Rev. Sherry Black

B.Proper 14

2009-08-13T10:24:00.000-07:00

8/9/09 at St. Mark's and St. James

I received this in an email the other day:

Satan called a worldwide convention of demons. In his opening address he said, "We can't keep Christians from going to church." "We can't keep them from reading their Bibles and knowing the truth." "We can't even keep them from forming an intimate relationship with their Savior." "Once they gain that connection with Jesus, our power over them is broken." "So let them go to their churches; let them have their covered dish dinners, BUT steal their time, so they don't have time to develop a relationship with Jesus Christ.."

"This is what I want you to do," said the devil: "Distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day!" "How shall we do this?" his demons shouted. "Keep them busy in the non-essentials of life and invent innumerable schemes to occupy their minds," he answered.. "Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, and borrow, borrow, borrow..." "Persuade the wives to go to work for long hours and the husbands to work 6-7 days each week, 10-12 hours a day, so they can afford their empty lifestyles." "Keep them from spending time with their children." "As their families fragment, soon, their homes will offer no escape from the pressures of life!" "Over-stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear that still, small voice." "Entice them to play the radio, CD player or iPods whenever they drive. To keep the TV, VCR, CDs and their PCs going constantly in their home and see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays non-biblical music constantly." "This will jam their minds and break that union with Christ." "Fill the coffee tables with magazines and newspapers." "Pound their minds with the news 24 hours a day." "Invade their driving moments with billboards." "Flood their mailboxes with junk mail, mail order catalogs, sweepstakes, and every kind of newsletter and promotional offering free products, services and false hopes.." "Keep skinny, beautiful models in the magazines and on the TV so their husbands will believe that outward beauty is what's important, and they'll become dissatisfied with their wives. " "Keep the wives too tired to love their husbands at night." "Give them headaches too! " "If they don't give their husbands the love they need, they will begin to look elsewhere." "That will fragment their families quickly!" "Give them Santa Claus to distract them from teaching their children the real meaning of Christmas." "Give them an Easter bunny so they won't talk about His resurrection and power over sin and death." "Even in their recreation, let them be excessive." "Have them return from their recreation exhausted." "Keep them too busy to go out in nature and reflect on God's creations. Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, plays, concerts, and movies instead." "Keep them busy, busy, busy!" "And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences." "Crowd their lives with so many good causes they have no time to seek power from Jesus." "Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and family for the good of the cause."

"It will work!" "It will work!" It was quite a plan!

The demons went eagerly to their assignments causing Christians everywhere to get busier and more rushed, going here and there. Having little time for their God or their families. Having no time to tell others about the power of Jesus to change lives. I guess the question is, has the devil been successful in his schemes? You be the judge.

We fill our lives with so much clutter, so much noise, that we block out God. We forget that our hunger is for God, and we fill ourselves and our lives up with things that don’t satisfy, things that actually keep us from God. Somewhere else I read that one of the devil’s greatest weapons is distraction. We get distracted by our own worries, hopes and fears. We get distracted by television and radio and talk and news. We check email and blogs and search the Net. We fill up the silence, consuming anything and everything but the bread of life.

Once again I will take issue with the lectionary, wishing our gospel text starting two very important verses earlier, though I believe this was the end of last week’s text. Beginning at John 6:35 here’s what we missed:

35 Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. 36 But I said to you that you have seen me and yet do not believe.

These verses introduce our Gospel reading, and Jesus makes on of his I AM statements. I am the bread of life. Before he was living water, and now he is bread. The essential stuff of life. Bread and water. God’s provision. In the Exodus story of the Old Testament people grumbled and cried out for water and for bread—and received the gifts of water and manna. In the Psalms and the Prophets their hunger was for wisdom, for the sustaining presence of God. And now Jesus is that food, he is that bread. And still they do not believe.

In the next few verses Jesus confidently discusses his work and mission, because he knows that his success is entirely due to the work of the Father. Jesus is the one who is sent by God and God is the one who calls people to Jesus; those who come to Jesus with faith will not be cast out. And even that faith is a gift from God. It’s not so much about Jesus welcoming those who come to him as about taking care of those who the Father has given him. There is always a tension between God’s sovereignty, God who calls and draws individuals—and the responsibility of individuals to respond. The initiative is always God’s. It is God who supplies the bread of life, and anyone who eats of this bread will live forever.

Jesus is misunderstood—they grumbled because don’t know who he is. Sure, they think they know him. Isn’t he the son of Mary and Joseph? Don’t we know his family? They don’t know, they don’t see, that he is so much more than what they see. And Jesus doesn’t really defend himself against their complaints but insists that God is the one who initiates their faith, the Father is the one who enables them to see. He is the bread, he is the one who must be consumed. He said:

“This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."

Jesus is the bread who must be eaten; and we make the decision whether to eat—whether to believe—and receive the gift of eternal life. Jesus would give his own life, his own flesh as a sacrifice for the life of the world. He is the sacrificial lamb. Jesus is the bread of life and those who come to him will not hunger, those who believe in him will not thirst.

What is it that we hunger for—what is the bread that we pursue? What is our thirst, our insatiable desires for those things that do not satisfy? How do we try to feed our hunger? Better yet, how can we be fed by God? Remember, even religion, even the church can be poor substitutes for the living God, and will not satisfy our hunger. Being fed by God is simplicity and silence. Being fed by God is spending time with Jesus. It’s about love, about relationship, about Jesus the bread of life. It’s not about being a Christian, but about knowing Jesus and his transformational presence in our lives. God the Father is willing and eager to give us the bread that satisfies, to give us life and peace if we silence the noise around us.

I am the bread of life, the bread that comes down from heaven, the bread of eternal life.

You are what you eat.

July 19 Proper 11

2009-07-18T10:55:00.000-07:00

I have some friends, a couple, who told me about moving to a new town several years ago and visiting the Episcopal Church there, a church they intended to make their home. They were welcomed at the service and at coffee—and were invited out to lunch with the priest and his wife, and another person, a lay-leader in the church. They settled in at the restaurant and the first thing the priest asked them was whether they were liberal or orthodox. Needless to say, this couple was pretty taken aback by this question; so often our denomination has been characterized by being open to a wide range of thinking, a denomination that has encouraged us to think about our faith and the consequences of our faith for our lives without dictating exactly what that should be, what it should look like. My friends certainly didn’t expect to hear this kind of question. And I would hope that if they showed up here, we wouldn’t ask them this question!

We tend too often to label ourselves and others, don’t we? Liberal or conservative, progressive or orthodox. Reasserters or reappraisers. And those are just some labels being tossed around in church circles these days. Add in our political leanings: again liberal or conservative, democrat or republican. CNN or Fox News.

Even further: introvert or extrovert, male or female, rich or poor, black or white.

And I don’t think any of these are right or wrong.

But we start getting in trouble when we identify ourselves with certain labels, and demonize those who may be on the opposite end of the spectrum. When we think we have all the answers, and those who disagree are discounted, shut out and alienated.

In the 1st century, there were few people further apart than Jews and Gentiles. The circumcised versus the uncircumcised. God’s chosen people against the nations, never mind that the Jews were chosen to be God’s people in order to be a light to all the nations, all the gentiles. In his commentary, William Barclay further explains the alienation and hostility between the two, and especially on the part of the Jews. He wrote:

The Jew had an immense contempt for the Gentile. The Gentiles, said the Jews, were created by God to be fuel for the fires of hell. God, they said, loved only Israel of all the nations that he had made . . . It was not even lawful to render help to a Gentile mother in her hour of sorest need, for that would simply be to bring another Gentile into the world. Until Christ came, the Gentiles were an object of contempt to the Jews. The barrier between them was absolute. If a Jewish boy married a Gentile girl, or if a Jewish girl married a Gentile boy, the funeral of that Jewish boy or girl was carried out. Such contact with a Gentile was the equivalent of death (qtd. Stott, John. The Message of Ephesians. IVP p. 91).

And this is the situation that Paul is speaking into in our Epistle. He first reminds his Gentile audience that before Jesus Christ, the people of Ephesus and Asia Minor, called the uncircumcision, were without Christ—and now they were in Christ. Before they were alienated from Israel, and now they too were God’s people. Before they were strangers to the covenants of promise—and they were now no longer strangers but friends of the promise, included in the covenants. Before they were without hope, no anticipation of relief, and in Christ they have hope. Before they were without God, and now they had been brought into relationship with God. Paul explains that even though they—who are now in Christ—they had been far off, and now they were brought near to God by the blood of Christ. This is sacrificial language—Christ died in order to bring them—and us—into a relationship with God. He died in our place, for our gain. The work of Christ brings us close to God.

How does this happen? Paul explains that Jesus himself is our peace. Christ equals peace, and peace equals Christ. He is peace, makes peace, proclaims peace. We have peace with God and each other, and the peace of Christ breaks down barriers, walls of hostility that divide. “The law as a set of regulations that excludes Gentiles” (Snodgrass, Kyle. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. Zondervan p.133) is abolished. Gentiles are now included and accepted by God in Christ in the same manner as Jews. This destruction of hostility is accomplished by the Incarnation and especially by the death of Jesus—he took the sins and hostilities of Jews and Gentiles and all of us with him when he died, and in himself, in his body Christ creates a new humanity, a new people incorporated into his body. This brings peace and reconciliation. Through Christ’s death and resurrection we are brought into a relationship with God, and we are connected with each other in Christ. “Divided humanity is reconciled in Christ and joined into a unified, worshipping community” (ibid 134-5), a new man, a new race. No more name calling, no more labels, no more walls.

Through Jesus’ death on the cross, we have been reconciled with God and with each other. We are made one body to the end that hostility must cease. But it is God who by his grace always does the reconciling—he takes the initiative at restoring relations.

Jesus came to preach peace to those who were far off and to those who were near—to the Gentiles and to the Jews—and through him we have access to God by the Holy Spirit. It is by the work of the Holy Spirit that we are incorporated into Christ, united with each other, and have access to the very presence of God.

And now the Gentiles are citizens, part of God’s own household, fellow citizens, joined together, being built together as God’s people, the holy ones. Those who were excluded and alienated are now included and incorporated, sharing in the privileges that Israel has enjoyed as God’s chosen people.

The household of God is built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, and Jesus Christ himself is the cornerstone. He makes the whole structure possible. He is strength and security. He is the one on whom AND IN WHOM the whole building exists. In him the building is bound together—he is the cement. In him the building becomes a temple. In him the Gentiles and the Jews are built together to be God’s dwelling. All union with God and with each other is in Christ. The ones who were excluded from the temple now become the temple—God’s temple. Christ and his followers are the new temple, replacing the physical building in Jerusalem. In Christ we are a holy temple because God dwells in us. We are in Christ—he is our home. And together with Christ we are God’s dwelling place—we are his home.

When we consider the walls and labels that divide us, that become barriers to our peace and unity with each other, we must also consider what Paul has said about the wall of separation between the Jew and the Gentile—the wall that has been destroyed by Christ.

In his letter to the Galatians St. Paul explains that in Christ there is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, but all are one—in Christ Jesus. And that’s the key. We are one in Christ Jesus. We are one, united with him, part of his one body, when we are in Christ Jesus. When he is the center, when he is the vine. When we confess that Jesus Christ and his life, death and resurrection are the focus of our life together. When we hold fast to the uniqueness of Jesus as the way to salvation. When we hold forth the Creeds of our church—because they emphasize Christ. Jesus is the main subject and the center point of our creeds. Jesus Christ is the cornerstone. With Jesus as our center, as our foundation, as our cornerstone we are called to live in peace and unity. God in the flesh walked among us, died for us, was raised for us, intercedes for us, in order for us to be reconciled with God and with each other—in Christ. He is our peace. He is our unity. He is our reconciliation.

But when we forget Christ, when we fail to affirm the uniqueness and primacy of Christ, when he is marginalized and discounted, there is no hope of unity and peace.

Jesus is Lord.

Amen.

July 12 Proper 10

2009-07-18T10:54:00.000-07:00

Good morning!! Today I’m going to talk about geography, kind of a strange subject for a sermon. And, no, there’s not going to be a test. And it’s not about mountains and rivers, topography. It’s not about states and capitals. It’s a bit more personal than all that—our personal geography.

When someone asks where you are from, what do you say? For many that’s pretty simple, you state where you grew up perhaps. Or if you are traveling you might give the name of your home city or state. When people ask me where I’m from, it’s a little more difficult. It depends on the conversation, who I’m talking to, and discerning whether they want the long answer or the short answer. The somewhat long answer is that I lived in 8 states before I was 10 years old—my dad was a civil engineer in heavy construction and we went where the jobs were: dams, bridges, pipelines and such. Then we moved to Littleton, Colorado, and I spent the remainder of my childhood there. My young adult years were also spent in Colorado, and in 1993 Larry and I moved to Illinois—his home.

The short answer to the question as to where I’m from would be that I grew up in Colorado and moved to Illinois in ’93.

When someone asks you where you live, present tense, it’s easy to get pretty specific isn’t it? Larry and I live at 12806 Mallard Dr., Whittington, Franklin County IL, USA.

When we think about these questions, we do think in terms of geography, don’t we. Physical locations. But I’d like to challenge you to think differently.

Our Epistle today is the opening sentences of St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians—one of my favorite books. It’s in the standard style and form of a 1st century letter. When we write formal letters—probably almost a lost art with the advent of email and text messages, we start by greeting the recipient: Dear so and so, And we end with a salutation and our name, right? They did it a bit differently, starting by naming the author of the letter, in this case Paul who further identifies himself as an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God. And then he notes the recipients: To the saints who are in Ephesus and are faithful in Christ Jesus. Did you hear that? To the saints who are in Ephesus, a geographical location are also in Christ Jesus. In Ephesus and in Jesus.

The phrase “in Christ” is dominant throughout the 6 chapters that make up the letter to the Ephesians. “In Christ” or “in Him” or “in whom” appear over 30 times in this letter, and a third of the occurrences are in the first 14 verses, today’s lessons. We are to live both in a specific place, and in Christ. The Christian faith is to be such a union with the Lord that we actually live in him—he is our home. It is in him that we live and move and have our being. “To live in Christ is to be determined by him. He shapes who we are” (Snodgrass, Klyne. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. Zondervan p. 42). This idea will have implications for our salvation and for our lives in our churches and in our world.

Paul’s letter continues with a doxology, blessing and praising God for all he has done for Jews, for Gentiles, for us. The language is effusive and majestic, building and developing, setting the tone for the rest of the letter. There are so many riches and so much deepness in these 14 verses—just 2 sentences in the original Greek, that it’s impossible to mine the depths in a brief sermon. But since I started with geography, with the idea of being in Christ, we’ll look at a few of the benefits that come with being in Christ.

First of all, God blessed us in Christ to be holy. We are incorporated into the mystical body of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are in Christ, in his body and that’s where we reside. If we live in Christ, that defines us and our lives become more and more determined by the character of Christ. He is our environment. When we sin, we forget where we live. We forget our home—we forget who we are and whose we are. When we live in Christ we are empowered by his spirit, and we live progressively more holy and blameless lives. We tend to focus on Christ being in us, inviting God into our hearts, but the idea of living in Christ is much greater. “If we emphasize only that Christ is in us, we define reality, and Christ is about one inch tall. If we realize we are in Christ, he determines reality and encompasses all that we are” (ibid p.63).

We were chosen in Christ, destined and elected. God chose us first. The initiative is God’s, based on grace. We were destined by God for relationship with him, to be his children. This doesn’t remove individual responsibility, but our actions and decision for Christ are a response to his action towards us. The focus is on God and his grace. And our election is always in and through Christ. The question is not whether one is elect, but whether one is in Christ.

In Christ we are redeemed—we are set free from the bondage of sin through the payment of a price—the blood if Christ. Through Jesus’ sacrificial death he paid for our sins once and for all. In Christ we receive forgiveness. We no longer live under the bondage and tyranny of sin, but because we have been forgiven we live under the Lordship of Christ—we live in Christ. And all this is because of the riches of his grace that he lavished on us. In Christ we are inundated with God’s grace, God’s unbelievable and undeserved acceptance of us. The initiative is God’s and it is in and through Christ Jesus. It is grace upon grace, to the praise of his glorious and amazing and abundant grace.

In Christ we have the revelation of God’s will. In Christ, through the gospel, God’s purpose and work are revealed. The hidden is revealed. The mystery is made known. And God will complete his plan of salvation. The whole universe will be reconciled in Christ as Lord of all. The fulfillment of God’s purposes began with Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, and in the fullness of time all things will be united and reconciled in Christ.

In Christ we are marked with the seal of the Holy Spirit. When we become Christians we receive the Spirit as a deposit or guarantee of our life with God—marked as God’s own forever. The Holy Spirit is the payment of a deposit on our lives, a guarantee that our inheritance of life with God will be delivered.

To summarize, “God blessed us, chose us from eternity, graced us, planned for us, sent Christ for us, revealed to us, will sum up all things in Christ in whom we have a part, gave us the Spirit as a guarantee, and will redeem us as his own people” (ibid 66-7). And all of this is in and through Christ.

For Paul, salvation is not about asking Jesus into your heart so you can go to heaven. It’s about faith in Jesus, but a faith that results in being united with Christ, living in Christ. It’s not about believing facts, about reciting formula for salvation, but about being joined to Christ. Once again, it is in him that we live and move and have our being. He is our home.

When we live in Christ, wrong allegiances and tyrannies lose their power. Jesus is our Lord, establishing our very being. It’s been said that being a Christians is about Being, not Doing. It’s about being determined by our life in Christ. Our geography is that we live in Christ, and are part of Christ. We are not simply individuals, but incorporated into Christ Jesus and will more and more act in accord with who he is. All that we do, good and bad, involves Christ and we are transformed into his likeness. In his letter to the Philippians, Paul says that “he who has begun a good work in you will bring it to completion” (1:6).

Where do you live? What is your geography? What does it means for you to live in ______________ and in Christ. What’s the significance for ________ that you live in Christ? What’s the significance for Jesus Christ that you live in _________? We need to reconcile the place that we live and the Christ in whom we live. How are you called to live in Christ and in ___________? Where do you live?

B. Pentecost

2009-06-06T12:50:00.000-07:00

(St. Mark's and St. James')

When we get stressed and feel tense, our breathing becomes quick and shallow. One of the easiest ways to de-stress is to slow down and breathe. Inhale slowly, deeply, steadily, paying attention to the breath, feeling your abdomen, rib cage and chest expand. Then exhale slowly, completely.

I feel better already. ;-)

Focusing on our God-given breath is also a very basic way to meditate. We can sit quietly, focusing on our breath that comes from the One in whom we live and move and have our being. Short prayers can be added to the inhale and exhale, like little mantras. Often when I wake up in the middle of the night focusing on breath prayer helps me get back to sleep—otherwise sometimes my mind starts going off in all directions. So I’ll inwardly say “You are my breath,” on the inhale, and “you are my rest” on the exhale.

People who use the Jesus Prayer contemplatively also tie it into the breathing cycle. For me, it’s “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God” on the inhale and “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” on the exhale. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me a sinner.

Have you ever heard the phrase “Caesar’s Breath?” It’s kind of a scientific term, a teaching tool. It’s the idea that when Augustus Caesar was murdered by Brutus, he released an enormous number of molecules in his last breath, mostly nitrogen and carbon dioxide. Someone with perhaps a lot of time on his hand calculated that the number of molecules is .05 X 6 X 10 to the 23rd. 10 to the 23rd alone is a ridiculous number, a 10 with 22 zeros following it.

So what happened to all of these molecules? Some would have been absorbed by plants, and some by animals, and some by water, and the rest would float around the earth so that, with every breath we take, we inhale at least one or two molecules that came from Caesar’s last breath.

As we gather here today, you and I are exchanging molecules as we breathe.

Now think of our Gospel. “Jesus breathed on them and said, ‘receive the Holy Spirit.’” Jesus breathed on them. While we may be taking in Caesar’s breath, it’s just as likely that we are inhaling molecules from Jesus’ breath. And by his breath, we share in his life.

Because In the scriptures, breath is life. Think about Genesis chapter 2:

The LORD God formed a man's body from the dust of the ground and breathed into it the breath of life. And the man became a living person (v.7).

God breathed into it the breath of life.

And how about that strange story in Ezekiel—well much of Ezekiel is strange, but the story about the dry bones in the desert.

So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, "Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived . . . (37:7-10).

Breath is life. And Jesus breathes on the disciples and they receive his life in the form of the Holy Spirit. Christ’s breath, the breath he breathed on the disciples that day, is still circulating, still with us. And it is certainly greater, more powerful, more life-giving by far than Caesar’s breath. It was the very breath of God incarnate.

So just how does this event compare with the coming of the Holy Spirit in the 2nd chapter of Acts, our first lesson today? After all, our Gospel reading takes place on the night of the Resurrection, when the disciples are locked up in fear and Jesus comes among them. It’s the story of when Thomas wasn’t there, and a week later Thomas saw Jesus, his scars, his side, his hands, his feet, and said, “My lord and my God.” Surely it was the Spirit who enabled him to say that, even though he hadn’t been present that first night. But with Christ’s breath, the power of the Spirit was unleashed, perhaps like the act of conception, and the Birth, the ultimate gift, was given 50 days later, after Jesus had ascended to the Father.

In both cases, in the quiet breath of Jesus, and the powerful theophany of the Spirit in Acts, his disciples were entrusted with a mission. They are sent to do God’s work in the world, to be Christ in the world.

And as we have received the Holy Spirit at our baptisms, we too are sent to do God’s work in the world, to be Christ in the world. We have received the power of the Holy Spirit. The same power that transformed fearful, doubting, ordinary men into fearless, confident, extraordinary apostles and missionaries is available to us. The power to transform the world. The life-giving Spirit, the very breath of God is our breath.

Discipleship is not just about believing in Jesus, though that of course must be part of it. It’s also about the indwelling of Jesus the Son, through the Holy Spirit. By the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus lives in us, and we in him. “To receive Christ is to obtain the Sprit; to be filled by the Holy Spirit is to experience the living presence of Jesus Christ within. Christian transformation is Christ at work within us, bringing about his glory in our Spirit-led renewal” (Burge, Gary M. The NIV Application Commentary: John, Zondervan, p. 575).

In the book of Acts the giving of the Spirit seems to be about power and the outward manifestations of he Spirit’s presence, but in the Gospel that’s not the main point. In John the emphasis is on relationships, and especially the relationship Jesus wants to have with his disciples, both then and now. This relationship has its foundations in the work of the Holy Spirit. “Christian discipleship is a union with Jesus Christ that empowers and transforms, that is mystical, that exceeds our rational abilities to understand and quantify. To make it less is to miss the work that Jesus tried to accomplish with his followers on the first Easter” (ibid, 576).

One of my favorite personal prayers, especially when settling down to pray, will probably have new meaning now, remembering that with my breath I am breathing in elements of Jesus’ breath. It goes like this: “Lord, you are closer to me than my own breath. May each breath that I take deepen my awareness of your presence.”

The Holy Spirit is Christ’s presence within us, empowering us, and especially enabling us to have a relationship with both the Father and the Son.

I also love some of our hymns that focus on the work of the Spirit, and especially this one:

1. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
fill me with life anew,
that I may love what thou dost love,
and do what thou wouldst do.

2. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
until my heart is pure,
until with thee I will one will,
to do and to endure.

3. Breathe on me, Breath of God,
till I am wholly thine,
till all this earthly part of me
glows with thy fire divine.

7 Easter (Sunday after Ascension)

2009-06-03T10:01:00.000-07:00

(St. Stephen's)

I don’t know if it’s just me, but it seems like the older I get, the faster time goes. Anybody else feel the same way? It certainly seems like this year is simply flying!! It’s hard to believe that it’s Memorial Weekend—though it is a bit early, isn’t it? And can you believe that it’s been 6 weeks since Easter!! And that in another week it will be June? And schools will be out for the lazy hazy days of summer . . . and I’m sure for many of us the summer will fly by also.

So today I’d like to slow things down, turn back the calendar, go back in time to last Thursday. The Feast of the Ascension. This is one of the most forgotten, most overlooked major feast day in the Episcopal Calendar. Along with Christmas and Easter, major feast days include Epiphany, Pentecost, and All Saints Day. And of course Ascension Day. With apologies to those of you who celebrated Ascension last Wednesday with Fr. Swan and Fr. Tim, I’d like to take a closer look at the Ascension. After all, today is both the 7th Sunday after Easter—and the Sunday After Ascension Day.

The Ascension is the only Major feast that is never, ever celebrated on a Sunday—because it’s always 40 days after Easter, 10 days before Pentecost. It’s always on a Thursday. And while most of us can draw on special memories associated with many of the other feast days, maybe even besides Christmas and Easter, most of us probably don’t have great memories or experiences related to the Ascension of our Lord.

So I’ll share mine with you. Ascension Day is the day in 2003 that my father died. He hadn’t been sick really, and he was only 67, planning on a nice retirement. He and my step mom had just sold their house in California and were building one in Colorado for their retirement—lower cost of living. But on the day before Ascension Day, early in the morning, my step mom called me at work—I worked in the purchasing office of a big factory in Centralia. She said my dad had had emergency surgery the day before due to a ruptured colon. Asked her if I needed to come, and she said, “I can’t tell you that.” She was on her way to the hospital, and I asked her to call me when she got an update on his condition. She said, “I hope he knows me.” Well, he didn’t. He was basically comatose, the peritonitis had spread too far. And I caught the next plane I could manage out of St. Louis. She told Dad I was coming—and to this day I believe he waited for me. I later found out that his doctor tried to call me to tell me that Dad wouldn’t last that long. And if Dad’s heart failed they wouldn’t resuscitate him. As it was, he was on a respirator. But I got to California, rented a car, and drove to Santa Rosa. I got to his room about midnight, and at first it seemed his pulse improved when I got there . . . like I said, I know he waited for me. But within a couple hours his heart beat became more irregular, and finally fluttered it’s last. Like a butterfly fluttering off. Doris, my stepmom, got there a little bit later, and we spent some final time with Dad before going to their home.

By the time we got there I had been up for over 24 hours, and of course needed to sleep a little in order to face what was ahead. When I got up, Doris had read the Forward Day by Day devotional—and pointed out that it was Ascension Day. And that seemed so right, so comforting. Dad’s spirit had also ascended—and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I will see him again. I miss him so much . . . but I know we will have more days together in the future than we did in the past. And I always link the anniversary of my dad’s death more with Ascension than with the actual date—May 29th.

So, for me, the promise of the resurrection is one of the main promises of the Ascension. In fact, the early church linked the Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus so closely together that it seems that they should be hyphenated. “The resurrection-and-ascension.” When it comes to Jesus, you can’t have one without the other. The Nicene Creed states, “On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father.” And the Apostles Creed is similar: “On the third day he rose again. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father.” In our creeds, all that separate the resurrection and the ascension is a dot, a period. No forty days, no resurrection appearances, just a dot.

Paul talks about the resurrection-ascension in many places. In Romans chapter 6 he says 4 Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.
5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.

And in 1 Corinthians 15: 20 But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruit of those who have died. 21 For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being; 22 for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. 23 But each in his own order: Christ the first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ.

The resurrection of Jesus is the guarantee, the down payment, the deposit on our future resurrections. We will be united with Christ and with our loved ones who have died “in Christ,” and with all the saints and angels and archangels!!

There are a couple other promises that come with the Ascension of our Lord. After his ascension he was and is now seated at the right hand of the Father to reign and to rule over all the earth—we don’t see it clearly now but we will, we will. He is King of kings, Lord of lords, and he reigns over all creation. Our Psalm this morning spoke to this: The Lord Most High is to be feared, he is the great King over all the earth . . . God has gone up with a shout, sing praises to God, sing praises. For God is King of all the earth, he reigns over the nations and sits upon his holy throne. All the rulers of the earth belong to God, and he is highly exalted.

And Jesus is at the Right Hand of the Father, the place of power and prominence, interceding on our behalf. Romans 8:34 says “… It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.” There’s nothing and no one who can separate us from the love of Christ, the one who died, who was raised, who is at the right had of God, who intercedes for us!

Finally, this look back at the Ascension contains a look ahead to next week. To the promise of Pentecost. The promise of the Holy Spirit. In John’s gospel, Jesus promises to send the Holy Spirit, the Advocate.

15:6 "When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who comes from the Father, he will testify on my behalf.

16:7 Nevertheless I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.

And one of the lessons from Ascension is from Acts chapter 1:

3 After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. 4 While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. "This," he said, "is what you have heard from me; 5 for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now." 6 So when they had come together, they asked him, "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" 7 He replied, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." 9 When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.

The ascension of our Lord.

The Resurrection-and-Ascension of our Jesus includes at least three promises. Three that we’ve looked at today. The promise of our future resurrection. The promise of Christ’s reign and rule at God’s right hand where he intercedes on our behalf. The promise of the Holy Spirit. Check back next week and I expect that Fr. Tim will tell you more about this third promise, the promise of the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

May 3, 2009: Year B, 4 Easter

2009-05-09T13:05:00.000-07:00

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. One of my favorite bits of Hebrew trivia has to do with the 23rd Psalm, the last verse. We read it this morning: “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the day of my life.” But the word translated as “follow” actually means “to pursue, to chase.” Surely goodness and mercy shall pursue us all the days of our lives. The hound of heaven—or perhaps the Sheepdog of heaven--is chasing us down with his love and goodness and mercy, and there is nowhere we can go that he doesn’t come bounding after us, willing to lay down his life for us.

Now, when we say with the psalmist that the Lord is our Shepherd, we are declaring who we are, and whose we are. We are saying whose voice we will listen to.

In our Gospel, Jesus said that “his sheep listen to his voice.”

During the Palestinian uprising in the late 1980’s the Israeli army decided to punish a village near Bethlehem for not paying its taxes (which, the village claimed, simply financed their occupation). The officer in command rounded up all of the village animals and placed them in a large barbed wire pen. Later in the week he was approached by a woman who begged him to release her flock, arguing that since her husband was dead, the animals were her only source of livelihood. He pointed to the pen containing hundreds of animals and humorously quipped that it was impossible because he could not find her animals. She asked that if she could in fact separate them herself, would he be wiling to let her take them? He agreed. A soldier opened the gate and the woman’s son produced a small reed flute. He played a simple tune again and again—and soon sheep heads began popping up across the pen. The boy continued his music and walked home, followed by his flock of twenty-five sheep. ( Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: John, p. 302).

Middle eastern shepherds are still well known for knowing their sheep. And the motifs of sheep and shepherds are prominent in both the Old and New Testaments. In the Old Testament, God is the shepherd of Israel, tending his flock, gathering the lambs in his arm. Both Moses and David were shepherds, along with other righteous prophets and kings. But there were false shepherds, too, both kings and religious leaders. And the culture of Jesus’ day was very much familiar with shepherds and sheep. “In the desert at night sheep were often herded into walled enclosures. . . Such enclosures (still used today by Palestinian shepherds in the Judean desert) had waist-high stone walls topped with thorny branches. Such a pen was entirely for safety so that the sheep would not become prey to wild animals. One small doorway (or opening) in the wall served as the only entrance and exit. The shepherd would either close this area with dry thorn bushes or would himself serve as sentry in the opening (ibid, 289).” And as we heard in the opening story, sheep will recognize their shepherd, either by his voice through word and song, or by his melody. Shepherds are therefore able to lead their own sheep.

False shepherds might threaten the sheep. But the sheep who know the voice of the shepherd will not be led astray. They don’t recognize the voice of the false shepherd, and will instead flee from him. Jesus has the authority to call his sheep because he is God’s shepherd. He is the rightful leader, the true shepherd who goes through the gate, and he has the authority to lead the sheep.

Elsewhere, Jesus says he is the Gate, the watchman, “the sentry, the one through whom access to the sheep can be found. . . He stands in the gate, and any who enter without his permission are not to be trusted (ibid, 290).” This suggests that there are good leaders, leaders who follow him, leaders whom he knows. But there are also bad leaders, illegitimate shepherds, who are thieves and robbers. Perhaps these were false messiahs, of whom there were many in the 1st century, but more likely Jesus is considering the Pharisees.

Since Jesus is the gate, the sheep must enter through him. This is like the verse in John 14, where Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life, and no one comes to the father but by me.” I am the way. I am the gate. The sheep who know him find food, water, safe pasture. These sheep flourish under the care and protection of their shepherd and have life in abundance.

One of the questions this brings up to us today has to do with Christians and their leaders—not just religious leaders but also the multitude of voices that capture our attention. These voices may sound good, but there are false shepherds. We need to be discerning regarding the voices to which we listen, and the test is whether what they say and do is in agreement with the work and witness of Jesus Christ, because only Jesus is the gate.

I read about a survey where teenagers were asked who they turn to in times of tension, confusion or crisis. Their fathers ranked about 25th on the list and mothers came in at number 11. I know when I had a huge crisis at age 16, I spoke to dozens of friends and even my church youth group leader before I told my parents. In the survey I was talking about, music and personal friends were at the top of the list. These are the voices are teenagers listening to: Friends and Music.

We adults respond to false voices too. What about the prevalence of psychics and new age healers? Or take a look at the bestselling books every week. One of the current top sellers is by Dan Brown: Angels and Demons, which is due out as a movie in the next month or so. Capitalizing on his success with The Da Vinci Code—an entertaining and fast paced mystery that was also theologically heretical, and produced an almost cultic following. One commentator, Gary Burge says, “When people are in crisis, when they are surrounded by the dangers of the desert, they will turn to any shepherd offering a way out (ibid, 303).”

We listen to the voices on our favorite news networks, those that support our politics. We listen to the voices of hope, and the voices of gloom and despair. But our gospel message challenges us to be discerning of the voices we listen to. Who do we follow? What voices do we listen to? Where do we go for comfort, for shelter? We are challenged to measure these voices, these leaders, against the true leadership of Jesus Christ. Jesus is the true shepherd, the one who is the model for other voices. The test of any leader’s credentials is his or her faithfulness to the leadership of Jesus. When we hear a new voice, we need to ask ourselves whether this voices is consistent with that voice of Jesus revealed to us in the scriptures. We need to test these voices against the historic revelation we have of Jesus Christ.

I am the good shepherd, and My sheep will listen to my voice. Amen.

St. James’ McLeansboro 2009

3 Easter B

2009-04-29T07:13:00.000-07:00

St. James Marion

As a whole, we Americans struggle with our faith. We wrestle with it, trying to make sense of how our faith impacts our understanding of ourselves and the world around us. George Barna, the founder of a research group dedicated to studying the role of faith and culture along with actual beliefs and behavior, recently said

“Most Americans, even those who say they are Christian, have doubts about the intrusion of the supernatural into the natural world. Hollywood has made evil accessible and tame, making Satan and demons less worrisome than the Bible suggests they really are. It’s hard for achievement-driven, self-reliant, independent people to believe that their lives can be impacted by unseen forces. At the same time, through sheer force of repetition, many Americans intellectually accept some ideas – such as the fact that you either side with God or Satan, there’s no in-between – that do not get translated into practice.”

Barna also noted that Christians tend to be open to co-existence with other faiths. “Most people understand that America’s religious life is diverse,” . . . . “A majority of Christians are generally open to maintaining relationships with people of other faiths, and most are not predisposed to judging people of different faiths, such as Mormons or Wiccans. But that open-mindedness is sometimes due to their limited knowledge about the principles of their own faith and ignorance about other faiths as it is to a purposeful acceptance of other faiths.”
(http://www.barna.org/barna-update/article/12-faithspirituality/260-most-american-christians-do-not-believe-that-satan-or-the-holy-spirit-exis_

In surveying self-described Christians last year, The Barna Group found that 78% of these Christians believed in a God who is the “all-powerful, all-knowing Creator of the universe who rules the world today.” The remainder of these Christians, nearly a quarter of those surveyed, had other understandings of God, ideas inconsistent with the Bible (ibid).

When asked about the divinity and perfection of Jesus Christ, nearly 40% didn’t agree with this, believing that Jesus sinned during his life on earth. This is also inconsistent with historical and biblical teaching (ibid).

And this brings me to what is called the “Scandal of Particularity.” The scandal of particularity is basically the scandal of Jesus, the “difficulty of regarding one single individual man as being the savior of all men” (http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/scandal_of_particularity). It’s the problem of the uniqueness, divinity, and perfection of Jesus. The scandal is over the cornerstone that Peter talks about in our Acts lesson, the cornerstone that is a stumbling block for the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks according to Paul (1 Cor 1:23)—and to much of our world. Jesus who is the cornerstone, foundation, and centerpiece of our faith, Jesus who declares that he himself is the way, the truth and the life. Jesus who says he is the only way to the Father.

In a world that is increasingly secular, increasingly pluralistic and syncretistic, we Christians are accused of being narrow minded and politically incorrect when we insist that Jesus is the Savior, the only savior, for us and for the whole world.

In one of the commentaries, I read this week, published a dozen years ago, there was “remarkable true story about Harvard Divinity School.” Now I would think that a divinity school, a seminary, is supposed to teach Christian religion and theology. For example, the degree I received a year ago is a Masters of Divinity. Anyway, the story is a about a woman student at Harvard Divinity School who found that one of her professors was an agnostic, and subsequently

She inquired about the range of theological diversity on the seminary campus. “Anything goes,” came the reply. [The woman] pursued the point. “You mean no belief or absence of belief would keep one from being hired to teach theology?” “Only one,” came the clarification,” the refusal to endorse women’s ordination.” (Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: Letters of John, Zondervan. P. 60.)

Harvard Divinity School may have a different answer today. Another Christian group may have another answer: perhaps it’s the inerrancy of Scripture, or even certain beliefs about the 2nd coming.

But I think Peter and Luke and John the evangelist would disagree, that what is central to Christian faith is, well, Christ.

And that’s what I see when I considered today’s lessons.

In Acts, any time that Peter speaks, he speaks of Jesus. Today he is defending his actions before the spiritual leaders of the day regarding the physical healing of a man who had been lame since birth. Peter firmly declares that this was not of his own doing, but that the man was in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Jesus whom they had crucified, Jesus who is the stone that was rejected and has become the cornerstone. And Peter declares that “there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved.” The scandal of particularity. There is salvation in no one else but Jesus.
Luke tells us of one of the resurrection appearances of Jesus, and emphasizes his physicality. While the disciples were afraid, and thought that they were seeing a ghost, Jesus brings peace, and invites them to look at his hands and feet. He invites them to touch him and see, “for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” Jesus in a physical but transformed body who ate fish. Ghosts and spiritual beings don’t eat fish. They don’t eat, period. Jesus explained to them from the Scriptures that the Messiah had to suffer, and rise from the dead on the third day. In the name of Jesus, repentance and forgiveness of sins are to be proclaimed to all nations. And the disciples were witnesses—eyewitnesses—of Jesus’ life and death and resurrection. The scandal of particularity. Jesus was and is the Messiah, the Christ, the Promised One.

In his opening comments to a troubled church, John lays the foundation of his theology, and the foundation of the church. The Greek grammar is fairly complex, and a more literal reading might be:

“What was from the beginning: what we have heard; what we have seen with our eyes, what we beheld and our hands touched—concerning the word of life—and the life appeared and we have seen and testify, and announce to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was revealed to us; what we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you.”

John’s thought and discourse finds its center in the reality of Jesus’ personhood. Jesus, the Word, who was from the beginning, entered time and space and took up residence on earth. Jesus was a man they had heard and seen and beheld and touched. As John graphically announced in his gospel that “we have seen his glory” (John 1:14). This is the scandal of particularity; the scandal of the incarnation, God became a man. Jesus Christ entered time and space, and is a definitive revelation. This is, perhaps, the lowest common denominator for Christians. Jesus who actually lived and died and was resurrected.

And we can still see, touch, and hear Jesus today. Not in the flesh, of course, but in our Christian experience. It’s not just agreeing to a set of doctrines, but there’s a sense where discipleship is personal. Through our baptisms, through the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus lives in us and makes himself known, and we have fellowship with the Father and the Son as well as with other Christians. The foundation of healthy Christian community and fellowship are true experiences of Jesus. “The authenticity of our faith is . . . linked to the vitality of Jesus’ life within us. If Jesus is a doctrine, our testimony will be hollow. If Jesus is a person, our testimony will be potent” (Ibid, 62).

The scandal of particularity is the scandal of Jesus Christ, Jesus who is not just words, but is the Word, living in us, so that we might proclaim that there salvation in no one else, and there is no other name by which we must be saved. Amen.

2 Easter (B)

2009-04-19T11:46:00.000-07:00

Good morning! Happy 2nd Sunday after Easter—also known as “Doubting Thomas Sunday.” However When I considered all of today’s lessons, I saw much more than the story of “Doubting” Thomas, or more accurately “skeptical” Thomas. I see a theme of seeing, of eyesight, eyewitnesses, vision, and I think this is important for us to consider today.

In our lesson from Acts, clearly Peter proclaims himself and the other disciples to have been witnesses—eyewitnesses—of Jesus’ death and his resurrection. They had seen the Lord, raised from the dead, and this is the One who Peter proclaims.

Our psalm today spoke of the stone which the builders had rejected which became the chief cornerstone, and that stone is Jesus. He was chosen by the Lord’s doing, and the psalmist says “it is marvelous in our eyes!”

In our gospel, Jesus appeared first to the disciples who were inside a locked house. He spoke with them, and showed them his scars. Thomas was not there, but the ones who had been there told him, “we have seen the Lord.” Thomas the skeptic didn’t believe it, insisting that he had to see the marks of the nails in Jesus’ hands, and put his hand in the wound in his side before he would believe. And a week later, he had that opportunity. Jesus appeared in the house and Thomas was there this time. Jesus invites him to see and touch his hands and side, and challenges him to believe. As we read, Thomas does believe and in worship he says, “My Lord and My God.” Jesus doesn’t seem to be overly pleased with his confession, though. He says, “have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Now, since we are not eyewitnesses to Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, we are those who have not seen him and yet have come to believe. We see him through faith. And in seeing Jesus, we also see God the Father. In John 14, Jesus told Philip “He who has seen me has seen the Father . . . Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me?” In considering Jesus, we come to know what the Father is like. Because even though we weren’t there, we can visualize a man walking, teaching, suffering and dying. We can even get our minds around the resurrection, that the God-man was physically raised from the dead. After all, there were hundreds of eyewitnesses. And the gospels were written early enough that if it had been a hoax, it would have been found out. There is no doubt that something miraculous happened that day. In seeing Jesus with the eyes of our faith, we also see the attributes of the Father. We have been endowed with the Holy Spirit who aids us in this sight, who is our spectacles as it were. We see through faith. In John’s gospel and in the rest of the New Testament, we are shown “events in history that demand an interpretation and a response. . . . Jesus challenges all who come after to venture a judgment upon this history, that is upon his person, his presence through the Spirit in this particular community and through the life he offers" (Whitacre, Rod. John. Intervarsity press, 486). Faith gives us a vision of Jesus, and when we read the gospels, we “discover a vision, a knowledge, that invests everything in the historic person of Jesus Christ” (Burge, Gary. The NIV Application Commentary: John. Zondervan, 577). About people such as us, people who believe even though we have not seen Jesus with our own eyes, Peter wrote in his epistle, “Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

Sometimes it helps to think about seeing Jesus with fresh eyes, from a new perspective. The stories are so familiar to us that they don’t really have much emotional impact. So today I’d like to share a story written by Mrs. G. Tucker in Amarillo, Texas., a story of seeing Jesus, that says it better than I can. She wrote:

God recently allowed me to see Jesus through the eyes of someone seeing Him for the first time. Since most of us have the advantage of knowing how the story ends, we can easily forget the cost of our redemption and the love of our Savior.
Every year we attend a local church pageant that tells the story of Jesus from His birth through His resurrection. It is a spectacular event, with live animals and hundreds of cast members in realistic costumes. The magi enter from the rear of the huge auditorium, on Ilamas, descending the steps in pomp and majesty. Roman soldiers look huge and menacing in their costumes and makeup.

Of all the years we have attended, one holds very special memories for me. It was the year we took our then three-year-old granddaughter, Bailey, for the first time. She was mesmerized throughout the entire play. She was not just watching, but she was involved as if she were a participant.

She watched as Joseph and Mary traveled to the Inn, and she was thrilled when she saw the baby Jesus in His mother's arms. When Jesus, on a young donkey, descended the steps from the back of the auditorium (depicting His triumphal entry into Jerusalem) Bailey was ecstatic. As he neared our aisle, Bailey began to jump up and down. She screamed, "Jesus, Jesus! There's Jesus!"...not just saying the words, but exclaiming them with every fiber of her being. She alternated between screaming his name and hugging us. "It's Jesus. Look!" Tears filled my eyes as I looked at Jesus through the eyes of a child who was so in love with Him and seeing Him for the first time. How like the blind beggar who screamed out in reckless abandon, "Jesus, Jesus!"...afraid he might miss Him...not caring what others thought. (Mark 10:46-52)

Then came the arrest scene. On stage, the soldiers shoved and slapped Jesus as they moved Him from the Garden of Gethsemane to appear before Pilate. Bailey responded, with terror and anger, as if she were in the crowd of women. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Bad soldiers. Stop it!" As I watched her reaction, I suddenly wished we had talked to her before the play. I kept telling her, "Bailey, it's okay. They are just pretending." However, her response was, "They are hurting Jesus! Stop it!" She stood in her seat, reacting to each and every move. People around us, at first, smiled at her reaction. Then they quit smiling and began to watch her, as she watched Him. In a most powerful scene the soldiers lead Jesus, carrying the cross, down the steps of the auditorium from the back. They were yelling, whipping, and cursing at Jesus who appeared to be bloodied and beaten. Bailey was now hysterical. "Stop it! Soldiers, stop it!" she screamed. In her young mind she must have been wondering why so many people all around her did nothing to help. She then began to cry instead of scream. "Jesus, oh, Jesus," she said. People all around us began to weep as we all watched this devoted little disciple see her Jesus beaten and killed, as those first century disciples had seen. Going back and forth between her mother's lap and mine, for comfort, she was distraught. I kept saying, "Bailey, it's okay. Jesus is going to be okay. These are just people pretending to be soldiers. She looked at me like I was crazy. As she sat in my lap, we talked through the cross and burial. "Watch, Bailey, watch for Jesus!" The tomb began to tremble, and lightning flashed, as the stone rolled away. A Super Bowl touchdown cheer could not come close to matching this little one's reaction to the resurrection. "Jesus! He's okay. Mommy, it's Jesus!"

I prayed that she was not going to be traumatized by this event, but that she would remember it. I shall never forget it. I shall never forget seeing Jesus' suffering, crucifixion, and resurrection through the eyes of such a young child.

Following the pageant, all of the actors assembled in the foyer to be greeted by the audience. As we passed by some of the soldiers, Bailey screamed out, "Bad soldier. Don't you hurt Jesus." The actor who portrayed Jesus was some distance away, surrounded by well-wishers and friends. Bailey broke away from us and ran toward him, wrapping herself around his legs and holding on for dear life. He hugged her and said, "Jesus loves you." She would not let go. She kept clinging to Him, laughing and calling His name. She was not about to let go of her Jesus.

I like to think that God in heaven stopped whatever was going on that day, and asked all of the angels to watch Bailey. Perhaps He even said, "Now, look there! You see what I meant when I said, 'Of such is the kingdom of heaven?'"

Bailey's reaction should be our reaction every single day of our lives. When we think of Him...who He is...what He did for us...what He offers to us...how can we do anything less than worship Him?

“We have seen the Lord.” Let us rejoice and be glad!!

St James Marion 2008
Modified for St Andrews Carbondale 2009

Easter 2009 (B)

2009-04-19T11:45:00.000-07:00

I’m sure you have all seen movies where you don’t like or aren’t comfortable with the ending. Things are unresolved, uncertain, and you are left wondering what happened, or what happens next. We want things all wrapped up with a bow, all neat and tidy. All happily ever after. We want closure and justice and resolution. And so, we probably are much more comfortable with Matthew’s and Luke’s accounts of Easter morning.

But today we have the Gospel according to St. Mark, and the last 8 verses of the gospel. This is where it ends, with women coming out and fleeing from Jesus’ tomb, filled with terror and amazement. Women who said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid. An even more accurate translation of the Greek is even worse: “The women went out from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; they said nothing to anyone, they were afraid for . . .”

Afraid for what? Even in Greek, you can’t just end a sentence with a preposition, as we learned in basic grammar, and our English translations resolve this by saying, “they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

According to scholars, this is most likely the true original ending of Mark’s gospel, though in most of our bible translations one of two alternate longer endings is included. But this is indeed where the earliest manuscripts end. Like a song ending with an unresolved chord. “They were afraid for . . .”

There’s a story of a student

who had memorized the whole of Mark in order to do a dramatic, Broadway-style reading before a live audience. After careful study, the student had decided to go with the scholarly consensus regarding the ending. At his first performance, however, after he spoke that ambiguous last verse, he stood there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other, the audience waiting for more, waiting for closure, waiting for a proper ending. Finally, after several anxious seconds, he said, "Amen!" and made his exit. The relieved audience applauded loudly and appreciatively. Upon reflection, though, the student realized that by providing the audience a satisfying conclusion, his "Amen!" had actually betrayed the dramatic intention of the text. So at the next performance, when he reached the final verse he simply paused for a half beat and left the stage in silence. "The discomfort and uncertainty within the audience were obvious," said [his teacher] "and as people exited the buzz of conversation was dominated by the experience of the nonending."
(http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=3392)

So what are we to make of this, this non-ending? Perhaps the key is the first verse in Mark’s Gospel. “The beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” With Jesus, the good news began, the kingdom of God is at hand, and it hasn’t ended. It continues today with us, with Easter People, living this side of the resurrection. Like Paul Harvey might say, we are “the rest of the story.” And the promise that the resurrection brings won’t be resolved, won’t be complete, until Jesus returns to reign and to judge, and heaven and earth are reunited and recreated, and we too are resurrected. That’s the promise of Easter. That’s the hope of the resurrection.

But the promise of Easter is for today, too. Especially for today—Alleluia, He is Risen!! Through his death, Jesus conquered sin and death so that through our baptisms we too have the power to overcome sin, and ultimately death. Jesus cleared the way for intimacy with God so that we can also call God our Abba, our Father. The resurrection of Jesus is the down payment for our future bodily resurrections.

In fact, the Resurrection of Jesus is the highest point of our whole year as Christians. Our culture has it wrong. It’s not about Christmas, it’s about Easter. Jesus conquered death and the grave. New creation has begun. Something totally new, totally unexpected happened. While we have read that Jesus raised Lazarus and others from the dead, we know that eventually they died. But when Jesus was resurrected from the dead by God the Father, he spent time on earth with his disciples in a new and different kind of body before ascending into heaven, where he is seated at the right hand of God the Father, and he will come again to reign and rule the New Earth, the re-created earth, populated with our resurrected bodies.

We have come through 40 days of Lent, preparing our hearts and minds for Easter. Preparing for this day. Like the women coming to the tomb early that morning to anoint and prepare Jesus’ body. What normally would be done for a dead body was put on hold for the Sabbath, but as soon as the Sabbath was ended, the women set about with the proper kinds of preparations for Jesus’ dead body. With great sadness and yet firm resolve they headed for the tomb where they had seen Joseph of Arimathea put Jesus’ body after he was killed on that horrible day. As they approach the tomb, they wondered about ordinary and reasonable things, like would they be able to move the stone away from the entrance. But when they got there, it was already moved back—a nice surprise. So they entered the tomb, expecting to find Jesus’ body so they could perform their labor of love.

But when they went in, they saw a young man, and they were understandably alarmed. Someone, a stranger, was there, when the Lord should have been there. The stranger told them not to be afraid, and he knew they were looking for Jesus—how could he have known that? He explains: He is not here, he has risen. Look, this is where he was, and he’s not here. Go and tell his disciples, tell Peter, that he will meet you in Galilee as he had promised. And the women fled from the tomb in fear and they said nothing because were afraid for . . .

But of course, they must have told someone. And they went to Galilee and met Jesus who had gone on before. Jesus who has gone on before us, too, leading the way.

We have come through the long season of Lent, but let us make sure and remember that Easter too is a season. This is the Feast of the Resurrection, Easter Day, but Easter lasts until Pentecost. There are 12 days of Christmas, but 50 days of Easter. Fifty days!! NT Wright says that Easter is so marvelous, so special, so unexpectedly wonderful, that we need to spend at least as much energy celebrating Christ’s resurrection as we did preparing for it through Lent. We need to spend as much on Easter as we do on Christmas. We truly should celebrate with wild delight and amazing joy! Be extravagant and exuberant in our worship. Be Fools for Christ. Wright suggests champagne for breakfast, planting spectacular blooming, fragrant flowers in our yards and in our hearts. Looking for opportunities to go and grow and bear the most wonderful delicious fruit—through the whole Easter season.

Easter is what it’s all about. Jesus is not in the tomb. He is risen. And we are the rest of the story. What are we doing as Easter people? How are we sharing the joy and the hope of the resurrection?

We are Easter people when we give of our money to help those less fortunate: through food basket projects, or through Superbowl of Caring, or through helping various shelters and food pantries in our communities. We are Easter people when we work for justice in our towns and counties. We are Easter people when we do our work in a way that glorifies God, that is noticeably different to those who work with us. We are Easter people when we help those around us, especially those less fortunate: the poor and the oppressed, the hungry and the widows and the orphans, those in prison either emotionally or in reality. We are Easter people when we work at marriage and other relationships even though it would be easier not to. We are Easter people when we put aside our own rights, our own needs, and we serve and follow Jesus to Galilee, to West Frankfort (Marion) Illinois, to the ends of the earth.

In our lives, though, things are still unresolved, uncertain, and we are left wondering what happens next. The ending is not yet clear, the music ends on a discord, our lives are messy and relationships unresolved. Things aren’t all neat and tidy. They aren’t all happily ever after. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We don’t know all of the details of the rest of the story. But we do know that today is the Feast of the Resurrection, that Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. We know that “We are God's children now; [and] what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is” (1 John 3:2). The Lenten fast is over—Let the Feast begin!! Alleluia!!

(St. Mark’s and St. James’)

B: Palm Sunday

2009-04-08T08:35:00.000-07:00

St. Stephens Harrisburg

What does it mean to imitate Christ?

Undoubtedly it means different things to different people. It’s meant different things in different ages. In the 13th century, to St. Francis and his followers, it meant renouncing family and wealth, and any kind of material possessions. It meant simplicity and poverty, in keeping with Christ’s life. It meant begging for bread, working with the sick, and great obedience. Before he died, St. Frances purportedly received the Stigmata, the wounds of Christ in his own body, as part of his identification with Christ. It was the goal of the early Franciscans to imitate both Christ’s poverty and his wandering homelessness.

Are you ready to take this on? Ready to try it?

Fortunately, in our epistle today, Paul puts it a bit differently when he tells us to have the same mind, the same attitude, as Christ Jesus. We are to let the same mind be in us as was in Christ, to make our minds like Christ, to align our minds with Christ. But this is not just about our individual inner minds and attitudes, but more with how we relate to others. The “you” in the passage is plural. Perhaps a better translation is to “think this among or between yourselves.” Our relationship with each other should be characterized by the attitude of Christ, and in the next few verses Paul explains this.

Even though Christ, in his very nature, in his form, was God, equal to God, Paul says that Jesus did not consider his equality with God as something to be exploited, something to cling to. It was not an advantage or privilege but in fact led Jesus to empty himself and take the role of a slave. Christ made himself nothing, nullified his god-ness and took the nature of a slave in human likeness. A slave had no rights, so Christ did not hold on to any rights that would have been his as God. He gave up the privileges of deity and became a slave, in human form. He became identified with his humanity. Christ became human in the same sense, in the same way that makes each of us truly human. He manifested his deity by humbling himself to be a human slave. Mark 10:45 says that the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life for the ransom of many.

Paul next expresses the Deity of Christ as one who humbled himself to appear as a man, and to suffer death—even death on a cross. Jesus took the form of a slave, but went even lower when he obediently suffered death like on of us, but this death was by crucifixion. This was the lowest and most humiliating, the cruelest form of death. It was a death reserved for the lowest classes of people—it would have been extremely rare for any Roman citizen to be crucified. Citizenship had its privileges. But to be crucified usually involved various forms of torture and abuse even before being fastened to the cross by impaling, nailing, binding with ropes, or some combination. If the preliminary torture was not too severe, death would come slowly, perhaps over a period of days, as the victim suffered from thirst, hunger, suffocation, and blood loss—and the attacks of wild animals. A horrible way to die.

In submitting to death by crucifixion, Christ denied all of his rights, going from the Glory and exaltation of his triumphant entry into Jerusalem on what we call Palm Sunday . . . to the lowest of lows in his death by crucifixion on Good Friday—because of his love for humanity as an expression of his deity.

So Christ in his deity denied his rights by making himself nothing by becoming a human and a slave, and by humbling himself in his obedience to suffering and death on a cross.

And now God the Father takes center stage. After Christ’s humility and obedience, God took the initiative and exalted Jesus to the highest place and he gave Jesus the name that is above every name. Jesus was exalted to a place of superiority over all of creation; when he ascended to heaven to be seated at the right hand of the Father his superiority is clearly revealed. And God gave him the name that is above every name. A name fitting for one equal to God, a name that would be acknowledged by all. And so, at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Jesus Christ is Lord!

So Christ is held up as an example to the church at Philippi and to us. If we are faithful, humble, and obedient, we too will receive the prize. We will attain the goal. “Just as Christ’s faithfulness will lead to the universal acknowledgment of his position, so their [and our] faithfulness will lead to identity with Christ and resurrection from the dead on the last day.”( Thielman, Frank. The NIV Application Commentary: Philippians p. 122. )

Christ is presented as an example to the Philippians and to us. We are to pursue humility and put the needs and interests of others before our own, not counting our rights, but imitating Christ Jesus who didn’t hold on to the rights or power or privilege that being equal to God would give him. Instead Christ became a slave, the lowest of the low, and was obedient even to death. We are to pursue the same kind of obedience, and if we are faithful and obedient as Christ was faithful and obedient, the last day, the judgment day, will bring our exaltation.

When we believe and say that Jesus is Lord, we seek to imitate Christ, and our lives will be lives of humility, of self-giving service and obedience. Our relationships with others, which each other, will be characterized by humility, service and obedience. And God works in us to accomplish this. He works in us to help us to be humble. He helps us to serve. He helps us to be obedient. And on the last day we will have to give an account of our relationships with those around us. And we pray that we will hear these words: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of the Master” (Matt 25:21).

The Feast of the Annunciation

2009-03-25T08:26:00.000-07:00

NRS John 1:1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.

And because of Mary’s word, Mary’s yes,

14 the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

I sometimes envision all of Salvation history, all of the Old Testament, all of it’s people, pointing towards, funneling downward towards the Christ event: the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. But none of this would have happened without the obedience of a young girl, a girl who said yes, be it done unto me according to thy word. That was the moment in time that all of God’s work was pointing at. The one moment when Mary said yes, and God took off his divinity. When Mary said yes, the Holy Spirit moved over her, in much the same way as when the Spirit of God moved over the face of the waters in Genesis.

The Spirit moved, and God became a human embryo, confined in the darkness of his mother’s womb for 9 months, growing and then being born in the usual manner of human beings. The word became flesh and dwelt among us. And the world would never be the same. God became man. Divinity and humanity merged into one person, Jesus Christ,

who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross. (Phil. 2:6-8).

This was God’s plan from the beginning. It wasn’t plan B—it was the only plan, the plan for salvation. The plan to bring us into relationship with him. The plan where God has done everything for us, and all we have to do is say the word—yes.

4 Lent, B, 03/22/09

2009-03-25T08:25:00.000-07:00

St. James McLeansboro

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God--not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.” (Eph. 2:8-10).

These are the last three verses of today’s Epistle from the Letter of Paul to the Ephesians, and have variously been called “a summary of the nature of the salvation achieved by God;”[1] or a summary of Paul’s Gospel, or a summary of the Gospel. So these words are worth noticing and attending to.

Now the word Gospel comes to us from the Old English word “Godspel” meaning Good News, Good Message. Godspel is a translation of the Latin: Bona adnutiatio, or good annunciation, good proclamation. And this is the translation of the Greek word euangelion. Which of course means—Good News.

Now it seems to me that in order to have good news, we must understand the bad news. And that isn’t provided by the lectionary text given to us today. Kind of a criticism of the Book of Common Prayer lectionary in general: it’s heavy on good news, puts a lot of emphasis on building us up and making us feel good, but it doesn’t as often tell us why we need to be built up. If we need to feel good, there might be some reason that we don’t feel good. Otherwise, why do we need to hear good news?

The lectionary occasionally skips over verses; missing things that might make us feel uncomfortable. Ideas like sin, fallenness, lostness. Ideas like the wrath and judgment of God. Things we don’t like—but shouldn’t avoid.

And for today’s Epistle, the lectionary starts actually in the middle of a sentence (in the original Greek text). Ephesians 2:1-7 is one long sentence, very typical of Paul. So in order to understand the context of the Good News at the end of our text, I’m going to read the beginning of the sentence in verses 1-3. This is why we need Good News.

And you were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else.

That’s the bad news. That’s the reason Jesus came to proclaim Good News. The reason that Paul proclaims good news.

While this was written to the church at Ephesus, primarily to Gentile Christians, it is applicable to all of us. It is as true for us as it was for them. We are not superior, we are not more enlightened, we don’t have a better grasp on life. No, the truth of the matter is that we were dead through the trespasses and sins in which we once lived. Without Christ, we are dead. Dead because of our trespasses and sins. Dead because of our way of life, because of our walking in sin. Dead. Meaningless. Without Christ we have no relationship with God, and our relationships with each other are distorted. And the consequence of sin is death. Romans 6:23 says that the wages of sin is death.

We were dead because we followed the ways of the world, the worldly age in which we live, the world of evil, the world that is opposed to God, the world that doesn’t think too highly of God. This is a life of disobedience to God. A life of sin. Paul says that all of us, including 1st century Jews and Gentiles, including us today, once lived as disobedient, living according to passions, according to our sinful nature, following our cravings and desires. These are normal human needs, but distorted and subverted. The result of this sinful way of life, without Christ’s intervention, is God’s wrath. We are children of wrath. God’s wrath is his Holy response to sin.

Sin is universal. All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. But this pervasive problem does not mean that we have no value. On the contrary, we were created in God’s image, and though we have a sinful nature as a result of the fall, we still have enormous worth. We are still somehow worthy of God’s love.

And so, even though we were dead in our sins, even though the picture is not a pretty one, God acted. Even though we were dead . . . but God. But God who is rich in mercy. But God who is merciful just because he is that kind of God. But God, out of the great love with which he loved us. Because he is that kind of God. But God, even when we were dead through our trespass. But God made us alive together with Christ. To be saved from sin and death involves a savior, Jesus Christ. A gift requires a giver. By the gift of grace we are saved, not by our own merit, but by the mercy and love of God. The solution to our death is resurrection, a life infused with the life of Christ.

We have been raised up with Christ and God has seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. We are saved by both Christ’s death and his resurrection, and we have been raised and exalted with him. And not only have we been raised with him, we are already seated with him in the heavens. The world is not our home. What is true of Christ is now true of us. We are joined to him, and we are where he is. Because of Christ we have a life of privilege, honor, security, and responsibility. Because we are in Christ, under his influence, we have been changed from death to life, from the world to heaven.

By grace we have been saved through faith, and this is not of our own doing but it is the gift of God. It is not because of works, but simply because of God’s goodness and favor towards us. Though we deserved God’s wrath because of our sinfulness, we instead are the blessed recipients of his saving grace. This is God’s merciful, loving, grace-filled nature. Grace is God’s gift of himself to us, and this very grace connects us, joins us with Christ. And we receive this grace only by our faith. We are saved by grace, not by faith; we receive grace by our faith. “Grace is a gift from the trustworthy God, whom we believe.”[2]
This gift of God, this grace, is, again, not the result of our works, not something we can achieve or do. It’s not about any condition or accomplishment of our own. It is not something we can do anything to acquire. There is nothing we can do to improve our standing before God. The only thing we can boast about is what God has done for us. All we have, all we are, all we do comes from God.

We are what he has made us. We are his workmanship, his artistry, created for good works which God has prepared for us to walk in. We are God’s masterpiece, the result of his and only his creative and redemptive activity. We only receive the gift that is offered. And as his creatures, we are also called to be creative and active and productive, doing good works, living in obedience, being good neighbors: loving our neighbors as ourselves. Good works are the consequence of God’s grace and our salvation. Good works, performed out of love, gratitude, and obedience are the evidence that we have been transformed.

I think part of the problem we have with this whole passage is that we don’t take it seriously. We don’t believe that we are as bad as Paul says we are. After all, we think we are pretty decent folks, thank you very much. But . . . we also don’t believe that we are as good as he says we are. Does God really love us that much? Are we really raised up with Christ? What does that mean? It means that with God we have hope. With God we have value.

Paul clearly states that our condition without God is impossible, fatal. Life without God is meaningless, transitory, chasing after the wind. We don’t like to think about sin and death, but look at the evil in our society. Look at suicide rates, at alcohol and drug abuse, at the greed that has contributed to the current economic crisis. We don’t like the idea of being dead in our trespasses and our sins, but when we choose to live without God, that is in fact our reality. When we ignore God, that’s sin.

We also don’t like the idea of the wrath of God. After all, we prefer a loving, feel good God, made in our image. A wrathful God, we think, is so old-fashioned, so yesterday, so Old Testament. But the whole Bible, the whole story of from the fall to the coming of Jesus to the book of the Revelation, it’s all the story of a holy and wrathful God’s response to sin and disobedience. Just as hate is not the opposite of love, so wrath is not the opposite of love. God’s wrath in fact expresses his love for the world. “If God can look at the sin and injustice in this world and not get angry, he is not much of a God! The God of the Bible is not some immovable, unfeeling force, but a God who cares.”[3] And this loving God’s holy nature abhors our sins. It is as bad as he says it is.

But because of his great love for us, love that supersedes his wrath, and while we were still dead in our sin, he sent his Son to die for us. And by his death, our sinfulness is put to death and we are joined with him and raised with him. From death to life. Jesus’ victory over sin and death determine who we really are: We are united with Christ and raised with him. The same power which raised Christ from the dead is available to us who believe.[4] We are as good as Paul says we are. And this, this is the Good News.
[1] Lincoln, Andrew T. Word Biblical Commentary: Ephesians p. 84
[2] Snodgrass, Kyle. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. P. 105.
[3] Ibid, 111.
[4] Eph 1:19-20

2 Lent (B)

2009-03-09T06:48:00.000-07:00

St. Mark's and St. James

In most Episcopal churches we use a lectionary for our Sunday readings—we are using the lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer. In fact, today’s readings are listed at the bottom of page 902 in your prayer books. The readings for the weeks and months ahead are all there.

There’s also a lectionary called the Revised Common Lectionary, which many Episcopal churches use, and it is also used by the Roman Catholic church, the Evangelical Lutheran church, the Missouri Synod Lutherans, the Presbyterians, and many others.

For some of you who have come to the Episcopal Church from another tradition, this may seem very rigid, and quite a strange idea, but there are many advantages, I think. I appreciate that there are selected readings, that I don’t have to come up with ideas on my own—who knows where that would lead us! The 3 year lectionary moves fairly systematically through the 3 synoptic gospels, with John’s gospel sprinkled in (and in fact we hear from John next week); we are in Year B which focuses on the Gospel according to St. Mark. And on any given Sunday I could preach on the Old Testament reading, or the Psalm, or the Epistle, or the Gospel, or any combination of the above, because they are meant to tie together somewhat. The lectionary is also tied to the seasons. In Advent we hear about the Coming One, both the baby in the manger, and the one who will come and rule the world. In Epiphany, Jesus is gradually revealed as Son of God, Son of Man, Messiah. Readings in Lent tend to focus our attention on self-denial, on preparation for the suffering and death of our Lord, and what is required of us as his disciples.

But one big disadvantage is that readings don’t always flow in sequence. In Epiphany we did work systematically through the 1st chapter of Mark, but then two weeks ago we jumped ahead to the Transfiguration in chapter 9. And last week we were back in chapter one, revisiting Jesus’ baptism and temptation, and today we are in chapter 8. I might suggest that, since this year we are focused on Mark, you sit down and read it in one sitting—it won’t take much more than an hour—in order to get the feel and the flow of Mark. Perhaps a good Lenten discipline.

Now, if you were here two weeks ago when we looked at the transfiguration, I tried to put it in context by looking back at chapter 8—I had a seminary professor who always, always said that Context is King. It’s hard to understand what is going on when you lift a few verses out of context. We need to know what’s gone on before for things to make sense.

And the lectionary certainly doesn’t do that very well. In fact, there’s no way that we can know what happened just before today’s Gospel reading. But what just happened is a big deal. Jesus asked the disciples who they think he is, and after kicking around a few ideas, Peter puts their hopes into words: You are the Messiah, the Christ, the promised one! And then, Peter and the disciples were rebuked, warned not to tell anyone! I think this is because they didn’t have the right understanding of the Messiah. They believed that “the Messiah would be a royal figure, the offspring of David, whom God would empower to deliver Israel from her foes.”[1] He would be a triumphant and wise king, a victorious conqueror. I’m sure the disciples had visions of triumph and majesty that clouded their understanding—and great dreams that they themselves would be a part of it all. But this triumphant king was not quite the Messiah they got, and they certainly didn’t understand it all until after Jesus died and rose again.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. After rebuking Peter, we come to today’s reading where Jesus began to explain that the Messiah, the Son of Man, isn’t a conquering king, but that he must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the powers that be, and that he would be killed, and then after 3 days he would rise again. And our beloved and outspoken Peter would have none of this. And I’m sure he didn’t even hear the part about rising again. The Messiah would suffer and die!? What an offensive idea! This doesn’t have to be! The picture of Messiah on the one hand, and the picture of his suffering and death on the other, were incompatible, irreconcilable. This can’t be! It’s like saying that the sky is down and the earth is up. The sun rises in the west. There’s no way this is going to happen, not if Peter can help it. So Peter told him that, that it doesn’t have to be this way. And Jesus rebuked Peter, one of his closest friends, for setting his mind on human things, on having things his way. Jesus must go to Jerusalem, he must suffer and die and rise again. The same Spirit that drove him into the wilderness to be tempted in last week’s reading now drives him towards his destiny.

After rebuking Peter, Jesus called the crowd and his disciples: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” I’m surprised he had any disciples left after this!! Deny themselves, and follow, well they had done that. After all, they had left their lives and their livelihood to follow this teacher. But to take up the cross, that was another thing entirely. The cross was the Roman instrument of capital punishment. The cross was a symbol of oppression and tyranny. The cross was extremely painful torture. And, ultimately, the cross was death. Who wants that? Jesus appeals to their desire to save their own lives as justification for this cross-bearing: in order to save your life you must lose it, and those who lose their lives will find life. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world if they lose their lives? What are their lives, anyway? What can they give in return for their life—but their life. Jesus concludes by warning that those who are ashamed Jesus, of them the Son of man will be ashamed when he comes in judgment. So the better part of wisdom would suggest that it’s better to follow him.

There is a cost to discipleship. If we are to follow Jesus, if we are to be his disciples, we are to deny ourselves, and take up our cross, and follow. To deny ourselves is not just giving up something for Lent. It’s not self-discipline. To deny ourselves is to say “Yes” to God and “NO” to ourselves. It is to disown ourselves, to renounce our right to do things our way. It’s taking our sinful passions and desires and nailing them to the cross. It is to live no longer for ourselves, but for Christ, who died for us and was raised for us (2 Cor 5:15) . What is it that keeps you from giving your life over to God? What are you holding on to? That is what you must nail to the cross.

To take up our cross is to live lives of self-sacrifice, to lay down our lives for each other. It means being willing to suffer, to be shamed, to be rejected as fools for following Jesus. The cross is not a fashion accessory. It’s not some physical affliction, or troublesome family member. It’s not the skeletons in your closet—we all have them. It’s not catastrophe. “The cross represents the oppression caused by humans who oppose the faith and witness of Christians.”[2] It’s about being more concerned for the other than we are for ourselves. To be a disciple, to deny ourselves and take up the cross and follow Christ is a strong challenge and a high calling. It’s not easy or comfortable to be a disciple. And we can’t do it on our own. We can’t do it on our own, but we can do it with Christ’s help. But even so, to be a disciple is a costly proposition.

But what are the costs of not being a disciple, of not following Christ, of not denying ourselves and picking up the cross and following Jesus? Dallas Willard puts it this way:

Nondiscipleship costs abiding peace, a life penetrated throughout by love, faith that sees everything in the light of God’s overriding governance for good, hopefulness that stands firm in the most discouraging of circumstances, power to do what is right and withstand the forces of evil. In short, it costs exactly that abundance of life Jesus said he came to bring (John 10:10). The cross-shaped yoke of Christ is after all an instrument of liberation and power to those who live in it with him and learn the meekness and lowliness of heart that brings rest to the soul.[3]

Peter and the others chose the path of discipleship. And we too have a choice: the challenge of discipleship and all its costly demands, or non-discipleship which ultimately costs us our lives. What will it profit us to gain the whole world, and lose our lives? Amen.
[1] Garland, David E. The NIV Application Commentary: Mark. Zondervan, p. 323.
[2] Ibid, 334-5.
[3] Willard, Dallas. The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding how God Changes Lives. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1988, p.263.

1 Lent (B)

2009-03-04T08:25:00.000-08:00

As some of you may know, I am a member of that increasingly rare species, a cradle Episcopalian, baptized as an infant in an Episcopal Church in Phoenix, AZ. Growing up we usually lived in small towns where there was no Episcopal Church, so my sister and I went to Sunday school in whatever protestant church was convenient. But I do remember my family often made it a point to drive to an Episcopal Church on Christmas Eve and Easter. Then, when I was ten we moved to Littleton Colorado, and became involved in a church, St. Timothy’s Episcopal Church. I was confirmed there, active in youth groups and so on. Later on I was married in an Episcopal church, active in the Episcopal Cursillo, active in church until my mid-twenties when my first husband and I divorced. Then for a number of reasons, I wandered away and I was gone for about fifteen years. Larry and I were married in a Methodist church, and we tried a few different churches in the early years of our marriage, but didn’t ever really settle in. When life crises finally caught up with us and caused us to consider that religion and God may be of some help, we went to a little Methodist church in the town where we lived. Larry was baptized there, and we were welcomed with open arms.

But deep down my heart yearned for the Episcopal Church. Larry and I were having some problems, and I wanted the comfort of the Eucharist. I longed for the rhythm and cycle of the liturgical seasons. I missed the recitation of psalms, the pattern of our form of worship. I’d even listen to Catholic Mass on EWTN because it sounded familiar, it sounded “right.” Someone told me that once you’ve been immersed in a liturgical worship experience, it’s hard to feel satisfied by other styles, and I felt that, I believed that, yearned for that, and eventually made my way back. And it was like coming home.

The rhythm and cycle of the seasons add both depth and meaning to the Christian year, I think, and many denominations don’t pay them much attention. From Advent we move to Christmas, from Christmas to Epiphany, from Epiphany to Lent, from Lent to Holy Week and Easter, and then to Pentecost, the long green season, and then it starts all over again.

Here we are in Lent. Lent is the forty day period preceding Easter (not counting Sundays). The word, Lent, comes from an old English word, lencten, which means spring. It is also from the Germanic root for long, to lengthen, because in spring the days are getting longer.

Forty is a special number in the Bible, often meant to signify very long time. During the flood it rained for forty days and forty nights, and then God sent a rainbow to symbolize his promise, his covenant, to never destroy the earth again because of our sinfulness. Our Epistle reading in 1st Peter said that the flood was a foreshadowing of our baptisms.

Moses spent forty days encountering God on Mt. Sinai. Elijah walked for forty days and nights on his way to Mt. Horeb. The Hebrew People spent forty years in the wilderness before they entered the Promised Land. And Jesus was driven by the Spirit into the wilderness, the desert, where he spent forty days. There he was tempted by Satan and he was with the wild beasts. And then, some traditions say that Jesus spent 40 hours in the tomb. Another “40.”

Forty days. Forty days to examine our selves and our lives in order to prepare for Easter. Forty days of self examination. Forty days of repentance. Forty days of penitence. Forty days of penance. Forty days of prayer. Forty days of fasting. Forty days of self-denial. Forty days of abstinence. Forty days of reading and meditating on God’s word. Forty days of study. Forty days.

Have all of you come up with a Lenten discipline? Is there something you are giving up for Lent, like candy or alcohol or caffeine or video games? Are there things that you are adding on, like prayer or study? Why do we do this? Is it so that we can feel good about ourselves, our self-denial? Or Is it a time to diet so we can look good at Easter? Do we do this . . . just because it’s what we are supposed to do, to give something up for Lent?

We need to examine our motives and pick things that truly challenge our hearts, things that point us to God, creating space for his presence in our lives.

So why do we do give up things for Lent?

I believe it’s because we are addicted people. Jean Calvin said our hearts are idol factories. We give meaningless things too much importance in our lives, making them idols, and they become addictions. We are addicted to our morning coffee. We are addicted to our daily routines. We are addicted to television. We are addicted to relationships. We are addicted to sugar, to alcohol, to our fears, to our desires. All these things at one time or another usurp the place of God in our lives. They get in the way. They growl and bark like wild beasts, clamoring for our attention. They interfere with our ability to listen to God, to hear him in our lives.

The idea of giving something up is to clear out the noise of our desires, and in that empty space open ourselves up to God’s presence. When our routines our interrupted, when we find ourselves yearning for whatever it is that we have given up, we can find God in that space. If we have chosen wisely, if it doesn’t come too easily, we can find God in that wanting, in that yearning, in that desire. .

Lent is also about personal reflection and self-examination, taking stock of our lives. Where are we in our relationships with God and with each other? How are we doing? What could we do better? How can we improve our relationships with God and with each other? How can we make more space in our lives for those things that are truly important?

Lent can truly be a time of growth and meaning if we have chosen our disciplines well. So if you haven’t chosen something, or even several things, make a point of choosing wisely. If you usually watch the nightly news before bed, try shutting off the television and spending that time in quiet mediation. Change something. Create an emptiness. Challenge yourself to find space and time for growth and for God.

When we give up things that we perhaps love a little too much, we can find God in that emptiness. We can find God when we open ourselves up to hear him, through study of his word, through reading the psalms, through silent meditation. And as we journey through Lent we can pray today’s psalm with all our hearts:

Show me your ways, O Lord, and teach me your paths.

Lead my in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; in you have I trusted all the day long.

Remember, O Lord, your compassion and love, for they are from everlasting.

Remember not the sins of my youth and my transgressions; remember me according to your love and for the sake of your goodness, O Lord.

Gracious and upright is the Lord; therefore he teaches sinners in his way.

He guides the humble in doing right and teaches his way to the lowly. All the paths of the Lord are love and faithfulness to those who keep his covenant and his testimonies.

Amen.

Last Epiphany (B)

2009-03-04T08:16:00.000-08:00

(St. Mark's and St. James')

The man whispered, “God, speak to me.”And a meadowlark sang. But the man did not hear.
So the man yelled, “God, speak to me!”Thunder rolled across the sky. But the man did not listen.
The man looked around and said, “God, let me see you.”A star shone brightly. But he noticed it not.
And the man shouted, “God, show me a miracle.”And a life was born. But the man was unaware.
So, the man cried out in despair, “Touch me, God, and let me know that you are here!”
Whereupon God reached down and touched the man.But the man brushed the butterfly away and walked on.

I don’t know about you, but there have been times in my life that I’ve felt just like that. I wanted God to make himself real to me. I wanted to see him. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to FEEL his presence in my life. I wanted to know that he was real. That poem really spoke to me, though, and I realized that I was trying to determine how God revealed himself—I wanted things to be neat and tidy and plain. And God doesn’t work that way very often. Well, almost never. And I’ve come to perceive God in my life, by the transformation of my life and the lives of those around me. I find him by listening to him, by reading the scriptures, and by being open to his revealing himself in whatever manner he chooses.

I think Elijah had the same kind of experience, wanting God to reveal himself in some tangible way. He was fleeing for his life, hiding in a cave, and God came to him on the mountain. God told him to go out of the cave and stand on the side of the mountain, and the Lord would pass by. First of all, there was a great and mighty wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces. Now that’s some kind of wind, more of a hurricane, and then some!! That’s the kind of wind that would express God!! At the beginning of the creation story, a wind from God swept over the waters (Gen 1:2). And after the flood, God made a wind blow over the earth and the waters subsided (Gen. 8:1). During the plagues in Egypt which preceded the Exodus, God’s wind brought the Locusts, and then later drove them away (Ex 10). And it was wind sent by God that made the Red Sea part, so the Israelites could pass over on dry land. God creates wind, but he is not in the wind, even one powerful enough to split mountains and break rocks.

Then there was an earthquake and a fire. When God called Moses he spoke out of the flames of a burning bush. When Moses brought the people to God on Mt. Sinai, the Mountain was wrapped in smoke, because the LORD had descended upon it in fire; the smoke went up like the smoke of a kiln, while the whole mountain shook violently. (Ex. 19:18). Later, the presence of the Glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain (Ex 24:17). God appeared in the fire of his own glory, and he spoke out of the fire, but he was not the fire. He was not the earthquake. For Elijah, the Lord was not in the fire, not in the earthquake, but in a still, small voice, a low whisper. Not at all what Elijah expected, probably not even what he wanted. After all, God had made himself known the Israelites and to Moses in fire and earthquake. But God revealed himself to Elijah in quiet and stillness. And then Elijah knew that he was in God’s presence in the silence, and he covered his face.

Likewise for us. God is rarely found today in great and mighty manifestations. We don’t expect to find him in mighty wind, or in fire, or in earthquakes. We find him in the stillness of our hearts. We find him in worship. We find him revealed in people around us. And we find him in Jesus.

I would think that when Peter and James and John saw Jesus transfigured before them, with clothing glowing whiter than white and a great and mighty voice saying, “This is my son, my beloved,” they would have been convinced. God’s voice out of the cloud of glory probably would have been enough to convince me!! But they were afraid, they didn’t understand. And they were told to keep this whole experience a secret.

So why were they witnesses of this great event?

In our Journey through Epiphany we’ve just made it through the first chapter of the Gospel according to St. Mark, and now we jump way ahead to chapter 9. In chapter 8, Jesus asked the disciples who they thought he was, and Peter rightly answered that he was the Messiah. But when Jesus began to explain to them that he would have to suffer and be killed, and then rise again, Peter rebuked him, and the others I’m sure felt the same way. This isn’t how the program should go for the Messiah, the promised one. Jesus continued with some teaching: if any would come after me, let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me. Familiar words to us, right? And 6 days later he took Peter and James and John, his inner circle, his closest companions, up on the mountain with him. For these 3 disciples, this must have been powerful affirmation that Jesus was truly the messiah, though they still were greatly troubled that he would have to suffer and die. Their recollection of this experience would have meaning only in light of the whole of Christ’s life, death and resurrection.

Because it is only through the life, suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus that we can comprehend that he is the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God. Without his death and resurrection he is just a rabbi. But by his death he overcame death, and by his resurrection he gave us new life, and the true hope of eternal life to come.

When God spoke out of the cloud, he said, “this is my Son, the beloved. Listen to him!!” And that is how we find God. We listen to his Son. We listen to the words of the Scriptures. We listen to the stillness in our hearts when we are in prayer. And in those days, to listen, to hear also implied obedience. We find God when we listen to him and when we act accordingly.

This is my Beloved Son; Listen to him.—Take these words into your imagination. Let them run freely over time and space. Consider how many occasions there are when the words “This is my beloved Son; listen to him” have been and are the supreme wisdom. When a life looks out on the world in the early years, when it is choosing its goals and its way, its ambitions and aspirations, then listen to him who rejected the proffered kingdoms of this world for the larger kingdom of God. When life goes into eclipse, when darkness covers the face of the sun, in sorrow and failure and despair, then listen to him who was a man of sorrows, and whose revelation of God brings the sustaining word of comfort and the enabling word of hope. When life waxes in might and gathers power or riches, when the siren voices of self-indulgence are sounding, then listen to him who can save life from going to pieces. So, too, at every turning point of human history, as the nations stand choosing between life and death. This is my beloved Son; listen to him, whose way . . . is the only way of survival.[1]

This is my beloved Son, listen to him! Listen to Him. Listen to the Silence, to the Morning Star rising in your heart. Listen and Know that He is God. Amen.

[1] The Interpreter’s Bible, Volume VII. New York: Abingdon Press, 1951, pg 777ff.

6 Epiphany (B)

2009-03-04T08:13:00.000-08:00

(St. James' McLeansboro)

There are two ways to die in the desert: by thirst and by drowning. The psalmist is
well aware of both extremes: a parched desert and a flash flood. Throughout these two psalms, Psalm 42 and 43, flood and draught serve as metaphors for fulfillment and yearning, joy and despair -- in God . It is a pilgrimage full of painful wrenchings and surprising gifts, of desiccation and delight. To put it bluntly, these psalms acknowledges the paradox about the life of faith. Water is life and water is death. And death is life, life is death. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”

In the first half of Psalm 42, the psalmist thirsts for God, longing for his presence. He knows that only God can quench his thirst; and “he understands that the dissatisfaction of life is the thirst for God” (Mays 173). His food is his tears; he feels forgotten and cast off, and taunted by “those” who ask him where his God is. “The taunt and the social conduct that it represents are ‘the oppression of the enemy’ (42:9, 43:2), the cause of the lament (42:3,9; 43:2);” (Mays 175). He remembers the experience of worship with both despair and with longing. And we can relate to those feelings. We feel abandoned by God for any number of reasons. Sometimes we are the ones who have left, but yearn for his presence. Other times we are challenged by difficulties, and finally there are just dry seasons in our relationship with God. Even as Christians, we feel a longing for God’s presence in our lives, especially living as we do “in a world that constantly raises the question, ‘where is your God?’”(Mays 176). We feel abandoned by God. We wonder why we don’t perceive his presence in our lives, or in the world. And we suffer because of the taunts of society and the challenges to our faith.

The Second half of Psalm 42 speaks of a downcast soul, still thinking of God, but now he is overwhelmed by torrents of roaring water. IT seems that the psalmist is near defeat, on his knees, drowning, dying and broken. And then . . then he remembers. He remembers the covenant love of Yahweh and surrenders. The tide turns. There is still despair, but something has changed. There’s a glimmer of hope. Likewise for us, it is when we are broken, when we are overwhelmed, when we are dying inside, we become willing to surrender to the Lordship of God. While our circumstances may not change, we come to trust in the Lord’s ability to manage our lives. There is light and there is hope.

In Psalm 43 the lament continues, with a petition for God to take up the Psalmist’s cause, and rescue him. After surrendering he has the confidence to ask for rescue, and turn to God who is his shelter. He is still oppressed, but he prays for light and truth to guide him to God, where he can once again join in worship and praise. After we surrender our lives to the Lord, the clouds of despair part, and we can begin to see more clearly. We have the confidence to ask for light and for truth and for guidance, and we are brought to a desire for praise and worship.

In the same way that the Psalmist suffer, and we suffer, Jesus also suffered during his incarnation, and “echoed the language of these psalms in speaking of his own downcast, disquieted soul.” (Mays 176). Jesus understands our suffering. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught us that if we yearn for him we will be blessed: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied” (Matthew 5:6). Finally, Jesus “reveals himself as the source of the water that satisfies the thirst of the soul (John 4:14; 6:35);” (Mays 176). He gives living water, water that is gushing up into eternal life.

It is not without significance that in nearly the center of this 16 verse lament, the name THE LORD stands out in striking contrast to the twenty or more times God is named, depending on the translation. God is Elohim, or El, the sovereign creator. THE LORD is Yahweh, the God of covenant, of faithfulness, of loving-kindness. THE LORD initiated the old covenants with Abraham, and with Israel through Moses, and with David and his line. Covenant is a special relationship as the Lord’s chosen people, but it “involved more than privilege; it also entailed responsibility. . . .For Yahweh to be their God, Israel had to be like him.” (Alexander, 424). This relationship was conditional. They were to obey his commands. Their behavior was to be without reproach. And, as we know, none were able to do this.

But Jesus as the seed of Abraham, and the offspring of David, did meet God’s requirements. His sacrificial death and the shedding of his blood ratified a new covenant. A new testament. And the Good News is that Jesus is Lord. When we surrender to Jesus as Lord, we are by his blood brought into a relationship with God. Because of Christ we are able to be the New Israel. We are able to be like him, following in his footsteps, imitating him (1 Peter 2:21). Jesus is our light (John 1) and our truth (John 14:6). He is our guide, leading us to the Father in worship.

St. Augustine is remembered as saying, “Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee, O God.” That, too, is the thirst the psalmist felt, the desire of the mystics, and our truest longing. One of our problems today is that we don’t recognize that thirst for what it is, but we try to fill the void through alcohol, sex, drugs, food, television, anything to numb the pain of this horrific thirst. But nothing will satisfy this gaping hole in our souls except its source. When we are able to admit our deficiencies and surrender them to God, surrendering our entire lives to the Lordship of Christ, life begins to get better. It is more fulfilling. The emptiness is filled by God and our desire to please him. As we pray and yield all aspects of our lives to the Lordship of Jesus, we find we are filled. In his exchange with the Samaritan woman in John 4, Jesus recognizes that her problem is dissatisfaction, and he offers water that satisfies. That same living water is available to us when we surrender and offer him our lives. As we offer more of our self and our gaping need to God, more of the emptiness is filled.

Yes, it is normal for us as Christians to suffer and to feel far from God. But in remembering what he has done for us, and his love for us, we can get re-oriented to look to God as our hope and our help and our salvation. The psalmist remembers and anticipates temple worship and prays for light and faithfulness to guide his path to the temple and to God. In corporate worship we gather together to remember his love, and set our focus on God instead of our problems. In remembering his experiences of worship, the Psalmist is able to move from despair to hope. In worship, “in and through the holy space filled with the faithful and their liturgies, the soul ‘sees the face of God.’ That encounter is the answer to the question set by the society and the solution to the troubles that challenge faith” (Mays 175). Where is your God? He is here, now, present in our worship. He is present in the Eucharist. He is here.

Works Cited
Alexander, T. Desmond, et al., eds. New Dictionary of Biblical Theology. Downers Grove,
IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000.
Mays, James L. Interpretation, a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching: Psalms.
Louisville: John Knox Press, 1994.

5 Epiphany (B)

2009-03-04T08:07:00.000-08:00

I imagine that most of you have heard the phrase “The Tyranny of the Urgent.” The idea is that we spend too much of our time on those things that are urgent, the things that clamor for our attention, and often neglect the truly important things. At work it may feel like you are always putting out fires, taking care of the things that make the most noise, and you neglect some of the more important issues or projects. And at home it’s just as bad. We spend our time taking care of business, doing things, and neglecting our relationships with people. What is needed is to balance the truly important with the merely urgent. If I remember right, there was a tool whereby you analyzed your tasks and gave them various priorities depending on where they fell on the scales of important and urgent. Lowest priority would be those things that are unimportant and not urgent. Next up the scale would be those things that are urgent, but not important. After that would be the things that are important, but not urgent. If you spent most of your time on the things that are important but not urgent, it will pay dividends with fewer things becoming truly urgent. And finally of course, the highest priority is automatically given to those things which are both important and urgent.

For Mark the evangelist, the author of our gospel, pretty much everything Jesus did seems to be both important and urgent. Mark’s writing almost leaves us out of breath, it goes at such a fast pace. And everything happens “immediately” or “at once.” These words appear 7 times in the first chapter alone. It’s all about action, more activity and less words. More action than teaching. Mark’s is also the shortest gospel, it can easily be read about an hour, and in fact at seminary I saw 3 people do a play-presentation on the whole gospel of Mark—in an hour.

While we get a strong sense of urgency in Mark’s writing, Jesus doesn’t neglect the important but not urgent things—as we will see.

Mark begins his gospel with a sentence proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and moves on to John the Baptist, and Jesus’ own baptism, his temptation in the wilderness, the calling of the first 4 disciples, all in the first chapter. And we are still in the first chapter. It is a Sabbath day in Capernaum. Earlier, as we heard last week, Jesus had been teaching in the synagogue, speaking with astonishing authority. He was interrupted by a man with an evil spirit, the spirit who called out “I know who you are. You are the Holy One of God.” And Jesus rebuked the spirit, and it came out of the man, and the people were amazed at this!! First he taught with authority, and then he demonstrated authority over evil spirits. While the reader knows that this is Jesus Christ, Jesus Messiah, the Son of God, those around him get that knowledge more gradually, in bits and pieces. But his fame spread rapidly, as gossip normally does. It is one of the few loads that can be carried on the Sabbath.

As soon as they left the synagogue (there Mark did it again), they entered the house of Simon and Andrew. It’s even possible that this house was adjacent to the synagogue. It as probably a larger house for the extended family—Simon and Andrew both apparently lived there, and also there was Simon’s mother-in-law—evidence that Simon was married. But this unnamed mother in law was ill with a fever. And they told Jesus about it “at once.” Now in those days they thought fever was an illness itself, not a symptom. It was perhaps even a heavenly fire sent by God. And the Son of God was able to quench the fire. By his touch the fever left her—and immediately, suddenly she was well. I don’t know about you, but when I’ve had a fever I don’t usually jump out of bed and begin cleaning house and cooking dinner. When we have fevers we are weakened. It usually takes time to recover. But not this woman. The fever left her and she was restored to health—instantly. And she began to serve them—the first deacon!!

For the Jews, the Sabbath began at sundown, and so it ends at sundown. And that evening, at sundown, the people were released from Sabbath restrictions. People could carry things again, work again, travel again, and they brought people who were sick or possessed with demons to Jesus. Again, good news travels fast, doesn’t it!! Mark says that the whole city was at the door, and Jesus healed very many people, and he cast out demons, again telling them not to speak—because they knew who he was. Like the demon last week. Jesus silenced the demons, but not those who needed his help. Not the sick or even the demoniacs. The demons knew he was the Messiah, the Holy One of God, but Jesus wanted to let the people discover it for themselves—after all he wasn’t exactly the type of Messiah they were hoping for. He wasn’t what they expected. And in truth, it’s impossible to begin to comprehend that this man, this Jesus, was the Messiah, the Son of God, until we know not only his life, but his death, resurrection and ascension.

The next day, in the very early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus went out to a solitary place to pray. He did not neglect the important for the urgent—I told you we’d get back to that. It was of the utmost importance, in fact, for Jesus to connect with his Father, to have time apart with Him. This is they key to his life and his power and his authority—an intimate connection with God. Jesus made time for this communion.

But Simon and the others hunted him down—and told him that “everyone” was searching for him. Everyone wanted a piece of Jesus—they wanted his words, his healing, his restoration. We might imagine that the disciples wanted to set up this miracle worker. They might even organize a healing crusade, with all the best gospel bands, and a theme park. Right there in Capernaum. What fame, what power!!

But Jesus wouldn’t be confined to just Capernaum. He came to preach the gospel not just to Capernaum, but to the neighboring towns and villages, and he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message—the good news—in their synagogues, healing and casting out demons. Jesus is on the road. No longer are just rumors going around about Jesus, but Jesus himself is going around. Because that is why he came. That is what he set out to do. To bring the good news of the kingdom of God in word and in deed.

That was the main thing, the important and urgent thing. But the most important thing for Jesus was to spend time with his Father. To find a quiet place and pray. To connect with God. Because Jesus was fully human, his connection with the Father wasn’t automatic. He had to make time, take time.

In the fictional book, The Shack, Mack asked God about Jesus, about his humanity and divinity, and how they interacted. God told him that while Jesus too is fully God, he didn’t draw on his nature as God to do anything. He lived through his relationship with the Father—perfectly. Even when he healed, “he did so as a dependent, limited human being, trusting in [God’s] life and power to be at work within him and through him. Jesus as a human being had no power within himself to heal anyone. . . .That’s how he lives and acts as a true human, how every human is designed to live—out of [our life with God].”[1]

We were created to have intimate communion with God, and we can. We too need to take time away from all the urgent and unimportant things in our lives and spend time with God in prayer—the most important thing. That’s part of being a disciple. So why don’t we do it better? Why don’t we do it more? Why is it such a struggle to make time and take time to pray? Why is it so hard to get up an hour—or a half hour—earlier and spend time with God? In an article titled “How to be a Disciple,” Dallas Willard said the problem is we don’t have the intention to please God.

He wrote, “It was this general intention that made the primitive Christians such eminent instances of piety, that made the goodly fellowship of the Saints and all the glorious army of martyrs and confessors. And if you will here stop and ask yourself why you are not as pious as the primitive Christians were, your own heart will tell you that it is neither through ignorance nor inability, but purely because you never thoroughly intended it.”[2]

When we fail to plan, we plan to fail.

So we are called to make decisions. Do we want to be good disciples? Do we intend to be lifelong students of Jesus? Do we intend to do all the things we know we should do? Think about it. Make a decision and intentionally give the most important thing the highest priority. Amen.

[1] William P. Young, The Shack, p. 99-100.
[2] Willard, Dallas. “How to Be a Disciple.” http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=336.

4 Epiphany (B)

2009-03-04T08:03:00.000-08:00

Bob Dylan, the poet, songwriter, activist and occasional theologian once famously said that “Jesus tapped me on the shoulder and said, Bob, why are you resisting me? I said “I’m not resisting you! He said, You gonna follow me? I said, I’ve never thought about that before! He said, When you’re not following me, you’re resisting me.”

Are you following or resisting? God’s call on us happens in a variety of ways, doesn’t it?

In the gospel of Mark, everything happens very quickly, and his favorite word is immediately. We are only on verse 14 of the first chapter and John the Baptist has already appeared, preaching, baptizing, wearing clothing of camel’s hair. He was the voice in the wilderness, preparing the way. And Jesus appeared, and was baptized by John, and the Spirit descended upon him and a voice from heaven said that Jesus was the Beloved of God. And immediately he was driven into the desert where he was tempted for 40 days.

And now, after John has been arrested by Herod, Jesus appears in Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. What is this good new, this gospel? The Good News is that God is breaking into the world. The Good News is announcing an event: In the fullness of time, when the time was right, all that God had promised comes to pass. In the person of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the kingdom of God has come into the world. God with us, God steps into human history, and the world would never again be the same. Eternity intersects with time as we know it. Or perhaps eternity collides with time. And Jesus proclaims the kingdom of God. God’s rule and authority are about to be unfurled. The reign of God is a powerful and dynamic event, where God himself intervenes in human affairs to achieve his purposes.

The time has come, the kingdom of God is at hand. It is embodied in Jesus, near enough to touch. The future was now. God is king, his rule has come, and things will be put to right, evil will be vanquished, the kingdom will be established. The announcement by Jesus requires decision and commitment: repentance, submission to the kingship of God and his Son, and belief that the impossible, the incredible, has come to pass. Repent and believe! The message is urgent, the time is now, the time is fulfilled. The planets are all in line, heaven and earth have converged, and the moment has come—the time of which the prophets spoke and sang, the time for which people hoped and longed, has come.

And Jesus begins to call people into his kingdom. Without fanfare, without warning, Jesus appears by the Sea of Galilee, calling fishermen, creating a community of followers. The kingdom is about community. Peter and Andrew are casting nets from the shore, suggesting that they are too poor to own a boat. And Jesus says, follow me and I will make you fish for people.

And immediately they left their nets and followed him.

A little further on, Jesus saw James and John, the Sons of Zebedee, on their boat mending their nets. And immediately, Jesus called them, saying follow me. And they dropped everything, walking away from their father and hired men and their boat, suggesting perhaps a more prosperous fishing business, and they followed him.

When you are fishing, and hook a fish, it has consequences for that fish, doesn’t it. Life is not as it was. God’s transforming power is part of his rule, part of his kingdom. Lives are changed beyond recognition. The disciples will be agents of a message of transformation, just as they themselves are transformed by Jesus’ call.

Jesus said, “Follow me!” Who is this man, who calls people to follow him? Prophets called people to follow God. Teachers and rabbis invited people to learn from them, but not to follow them. With what authority does Jesus call people?

When we hear about Jesus calling his disciples, we wonder at the men who dropped everything they were doing and followed him. How could they do such a thing? What did they know, what did they see that we don’t know, that we don’t see. And what would we do? What will we do? When the reign of God breaks into our lives, how do we respond? What are we willing to risk?

But the call of God on our lives is God’s doing, not our own. God calls and gathers a community of believers, centered in Emmanuel, in Jesus, God with us. It’s all about God, the power of God. Barbara Brown Taylor said that this miracle story is about “the power of God—to walk right up to a quartet of fishermen and work a miracle, creating faith where their was no faith, creating disciples where there were none just a moment before.”[1]God breaks in, and things are not the same. God invades our lives, sometimes, when we are looking the other way, minding our own business.

But we still have the freedom to respond, to drop our nets, to leave our boats and follow. The freedom to weigh the cost, to decide to follow. And yet, for some of us, we know that we are pursued by the hound of heaven, and we have no rest until we allow ourselves to be found, to be captured. In the Forward of the Shack, Willie talks about that place inside yourself “where there is just you alone—and maybe God, if you believe in him. Of course, God might be there even if you don’t believe in him. That would be just like him. He hasn’t been called the Grand Interferer for nothing.”[2]

Although we probably consider ourselves the most unlikely candidates, the Call to follow Jesus still comes, through God’s doing and not our own. We are called to a new way of living, transformed by the power of God. As followers of Jesus, we are to be messengers of transformation, and we are to embody the kingdom. Our lives must look different. We are a little bit better, a little bit holier, a little bit removed from the world. We are called a higher standard. In our work, our vocation, we are called to do our very best, as though we were doing it for God and not for men. In all that we do, we are to honor God. As Jesus is God with us, even so we are with him and in him. Our lives are centered in him. In the middle of our ordinary lives, we are exactly the person God calls, the person God wants. God wants us to give him our lives, and to conduct our affairs according to His teachings. We are disciples, apprentices to Jesus, serving, loving, seeking justice and mercy.

Brother Lawrence was a 17th century Carmelite monk, a layman who dedicated his life to God. He worked most of his life in the kitchen, but his wisdom is remembered to this day. He believed that the common business of life was a medium for God’s love, and that the key to working and living is our motivation. He said, “"Nor is it needful that we should have great things to do. . . We can do little things for God; I turn the cake that is frying on the pan for love of him, and that done, if there is nothing else to call me, I prostrate myself in worship before him, who has given me grace to work; afterwards I rise happier than a king. It is enough for me to pick up but a straw from the ground for the love of God."

The love of God is our motivation as disciples. God who first loved us. God who loved us when we were still sinners. Nothing in the world is more valuable than that, nothing is more valuable than living in the Kingdom. Unless we comprehend that living for God is superior to everything else, everything that we value, we cannot be successful disciples. When we are caught by the hound of heaven, confronted by the Grand Interferer, we still have a choice. God initiates, and we respond. Do we resist him, or do we follow him?
[1] http://i.ucc.org/StretchYourMind/OpeningtheBible/WeeklySeeds/tabid/81/articleType/ArticleView/articleId/154/Follow-Me-Jan-1925.aspx
[2] Young, William P. The Shack, Windblown Media, 2007, p. 12.

3 Epiphany (B)

2009-03-04T08:02:00.000-08:00

1 Epiphany (B)

2009-02-20T12:38:00.000-08:00

In the writings of the prophet Isaiah, there are four units known as “Servant Songs” which include elements of “the Suffering Servant.” In our OT reading today, we find the very first of the Servant Songs, where God is introducing his Servant. This Servant is unnamed: those who first heard Isaiah probably would have assumed that the servant is the Nation, Israel. These writings are basically poems describing this chosen servant. This servant of the Lord is chosen to do the work of the Lord, but he ends up being horribly abused. Ultimately, he ends up sacrificing himself, but good ultimately triumphs through tragedy.

In our Old Testament reading, God introduces his servant and describes his work in vs. 1-4, and in the following verses God seems to speak to his Servant, commissioning his work. And the main idea of this Servant Song is Justice. This is to be the aim and work of the Servant, to bring judgment to the world, proclaiming the sovereignty of God, to bring to truth of God to the world, and to establish a just order, to right the wrongs so very evident in the world. God is big on justice and the word justice appears 3 times in the first few verses.

Our text begins with God saying, “Behold my servant.” Here he is, the one that I uphold, the one who is kept for myself, the one in whom my soul delights. This servant is God’s servant. He’s God’s man for the job, and God’s own man. “I have put my Spirit, my presence on him, and he will bring Justice to the nations.” Justice here is God’s truth and the truth about God which will be revealed, brought forth, by this servant.

And the ultimate Servant will do ultimate service, serving the Lord through quiet strength, not aggressive, not threatening, but gentle and compassionate. He will not break a bruised reed, nor quench a dimly burning wick. One would think that a bruised reed is useless, and a smoldering wick is nearly extinct, but not in the eyes of God, not in the hands of the Servant. The servant won’t crush those who are weak, nor snuff out the vulnerable. He understands human weakens and vulnerability, and like a gentle physician seeks to heal our wounds. He will bring justice, making things right.

And he himself will not falter or be discouraged. Though others are weak and vulnerable, the Servant is not. Others falter and are discouraged, and the Servant is not. Others may be dimly burning wicks, but not the Servant. Others may be bruised, but he does not bruise. What might immobilize others won’t discourage this servant. He has the resources not to falter, and resilience against outward foes. He will be strong until justice is established over all the earth, and even the most remote places are waiting for his law, placing their hope in his teaching.

In this next section, God is confirming the task of his servant, and promises results. The emphasis of the Creator God is meant to comfort his people. God who created all things, who maintains the universe, won’t forget his people or his promise. God who created, stretched, spread, and gives is an active God, and his creation is dependent upon him. He gives breath and life to humankind, and holds the universe in place. All things owe their very being to Him; even the soil has no life except what he provides. Life itself is God’s gift.

And this Creator, the Lord God, cares and provides for the life he gives, and one of the ways he does this is by calling forth his Servant. The Servant is called in righteousness. And with this call comes God’s very presence, he accompanies the Servant, holding his hand, and he will keep him safe. The Servant will be a covenant to the people, reflecting God’s promises. The Servant will be the means by which people come into a covenant relationship with God. While the covenant was first with Noah and Abraham and then Israel, God’s intention is for all the world to be his covenant people, people of the promise, and the Servant will bring the world and its people to God. This Servant will be a light to the nations, the light of truth, the healing of blind eyes, the release from captivity, the transformation from darkness to light, creating a perfect people in a perfect world.

And God promises to bring this about because of his Name, his reputation. He alone is God, he alone possesses his Glory, he alone is worthy of praise. According to his promise, the former things have come to pass, and behold, God is doing a new thing. God declares that he is going to do something new through the ministry of the Servant.

Who is this Servant? Clearly he is a messianic figure, and of course we recognize him to be Jesus, the ultimate obedient servant of God. He is the one to bring Justice, to restore right order on the earth, and God’s spirit is on him as we heard in our Gospel. His accomplishments are not through dominance or oppression. And His coming is not just for the nation of Israel, but for the world. This Servant gives both sight and freedom and His ministry reveals the glory of God.

Again, the ministry of the Servant is above all to restore God’s right order in the world, bringing justice to the world. The cross of Christ is about much more than forgiveness of sins. “It is about dealing with the effects of sin in the world and about restoring God’s work in all levels of society.”[1] And of course the church as the body of Christ, the ministry of Christ in the world, has done that. Over the ages the church and its people have been responsible for establishing hospitals and schools throughout the world as part of restoring God’s order in the world. The church hasn’t been perfect, but it has done much good throughout the ages.

My question to you is what are you doing to bring justice to the world, to restore God’s order? What is St. Mark’s Episcopal Church doing to bring justice to the world? What is the purpose of the church? Is it to evangelize, to bring in new members? Or Is it all about love and fellowship? Sure, those are part of it, but I think the real purpose of the church is to be a servant of our community, to minister to those in need, and to bring justice to the ends of the earth, starting right here in West Frankfort. It’s been said that the church is the only organization that exists solely for the benefit of non-members.

In the Bible, and in our community, justice is about the widows, the fatherless, and the orphans. It’s about the poor, the hungry, and the needy. It’s about the stranger, the weak, and the oppressed. For some of us it may involve political activism, working to structure the laws of our society so that widows and orphans and fatherless and poor and needy and hungry and strangers and the weak and the oppressed are protected.

It’s about making sure that the handicapped are protected. It’s about changing the laws whereby a woman with children loses her welfare benefits if she works at McDonalds, after she’s been laid off from a good job and now she can’t make ends meet, let alone get ahead.

It’s about hungry children. I talked to a woman, a case worker the other day, and she told me about visiting a family who was really struggling. This family had received a food basket earlier in the day, but the case worker was there when the kids came home from school. And she told me how the youngest boy’s eyes lit up to discover a can of chicken noodle soup, how he was so excited, jumping up and down, exclaiming “That’s my favorite!” A can of chicken noodle soup—imagine that!

So what are you doing to bring justice to the world? What is St. Mark’s Episcopal Church doing to bring justice to the world? Amen.

[1] Oswalt, John N., The NIV Application Commentary: Isaiah. Zondervan, p. 474.

2 Christmas (B)

2009-02-20T12:37:00.000-08:00

How is your prayer life? Do you pray regularly and systematically? Do you have a plan for prayer? Do you keep a prayer list? Do you pray daily? Before meals? Do you pray as often or as well as you would like to? I know I struggle from time to time. There is a great need for effective prayer, and this morning we’ll look at Paul’s example from our epistle reading.

First, some statistics:

In a 2005 survey of over 1300 Christian evangelical leaders, the number one issue facing churches today is the need for prayer, both individual and corporate.[1] And yet, a 2005 Barna survey of 614 senior pastors ranked prayer as the lowest priority for their church in the year ahead, from a dozen possibilities.[2] There’s kind of a schizophrenic relationship with prayer in today’s churches and especially among church leadership. Active ministries: doing evangelism and discipleship, doing anything, is easier than prayer. In this crisis of prayer, which may be one of the most pressing needs in the church today, we tend to read about prayer, and talk about prayer, and not do a lot of praying. I think we can learn about prayer by examining and imitating some of the prayers in the Bible.

The great contemporary evangelist and author Michael Green agrees that prayer is a challenge, but holds the apostle Paul up as an example. He wrote, “The trouble with activists is that they tend to do rather than to pray. I know that is shamefully true of me. But in the apostle Paul I find a man who is not only astonishingly active, serving his Lord all over the Mediterranean basin, but who is also a contemplative and a real model of intercessory prayer.”[3] I think that the priority given to prayer in our lives is an accurate gauge of our spiritual lives, and hence we too may learn from Paul’s model.

Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians is noted for its Trinitarian theology, its depth and its breadth. It also contains two majestic prayers--or prayer reports--of the apostle, and several other references to prayer. It would do well for us to emulate Paul’s examples and heed his instructions.

The first prayer in Ephesians is in the first chapter, and today’s epistle covers parts of this. In our reading, Paul starts by blessing God, God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. He blesses God—for blessing us with spiritual blessings. Do you hear a theme? He is blessing God for blessing us with spiritual blessings—blessings that will be mentioned in the next few verses. Blessed is God for choosing us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He chose you and me to be part of his family, to be in Christ, before the world began, and we are created to be holy and blameless before him. And because we are in Christ, God sees us as holy and blameless. By God’s grace, and by Christ’s sacrifice, God sees us as holy and blameless. Our lives are transformed and we are set apart to be his holy people. We are transformed, and become more and more like Christ, more and more holy, more and more blameless and less sinful. That alone is worth blessing God! But there’s more!

He destined us for adoption as his children, according to his good pleasure. He chose us to be his children, his sons and daughters, in Christ, because it is pleasurable for him. We are chosen and destined in and through Christ, as a result of God’s glorious grace, freely given. Amazing grace, not earned or deserved but freely given, we are God’s adopted children. Blessed be God!!

Our reading skips some verses, up to Paul’s prayer report. Paul writes that he has heard about the reader’s faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and their love for all the saints (1:15) and that he has continually given thanks for them and remembered them in his prayers (16). This brief and very general thanksgiving report suggests that “Paul may not have even known the recipients but he has heard of their faith and life. On that basis he has a rapport with them and intercedes for them.”[4] His prayer is addressed to the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory (17). God’s glory is both his presence and the revelation of the himself as the One who has made himself known in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. Paul’s designation for God is consistent with the substance of the prayer that follows.

Paul’s prayer is that this glorious revelatory God would give to the readers “a spirit [the Spirit—of truth, the mediator and teacher] of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened” (1:17). Wisdom comes from God alone, and has to do with his revelation, his purposes as revealed in Christ. While the readers may have knowledge of God’s saving purposes, they “needed to grasp its full significance, not the least of all their own place in it.”[5] In asking for them to have the eyes of their hearts enlightened, Paul is praying for illumination, for “spiritual insight so as to grasp the truth of God’s purposes.”[6]

The goal of this wisdom, revelation and enlightenment is a threefold knowledge. The first part is knowledge of the hope to which they have been called. “Paul prays they will know the significance of God’s choosing them. . . . The focus here is not on the fact of God’s choosing, but on the outcome, the consummation of God’s plan in eternity.”[7] The second prayer focus is that they may know “what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints” (1:18). They are God’s inheritance, those which are set apart for God’s possession and enjoyment, his pleasure. In essence, Paul is praying “that the readers might appreciate the wonder, the glory of what God has done in entering into possession of his people, the Church from Jews and Gentiles, and the immense privilege it is to be among these saints”[8] The third goal is knowledge of “what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe” (19) which is his marvelous life-giving and life-saving power. In the verse that immediately follows our epistle reading, Paul says that this is the same great power and might, “that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places” (v.20). Paul’s prayer is that the readers may know that this same power, the power which raised Christ from the dead, is available to them; that God’s power is active in their lives.

What can we learn about prayer from this example? First of all, we should not separate worship, thanksgiving and prayer: they belong together. Chapter 1 of Ephesians contains praise of God in vs. 3-14 as well as thanksgiving and prayer for his people in the rest of the chapter. And then, Paul uses such great words and images for God, that leads me to think that we need to expand how we address God; we need a bigger idea of God. In this case, Paul praised “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ who has blessed us!” And later he prayed, to “the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory.” How often to we pray simply to “God” or “the Lord” or “Father.” I think I usually use “Heavenly Father.” That’s certainly not very expansive or expressive. We need to expand our perception and vocabulary towards God, and we can imitate Paul in this!

Next, in our discussion we heard that Paul was attentive to reports of faith.

In the same way that we give thanks to God when we recognize his quiet and effective work in our lives, so also we thank God when we hear of his work in others. . . . We will be attentive to reports of the progress of the gospel . . . and immediately turn to the God whose grace has sovereignly intervened in their lives with such happy result and offer him praise and thanksgiving.[9]

We can join with the angels in celebration!

Subsequently, we can pray that those around us will increase in wisdom and learn to know God better. What better prayer is there? Praying scripture is always in order. Pray for our family and friends. Even more, pray for our enemies. God in Christ Jesus is sovereign, and he will answer prayer. We can pray for spiritual insights in order that we and our companions may truly comprehend God’s work in us and in the world. The same mighty power that God used in raising Jesus from the dead is available to us. In the same way that our idea of God is too small, so are our prayers. When we focus on his greatness and glory, it is great incentive to pray.
[1] Deaton, Todd. “Prayer: No. 1 Issue in Churches, Survey of Leaders Shows.” 7 March 2006. Www.BaptistCourier.Com. 12 February 2008. .
[2] “Church Priorities for 2005 Vary Considerably.” 14 February 2005. The Barna Update.. 12 February 2008. .
[3] Green, Michael & Elspeth Taylor. A Prayer Journey with the Apostle Paul: Sixty Devotions. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004) 7.
[4] Snodgrass, Klyne. The NIV Application Commentary: Ephesians. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996) 72.
[5] O’Brien, Peter. The Letter to the Ephesians. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999) 132.
[6] O’Brien, 133.
[7] Snodgrass, 74.
[8] Lincoln, Andrew. Word Biblical Commentary: Ephesians. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1990) 60.
[9] Carson, 171.

1st Sunday after Christmas

2009-02-04T08:45:00.000-08:00

Sermon given at St. Stephen's.

Today’s gospel reading, John 1:1-18, is often identified as the prologue of John’s gospel—it could also be described as John’s Christmas story. It’s a bit different than the Christmas story we are familiar with and that we heard last week. There is no manger, no angels, no shepherds. We don’t hear about Mary and Joseph or a baby. Instead we are looking behind, above, and beyond the manger scene. We move to eternity, to creation, to redemption, soaring above the angels and shepherds. John’s prologue is unique and awe-inspiring.

When we look at the four gospels side by side, it is clear that one of these things is not like the others!! Matthew, Mark and Luke all share a narrative style, more like a reporter’s eyewitness report. Many people love the brevity of these works, and especially the terseness of Mark. But at least as many people also are attracted to the majesty and depth of John. And the Gospel of John is my favorite, and of course I appreciate any opportunity to preach on it!!
It is impossible to adequately address this passage in a short sermon, so I will focus on just a few of the significant themes: The Word, who gives power to all who believe in him to become children of God, the Word made flesh, and the uniqueness of this Word.

The first three words are: “In the beginning”—the same words that open the book of Genesis. Genesis reads: In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. In today’s text we read, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.”

This Word, who was with God before creation, was the logos, the creative force of God. To speak of the Word in relation to the beginning of creation would make sense to both Jews and Greeks. In some schools of Greek thought, the universe is kosmos, an ordered place, and what lies behind the universe and orders it is reason or logos. . For the Jews, creation took place through God’s speech. In Gen 1:3, God said let there be light and there was light. God’s speech, his word, caused creation to come into being. And God’s speech, his Word, is Christ. All things came into being with him, and without him not one thing came into being. There were no exceptions; the existence of absolutely all things came by this Word.

In vs. 11-13 we read “11 He came to what was his own,1 and his own people did not accept him. 12 But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. Those who believe in his name have the power to become Children of God.” This power is something that we must exercise. But this power comes from God. Those who are receptive to the Son are offered the gift of becoming children of God themselves. Everything depends on our response to him. Then as children of God we begin to share his divine life. We reflect God’s character. Most importantly, believing is not just an intellectual assent to some ideas but a relationship of discipleship to Jesus in which we trust and obey his revelation and receive his ongoing presence through the Holy Spirit.

In the next verse comes the break with all non-Christian thought. The Word became flesh!! The Word, the agent of creation, has now become a creature! He who brought the universe into existence is now born within the universe as a human being. This idea is so familiar to us that we don’t get it. The Word became Flesh! God became Man. It is beyond our ability to comprehend. The Word became flesh! Philippians ch. 2 tells us that The Word, “Jesus Christ though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.” The Word who was with God and was God became human flesh, born as a baby, and dwelt among us! Imagine that!
In our world today, we hear many voices, many words. But when we hear that the Word became Flesh, we understand that God is intent on communicating about himself. The Word, is accessible. The Word lived in the world and was touched and heard by many. The Word became flesh tells us that Jesus was God himself, taking on the clothing of humanity. Something definitive, objective and absolute has happened in time and in history. It must be made clear that Jesus is not one savior among the world’s many saviors, nor is he one good man among many men. Jesus is God in flesh. The Nicene Creed tells us that Jesus and the Father share the same essence; and there was never a time when the Son did not exist.

God is the architect of creation and of history who delights in revealing himself. He enters our reality through word and miracle, showing his glory and power. Christ is God at work, disclosing himself to his creation. Christ is God reaching into the realm of men and women; he takes their form in order to give exhaustive and certain revelation of who he his. Jesus is God’s intervention in the world. He is greater than Moses and came before Abraham. His history goes back to the beginning of time and beyond.

Jesus makes God accessible. The last verse of today’s text says “8 No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son,1 who is close to the Father's heart,2 who has made him known.” In chapter 14:8, Jesus claims that “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.” If you want to know God, look at his Son. The son is the same as the Father, the same substance, the same nature. The incarnation has brought a new way to comprehend God. We can only know the Holy God of the Universe through Christ, God made flesh, born in humility in a filthy stable, walking in poverty, teaching the un-teachable, dying a horrible criminal’s death and then rising from the dead and again walking among his disciples. Through the approachable and knowable humanity of Jesus, the Word made flesh, we come to know God. And any attempt to know God that is not centered in Jesus is defective. No one has seen God, but now the one who was with the Father reveals the glory of God that he shared with him before the world began. Jesus is the only way to the Father. He is not one path among many, but the only true and real way by which we know God. In chapter 14 Jesus says "I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7 If you know me, you will know1 my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him." Jesus shows us the Father, and if we believe in his name we are given the power to become children of God—God’s very sons and daughters. In Romans, Paul says we have received the spirit of adoption that we may cry Abba, Father. God is our Daddy, and we are his children, his sons and daughters. What a great thing!!

In today’s world, there isn’t much that feels secure, and too often we feel rejected and alone. We feel uneasy and uncertain. And while we know that no human relationship can truly provide security, God can. In the midst of this troubled and troubling world, we are privileged to have the most secure relationship that there is—we are adopted into God’s very own family. Through faith in Christ, through believing in his name, we become his brothers and sisters, children of God, and co-heirs with Christ. We belong!! This is the ultimate family! Our adoption is for real and for sure and for always! We have the power and privileges as God’s children—what an amazing and wonderful thing! When we comprehend this truth, our hearts will overflow with joy.

The cosmic Christ, the Word who was in the beginning, has revealed to us the way to be with God our Father, our Abba, and this Daddy will never ever let us down, and we will be his beloved children forever and for always.

Christmas 2008

2009-02-04T08:42:00.001-08:00

One of the top grossing movies of the last two weeks is The Day the Earth Stood Still starring Keanu Reeves as a humanoid alien visiting earth. He claims to be a friend of the earth, but is he really friend or foe? Is mankind worth saving?

If you haven’t seen this movie, chances are you’ve seen or read something like it. What about the Star Wars franchise, or 2001 A Space Odyssey. How about the Men in Black movies, Independence Day, or the beloved ET. Or on television: The X-Files or 3rd Rock from the Sun TV series. I could go on and on; It’s rare that a year goes by without a science fiction movie coming out. And who hasn’t heard about Orson Wells’ radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds—it was so realistic that those who hadn’t heard the disclaimer believed they were really under attack by Martians!

Mankind has long been fascinated by the possibility of life beyond earth. Science fiction literature and films serve not only to entertain, but to address our questions, hopes and fears. . . [1]

The hopes and fears of all the years . . . are found in science fiction. Our hopes and fears are found in the stories we tell, in the books we read, in the movies we watch. And sometimes through stories of aliens and UFOs our hearts cry out.

In these types of stories there are two basic themes. The first is that the aliens are hostile, sophisticated, and set on destroying the earth through force and deception—and sometimes they find willing humans who commit treason in order to assist the evil aliens, hoping that they will be saved, that they will cut a deal with the invaders. Or sometimes humans are taken over—they’ve been taken over from the inside and are enemy agents. Did you see any of the Alien movies, where humans are cocoons for the development of horrible alien creatures? And in these most frightening movies there’s a hero, someone who has learned the truth of impending destruction, and the people won’t take them seriously.

Then there’s another theme, a more optimistic story. Aliens are still sophisticated and powerful beings, superior both morally and spiritually. They are masters of technology who have visited us before, to help us and to guide us, to intervene in human history—and they are back to reveal themselves and save us—from ourselves, whether it’s ecological disaster or global warfare and destruction. Sometimes these superior aliens will mate with humans to create a superior race, which will change the course of history and give us hope.

Perhaps these stories are so popular because they speak to our hearts. We know in our innermost hearts that there is a dark and sinister force in the world, one that we don’t understand and usually underestimate. When will we pay attention to the real evil in the world, the real damage being done? It’s not hard to believe that our world is threatened by forces beyond our control, whether global warming or global warfare, and the only answer is some kind of dramatic action. We know, too, that science, technology, and commerce will not solve our problems. We need help. Remember Princess Lea in Star Wars: “Help us, Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re our only hope.”

The hopeful story lends us to consider that there is a positive force in the universe, more powerful than human beings, a force for good, a force which can help and guide us, a force which can save us from destruction, save us from ourselves. We know we need new blood, new hearts, new lives. We need rescued on a moral and spiritual level—we need to be transformed and renewed and redeemed. If there is a benevolent force, a superior race, if this is true, then there is hope.

And so to a world that presents it’s hopes and fears in medium of alien invasion and alien salvation comes the good news of Jesus Christ.

Because of course, we were right. There is a sinister force at work in the world and in us, consuming us from the inside out, a force which must be recognized and named. And that is the role of the prophets.

And of course we were right. There is a benevolent and superior force guiding history, a force which wants to be known, to be revealed. This force wants to have intimate communion with the human race and bring forth a new race, with renewed and transformed powers, so that we can be saved. There is a force that says without a doubt, mankind is worth saving.

And so God, the benevolent and superior force at work in the world, God who is far bigger and better than the human race which threatens to destroy itself, chose to reveal himself. He took on the form and shape and even the limitations of a human. The king of the universe shed his powers and clothed himself with humanity. The one through him all things were made, made himself like us. While his conception was something akin to planting an alien and superior seed in a human mother, his birth was of the ordinary human kind, born in the far corners of the world, born in the most humble of places. And because he was an alien, because he was not completely of this world, he helped us by being born and living and dying like one of us. And because he was not entirely one of us, by his death, he conquered death and gave us life, gave us his life-giving Spirit. The Spirit of the one who is God from God, light from light, true God from true God, this Spirit touches and transforms our hearts, from the inside. We are joined with him, and a new race is formed, a new humanity, made new, re-created, from the inside out.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light;
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

We know, don’t we, that we need help, and that all the best of human science and technology aren’t getting it done. The threats are real enough, but what we need is a Savior—and unto us a child is born, a Savior, Christ the Lord. He will be named Jesus—Yeshua—which means God is salvation. We need salvation, and in the birth and life and death and resurrection and ascension of Jesus, we are saved. All we have to do is believe in him—to trust that He is who he says he is, and to surrender our lives to him who is able to do far more than we can ask or imagine.

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in a stable in Bethlehem. They are met in Jesus. And in our Christmas celebration of Holy Communion, we share in his life. He lives in us and we in him, and we are a new race with new hearts—beings who are transformed from the inside out, a now alien people who are fit to live forever with Him, for all eternity, above and beyond the stars.

Special acknowledgments to the Rev Dr. Leander Harding.

[1] http://www.allmovieportal.com/m/2008_The_Day_the_Earth_Stood_Still_about_the_movie.html

Year B, 4 Advent

2009-01-31T10:26:00.000-08:00

Sermon given at St. Stephen's, Harrisburg.

Good morning!! Well, here we are, the 4th week of Advent, the 4th week of year B in our cycle. Year B is supposed to focus on the book of Mark, but last week we read from John’s Gospel, and this week the Annunciation story from the Gospel according to St. Luke, and just to make sure we don’t miss any of the 4 gospels I’m also going to talk about a section of Matthew’s gospel. Got ‘em all covered!

But let’s start by looking at today’s gospel. This takes place of course in a town called Nazareth, in the region of Galilee. Now Galilee was not at all a respected region—in today’s politically incorrect language, we’d probably think it’s redneck country—hardly the place for one chosen—or sent—by God. But that’s how God works, isn’t it. Rarely in the ways we’d expect.

And an angel named Gabriel came from heaven and appeared to Mary, a young girl, probably about 12 or 13 years old. She was engaged to Joseph, having been pledged to him sometime within the last year—an engagement that was as binding as a wedding. The angel spoke to Mary, saying, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you!” I’m sure Mary was amazed and even frightened, first at the appearance of an angel of the Lord. They are not some kind of wimpy cherub-like beings with clouds and harps, but God’s army—strong warriors, impressive to behold. And she also had to be troubled at his words—What kind of greeting was that? What could it mean? And the Angel said, don’t be afraid Mary. You have found favor with God—she’s the object of God’s grace. He continued by telling her she would conceive in and bear a son, and she was to name him Jesus—Yeshua. This was not an uncommon name. And like most all Hebrew names it has a meaning. Yeshua means the Lord is Salvation.

The angel continues by telling of the greatness of this child, the son of Mary—he will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end. What an amazing announcement—all these referring to Old Testament promises and prophesies.

This promise involves the sonship promise of the Old Testament spoken about a son of David, that God would be his father (2 Sam. 7:6-16). As Son of the Most High, Jesus takes on a special relationship to God as the representative of the divine promise on earth. Once his kingdom is established, it will never end. The one who always was king will set up a kingdom where the presence of his authority and the benefits of salvation are distributed to those who ally themselves to him (Luke 1:67-79). This child will be both “Son of the Most High” and the “son of God.”[1]

And the gospels, the New Testament, explain what this means. But for now it’s important to understand that this Jesus will be a royal figure chosen by God. His human origins—the conception and birth of this child—are far from ordinary. His birth will be truly unique, born of a virgin, Mary understand what the angel is saying, but wonders how it can be that she will have a child when she has never been with a man. But with God all things are possible. God who created the universe, the sun and moon and stars, who created the earth, who separated light from darkness, and created Adam out of the dirt he had made, this same God will work his creative might by sending his Holy Spirit to Mary and she will conceive—so that the child will be holy, the Son of God.

And this is why Mary is highly favored, chosen by God’s grace to give birth to the Savior of the world—remember, Jesus, Yeshua, means God is salvation. Mary is chosen, not because of anything she has done, not because of her merit or worth, but simply because she is the vessel chosen by God for this amazing and gracious inbreaking of God. Emmanuel—God with us.

As a sign to mary that this will occur, the angel tells he that her elderly and childless cousin Elizabeth has conceived in her old age—and that she will bear a child too—again, because nothing is impossible with God.

Mary’s response is willing obedience and great character. “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

This can’t have been easy for her. “She is being asked to bear a child as a virgin without being married. In standing up for God and his power, she will probably become the object of much doubt and ridicule.”[2] Or worse—the penalty for adultery was at the very least to be disowned by her family and cast out of her village, and at most, death by stoning. But knowing she is God’s child Mary will allow God to work through her. While he may be placing her in difficult circumstances, Mary is assured that God will be with her every step of the way.

With her reputation and even her betrothal at stake, Mary becomes one in a long, long line of questionable characters, as we will see in the geneology of Jesus as found in Matthew’s Gospel. I’m not going to read the whole thing, but you have it in front of you.

Matthew’s gospel begins with “An account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” Now Abraham was chosen by God to be the forefather of his chosen people—again not because of anything Abraham did or didn’t do, except he believed God—mostly. But Abraham wasn’t perfect. When his wife didn’t conceive the promised child, he went to his wife’s servant and produced and heir. And other times he tried to pass of his wife as his sister—not very honest. But the genealogy says that Abraham was father of Isaac—no mention of Ishmael. And Isaac was the father of Jacob—Jacob who stole the birthright and blessing of his deserving elder brother Esau. Jacob was the father of Judah—why Judah and not the great Joseph? Joseph, sold into slavery, imprisoned in Egypt, but became the salvation of his family during times of drought.

Interesting how God uses men who sell their brother into slavery, who lie their way into prominence. And what about David who had an affair with Bathsheba, and then had her husband killed—David who was a man after God’s heart nonetheless. And Matthew’s genealogy includes five women—and not very reputable women at that. Not the wives of the patriarchs, not Sarah or Rebecca or Rachel, but Tamar, a Canaanite. Tamar who dressed as a prostitute and seduced her father in law in order to have a son. Rahab, another Canaanite woman and a true prostitute. And Ruth the Moabite. And Bathsheba, the mother of King Solomon by David, is mentioned only as the wife of Uriah who David killed. And finally Mary, the mother of Jesus though a rather unconventional pregnancy.

But Jesus came for those who were troubled, for the prostitutes and lepers, sinners and tax collectors. Those who didn’t find favor with other men found favor with Jesus. The genealogy demonstrates that Jesus’ ancestors include many questionable characters—an equal opportunity ministry. And then there’s the last 14 generations between the exile and the birth of Christ—all unknown to us! All ordinary men—used by God as the human ancestors of Jesus. These people were not the stars, were not extraordinarily good or kind or honest. Some were betrayers and outcasts and liars; all were combinations of sinner and saint. Many were obscure and unknown—like us. Ordinary people living ordinary lives, used by God in an utterly extraordinary way. If God can use all of these people, all 42 generations from Abraham to Jesus, we can be assured that he can—and will—use us, with our flaws and our talents. If we could see a bigger picture, we might be amazed and astounded—like Mary—at how God is using us to fulfill some great purpose. May we be willing to be instruments for God’s work in the world. With Mary we will say “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

[1] Bock, Darrell L. The NIV Application Commentary: Luke. Zondervan, p. 57
[2] Ibid, 58.

Year B, 3 Advent

2009-01-31T10:17:00.000-08:00

Again, I apologize for the gap in posting, computer problems for a while (had to get a new moniter) and then it just seemed like quite a task. I'll do my best to catch up.

This sermon was given at St. Andrews in Carbondale.

As I’m sure you know, the lectionary we use for our Sunday lessons is a 3 year cycle. Year A, focused on the Gospel according to Matthew, just ended and we are now in Church Year B, and most of our gospel readings come from the Gospel according to Mark. Year C, the 3rd year of the cycle, focuses on the Gospel according to Luke—and the Gospel of John is sprinkled among the three.

If you read the 4 gospels, it is clear that one of these 4 things is not like the others. John seems to have a different language almost. From the prologue (you know, “in the beginning was the word and the word was with God and the Word was God) to his parables its’ a different animal. There are many stories in John that don’t appear in the others—the Synoptic gospels—like the Miracle at the Wedding in Caana, to the story of the Samaritan woman, to the woman caught in adultery (whoever is without sin cast the first stone).

It’s from the Gospel of John that we believe Jesus’ public ministry lasted about 3 years, from about year 27 to 30, because it mentions 3 Passover feasts. Mark’s gospel was the first to be written, probably around the year 70. And John’s gospel was probably the last of the four to be written, and it presumes knowledge of the others—evidenced by the remark in today’s gospel “John, of course, had not yet been thrown into prison.” John was probably written by year 100—the author had many more years to reflect on Jesus’ mission and ministry, to develop the theology which is more present in this gospel.

The Gospel of John is my favorite—so I’m always glad to see it pop up in the lectionary.

But sometimes the lectionary reading doesn’t start where I think it should—and so I’d like to back up a verse. Verse 22 says “Jesus and his disciples went into the Judean countryside, and he spent some time there with them and baptized.” The Gospel of John presents the only evidence that Jesus—or his disciples—baptized, though in chapter 4 it is clarified that it was his disciples who were baptizing, presumably with Jesus’ authorization. Probably a good thing that Jesus himself wasn’t baptizing—can you imagine the elitism that might have resulted in being baptized by Jesus? And in our gospel—John the Baptist was also baptizing—they seemed to be working the same area, perhaps even working together.

A dispute broke out between one of the Baptists followers and another man. We don’t know what the nature of the disagreement was—though it probably had to do with baptism. Perhaps it was a question by someone from the Jewish leadership regarding the nature of John’s baptism. Baptism was common for gentiles converting to Judaism, but Jews weren’t routinely baptized, though ceremonial washings for purification were common. Perhaps they thought that baptism for Jews didn’t make sense—and why is this man baptizing?

In any event, the fact of Jesus’ followers also baptizing must have come up, and the issue regarding the nature of baptism loses importance in light of the perceived threat presented by Jesus’ growing popularity. John’s followers seem to be more than a little jealous, even though they were witnesses of John’s testimony concerning Jesus—Jesus who received the Spirit, Jesus, the Lamb of God. Jesus, the coming one. John’s followers though don’t even mention Jesus by name. “Rabbi, the one who was with you across the Jordon, to whom you testified, here he is baptizing, and all are going to him.” They aren’t too happy about this situation, and resent Jesus’ increasing fame.

John the Baptist’s response is meant as a corrective. “No one can receive anything except what has been given from heaven.” If Jesus has received more followers’ then they were given from heaven, from God. In fact, all of life is a gift, all is grace, all is from God. As such, Jesus should not be criticized. After all, John reminds them that he had said “I am not the Messiah, but I have been sent ahead of him.” He is like the best man at the wedding—sharing in the bridegroom’s joy. The best man rejoices in his friend’s happiness. The Baptist concludes, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” John knows his role is to be 2nd fiddle, to point to Jesus. He has even encouraged his disciples to follow Jesus. “He must increase, but I must increase.” While “the Baptist continued to have a following . . . it is probably part of John the Evangelist’s purpose to set straight followers of the Baptist in his own day.”[1]

“John [the Baptist is] a model of humility. . . . He is completely self-emptied, being defined solely in terms of Jesus. His example of humility is expressed most memorably here: He must become greater; I must become less. . . .John’s joy is in fulfilling God’s will for his life—a model of Christian discipleship.”[2]

So where do we find our joy? Is joy a word that characterizes us? Sadly, I’m not sure that all too many Christians would be characterized that way. Certainly there seems to be an absence of joy in our world, as well as a shortage of commitment, constancy, patience and perseverance—and an overwhelming interest in self-esteem, self-assertiveness, self-enhancement, and self-realization. Do you hear a theme here? Is there a connection between our obsession with self—and our absence of joy? Perhaps!

I think sometimes it’s a good idea to reflect on the lives of the saints—big S or small S. We can get a different perspective on things. So today I’d like to introduce you to Charles Simeon.

Charles was born in 1756 in England, and apparently his mother died when he was very young. His father was a wealthy attorney, but not a Christian. When Charles was 7 he was sent to The Royal College of Eton, the best boarding school. He was known for his fancy dress, athleticism, and his tendency to be a show off. Charles was also rather homely. He did receive a good education, and at 19 he went to Cambridge. In those days Cambridge was not a Christian place, except perhaps in form, and early on he was required to attend the Lord’s Supper. And he was frightened, somehow knowing that he was unworthy. He tried to repent, but got nowhere, really, except that he made it through his first communion. He continued to study and search, and during Holy Week he read something that made him realize that he could cast his sins on Jesus—that God had provided a sin offering for him. By Easter he was filled with joy, knowing he was right with God and that Jesus his savior.

Without any outside support, he became a zealous Christian. He was ordained as a deacon in the Church in 1782, and later that year he became vicar of St. Edwards Church in Cambridge when their previous vicar died. He was pastor there for 54 years!! He had a great impact on many students passing through the University, and was very involved with the growing missionary movement growing in England. And he preached—he presented 21 volumes of his collected sermons to the King in 1833, 3 years before he died.

But Simeon’s life was far from easy. The people in St Edward’s Church didn’t want him—they wanted the assistant curate to be the new vicar and opposed him at every turn. For 12 years he was not allowed to preach a Sunday evening service—they hired an assistant to keep him out. And Sunday mornings weren’t much better. Those were the days when people “owned” their pews, and they were cubicles that locked. The parishioners locked the pews and didn’t show up. When Charles set up seats in the aisles, they threw them out! When he went to visit, doors rarely opened. For 12 years, he persevered in his service through word and prayer and community involvement, and finally, finally the congregation came around.

For a while. In 1812, after he had been there over 30 years, he again hit a rocky spell—one might think it was time to move on. But he stayed and worked through it, and in 1816 the church was filled with peace.

Talk about a tough situation!! I’m not sure there are many today who would persevere through all that!! I’m not sure I would! But Charles had a few things going for him. He had a strong sense of accountability to God for his charge, for his church. He spent many hours in prayer and study. He was involved with the community. He knew he was commissioned, not by the people, but by the Lord. His preaching was never accusative, but grounded in scripture. He lived a modest lifestyle, and was ever optimistic—at least in public. If he suffered, it was for the privilege of bearing the cross with Christ. And he imitated John the Baptist—it was his chief aim to grow downward in humility and upward in adoring communion with God. His adoration grew as he searched out and understood his own sinfulness. He sought to be “not only humbled and thankful, but humbled in thankfulness before God and his Savior”. He served and preached until 2 months before he died at the age of 77, in 1836, a remarkable example of persistence, patience and perseverance.

Echoing the Baptist, I pray that Christ will increase in us while we decrease. And like Charles Simeon, May we grow downward in humility and upward in adoration of our Lord and Savior, that our Joy may be full. Amen.

[1] Whitacre, Rodney. The IVP New Testament Commentary Series: John. Intervarsity Press, 1999, p. 96.
[2] Ibid, 97.

Year B, Advent 2.

2009-01-31T09:55:00.001-08:00

Sorry for the long gap between postings, had computer troubles and got behind.

Following is my Sermon from 2 Advent, Dec. 7th, given at St. Mark's and St. James.

We are well into December, heading towards Christmas, a season of joy and light. The hustle and bustle of the holidays energizes us. And there’s some Christmas song that talks of this being the hap=happiest season of all! Joy to the World!!

And yet perhaps the continuous Christmas music we are bombarded with in the stores and the malls feels a bit artificial. Maybe we don’t really feel this great joy and happiness. Maybe we’ve got the blaahs. Tired of winter—and it’s not even here yet. Or perhaps we are discouraged that we can’t do—or buy—everything we want to this year, and we are struggling just to get by, just to make it. Perhaps our retirement nest egg has shrunk considerably. Perhaps we are dealing with loss—of a relationship, of a loved one. And maybe, just maybe we are discouraged about our church. Things just aren’t going as well as we wish they were. Some of us are feeling helpless, hopeless.

And it’s to people like us that Isaiah wrote, to people who have lost hope. Everything they feared has happened. Their nation fell to Babylon, the great Temple had been destroyed, and God had let them down. To make things worse, the Israelites had been prisoners in Babylon for some 40 years. They probably thought that their future held nothing but regret and disappointment. “Yes, God may have acted in the past, for other people, but this situation is beyond him. It is beyond his compassion . . . and beyond his power.”[1] But the time of discipline is over and now it’s time for comfort. Yes, they have been crushed under the weight of their sins and troubles. They feel all is lost and God has abandoned them, but the message of Isaiah is that this is not so. The punishment is over and God speaks words of hope.

God speaks not of judgment or punishment but of comfort. “Comfort, Comfort my people,” says your God. Comfort, comfort!! Urgently comfort! You are my people, and I am your God!! Speak tenderly, like a mother soothing her child, you have served your punishment.

And a voice cries out “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

There is a highway in the desert—for God. The people who heard Isaiah expected God to come to helpless Israel to set her free. And nothing can prevent his swift coming to his people’s aid, neither mountains nor valleys. The highway will be level and straight, so that God can come quickly. If there is to be deliverance and salvation for God’s people—for all people, it must be from God’s direct intervention. There was and is no other hope.

There is no other hope, because all flesh is like grass. There is no permanence in flesh, there is nothing they can do to help themselves. There is nothing permanent about humanity, for all flesh is like grass, withering and dying, but if God speaks, he will do what he promises. Nothing on earth can prevent God from fulfilling his promises.

And that is the good news, glad tidings. Israel, Jerusalem, Zion are not just recipients of God’s grace, but are messengers of grace to the world. God will intervene. He will break the power of evil with his strong arm, and like a shepherd he will gently gather the lambs in his arms, and gently lead his sheep.

God acts in time and in history, and about 700 years later, there’s another voice. Mark writes, The Beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

This way leads us to the desert, This way leads to a wild prophet in the wilderness, a man named John. This prophet of God reminds us of the Old Testament prophets— Mark quotes our Isaiah passage, and John prepares the way by leveling the ground and calling all Israel to repentance.

All four gospels prominently discuss John the Baptist as the predecessor of Jesus, the one who prepares the way. Luke places the setting in time and in history. This should not be surprising—God works in human history! The whole bible tells of his involvement in human history.

In a complex setting the Word of God came to John, just as in years past the Word of the Lord came to Abraham, Samuel, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and other prophets. This is the sign of a prophet. And John was in the wilderness, the desert. In Israel’s history, the desert was an important place. The desert was where Israel first encountered God and faithfully responded to Him. The law was given in the Desert of Sinai, the prophets went to the desert to commune with God, and the Israelites spent 40 years in the desert—before they crossed the Jordon River into the Promised Land. And now we find John at the Jordan.

John preaches a baptism for repentance and forgiveness of sins. This baptism is unprecedented. This was a call to prepare for the arrival of salvation, a one-time baptism in honor of the arrival of salvation—for all people! Revolutionary! What was radical was not forgiveness of sins, but that he, John, offered baptism as a means of obtaining it! The religious leadership would have said that rites for forgiveness belonged to the temple and the priests. And then John calls Israel to repent. The Greek word for repentance means most commonly a change of mind. But the Hebrew concept of repentance is the idea of turning—turning toward God!! To be prepared for God’s salvation, one must turn away from sin and self, and turn to God. One must be open to hear and receive his message. One must turn to God and have faith in Christ in order to have hope.

John’s way was not mainstream. To go out to someone like this in the desert required a break with the institution and culture of Jerusalem and the traditions of Judaism. It was not an easy path! Those who responded to John’s call were heeding the call to prepare for the arrival of salvation—the arrival of the One for whom John was preparing the way!

Their hope was for the Messiah, and this is our hope, too. The hope of Israel and the hope of the Church is Jesus. And God who acted in time and history by sending his Son, is willing and able to act in our time to comfort us and to change our circumstances. We are called to “a life of faith in God, a life where we truly release ourselves into his hands without any reservation, a life where we are constantly giving ourselves and our concerns into the caring Creator’s hands.”[2]

800 years earlier, Israel didn’t trust in God but in other nations, and that led to their capture and exile in Babylon. But when they cried out to God, he spoke tenderly, with words of comfort and hope. They heard him in new ways, ways that changed their thinking.

“That is what we need too. We need lives of faith that are shaped by the Word of God, its view of reality, and the principles that emerge from it. If I cannot ‘believe’ God and ‘hope’ in him in the sense of surrendering my life to him . . . then his power cannot transform me. But if I will actively believe his Word, there really are no limits to what he can do for me, for my family, for my society.”[3]

The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God will stand for ever. His promises will never fail. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. And He is our only hope. Comfort, comfort my people says our God. Amen.

[1] Oswalt, John. The NIV Application Commentary: Isaiah. Zondervan p. 454.
[2] Ibid, 454
[3] Ibid, 455

Feast of St. Andrew

2008-12-01T14:22:00.000-08:00

(St. Andrews, Carbondale. Evensong)

God was silent.

In fact, he’d been silent for a long time. It had been about 400 years since the last of the prophets. And Israel, the Jews, were still waiting. Waiting and watching. Wondering when God would send the messiah. When Israel would once again be a kingdom, a nation. How long will you tarry, o Lord? How long?

Sure there had been a few uprisings, but the Jews were tired of living under foreign domination, foreign oppression. First the Greeks and their successors, and now the Romans. Pax Romana—hah!! Peace as long as you don’t ruffle any feathers. Peace as long as you pay your taxes. Peace, what kind of peace was that. Obey Caesar. Obey Herod. Herod that Jewish pretender, he wasn’t any better. They all wanted to be worshipped. But the Jews were called to worship only God. The one God. The God of their forefathers, of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. The Creator God.

There’s been a few Jewish revolts and uprisings, but they didn’t have any kind of lasting impact. And lately it seemed that every few years someone would rise out of obscurity, claiming to be the messiah. But they didn’t last either. Rumors of messiah flew faster than gossip, faster than the wind. They seemed to be looking for the Messiah under every rock almost.

And then, a new voice. A voice in the wilderness. They called him John the Baptizer. He certainly looked like a prophet, wearing clothes made from camel hair and a rough leather belt around his waist. And he ate locusts and wild honey. But he was popular in a way I suppose. Popular as a spectacle. Popular because perhaps he’s the one. He’s out there at the Jordan River, saying “Repent!! The Kingdom of God is near1” Thousand flocked to him to be washed in that great muddy river, washed as they repented from their sins.

There was a man named Andrew and his young friend John, a fellow fisherman from his village. They thought that maybe this guy was the Messiah. They became followers, disciples. They lived with him, followed him. And he was pretty strict about his religion. No soft pillows, no testing the limits of the law. They spent a lot of time in prayer. I mean, a lot. And to hear him preach sounded like thunder and lightning. But when the Pharisees came out to see what was going on, they asked the Baptizer point blank: Who are you? And his response? I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord. Then they asked: Why are you baptizing if you are not the Messiah, not Elijah? And he said, one is coming. One is coming after me and I’m not worthy even to untie his sandals.

It was just a few days later that Andrew and his friend John were standing around with the Baptizer. A man walked by—a man who had been baptized a day or two earlier. Yeshua, they called him. Jesus. And the baptizer pointed him out to his disciples: look, there goes the Lamb of God.

The Lamb of God? They began searching their minds for the scriptures. Even Jewish fishermen knew more about the scriptures than we do. The Lamb of God. Isaiah spoke of one who is “like a lamb led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent . . . [and who] bore the sin of many.” The Lamb of God—perhaps it’s the paschal lamb, whose blood on their doorposts saved the Israelites from death back in Exodus, before they were delivered from Egypt.

Andrew and his friend were curious. After all, the Baptizer wouldn’t have pointed him out if he wasn’t important, would he? And so they began to follow him. They had only gone a few steps when the man, Jesus, turned to them and asked, “What are you seeking?” Andrew was caught of guard by this question. All he could think was to ask the rabbi, the teacher, “Where are you staying.” And he said, “Come and see.” And so they followed him to where he was staying, and remained with him all day. They came to see where he lived, and they found that he had life in himself. They went to see where he lived, and they found life. They listened to him, and knew that he was something special. He wasn’t like the other teachers and religious leaders. There was something else . . . something deeper. And his manner, his eyes. Maybe, maybe, this one is the hope of Israel.

Andrew went looking for his brother. He had special news to share, and the one he wanted to share it with was Simon. Simon the bold one. Simon the older brother. Simon who was always first. But now Andrew was first. Andrew had news, and he found his brother—and told his brother, “We have found the Messiah!” Andrew the younger brother took Simon by the hand and almost dragged him – to meet the Rabbi. Strangest thing! Jesus took one look at him and said. You are Simon, son of John. But now you will be Peter. You are Rock.

But it was Andrew who brought him. Andrew who was first. Andrew who was the first witness, the first missionary, the first evangelist. Andrew probably repeated Jesus’ words, “come and see.” We have found the Messiah—come and see. The Greek word for found is the word heurisko – the source of our word “Eureka.” It’s an astounding discovery, more of an awareness really. Something is there and you learn something previously unknown. There’s an element of surprise. Finding the Messiah really was an unexpected surprise, the surprise of Jesus breaking into their minds and their lives in a way that they knew things would never be the same. Eureka!!

Jesus should have that effect on people. When he enters into our minds and hearts and lives, we are changed, and we will never be the same. And like Andrew, we are called to come and see, and then to ask our friends and brothers and sisters to come and see.

What is the best form of advertising? No, it’s not a multi-million dollar 30 second spot during the Superbowl. It’s word of mouth. Friends telling friends. The best form of advertising is when a friend tells you about a new restaurant, or their doctor, or their hairstylist. Friends invite friends to join the Lion’s Club, or Rotary. Friends invite friends to hear about new products in home parties or marketing schemes. So why is it so hard for us to invite people to church?

For one thing, our culture really doesn’t like to talk about religion, about Christianity. And Maybe we think that religion is a private matter, and we don’t want to force our beliefs on anyone. Not good enough. Jesus came to save the whole world—and if we don’t tell them, how will they know. Maybe we are shy and don’t like to talk to people—but even the shyest probably speak to dozens of people a week. Maybe we don’t feel confident enough in our faith—but we need to be prepared and confident. We don’t have to have all the theology and the doctrine, but we need to be able to tell someone what a difference Jesus has made in our lives.

And maybe we have concerns about our church. Maybe we don’t think there’s much worth inviting others to? Do we think our services are boring, or predictable, or perhaps confusing? What can we do to make our church more positive, so that we are more comfortable inviting people. In everything we do, we should think about how it would be perceived by an outsider, a visitor.

And it’s certainly not just about gimmicks and the right kind of worship—none of this is meaningful if we don’t point to Jesus. There must be something substantial for visitors to receive. And I think the Episcopal or Anglican Church has a lot to offer, even—and especially--to this postmodern world.

What will people ‘come and see’ in our congregations? Will they see that we are Jesus’ disciples by the way we love one another (13:35)? Will they see that we have heard Jesus’ word so that his joy is in us and our joy is complete (15:11)? Will they see us pointing to ourselves, to our own achievements and hard work or will they see us being proper symbols and witnesses, pointing to Christ? Will they see us as sinners who confess our imperfections and unholiness and receive new life from Christ?[1]

When we say, come and see, I pray that those who come will say “Eureka!” We have found the Messiah. We have found Jesus. We have found his Church—and it’s St. Andrew’s.”

[1] http://www.crossmarks.com/brian/john1x29.htm

Year B Advent 1, 11/3/08

2008-12-01T14:18:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!! Today is the first day of the New Year according to the church calendar. A fresh start, a new era. Wake up!! Last year featured the gospel according to Matthew, and now we move on to the Gospel according to Mark. Matthew was all about Kingdom and discipleship, while Mark has a different flavor. His gospel might be the Cliff Notes version, or perhaps Joe Friday’s version: just the facts, ma’am, just the facts. And his favorite word was “immediately.” Everything happens “immediately.”

Today marks the beginning of Advent. The season of Advent begins 4 Sunday’s before Christmas. And I love how countercultural Advent is. We are looking ahead to Christ’s coming, but we aren’t singing Christmas carols. In contrast to the hustle and bustle of the holidays, Advent is a time of quiet preparation. Instead of shopping, it’s waiting and watching. Instead of light, it’s darkness, just before the dawn.

We are waiting. Waiting for Christmas. Waiting for the 2nd coming of Christ. Advent means. Arrival. Dawn. Beginning. And in the middle of our quiet waiting today’s readings come crashing in like an out of tune symphony. Discord and dissonance.

From our Old Testament reading in Isaiah (from the Message bible) Oh, that you would rip open the heavens and descend, make the mountains shudder at your presence—As when a forest catches fire, as when fire makes a pot to boil—To shock your enemies into facing you, make the nations shake in their boots!You did terrible things we never expected, descended and made the mountains shudder at your presence.

And our gospel
in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in clouds' with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

This is apocalyptic writing, looking at the end of the world, the end of the age. Here we are at a beginning, looking at the end.

We’ve heard much ado about the current economic crisis, and that it is an apocalyptic event resulting in much destruction and change. The naysayers are in every newspaper and on every television. And it’s not hard to find those who view this economic crisis as part of God’s warning to the world. They say that if God’ can’t get our attention through famines, wars, earthquakes and the like, he will hit our pocketbooks. After all, money is the real god of the age and our God is a jealous God. This too is warning and judgment. The collapse of our economy is only one sign. And then I found a guy who said that not just Wall Street, but all of New York City will be destroyed-- by nuclear attack—at the end of 2008, around Christmas.[1] I guess we will have to wait and see on that one!!

The apocalyptic literature in the bible, mostly in Daniel and in Revelation, but also in the Gospels as we read today and in Paul’s letters has invited more interpreters, timelines, and forecasts than anything in history, and perhaps more kooks and crazies! History is riddled with vain predictions about the end times, about Christ’s coming again. There are those who are fascinated by eschatology, the signs and the times, and there are those who are turned off by this whole things, thinking that it’s too strange and disturbing, just the province of fools and fanatics, like the guy who said the end of the world begins in December of this year.

But I think our readings in Mark are supposed to provide a voice of reason. While assuredly Christ will come again, there is no timetable given either in Mark or anywhere in scripture. Jesus does not intend for us to try to figure it all out. Speaking only to Peter, John, James and Andrew, his inner circle, Jesus simply says, “in those days, following that suffering.” He’s teaching his disciples to be ready for anything, anytime. But trying to figure out times and dates is fruitless, a distraction from doing God’s work in the world.

Yes, the end is certain, and the cosmic distress will make it clear that the end of the world has come. We don’t need to search here and there, to analyze the world news in light of biblical prophecy. When it happens, even the sky will tremble in fear and terror, and the sun will be dark and the moon won’t give light, and the stars will fall from the sky. These will happen because Jesus appears. There won’t be any warning, but Jesus will come in glory. And those who have faithfully responded to the gospel will be gathered by the angels, from the four corners of the earth.

But we don’t know when the end will come. It will come on a day just as ordinary as the summer bringing leaves to the trees. Heaven and earth will pass away, but the words of Jesus will not. And yet, no one knows when the end will come. The kooks and crazies and fanatics don’t know, we don’t know, the angels don’t know, and even Jesus himself doesn’t know. Only the Father knows when the end will come. No one knows but God the Father. The end will come without warning and no amount of calculations will enable people to predict it.

And so the disciples and servants are to beware, to keep watch, for we don’t know when the time will come. Like the doorkeeper of a man going on a journey, we are to keep watch, to be ready.

What kind of servant is it that requires a master to look constantly over his shoulder to make sure he does his job faithfully and properly? How can the doorkeeper fulfill his duties if he spends his time computing how long the day will last? Jesus’ warnings affirm that only those who are valiant under fire and vigilant during the delay will be vindicated in the end. We are to work faithfully because the Master will return, and we are created to work with assurance because it’s the Master who returns.[2]

The end will come, and it will come suddenly. Therefore Jesus challenges his disciples then and now to keep awake.

Keep awake!!. We have lost sight of the immanence of Christ’s return, and we have become complacent. We must be alert, living in hopeful expectation, with our eyes, minds and hearts focused on the task at hand. One source said that the worst “ism” in the world is not fascism or communism but somnambulism. Somnambulism is sleep walking. We don’t realize that our ideals are being wilted away, that our purposes are being pared down, that the evil forces in the world are gaining strength. We need to watch and pray against the sin that trips us up, how easily we make compromises which seem so reasonable but end up so wrong. We need to watch and pray that we don’t neglect our communion with God and with each other. We need to watch and pray, seizing opportunities to be of service to God’s kingdom.[3]

Wake up!! Be ready! We are ready when we are involved . . . when we are feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting prisoners. We are awake when we have regular times of prayer and communion with God.

Do you know who Barbara Brown Taylor is? She is an Episcopal priest well known for her preaching. In fact, Baylor University called her one of the 12 most effective preachers in the English speaking world. She pastored a small church in Georgia with great success, and has written probably a dozen books, many of them collections of her homilies. Several years ago she got burned out and left parish ministry for a teaching position at Piedmont College in Georgia. She then wrote a book, a memoir about her experiences called “Leaving Church.” I read it a couple of years ago, and to me, it was about how not to do ministry. She was so busy being successful, being a priest, that she didn’t take time with God. She didn’t take time to pray. Barbara always thought that when such and such happened, she would take time. But it never happened. She eventually realized she wasn’t doing any good for her church, for her family, or for God because there wasn’t any time to be quiet and still and pray. It was a great reminder to me to take time, make time with God, to watch and to listen and to pray! And we all need time with God in order to serve him—wherever we are.

Wake up!! Be alert!! Watch and pray!!

[1] http://www.apocalypse2008-2015.com/apocalypse-chapter7.html#NewYork
[2] Garland, David E. The NIV Application Commentary: Mark. Zondervan, 503.
[3] The Interpreter’s Bible , vol 7. Abingdon Press, 1951: p.865.

Thanksgiving 2008

2008-12-01T14:13:00.000-08:00

West Frankfort Ministerial Association Community Service—Northern Baptist Chuch

I hope you are finding this service of Evening Prayer interesting—I enjoyed putting it together for you all. I would guess that most all of your churches, your denominations, at some time or other came out of either the Roman Catholic church, or the Church of England, so in a sense maybe we are worshipping in a manner consistent with our shared heritage. Perhaps its part of our common story. And in a sense, that’s what I’d like to talk about this evening. Our stories.

First of all, if I were to use the word “myth” – M-Y-T-H—what comes to mind? I have a feeling that if I were to talk about “the Creation myth” for example, more than a few of you would be disturbed by that. In common usage, we’ve come to consider the word Myth to mean something that isn’t true, something made up, a fable or fairy tale. But in its proper sense, myth is the truth in the form of a story. One source said that “a myth is a true story, and it may also have happened.”[1] In a book I’m reading by Madeleine L’Engle, she talks about the ancient meaning of myth; “that which was true, that which is true, that which will be true,.”[2] A myth is what we know in our hearts to be true.

The Israelites used the idea of story, of myth, in many ways. Dozens of psalms recount the great work of God in delivering his people. Every year at the Passover they recounted how God delivered them from Pharaoh and brought them out of Egypt—and this is still an integral part of the Jewish faith and tradition. Myths and stories define a people, define a nation. And a nation needs a common story in order to be united. As Christians we are united by the story of Christmas, the story of Easter, the story of Jesus. We are united when we pray the Lord’s Prayer together. We are united here tonight.

The psalm we read together, Psalm 145, also has been used as a common prayer and was important in Jewish worship and liturgy. I discovered that the Dead Sea Scrolls contain Psalm 145, with each verse followed by the same refrain: “Blessed is God and blessed is his name forever.” Later rabbis made it the norm to recite this psalm 3 times a day—it was that important. They pointed to verse 17, where God opens his hand and satisfies the need of every creature—this shows God’s grace and providence towards his creation—and they believed that those who recite this psalm would gain entry to the world to come. It was that significant.

While we know that we gain entry to the world to come only by faith in Jesus, this psalm still speaks to us. The first few verses show the psalmist’s purpose: to bless the Lord continually, to praise him and bless him, every day, for ever and ever. God is the King, the ruler of the universe, and great beyond our comprehension. The next section shows what praising God consists of. First of all, we must appreciate his greatness which is revealed in his works, in his mighty acts, in the splendor of his majesty, in his glorious works, and in the might of his wondrous acts. Do you hear a theme? Something about the greatness of God and the works of God? The psalmist seems to recognize God’s divine greatness, and he wants others to share in that understanding. The world and all of creation, the glory of the heavens, all declare God’s sovereignty, and so does his goodness and righteousness, his providence in caring for creation. We need to appreciate God’s goodness and mercy. And in light of God’s goodness and his compassion, his loving-kindness, we should be moved to praise Him. God knows that man is frail and needy and in need of his mercy. He is patient and slow to anger. An all your works praise you, and your faithful servants bless you! Blessed is God and blessed is his name forever!

For God’s kingdom is filled with justice and mercy, and his power and his might are demonstrated in his kingdom. The existence of the Kingdom of God will reflect the power of God in the universe. But God is personal, too. He supports those who fall and lifts those who are bowed down. He provides food for his creatures and opens his hand in love and grace. He is near to those who call him with faith, and he responds to the requests and pleas of those who love and respect him. But God is still a God of justice. He preserves those who love him but will destroy the wicked.

God’s love and justice as recited in this psalm are shown to all of mankind. God is faithful, just and kind to those who call on him. For all that he is, and for all that he does, the Lord is to be praised by all flesh, all people. Blessed is God and blessed is his name forever!!

When we pray the psalms, we are sharing in the stories of 2000 years of Christianity, and another thousand years of Judaism. The psalms are part of our common heritage, our story. The psalm spoke of the might of God’s wondrous acts; and the Exodus story was probably in mind, another one of our shared stories, a true myth.

The Exodus story is a good story, a common story. When the pilgrims landed in New England, they used the story of the Exodus to understand what had happened to them, too. They considered Europe to be equivalent to Egypt, and the crossing of the Atlantic Ocean was the Red Sea. The new world was their promised land. While the hardships of their first years were more difficult than we can even imagine, in their struggles they identified with the struggles of Israel, and were able to persevere. They believed that God had delivered them from the yoke of bondage to freedom in the New World, and their suffering would be worth it all—they would have a better life for themselves and for their children.

So the story of the Exodus is a universal story, defining the present, bringing strength to endure in difficult times, and giving hope.

And as Americans we have another common story, that of Thanksgiving. We are united as a people because we accept and identify with this story. While there were other, earlier Thanksgiving observances in the New World, the one we commemorate goes back to 1621: 387 years ago

In any event, the colonists arrived in winter of 1620, and in the first few months nearly half of them died! Talk about discouraging. But by the summer of 1621 things were looking up. The expected a good corn crop, though other crops weren’t doing very well. Even so, the governor of the colony arranged for a harvest festival. Harvest festivals were an ancient idea, but it seemed a good one, a good idea to thank God for his sustenance and providence. And the feast lasted 3 days. Ducks, geese and turkeys were on the menu, along with clams, fish, wild plums and leeks, cornbread and watercress. Indians who had helped them survive their first year were also invited and brought deer meat. It was a great celebration. A couple years later, as the colony prospered, Governor Bradford announced a day to be set aside to “render thanksgiving to the Almighty God for all of his blessings.” And the idea spread, but not with any real regularity. It wasn’t until Abraham Lincoln declared a national holiday that the celebration of Thanksgiving became uniform, became more truly our shared story.

On October 3, 1863, Abraham Lincoln proclaimed, by Act of Congress, an annual National Day of Thanksgiving "on the last Thursday of November, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the heavens." In this Thanksgiving proclamation, our 16th President says that it is…
"…announced in the Holy Scriptures and proven by all history, that those nations are blessed whose God is the Lord… But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us, and we have vainly imagined, by the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own… It has seemed to me fit and proper that God should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged, as with one heart and one voice, by the whole American people…"[3]

As we gather with our families tomorrow, may we remember and give thanks to God for his gracious open hands, and for all that he has done. Blessed is God and blessed is his name forever. Amen.

[1] http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/trotter_3823.htm
[2] L’Engle, Madeleine. Story as Truth: The Rock that is Higher. Wheaton, IL: Harold Shaw Publishers, 1993, p.24.
[3] http://www.christiananswers.net/q-eden/ednkc002.html

Year A Proper 29, the Feast of Christ the King

2008-11-24T16:23:00.000-08:00

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

Year A Proper 28 Nov. 16, 2008

2008-11-24T16:19:00.000-08:00

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

Year A, Proper 27, 11/09/08

2008-11-14T14:16:00.000-08:00

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

All Saints Sunday 2008

2008-11-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

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

Year A, Proper 18, 09/07/08, St.Stephen's

2008-09-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

This weeks’ gospel reading sure doesn’t sound very Episcopalian does it? It might be fine for some of “those” kinds of churches to have certain steps for church discipline as it says, but we certainly wouldn’t do that. For us, it’s all about live and let live. And The Episcopal Church welcomes you (our Evangelism slogan . . . and method). In fact, our gospel reading almost doesn’t sound very Christian, with all it’s talk about casting sinners out of the congregation and lumping them with, well, sinners. For me, it was a struggle this week to figure out how to approach this text—one of the particular challenges of having a lectionary is we don’t have much freedom to pick and choose our texts, but must address those given us. And certainly the Old Testament lesson wasn’t any better!! I’m not sure I want to even touch that one . . . but of course I could.

One thing that is important to remember is that all our readings are always taken out of context, and context is important. In this section of Matthew, Jesus is talking with his disciples about the problem of sin in the fellowship. Right before our reading, Jesus talks about the 1 sheep that has strayed, and the shepherd leaves the 99 sheep on the mountain to go after the one, so great is his love for each one of his precious sheep. So the words we heard today seem to be a sharp contrast to that idea, and to the idea of grace. And in fact, the steps Matthew puts forward are very similar to the Law spelled out in Leviticus and Deuteronomy. And Matthew was writing to a predominantly Jewish audience, so this would have been familiar to them.

But there are several things that especially got my attention as I studied and reflected on this passage. First of all, look at how it starts. “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone.” Did you catch that? “If your brother sins against you.” “You” are the one that was wronged, you are the ‘victim’ of your brothers sin. And you are to reach out to your brother, quietly, in order to save your brother’s honor and maintain family ties. The victim takes the initiative. Not what we would expect, is it. We wait for the one who has hurt us to come and apologize, don’t we?

Then there is the talk about binding and loosing. The wording is almost identical to what we heard a few weeks ago when Peter said, “you are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” And Jesus responded “I will give you the keys to the kingdom, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Same as today, but today Jesus is addressing the disciples. The “you” is plural—more like you all, or you’uns. What I discovered is that binding and loosing is a Jewish legal idea, where binding meant something was prohibited, and loosing meant it was allowed. The rabbis were called on to interpret the law, like what might be permitted on the Sabbath, and they ruled accordingly, whether some behavior was bound or loosed, prohibited or allowed.

And then I read something about the keys to the kingdom. In the Lutheran church, they have what they call the Office of the Keys. This is defined as “that authority which Christ gave to his church to forgive the sins of those who repent and to declare to those who do not repent that their sins are not forgiven.”[1] In support of this idea, they cite the scripture about binding and loosing, and then in John, Jesus said "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained" (John 20:23). So, at least in the Lutheran tradition, the “Office of the Keys gives power to forgive and retain sins (loosing and binding), i. e., not merely to announce and to declare to men the remission or retention of sins, but actually to give forgiveness to penitent sinners and to deny forgiveness to impenitent sinners.”[2] Sounds like our gospel reading, doesn’t it?

So, with all that as foundational material, I’m going to talk today about one of the greatest gifts the church offers today. And one of the most unnatural aspects of God’s grace. I’m talking about forgiveness.

In the Lord’s Prayer we say “forgive us our sins (or trespasses), as we forgive those who sin against us.” Wow. We ask that we are forgiven to the same extent that we forgive others. And forgiveness is hard!! When we’ve been wronged, when we’ve been the victim, it’s hard to forgive—to really and honestly forgive—isn’t it? Forgiveness is about reaching out to the one who has hurt us, the one who “done us wrong,” taking the initiative. Because if we don’t reach out, the chasm widens, the hurts grow, our heart gets harder and harder, and we become shut off from those who have hurt us.

Still, it’s not an easy thing, to forgive. Maybe little things, but what about the big things? What about when you discover your spouse has had an affair. What about if your child is murdered? What about if your niece is raped . . . ? The list could go on and on—there are probably people in your life you really don’t want to forgive, for one reason or another, probably smaller offenses than these. And yet, as Christians, we are called to forgive. That’s part of the grace we have received, forgiveness for our sins, and part of the radical, amazing grace and love we have to offer the world. Henri Nouwen describes forgiveness as “love practiced among people who love poorly;” and this is the process he describes.

I have often said “I forgive you,” but even as I said these words my heart remained angry or resentful. I still wanted to hear the story that tells me that I was right after all; I still wanted to hear apologies and excuses; I still wanted the satisfaction of receiving some praise in return—if only the praise for being so forgiving!

But God’s forgiveness is unconditional; it comes from a heart that does not demand anything for itself, a heart that is completely empty of self seeking. It is this divine forgiveness that I have to practice in my daily life. It calls me to keep stepping over all my arguments that say forgiveness is unwise, unhealthy, and impractical. It challenges me to step over all my needs for gratitude and compliments. Finally, it demands of me that I step over the wounded part of my heart that feels hurt and wronged and that wants to stay in control and put a few conditions between me and the one whom I am asked to forgive.[3]

Now take a look at the Epistle reading, Paul writing to the church at Rome (chapter 12). The whole passage has a lot of challenging words for us, but did you see how it ends?

19 Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord."
20 To the contrary, "if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head."
21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

There’s a lot to think about, isn’t there, but note that it is God’s responsibility to avenge wrongs. “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” When we forgive, we trust God to do justice and mercy as he sees fit. When we forgive, we let go of our own rights, our desire to get even, and leave the outcome to God.

Like I said, forgiveness is hard, and it’s unnatural. We want vengeance, we want justice, and it’s hard to walk away from that. But as Christians, we are commanded to forgive, as forgiven children of a forgiving Father. Forgiveness is the key that ends the cycle of blame and pain. It breaks the chains of harm and hurt. When we forgive, we are changing the whole pattern. When we forgive, we are saying “enough is enough!” When we forgive, the other party is freed from guilt. When we forgive, the wrong loses its power, and healing and wholeness result. Forgiveness has the unworldly, supernatural power to transform people. Even if your offer of forgiveness isn’t immediately accepted, you are set free. You are transformed. And because forgiveness is so radical, so unnatural, so countercultural, the world notices.

On Monday morning, October 2, 2006, a gunman entered a one-room Amish school in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania. In front of twenty-five horrified pupils, thirty-two-year-old Charles Roberts ordered the boys and the teacher to leave. After tying the legs of the ten remaining girls, Roberts prepared to shoot them execution [style] with an automatic rifle and four hundred rounds of ammunition that he brought for the task. The oldest hostage, a thirteen-year-old, begged Roberts to "shoot me first and let the little ones go." Refusing her offer, he opened fire on all of them, killing five and leaving the others critically wounded. He then shot himself as police stormed the building. His motivation? "I'm angry at God for taking my little daughter," he told the children before the massacre.

The story captured the attention of broadcast and print media in the United States and around the world. By Tuesday morning some fifty television crews had clogged the small village of Nickel Mines, staying for five days until the killer and the killed were buried. The blood was barely dry on the schoolhouse floor when Amish parents brought words of forgiveness to the family of the one who had slain their children.

The outside world was incredulous that such forgiveness could be offered so quickly for such a heinous crime. Of the hundreds of media queries that the authors received about the shooting, questions about forgiveness rose to the top. Forgiveness, in fact, eclipsed the tragic story, trumping the violence and arresting the world's attention.

Within a week of the murders, Amish forgiveness was a central theme in more than 2,400 news stories around the world. The Washington Post, The New York Times, USA Today, Newsweek, NBC Nightly News, CBS Morning News, Larry King Live, Fox News, Oprah, and dozens of other media outlets heralded the forgiving Amish. From the Khaleej Times (United Arab Emirates) to Australian television, international media were opining on Amish forgiveness. Three weeks after the shooting, "Amish forgiveness" had appeared in 2,900 news stories worldwide and on 534,000 web sites. [4]
Radical, unnatural forgiveness gets the world’s attention. It has the power to transform the world, as well as our homes and communities. Who do you need to forgive? And because the church is corporate—whenever 2 or 3 are gathered—who do we need to forgive?

[1] http://www.sundayschoollessons.com/keys.htm
[2] http://www.lcms.org/ca/www/cyclopedia/02/display.asp?t1=K&word=KEYS.OFFICEOFTHE
[3] quoted in Philip Yancey’s What’s So Amazing About Grace, Harper Collins, p. 92.
[4] http://www.josseybass.com/WileyCDA/WileyTitle/productCd-0787997617.html

Year A, Proper 17 Aug.31, 2008 McLeansboro

2008-09-05T07:44:00.000-07:00

As we heard last week, being one of Jesus’ disciples on the ground with him was not an easy thing. You never knew what he was going to say or do next. From easy questions, to hard ones, he kept his disciples on their toes!! Of course, they were delighted to be in his company, this great teacher and healer, and Peter had just said what they were all thinking, but were afraid to say out loud. “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” And Jesus confirmed this!! He was the Messiah, the hope of Israel. Somehow, maybe soon, he was going to get rid of the foreign oppressive government. He would be the king of Israel, the king like David. Surely the revolution was about to begin!! Or at the very least God was going to do something spectacular. The Day of the Lord was near. Israel would once again be great. And the disciples would be right there in the middle of it all. And Peter, Peter was thinking about what Jesus had said: You are rock, and on this rock I will build my church. Wow!! Pretty heady stuff for a Galilean fisherman.

From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. I’m sure Jesus was reluctant to tell his followers what was going to happen, but after Peter’s confession he felt he could speak freely, and he could explain to the disciples what was ahead. This is his first prediction of what was to come, his impending death at the hand of the officials in Jerusalem. It was also the first clear prediction of his resurrection, but I don’t think the disciples, I don’t think Peter, heard that part.

Peter, never one to think before speaking, blurted out, “God forbid!!” That can’t be the way it is. What in the world was Jesus thinking? What about the new Israel, our hopes and dreams for liberation? What about God’s promises? What about the prophecies? No way!! It can’t be like that, and I won’t let it. Surely we can avoid Jerusalem. It’s a big world, isn’t it? You don’t have to go, we will protect you. You are the Messiah, you said so yourself, and we will keep you safe from harm. Just don’t go to Jerusalem. We want a triumphant Messiah, not a suffering servant!! We want the Son of the Living God, not a dead Messiah! That can’t be right, that can’t be the plan! This must never happen to you!!

This must have been a strong, attractive temptation for Jesus, and his response is harsh: “Get behind me Satan!! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Peter in an instant went from right to wrong, from hero to goat, from rock to stumbling block. As the tempter’s voice now, Peter is fully human, looking at things from a human perspective.

He may have gotten carried away with his own significance in understanding Jesus’ identity and mission, which made him vulnerable to Satan’s temptation. He undoubtedly thinks he is protecting Jesus. But as one commentator notes, “Jesus recognizes here His old enemy in a new and even more dangerous form. For none are more formidable instruments of temptation than well-meaning friends, who care more for our comfort than for our character.”[1]
Friends also care about their own comfort, their own expectations and hopes and dreams. They can’t see the big picture. They can’t see what must happen for God’s plans to be accomplished, for the grace and glory that is to come.

Jesus then addresses all of his disciples. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” More hard sayings!! In the first century, the cross symbolized crucifixion, a feared and repulsive form of execution, and it was a horribly painful and slow way to die. The Jews viewed crucifixion as a terrible, shameful way to die. It must have been shocking to the disciples to hear that the cross is an image of discipleship!! What??!! If you want to be my disciples, you must be willing to die with me, you must be willing to risk your neck for me, you must follow me to the cross, to the death

For Jesus, the road to the cross was the road of obedience to the Father. It is the central purpose for his life, the reason for which the Son of the Living God took on human flesh. For those who would follow Jesus, the cross is likewise a metaphor for obedience, for surrendering and dying to their own wills, and yielding to the Father’s will.

. “For those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Those who hang on to their own life and their own desires and reject God’s plans for their life will lose that which they are trying to protect. Disciples are those who will risk their lives, surrender their own wills and accept God’s will, and the result is life eternal, life in the kingdom of heaven.

“For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?” All the riches, pleasures, material goods, worldly powers, are temporal at best, and will not do anyone any good if they sacrifice their relationship with God in order to pursue theses things. True riches, true wealth, are found in the kingdom of heaven, in following Jesus to the cross. The condition of our souls is far more important than the condition of our pocketbooks. Paul understood that when he said in Philippians (chapter 3):

7 Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. 8 More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith.

Jesus continues, “for the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done.” When the Son of Man comes in glory, there will be an accounting of what each person has done, whether or not they have responded to Jesus. Judgment is coming, and the disciples—and we—will be held accountable.
This whole account seems far removed from our reality, doesn’t it. After all, we can’t follow Jesus to the cross? For most of us, following Jesus doesn’t involve the loss of life. We aren’t likely to be crucified. And yet, the cross is still central to our lives. A symbol of shame and cruelty has become a symbol of beauty, love, and worship. The cross is the center of Christian architecture. And it must be central in our minds as we follow Jesus. The cross represents self-denial, sacrifice, and service, all of which are part and parcel of being a Christian. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Harold Ockenga, an evangelical leader and author of the 20th century, says this:

The surrender of self to this principle is the greatest obstacle to our sanctification, our spiritual attainment and love, our exercise of power and our exhibition of holiness. Self does not want us to surrender. We believers pamper self, are proud of self, pity self, and seek self’s interest, which is the exact opposite of such service. Yet contemporary life demands redemptive living, Unless such self-denial are exhibited in the field of missions, evangelism, social service humanitarianism, the Christian testimony will be invalidated.[2]

Our pattern and guide in this Christian life is Jesus himself, Jesus who said “Follow me.” He led by teaching, ministering, healing, and above all by serving, by laying down his life for his friends and for us. He is our example. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was killed because of his opposition to the Nazi regime in Germany in the last century, said that “when Christ calls a man he bids him come and die.” Bonhoeffer lived for Christ, and died for Christ, and we are called to be willing to do the same, to identify ourselves with Christ and his cross. We are to die to self, to die to self will, self interest. We are called to lose our lives in Christ, in our identification with Jesus. In truth, at our baptisms we died with Christ, and now we are dead to self, to sin, and alive to Christ. We now live in Christ, our lives our hidden with Christ, and we spend our lives denying ourselves and growing into this “in Christ” life, this kingdom life. “Come and die.”

[1] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. Zondervan, 571.
[2] Ockenga, Harold J. Power though Pentecost. Eerdman’s, 1959, p.119-20.

Year A Proper 16; Aug. 24,2008

2008-08-25T13:34:00.000-07:00

At St. James McLeansboro

I don’t know about you, but I think it would have been a pretty difficult thing to be one of Jesus’ 12 disciples, his inner circle. It would have been awesome, yes, to walk with Jesus and to witness all that he did, but it would have been difficult, because you never knew what he was thinking, what he would be doing next. Like Paul said in today’s epistle, “How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways. Who has known the mind of the Lord?” While the disciples were privy to a lot of teaching and fellowship with Jesus, they probably couldn’t begin to fathom his mind. I’m sure they knew he was a great teacher, a healer, and they hoped that he was the Promised One . . but they didn’t really know.
As an example, right before today’s gospel reading, Jesus had a confrontation with the Sadducees and Pharisees who came to test him, asking him for a sign from heaven, to prove who he was. And Jesus replied that they could read the skies and tell the weather, but they couldn’t read the signs of the times, they couldn’t see who Jesus was, or what was his mission. Jesus said that the only sign they would see was the sign of Jonah. What about Jonah? He spent three days in the belly of a whale, just as Jesus would spend three days in the belly of the earth. And then Jesus left the Sadducees and Pharisees and their tests and entrapments, and they and the disciples were probably scratching their heads. The disciples went with Jesus in the boat, and when they arrived at their destination, Matthew tells us that the disciples had forgotten to bring bread. And Jesus said, “beware of the yeast of the Sadducees and the Pharisees,” and they thought they were in trouble for forgetting the bread. See what I mean? It wasn’t easy being his disciple. Jesus responds, You of little faith. Don’t you know that it doesn’t matter that you didn’t bring bread? Don’t you remember how I fed the 5000 with 5 loaves, and then fed 4000 with 7 loaves? Can I not supply us with bread? But I wasn’t even talking about bread; I was talking about the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees. And then they understood—duh!!—that he wasn’t talking about bread, but about the teaching of the Pharisees and the Sadducees. The disciples had to be intellectually challenged, most of the time. Jesus was always at least a step or two above and beyond their understanding, and he could come up with some pretty difficult ideas and hard questions.
Jesus and his disciples then traveled to the area of Caesarea Phillippi, named for Philip the Tetrarch, one of Herod’s sons, which was in a primarily Gentile area northeast of Galilee. In the 1st century, this was an important Greco-Roman district, but had also been a center for pagan worship to Baal, and then to the Greek god Pan, and then to Caesar.

And when they got there, Jesus asked them, “Who do they say the Son of Man is?” Now this is an easy question. All they have to do is regurgitate what they have heard. Some said he was John the Baptist brought back from the dead, not a new idea. Even Herod had said that. Others said he was the prophet Elijah who was to be the forerunner of the messiah and still others said he was the suffering prophet Jeremiah, or one of the other prophets. You can see the disciples at ease, tossing ideas around like a ball.

But then he asks another question. But YOU, Who do YOU say that I am? I imagine there was a great silence, that they were somehow afraid to state what they thought, what they hoped. There was probably a lot of looking at each other, looking at their feet, looking at the sky . . . looking anyplace but towards Jesus. And finally Peter—Peter who is the outspoken leader of the 12, Peter who rarely thinks before he speaks, Peter who isn’t afraid to get out of the boat, impetuous, brash, open, transparent Peter, Peter who takes risks, stumbles, falls, and gets up again, Peter who is far braver and far more willing to ask questions and risk failure than I am, Peter says “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Peter finally gets it right! Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, the anointed one, but he is much, much more. This is the first time that any person voices their hopes, that Jesus is the Messiah, the anointed one, in the tradition of the great kings of Israel, anointed for leadership.

“Peter further expresses Jesus’ identity as ‘the son of the living God,’ an expression that has special significance in the area of Caesarea Philippi with its plethora of ancient Baal, Pan, and Caesar worship. Jesus is the Son of the God who is living, not like those mythical, superstitious figures etched in stone. Even more significantly . . . Jesus is uniquely Gods Son.”[1] As announced at his conception, at his baptism, at his temptations, and as the evil spirits stated when they were confronted by Jesus, Jesus has a special relationship with God the Father, with HIS Father. He is different than any other Messiah figure. He is Messiah, and the Son of God.

Peter probably didn’t fully understand what he was saying, but he is growing. And Jesus commends him. “Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah, for God has revealed this to you.” Peter was blessed by God when he chose him to know this, to say this. Jesus continues: “From now on you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.” Basically, Jesus is saying, You are rock, and on this rock I will build my church. Peter will be a key figure in the church, the new community of believers. He is a natural leader who did play a foundational role in the early church, as the book of Acts tells us.

This is also the first time that the word “church’ is used, from ecclesia which means a community or assembly. His disciples will be his church, a fellowship of those who believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God, and who risk their lives for their faith. This church, this fellowship will endure. “I will build my church and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” “The powers of death and damnation are not as strong as the powers of God nor will those evil powers win the battle. The powers of death and evil are all around us, but these evil powers are not stronger than the church and its power of God within. Evil will lose out!!!”[2] And, through the power of God, the church, the body of Christ, will win!

Jesus then says that “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Jesus talked more about the kingdom of heaven than any other subject, and when he began his mission he said, repent for the kingdom of heaven is near (Matt 3:2), and in the past months we have heard many parables referring to the kingdom of heaven as a pearl, a treasure, a grain of mustard, yeast, and even a farmer’s field. The kingdom of heaven is where Christ rules eternally. The kingdom of heaven is already and not yet, the once and future realm where Christ is king. While the Scribes and Pharisees work to lock people out of the kingdom of heaven, Peter and the church have the keys to let people in. The Scribes and the Pharisees had the authority for binding and loosing, which is to say what is permitted or forbidden. The church with Peter as its first leader is to open the door to the kingdom. “Through Peter’s preaching of the gospel and the preaching of others who follow him, sins are forgiven and entrance gained to the kingdom.”[3] Peter has the keys to the kingdom, and will open the doors to Jews, Samaritans, and Gentiles. “People who receive the gospel are loosed from their sins so that they can enter the open door to the kingdom. People who reject the gospel message are bound in their sins, which will prevent them from entering the kingdom.”[4]

And the gospel reading ends with Jesus telling the disciples to be quiet about his identity, probably so his mission isn’t compromised due to misunderstanding. The crowds can be rather unruly, you know.

But Peter, Peter got it right for a change. You are the Christ the Son of the living God. Right for a moment, right this time, but next week it’s a different story.

So what is important for us? Perhaps the real key, the key to the kingdom, is linked to Jesus’ identity. There are lots of opinions on who Jesus is these days. Is he a great teacher, a prophet, a moral example? Is he one path among many paths? One truth among many truths? Is he relevant? Who is Jesus? Who do you say that I am? First of all, human opinion is not adequate. To understand Jesus is to be guided by the revelation of the Father in the teachings of the New Testament. The gospels clearly proclaim the good news of Jesus’ identity and his mission. Jesus is not just a way, he is The Way. Jesus is not just true for me, but he is The Truth. We are called to accept that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God—which is in fact more than we can comprehend on our own. Our understanding must be guided by God’s revelation as we open our hearts and minds to God and study his Word. But you, who do you say that I am?

[1] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. Zondervan, p. 559.
[2] http://www.sermonsfromseattle.com/series_a_the_keys_of_the_kingdomGA.htm
[3] Wilkins, 567.
[4] Ibid, 568.

Year A Proper 15, St. Mark's & St. James

2008-08-20T15:06:00.000-07:00

I don’t usually title my sermons, but if I did, this one might be called “Who are those guys?” When I read the lessons for this week, what got my attention is that they are all about the “other.” Isaiah talks about the foreigners, the psalm talks about the nations, in Romans Paul talks about the Gentiles, and in our Gospel, Jesus has a curious exchange with a Canaanite woman. Who are those guys?
Those guys are basically anyone who wasn’t a Hebrew, anyone who wasn’t an Israelite, anyone who wasn’t a Jew. And I thought it might be interesting to review the Story of Salvation, God’s work in the world, in relation to the others, those who were not the Chosen people, those who are us. For the sake of simplicity, I will mostly call them The Nations. There’s the Israelites, and then there’s everyone else. The Nations.
In order to consider God’s work in the world, the story of salvation, of God redeeming his people, all in twelve minutes or less, we need to start at the beginning. The very beginning. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth, and all that is therein, and he pronounced it all to be Good. And the very pinnacle, the epitome of his creation was humankind, made in the very image of God. God made the whole universe for these people, and they were created for relationship: relationship to God as his highest creation and the focus of his purpose, and relationships with each other. Made in God’s image, which is trinity, which is relationship, humankind was created for relationship. And it was very good. In Eden, Adam and Eve enjoyed a perfect relationship with God and with each other. But God created them with free will. He wanted people to love him freely, to respond to him freely, but that also meant that they were free to rebel, free to choose something else. Wanting to be like gods, Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden tree. “The fall was a giant leap upward that went horribly wrong because it could not succeed. Dissatisfied with their humanness, the couple reached for godhood . . . [The result was] a condition that was less than human because it no longer consists primarily in a relationship with God that is characterized by love and trust.” [1] Sin and death entered the world, and increased over the next few generations until Noah, when God wiped out all but a small remnant. And still sin increased.
A few generations later, God put his plan into action. He chose one man: Abraham. Why Abraham? I think it’s mostly because he said yes. He was far from perfect, but for the most part, at important times, he trusted in God and was obedient to God’s direction. The real answer must be simply God’s grace.
To Abraham he promised many descendents, who would possess the Promised Land, and God would be their God. And through Abraham and his descendents, the entire world—the nations—would be blessed. God’s chosen people, his family, were to be a light and an example, a channel of blessing, to The Nations. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were chosen by God’s grace and it is through them and their descendents that God’s faithfulness will be revealed. Israel is God’s chosen nation, a people for himself.
Generations and centuries go by, and the Hebrew people are slaves in Egypt. God intervenes on their behalf through Moses, and they are delivered from their oppressors and they meet God at Mt. Sinai. “God has a job for them to do. They are to be a nation and kingdom that function like priests. Their task is to mediate God’s blessing to the nations and to act as a model people attracting all peoples to God (Ex. 19:3-6). This is the calling that will shape Israel from this point on: they are to be a showcase people and [a] model before the nations that embod[ies] the beauty of God’s original design for human life.”[2] And the people commit to being God’s faithful people. God goes with them, lives with them. They are his people and he is their God. And through this priestly people, all the Nations of the earth will be blessed. Through its own priests, Israel was to “learn how it as a nation could approach God through a priestly ministry. Then it would learn that the blessings of the covenant would one day overflow through them into the whole world.”[3]
But Israel failed, early on. Even while Moses was with God on the mountain, the people rebelled and were unfaithful and grumbling. They are sentenced to wander in the desert, and continue in their rebellion. Moses frequently intercedes with God on their behalf. But Israel seems incapable of keeping their side of the covenant. Israel’s unfaithfulness is matched only by God’s faithfulness. Finally, under new leadership, they enter the Promised Land, and it is good. God’s promise is fulfilled. And certain gentiles come to share with Israel in God’s promises. Through various ways and means, converts come into Israel. “There is no other revealed way of salvation than to become an Israelite;”[4] so Gentiles come in and share in God’s blessings.
God’s plan was for his people to live under his rule, but Israel cried out for a king, so they can be like The Nations. And God allows that. Israel’s kings were to live according to God’s covenant, to fear God and keep his commandments, and to be humble. Unfortunately that didn’t work out so well, either. While the Israelites desire safety and security, “they forget that God has committed himself in covenant to give them those things in a way that no pagan ruler could.”[5] The end up with Saul, David, Solomon, and the rest. Solomon built the temple in Jerusalem; and when the ark of the covenant is brought in, the glory of the Lord fills the house. God lives there, in the Temple. “Through this house and its ministry the covenant relationship is maintained. Even the promise to the Gentiles is focused here, for it is at the temple that foreigners can find acceptance with God. The temple is a witness to all the nations that God dwells in Israel . . . [and] a foreigner can be joined to the people of God only by coming to the temple, for it is here that God chooses to deal with those who seek him.”[6]
But things go downhill under a succession of ungodly, unfaithful rulers. Prophets warn the people about the way things were going, but it all continued to decline. God, who rules the entire universe, used the nations to chastise his rebellious people. The Kingdom of Israel divided and fell, its people scattered. All was not well. Finally a faithful remnant is able to return to Jerusalem, and rebuild the city and temple, only a dim shadow of its former glory. Through the prophets we come to understand that God’s grace alone will bring salvation to his people, people who fail, people who really deserve nothing. And though the prophets God “unfolds to them a way of salvation that not only applies to them, but that will one day in its fullness have significance for all the nations.”[7] Through a descendent of David, though a suffering servant of the Lord, salvation will come. He will bring salvation to Israel and light to the nations. And . . . eventually . . . Jesus comes into the world. Jesus, the seed of Abraham, the Son of David, through whom all nations will finally be blessed. The kingdom of God is at hand. It’s not what the Jews expected, and even Jesus himself saw his mission as being to the Jews. He ministered to Gentiles, including the Canaanite woman in today’s gospel, only at their initiative. But he also told his disciples to go into all the world, all the nations being witnesses to Jesus, bringing light to the nations. The nations will be gathered to Christ as the Gospel is preached in all the world, to all the nations. Go and make disciples of all nations.
The Apostle Paul did just that. His life mission was to take the gospel to all the nations, and he insisted “that the Gentiles were to be accepted into the community of believers apart from Jewish legal observance . . . solely on the basis of ‘faith in Christ’”[8]The barriers between Israelite and foreigner, between Jew and Gentile, were broken. Paul wrestled with the fact that the Jews in great part rejected Jesus, and concluded that the purpose of the calling of the Gentiles was to make the Jews jealous, and that salvation was still to come for the Jews.
At the end of the New Testament era, we find that the people of God include both Jews and gentiles, and the Church is the new Israel. The church is to be a light to the world. “Those guys” are us. That’s our calling, that’s our place in salvation history. To be a light to the world, to reveal God to the world, mediate God’s blessing to the world. The gospel is being preached among every people, tribe, language, and nation. And when Jesus comes again, he will rule all the nations. “All distinctions of gender, ethnicity or social class will be swallowed up in believers’ adoring relationship with God in Jesus Christ and their joint praise of the glory of their Lord and Saviour.”[9] Amen. Come Lord Jesus.

[1] Goldsworthy, Graeme. According to Plan The Unfolding Revelation of God in the Bible. IVP, 1991, p. 105.
[2] Bartholomew, Craig, & Michael Goheen. “The Story-Line of the Bible.” Retrieved 13 August, 2008.
[3] Goldsworthy, 141.
[4] Ibid, 153.
[5] Ibid, 165.
[6] Ibid, 169.
[7] Ibid, 181.
[8] Kostenberger, A.J. “The Nations.” New Dictionary of Biblical Theology,
[9] Ibid, 678.

Year A Proper 14, August 10

2008-08-11T08:17:00.000-07:00

Who is Jesus? What picture do you have of him? What are his characteristics, his attributes? It’s important that we have a good, clear picture of who he is, and usually we just have pieces, fragments, little bits of who he is. We have our favorite images, our Sunday school pictures, but these don’t convey the whole person, do they? Really, it’s pretty hard to get a good idea of who he is without some study, and even still we only get fragments.

Churches, denominations, other organizations often focus on certain characteristics, and exclude other ideas that aren’t as comfortable, or that challenge their theology or mission, not getting a comprehensive picture. “They may focus on Jesus as Savior, shepherd, teacher, Lord, friend, revolutionary leader, or provider. . . . [But] if Jesus is only a friend to us, perhaps we do not understand that he is also the powerful Lord of the universe, who can supply us with the power necessary to accomplish whatever God calls us to in life. If Jesus is only our gentle shepherd, perhaps we do not recognize him as the religious revolutionary who despised religious hypocrisy.”[1] I could go on and on, because Jesus is all of these things, and we need to understand that. In order to understand his significance for us, for our lives, we need to have a well rounded understanding of who he is and what he can and has accomplished for us, and in us. And when we understand more accurately who he is, we will, we must, worship him as the disciples did. “Those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying’ Truly you are the Son of God.”

But that’s the end of the story, so lets back up to the beginning. Jesus and his disciples have had a long day of teaching and healing, and they have fed 5000 men, not counting women and children. Jesus wants to go off by himself to pray, to recharge and reconnect with the Father. Of course, he is always in contact with the Father, but even Jesus needs time alone with God to reflect and pray. He tells the disciples to get in the boat and go on ahead, and he dismisses the crowds for the night. Jesus is finally alone, and spends time in prayer with the Father into the night.
Meanwhile, the disciples are out on the Sea of Galilee, and a storm has come up. The boat is being battered by the waves and the wind. The disciples are struggling and straining. To the first century people, water and storms represent chaos, instability, and terror. And while some of the disciples were seasoned fishermen, used to the action of waves and water, this was a powerful and dangerous storm, and they were afraid. Then they saw a figure walking towards them on the water and were even more terrified. They thought it was a ghost.

Earlier this week we celebrated the Feast of the Transfiguration, and I heard Father Swan preach on Tuesday. He suggested that Jesus often went alone to pray on a mountain, but at the transfiguration he took his inner circle of disciples with him: Peter, James and John. Usually he prayed alone, but on this occasion there were witnesses to his prayer, and they saw him clothed in brilliant light—and perhaps this always happened when he prayed, when he got “recharged” through time with the Father. And I thought that maybe the disciples in the boat were afraid of the figure approaching, and thought it was a ghost, because he was still clothed with God’s glory, glowing like Moses’ face whenever he met with the Lord on Mount Sinai. Have you ever seen or met someone who seemed to glow with God’s light, with holiness? I think it still happens.

But back to the story. The disciples thought Jesus was a ghost, and were terrified. And Jesus calls out, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Take courage because I am. This may allude to the voice of the Lord coming from the burning bush. Moses asked who the voice came from, and God answered, I am that I am. I am, so don’t be afraid. I am who has power over all creation, over wind and storms and seas. And Peter—don’t you love Peter?—he calls out and says, Lord, if it is you, tell me to come to you. The idea is that if the figure really is Jesus, Peter knows he doesn’t need to be afraid, and it focuses Peter’s faith on Jesus, helping him to put aside his fear, to call out and to know that Jesus has the power and ability to bid him to come.

And Jesus says, come. Peter climbed over the side of the boat, and found that he could walk on the surface of the sea!! This is truly a miracle, walking toward Jesus on the top of the water. But then he thinks about what he is doing. Men can’t walk on water, the seas and winds are still stormy. Even for a fisherman, water is chaos. He noticed and became aware of the wind and thus took his eyes off of Jesus. When he focuses on the wind instead of on Jesus he begins to sink, and cries out, Lord save me! Even while he was sinking, Peter recognized that “the same Lord who could walk on water himself and then enable Peter to walk on the water is more than able to save him from sinking.”[2] And immediately Jesus reached out and rescued him, and said to him, “you of little faith, why did you doubt?” I don’t think Peter is being reprimanded or chastised. I don’t think Jesus was accusing him, but the gentle and assuring emphasis is on Jesus himself. Why did you doubt me? Why did you take your eyes off of me? Jesus is challenging Peter to keep his eyes on Jesus, to stay focused on who He is. Faith is consistently trusting in Jesus, keeping our eyes and our focus on him, no matter what storms are raging around us.

Jesus and Peter get into the boat and the winds die down. The wind that had caused Peter to take his eyes off of Jesus is under Jesus’ control. The disciples are awed and overwhelmed by all that has just happened, and they worship Jesus. In Scripture, worship is reserved for God alone. “The disciples are gripped with the reality that Jesus . . . is the Son of God, and so they worship him.” This is also the first time that they use the title, Son of God, for Jesus. Their understanding of who he is, is growing. They are beginning to recognize that Jesus, the compassionate teacher and healer, is also God’s Son, uniquely related to the Father, with authority over the forces of creation. And they worship him.

Who is Jesus? In his healing ministry, in the feeding of the 5000 that we read last week, he is compassionate. He is a provider—bringing healing, food, and “the security of his presence to his needy disciples . . . Ultimately he has authority over all of creation, which he demonstrates in the calming of the sea. . . All of these factors point strongly to his identity, and the narrative is capped off with the disciples worshipping him as they proclaim his identity: ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’”[3]

Like Peter, we too have our fears and our doubts. We take our eyes off of Jesus. We say, ”I believe, help my unbelief.“ We have faith, and we doubt, and that’s okay. Our doubts challenge our faith, and our fears cause us to reach out to Jesus when we are sinking. Barbara Brown Taylor writes that

Our fears and doubts may paralyze us, but they are also what make us cry out for his saving touch, so how can they be all bad? If we never sank—if we could walk on water just fine by ourselves—we would not need a savior. . . .Our doubts, fearsome as they are, remind us who we are, and whose we are, and whom we need in our lives to save our lives. When we sink, as Peter does, as we all do, Our Lord reaches out and catches us, responding first with grace, and then with judgment—‘why did you doubt?’—but never with rejection.[4]

As we walk and sink, as we have faith and doubt, as we are rescued by Jesus, we begin to see and comprehend that Jesus is truly the son of God, God in flesh, God who is able to save and worthy of worship and honor and glory. In the storms of our lives, we perceive that Jesus is God and we worship him. Truly, you are the Son of God. Amen.

[1] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. Zondervan, p. 529.
[2] Ibid, 517.
[3] Ibid, 529.
[4] Taylor, Barbara B. The Seeds of Heaven: Sermons on the Gsopel of Matthew. Westminster John Knox Press, 2004, p.60.

Year A Proper 13, August 3, 2008

2008-08-07T09:44:00.000-07:00

The Rev. Dr. Tony Campolo, pastor and author, shared this story a couple of years ago. He said,

I have a friend who's a pastor of a church in Brooklyn, a run down, beat up area of the city. He got a telephone call one day from the local funeral director who said that he had a funeral that nobody wanted to take. None of the ministers in the area wanted anything to do with this funeral. The man had died of AIDS. My friend, Jim, took the funeral. I said, “What was it like?”He said, “When I got there, there were about 30 homosexual men. They never looked up at me. Their heads were down and they stared at the floor the whole time I spoke. After the funeral service was over we got into the waiting automobiles and went out to the cemetery. I stood on one side of the grave with the undertaker and the homosexual men stood on the other side. They were frozen in place like statues. They seemed to be motionless. Not a nerve or sinew moved as I read Scripture and prayed. We lowered the body into the grave and I pronounced the benediction. I turned to leave and then I realized that none of them were moving. I turned back and I asked, ‘Is there anything more I can do?'”One of the men said, “Yes. They always read the 23rd Psalm at these things and you didn't do that. Would you read the 23rd Psalm?”Jim said, “Certainly.” And he did.Another man spoke up and he said, “There is a passage in the 3rd chapter of John which says that the spirit of God goeth where it leadeth and you cannot tell on whom the spirit of God falls. Could you read that passage?” And he did. And then one of the men said, “Would you read to me and to all of us that passage that talks about the love of God, that nothing can separate us from the love of God?”And Jim said, “I turned to these homosexual men and I said quite simply this, ‘Neither height nor depth nor principalities nor powers nor things present nor things to come, neither life nor death, nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.'” Jim said nothing was more thrilling than to say to these men, who had been so ostracized and hurt by the church, that God still loved them and that nothing could separate them from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.[1]

Nothing, absolutely nothing can separate us from the love of God. Our Epistle reading is one of my very favorite passages in the Bible. For the sake of argument and emphasis, Paul starts out with a question: Who will separate us from the love of Christ? This is a rhetorical question. He’s not really expecting us to answer, and “he could have simply said, ‘No one can separate us from the love of Christ’ . . .But by asking he question “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ,’ he forces us to pause and consider the matter. Who, indeed? My persecutors? My unbelieving family members? Satan? We are involved; and therefore we ‘own’ Paul’s ultimate response, ‘No . . . we are more than conquerors.’”[2]
To make sure we get it, that we hear what he’s saying, Paul goes on to list some specific threats—most of which he has experienced; hardship, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, or sword. One pastor added to the list:
Can cancer separate us from the love of God? Liver cancer? Breast cancer? Prostate cancer? Bone cancer? Lung cancer? Can these separate us from the love of God? It is a rhetorical question. You know the answer. Of course not. The word, “no,” echoes through history. Can the bombings of the Twin Towers separate us from God, suicide bombings, human beings wired as bombs? Can these separate us from the love of God? The answer is obvious. No. NO. NO. The answer rings through the corridors of history. Can leukemia? Heart attacks? Car accidents? Starvation? Wars? AIDS? Depression? Suicide? Can any of these evil things separate us from the love of God? Of course not, we all answer to ourselves.[3]
None of these can separate us from Christ’s love. “They may separate us from wealth and health, from family and friends, from comfort and ease. But they can have absolutely no effect upon the unchangeable love of God.”[4]
Paul understands that we feel like we are suffering, and in fact we do suffer. Our trials feel like injury and torture, we sometimes feel like we are being killed all day long, like sheep headed for the slaughterhouse. But this suffering doesn’t change the fact of God’s love for us; in fact these trials provide opportunities for God’s love to be made known. So in all these things we can be more than conquerors through him who loved us. We can live victoriously. We can be conquerors because of Christ, whose love never fails. In fact, we overwhelmingly conquer. We are more than conquerors. That’s the way God works, isn’t it. That’s the way of the cross. What looks to the world like defeat is in fact victory. It’s not about coping, not about surviving, but about overwhelmingly conquering.
“It is not enough to muddle through life merely enduring our adversity. God does not promise to take us out of our afflictions, but He does promise that we will emerge from them victorious. We will be victorious in the sense that we will grow in our faith, hope and love. We will conquer in that we will become more like Christ due to our sufferings. We will conquer in that God’s purposes will be achieved through us and others will see the grace of God at work in our lives.”[5]
Paul continues, saying that “I am persuaded.” Paul himself is absolutely convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Nothing in experience, nothing in invisible powers, good or evil, nothing in time or space, nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God. “Whether we are dead or alive, whether they are things we now face or things we will face in the future, whether they are above us or below us,”[6] nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. God’s love is made known to us only in and through Jesus. In Jesus we have the promise of God’s love; he is the expression of God’s love. He is God’s love. Remember John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him will have eternal life.” God’s love for us is made known in Christ, and the cross is the measure of God’s love. To follow Jesus Christ is to be confident in God love; but to reject Jesus and his teachings will ultimately separate us from the love of God. God loves us, always, yes, but when we reject Jesus, we are rejecting God’s love. When we reject Jesus, we separate ourselves from God’s love. But, as Christians, we have the right, even the obligation, to be absolutely confident of God’s love for us, made known to us in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.
I know we sometimes let things get in the way of God’s love for us, or at least we put things between ourselves and God’s love. What is it that gets in the way of God’s love for you? Where do you lose sight of the truth of God’s love for you? We need to be reminded, day after day, that nothing, absolutely nothing in all the world, all of creation, nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.
Finally, It is here that we “learn the wonder and glory of God’s love in Christ. It is unchangeable and infinite; it is constant and sufficient; it is eternal and triumphant. God loves us no matter what is happening to us. His love is as dependable as the North Star—indeed, far more dependable, as dependable as the eternal Sun of Righteousness, the same yesterday, today, and forever!”[7] Alleluia! Amen!

[1] http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/campolo_5001.htm
[2] Moo, Douglas J. The NIV Application Commentary: Romans, Zondervan, 2000, p285.
[3] http://www.sermonsfromseattle.com/romans_christsspiritandeternalbonding.htm
[4] Allen, Clifton J. The Gospel According to Paul: A Study of the Letter to the Romans. Convention Press, 1956, p. 98.
[5] http://www.bible.org/page.php?page_id=2310
[6] Moo, 284.
[7] Allen, 99.

Year A Proper 12

2008-08-07T09:43:00.000-07:00

Have any of you seen the recent Indiana Jones movie with Harrison Ford: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull? How about any of the Indiana Jones movies? Still, my favorite is the first one: Raiders of the Lost Ark. Or how about the National Treasure moves with Nicholas Cage. While they are fun and over-the-top adventures, they share a theme of finding a great treasure—and we are fascinated. Wouldn’t you love to find a real treasure map?
How about that t.v. series: Antiques Roadshow. People bring their family heirlooms and found treasures to the experts to find out their worth, their value. While some are disappointed to find out that their treasures have little value, others have remarkably rare and valuable things, and we can share in their joy and surprise.
Larry and I used to sell a lot of stuff on ebay. There was a time when Larry had some health problems, and this was something he could do. And then when my company in Centralia closed their doors, I sold stuff while finishing my bachelors degree and before seminary. So we used to go treasure hunting: to rummage sales, auctions, flea markets, and thrift shops. We learned a lot as we went along, learned from our mistakes. There were things that we thought were valuable, but they really weren’t.
Some things we had pretty good idea regarding the value, other things were great surprises:
Larry’s Children’s book
St. Barbar.V.M. relic
We had some fun treasure hunting, and it was exciting at times to see what things sold for. I still get the urge to stop at all yard sales and look for treasures!
In today’s gospel, we heard that the kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed. The kingdom of heaven is like yeast. The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field. The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. The kingdom of heaven is like a dragnet. We’ve been hearing about the kingdom of heaven for the last few weeks. The kingdom of heaven is like seeds sown all over the ground. It’s like a man who sowed good seed in his field. These are all metaphors, designed to capture people’s attention. It’s impossible even for Jesus to explain exactly what the kingdom of heaven is, and so he tells us what it is like. In today’s barrage of parables, what seems to be consistent is the smallness, the hiddenness of the kingdom of heaven.
In the parable of the mustard seed, we find that a great shrub grows from the tiniest of seeds, so small that it takes 400 or so to weigh one gram. It was the smallest known seed in Israel, but it produced a nice shrub, great for nesting birds. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed—“the proverbial smallness of the mustard seed as a metaphor that describes the kingdom of God would have shocked the crowd. Israel always believed that when God’s kingdom was established on earth it would be great; they were not prepared for an insignificant beginning.”[1] It sure wasn’t what they wanted, what they expected Just a little, insignificant seed.
The parable of the yeast likewise takes something small and ordinary—even perhaps despised because of the evil connotation of leaven, of yeast—and turns it into an example of the presence of the kingdom. Not only was leaven symbolic for evil, in the parable it was a woman who kneaded it into the dough—women’s work was so despised that this example really would have captured the attention of the listeners. “Jesus uses yeast to symbolize the positive, hidden permeation of the kingdom of heaven into this world. The Jews rightly understood that the arrival of the kingdom would mean the transformation of the order of things in this world. But Jesus’ arrival did not bring the expected immediate, external, dramatic change.”[2] The inconspicuous and even perhaps despised beginning of the kingdom was in direct contrast to what it would become. It does not come with power and might, but with the inner transformation of the hearts of individuals. In spite of small and even invisible beginnings, the kingdom of heaven will permeate the entire world and will ultimately have great results.
Then there is the man who finds treasure hidden in a field, who buries it again, goes and sells all that he has and buys the field. This treasure lays there unnoticed, hidden. The man isn’t necessarily even searching for it, but he happens to find it and sees its value. The emphasis here is not that he was perhaps a bit devious, but that he recognized the value of his find, and went and sold all that he had in order to obtain this treasure. “The emphasis here is on the supreme worth of the treasure that is unseen by others. It is worth far more than any sacrifice one might make to acquire it. . . . No sacrifice is too great to live in God’s will and experience a disciple relationship with Jesus as Master.”[3] Remember the story of the Rich Young Ruler? He went to Jesus asking about how he could enter the kingdom, how he could have eternal life. Jesus asked him if he had kept the commandments, and the man assured Jesus that he had kept them all. And Jesus told him then to go and sell everything he had and give the proceeds to the poor, and then he would have treasure in heaven. And the man went away sorrowful because he had many possessions. He wasn’t willing to give up his earthly treasures in order to obtain the kingdom of heaven (Matt 9:16ff). The value of the kingdom of heaven is worth far more than our earthly treasure, worth sacrificing in order to obtain it. But the moral of the story isn’t so much about sacrifice, but about the joyful surrender of obtaining the kingdom of heaven. Paul said, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him” (Phil 3:8-9a).
The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant who is deliberately searching and finds a pearl of great value and he went and sold everything he had in order to buy this valuable pearl. This man was diligently searching, and when he found the pearl he knew its value. “Moreover, as an expert, the merchant knows that even if he sells all that he has, the pearl he possesses surpasses all his former accumulated wealth.”[4] This story again emphasizes the utmost value of the kingdom of heaven. There is nothing more valuable in the whole world.
Finally, the kingdom of heaven is like a net, hidden beneath the surface of the sea, capturing all that is before it. It catches both good fish and bad, and at the end of the age, the good will be separated from the bad. On that last day, the day of judgment, the kingdom of heaven will be cast like a net over the whole world and no one will escape final judgment. All will be sorted out into good and bad, those who believe in Jesus and accept his message, and those who reject Jesus and his message. It’s up to Jesus and his angels to judge these people—we don’t know enough to be able to judge, to be able to sort the good from the bad. We can’t see people’s hearts.
As Christians, as disciples of Christ, we sometimes take for granted that which we have received. We are truly children of the kingdom of heaven, and that is the greatest treasure in the world, far greater than the crystal skull, the lost ark, or the national treasure. It is greater than the greatest find on Antique Roadshow. It is in fact the only treasure with eternal value.
The parable of the hidden treasure emphasizes that the kingdom has a value that far outweighs what anyone looking on an open field might have expected. The parable of the costly pearl emphasizes that the well-trained expert will discover, upon finding the reality of the kingdom, that nothing is comparable in worth. Whatever cost a person expends is nothing in comparison to the benefit of belonging to it. Salvation and the righteousness of the kingdom is a greater treasure than all that the world has to offer, and it is the source of greatest joy. . . .When we recognize fully the value of life in the presence of the Savior now and life eternal, all of the sacrifice we make cannot compare to the joy of experiencing its present reality.[5]
This is the treasure worth searching for. It is worth any price. It is worth investing all that we have, making a commitment that is total because this treasure is beyond price. This treasure is. . Priceless. Amen.
[1] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. Zondervan p. 483.
[2] Ibid, 483-4.
[3] Ibid, 487.
[4] Ibid, 488.
[5] Ibid, 505.

Year A Proper 11

2008-08-04T15:08:00.000-07:00

The kingdom of heaven is like a field, planted with good seed. The field is the world.
This parable introduces the idea of “realized eschatology.” The kingdom of heaven is already and not yet. The kingdom of heaven was inaugurated with the life and ministry of Jesus—the kingdom of heaven is at hand! It is here, it has arrived. And yet, we anticipate that it will only be complete when Jesus returns. It’s here, perhaps, in shadow form. We see glimpses, we know that Jesus brought the kingdom of heaven to earth, but all is not quite what it should be, and what it will be we will see at the end of the age. Jesus introduced “a new age, and the victory over the powers of evil has already been won, even though the struggle is still to be enacted in history. . . [Consequently] we must live with an openness to and anticipation of the future. . . . [There are] events that really will come to pass.”[1]

And so we have the parable of the wheat and the weeds. The kingdom of heaven is the field, where the evil one, Satan, has planted bad seed in with the good. The good seed is wheat, the bad seed is probably darnel, a weedy grass with poisonous seeds that looks just like wheat until harvest time, when it has a different “head” or “ear.” When the servants report what has happened, they are eager to try to uproot the weeds, but the master recognizes that if they pull out the bad plants, they will also be pulling up good ones, too. So he instructs them to let them both grow until the harvest, and then they will be able to tell the weeds from the wheat, and the weeds can be burned. “The kingdom of heaven has indeed come into this world, but its advance does not mean that the enemy will be completely vanquished during this age. That awaits the final judgment.”[2]

In his explanation to the disciples, Jesus describes himself as the sower, and the field as we know is the world. The kingdom if heaven is much more than Israel, or the Church, but expands to include the whole world. The good seed is the people of the kingdom, those who respond to Jesus and his teaching. The weeds belong to the evil one. They are those who reject Jesus and the gospel message. The enemy is, of course, the devil, “an enemy farmer attempting to disrupt the growth of good wheat.”[3] The harvest is the end of the age, the end times, “the judgment that will accompany the coming of the Son of Man to consummate the establishment of the kingdom.”[4] And finally, the harvesters are not the disciples, but angels who will help Jesus to establish his kingdom and bring judgment. They will collect the weeds, all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace. Then, Jesus’ “divine sovereignty will be visibly established over all creatures of this world.” And the righteous, those who are his disciples, “will experience the full manifestation of the kingdom’s glory and ‘will shine like the sun’. Jesus’ disciples are the light of the world during this age while they await its consummation . . ., but at that time they will shine with unhindered brilliance.”[5]

Let anyone with ears listen!

This parable makes it clear that although the kingdom of heaven has arrived, that doesn’t mean that evil ceases to exist—as we can see by our morning papers or evening news. Jesus’ disciples are being transformed, but evil and evil people survive. Those who are growing in the kingdom of heaven will see personal transformation, but we will not see the elimination of evil until the end of the age. Wheat and weeds, good and evil, coexist, and sometimes it’s hard for us to tell the difference. We don’t know, don’t see a person’s heart. We don’t know or can’t see what God is doing in them, or will be doing. We are not called to judge others, but to let Jesus and his angels sort it all out at the end of the age. Evil is a reality and will continue to be a part of this world, “but there looms on the horizon of history certain rescue for Jesus disciples and certain judgment for those who are aligned with the evil one.” That is our hope. God’s kingdom will come, his justice will be done, and the righteous will shine like the sun.

In our Epistle reading, Paul talks about this same hope. While living in this world Christians will experience evil and suffering. This suffering comes from the consequences of sin, or due to the sins of others, and in this world the innocent suffer along with the guilty. And some suffering comes from God’s disciplining us, being a loving father who chastises his children, meant for our own good. And we may suffer on account of Christ, as his disciples. But no matter the cause, this suffering doesn’t begin to compare with the glory that will be revealed to us. This glory already exists—the kingdom has already been inaugurated—but its true glory will be revealed to us in the last time. We will share in Christ’s glory for all of eternity. As one commentary says, “What steadying assurance this should give to those who suffer from the ravages of disease, to those who are victims of injustice and wickedness, to persecuted saints in many places, and to all Christians who have felt the hard blows of inescapable tragedy and cruel circumstance and crushing affliction.”[6]

Paul says that all of creation—plants, animals, rocks, mountains, rivers, all are longing for this glory to be revealed, for the kingdom to be consummated. “The entire created world has failed to attain its purpose. Because of human sin, it is not what God intended it to be.”[7] After the fall, God subjected all of creation with the expectation and hope of its ultimate liberation. Reflecting the supremacy of mankind in God’s created universe, the whole of the created universe felt the impact of the fall, and shares in the hope of redemption. On the last day all creation will be transformed, freed from evil and decay and death. When the children of God are finally restored, creation will also be restored because of Christ’s redemptive work, restoring humankind and even all of the created universe to God and his glorious purpose. In the meantime, creation groans in labor pains, suffering in anticipation of a joyous outcome.

And Christians also groan, as we yearn to be what God wants us to be, yearn for a better tomorrow. Again, there’s the idea of already and not yet. “We are God’s children already—justified, reconciled, and brought into his family. But we are not yet God’s children in the way we one day will be—possessing the full inheritance, enjoying perfect holiness in resurrected bodies, and glorified.”[8] This is what we hope for, the hope that is an integral part of being a follower of Jesus. In hope we were saved, and in hope we patiently wait for that which we don’t yet see, the consummation of the kingdom. “The object of our hope has not yet been revealed. But the hope of glory is still our highest hope, and because of that we wait with patience for it.”[9]This hope is not a wish, not like “I hope I win the lottery,” but a sure thing, founded in God’s promises. And because our hope is centered on God we can be patient, we can bear up under the suffering and evil of this life, we can expect that the best is yet to come. We can endure the sufferings of this life with fortitude, because of our hope of glory and the pledge of redemption. “There is something better yet. It is more wonderful than our finite minds can grasp, more glorious than imagination can conceive. It is a bright vision that leads us forward and imparts steadfastness and perseverance regardless of trial or disappointment or failure. Because of our hope of heaven itself, we are made strong to endure.”[10]

The righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of the Father. Let anyone with ears listen!

[1] Erickson, Millard J. Christian Theology. Baker Books: 1998, p.1170.
[2] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. Zondervan: 2004, p. 482.
[3] Ibid, 486.
[4] Ibid, 486.
[5] Ibid, 486.
[6] Allen, Clifton J. The Gospel According to Paul: A Study of the Letter to the Romans. Convention Press, 1956, p. 92.
[7] Moo, Douglas. The NIV Application Commentary: Romans. Zondervan: 2000, p. 267.
[8] Ibid, 267.
[9] Allen, 93.
[10] Ibid, 93.

Year A Proper 10

2008-07-31T08:52:00.000-07:00

Today’s Gospel reading is often called the Parable of the Sower. Barbara Brown Taylor, an Episcopal Priest who Baylor University called one of the twelve most effective preachers in the English language tells it like this:
Once upon a time a sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell along the path, and the birds came along and devoured them. So he put his seed pouch down and spent the next hour or so stringing aluminum foil all around his field. He put up a fake owl he ordered from a garden catalog and, as an afterthought, he hung up a couple of traps for the Japanese beetles.
Then he returned to his sowing, but he noticed some of the seeds were falling on rocky ground, so he put his seed pouch down again and went to fetch his wheelbarrow and shovel. A couple of hours later he had dug up the rocks and was trying to think of something useful he could do with them when he remembered his sowing and got back to it, but as soon as he did he ran right into a briar patch that was sure to strangle his little seedlings. So he put his pouch down again and looked everywhere for the weed poison but finally decided just to pull the thorns up by hand, which meant that he had to go back inside and look everywhere for his gloves.
Now by the time he had the briars cleared it was getting dark, so the sower picked up his pouch and his tools and decided to call it a day. That night he fell asleep in his chair reading a seed catalog, and when he woke the next morning he walked out into his field and found a big crow sitting on his fake owl. He found rocks he had not found the day before and he found new little leaves on the roots of the briars that he had broken of in his hands. The sower considered all of this, pushing his cap back on his head, and then he did a strange thing: he began to laugh, just a chuckle at first and then a full-fledged guffaw that turned into a wheeze at the end then his wind ran out.
Still laughing and wheezing he went after his seed pouch and began flinging seeds everywhere: into the roots of trees, onto the roof of his house, across all his fences and into his neighbor’s fields. He shook seeds at his cows and offered a handful to the dog; he even tossed a fistful into the creek, thinking hey might take root downstream somewhere. The more he sowed, the more he seemed to have. None of it made any sense to him, but for once that did not seem to matter, and he had to admit that he had never been happier in all his life.
Let those who have ears to hear, hear.[1]

The parable of the outrageously generous, magnanimous sower. A super-abundantly generous God is also portrayed in our other lessons. In Isaiah: Everyone who thirst, come to the waters, and you that have no money, come, buy and eat. Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Eat what is good, delight yourselves in rich food. I will make with you and everlasting covenant. Come, eat, drink. A table is prepared for you, everything has been done, all is ready for you. Come and eat, that your soul may live! “God’s invitation is not merely to find a supply of bodily needs but to satisfy a person’s whole being . . . with true life.”[2] God’s covenant will enable his followers to be servants, to fulfill the promises, but they also must accept what God has done, accept his invitation. “A banquet table is worse than useless to the person who is either too proud or too ashamed to come and eat from it.”[3]
In our Isaiah lesson for this week a few verses are left out, and I’ll read them now. “Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will richly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.
God challenges his people to respond, to step out in faith, to trust in his word. “God promises that what he says . . . is indeed reliable and that forgiveness and abundance are theirs now and in the future if they will only seek him. . . . [and then] all nature will rejoice in the redemption of humanity, and in place of sorrow and sighing there will be ‘joy’ and ‘peace.’[4] Amazing and abundant.
The theme of God’s abundant generosity continues in our Psalm: You visit the earth and water it abundantly, you make it very plenteous. . . you bless the grain, and bless the earth with rain. God’s hills are rich, his hills are clothed with joy. The meadows and valleys sing for joy. God abundantly pours out his blessings throughout the earth.
Even in out Epistle: “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you. . . . All who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God . . . adopted as sons.” The abundant generosity of God who enables us to be his children, causes us to cry out with joy! Abba, Father!
Yes, each of our lessons point to God’s abundant generosity. But there is also a sub-theme regarding our responsibility. In the Isaiah passage, we need to respond, to come to the banquet, to seek God. We need to repent, to turn to the Lord. Often this is an act of faith, of trust. It’s about letting go, even though we don’t know God’s ways and plans. It’s about surrendering our life to Him, and allowing God to determine our paths. God invites us to his banquet, but “we are to leave our comfortable worldly ways and launch out in paths of service and living that do not depend on our strength but on his.”[5]
Last week, in the Epistle reading we heard that “there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:1). But today we heard “if you live according to the flesh, you will did, but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live.” (v.13) Can both of these be true? There is a tension there, a tension that we are exploring today between God’s generosity and his Sovereignty, and man’s responsibility. A mystery. “What is important is a careful balance between what God gives us in Christ and what we must do in response to that gift.” [6] God is abundantly generous and grace-fully loving towards us, but we must respond to that gift in a manner pleasing to him. Living with the Spirit’s presence, the Spirit works in us, but in cooperation with us. Through the Spirit, we are able to put sin to death in our lives. We do it, but we can only do it through the Spirit. This is bearing good fruit, the fruit of the Spirit.
Which brings us full circle to the Parable of the Sower. It is also a parable of the soil. It’s not about worrying abut which kind of soil you are, but about being receptive to the seed, to God’s abundance spread out in our lives. We are called to be good soil, good dirt. Hearing and understanding, with obedience, results in fruit. The responsibility for producing fruit is the responsibility of the sower, of the Gospel message itself, but “we must be careful to supply proper nutrients and care for our well-being by continually being watered with the Word of God and enfolded in a . . . community of other believers. We likewise must be careful not to allow the weeds of this world to choke us.”[7] Good soil produces good fruit. Good soil is seeking God and allowing Him to work in us and through us by the power of the Holy Spirit. Good soil is a product of the Master Gardener. Lord, we pray that you will abundantly and generously sow your seeds in us and though us. Amen.

[1] Taylor, Barabara B. The Seeds of heaven: Sermons on the Gospel of Matthew. Westminster John Knox Press, 2004, p. 28-9.
[2] Oswalt, John N. The NIV Application Commentary: Isaiah. Zondervan, 2003, p. 601.
[3] Ibid, 602.
[4] Ibid, 602.
[5] Ibid, 604.
[6] Moo, Douglas. The NIV Application Commentary: Romans. Zondervan, 2000, p. 258.
[7] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, Zondervan 2004, p. 503.

Year A Proper 9

2008-07-31T06:18:00.000-07:00

As you all know, I spend a fair amount of time in my car during the week. And while I like all kinds of music—from country to classical to classic rock, blues and jazz—I usually listen to Christian Radio. I am careful these days as to what kind of stuff I am letting into my head, you know, garbage in, garbage out. Not that there’s anything wrong with a lot of the music out there, but I’m not comfortable filling my ears with some of the stuff presented in song. Like Paul said in Phillippians chapter 4, “6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 8 Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” So I almost always have Contemporary Christian music playing on my car radio—and we are really blessed to have a couple good stations available in this area! In Pittsburgh I never found one.
So, I was driving earlier this week and heard the intro to a program where the speaker said: “After 29 years, I quit trying to be a Christian.” Hmm. Got my attention. I know in the past I’ve spent a lot of time trying to be a Christian—how about you? Do you find it hard to be a Christian, hard to keep from sinning, hard to keep on the straight and narrow, hard to be focused? Too many rules, too many commandments? I understand that—been there. And I think that’s what the guy on the radio was talking about—and what today’s lessons are about. The answer is, Quit Trying. That’s right, Quit Trying!!!!!!
In his letter to the Romans, Paul talks about his struggles to obey the law. Now there are lots of different perspectives on this, but I think he is talking about his life as a Pharisee, before his encounter with Christ. Paul begins by talking about the principle he discovered in his struggle, that when he wanted to do good, evil is close by. He continues by contrasting “God’s law with another ‘law,’ ‘the law of sin.’ For just as God in his law makes a claim on our lives, so sin, acting through our members, exerts its own claim on us. These two claims battle for our allegiance.” [1] God’s law could not save us from our sinful tendencies. The result, as Paul says, is that he is most wretched, looking for rescue from sin, for salvation. And this rescue is provided by Christ Jesus—thanks be to God!! “Having expressed the desire for rescue from the frustration of not being able to do God’s law that he felt as a Jew under the law, Paul the Christian cannot refrain from interjecting thanksgiving for the source of the deliverance he has experienced.”[2]
Paul continues by saying “there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” In Christ, there is a new law, the law of the Spirit of life which overcomes the law of sin and death. “The Spirit exerts a liberating power through the work of Christ that takes us out of the realm of sin and the spiritual death to which sin inevitably leads.”[3] And this happens through Christ Jesus. Jesus Christ is God’s intervention, doing what the law could not. Christ himself did not sin, and he was not subject to the law of sin, but he “became what we are so that we could become what he is.”[4] Through Christ, the righteous requirement of the law was fulfilled—on our behalf. We are no longer condemned. What the law required, Christ accomplished for those who walk in the Spirit, those who live in the realm of the Spirit, setting their minds on things of the Spirit. This is life and peace—not struggle, not trying, but life and peace. Freedom.
In Christ, the apostle Paul found life and peace. And so did Martin Luther, the great reformer. Luther was a faithful and obedient monk, righteous according to all the religious standards of his day just like Paul the Pharisee. But Luther was filled with doubt and despair, worrying over the littlest sins, afraid he’d die before his next confession—until he recognized that he was saved by faith alone, by God’s grace alone. It’s not about doing, struggling, trying and failing, but about living in Christ.

And that’s what Jesus is saying in the gospel, and especially in what we used to refer to as “the comfortable words” “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Jesus calls and says, “’Come to me,’ a tender call to mercy for those who are weary and burdened. ‘Weary evokes the image of persons exhausted from their work or journey, while ‘burdened’ indicates persons weighted down with heavy loads . . . harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”[5] In Christ, there is rest, rest that cannot be found in trying to live up to the legal requirements of the Pharisees, of the law.
Jesus said, “take my yoke upon you.” We need to remember that a yoke is a wooden frame which joined two animals together for pulling loads. In 1st century Judaism, they would have understood the yoke of the law, the yoke of studying the Torah, and also the yoke of foreign oppression. Jesus’ “yoke—a metaphor for discipleship to him—promises rest from the weariness and burden of religious regulation and human oppression, because it is none other than commitment to him.”[6] That’s all, just follow him, learn from him. The yoke of discipleship brings rest—because Jesus is gentle and humble in heart. Jesus came humbly, in human form, and gently, bringing the good news of the Kingdom of Heaven; bringing healing to a sin-sick world.
Discipleship is, however, still a yoke—a yoke that is easy and a burden that is light. “His discipleship is an easy or serviceable yoke because his teaching equips us most effectively to live out God’s will in the way life was meant to be lived. Furthermore, his discipleship is not the oppressive burden of Pharisaic legalism (23:4) but instead turns the load of life into one that is manageable.”[7] Life on earth is not always easy and pleasant, but Jesus will help us carry the load. Rest and peace. Quit trying.
By trying to live up to the demands of perceived religious expectations, we become weary and frustrated, burdened down by our inability to measure up. Jesus invites us to find rest in him, rest in his yoke of discipleship. This seems counterintuitive, doesn’t it, that we will find rest in him, rest in a discipleship that demands us to commit our very lives to him. But I have found it to be true, that when I finally realized that I couldn’t do it on my own, that I couldn’t measure up, and when I gave up and surrendered my life to Him, the struggle and worry about trying to be a Christian, to read and meditate and do all the right things—the struggle wasn’t there. For me, these became pleasure. I know that we think we find rest and comfort in all sorts of places and pleasures, things that dull the pain, but these leave us empty in the end. “Jesus offers us—true life (John 10:10), one that forms us from the inside out . . . and makes us into the kinds of people who love and serve God under his easy yoke of discipleship.”[8] A Christian author by the name of Douglas Webster wrote a book called The Easy Yoke, and he said,

Apart from the grace of Christ and the saving work of the Cross, it would be impossible to convince people that the easy yoke is doable, let alone easy. But for those who live under the yoke, there is absolutely no other way to live. Who in their right mind would go back to the gods of Self, Money, Lust and Power? Who would return on bended knee to the shrines of pious performance and judgmentalism? Is not love better than hate, purity better than lust, reconciliation better than retaliation? And is not “better” really “easier” when measured in character rather than convenience, rest for the soul rather than selfish pride?[9]

The freedom we have in Christ is so much better, so much easier. It is Life, peace, and rest. As Janice Joplin in the song, “Me and Bobby McGee,” “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” When you have nothing left to lose, Quit trying. Jesus said come to me and you will find rest, an easier and lighter burden. Life and peace. Freedom. Amen.

[1] Moo, Douglas. The NIV Application Commentary: Romans, p. 238.
[2] Ibid, 239.
[3] Ibid, 249.
[4] Ibid, 249.
[5] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. 422.
[6] Ibid, 424.
[7] Ibid, 424.
[8] Ibid, 433.
[9] Qtd. Wilkins 433-4.

Year A Proper 8

2008-07-30T06:39:00.000-07:00

What does it mean to be a disciple? What is a disciple? The basic definition is that a disciple is a learner, a student of a teacher, or even the adherent of a particular outlook in religion or philosophy, or even art and architecture. In the first century, the Jews considered themselves to be disciples of Moses. The Pharisees had their own disciples. Even John the Baptist had disciples. While Jesus was not an officially recognized teacher, he was known as a rabbi and his followers were called disciples. Disciples are more than just students, though; they often embrace and spread the teachings of the teacher. They are imitators of their masters. We are called to be students of Christ and imitators of him, to be doers and not just hearers.

In the New Testament, we know especially of Jesus’ 12 disciples, but in other places all who responded to his message and followed him were his disciples. Discipleship is based on Jesus’ call and involves exclusive loyalty to him. As we heard in today’s gospel, this can result in conflict within the family, and many disciples left their homes, businesses and possessions. Disciples of Jesus are his representatives to the world.

Today’s lessons all have something to say about what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.
In the Old Testament reading from Isaiah, we are called to humility and away from pride and idolatry in order to that the Lord will be exalted. The reading emphasized the theme of God’s exclusive “glory by contrasting it with every ‘high’ thing in creation. That includes trees (v. 13), mountains (v. 14), fortifications (v. 15), and beautiful, tall-masted ships (v. 16). Noting in all creation can compare to the Lord. He is another order of being all together. So how can mere humans . . . hope to stand up to him (vv. 17-18)?”[1]

Humility . . . is not feeling bad about ourselves. It is not self-denigration or trying to get others to say good things about us. True humility is recognizing who we are in God’s eyes. It is putting God first, and then to know ourselves as children of God, to know that he has a purpose for us and that we are valuable in his sight. He has made us for himself, and called us to himself. It is submitting to God and allowing him to care for us as sons and daughters of the Most High. Jesus said, “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted (Matt 23:12).” When we try “to take his place, we become nothing, but allowing him to be exalted alone, we become the princes and princesses of the universe.”[2] True humility is not striving or self serving, but is a gift like grace. It is self-forgetting. “It is the ability to go about the tasks God has given, secure in his love and his valuing, without wondering if others appreciate us as much as they should. It is the ability to see others being praised and not need to belittle them either silently or aloud, in an effort to make oneself look good by comparison. To paraphrase a popular saying: “Humility is to know there is a God, and to know you are not him."

So a disciple evidences humility. In his first letter, Peter said: “Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble." Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. "(1 Peter 5:5b-7).

In our Psalm selection, we see that disciples sing praise to God, convinced of his love by his faithfulness and his lovingkindness, shown to us in sending Christ as David’s descendent, preserving the throne of David. We are called to rejoice in the Name of God, walking in the light of God’s own presence. God is the glory, the Lord is the King. Disciples praise the Lord for the great things he has done.

In the section from Paul’s letter to the Romans, our Epistle reading, we learn that as disciples, as followers of Christ, we are baptized into Christ’s death, buried with him. Baptism is a sign, a sacrament, representing the fact that we have died to sin and have been raised up to a new life in Christ. We are united spiritually with Christ. We are “in Christ.” There is a death to sin and an experience of new life within the heart. This is a new kind of life. It has a new moral quality and new moral power.” By emphasizing that the Christian is united with Christ in his death and resurrection. Our lives should look different from the rest of the world, different than they used to. This happens at conversion, at baptism, but we spend our whole lives learning what this looks like, to be one with Christ. Just as Christ died to sin once and for all and now lives to God, we also must consider ourselves dead to sin and alive to Christ. We will still sin, because we are human, but the power of the Holy Spirit is available to us to keep us from sinning. Sin no longer rules our lives, no longer dictates our conduct. Our old self has been crucified with Christ.
Our situation is a little like that of the people of Iraq. The old government has been destroyed. The victory is final and will not be reversed. There is a new day. But people still have to choose whether they will live in the old regime or the new. Some people in Iraq choose to live as if Saddam were still in control – because of fear, or lack of faith in the new government, or their identification with their oppressor, or just because it’s hard to change after 30 years. There is a new regime. They have been set free. But they have to choose to live that way. Some of us as Christians continue to live as if sin were still our master even though sin is really powerless and has been defeated forever.[3]
Martin Lloyd-Jones, the London pastor who preached for years on Romans, asked his hearers to picture a scene in the British countryside. There are two fields enclosed by high rock walls. Every person begins life in one of the fields, the one ruled over by Satan and sin. We have no chance of scaling the walls and escaping on our own. But God in his mercy reaches down and picks us up out of Satan’s field and puts us down in the field next door, ruled over by Jesus Christ and righteousness. So we have a whole new relationship to sin, but we can still hear Satan calling across the wall from that old field where we used to live. Out of long habit, we sometimes still obey his voice, even though we don’t have to [cited in Douglas Moo, Romans, NIV Application Commentary, Zondervan, 2000, p. 208]. Our “mortal bodies,” Paul says, are still susceptible to his influence even though we as whole persons have been set free and transferred to a new place. We have to choose not to listen, not to offer our bodies to him but to God, and to move further and further away from the wall. That old master who promised self-fulfillment and freedom from God never did anything for you except produce shame and death. Don’t listen to him. You’re free from him. Listen instead to your new master, Jesus, and do what he says, because his way will produce a life that is holy and eternal.[4]
Disciples are free from sin and death, and are alive in Christ Jesus, united to him, spending our lives learning what it means to be one with him.

In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus promises his disciples not peace, but division. We will face tests even at home and even family members will turn on each other. For most of us this is not the case, at least not to the extreme, but converts from Islam especially are cut of from their family. It took a long time for Jesus’ own family to recognize his true identity and mission; disciples of Jesus “can expect division to occur in their famil[ies].”[5] Even further, being a disciple means that Jesus reigns supreme in the lives of believers. Our allegiance to Jesus must come before our allegiance to parents or children. We are called to give priority to Jesus as God above all other relationships. In taking up our crosses, we take up God’s will for our lives, just as the cross was God’s will for the Son’s life. Then we will find true life. We are called to be missionary disciples, going into the world with the authority and message of Jesus. A disciple carries the message.
As missionary disciples, chances are most of us won’t go overseas. We may not go on a mission trip at home or abroad. But we are called to be involved in mission in some fashion. “The specifics of how one engages in mission should be tailored to ones giftedness and abilities, but a disciple of Jesus will see that carrying he message of salvation to the world is a vital part of our discipleship.”[6] We are to be involved with mission work, within our homes and communities, but we can also support the mission work of the church. We can support missionary efforts financially, perhaps through Anglican Relief and Development or some other Mission agency, and we can also support missionaries through our prayers, which is equally important. “When we stay at home and support those who go, we are fellow workers with them. God gives generously to us, his disciples, so we should likewise give generously to mission-disciples involved in full-time mission.”[7]
So, today we have learned that disciples are humble. Disciples praise God for his greatness. Disciples are buried with Christ in baptism, and raised to new life. Disciples are dead to sin and alive to God. Disciples face opposition, even at home, but are to put their allegiance to Christ above all else. Disciples are missionaries, at home and abroad. Disciples are you and me.

[1] Oswalt, The NIV Application Commentary: Isaiah, 96.
[2] Ibid, 103.
[3] http://www.latoniabaptist.org/templates/System/details.asp?id=24346&PID=104711&Style=
[4] http://www.latoniabaptist.org/templates/System/details.asp?id=24346&PID=104711&Style=
[5] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, 397.
[6] Ibid, 404.
[7] Ibid, 404.

Year A Proper 7

2008-07-30T06:35:00.000-07:00

In the past several weeks, our epistle lessons have been working through the Pauls letter to the Romans. The Grace of God towards us is one of the significant themes, at least in the past few weeks and chapters. God’s grace, his unmerited favor towards us, is shown by the fact that while we were still sinners, Jesus Christ died for us in order that we might be reconciled to God. Before Christ, we were dead in our sins, suffering from a terminal disease brought on by the sin of Adam, but because of what Christ has done for us we are raised to new life in him. Grace, free grace, reconciled us to God.

There are numerous stories, numerous explanations of grace. Charles Spurgeon, an English preacher, author, and editor in the 1800’s has an interesting note on grace. He said:
Someone asked me once, “Why do you. say free grace? Of course, if it is grace, it’s free.” “Oh, well!” I replied, “I do so to make assurance doubly sure.” We will always call it, not only grace, but free grace, to make it clear that God gives his grace freely to sinners,—the undeserving and ungodly. He gives it without any condition. If, in one place, he says that he requires repentance, in another place he promises it; if he demands faith at one moment, he bestows it at another. So grace is always God’s free gift, and that suits a man who has not a penny in his pocket.
Spurgeon continues: I have walked—as I dare—say some of you have—by the goldsmiths’ and jewellers’ shops in the Palais Royal at Paris, and seen the vast amount of wealth that is exhibited there; and many of you have gone along the great streets of our city, and seen perfect mines of wealth displayed, and you have said to yourself,” Ah! I cannot purchase any of these things, because there is a little ticket hanging down below with certain pounds marked on it, and I cannot afford to buy them. It is all I can do to get bread and cheese for those who are at home, so I must leave these luxuries to others.” But if I should ever pass by a goldsmith’s shop, and see a ticket bearing the words, “Free gift!” I should be willing to take a few things at that price. I am glad that you smile at that expression, because those are my Master’s terms. He has treasures worth more than the most glorious jeweller’s shop ever contained, and they are all free gifts to all who trust him. I dare not laugh at you, but I shall have to blame and condemn you, if eternal life be God’s free gift, and yet you will not say, “I will take it, and have it for ever.” You would like to take jewellery for nothing, but you will not accept everlasting life mad pardon for nothing by simply trusting in the Lord Jesus Christ[1].

Our New Testament reading today begins in the middle of a thought, and is of course referring to Adam. Adam was an antitype, a forerunner in a sense, of Christ, alike but different. There are several parallels between Adam and Christ, as we shall see; the difference between the two is that in Christ God’s grace is made known to us. The words “grace” and “gift” occur something like seven times in the first three verses. While the result of Adam’s sin was death, judgment and condemnation, the result of Christ is justification and the overwhelming grace of God. It is truly amazing that ‘the accumulated sins and guilt of all the ages should be answered by God’s free gift, this miracle of miracles, utterly beyond human comprehension.”[2] Christ not only “cancels the effects of Adam’s sin, he enables those who have received the ‘abundant provision of grace’ and the ‘gift of righteousness’ not just to experience life but to ‘reign in life.’”[3]

In the last couple of verses, we see the parallels between Adam and Christ. First
of all, Adam committed a trespass by his disobedience, resulting in death, and Christ, by his obedience, committed righteousness. Adam turned away from God, and Christ turned towards God. Finally, Adam’s disobedience led to condemnation, and Christ’s righteous obedience resulted in justification and life. Adam’s sin made people sinners; Christ enabled our goodness and obedience. We are made righteous in God’s eyes, because of Christ’s free gift of sacrifice.
All that Paul says is designed to impress the wondrous nature of grace and the reality of Christ’s saving work. Grace is more powerful than sin. It is God’s remedy for sin, the free gift of his love. Sin is a tyrant, but grace sets men free. Sin separates from God, but grace reconciles men to God. Salvation by grace, therefore, is God’s response to the need of sinful men. The creative wisdom, compassionate mercy, and eternal purpose of God, all brought to focus in the sacrifice of Christ on the cross, have achieved salvation from sin.[4]

This is the great good news of the gospel, the good news of Jesus, and as a result we should be like the prophet Jeremiah in our Old Testament lesson, compelled to shout the good news, burning with a fire in our bones. John Wesley once said, “Catch on fire with enthusiasm and people will come for miles to watch you burn.” That’s what happened to Jeremiah, and that’s what happened to the disciples.

In our gospel, Jesus warns of persecution and trials on account of Jesus, as a testimony to governors and kings, and the Gentiles. But Jesus also promises that in trials he will be with his disciples, giving them the words to say, the Spirit of the Father speaking through them. Opposition will come, from outside powers but also from within the family. . “Moses had warned the people that even if one’s own brother or sister or wife or closest friend tries to beguile a person into idolatry, this person was to be stoned.”[5] While Jesus’ disciples have the honor and privilege of knowing Christ and carrying his message, they will also be the subjects of hatred and persecution. But Jesus also promises that all those who endure, those who are faithful, will be saved. The Spirit will provide the resources to withstand difficulties.

Jesus also says that the student, the disciple, is like his teacher, the servant like his master. The trials he experiences will be theirs as well. But he repeatedly tells his followers not to be afraid, and gives three reasons for their confidence. 1. The truth about Jesus and his ministry will be revealed, and the religious leadership will be exposed as false. 2. Their eternal destiny is secure. Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. These words are a call to courage in the face of persecution and opposition. 3.,His disciples should not be afraid because God is in charge, watching over them in every single detail, even to the number of the hairs on their head. God is in control—do not be afraid.
The ultimate test of a disciple’s commitment to Jesus comes when opposition arises. When the disciple is able to stand firm and acknowledge Christ, he will please the Father, but denial of Christ as Lord and God results in rejection by the Father.
When we, today, catch on fire for the Lord, we will face opposition and even persecution. That seems practically irrelevant for us here today, but persecution happens every day. Wilkins writes of:

Oswaldo (Wally) Magdangal, a Filipino pastor whose house church in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, grew too noticeable for the authorities, was arrested for blaspheming Islam. Shari’ah law requires beheading for ‘apostates’—those who renounce Islam. Religious police tortured every part of Magdangal’s body, trying to force him to renounce his faith, and he was beaten throughout 210 minutes of mocking interrogation. During that time no Friday passed without at least one execution in the public square, and Pastor Wally was sentenced to be executed on Friday, December 25th, 1992. But through the combined efforts of Western human rights organizations and his close friends in the Saudi government, God miraculously intervened and Pastor Wally was deported; he is now president of Christians in Crisis, an advocacy based group based in Sacramento, California. His goal is to wake up the church to the real persecution that Christians around the world experience every day.[6]

I subscribe to the Voice of the Martyrs and receive an email every week as a call to pray for dozens of similar situations, and there are dozens of websites devoted to the persecuted church.

But persecution doesn’t only happen in the on the opposite side of the globe. Our country is becoming increasingly secular, and “Christians are discouraged from denouncing practices condemned in Scripture. . . In the name of ‘freedom of religion’ many of the normal practices of faith once enjoyed—such as public prayers or even displays of a manger scene at Christmas, have been stripped away. The agenda of much public policy seems more like freedom from religion, and the consequences for those who decry this, secularist public policy will grow increasingly harsh.”[7]
And yet, we must speak boldly in order to promote the Gospel of Christ. I challenge you to be aware of these injustices, to fight for religious freedoms, to pray for the persecuted church at home and abroad. Catch on fire, burn, get involved, and pray. Pastor Wally’s Christians in Crisis website says that “Prayer is the least, yet the most we can do for them.”
This prayer is adapted from A Prayer Book for Sailors and Soldiers (1941) Let’s pray together:

O blessed Lord, who yourself underwent the pain and suffering of the Cross; Uphold, we beseech you, with your promised gift of strength all those of our brothers and sisters who are suffering for their faith in you. Grant that in the midst of all persecutions they may hold fast by this faith, and that from their stedfastness your Church may grow in grace and we ourselves in perseverance, to the honour of your Name, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit are one God, world without end. Amen.
[1] http://preceptaustin.org/romans_516-17.htm
[2] Cranfield, The Epistle to the Romans, 286; quoted in Moo, Douglas The NIV Application Commentary: Romans, 183.
[3] Moo, Douglas. 184.
[4] Allen, Clifton J. the Gospel According to Paul: A Study of the Letter to the Romans, p. 66.
[5] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, 393.
[6] Wilkins 407
[7] Ibid, 407.

Year A Proper 6 Father's Day

2008-07-30T06:21:00.000-07:00

[10 years ago] Television News Anchor Tom Brokaw wrote a best-selling, gripping tribute to what he calls The Greatest Generation. It is a collection of stories about the generation that grew up in the Great Depression which was shaken out of everyday life to help save the world by fighting the Second World War on two fronts, and which then immediately undertook the daunting task of rebuilding the economies and political institutions of their own homeland and those of their former enemies.

One of the most important themes that Brokaw wanted to get across is that these were common people who all joined together to face these challenges. It wasn’t just an elite group who made up this greatest generation. They were ordinary men and women who answered the call to serve their country in whatever capacity they were gifted and equipped. Some were on the front lines fighting hand to hand with the enemy, while others were on the home front nursing the wounded back to health. Some heroes humbly received Medals of Honor, while other heroes served nobly in the obscurity of a factory. The Allied victory in World War II and the rebuilding of the war-ravaged world could not have been accomplished except for the full mobilization of an entire generation.

When we read the story of Jesus’ mission of the Twelve, we can also think of them as the greatest generation of the church. They were called out of the hardship of occupation by the Roman Empire, but they went on to fight a battle, not with swords and chariots, but with the good news of the arrival of the kingdom of heaven and a message of transformation. They went on the lay the foundation of the church, and most suffered martyrdom for the name of the Lord Jesus.[1]

On Father’s Day it’s important to remember that the Bible is full of ordinary men-- and women--most of them unlikely and even reluctant candidates. But as a result of God’s call they accomplished extraordinary things. In our Old Testament reading, Moses is the mediator between the people and God, and the one to whom God is speaking. Moses, full of excuses and reluctance, had to be prodded and pushed into taking up the task of delivering the Israelites. A man with a speech defect, a man with no confidence, became one of the greatest leaders and prophets in the Bible.

In Romans Paul makes it clear that those who are justified by grace are not likely candidates either. “The very concept of grace, in fact, makes it plain that anyone who is claimed by God, has no innate claim on God in any way. ‘While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. . . . God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. . . .For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.”[2] While we were weak, while we were sinners, while we were enemies—God’s grace saved our lives for his own sake. Unlikely candidates indeed.

And then there are the twelve disciples named in our gospel reading. Again, in who’s opinion other than God’s would this band of ordinary men-- businessmen, husbands and fathers--be the ones chosen to change the world. When chosen by God, by Jesus, these men were equipped and transformed, but they aren’t all that different than you and me. Take a look and see if there are any you can identify with any of these 12 men:
· Peter—a businessman who was regularly in a leadership position.
· Andrew, his brother—a person highly sensitive to God’s leading, though overshadowed by his brother Peter.
· James the son of Zebedee—who left a successful family business to follow Jesus but was the first apostle martyred.
· John, his brother—who had a fiery temper but also a profound love for God.
· Philip—never quite one of the inner circle, yet took a leadership role among the lesser-known apostles.
· Bartholomew—known for his outspoken honesty (he is probably the one called Nathaniel in John 1:43-51)
· Thomas—a skeptical rationalist who eventually had one of the most profound theological understandings of Jesus’ identity as the God-man.
· Matthew the tax collector—formerly a traitor to his own people to support himself and his family but became a missionary to them by writing his Gospel.
· James the son of Alphaeus—either younger, shorter, or less well known than the other James [we refer to him as James the Less], faithful throughout his life but never given much recognition for it.
· Thaddaeus (or Lebbaeus)—also called Judas son of James, often confused with Judas Iscariot and didn’t develop much of his own reputation.
· Simon the Zealot—before accepting Jesus as Messiah, a guerrilla fighter who wanted to bring in God’s kingdom by force.
· Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him—love of money and power may have drawn him to abandon and betray even his closest friends. [3]

Ordinary men, not much different than us. Real men, with real strengths and weaknesses, with positive character attributes, and real foibles, failings and faults. And see how God transformed them. Remember Peter, always sticking his foot in his mouth, an outspoken leader but didn’t quite understand the program. Peter, who betrayed the Lord. And this same Peter preached on the day of Pentecost and 3000 people were baptized!! One of the most remarkable things in the bible is the transformation of the disciples presented in the gospels—to the power houses many became in the book of Acts—truly something substantial occurred, transforming their lives.
This same transforming power is available to us, every day of our lives. “Christians are everyday people who have been called to advance the kingdom of God in an alien and hostile world. We are the church, the body of Jesus Christ, some of whose service results in external and public honor, while others carry out their service in the humility of obscurity. But each individual is vitally necessary to the functioning of the church in the world.”[4]
We are all called to be disciples, and even to be missionaries to our families, friends, and neighbors, even these things are sometimes hard to do. But when God transforms our minds and our hearts, our lives will have an impact on those around us. God uses ordinary people doing ordinary things in an extraordinary way—a way that reflects God’s light into the world around us. A way that shines with Christ’s own light. A way that looks a little bit different than the way the world might do things.

God can and will transform us from the inside out, and he can and will transform relationships between fathers and children, husbands and wives, children and parents. There is no higher calling than to live out our lives in a Christian manner, and in our own families. On this Father’s Day, we honor especially the role of fatherhood, ordinary men with an extraordinary responsibility. In President Bush’s Father’s Day proclamation he said,

“Fathers play a unique and important role in the lives of their children. As mentor, protector, and provider, a father fundamentally influences the shape and direction of his child's character by giving love, care, discipline, and guidance. As we observe Father's Day, our nation honors fatherhood and urges fathers to commit themselves selflessly to the success and well-being of their children. And we reaffirm the importance of fathers in the lives of their children. Raising a child requires significant time, effort, and sacrifice; and it is one of the most hopeful and fulfilling experiences a man can ever know. A father can derive great joy from seeing his child grow from infancy to adulthood. As a child matures into independence and self reliance, the value of a parent's hard work, love, and commitment comes to fruition. Responsible fatherhood is important to a healthy and civil society. Numerous studies confirm that children whose fathers are present and involved in their lives are more likely to develop into prosperous and healthy adults. Children learn by example; and they need their father's presence as examples of virtue in their daily lives. A child's sense of security can be greatly enhanced by seeing his parents in a loving and faithful marriage." [5]

A biblical scholar named D.A. Carson wrote a book about his own father, a pastor. Here’s what a reviewer had to say:

Tom Carson was a pastor in the province of Quebec in Canada from the 1930s to the 1970s. He spoke at no major conferences, wrote no seminal work, and never pastored even a mid-size church by American standards. Yet it is clear from his son's profile that he was an exceptional man. He was a faithful husband, a devoted if quiet father, a dogged servant of the church, and a passionate witness for Christ. I never met him, but I know him. He is the man who can be found in countless little towns and hamlets across the country--no, across the world--who labors faithfully for the Lord in an unspectacular but steady fashion. Unlike many of us self-promoters, he's not in ministry to make a name for himself, but to glorify his God. [6]

On Father’s Day, may all fathers—and all of us--seek nothing more, and nothing less, than to glorify our God. Let us pray for all the fathers represented here today:

God our Father, in your infinite wisdom and love you made all things, and caused us to be in families. Bless these men present today, that they may be strengthened as Christian fathers, following your example of Fatherhood. For some of these men, being a father has come easily and naturally, and we praise you and thank you for that. But for others, it’s hard and they are wounded. Lord, hear our confession of sin, of failure, of ignorance. Help us all to forgive our own fathers for their faults and failings. For these men here today, I pray that the example of their faith and love will shine forth in their families. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, help them to love the mother of their children, and to be shining examples of a life lived to glorify you, our God and Father, through Christ our Lord, Amen.

[1] Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, p. 402.
[2] http://www.predigten.uni-goettingen.de/predigt.php?id=1023&kennung=20080615en
[3] Wilkins, 406.
[4] Ibid., 403.
[5] http://www.fathersdaycelebration.com/fathers-day-prayer.html
[6] http://consumedblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/when-ordinary-is-extraordinary.html