthew and Luke. As the new king of David’s line, Jesus embodies and represents the people. And the kingdom is where Jesus now reigns, in the hearts of his people, and he is seated at the right hand of God the Father. This is where we go by faith in his gospel. We turn to Jesus, who is seated at God’s right hand.
The location of the kingdom is in Jesus himself-and Jesus is the messiah king, the promised one who will reign and rule forever. And we are his people and the sheep of his pasture. At the beginning of his ministry, Jesus declared that “the kingdom of God is at hand;” and yet, when we look around us at a troubled and broken world, we certainly don’t see the kingdom of God. When and where is this promised kingdom?
Jesus did in fact inaugurate the kingdom. Through his death and resurrection he accomplished the perfect work for our salvation and redemption. The gospel which is embodied in Christ gives us the promised glory—already. But as Christians all that we have and all that we are we possess by faith, faith in Jesus and his promises. We live in an in-between time. All the work has been done, it has been accomplished, but we live between faith and sight, between the already and the not yet.
And we believe that Christ will come again. Don’t we say that every Sunday? Isn’t that the hope of Advent? Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. “For the believer, the second coming of Christ will be the manifestation of his glory and of the glory of his kingdom, a glory which we already grasp by faith. For the unbeliever the second coming will be a manifestation of judgment;”[1] as today’s gospel tells us. “Jesus said, "When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.”[2] He will come as king and judge, and, as Paul noted in our Epistle, “Then comes the end, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father, after he has destroyed every ruler and every authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death. . . . When all things are subjected to him, then the Son himself will also be subjected to the one who put all things in subjection under him, so that God may be all in all.”[3] And he shall reign forever and ever.
When he established the feast of Christ the King, Pope Pius said this:
If to Christ our Lord is given all power in heaven and on earth; if all men, purchased by his precious blood, are by a new right subjected to his dominion; if this power embraces all men, it must be clear that not one of our faculties is exempt from his empire. He must reign in our minds, which should assent with perfect submission and firm belief to revealed truths and to the doctrines of Christ. He must reign in our wills, which should obey the laws and precepts of God. He must reign in our hearts, which should spurn natural desires and love God above all things, and cleave to him alone. He must reign in our bodies and in our members, which should serve as instruments for the interior sanctification of our souls, or to use the words of the Apostle Paul, as instruments of justice unto God.[35] If all these truths are presented to the faithful for their consideration, they will prove a powerful incentive to perfection. It is Our fervent desire, Venerable Brethren, that those who are without the fold may seek after and accept the sweet yoke of Christ, and that we, who by the mercy of God are of the household of the faith, may bear that yoke, not as a burden but with joy, with love, with devotion; that having lived our lives in accordance with the laws of God's kingdom, we may receive full measure of good fruit, and counted by Christ good and faithful servants, we may be rendered partakers of eternal bliss and glory with him in his heavenly kingdom.[4]
Amen.
[1] Goldsworthy, Graeme. The Gospel and Kingdom p. 120.
[2] Matthew 25:31ff
[3] 1 Cor. 15:24ff
[4] http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/pius_xi/encyclicals/documents/hf_p-xi_enc_11121925_quas-primas_en.html
Monday, November 24, 2008
Year A Proper 28 Nov. 16, 2008
Here's a true story: it's about pretty regular fellow, named Luigi Tarisio, [a carpenter by trade]. During most of his life, he lived alone and kept to himself. One day, his neighbor realizes that he hasn't seen Luigi today. Shortly, the neighbor and the authorities enter Luigi's house and find that he has died. Looking around, they're struck by the sparseness of the house. There are no pictures on the wall, no ornaments or figures and few shelves on which to place them anyway. And they discover something else. In the attic, they discover a fantastic collection. Put away in dingy boxes and the drawers of dreary old furniture, are 246 of some of the finest violins ever made. As the collection becomes public, folks discover that some of these instruments have been shut away and silent for as long as a 150 years. Someone said later that by their hoarding of these instruments, these collectors had failed both themselves and humanity. They'd deprived the world of incomparable and exquisite musical joys. They deprived themselves of the special joy of helping to bring it to the rest of us.[1]
Like fine violins, our talents are not museum pieces. They are not to be hoarded and stashed away. God has generously given talents, each according to his abilities. While we may wonder at the fairness of that, it’s easy to see it’s true. We are not all Leonardo da Vinci, one of the greatest painters of all time, who was also a scientist, mathematician, inventor, engineer, painter, sculptor, architect, botanist, musician, and writer. Whew!! I don’t know where he had the time and energy to do all that!! And I’m sure we could come up with dozens or hundreds of examples of people who are greatly talented. God gives talents according to our abilities. And these talents are both our privilege and our responsibility.
IN fact, our English word “talent” comes from the Greek word talanton, which means ‘weight, or sum of money’ just as in our gospel parable. In fact, it was a large sum; altogether the very wealthy landowner gave out nearly $2 billion dollars in today’s money!! The first two servants invested wisely, and doubled the master’s money. And they were rewarded by being given more, and by sharing in the kingdom. They were both told the same thing: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness.” Even though they were both given different amounts, they both were faithful in living up to their potential and giftedness, and both share equally in the greatest reward: the joy and presence of the master.
But then there’s the 3rd servant. He was afraid of the master, afraid to take a risk, and so he buried the money in his back yard. He didn’t lose anything, but neither did he gain anything! And in today’s economy and with the great volatility of the stock market, such would seem to be a sound investment, wouldn’t it. I’m sure there are many people who wish they had buried their money in their back yard!! As we know, investment requires risk. But the landowner calls him a wicked, lazy slave. His wickedness is related to his attitude towards his master, thinking him to be a harsh man; this lead to laziness and poor stewardship. “The way he conceives of [the master] causes him to fear and then to hide away the talent and not seek to advance the master’s capital. The servant’s misperception of the master had produced alienation, mistrust, fear, and then personal sloth. Had he truly loved his master, he would not have attempted to place the blame on him but would have operated out of love.”[2] He is blamed for not even putting the money in the bank to earn interest and so the master takes the talent and gives it to one who has been faithful. “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” Those who have a relationship with God are to be responsible stewards of their God-given abilities, using them with wisdom and diligence.
Our gospel reading skips the last verse in the story: the worthless slave is thrown into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth—seems like harsh treatment!! But this is a parable of judgment, of the Day of the Lord and the contrast is between salvation and damnation. The first two slaves are faithful disciples, and the third is not. “A person’s faithfulness is evidence as to whether he or she is truly one of Jesus’ own. As the disciples await the return of the Son of Man, they must teach that industriousness of discipleship is a testimony of one’s love and trust of Jesus as Lord. But their perseverance should not come from a self-advancing motivation; it should be demonstrated in serving others as Jesus did.”[3]
God has given each of us many gifts and talents. We have potential to become the person God has made us to be. We have the raw materials, the “stuff,” and it is up to us to use them wisely. Peter Gomes, a chaplain at Harvard, has expressed God’s response to us in these words: "I have given you what you need. Now it’s up to you. YOU must build relationships that lead to love. YOU must do the necessary sacrificing. YOU must be truthful. YOU must forgive if necessary. YOU must communicate. YOU must care enough to want to do all those things and more. I made you a loving individual when I created you in MY image. You can become what you already are."[4]
Our faithfulness as stewards of all that God has given us depends upon having an accurate view of God. Some people think that God is mean, vindictive, and doesn’t care about our fate. The wickedness of the servant in the parable is due to having an inaccurate picture of the master, thinking him to be a hard man; and this gave him an excuse to be lazy and irresponsible. There are numerous ways we can distort God’s image. In his book, A Case for Faith, Lee Strobel looks at several objections to Christianity which distort God’s image. Here are a few of them:
· Since evil and suffering exist, a loving God cannot.
· Evolution explains life, so God isn’t needed.
· A loving God would never torture people in hell.
While each of these topics is a sermon or study by itself, I’m sure we could add to the list. There are people who blame God for their misfortunes. I’ve heard of people blaming God for their lung cancer caused by years of smoking. Then too we probably know of people who are so bogged down in grief and blaming God for the death of a loved one that they cannot see the light of God’s goodness.
The first two stewards saw God as being generous and gracious, and they were motivated to risk everything to gain a great reward. And God responds by saying “Well Done!!” Great job!! “God is that kind of God, not a policeman who almost hopes to catch men in wrongdoing. The world is that kind of world: it finally rewards the venture of faith. . . Of what nature were these men who won their lord’s approval? They were prompt: they went ‘at once’ (vs. 16). They indulged in no daydreams and entertained no fears, but set to work. They were good, a word that seems here to mean devoted. Christ was their central concern, whether he seemed near or distant. They were faithful: full of faith, persistent, and nobly adventurous.”[5]
And their reward was to share in their Lord’s joy.
I am reminded of a favorite quote, by Madeleine L’Engle: “We have to be braver than we think we can be because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are.” I pray that we too may be brave enough to risk it all, and then found to be good and faithful servants who share in the joy of the Lord. Amen.
[1] http://www.predigten.uni-goettingen.de/predigt.php?id=1279&kennung=20081116en
[2] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, Zondervan, 807.
[3] Ibid, 808.
[4] Quoted at http://lindynuggets.blogspot.com/
[5] The Interpreter’s Bible, Volume VII., New York: Abingdon Press, 1951. P. 560
Like fine violins, our talents are not museum pieces. They are not to be hoarded and stashed away. God has generously given talents, each according to his abilities. While we may wonder at the fairness of that, it’s easy to see it’s true. We are not all Leonardo da Vinci, one of the greatest painters of all time, who was also a scientist, mathematician, inventor, engineer, painter, sculptor, architect, botanist, musician, and writer. Whew!! I don’t know where he had the time and energy to do all that!! And I’m sure we could come up with dozens or hundreds of examples of people who are greatly talented. God gives talents according to our abilities. And these talents are both our privilege and our responsibility.
IN fact, our English word “talent” comes from the Greek word talanton, which means ‘weight, or sum of money’ just as in our gospel parable. In fact, it was a large sum; altogether the very wealthy landowner gave out nearly $2 billion dollars in today’s money!! The first two servants invested wisely, and doubled the master’s money. And they were rewarded by being given more, and by sharing in the kingdom. They were both told the same thing: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness.” Even though they were both given different amounts, they both were faithful in living up to their potential and giftedness, and both share equally in the greatest reward: the joy and presence of the master.
But then there’s the 3rd servant. He was afraid of the master, afraid to take a risk, and so he buried the money in his back yard. He didn’t lose anything, but neither did he gain anything! And in today’s economy and with the great volatility of the stock market, such would seem to be a sound investment, wouldn’t it. I’m sure there are many people who wish they had buried their money in their back yard!! As we know, investment requires risk. But the landowner calls him a wicked, lazy slave. His wickedness is related to his attitude towards his master, thinking him to be a harsh man; this lead to laziness and poor stewardship. “The way he conceives of [the master] causes him to fear and then to hide away the talent and not seek to advance the master’s capital. The servant’s misperception of the master had produced alienation, mistrust, fear, and then personal sloth. Had he truly loved his master, he would not have attempted to place the blame on him but would have operated out of love.”[2] He is blamed for not even putting the money in the bank to earn interest and so the master takes the talent and gives it to one who has been faithful. “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” Those who have a relationship with God are to be responsible stewards of their God-given abilities, using them with wisdom and diligence.
Our gospel reading skips the last verse in the story: the worthless slave is thrown into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth—seems like harsh treatment!! But this is a parable of judgment, of the Day of the Lord and the contrast is between salvation and damnation. The first two slaves are faithful disciples, and the third is not. “A person’s faithfulness is evidence as to whether he or she is truly one of Jesus’ own. As the disciples await the return of the Son of Man, they must teach that industriousness of discipleship is a testimony of one’s love and trust of Jesus as Lord. But their perseverance should not come from a self-advancing motivation; it should be demonstrated in serving others as Jesus did.”[3]
God has given each of us many gifts and talents. We have potential to become the person God has made us to be. We have the raw materials, the “stuff,” and it is up to us to use them wisely. Peter Gomes, a chaplain at Harvard, has expressed God’s response to us in these words: "I have given you what you need. Now it’s up to you. YOU must build relationships that lead to love. YOU must do the necessary sacrificing. YOU must be truthful. YOU must forgive if necessary. YOU must communicate. YOU must care enough to want to do all those things and more. I made you a loving individual when I created you in MY image. You can become what you already are."[4]
Our faithfulness as stewards of all that God has given us depends upon having an accurate view of God. Some people think that God is mean, vindictive, and doesn’t care about our fate. The wickedness of the servant in the parable is due to having an inaccurate picture of the master, thinking him to be a hard man; and this gave him an excuse to be lazy and irresponsible. There are numerous ways we can distort God’s image. In his book, A Case for Faith, Lee Strobel looks at several objections to Christianity which distort God’s image. Here are a few of them:
· Since evil and suffering exist, a loving God cannot.
· Evolution explains life, so God isn’t needed.
· A loving God would never torture people in hell.
While each of these topics is a sermon or study by itself, I’m sure we could add to the list. There are people who blame God for their misfortunes. I’ve heard of people blaming God for their lung cancer caused by years of smoking. Then too we probably know of people who are so bogged down in grief and blaming God for the death of a loved one that they cannot see the light of God’s goodness.
The first two stewards saw God as being generous and gracious, and they were motivated to risk everything to gain a great reward. And God responds by saying “Well Done!!” Great job!! “God is that kind of God, not a policeman who almost hopes to catch men in wrongdoing. The world is that kind of world: it finally rewards the venture of faith. . . Of what nature were these men who won their lord’s approval? They were prompt: they went ‘at once’ (vs. 16). They indulged in no daydreams and entertained no fears, but set to work. They were good, a word that seems here to mean devoted. Christ was their central concern, whether he seemed near or distant. They were faithful: full of faith, persistent, and nobly adventurous.”[5]
And their reward was to share in their Lord’s joy.
I am reminded of a favorite quote, by Madeleine L’Engle: “We have to be braver than we think we can be because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are.” I pray that we too may be brave enough to risk it all, and then found to be good and faithful servants who share in the joy of the Lord. Amen.
[1] http://www.predigten.uni-goettingen.de/predigt.php?id=1279&kennung=20081116en
[2] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, Zondervan, 807.
[3] Ibid, 808.
[4] Quoted at http://lindynuggets.blogspot.com/
[5] The Interpreter’s Bible, Volume VII., New York: Abingdon Press, 1951. P. 560
Friday, November 14, 2008
Year A, Proper 27, 11/09/08
Back in the days when only young men prepared for pastoral ministry, a certain Dr. Eislen, president of Garrett Seminary, preached on [our gospel] parable in chapel. When he reached the climax of his message, he yelled at his seminarians, "Young men, tell me, would you rather be in the light with the wise virgins, or out in the dark with the foolish virgins?" Such laughter arose that chapel was dismissed early that day![1]
But seriously, folks . . .
If you notice, our gospel readings are changing from teaching about discipleship to teaching about the end times, the 2nd coming, the Parousia, the Day of the Lord. And in fact “The Day of the Lord” could be the heading for each and every one of our lessons today. Let’s take a brief look at all of them.
Amos was probably the first prophet to have his words recorded. He was the first to use the phrase, “The Day of the Lord,” about 2800 years ago. God called Amos, a herdsman, away from his flock to go and challenge the people in the town of Bethel, just 12 miles from Jerusalem. Now things were going pretty well in Bethel. Commerce was thriving, worship attendance was up, sacrifices were made as scheduled. But the people had become complacent. They were going through the motions. Israel expected the Day of the Lord—that day would be their day of triumph. God would intervene on their behalf, but selfishly they expected tribal victory. But God had other ideas, and in the words of Amos the Day of the Lord was to be God’s day. He asks them why they desire the day of the Lord, why do they want it to come, for it will be darkness, not light. It will be a catastrophic day of judgment, all doom and gloom and darkness. The Day of the Lord will be a terrible day of God’s visitation, a day of defeat because of Israel’s excesses and complacency. The next words are those of God himself, passionately rejecting sacrifice and feasts, offerings and music. God refuses to listen because they are not worshipping God in their hearts, they are just going through the motions. They are not humbly obedient, but arrogantly treating God as one of them. God calls not for worship and sacrifice, but for justice, a flooding torrent of justice and righteousness. We’ll get back to that.
The prophet is concerned for the day of the Lord as an occurrence within time and within history; the people of Israel were persuaded that human history is linear and purposeful, with a beginning and an end, and God was working out his purposes. One day God’s kingdom will come, “and the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (Is 11:9).
Our reading from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians also speaks to the Day of the Lord. The early church believed that Christ’s return was immanent, and as such were getting quite concerned at the delay . . . and now here we are two thousand years later, still waiting with anticipation. Paul’s letter was meant to address the concerns of the faithful followers, as some of them were dying and Christ had not yet appeared. And while I’m not sure how much of Paul’s words we can take as absolutely literal, as parameters defining the sequence of events on that Great Day of the Lord, we can get the flavor. Some denominations will point to this text as a literal description, and have built great scenarios on what will happen, but I don’t think that’s what’s intended. Paul is obviously addressing the concern of the church regarding some who have fallen asleep—those who have died, and others have raised the question regarding the relationship of the dead to the 2nd coming of Christ. Paul’s answer is that those who have died will be included in the same way as those who are still alive at the coming of the Lord. Paul’s language is vivid and dramatic and it’s easy to get distracted by the imagery, but these verses are primarily a glorious reassurance to those who are troubled. All who die in Christ, remain in Christ and will join with him in the Day of the Lord. And in fact, elsewhere Paul points to the very resurrection of Jesus himself as proof and guarantee that the church, the saints, will be resurrected as well. Christians can be confident of their future, that they will be with Christ, that death is not the end but merely a door to a better future. But this knowledge and belief should shape how we live—and we will get back to that.
In our Gospel we heard of the 10 virgins waiting for the bridegroom who had been delayed. It was getting late, and they were tired – as anyone who has participated in a large wedding will understand. They even fell asleep, waiting for the bridegroom to arrive, probably with his bride. These bridesmaids were tasked with providing lighting for the celebration that was to follow, and they had all brought lamps, and oil for their lamps. But when they waited . . . and waited . . . and waited . . . and slept . . . half of them used up all of their oil. They weren’t prepared, they weren’t expecting a big delay. Fortunately the other five had planned ahead, and had plenty of oil to keep their lamps going, but not enough to share. As the foolish women went off to buy oil—not an easy prospect in the middle of the night—the bridegroom arrived and went into the house, bringing the wise bridesmaids with him. They went in and locked the door, and the foolish ones were left out. So what’s the point? A couple things come to mind. First is that each of us individually is responsible for being ready for Christ. The day of the Lord will come and we will be held accountable. Our neighbor, our priest, our parent, our church, cannot be ready for us. We each must answer for ourselves. We need to have enough oil. We need to build up treasures in heaven. We need to be prepared, to have more than enough oil on hand. We need to get ready . . . and stay ready.
We are ready when our relationships with God and others are what they should be. We are ready when at any moment of our day, whether in the privacy of our home . . . or in the recesses of our mind, we are not ashamed to have the Lord meet us. We are also ready when we make sure that our children are adequately cared for, when we will not be ashamed at our credit card accounts being made public.[2]
Another way we get ready is to live our lives in light of our hope, in light of the Day of the Lord, in light of the Bridegroom’s return. And Amos tells us how: by justice and righteousness. We need to get outside of our selves, our comfortable churches, our smugness, and our complacency and do something about the injustice in the world, to take care of those who are in need. We tend to feel pretty good about ourselves this time of the year when we help a needy family have a turkey on the table for Thanksgiving - - and forget that they are hungry in January. We give away an old coat, a cheap toy, and forget that children need clothing in the summer. How can we make this a lifestyle? Believe me, I’m talking to myself as much as I am to you. How do we do righteousness and justice? What can you do today? What can I do today?
The Rev. Dr. James Howell tells the following stories:
Once Mother Teresa was invited to a hunger conference in Bombay. She lost her way, and arrived late at the appointed place. On the steps outside, she noticed a man, dying of hunger. Instead of going in, she took him, and fed him. Inside, they were talking about so much food supply in so many years, statistics here, statistics there -- while a real person was dying on the steps outside. That's how we do it, one at a time, not just talking, but feeding, touching. In our Church library we have a documentary on the life of Mother Teresa. There is this great moment when a wealthy woman from America finds Mother Teresa, whips out her checkbook, and says, "I want to write you a check to support your work." Mother Teresa looks up, shakes her head and says "No money." "What?" "No money." "You won't take my money? I have a lot of money, this money can help you." "No money." "No money! Well then, what can I do?" Mother Teresa smiled that inimitable smile, took her by the hand, and said, "Come and see." She led this woman deep into the barrios of Calcutta, searching, until finally she came upon a small, grimy child. Mother Teresa said, "Take care of her." and so the woman took a cloth, and bathed the little girl, took a spoon and fed her. And she reported later that her life was changed. Come and see. Touch someone. When Mother Teresa first came to the United States, she made a great speech in New York, in which she said, "You don't have to go to Calcutta to share in my work. Calcutta is wherever you are. Wherever you are, there are people who hurt, who need love. Find them. Love them. For in loving them, you love Jesus."[3]
[1] http://home.twcny.rr.com/lyndale/pentecost%2026A.htm
[2] Wilkins, Michael J. the NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. Zondervan, p. 818.
[3] http://www.day1.net/index.php5?view=transcripts&tid=435
But seriously, folks . . .
If you notice, our gospel readings are changing from teaching about discipleship to teaching about the end times, the 2nd coming, the Parousia, the Day of the Lord. And in fact “The Day of the Lord” could be the heading for each and every one of our lessons today. Let’s take a brief look at all of them.
Amos was probably the first prophet to have his words recorded. He was the first to use the phrase, “The Day of the Lord,” about 2800 years ago. God called Amos, a herdsman, away from his flock to go and challenge the people in the town of Bethel, just 12 miles from Jerusalem. Now things were going pretty well in Bethel. Commerce was thriving, worship attendance was up, sacrifices were made as scheduled. But the people had become complacent. They were going through the motions. Israel expected the Day of the Lord—that day would be their day of triumph. God would intervene on their behalf, but selfishly they expected tribal victory. But God had other ideas, and in the words of Amos the Day of the Lord was to be God’s day. He asks them why they desire the day of the Lord, why do they want it to come, for it will be darkness, not light. It will be a catastrophic day of judgment, all doom and gloom and darkness. The Day of the Lord will be a terrible day of God’s visitation, a day of defeat because of Israel’s excesses and complacency. The next words are those of God himself, passionately rejecting sacrifice and feasts, offerings and music. God refuses to listen because they are not worshipping God in their hearts, they are just going through the motions. They are not humbly obedient, but arrogantly treating God as one of them. God calls not for worship and sacrifice, but for justice, a flooding torrent of justice and righteousness. We’ll get back to that.
The prophet is concerned for the day of the Lord as an occurrence within time and within history; the people of Israel were persuaded that human history is linear and purposeful, with a beginning and an end, and God was working out his purposes. One day God’s kingdom will come, “and the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (Is 11:9).
Our reading from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians also speaks to the Day of the Lord. The early church believed that Christ’s return was immanent, and as such were getting quite concerned at the delay . . . and now here we are two thousand years later, still waiting with anticipation. Paul’s letter was meant to address the concerns of the faithful followers, as some of them were dying and Christ had not yet appeared. And while I’m not sure how much of Paul’s words we can take as absolutely literal, as parameters defining the sequence of events on that Great Day of the Lord, we can get the flavor. Some denominations will point to this text as a literal description, and have built great scenarios on what will happen, but I don’t think that’s what’s intended. Paul is obviously addressing the concern of the church regarding some who have fallen asleep—those who have died, and others have raised the question regarding the relationship of the dead to the 2nd coming of Christ. Paul’s answer is that those who have died will be included in the same way as those who are still alive at the coming of the Lord. Paul’s language is vivid and dramatic and it’s easy to get distracted by the imagery, but these verses are primarily a glorious reassurance to those who are troubled. All who die in Christ, remain in Christ and will join with him in the Day of the Lord. And in fact, elsewhere Paul points to the very resurrection of Jesus himself as proof and guarantee that the church, the saints, will be resurrected as well. Christians can be confident of their future, that they will be with Christ, that death is not the end but merely a door to a better future. But this knowledge and belief should shape how we live—and we will get back to that.
In our Gospel we heard of the 10 virgins waiting for the bridegroom who had been delayed. It was getting late, and they were tired – as anyone who has participated in a large wedding will understand. They even fell asleep, waiting for the bridegroom to arrive, probably with his bride. These bridesmaids were tasked with providing lighting for the celebration that was to follow, and they had all brought lamps, and oil for their lamps. But when they waited . . . and waited . . . and waited . . . and slept . . . half of them used up all of their oil. They weren’t prepared, they weren’t expecting a big delay. Fortunately the other five had planned ahead, and had plenty of oil to keep their lamps going, but not enough to share. As the foolish women went off to buy oil—not an easy prospect in the middle of the night—the bridegroom arrived and went into the house, bringing the wise bridesmaids with him. They went in and locked the door, and the foolish ones were left out. So what’s the point? A couple things come to mind. First is that each of us individually is responsible for being ready for Christ. The day of the Lord will come and we will be held accountable. Our neighbor, our priest, our parent, our church, cannot be ready for us. We each must answer for ourselves. We need to have enough oil. We need to build up treasures in heaven. We need to be prepared, to have more than enough oil on hand. We need to get ready . . . and stay ready.
We are ready when our relationships with God and others are what they should be. We are ready when at any moment of our day, whether in the privacy of our home . . . or in the recesses of our mind, we are not ashamed to have the Lord meet us. We are also ready when we make sure that our children are adequately cared for, when we will not be ashamed at our credit card accounts being made public.[2]
Another way we get ready is to live our lives in light of our hope, in light of the Day of the Lord, in light of the Bridegroom’s return. And Amos tells us how: by justice and righteousness. We need to get outside of our selves, our comfortable churches, our smugness, and our complacency and do something about the injustice in the world, to take care of those who are in need. We tend to feel pretty good about ourselves this time of the year when we help a needy family have a turkey on the table for Thanksgiving - - and forget that they are hungry in January. We give away an old coat, a cheap toy, and forget that children need clothing in the summer. How can we make this a lifestyle? Believe me, I’m talking to myself as much as I am to you. How do we do righteousness and justice? What can you do today? What can I do today?
The Rev. Dr. James Howell tells the following stories:
Once Mother Teresa was invited to a hunger conference in Bombay. She lost her way, and arrived late at the appointed place. On the steps outside, she noticed a man, dying of hunger. Instead of going in, she took him, and fed him. Inside, they were talking about so much food supply in so many years, statistics here, statistics there -- while a real person was dying on the steps outside. That's how we do it, one at a time, not just talking, but feeding, touching. In our Church library we have a documentary on the life of Mother Teresa. There is this great moment when a wealthy woman from America finds Mother Teresa, whips out her checkbook, and says, "I want to write you a check to support your work." Mother Teresa looks up, shakes her head and says "No money." "What?" "No money." "You won't take my money? I have a lot of money, this money can help you." "No money." "No money! Well then, what can I do?" Mother Teresa smiled that inimitable smile, took her by the hand, and said, "Come and see." She led this woman deep into the barrios of Calcutta, searching, until finally she came upon a small, grimy child. Mother Teresa said, "Take care of her." and so the woman took a cloth, and bathed the little girl, took a spoon and fed her. And she reported later that her life was changed. Come and see. Touch someone. When Mother Teresa first came to the United States, she made a great speech in New York, in which she said, "You don't have to go to Calcutta to share in my work. Calcutta is wherever you are. Wherever you are, there are people who hurt, who need love. Find them. Love them. For in loving them, you love Jesus."[3]
[1] http://home.twcny.rr.com/lyndale/pentecost%2026A.htm
[2] Wilkins, Michael J. the NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. Zondervan, p. 818.
[3] http://www.day1.net/index.php5?view=transcripts&tid=435
Friday, November 7, 2008
All Saints Sunday 2008
Good morning, friends!! What a fabulous day this is—and yesterday was! Amazing! And thank you all so much for everything you did to make yesterday wonderful, through your prayers, through your presence, and through your food. Thank you!
So, today is the Sunday after All Saints Day, and I’m so glad we have the All Saints readings. But you know, All Saints Day wasn’t really my first choice for ordination. I knew it had to be a major feast day and on a weekend. And so, when I first contacted the bishop back in March regarding setting up a preliminary date—contingent of course upon the final approval of the Standing Committee—I started in mid-September with Holy Cross, and then the Feast of St. Matthew. And then to October: the 4th was St. Francis Day—who doesn’t like St. Francis? But that’s not a major feast in the Episcopal calendar. And it was the Youthquake Golf Tournament. October 18th would have been cool: St. Luke’s feast day. St. Luke is one of my heroes, too. He talks about women in Jesus’ life more than any other gospel writer. And the Feast of St. Luke was my dad’s birthday. But none of these worked for the bishop, for one reason or another. We even thought about doing it after Synod, but there wasn’t a major feast day, and I think it would have been just too much. So it was decided: November 1st, the Feast of All Saints. And the more I thought about it, the more I was delighted to have this day for my my ordination day. I don’t have just one Saint to remember, I have them all!! I don’t have just Capital S Saints, I have all the millions of lower case s saints. Ordinary people who lived ordinary lives for Christ, and who have died and joined him in the heavenly places. Shopkeepers and undertakers, teachers and authors, housewives and monks. [We will sing about all of these saints at the end of the service, hymn 293]
One of the images I’ve had regarding ordination in the Episcopal Church—in a church with apostolic succession through the laying on of hands—is the image of hands through the centuries, passing on the mantle of presbyter or priest. Hands after hands after hands being laid on heads after heads after heads. .And all those saints celebrating with us both yesterday and today. And when I think about All Saints, I think of the Apostle’s Creed where we say, “I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy catholic church, and the communion of saints.” I think of the part of the Eucharist where we praise God, joining our voices with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven. And then we ask God to sanctify us—to make us saints—that we may faithfully receive the Holy Sacrament, and serve God in unity and constancy and peace, and we pray that at the last day He will bring us with all the saints into the joy of the eternal Kingdom.
With a nod to my Welch ancestry, which seems to includes a 7th century archbishop in Wales, the ancient Celts believed that All Hallow’s Eve on October 31, which we know as Halloween, and All Hallow’s Day—which we call All Saints Day on November 1, and All Soul’s Day on Nobember 2nd, were thin spaces. These were times when the veil between heaven and earth was especially thin and permeable. And so I imagine thousands and millions of saints, peering through that thin space, an opening in the curtain that separates the earth from the heavens. Stadium seating where there are no bad seats, no back rows, somehow reaching into eternity. All the saints, everyone who has died in the faith, very much with us both yesterday and today. And at the very front, looking on with great love and joy, is my Dad, who has never ever been more proud of me.
So those are some of the images I have in my mind of being ordained on All Saints Day. And it’s such a great reminder that we too are all saints. We tend to think of All Saints as being a Christian memorial day, remembering those who have died in the faith, but saintliness is also for those who are alive in the faith—it’s for all of us. Our sanctification—our sainthood---our being made holy---is one of those things that’s already and not yet. Because of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection, because he died for our sins once and for all, we are already made saints. In the book of Acts, Luke refers to the living saints in Jerusalem, the saints in Lydda, the saints in Joppa. Paul writes to the saints in Rome and even to the saints in Corinth—and the church in Corinth was as confused and dysfunctional as they come. Yet to Paul, to God, they were saints, not because they were sinless, but because they believed in Jesus.
To be a saint is to be sanctified, to be made holy. And we have all been made holy. We spend the rest of our lives growing into that. The work has already been done, it has been accomplished, but we need to learn how to be what we were made to be—through the death and resurrection of Christ. It’s kind of like when we get married, we are made one flesh, and we spend the rest of our married life perfecting that, growing into that, becoming closer to God’s ideal. And so in our holiness, we were made holy, bought with a price, once and for all, and we spend the rest of our lives growing into holiness, growing closer to Christ, closer to being his image, his arms and legs and feet in the world. Holiness is a gift from God, and all baptized persons are hagioi, holy, sanctified.
We are called to be holy, and like Paul said in Phillippians 1:6, “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” God will give us the grace to be what he wants us to be, but we still have to make some effort, don’t we. Not that we have to try to be saints, to work at it, but that we already are. And what does a saint do? She prays and listens. He reads and studies. They are involved in outreach and mission. As saints, we might be like sailboats. We don’t go anywhere without the wind, which we can’t manufacture or control it. We need, however to set the sails, to discern for each of us as holy ones, where the wind is at work, and how we can position ourselves to sail gracefully. One way to do that is to find out more about some of the Saints who have gone before. Pick one and read about him or her, read biographies, read what he or she wrote, and you might find yourselves inspired to become a little more saintly.
I saw a great little story this week about Anatole France, the French novelist of the late 19th and early 20th century.
Anatole France said that when he was a little boy he read the story of the life of St. Simeon Stylites, that strange gentlemen of ancient times who lived for thirty years on top of a sixty-foot pillar in Syria, and for some reason Anatole decided he was called to perform a similar act of saintly heroism. So he went into the kitchen, climbed up on the kitchen cabinet, and stayed there all morning. At lunchtime he got down. His mother, who understood what was happening, said: "Now, you mustn’t feel bad about this. You have at least made the attempt, which is more than most people have ever done. But you must remember that it is almost impossible to be a saint in your own kitchen."[1]
But of course we are called to be saints in our own kitchen, saints in our own homes, saints at work, saints in the world. And in a few minutes, in our Holy Communion, we will
“join with the saints of all times and all places, in heaven and on earth, celebrating the love, grace, and forgiveness of God through Jesus Christ. As we Commune this morning, we are joined in a mystical communion with ourloved ones and saints, past and present, in the company of Jesus Christ,and we anticipate that Final Day when we will be reunited for all eternityto share this great banquet in the presence of Eternal Light, Joy, andPeace.
[May we sincerely take to heart this prayer]
Almighty God, whose people are knit together in the one holy Church, thebody of Christ our Lord: Grant us grace to follow your blessed saints inlives of faith and commitment, and to know the inexpressible joys you haveprepared for those who love you; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord,who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now andforever. Amen[2]
”
[1] http://www.homiliesbyemail.com/Special/Saints/siqs.html
[2] http://www.homiliesbyemail.com/Special/Saints/sermon4.html
So, today is the Sunday after All Saints Day, and I’m so glad we have the All Saints readings. But you know, All Saints Day wasn’t really my first choice for ordination. I knew it had to be a major feast day and on a weekend. And so, when I first contacted the bishop back in March regarding setting up a preliminary date—contingent of course upon the final approval of the Standing Committee—I started in mid-September with Holy Cross, and then the Feast of St. Matthew. And then to October: the 4th was St. Francis Day—who doesn’t like St. Francis? But that’s not a major feast in the Episcopal calendar. And it was the Youthquake Golf Tournament. October 18th would have been cool: St. Luke’s feast day. St. Luke is one of my heroes, too. He talks about women in Jesus’ life more than any other gospel writer. And the Feast of St. Luke was my dad’s birthday. But none of these worked for the bishop, for one reason or another. We even thought about doing it after Synod, but there wasn’t a major feast day, and I think it would have been just too much. So it was decided: November 1st, the Feast of All Saints. And the more I thought about it, the more I was delighted to have this day for my my ordination day. I don’t have just one Saint to remember, I have them all!! I don’t have just Capital S Saints, I have all the millions of lower case s saints. Ordinary people who lived ordinary lives for Christ, and who have died and joined him in the heavenly places. Shopkeepers and undertakers, teachers and authors, housewives and monks. [We will sing about all of these saints at the end of the service, hymn 293]
One of the images I’ve had regarding ordination in the Episcopal Church—in a church with apostolic succession through the laying on of hands—is the image of hands through the centuries, passing on the mantle of presbyter or priest. Hands after hands after hands being laid on heads after heads after heads. .And all those saints celebrating with us both yesterday and today. And when I think about All Saints, I think of the Apostle’s Creed where we say, “I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy catholic church, and the communion of saints.” I think of the part of the Eucharist where we praise God, joining our voices with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven. And then we ask God to sanctify us—to make us saints—that we may faithfully receive the Holy Sacrament, and serve God in unity and constancy and peace, and we pray that at the last day He will bring us with all the saints into the joy of the eternal Kingdom.
With a nod to my Welch ancestry, which seems to includes a 7th century archbishop in Wales, the ancient Celts believed that All Hallow’s Eve on October 31, which we know as Halloween, and All Hallow’s Day—which we call All Saints Day on November 1, and All Soul’s Day on Nobember 2nd, were thin spaces. These were times when the veil between heaven and earth was especially thin and permeable. And so I imagine thousands and millions of saints, peering through that thin space, an opening in the curtain that separates the earth from the heavens. Stadium seating where there are no bad seats, no back rows, somehow reaching into eternity. All the saints, everyone who has died in the faith, very much with us both yesterday and today. And at the very front, looking on with great love and joy, is my Dad, who has never ever been more proud of me.
So those are some of the images I have in my mind of being ordained on All Saints Day. And it’s such a great reminder that we too are all saints. We tend to think of All Saints as being a Christian memorial day, remembering those who have died in the faith, but saintliness is also for those who are alive in the faith—it’s for all of us. Our sanctification—our sainthood---our being made holy---is one of those things that’s already and not yet. Because of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection, because he died for our sins once and for all, we are already made saints. In the book of Acts, Luke refers to the living saints in Jerusalem, the saints in Lydda, the saints in Joppa. Paul writes to the saints in Rome and even to the saints in Corinth—and the church in Corinth was as confused and dysfunctional as they come. Yet to Paul, to God, they were saints, not because they were sinless, but because they believed in Jesus.
To be a saint is to be sanctified, to be made holy. And we have all been made holy. We spend the rest of our lives growing into that. The work has already been done, it has been accomplished, but we need to learn how to be what we were made to be—through the death and resurrection of Christ. It’s kind of like when we get married, we are made one flesh, and we spend the rest of our married life perfecting that, growing into that, becoming closer to God’s ideal. And so in our holiness, we were made holy, bought with a price, once and for all, and we spend the rest of our lives growing into holiness, growing closer to Christ, closer to being his image, his arms and legs and feet in the world. Holiness is a gift from God, and all baptized persons are hagioi, holy, sanctified.
We are called to be holy, and like Paul said in Phillippians 1:6, “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” God will give us the grace to be what he wants us to be, but we still have to make some effort, don’t we. Not that we have to try to be saints, to work at it, but that we already are. And what does a saint do? She prays and listens. He reads and studies. They are involved in outreach and mission. As saints, we might be like sailboats. We don’t go anywhere without the wind, which we can’t manufacture or control it. We need, however to set the sails, to discern for each of us as holy ones, where the wind is at work, and how we can position ourselves to sail gracefully. One way to do that is to find out more about some of the Saints who have gone before. Pick one and read about him or her, read biographies, read what he or she wrote, and you might find yourselves inspired to become a little more saintly.
I saw a great little story this week about Anatole France, the French novelist of the late 19th and early 20th century.
Anatole France said that when he was a little boy he read the story of the life of St. Simeon Stylites, that strange gentlemen of ancient times who lived for thirty years on top of a sixty-foot pillar in Syria, and for some reason Anatole decided he was called to perform a similar act of saintly heroism. So he went into the kitchen, climbed up on the kitchen cabinet, and stayed there all morning. At lunchtime he got down. His mother, who understood what was happening, said: "Now, you mustn’t feel bad about this. You have at least made the attempt, which is more than most people have ever done. But you must remember that it is almost impossible to be a saint in your own kitchen."[1]
But of course we are called to be saints in our own kitchen, saints in our own homes, saints at work, saints in the world. And in a few minutes, in our Holy Communion, we will
“join with the saints of all times and all places, in heaven and on earth, celebrating the love, grace, and forgiveness of God through Jesus Christ. As we Commune this morning, we are joined in a mystical communion with ourloved ones and saints, past and present, in the company of Jesus Christ,and we anticipate that Final Day when we will be reunited for all eternityto share this great banquet in the presence of Eternal Light, Joy, andPeace.
[May we sincerely take to heart this prayer]
Almighty God, whose people are knit together in the one holy Church, thebody of Christ our Lord: Grant us grace to follow your blessed saints inlives of faith and commitment, and to know the inexpressible joys you haveprepared for those who love you; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord,who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now andforever. Amen[2]
”
[1] http://www.homiliesbyemail.com/Special/Saints/siqs.html
[2] http://www.homiliesbyemail.com/Special/Saints/sermon4.html
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