Brother Tom O.P.A.

I have become all things to all people

2012-02-05T14:18:00.001-05:00

Fifth Sunday After the Epiphany+ Year B (RCL)
Mark 1:29-39

Last Sunday, we heard how a man possessed by ademon confronted Jesus in the synagogue at Capernaum. This week, we have moreabout demons. While Jesus was staying at the house of Simon Peter, the peoplein the community brought their loved ones to him. Mark’s Gospel makes theinteresting distinction:

“That evening, at sundown, they brought to himall who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gatheredaround the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, andcast out many demons.” [Mark1:32-34a]

So, people brought to Jesusthose who were sick and those who were possessed with demons. Have you ever wonderedwhat the difference was?

In Jesus’ time, andespecially in a backwater of the Roman Empire like Galilee, there was littlemedical knowledge available. There were no doctors for any but the very rich,and they didn’t have much medical knowledge. When you were sick you either wenton with your life or went to bed to see if you would recover or die. There werea few people—usually women—who were known to have some success in helpingothers get better, but using folk medicine knowledge that was handed down fromgeneration to generation. I’m sure it was helpful and may even have beenaccurate, as we have learned in recent years.

The difference between being“sick” and being “possessed by a demon” seems to have been based on whetherthere was an obvious cause for the person’s illness. If everyone could see thatyou had a wound or injury, if they could attribute a known cause to yourillness, then you were “sick.” Everything else—every other kind of ailment—wasattributed to forces outside the human body: often to an act of the devil or possessionby a demon. That included every kind of mental illness or personality disorder,as well as learning disabilities, cancers, and the results of strokes and heartattacks.

Today, where do we stand ondemons? First of all, medical science can look inside the brain, body, blood,and DNA and find clear physical evidenceof many illnesses that were once invisible to the outside world. Second, wehave lots of science about the human mind, personality, and behavior. Weclassify mental illness as just another form of sickness today.

This all leads to two verygood questions: why did Jesus seem to believe, as did all the people of histime, that some illnesses were caused by demonic possession, and is there anysuch thing as a demon in the world today?

Let’s take the firstquestion. There are two ways of looking at Jesus in this situation. The firstis to emphasize that Jesus was completely human (while also being completelydivine). As a human, he understood things in the same terms as the rest ofhumanity at that time in history. While he had power to heal, as well as powerover the elements, he may not have known—or cared to know—anything about atoms,DNA, viruses, or bacteria. He didn’t need that knowledge to see that a personwas sick, suffering, and in need of healing. We can spend a lot of timethinking about what Jesus could have known—whether he could have dippedinto his infinite knowledge as God and seen the reality that we know today, orwe can focus on whether or not that knowledge would have made any difference inwhat Jesus did or said.

Juust picture it: asick person is brought to Jesus, and he starts out by telling everyone thatthis person just had a transient ischemia attack or is suffering from a Norovirus infection! That would have made no sense; it would have confused everyone and turnedthem away from the message that Jesus was bringing; and—most importantly—it would nothave changed anything about what Jesus did to help the person.

The second way to look at Jesus and demons isto focus on something that Paul said in our Epistle today: “To the weak I became weak, so that Imight win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by allmeans save some.” [I Corinthians 9:22]

Jesus accepted everyone, justwhere they were, who they were, and what they understood. He became all thingsto all people in order to save them. Saving them did not require that he debatewith them about whether demons really existed or not, or that he explain thetrue scientific cause of any apparent illness. It just required that he lovethem, that he care about them, that he heal them. And that’s what he did. Sowhat if they thought he was casting out a demon. So what if demons neverexisted? Would that have changed Jesus’ love for all of us or his desire orability to heal us? Of course not!

Like Saint Paul, perhapsJesus just accepted that people had certain beliefs and then worked with thosebeliefs, without correcting them, with the only goal in mind being to make theperson whole, healed, redeemed. Perhaps Jesus only saw a person who was weigheddown with sin, cut off from healthy relationships, lost in a crowd of peoplewho didn’t understand or care. Jesus only wanted to help, to heal, to save.

The second big question fromtoday’s Gospel lesson is more important to us today: is there really any suchthing as a demon?

The closest modern Americanscome to talking about demons is often in a phrase such as “he is being chasedby his own personal demons.” What that phrase means is that a person isbothered—mentally and often also physically—by things in the person’s life thatare not right, not healthy, not good for him or her. These kinds ofafflictions, emotion or bodily, can really take over a person’s life. They canbecome almost the only thing that the person thinks about. They can ruin everyday, every relationship, every chance of happiness. They don’t require theexistence of a devil, or Satan, or fallen angels, or the forces of darkness inorder to hurt and destroy people and their lives.

Do evil spirits exist today?Do they attack and try to take over people’s minds and bodies? I don’t know,but I don’t think so. However, I do believe that demons and devils are both unnecessaryand no excuse.

My main reason for believing thatsuch things are unnecessary is that we humans freely choose to allow our mindsand actions to be taken over by all kinds of evil—addictions, destructiverelationships, unhealthy behaviors. We don’t need some outside force to blamefor what happens to us. But this doesn’t mean that evil doesn’t exist—it does,and we have a name for it: SIN. Blaming evil on forces outside us lets us offthe hook for acknowledging our own sinful nature.

That’s why I also believethat demons are not an excuse. We cannot blame our bad acts on temptations andspirits that force us to sin (think of Flip Wilson’s “the devil made me do it!”).It may be possible that there is some kind of evil power in the universe, but Idon’t think we have to look much further, most of the time, than our mirrors. Mostof what we do wrong is the result of our own actions, and we must takeresponsibility for our bondage to sin.

That is why—as we prayed inour Collect today—we ask to be freed from the bondage of our sins, to be liberatedfrom our slavery to evil and wrong, to be freed from the tyranny of ourpersonal demons, and to be given instead “the liberty of that abundant lifewhich [God] has made known to us in our Savior Jesus Christ.” Amen!

All hail the power of Jesus' Name!

2011-12-31T09:42:00.002-05:00

Feast of the Holy Name of our Lord JesusChrist

(formerlyFeast of the Circumcision)

January 1, 2012

What’s ina name? Shakespeare tells us, “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”[Romeo and Juliet,Act II, scene 2, paraphrased] In spite of this, Romeo and Juliet died because their last names were wrong.Names must be important: wedon’t like it when people forget our names or don’t bother to learn them, and noone likes to be called “hey, you!”

Today, wecelebrate the Holy Name of Jesus. Thisis the only celebration on our church calendar that isn’t about a person or anevent (although it used to be about the event of Jesus’ circumcision on the eight day of his life).

Genesischapter 4, verse 26 describes the first use of God’s Name: “To Seth also a son was born, and he named him Enosh. At thattime people began to invoke the name of the Lord.”

Throughoutthe early history of the Hebrew people, their God didn’t have a name. He wasjust referred to as “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” It wasn’t until thetime of Moses that God revealed a specific name. When God spoke to Mosesthrough the burning bush, Moses asked, “if I go to the Israelites and say tothem, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What ishis name?' Then what shall I tell them?" And God answered, “tell them thatYAHWEH sent you.” [Exodus313-14] YAHWEH (יְהוָה֙) is the Hebrew name of God, and it means “I AM” or “I AM WHO IAM.”¹

In Egypt,where the Hebrews were slaves, all the gods had names – Isis, Osiris, and soon. So, it’s natural that the people expected that their God would have a namelike that. “I AM” may have been God’s way of saying, “I’m not like the othergods—I am real, I am your God, and I am going to take care of you.”

The ThirdCommandment tells us not to take the Name of the Lord in vain. [Exodus 20:7 & Deuteronomy 5:11]Many peoplemistakenly interpret this as a law against using the word “God” in profanity,but it is much more. It is a commandment that says, “do not swear to anythingin the Lord’s name unless you are telling the truth.” It is about saying “sohelp me God” in oaths and solemn vows, not about cursing. Nevertheless, using God’s Name or Jesus’ Namein profanity is universally considered wrong by Christians, whether it isforbidden in the Ten Commandments or not.

When theHebrew people came to live in the land of Israel, they honored God’s Name intheir worship: “O give thanks to the Lord, call on his name, make known his deeds among the peoples.Sing to him, sing praises to him, tell of all his wonderful works. Glory in hisholy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lordrejoice.” [I Chronicles 16:8-10]

We honorthe Name of Jesus in the same way. But what is Jesus’ “real name?”

TheEnglish name, “Jesus,” is based on a word that is the same in both Latin andGreek: IESUS (Ἰησοῦς). DidJesus speak Latin or Greek? He lived in Galilee, a Roman province, so he mayhave understood at least some of the Latin spoken by the army officers andgovernment officials there. Most of the merchants and traders throughout the Romanworld used Greek as their common language. As a carpenter, Jesus may haveneeded to use Greek in his business. But the Gospels offer no proof that Jesusever spoke Latin or Greek, so there is no confirmation that anyone ever calledhim IESUS, either.

At homeand with his friends, Jesus spoke the language called Aramaic, and the namethat people called him in Aramaic was “Yeshua.” Following the custom of Jewsat that time, his full name was Yeshua bar Yosef (“son of Joseph” inAramaic).

Yeshua is the Aramaicversion of the Hebrew name, Yehoshua, the name that we translateinto English as “Joshua.” Thus, on the day of his circumcision, which weremember today, the son of Mary and Joseph was actually named after the great herowho led the Hebrew people across the River Jordan and into the Promised Landafter they had spent 40 years wandering in the desert. [Joshua 1:1-2 & chapter 3] It was animpressive name, and one full of meaning: Jesus, Joshua, IESUS, Yeshua, and Yehoshua all mean the samething: “savior” or “deliverer.”

Whatabout “Christ?” It is not Jesus’ last name; it is a title. The Greek word christos(Χριστός) is the same as theHebrew word mashiach (מָשִׁיחַ), or Messiah. Both words mean “the anointed One.” Fullytranslated, Jesus’ Name is “the Savior, the Anointed One.”

All thisbrings us closer to an understanding of what Jesus’ Name is, but why do we sayit is “holy?” In Philippians, chapter 2, Paul quoted an early Christian hymn ofhonor to Jesus:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,who,

“though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God

as something to beexploited,

but emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.

And being found in human form,

he humbled himself and became

obedient to the pointof death—

even death on a cross.

Therefore God also highly exalted him

and gave him the name

that is above every name,

so that at the name of Jesus

every kneeshould bend,

in heaven and on earth

and under the earth,

and every tongue should confess

that Jesus Christ isLord,

to the glory of God the Father.”

[Philippians 2:5-11]

You may havenoticed that some Christians bow their heads whenever the Name of Jesus ismentioned in worship. This custom is a direct response to this verse from Philippians.Why such honor for the Name of Jesus?

Jesus’ Nameis HOLY. It is like God’s sacred Name, except that Christians are allowed tospeak it. In fact, we want to shout it from the mountain-tops!

Jesus’ Nameis POWERFUL. If we turn from our wicked ways and proclaim that Jesus is Lord,God will forgive us our sins and save us from the punishment that we deserve [II Chronicles 7:14]. We can proclaimwith the well-known hymn, “all hail the power of Jesus’ Name!” [words by Edward Perronet (1726-1792)]

Jesus’name is COMFORTING. As a hymn written by John Newton reminds us,

How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds in a believer’s ear; it soothes our sorrows, heals our wounds, and drives away our fear.

And so,we celebrate the HOLY NAME OF JESUS today. We do this because his name issacred, because it is our source of comfort and strength, and because itpossesses the power to conquer sin and death.

Let us rememberto keep this Name holy, to call upon it whenever we need it, and to respect theway it has been cherished and honored by all the generations before us.

In hisHoly Name, let us say, Amen!

¹NOTE: The little dots that you see under the Hebrew letters have created amajor confusion. Because the word YAHWEH was too sacred to pronounce out loud, Jewsdeveloped the habit of saying “Adonai” (“the Lord”) whenever the text said “YAHWEH.”To remind them to do this, the vowel sounds of Adonai were written under theconsonants of YAHWEH (Hebrew does not have letters in its alphabet for mostvowel sounds, so they were added later as reminders below and sometimes above theconsonants.) During the Reformation, some German Protestant translators mistakenlyadded the vowels of Adonai (E-O-A in Hebrew) to the consonants of YAHWEH (J-H-V-H—becausein German, the sound of Y in English is made by the letter J, and W is pronounced like the English V) and coined a
brand-new word that was never actually used as God’s Name: Jehovah. [For a more detailed explanation see here.]

Whatever you did...

2011-11-19T09:57:00.001-05:00

Feast of Christ the King (Last Sunday afterPentecost)
Matthew 25:31-46

Today’s readingfrom the Gospel of Matthew is the only place in the entire Bible where the Jesustalks about the Last Judgment. It may seem strange that Jesus never mentioned sucha momentous event anywhere else, but that is the fact – only Matthew’s Gospeltalks about it, and only in these 16 verses.

And what happensat the Last Judgment, as Jesus portrays it? Are people punished for every kindof sin? Is there a distinction between red states and blue states, between richand poor, between those who believe in gay marriage and those who oppose it?No!

The only basis onwhich Jesus says we are to be judged is in this simple statement that Jesusgives us: whatever you did or did not do to “one of the least of these who aremembers of my family” you did or did not do to Jesus. [Matthew 25:40 & 45]

Let’s say thatagain: we will be judged on what we did or did not do to the least among us.Nothing else. There is no reward for holding the right set of religiousbeliefs, the proper morality, the correct theology, for being on thetraditional, conservative, radical, or liberal sides of any question.

Now, I wouldnever attempt to “boil down” the entire Gospel of Jesus to this one statement,and I don’t think that this is the only thing that Christians should do. But I dorecognize that it was important enough for Jesus and Matthew to specificallydescribe what is expected of Christians. I also think that we are wasting a lotof time and squandering our salvation by fussing and fighting over things thatdo not matter in the end. The only thing that really counts is what we who callourselves followers of Jesus do to one another, and for one another –especially for those who are “least” among us.

Two weeks ago, weheard the Beatitudes, also from the Gospel of Matthew. In them, Jesus said alot of folks were blessed, but he didn’t list any of the people who are miredin conflicts of one kind or another today. Instead, he only talked about thepoor, the meek, the hungry, the thirsty, and so on. Jesus was telling us whatto do – in order to do for him – by doing for the least.

I don’t knowabout you, but this is both reassuring and frightening for me. I don’t gothrough life worrying about what will happen to me in the Last Judgment, butperhaps I should – and so should we all.

Christianity hasbecome extremely complicated over the centuries. What started out as a fewsimple principles – Jesus is the Son of God, he came to save us, he died androse from the dead, we are saved by believing in him – has gotten very complex.Almost from the very beginning, Christians got deeply involved in fighting withone another about the “details.” The first big division was over the questionof whether a person had to be a Jew first, before they could become aChristian, meaning that those who weren’t Jews had to be circumcised and onlyeat kosher food, and so forth.

Not long afterthat, other divisions arose. By the time that Christianity became the majorityreligion in the Roman Empire, bishops were excommunicating each other over themechanics of how Jesus could be both God and man, which books belonged in theBible and which ones didn’t, the proper title for Mary, and how the Holy Spiritfit into the Trinity – among many other things.

It seems thatpeople lost touch with Jesus’ words in Matthew’s Gospel: whatever you do – ordon’t do – to these, you do – or don’t do – to me.

So when someonerejects another because that other person doesn’t hold the same beliefs aboutthe Trinity, or because that person’s theology doesn’t match the majority, orbecause that person has a different take on marriage or ordination, that personis actually rejecting Jesus. It’s that simple.

Jesus brings thisright down to the most basic level: I was hungry, I was thirsty, I was astranger, I was naked, I was sick, I was in prison. These situations describethe most helpless among us, those whom we might be tempted to blame for their ownfate, or to avoid because they don’t come from “proper society.” And to do thatwould be to fall right into the trap that our own foolishness sets for us.

Now, don’t get mewrong. A lot of the controversies we face today can be drilled down to ourrelationships with one another. When we take a stand on gay marriage, we couldbe putting one interpretation of scripture above the needs and feelings of someof the least among us – those rejected by a powerful majority that finds theirorientation unsettling. When we decide what we believe about abortion, we couldbe forgetting to think about those among us who are directly affected: thewoman and child involved. These are not moral or theological issues, so much asthey are issues of how we treat others – and through them, Jesus.

One of the thingsthat I notice in Jesus’ list of people who were helped and rejected is thatthere is no value judgment applied to any of them. Those who were hungry,thirsty, naked, and so on could all be saints or sinners – and they were probablyboth at the same time.

Imagine, if youwill, that we could see the face of Jesus on every gay person who wants to getmarried, every woman who wants to have an abortion, every unborn baby that diesin an abortion. What, then, would we say? I don’t know if our response would bedifferent or not, but I think it would say a lot about us if we could stop andpicture Jesus in others more often.

We might come to thesame conclusions that we hold today. We might not behave any differently in thelong run, but we would be doing so for the “right” reasons, instead of foremotional, intellectual, or political ones. I can’t imagine that we would feelit was pleasing to Jesus for us to say to a hungry person, “go get a job, soyou can buy something to eat,” or to a naked person, “you should be ashamed ofyourself, go put on some clothes.”

This is a briefpicture that Matthew gives us of the Last Judgment. I am not surprised that no otherGospel tackled describing it. But I am also amazed at how simple the decisionis: either we did to others what Jesus expected, or we didn’t. There is nodefense, no extenuating circumstance, no excuse for failing. Thank God,there is mercy and forgiveness, but knowing that our sins will be forgiven isnever an excuse for committing them without regard for the consequences.

I don’t knowabout you, but the next time I see a person who is hungry, thirsty, homeless,rejected, I will look at that person differently. I will try my best to do whatwe all promised in our Baptismal Covenant: to seek and serve Christ in allpeople. “Seeking” means “looking for and seeing” Christ in everyone, andserving Christ our King means serving our brothers and sisters as best we areable. May God give us the grace to do this. Amen!

What Does God Expect of Us?

2011-11-14T16:57:00.001-05:00

The Parable of the Talents
Matthew 25:14-30

Thefirst thing that we need to address in this parable is “what is a talent, andhow much was it worth?” I went to Wikipedia for answers. The talent, or tálanton, was a Greek measureof mass, like a pound or a kilogram. In various cultures using it, the weightof a talent varied between 57 and 71 pounds. In Judea of Jesus’ time, however, itwas quite a bit heavier – it weighed 130 pounds. A talent of something wasalways valuable, but a talent of gold or silver, which was used as money, wasextremely so. In today’s inflated world economy, 130 pounds of gold is worth morethan $3.7 million! Even in Jesus’ time, it was a lot of money. It wasapproximately nine years’ salary for an ordinary workingman, or enough to payan entire ship’s crew for one month. Finally, because of this parable, the word“talent” came to mean a skill or an ability in our language.

Butlet’s not allow the use of this word, or the great value of a tálanton, to distract us fromthe message of Jesus. This parable is, after all, the last that we will hear inthis Year A of the Revised CommonLectionary. It is, in a sense, the last word of Jesus for us this churchyear (because we celebrate the Kingship of Christ next Sunday).

Intelling this parable, our Lord was emphasizing the responsibility of every Christianto “be all that you can be” as the U.S. Army used to say. I want to be veryclear about one thing: Jesus was not glorifying the making of profits or ofdoubling your money. This parable is not about being a good investor, except tothe extent that we invest ourselves into what we do.

That’sanother interesting word: “invest.” Just what does it mean?

Investcomes from Latin investire, which means “toclothe” – to put on clothing, raiment, fine array. Similar words include “vestibule”– a place where clothing is put on and taken off, and “vesture” – a word forfine clothing. Another meaning comes to us from French investir, which describessurrounding an enemy with ships or troops to prevent escape. I am reminded ofSt Paul’s words in today’s Epistle: let us put on “the breastplate of faith andlove, and for a helmet the hope of salvation.” [I Thessalonians 5:8] Paul admonishes us to clothe ourselvesproperly in order to do God’s work in the world and to surround people with God’slove.

Let’stie these ideas together. Jesus speaks of a king who entrusted hisservants/slaves with talents and then left them on their own. Upon the king’sreturn, he rewarded the servants who had invested and produced something withtheir talents, and he punished the servant who did nothing except keep thetalent “safe.” What is the context for this parable?

Inthe Gospel of Matthew, which we often refer to as being written for (and by)the Jewish Christian community in and around Jerusalem, the theme is oftensomething that is particular to that culture. Without suggesting any kind ofstereotype or prejudice, let us just say that the idea of making money byinvesting it was familiar to Matthew’s audience, whether they were Jewish,Roman, Egyptian, or Greek. It is not a novel idea – many of our most troubling issuestoday are related to people desiring to make a lot of money.

Thisparable contains characters and concepts that were undoubtedly important in Matthew’stime, but it also provides a message and meaning that only those “on the inside”would fully understand. We have a rich king who entrusts his wealth toservants. We have two servants who fully understand what the king expects ofthem – namely, to increase his wealth. One servant apparently is more trustworthyor has a longer history of success, because the king gives him five talents($17 million or thereabouts). The second gets two talents, and the last onlyone. Right away, we might suspect that the king does not have a lot ofconfidence in this last servant, because he is not given much to work with. The“insiders” – the Jewish-Christian community to whom Matthew wrote – sawthemselves as entrusted with a great treasure (the Gospel) and expected to beheld to account for how they invested/planted/spread it when the King returned.

Whatabout you and me? How much has God given us to work with? Does that in any wayreflect the amount of love that God has for each of us, or the degree to which Godbelieves that we will work for the kingdom? I don’t think so.

WhenI think about myself, if I am honest, I recognize that there are a few thingsthat I do well and many more that I do poorly or not at all. In this parable, Ifirst get the impression that it’s not important how many talents God has givenme, but rather how I use them. Even if I have only one talent, that’s not anindication that God doesn’t have high expectations of me. On the contrary, I thinkthat it means that I am expected to do just as much with my one little talent asa person with many, many more.

Settingaside the “editorial comment” about the servant with only one talent beinglazy, or that he should have entrusted it to “the bankers” (not a popular ideatoday), we can still see one clear point: whatwe have comes from God, and for a reason. That reason is not so that we canenjoy ourselves and live wealthy lives. Rather, God gives each of us gifts thatare meant to be shared with everyone around us.

Ioften find it helpful to think about God in the same terms that I think abouthuman parents, who love all of their children but also see realistically whatthey should expect from each unique child. God gives us challenges. Sometimes thesecome in the form of unpleasant situations, but other times they come in the formof unexpected joy or success. In these latter cases, it is most important to keepa certain perspective. It is fine to rejoice and be happy that God has given ussomething wonderful. It is also fine to use it, to enjoy it, and to give thanksto God for giving it to us. However, we must not stop there. We must askourselves a few questions: why did God give me this? what am I expected to dowith it? how can I use this in ways that God intended? It is these kinds ofquestions that would have led the last servant to be more thoughtful about how heused the talent that the king left him.

Themany layers of meaning in this parable are easily fuel for many hours ofthought and reflection, but focusing our attention on the word “talent” and theuse that it came to have in English should help us drive down deeply into themessage that God wants us to learn.

Wehave a responsibility to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to love ourneighbor as ourselves, to strive for justice and peace among all people, torespect the dignity of every human being. [BaptismalVows, The Book of Common Prayer 1979, pp 291-292] We may not have a lot of resources (or we mayhave many), but the point is that it is our duty to use them as God intends,for God’s purposes. This is a good and important message for us to hear, nowthat we are near the end of another church year. May we take it to heart, andmay our King give us the grace to invest wisely and multiply our talents, allin the service of the kingdom and our fellow creatures. Amen!

What Happens When We Die?

2011-11-02T11:30:00.000-04:00

The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Souls' Day)

November 2

What happens when we die? It’s a great mystery, but you would think that it had been settled a long time ago. Didn’t Jesus explain everything? Well, yes and no. He made the promise of everlasting life very clear, but he wasn’t so clear about all the details. For that reason, sincere Christians have been wondering about it ever since.

If I may be so bold as to try to summarize a very complex and contentious subject, there are three major categories of questions about the subject of eternal life. They are (1) when does eternal life begin? (2) who receives eternal life? and (3) what happens to everyone who doesn’t believe in God and Christ?

When does eternal life begin? The Scriptures are not clear on this. It appears that Jesus hinted that it would begin very soon, perhaps as soon as he ascended into heaven (see today’s Gospel, John 5:24-25), but this may be the interpretation of the apostles and early Christians, more than anything definite that Jesus actually said.

Saint Paul seems to believe (I Thessalonians 4:13-17 & I Corinthians 15:51-52) that we all fall asleep when we die. Then, no matter how much or how little time passes, when the resurrection of the dead occurs, it will look to us like it’s only been a moment since we went to sleep. In other words, there is no heaven for anyone yet.

Who receives eternal life? A corollary to this is: is the opposite of heaven hell or eternal death? In today’s Gospel, Jesus says, “anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life.” [John 5:24] Thus, it would seem that hearing and believing are all it takes. But what does that mean? How does one hear Jesus’ word? Is reading it in the Bible enough? What about those who never have the opportunity to hear the word? Are they automatically excluded? And what about believing? Does it mean once, at the moment that we hear the word, or forever thereafter? And what happens if we have moments when we aren’t sure we believe? If we happen to die in one of those moments, do we not have eternal life?

Is eternal life the same thing as heaven? Don’t people in hell also live forever, just in torment and misery? Is the opposite of eternal life simply that when those people die, everything is over for them? The New Testament has evidence on both sides of this question. John 3:16, one of the most quoted verses in the Bible, seems to say that there are two options: either you die or you have everlasting life. On the other hand, Revelation 20:15 says “whoever was not found written in the Book of Life was cast into the lake of fire” along with the devil and the evil prophet (the Antichirst). Thus, eternal life may not be what Jesus was promising, but rather eternal life spent in a pleasant place instead of a lake of fire.

What happens to those who hear the word of Jesus but still don’t believe in God and Christ? We have to begin by acknowledging that God can do anything God wants, all the way from absolutely rejecting anyone who isn’t a Christian, right up to automatically making everyone a Christian the moment they die. In between, we have God’s love and mercy to consider, as well as the many mansions that Jesus says are in his Father’s house [John 14:2].

What does all this say about the God in whom we believe? Do we believe in a judge for whom everything is black and white – either you believe or you don’t, either you’re saved or you’re not, either you live forever or you die forever?

This is by no means an exhaustive or even careful treatment of this difficult subject. In fact, there is an entire branch of theology called eschatology, which deals with the “last things” such as heaven, hell, resurrection, and eternal life.

On this day when we remember the souls of all the faithful departed (or is it all the departed, faithful and otherwise?), does it really matter what happens, when, and to whom? What is the real message of Christianity on this special feast day?

When I read, “the souls of the righteous are in the hands of God” [Wisdom of Solomon 3:1], I think it must be that God’s love is all-powerful and eternal, that God created each of us in order that we might know and love God, and that if we do that, God takes care of the rest, whether we understand how it works or not.

I prefer to focus on the positive things that we believe and to view the less inclusive things as products of a nascent Christianity that was trying to differentiate itself from its ancestors and its competition, as well as to offer its members hope and assurance in troubled times.

Like most people, I do not know for certain what will happen when I close my eyes for the last time. As Paul said, if we know something, it’s not a matter of faith: “we see through a glass, darkly” [I Corinthians 13:12a]. Faith is needed for those things that we cannot know, despite what some of our Christian brothers and sisters might insist is knowable.

Instead of insisting on knowledge and certainty, I turn to faith and trust. I know that God loves me, everything else I believe, because I know that one thing. When I look for specific details, I find very few, but that doesn’t surprise me. I have no right to demand to know now, but one day all will be revealed (“but then I shall know even as I am known” [I Corinthians 13:12b].

And you know what? When that day comes I probably won’t care any more, because being with God forever is better than anything we might know or wish to have explained. I have a strong feeling that no one actually goes up to God and asks questions. It simply doesn’t matter to them any more.

So we pray for the dead, and we ask them to pray for us. Our community of faith includes the Church here on earth and the Church that is with God, whether right now or at some time in the future. On this All Souls’ Day, let us remember Jesus’ words in John 5:25 – “the hour is coming, and is now here” – both – when we will all hear the voice of the Son of God and live. Who needs more than that?

Those who trust in him will understand truth,
and the faithful will abide with him in love,
because grace and mercy are upon his holy ones,
and he watches over his elect. [Wisdom of Solomon 3:9]^*

Where Is Your Mountain?

2011-10-30T16:48:00.000-04:00

Feast of All Saints

November 1, 2011

I have a new friend who is a priest in the Anglican Church of New Zealand. He is a member of the Māori, the people who were living in the land of Aotearoa, as they name it, when the first British ships arrived in 1642. When he introduces himself to non-native people, he says, “Hello, my name is ...” But when he introduces himself to a member of his own people, he says something very different:

My mountain is Wharepuhunga.

My river is Mangaorua.

My ancestral canoe is Tanui.

My tribe is the people of Raukawa.

My family are Ngati Huri.

Our ancestral house is Huri.

He recently wrote to me about this special form of introduction, and I’d like to share some of the reasons behind it with you:

For me, this is how I introduce myself. My name is not what is important, nor is anything that I may amount to; for I am only here by the grace of God and the work of my ancestors. By introducing myself in this fashion I tell people who I am without mentioning my name. As I do this, I unfold a theology that is based on geography—on physical facets of the land.

The Māori word for land is whenua. This word has other meanings, namely that of the placenta which feeds and sustains an unborn child. In that light, land is not a commodity. It cannot be sold or treated as a possession. Land is sustenance; both physical and spiritual. My spiritual journey begins with my land. This is the land the sustained my ancestors, and the land that they have left in my temporary care. It is my duty to ensure that this land will sustain my children.

My mountain, Wharepuhunga, is a place of deep spiritual significance to me. From here you can see across that land that has shaped my being. In Matthew chapter five, we read of the Sermon on the Mount—a sermon that declares that among the meek, the merciful, the poor in spirit, the pure in heart, are blessed children of God. This important event happened on a mountain. While many scholars seek to understand the meaning of Jesus’ words, I seek to understand His choice of location. An obvious point is that He went up the mountain to be seen; which may seem a simple thought and gesture. But there are deeper implications of revealing oneself, of being seen. My mountain serves as a revealing symbol of my people, and it also reveals who I am. I think, in Jesus’ simple action of going up a mountain, we can begin to explore why He was concerned with ensuring He could be seen and heard.

As my mountain stands proudly as a symbol of my people, so too does my faith in Jesus Christ. [excerpt from an email received from my new friend]

On this All Saints Day, we hear the reading of Matthew’s version of Jesus’ preaching, which we call the Sermon on the Mount. Every time I have ever preached about this passage, I have concentrated on the words that Jesus spoke, their meaning, and their application to our lives today. I will still do that somewhat, but my new friend's words have drawn me to focus our attention this time, not so much on Jesus’ words, but on his location—on a mountain.

I have lived in the Allegheny or Appalachian Mountains for almost 20 years. I grew up in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains. I think I have always been drawn to mountains as a special place—one where I feel most at home. I love the ocean and enjoy every visit, but I cannot see myself ever living there permanently. The mountains call to me; they feel right to me.

A mountain is a special place for me. As my friend says, “you can see across that land that has shaped [your] being.” Jesus “went up the mountain to be seen; which may seem a simple thought and gesture. But there are deeper implications of revealing oneself, of being seen.” Many events in salvation history have taken place on mountain-tops. Abraham took Isaac up a mountain, thinking that God wanted him to sacrifice his son there. Isaiah hid in the cleft of a mountain as God the Omnipotent passed by. Moses met Yahweh in the burning bush on a mountain. He later received the Law from God on Mount Sinai. David and Solomon build God’s Temple on Mount Zion. Satan took Jesus to the top of a “very high mountain” [Matthew 4:8] and showed him all the kingdoms of the earth in order to tempt him. Jesus in turn took Peter, James, and John to a mountaintop where they witnessed his Transfiguration. And Jesus was crucified for us on the mount called Golgotha.

It is no surprise then, that Jesus would go up a mountain in order to teach this important lesson to his followers. From the mountainside, all could see farther and better than when they were down below. One of the things that I most love to do at my home in the mountains is to stand on my deck in the morning and watch the light arrive in the valley below. It starts at the top of the mountains on the opposite side, revealing the trees and rocks. It creeps slowly but surely down the slope, shining God’s light on everything. Finally, it fills the valley and begins to warm and nourish all living things.

God’s light and love work a lot like that, too. That’s why I like to be on the mountaintop to experience it. Then I can carry it down as I go, deeper into a world of woe and sorrow.

Jesus’ words took a similar path. Looking out at the crowd that had followed him up that mountain, he saw their suffering and felt their pain—and he told them, “Blessed are you poor in spirit; and you who mourn. Blessed are you who are meek, who hunger and thirst for God’s righteousness. All who are merciful, peacemakers, and pure in heart—you, too, are blessed. And blessed will you all be when people persecute you and revile you for your faith in Jesus.” [Matthew 5:3-10, paraphrased]

How could Jesus promise such things? Was it because, from his vantage-point on the mountaintop, he could see more clearly than we who are stuck in the mire at the bottom? Could he rise above the things that distract us, the pettiness, the jealousy, the fear, the discrimination—and teach us to do likewise?

The Māori people have always had a close association with mountains; as my friend's words show, each has his own “family mountain.” It grounds and roots him in his personal history and the history of his people. In the same way, we all have the mountain on which Jesus preached. It roots us in the truth of our faith, whenever we face opposition and even death. It grounds us in the long history of our brothers and sisters in Christ, going all the way back to Jesus’ very words. It raises us up so that we can see above the things that seem to separate us from the love of Christ – which Paul assures us can never really happen.

But we can’t stay up on the mountain and hide. We go there as much to be seen as to be refreshed. A lamp on a stand shines brightly; one hidden under a bushel basket is wasted. [see Matthew 5:15-16] Jesus didn’t preach there on that mountain and then never leave. He used his time on the mountain to fortify himself and his followers, and then he led them back down into the “real world” where there was much work to do.

With all the saints, you and I can enjoy our time alone with Jesus, our breaks from the challenges and struggles of this world, including poverty, mourning, feelings of powerlessness, the hunger and thirst for righteousness that seems to never be fulfilled, and the persecution and rejection of ourselves, our faith, and our values by a secular, selfish world. But that is not where Jesus stayed, nor can we. Saints and sinners, we must live in the world and bring the light of Christ to it. Until we “from our labors rest,” [The Hymnal 1982, #287, vs. 1] we must do the work that God has given us to do. And we know that we are not alone. We are knit together “in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of [God’s] Son Jesus Christ our Lord.” [The Book of Common Prayer, Collect for All Saints Day]

May God continue to give us mountains of our own – places where we feel inspired and connected to God and one another, places that we call home, and places from which we can be seen and go forth to love and serve the Lord, and God’s people.

Amen!

The Rule of Christ

2011-09-03T18:57:00.000-04:00

Year A + Proper 18 (RCL)

Matthew 18:15-20

Radio and television preachers are a lot like politicians – they think they have to say what their audience wants to hear, or they will lose their ratings (and their jobs). That makes it easy for them to stake out a position and dig in their heels. They hope that, in so doing, a majority of their listeners will support them (and keep sending money).

Jesus was the opposite of this. He never hesitated to tell people things that they did not want to hear. Today’s gospel is a good example. The Jewish laws of justice, retribution, and compensation were very elaborate and clear. If you offended someone or harmed them in some way, you had to pay a specific price in order to make amends.

In some denominations, such as the Old Order Amish and Mennonites, a person who violates the sense of the community, and refuses to repent, is shunned – not only denied membership in the community, but actually considered dead. Roman Catholic canon law required a similar punishment as the most extreme form of excommunication until 1983.

Today’s passage from the Gospel of Matthew has sometimes been used to justify this practice, or others less severe but just as one-sided.

The fundamental question for us is this: was Jesus telling us that some members of the church could or should be kicked out? If so, what are the criteria for deciding when to do this, and for determining which party to a dispute is in the wrong?

The Rule of Christ, as this passage is often called, is actually focused on setting things right, not triumphing over an adversary.

It rests on a foundation of reconciliation and caring about the welfare of the person who has offended. In addition, Jesus is more interested in the health of the community, the ecclesia (Greek for “assembly” or “church”) than that of any one person – and that includes both the offender and the offended.

Discipleship entails sacrifice. Jesus told his followers to give up almost everything, to go out without money or food, to take only enough clothing to get by. Their mission was not to live comfortably, but to bring the Good News of the Kingdom to one and all.

But Jesus was also a realist. When he sent the disciples out two by two, he gave them permission to accept that, sometimes, their message would not be received. In those cases – and he must have expected the disciples to try everything possible before using this recourse – they were to simply walk away. Shaking the dust off their sandals was not meant to be an expression of disgust or rejection of those who would not receive the word. Rather, it was a way of saying, “get rid of everything that you are feeling about this situation; just put it behind you and learn from it.”

In the same way, the last recourse in Jesus’ Rule is that the person who has offended and utterly resisted change should be treated in a particular way: “as an outsider (Gentile, non-Jew) and a person you don’t want to associate with (tax collector).” [Matthew 18:17 ] That may seem harsher than all the rest of what Jesus has been saying, so let’s look at it closely.

How did Jesus himself treat Gentiles and tax collectors? Earlier in the Gospel of Matthew, we find one example. A Canaanite woman asked Jesus to heal her daughter. At first, Jesus said “it is not right to give the food for the children to the dogs.” [Matthew 15:21-28] It seems that he was calling her a dog and reflecting the commonly-held view of Jews of his day – that they were superior to the Gentiles. However, that did not last more than a few seconds. Jesus ended up by praising the mother (“Woman, great is your faith.” [Matthew 15:28]) and healing her daughter.

If we look closely, we see that Jesus’ relationship with Gentiles and tax collectors consisted of three things. First, he reached out to them. He went to where they were; he associated with them (though doing so sometimes violated Kosher laws); he even dined with them. In no way can we find a single example where Jesus kicked them out of his company, sent them away, or otherwise rejected them. What about tax collectors? Jesus not only associated with them, he called at least one to be a member of his inner circle.

It sometimes seems that those who say “what would Jesus do?” are people who are not really asking a question at all – they have already made up their minds, and guess what? – according to them, Jesus would do exactly what they have decided to do! If we want to know what Jesus would do in cases where a person just won’t change his opinion or make amends, we have only to look at the gospels. The only people whom Jesus rejected were the “church people” of his day – the scribes and Pharisees, the people that society assumed were the “correct” ones.

So, let’s summarize the theology of this passage from Matthew. First, the emphasis is on working out a difference for the good of the whole community. Rather than publicly disputing or accusing, the two parties are expected to meet privately and try to work things out.

If that doesn’t work, a small number of others, presumably people who are respected by both parties or who are particularly objective or good at resolving disputes, are brought in.

If that, too, fails, then the matter is brought before the whole ecclesia. Once again, the emphasis is on healing the entire community, not purging it of bad influences. The crux of Jesus’ teaching is that, if despite all this, the parties to the dispute will not agree, then they are to be treated like the very people to whom Jesus reached out the most often – Gentiles and tax collectors. The ecclesia’s response must be to eat with them, to be involved in their lives, to continue to offer them the promise of the Kingdom, and to offer them the opportunity to repent and change, seventy times seven times and more.

The clearest indication of the true meaning of this isolated passage comes when we look at what came immediately before it, and what follows it.

Matthew 18:10-14 is the parable of the Lost Sheep, in which Jesus says “If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray?” [Matthew 18:12] Can there be any way to read this and conclude that a community is permitted to abandon a lost sheep?

Matthew 18:21-22, which immediately follows our passage today is the brief scene in which Peter asks Jesus how many times he has to forgive his neighbor. We all know what Jesus’ answer to that was!

Taken in context, and looking closely at the fate of the offender as described by Jesus, we can see that, rather than shunning or rejecting those with whom we disagree, we are actually called to forgive without limit, to work to bring back the lost sheep, and to treat that person as a very special member of God’s Kingdom.

And why in the world should we do this?

Because we realize how easy it would be for one of us to be that lost sheep, and because we have already been taught that we will be forgiven only as much as we ourselves are willing to forgive. Amen!

The Feast of Mary

2011-08-17T10:40:00.000-04:00

The Feast of St Mary the Virgin

August 15, 2011

One way to look at our celebration today is to consider how various Christian denominations view the Mother of Jesus.

In our Episcopal Church, we express our faith regarding Mary in today’s Collect:

O God, you have taken to yourself the blessed Virgin Mary,

mother of your incarnate Son:

Grant that we, who have been redeemed by his blood,

may share with her the glory of your eternal kingdom…

That is, we refer to Mary as “blessed” and “Virgin” and as the mother of God’s incarnate Son, Jesus. We note that God has taken Mary to himself (more on that in a moment), and we ask only that we may share the glory of God’s eternal kingdom along with Mary, and all other Christians. As in all of our prayers relating to the saints, we do not ask Mary to do anything, we do not pray to her, and we do not ascribe to her any powers other than those that are evident from Scriptures. Our focus is on Mary’s Son, our incarnate Lord and Redeemer.

But why do we say, “you have taken to yourself the blessed Virgin Mary?” This has to do with an important concept from Christian theological history.

For our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters, today is known as the feast of the Assumption of Mary. That is, it reflects the belief that, when Mary died, her dead body did not remain on this earth, but rather was taken up or “assumed” into heaven. Thus, there is no tomb of Mary anywhere on earth, and no shrine where anyone can visit her earthly remains.

This is a very early Christian belief, dating back to at least the fourth century. From the Scriptures, we only know that Mary lived a quiet life after the crucifixion and resurrection of her Son―remember that Jesus gave Mary into the care of the Apostle John in his words from the cross: “behold your mother.” [John 19:27] In the year 377, a bishop (Epiphanius of Salamis) declared that “no one knows whether Mary has died or not.” Many early Christian texts that did not become accepted as part of the New Testament include descriptions of events surrounding Mary’s death. At least in part because of these apocryphal writings, it is clear that many Christians believed specific things about the end of Mary’s life, including that she was taken, body and soul, into heaven.

This is not such an unusual idea. The Book of Genesis tells of a man named Enoch, the father of Methuselah. It says that Enoch “walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him.” [Genesis 5:24] The Jews believed that Enoch was taken to heaven so that he might not suffer the fate of mortal death.

Elijah, of whom we spoke only last week, also did not die, at least as it is recorded in the Bible. At the end of Elijah's life, he was taken away (to heaven), either in a fiery chariot or a whirlwind. [2 Kings 2:11]

And, of course, Jesus himself ascended into heaven 40 days after the Resurrection.

So, it is not unusual to believe that certain people, at the time of their deaths, did not remain bodily on earth, but rather that God took them, body and soul, to heaven. Did this happen to Mary? There is clearly a body of early Christian belief that it did, and in fact it has been an infallible dogma of the Catholic Church since 1950 (a little late, you might remark).

The Greek Orthodox Church has a similar concept, called the Dormition of Mary. It holds that Mary did not actually die, but only fell asleep, and was taken to heaven while sleeping. Unlike the Catholic Church, which believes that Mary died, the Orthodox belief is that this never happened.

These beliefs about Mary, ancient as they are, do not seem terribly important to us today. What actually happened to Mary is more a question of curiosity than of faith for most of us.

However, there is a down-side to this belief, if it is based on certain principles. Here is where the danger lies (it goes something like this): Mary became the Mother of God Incarnate; she held the most sacred entity in the universe inside her human body for nine months; God would not dwell in a sinful body, so Mary was preserved from Original Sin from the moment of her conception in the womb of her mother (the Immaculate Conception); because Mary did not bear the “stain” of Original Sin, her body could not suffer corruption (decay) – the penalty for mankind’s sinfulness; therefore, at her death, her body was taken away to heaven.

This thinking is rooted in the error of Dualism (the soul is pure and good, but the body is evil), and also the error of denying that Jesus was an ordinary, natural human being. Episcopalians do not accept the Roman Catholic concepts of Original Sin[1] or the Immaculate Conception of Mary (nor the Assumption, for that matter). We believe that she was an ordinary, although very holy, young woman, and that her Son was born an ordinary little boy (although remaining divine at the same time). It is not necessary for us to preserve Mary from the evil of the flesh or the sin of Adam, and it is not impossible for us to consider that God could dwell inside the body of an ordinary woman. It is not important for us to know what happened to her body when she died, because we know that her spirit is with God, enjoying eternal life.

All this may lead us to wonder why today is such a special day. Why is Mary important to us? Is she any more important than any other saint, such as Peter or Paul?

The answers to these questions lie in our understanding of the central role of mothers in human life and society. Each of us probably has a special relationship with a woman whom we see as our mother, whether biological or otherwise. We know the impact that this woman has had on us, and most of us would agree that a mother’s influence and love made a great difference in our lives.

Thus, we extrapolate that the mother of that very special little boy, Jesus, must have been a truly extraordinary woman. She watched over him, all the while knowing that he was brought into this world in an unusual way and would have a great mission to perform.

Mary does not need to have been conceived without sin, she does not need to be any different than every other woman ever born, in order to fulfill her role as the nurturing and guiding influence in Jesus’ earthly life. She also does not need to have been taken directly into heaven at her death (or falling asleep), in order to be remembered and loved by us for all the good that she did while she was living on earth or for the example that her life offers us as Christians.

Which brings us back around to our Collect for today. We recall Mary’s qualities of being blessed and a virgin, we honor her Incarnate Son, and we ask God to allow us to enjoy eternal life, even as Mary herself is doing. How, precisely, God took Mary to himself is not anything that we need to attach great importance to. Whether her body is actually still here somewhere on earth, or if it is truly gone to heaven forever, is not important to us. Remembering her life, her role in the salvation of all humankind, and following her example (as we do with all the saints) are the key reasons to celebrate her this day.

[1] See the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion, IX, The Book of Common Prayer (1979), page 869.

Where is God?

2011-08-07T16:15:00.000-04:00

Pentecost 8 + Proper 14

The Lessons are found here.

Where is God, when we need God?

In our readings today, Elijah and Peter give us two parts of the answer to this question.

Elijah thought he was doing God’s will, and doing the best he could. Just prior to today’s scene [I Kings 19:9-18], Elijah had taken on the entire cadre of the priests of Ba'al. For quite some time, he had opposed the idol worship that was gradually taking the place of worship of the God of Israel. He had preached, prophesied, and personally warned King Ahab of the dangers of worshipping false gods. In response, Ahab and his queen, Jezebel, had set up a statue of Ba'al in the Temple in Jerusalem. No longer able to bear it, Elijah had challenged the priests of the fertility god to a show-down.

If there had been television back then, this would have warranted live coverage. Elijah killed a bull and laid it on a gigantic stone altar. He then confronted Ba'al’s best: call down fire from heaven to consume this sacrificial offering.

They chanted, they danced, they called down incantations, they even cut themselves with knives and swords, but nothing happened. Then, Elijah prayed quietly to God, and lightning crashed down out of the sky, incinerating the carcass of the bull. The people recognized God’s power, and Elijah had all the prophets of Ba'al put to death.

When Queen Jezebel heard about it, she was furious. She sent Elijah a terse message, “before the end of the day, you will suffer the same fate as my prophets.” [I Kings 19:2, paraphrased] Terrified, Elijah fled for his life. First, he just ran into the desert, probably thinking it was better to die there than at the hand’s of Jezebel’s hit-men.

In the desert, an angel appeared and told Elijah to eat. He was being sent on a long journey. So Elijah ate and then he walked for – guess how long? Right: forty days! – to the mountain of God, Horeb. Up on that mountain, he found a cave and took up residence in it. That’s where today’s story begins. God goes looking for Elijah and is surprised to find him, cowering in a cave. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” God asks. [I Kings 19:9]

As though he had been rehearsing for this question, Elijah lays out his plaint: I have always been zealous for the Lord, but Israel has abandoned You. They have killed all your other prophets, and now they’re after me.

So, God tells Elijah to go outside his cave and stand; that the Lord will soon be passing by. As you heard in the reading, first there is a wind so strong that it breaks mountains, then an earthquake, and finally a raging inferno. But God is not present in any of these. At last, there is nothing left but the sound of silence, and that is where Elijah finally hears the true voice of God. Elijah is so overcome by the awesomeness of God’s majesty that he covers his face with his cloak.

It is easy to see and fear the power of God in nature. You and I would have a hard time indeed, standing in the open as a hurricane, an earthquake, and a forest fire raged all around us! We would probably think it was the end of the world, and we would pray for a quick and painless death. But we would be wrong to think that these manifestations were showing us God or God’s action in our lives.

Many people today see the signs of the Apocalypse in all that is happening around us. We see hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, tsunamis, forest fires, and other natural disasters almost every day, it seems – and they appear to be getting more frequent and more devastating. Should we look to these natural events and see God’s hand in them? Should we take them as the voice of God, telling us to change our ways or die?

We find an answer to these questions in the story of Peter in today’s Gospel. Once again, a terrible natural event occurs – a storm that batters the small boat, with winds that force it away from shore and safety. The disciples probably thought they were going to die, too. In the midst of this mighty tempest, they thought they saw a ghost. They surely believed that the end was near. Then the ghost spoke to them, “Take heart, it is I. Do not be afraid.” [Matthew 14:27] Once he realizes that Jesus is near, Peter seems to display a mix of emotions. He wants to believe, but he also wants some proof that God is really with them. “Lord, If it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” [Matthew 14:28]

How often we look for a sign and then put God to the test, demanding proof that it is truly a sign from God! Peter starts out confidently, but seeing the wind and waves, and knowing for a fact that a human being cannot possibly walk on water, he quickly gives in to doubt. Sinking in his disbelief, Peter cries out for help: “Lord, save me!” [Matthew 14:30]

That’s when Peter gets his answer, and we also get ours. Without hesitating, Jesus reaches out his hand and lifts Peter up. Then, they both get into the boat and the storm is over.

That is our answer. When all seems lost, when the forces of nature seem bent on destroying us, when it seems that our enemies, and God’s, are triumphant, when we cry out, “where is God?” this is our answer: God is not in the storm. God is not in the wind, the fire, or the earthquake. But God is also not silent. Rather, if we are quiet enough, in the silence we find out exactly where God is.

God is right there in the boat with us.

Of Witches and Wizards

2011-07-15T12:47:00.000-04:00

Proper 11 + Year A (RCL)

It is hard to have lived anywhere in the world during the past 14 years and not have become aware of Harry Potter and the amazing literary success of the books and films. It is estimated that the total income from all sources surrounding Harry Potter is over 15 billion dollars (US$). What can explain that world-wide interest and willingness to pay so much for books, videos, clothing, toys, and all the other things that are for sale, including an entire section of the Universal Orlando Resort in Florida?

I think that three things attract us to the story. First, it is about teen-agers – young people who are just finding themselves and who are suddenly thrust into a battle for control of the world. This kind of story is hard to resist. The adolescents are brave, a bit naïve, and subject to all the challenges of growing up, but they have no choice except to enter the age-old battle with evil.

In a sense, every teen-ager does exactly the same thing. With growing freedom and the power to make their own decisions, today’s teens face temptation and evil all the time. Most of them, thank God, manage to survive and even resist the worst temptations. Some, however, do indeed go over to the “dark side” (to mix metaphors and movies), and fall prey to the lure of the world. In terms of today’s Gospel reading [Matthew 13:24-30], they find themselves trapped in the weeds, struggling to grow and blossom against the forces that would choke out the goodness in them.

Another attraction of the story is that it is simply riveting. JK Rowling, the author, really knows how to tell a good tale. The plot is compelling, the characters are developed to the point that we feel we know each of them personally, and the entire scene is fascinating. And of course the film’s special effects, such as dragons, unicorns, and flying broomsticks, add to the visual experience.

Finally, the story grips us because it addresses a fundamental question which human beings have faced since our earliest ancestors: why is there evil in the world, and what can we do about it?

It’s no secret that the entire series, beginning with the first of the books in 1997, has been somewhat controversial because of the subject that it considers: witchcraft. I live in a community where there are parents who refuse to allow their children to dress up and go trick-or-treating on Hallowe’en. These parents believe that dressing as witches, ghosts, and monsters is a form of worship of the Devil.

Let’s look a bit at that idea. There is a lot we could say about the character of Satan in the Bible, but I would like to focus today only on witches, as they may be found in Scripture.

The Hebrew Scriptures accept the existence of witches and the practice of witchcraft, and they condemn it. We can find condemnations of witchcraft and sorcery in the Books of Deuteronomy [Deuteronomy 18:9-11], Second Kings [2 Kings 9:21-23], Second Chronicles [2 Chronicles 33:6b], and the prophet Micah [Micah 5:12]. The Christian Testament only mentions witchcraft once, in Paul’s Letter to the Galatians, where it is listed among the sins of the flesh [Galatian 5:19-21].

Perhaps the most dramatic portrayal of witches in the Bible occurs after the death of the prophet Samuel. King Saul is left without his trusted advisor (although he had not paid a lot of attention to the advice that Samuel had offered in the past). Desperate to know what to do in the face of the Philistine armies, Saul consults a medium. She has been called down through history “the witch of Endor.” At first she is terrified, fearing that Saul, who has officially made witchcraft a crime, has come to trap her. But he assures her that he only wants her services as a medium, and he commands her to bring forth the spirit of Samuel. To Saul’s dismay, once Samuel appears, he tells Saul that his reign as king is about to end, and that his armies will be defeated and the kingdom given to David. [I Samuel 28:3-20]

Clearly, the existence of witchcraft was accepted as a reality in the Bible – one that must be condemned and never practiced. So, let us ask ourselves a question: are we, as modern Christians, supposed to believe in such things? Are we to agree that people can call up the spirits of the dead, cast spells, and do all the other things that witches are supposed to be able to do, because “it’s in the Bible”?

In short, the answer is “no.” Here’s why.

From the earliest times, human beings have felt powerless in the face of the things that happen to us. People die, often unexpectedly and in terrible disasters. Our own loved ones are taken from us; we fear the terrible illnesses and brutal accidents that can kill or maim us. It is therefore only natural that we should ask “why?” and “how can we be protected from these fates?”

We have no way of knowing when the first human being got the idea that there were supernatural powers that controlled, or could prevent, the terrible things that happen to us, but it is clear that such ideas have existed for a very long time. Every religion deals with these questions in some way, even if only to say, “there’s nothing you can do – you just have to accept it.”

Also from the earliest times, it appears that there have been people who either sincerely believed that they possessed special powers to answer these questions, or who took advantage of the situation and persuaded those around them that they had magical abilities. From these, we get mediums, spiritists, and even those who are identified – by themselves or by others – as witches.

How, then, are we to respond?

First, it is entirely true that there are supernatural powers. The word “supernatural” means “above nature.” A supernatural power is one that exists outside the confines of our physical world, one that can intervene in the laws of nature. There is indeed such a power – it is called “God.” God created the universe and set it to working according to natural laws, such as the laws of physics. God liked the creation – at the end of each “day” in Genesis, we read, “and God saw that it was good.” [e.g. Genesis 1:10 NRSV]

This tells us that a loving God prepared a wonderful home for you and me, a home where we could depend on natural forces to work in such a way that we are able to eat and drink, to live long lives, to fill this planet with God’s children. This is a good place, or at least it started out that way. But something went awry along the way. As we say to God in Eucharistic Prayer C, “You made us the rulers of creation. But we turned against you and betrayed your trust; and we turned against one another.” [Book of Common Prayer 1979, page 370] The Eucharistic Prayer for Immigrants says it even better in Spanish: “…we fell into sin and turned our backs on you. We took responsibility for that which was yours and we mistreated it; we turned one against the other and turned the paradise which you entrusted to us into a hell of pain and misery.” […nosotros caímos en pecado y te dimos la espalda. Nos apropiamos de lo que era tuyo y le pusimos un cilicio de alambradas; nos volvimos unos contra otros e hicimos del paraíso que nos encomendaste un infierno de dolor y de miseria.]

Once we humans had made a mess of this wonderful world that Our Father created for us as a home, we fell into despair. How are we going to make things right again? How can we get back to what this world was meant to be? To whom can we turn for help? At that point, persons who saw an opportunity took advantage of the situation. “I can help you,” they said. “I will compel the powers, the spirits, the elements, and I will make them obey.” Sometimes, it must have looked like these people succeeded, because many came to believe in them and follow them. But if anything at all worked out the way that these deceivers predicted, it was merely a coincidence or an ordinary outcome of nature following God’s laws.

There is only one supernatural power – it’s that simple. Anything else is a fake, a coincidence, or a thing that is misunderstood. There are no witches, wizards, mediums, or anyone else who has any power to control the universe – only God. Now, this does not mean that God does not act through human beings. Jesus calmed the sea and storm. He healed the sick and raised the dead. He even left some of his authority and power with his disciples and those whom they ordained – the awesome power to forgive sins and commemorate the Last Supper. However, no priest or bishop has any power of his or her own, only a tiny share in the absolute and unique power of God.

So, how do we react to the Harry Potter books and movies? It’s simple – we see them as harmless entertainment, a fictional escape from reality. We watch the adventures and misadventures of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and we fear for them when they are in danger and rejoice when they escape. At the end, we are glad that evil has been conquered and good has triumphed, but we never confuse the mythology in these stories with the reality that only God has any power over evil.

And so we can answer those two basic questions that have haunted humanity since the beginning:

Why do these terrible things happen in a world that God created as “good”?

Because of the evil things that we have done and continue to do.

How can we escape the inevitable consequences of the evil that we have brought into the world?

Only by turning to God– the only supernatural Being who really exists – in faith and prayer; by acknowledging, as we prayed this morning, that God “knows our necessities before we ask” We waste our time if we look to witchcraft or mediums for help. Instead, we call upon Our Loving Father to “mercifully give us those things which, for our unworthiness, we dare not – and, for our blindness, we cannot ask.” [Collect for Proper 11, Book of Common Prayer 1979, page 231]

It’s fine to escape into a fantasy world and enjoy the adventures of imaginary characters, even when they represent a false hope and a eons-old deception. But we know to Whom we need to turn when we really need help – the only supernatural power that exists: God our Loving Creator, Redeemer, and Sustaining Spirit. Amen.

Anglican Dominican Novicing - Part 2

2011-07-14T18:01:00.000-04:00

Today, Brother Neal Salan, OPA, prior of All Saints Priory, had the privilege of witnessing the Novice Promises of the newest member of the Anglican Order of Preachers (Anglican Dominicans), Brother Christopher Douglas-Huriwai, from Christchurch, New Zealand.

Brother Chris is a Māori seminarian studying in Auckland, New Zealand. He is a member of the Anglican Church of Aotearoa, New Zealand, and Polynesia. He is married and blogs at He Whakaaro Noa Iho…

As I pointed out when I received the Promises of Brother Erich Junger last June, we Anglican Dominicans are guided by three hallmarks or mottoes. The first is (in Latin) "Laudare, Benedicere, Praedicare," or "To praise, to bless, to preach." We praise God in all that we say and do. Each of our actions is dedicated to the work and glory of God. Likewise, we bless by our words and deeds, always trying to show those around us the love and mercy of Our Lord. Finally, preaching is our primary charism. We are to preach, regardless of our status as lay or ordained, whether in a pulpit or street corner. These three charges are interwoven: by preaching, we praise God and bless our brothers and sisters.

The second hallmark is "Veritas" - the Latin word for "truth." Dominic felt his call to preach and teach when he found himself in a region that had strayed from orthodox understandings of the Bible and the teachings of and about Jesus. His commitment to explaining, teaching, and preaching the truth animated him from that day forward. He set that as a one-word challenge to every Dominican since: to be wholely committed to the truth, at all times, in all places, and at any cost.

The last hallmark is simple in the original Latin (Contemplare et Contemplata Aliis Tradere), but rather difficult to render into English. Essentially, it means "I will study, and I will use the fruits of my study to teach others." Dominicans are dedicated to life-long learning. We read, write, study, debate, discuss, teach, preach, and even email, blog, and tweet, so that we may fulfill this desire and charge to use what we learn for the benefit of those around us.

Brother Chris' journey in faith as an Anglican Dominican has just begun. I pray that he will be faithful to the Promises that he made today, and I pledge that I will support him with my prayers, counsel, and friendship as he continues that journey.

I ask that you all pray for him, for the other new Novices who make Promises this summer, and for the entire Anglican Order of Preachers, throughout the world.

Thank you.

Brother Tom Hudson, OPA
Provincial, Province of the Transfiguration
Anglican Order of Preachers

Sower, Seed, Soil, or Harvest?

2011-07-09T16:17:00.001-04:00

Proper 10 + Year A (RCL)

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

In last week’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus seemed a bit frustrated. First, he said “to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another.” [Matthew 11:16] He goes on to say, somewhat sarcastically, “I thank^* you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent.” [Matthew 11:25]

What is Jesus getting at here? Just this: he had proclaimed his message, the Good News of the Kingdom of Heaven. He had preached and healed, and the people whom he was trying to convert just didn’t get it. The scribes and Pharisees ignored Jesus’ message; they rejected his teachings like taunting children, so he decided to focus on a different audience. Instead of speaking with “the wise and intelligent,” Jesus took his message to the streets.

That is where today’s Gospel picks up. Having given up on the generation of Jewish leaders, Jesus will now teach the common people, and especially his disciples. In the thirteenth chapter of Matthew, Jesus offers no fewer than seven parables – all designed to teach people about the coming Kingdom in language that they would be sure to understand, using examples and situations with which everyday folks could easily relate. Over the next three weeks, we will hear three of those parables in our Gospel readings.

What exactly is a parable anyway? The Greek word παραβολή (parabolē) means “comparison” or “illustration.” Jesus compares the Kingdom of Heaven to everyday events in people’s lives. Sometimes, he clearly starts out by saying, “the Kingdom of Heaven is like…” [cf. Matthew 13:31, 33, 44, 45, 47] For example, “the Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed,” or “like a treasure hidden in a field.” [Matthew 13:31 & 44] Today, however, Jesus simply begins by calling out “listen!” to the crowd. Once he has their attention, he proceeds to deliver his message, using an example that everyone can recognize and understand.

Today’s parable can be known by several names, depending on the perspective with which we look at it. It is most commonly called “the Parable of the Sower” because it begins with “a sower went out to sow.” [Matthew 13:3] Just so there’s no misunderstanding, a modern rendition of that goes something like “a farmer went out to plant his crop.”

If you are familiar with farming, you may immediately notice two very unusual things about what the sower does. First, agricultural practices in Jesus’ day were very different from those of today. In modern practice, the farmer first plows or tills the field. Then, he comes back and plants the seeds, and finally he may smooth the soil over the planted seeds. In the farming practice of Jesus’ time, a farmer first sows the seeds on the ground and then plows them under. I’m not sure there’s any particular reason for that – it’s just the way they did things “back then.” One outcome of this approach, though, is that it takes a lot more seeds to ensure that a good crop will grow. Much of the seed just doesn’t end up where it needs to be.

The other thing that you may notice is that this sower seems to pay no attention to where he is throwing the seeds! Presumably, he can see that some of them are falling on the roadside and some on rocky ground, yet he throws them there anyway. We might suppose that an understanding of plant biology was many centuries in the future, and so perhaps the sower didn’t know any better.

This story may also be called “the Parable of the Soils.” One type of soil is hard. It won’t accept the planting of the seeds. Another type is full of rocks. Even if the seeds sprout there, they will have a hard time growing. A seed that takes root in a tiny crevice in a rock can only put its roots down a short distance before it meets impassable resistance. Yet another type of soil is good, but it is full of the seeds of weeds. Only one type of soil is truly fertile, offering a place where the seeds can take root, grow, flourish, and produce.

The parable might also be called “the Parable of the Harvest.” In Jesus’ day, a good harvest – the one that was hoped for by the Sower – meant that the farmer would get back three measures of grain for every measure of seed that he planted. So, one bushel of seeds was expected to produce at least three bushels of grain. A really good year might produce seven times the amount of seed planted. If the harvest reached ten times the amount planted, the farmer could retire and buy a villa on the Mediterranean! Jesus astounded his audience. He predicted that only one-fourth of the seeds that were sown would produce thirty or sixty or even a hundred-fold! That much grain might feed the whole country.

Well, whether we focus on the sower, the soils, the seeds, or the harvest, there’s a message for each of us in this parable.

A couple of years ago, I took an evening course at Virginia Theological Seminary. It was entitled, “The Parables of Jesus.” We studied many of the parables in the Gospels, and one of the ideas that has stuck with me from that class is this: when we hear or read a parable, we are expected to see ourselves somewhere in that story. I mean that each of us should be able to identify with one of the participants or characters in the parable. And a really amazing thing is that, when we come back again another time, we often identify with a different character – depending on our mood at the time, what is happening in our lives, or where we are on our spiritual journey.

In light of this teaching, let’s go back and look at this parable again.

If we see ourselves as the Sower, then we have to trust in God’s abundance. We are called to sow the seeds of the Word, of God’s love, and pay no attention to where those seeds are going. We do not have the right to decide in advance who will receive our love, who can hear the word, whom we will allow to be touched by our lives as Christians. We must simply trust God to send the right seed to the right place, and we cannot hold back as we sow.

On the other hand, we might see ourselves as the seeds in the story. All of the seeds started out exactly the same. Each was sown in the same way, but they ended up very differently – just like in real life. Some were rejected. Some met with obstacles – rocks that got in the way. Others took root but were choked out by weeds. And some were fortunate enough to land on fertile ground.

There is an old maxim that goes “bloom where you’re planted.” That seems a bit odd today, in our mobile society. I have a cousin – he’s my father’s cousin, actually – who is in his 80s. He lives in the house that his grandfather built. His grandparents lived their whole married lives there. His mother was born in that house, and so was he. However, his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren will not want to live there. They have spread out to other towns and other states. It’s becoming increasingly rare to find people today who have lived their whole lives in one town or city, let alone one house.

But I think we can still benefit from “bloom where you’re planted.” To me, it means that, wherever I am, I have one simple job to do: to grow and flourish and spread God’s word of love to all around me. Whenever I move on to another place, the task remains the same.

It is also possible that we could see ourselves as one of the four soils in the story. Some of us, at times, may not want to receive God’s word or God’s love through our brothers and sisters. We may harden ourselves to resist. Others may want to receive the word but find our acceptance blocked by obstacles that prevent us from fully benefitting from the love of God. Still others may find that our lives are so cluttered by distractions and temptations that they choke out the good that the love of God can provide. The fortunate among us may see themselves as fertile ground, on which the word of God can take root, grow, and blossom.

Finally, we may find ourselves in the story as the Harvest. If we do, then the lesson for us is: don’t be satisfied with ordinary or even above-average. Jesus calls us to exceed expectations, to astound and amaze the world around us. Nothing less than a hundred-fold must be our goal!

The one thing that cannot happen is that we stand on the sidelines and watch. We are not to harden our hearts or close our minds, the way the scribes and Pharisees did. Jesus doesn’t want by-standers! This parable is a call to action, no matter who we see ourselves as being in it.

Jesus tried to get his message across to those who ought to have been able to understand and accept it. They rejected him and his Word of God’s love, so Jesus took his preaching to the common people, and he spoke in words that they could understand and live with.

Jesus is speaking to each of us today, using the same words that were spoken millennia ago. Farming methods may have changed. People move around a lot today. Many of us don’t really know much at all about agriculture, but we all “get it.” Jesus doesn’t have to explain his parables today, any more than he did when he first announced them.

The Kingdom of God is here. It is not an earthly kingdom. It is like nothing we have ever seen or could imagine. We are the citizens of God’s Kingdom – we are the people who live in it and who are called to proclaim it to everyone around us. This is not optional. We are not being invited to a spectator sport. There is work to do, and regardless of where we find ourselves today, where we see ourselves in Jesus’ parables, we cannot escape the reality.

Let us heed the call in this parable. Sowers, seeds, soils, or harvest, we know what we have to do. Let us be up and about. Let us respond to Jesus. Let this be the generation that rises to his challenge and produces a hundred-fold! Amen.

What is Paul Trying to Say?

2011-07-05T17:46:00.000-04:00

Third Sunday After Pentecost + Proper 9 (Year A - RCL)

Romans 7:15-25a

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!

This has to be one of the most-dreaded passages for Lectors! (Another is the reading from Acts of the Apostles for Pentecost Sunday – the one with all the place names: Parthians, Medes, etc.) I would love to say that this passage is really clear and beautiful in the original Greek, but it isn’t!

(If you can’t read Greek, you’ll have to trust me – this paragraph is just as much of a tongue-twister in Greek as it is in English.)

We might legitimately wonder why Paul, whose lament is so familiar to all of us, had to express it in such convoluted and confusing phrases. Couldn’t he just have said, “I do the things I don’t want to do, and I never do the things I do want to do”?

To better understand what Paul is getting at, we need to step back a bit and look at the parts of chapter seven that come before this passage.

First of all, Paul is concluding a section of Romans in which he addresses the fact that, as a faithful Pharisee, he spent most of his life carefully obeying “the law.” For Paul, that meant not just the Ten Commandments, but also the other 635 (found mostly in Leviticus and Deuteronomy), plus all of the detailed interpretations of the rabbis down through Jewish history.

Paul was the consummate Pharisee: well-schooled in the law, its interpretation, and its enforcement – somewhat like the modern-day religious police in Saudi Arabia who drag women who are driving out of their cars, and who publicly rebuke women who are not “modestly dressed” according to their interpretation of the Qur’an. Paul and the Pharisees did their best to make sure that the people knew what the law was (according to their interpretation), and that violators were properly disciplined (including the stoning to death of the first deacon, Stephen).

As you know, Paul’s understanding shifted dramatically at his encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus. Paul probably didn’t immediately appreciate the turn his life had taken at that point: the fact that all he had believed about obeying the law was of no use, that faith in Jesus was all that one needed in order to be righteous – that in fact ONLY faith in Jesus could accomplish a person’s reconciliation with God.

That explains what Paul is now writing to the Romans. In effect, he is saying, “don’t be afraid of me – I no longer believe that following every detail of this complicated set of laws is the way to heaven. In fact, I completely reject the idea that following laws can save anyone.”

At the beginning of chapter seven of Romans, Paul wraps up this teaching. First, he reminds his readers that laws only apply at certain times. If a married woman lives with another man while her husband is living, that is adultery. But if she does so (presumably after getting married) when her husband has died, it is not a sin at all. In the same way, Paul writes, Christians are no longer subject to the first law, because they have died in Christ and been reborn by his grace. That is perhaps his key point: the law cannot save anyone, so trying to be the best follower of the law that you can is the wrong thing to do.

Paul goes on to explain that the law does have one value to Christians. If it were not for the law, we would not know what sin is. We would not know right from wrong if it were not written down somewhere exactly what is right and wrong. So far, so good, but then Paul goes on to describe the disadvantage of having the law. While it is a good thing that the law tells us what is a sin, it is also a bad thing, because once we know what sin is, we tend to want to do it.

That’s where today’s reading comes in. Paul’s lament, if it may be called that, has six or seven major points:

· I just can’t understand my own actions.

· I don’t do the things that I want to do (namely, the good).

· Instead, I do the very things that I hate (sins).

· I wouldn’t even know that I am sinning if I didn’t know God’s law, so it’s a good thing that I do.

· The reason that I do these bad things (sins) is because I am filled with sin (sin dwells within me), and I can’t get rid of it.

At this point, Paul goes off into his well-known attitude that the body is evil and the soul is pure and good, but we don’t need to dwell on that aspect of his theology. After a somewhat depressing condemnation of his body and its parts (members), Paul offers some hope:

· Who will rescue me from the sins of my flesh? Thanks be to God – it’s Jesus Christ our Lord!

It feels like we’re “home free” when we get to this verse! After a confusing series of sentences, Paul offers the prize: there is hope – Jesus will save us from our sins (and not only from the sins of the flesh). Today’s Gospel sums it up perfectly:

“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.” [Matthew 11:28-30]

So, should we stop caring about God’s law? Never! Without the law, we would never know how much we need to be saved. Should we make obeying the law the prime goal of our lives? No way! It would be an exercise in futility, and at the end we would still not be saved. So, what should we do? Come to Jesus! Learn from him. See how his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

Paul may have seemed to struggle greatly under the burden of his sins and his constant failure to do what he wanted to do, but he had faith in Jesus, and that’s all he (and you and I) ever need. Amen!

Alban, First Martyr in Britain

2011-06-22T17:06:00.000-04:00

Today we remember a legendary person, Alban, the first recorded Christian martyr in Britain. I say “legendary” because history is rather weak for the period of time in which Alban lived. I don’t mean that he did not exist―with as much information as we have about him, there must surely have been just such a person who died for his faith. The date, circumstances, and events surrounding his death have probably been forgotten, embellished, and even invented over the centuries, but the person and his sacrifice are worth remembering.

Here’s what we know about Saint Alban. He lived in the south-eastern part of England, in the Roman colony called Britannia, somewhere near the present-day city of St Alban’s. The place may have been called Verulamium in Roman days. We don’t know when he was born, but his death is associated with a Roman persecution of Christians, so it probably took place in the early or late 200s.

All of the accounts agree on the basic facts: Alban was a pagan who became a Christian. When the persecutions reached Britain, he refused to renounce his faith and was killed for it.

That’s where the stories come into the picture, some of which are reasonable and may be based on true events, and others of which are clearly additions made to make Alban even more significant than he was. That’s a very normal human thing to do. Just think how, only one year after George Washington’s death, when hundreds of people who knew him were still living, an Episcopal minister by the name of “Parson Weems” was able to introduce legends about chopping down a cherry tree and throwing a silver dollar across a river. People are naturally eager to know all that they can about a famous or important person, and unfortunately others are more than willing to add details to the story to make it sound better.

We even know today that there were several “gospels” written about Jesus that were either plagiarized from the actual gospels or contained fanciful legends and sayings. We do not necessarily think that the writers of these pseudo-gospels were deliberately being dishonest. They may have been simply writing down stories that they had heard. But it is clear that the desire to know more about Jesus, and to supply that information, was irresistible to people over the centuries.

Back to Alban, however: his conversion to Christianity, his perseverance in the face of persecution, and his willingness to die for his Lord are what we cling to. Additional details, and there are some wild ones, may make his story more interesting, but they do not change the basic facts.

One such aspect of the history of Alban proposes that a Christian priest, fleeing the persecution, came to Alban’s house. Alban kindly took him in and hid him. Over the next several days, the priest taught Alban all about Christianity, and Alban asked to be baptized. Ultimately, the authorities found out about the priest and came to Alban’s house to arrest him. To protect the priest, Alban put on the man’s cloak and allowed himself to be arrested in the priest’s stead. When the magistrate learned of the deception, he demanded that Alban renounce his Christian faith. Alban refused and was condemned to death. Other, less reliable, aspects of Alban’s story need not be repeated here.

One of the reasons that we remember the saints in our church is because they serve as examples – examples of God’s love for us and of our love for God. God’s love includes giving us many fellow human beings who serve as models of Christian living. When a believer accepts suffering or death, or when a Christian reaches out with extraordinary faith or charity, you and I are reminded that we, too, can show our love for God in such ways.

The saints are a gift to us from God, a gift intended to comfort and sustain us when we face trials and tribulations. They are also living reminders that we might some day be asked to sacrifice all that is dear to us, even life itself, in order to be faithful to God. Alban and other saints show us that God will also give you and me the strength and perseverance to do what is required of us.

Today’s Collect says it all. Only by the grace and power of God was Alban able to triumph over his personal suffering and remain faithful even to death. We do not honor Alban because he was extraordinary. Rather, we see an ordinary man who relied upon God and was able to bear his suffering and ultimately triumph. Alban died. He may have died painfully and with great humiliation, but he also probably had in his mind the image of Jesus doing the same thing on the Cross, and that image may have given Alban the courage to remain faithful to the end.

There are many today who are already spiritually dead. As St John tells us, “whoever does not love abides in death.” [I John 3:14] Alban is our example and witness of how to abide in love. We say that we remember him “in thanksgiving,” and we ask that we, too, may be faithful in our witness to Jesus, so that we may also receive with Alban “the crown of life.” [Collect for Feast of Alban, Martyr]

For us Christians, death is not the end of everything. We naturally avoid and perhaps even fear death, but that is a physical response, not the response of faith. As much as we wish to live, we know that life here is only a shadow of the permanent joy of eternal life. That is the response of our faith, the response of Alban and all the martyrs over time. We have Jesus’ promise: “those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” [Matthew 10:39]

May we join with Alban and all those who have given everything for their faith in Jesus, offering to God the Father ourselves, our souls and bodies, and praying for the grace of the Holy Spirit to comfort and sustain us whenever we face challenges. May we “abide in love” and let God’s light shine through us so that all will see and give thanks. Amen.

Have Dominion Over All the Earth

2011-06-19T14:02:00.000-04:00

Trinity Sunday + Year A (RCL)

Genesis 1:1 – 2:4

Today’s reading from the first chapter of Genesis sets a high standard for humankind:

God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” God said, “See, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food.” [Genesis 1:28-29]

Things were simpler in earlier times. All God expected of humanity was to be fruitful and multiply – to populate the earth with people who could recognize God’s love and return it faithfully. Today, we have done a pretty good job of “filling the earth.” It is estimated that the human population of the world reached one billion in 1804, two billion in 1927, three billion in 1960, four billion in 1974, five billion in 1987, and six billion in 1999. It is projected to reach seven billion by October of this year, and around eight billion by 2025–2030. By 2045–2050, the world's population is currently projected to reach around nine billion, with alternative scenarios ranging from 7.4 billion to 10.6 billion. (source: Wikipedia)

As for “subduing” the earth, we have also more or less accomplished that, for better or worse. We have harnessed rivers behind dams, dug canals to connect continents and oceans, climbed the highest mountains and sent exploratory submarines to the depths of the oceans. We have also created the world’s largest landfill: an island of garbage floating in the northern Pacific that kills wildlife and interferes with shipping. We have produced so much air pollution that the temperature of the earth is rising and island nations are in danger of disappearing under the deepening oceans.

More important than the word “subdue” in Genesis is God’s charge to humanity to “have dominion over… every living thing that moves upon the earth.” Just what kind of dominion did God intend? Some today, even those in Christian congregations, appear to believe that God literally gave mankind the right to do anything we like with the planet and all its inhabitants, including – presumably – destroying it.

Dominion is defined as having the power or the right to govern and control someone or something. It sounds like an absolute authority that cannot be challenged. However, a closer look reveals some interesting things.

The Hebrew words of Genesis are very poetic: “fill the earth” is the word urbu and “subdue it” is urdu. “Urdu” is translated as “hold sway over” or “have power over.” It does not mean “dominate.” With power over creation comes responsibility. God has placed this planet under our care, not to abuse as we wish, but to preserve and return to God someday.

In Latin, the word for “hold dominion” (dominamini) is directly related to the word “Lord” (Dominus). God shares power with us, giving us temporary control over this earth. We are not equal to God, but we are “lords” over nature and the planet, once again in order to preserve it for God, not to destroy it for our own purposes.

There is one more important point to this passage from Genesis. God clearly states that we are to eat “every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit.” I have often wondered why biblical literalists are not all vegetarians! When the Hebrew people were starving, God first gave them manna, which was probably a plant byproduct. It does appear that God placed more emphasis on humanity growing and eating crops than on killing our fellow creatures.

On this Trinity Sunday, we recognize God’s complete nature: creator, redeemer, and sustainer. God the Father prepared this world in which we live so that we would be grateful, so that we would live in relative comfort, and so that we would give God appropriate thanks for everything. God the Son promised a new heaven and a new earth, but he did not thereby give us permission to trash the old earth. God the Holy Spirit continues to inspire us today in ways that we do not always expect. One of those ways is to see the danger to this planet that has been and continues to be caused by our actions and inactions, and to call upon us to correct the damage that we have done.

Some believe that it is too late, that the tipping point has been reached and the planet will self-destruct in slow motion right before our eyes. Others refuse to believe that anything has changed. Still others feel that this is not an issue that Christians need consider, since we are only waiting for the new earth, and this old one will not matter.

One of the reasons that the designers of the Revised Common Lectionary ask us to read the first chapter of Genesis today is to remind us of the creativity of God and be thankful. The God who created this complex, amazing universe in which we live cannot be pleased with its careless or intentional destruction. It is our duty to understand “dominion” as a sharing in God’s loving care for this world, as a call to preserve it and someday hand it back to our Father in a condition that is pleasing to God. Certainly, the gospels’ parables about stewardship suggest that we will be expected to account for the ways in which we have used those things entrusted to our care by the Lord. [cf. Matthew 25:14-30]

Stewardship is a strange topic for Trinity Sunday. Some might say it is easier to explain than the mystery of the Three-in-One! However, the wisdom that placed the first chapter of Genesis before us today would suggest that we are called to consider all aspects of God’s nature today, and that proper dominion is a sharing in God’s love and care for all of creation.

Symbols of Pentecost

2011-06-15T11:02:00.000-04:00

Pentecost 2011 (Year A + RCL)
Acts 2:1-21

The story of Pentecost in the second chapter of Acts has many mysterious signs and symbols. I would like to focus today on three of them.

First, when the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples, there was a sound like the rushing of wind. God’s Spirit has long been associated with air, wind, and breathing. Our word “inspire” has two meanings: to breathe in, and to fill with the power of God. In the Old Testament, God was often recognized in a strong wind or a gentle breeze. Human beings naturally realize that we will suffer and quickly die if deprived of air. Likewise, our spirits suffocate if we cut them off from the life-giving power of God’s Holy Spirit. The wind at Pentecost was a sign that God was present, and it attracted quite a crowd of bystanders.

Second, tongues of fire hovered over the heads of the disciples. There are two images here: one from the Old Testament, and another from the contemporary world in which Acts of the Apostles was written. Moses was content to hide from the Egyptians and be a shepherd in the wilderness, but God had work for him to do. One day, Moses happened upon a bush that was on fire, but was not consumed by the flames. God spoke to Moses from that burning bush. Later, a column of fire led the Hebrews out of Egypt, and God appeared on Mount Sinai in a theophany of lightning and thunder. Fire was a powerful sign of God’s presence, and tongues of flame at Pentecost confirmed that God was present with the disciples.

Another symbolism in the tongues of fire is not so obvious to us today. Roman coins often depicted an image of Caesar, with flames above his head. These were supposed to signify that Caesar was a son of the gods, that he was divine. For the same symbol to appear over the heads of simple fishermen, tax collectors, and revolutionaries was a sign that they were favored by God, set apart to do God’s work. It would have been immediately recognized by those present on that day.

Finally, the disciples spoke and people from all over the Roman world understood them. It is not clear whether the disciples spoke in actual foreign languages, or rather spoke in spiritual “tongues” – what are called today glossolalia. The key is that those around them understood them, as if they were speaking in the languages of the many visitors to Jerusalem. Speaking in strange syllables was not unknown in that day. Many prophets and oracles would go into a trance and speak words that no one could understand. Then, the prophet would wake up and explain what he or she had said while in the trance. The difference at Pentecost was that no one needed a translation or interpretation – everyone understood exactly what the disciples said, as if it were in the native language of each person. That was a significant symbol: the message of the Gospel is for all; it is not hidden; it does not need interpretation.

How does the Holy Spirit come to us today? First of all, in the sacraments: in baptism, confirmation, ordination for some, anointing with oil, and in the Holy Eucharist. If you listen closely today, you will spot the place in the Eucharistic Prayer where the priest calls upon the Holy Spirit to come upon the elements. In Greek Orthodox theology, it not the words, “This is my body… this is my blood” that consecrate the bread and wine, but rather the imposition of the Holy Spirit.

What is the effect of the Holy Spirit upon us? How do we respond? In the words of the spiritual, “every time I feel the Spirit moving in my heart, I will pray.” We can only receive the sacraments at special times and in certain places, but we can pray any time, anywhere. It is the prompting of the Holy Spirit that leads us to pray, and it is our prayers that unite us to the work of the Spirit of God in the world.

God does not promise that all our cares and troubles will go away. Rather, God is with us in our daily travails, in our fear, sorrow, grief, and confusion. God’s Spirit brings us wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. [the traditional “Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit” from Isaiah 11:2-3] God does not take away our trials and tribulations, but the Spirit is with us as we go through them, to comfort, strengthen, and help us.

Jesus said “take my yoke upon you.” [Matthew 11:29] A yoke was used to harness two beasts of burden together. Usually, a stronger one was yoked to a weaker one, so that the weaker one could help do the work. Jesus offers to be yoked to us, not so that we don’t have to work, but so that we can rely upon his strength – the strength of the Spirit – to do what has to be done.

I pray that the power of the Spirit will come upon us all, to empower us to do God’s work in this world, and to share our burdens and our joys, today and forever. Amen!

Anglican Dominican Novicing

2011-06-08T17:24:00.000-04:00

Today, I had the privilege of witnessing the Novice Promises of the newest member of the Anglican Order of Preachers (Anglican Dominicans), Brother Erich Junger, from Frankfurt, Germany.

Brother Erich is an American citizen who lives and works in Germany. He is an Episcopal priest, from the Diocese of Washington, DC, now assisting in the Convocation of Episcopal Churches in Europe (the diocese of The Episcopal Church that covers most of Western Europe). He first contacted me as an Inquirer last year, and he recently completed his Postulancy phase, along with four others from all over the world.

In my sermon after receiving his Letter of Promise, I reflected on Sunday's reading from Acts, chapter 1, and how it applied to aptly to what we did today. The verse on which I focused was this, "why do you stand looking up towards heaven?" [Acts 1:11]

Too often, it seems, we act as though we are helpless and powerless, when all that is needed is for us to take action. When the disciples of Jesus, who had just seen him ascend into heaven, were asked this question by two angels, their response was to return to their lodging and devote themselves to prayer for ten days. At the end of that time, they received the gifts and power of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. You know what happened after that!

We Dominicans can never be accused of standing and looking up towards heaven. From our Founder on down through history, we have been doing the work of God. In fact, Dominic himself wrote into our Rule that, if it is time to pray and we are busy studying, preaching, or doing any other kind of God's work, we are not to stop for prayer, but rather to make our work a prayer (a very Augustinian idea, but that's what Dominic was as a canon).

Anglican Dominicans are guided by three hallmarks or mottoes. The first is (in Latin) "Laudare, Benedicere, Praedicare," or "To praise, to bless, to preach." We praise God in all that we say and do. Each of our actions is dedicated to the work and glory of God. Likewise, we bless by our words and deeds, always trying to show those around us the love and mercy of Our Lord. Finally, preaching is our primary charism. We are to preach, regardless of our status as lay or ordained, whether in a pulpit or street corner. These three charges are interwoven: by preaching, we praise God and bless our brothers and sisters.

The second hallmark is "Veritas" - the Latin word for "truth." Dominic felt his call to preach and teach when he found himself in a region that had strayed from orthodox understandings of the Bible and the teachings of and about Jesus. His commitment to explaining, teaching, and preaching the truth animated him from that day forward. He set that as a one-word challenge to every Dominican since: to be wholely committed to the truth, at all times, in all places, and at any cost.

The last hallmark is simple in the original Latin (Contemplare et Contemplata Aliis Tradere), but rather difficult to render into English. Essentially, it means "I will study, and I will use the fruits of my study to teach others." Dominicans are dedicated to life-long learning. We read, write, study, debate, discuss, teach, preach, and even email, blog, and tweet, so that we may fulfill this desire and charge to use what we learn for the benefit of those around us.

Brother Erich's journey in faith as an Anglican Dominican has just begun. I pray that he will be faithful to the Promises that he made at St Mary's today, and I pledge that I will support him with my prayers, counsel, and friendship as he continues that journey.

I ask that you all pray for him, for the other new Novices who make Promises this summer, and for the entire Anglican Order of Preachers, throughout the world.

Thank you.

Why do you stand looking up to heaven?

2011-06-04T10:21:00.000-04:00

Seventh Sunday of Easter + Year A (RCL)

Acts 1:6-14, Psalm 68, I Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11

You don’t need me to tell you that there is a lot of suffering in the world today. Natural disasters, such as earthquakes, tornadoes, fires, and floods, take many lives and leave thousands devastated. These calamities are not signs of the end-times; they are the normal outcome of a troubled planet and a world without faith.

Natural disasters are not our only danger. Man-made threats such as oil spills, nuclear waste, and antibiotic-resistant germs and viruses threaten many lives, even in developed countries.

And, as if all the above were not enough, we are still fighting and killing each other, with greater efficiency and lack of emotion than ever before. We are raising generations of children who play violent computer games, so that when they come of age they can operate the high-tech weapons that will allow them to kill an entire village in a country a thousand miles away and feel nothing (or, worse yet, high-five each other for doing it).

Two reasonable questions occur to people of faith when we consider all these bad things: why does this happen, and how should we respond?

First―the why. Why is there evil in the world? Where did it come from? Why does God permit it? Why doesn’t God simply stamp it out?

We have spoken before about the fact that God does not have “a plan.” God does not predestine everything that happens to you and me. God has not already decided when and how you and I will die. Rather, God created a universe that operates very efficiently according to natural laws and responses to events. If we poison a river, the fish die, animals and people starve, and countless people downstream are affected. This was not God’s plan. God did not cause this to happen. Most surely, God did not want this to happen. But God gave us the most precious gift that we can imagine: freedom. God took a great risk in giving us that gift―the risk that we might misuse our freedom, that we could use it to destroy the beauty that God created, that we would use it to destroy one another.

It would be comforting to think that, no matter how bad things look, God is completely in control and that everything that is happening is doing so because God wills it. On the other hand, believing in a God who deliberately causes or callously allows suffering and pain would be very difficult. That is not the kind of God that I believe in.

God is all-powerful, but not all-controlling. God chooses not to intervene, no matter how much it pains God to see what we are doing, the mess we are making of things. This is an act of love. A God who controlled everything that we said and did would never know the joy of receiving our love and gratitude.

And yet, I am not saying that God does not act in our world, in our lives. Not at all! God is ever-present―through you and me.

As our Psalm says, God is the “Father of orphans” and the “defender of widows.” [Psalm 68:5] “God gives the solitary a home and brings forth prisoners into freedom.” [Psalm 68:6] How does God do this? Through the actions, the caring, the love of you and me. We take care of widows, orphans, the homeless, and prisoners. We bring God’s love and compassion to them, we represent God to them. God acts through us!

You and I know, as Saint Peter wrote, that our “brothers and sisters in all the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering” that we endure, every day. [I Peter 5:9] Yes, the world is a terrible place. Yes, natural and human disasters, and the cruelty of people to each other, create unspeakable suffering.

But God also shows us the way out. God doesn’t abandon us to our misery. Without intervening, without forcing us to stop hurting this planet and one another, God gives us a simple answer: “Cast all your anxiety upon him, because he cares for you.” [I Peter 5:7]

Cast your cares upon the Lord. That is, know that God loves you so much as to take on your burdens. Not to make the world stop being such a bad place, but to make it bearable. Peter reminds us that “after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the power forever and ever!” [I Peter 5:10b-11]

When we are faced with the challenges of living in the world today, when disasters threaten or fill us with fear and sorrow, when all seems hopeless, remember those angels who appeared at Jesus’ ascension. What did they say? “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” [Acts 1:11]

Why do we stand and look toward heaven, when the work to be done is here on earth? Why do we stand and look to heaven, when God is right here beside us, ready and willing to work with us, in and through us? Why do we expect heaven to fix our problems, when we created them and have to live with them, suffering “for a little while,” but sure in the knowledge that our suffering will end, that God will take care of us, and that we will receive “eternal glory in Christ?” [I Peter 5:10]

Bad things do not happen because they are part of some plan of God’s. They happen because we are sinful, because we hurt one another and destroy this planet. But we should not despair, because we have God’s promise of better things.

The promises are clear, sisters and brothers. God does not promise to stop the suffering caused by natural forces, human actions and inactions, and the result of sin in our lives. What God does promise is that all who suffer will be helped, through our actions―not by looking up to heaven, but by looking around. You and I are God’s answer to the suffering in this world. We are the means through which God helps and heals.

And how can we possibly do that? How can we do God’s work in the world? It’s very simple, really: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you.” [Acts 1:8]

Receive that power.

Take that power.

Use it to do God’s work in the world.

Accept your suffering as a temporary thing.

Cast your cares upon the Lord.

Don’t stand there looking up into the sky; get to work, doing God’s work every day, for every person you meet.

You can do it! You have God’s promise. You have the power of the Spirit!

Visitation and Rogation

2011-05-31T13:52:00.000-04:00

Today is a double-whammy in the Church's calendar. We celebrate the Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and also the second Rogation Day before the Feast of the Ascension on Thursday.

Mary's visit to see her cousin, Elizabeth, the mother-to-be of John the Baptist, is only recorded in Luke's gospel [Luke 1:39-57] Given the accepted view that Luke wrote the last of the three Synoptic Gospels (Matthew-Mark-Luke), and that this story only appears in his gospel, it seems likely that this represents a tidbit of information that Luke picked up as he was gathering stories about Jesus and including some of them in his book [see Luke 1:1-4 for Luke's explanation of what he was trying to do in writing down his gospel].

It is important at this point to mention that a large number of stories about Jesus, and especially about events before the three years of his public ministry, were rejected as being "non-canonical." That is, they were not to be included in the official list of books - the canon - of the New Testament. The secular press likes to refer to these as "Lost Gospels," but they should more properly be called "books that were rejected because they weren't really gospels in the first place." Because of this, it is sometimes surprising to see which other stories somehow made it into the canon. That's a good topic for a future discussion, but today let's just accept that this story is canonical, and that it offers Luke the perfect setting for one of the most beautiful pieces of poetry in the entire NT: the Magnificat.

I grew up with the King James Version (in the 1928 Book of Common Prayer), which went like this:

The Song of Mary Magnificat

Luke 1:46‑55

My soul doth magnify the Lord, *

and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.

For he hath regarded *

the lowliness of his handmaiden.

For behold from henceforth *

all generations shall call me blessed.

For he that is mighty hath magnified me, *

and holy is his Name.

And his mercy is on them that fear him *

throughout all generations.

He hath showed strength with his arm; *

he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat, *

and hath exalted the humble and meek.

He hath filled the hungry with good things, *

and the rich he hath sent empty away.

He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel, *

as he promised to our forefathers,

Abraham and his seed for ever.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost: *

as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

[from Daily Evening Prayer, Rite One in the Book of Common Prayer, 1979 - page 65]

Of course, this "canticle" (holy song) was recited at Evening Prayer and chanted at Evensong, and it is still a frequently-chosen option for that time of prayer in our 1979 Prayer Book.

Regardless of the setting, we can join with Mary in "magnifying" the Lord, that is, giving God all of the glory and praise that our souls are capable of offering. And why? Mary answers that question: because God has raised up the lowly and fulfilled the promises that were made to Israel - especially the promise made to Abraham and his descendants - that of a Messiah to deliver God's people.

As the title of this sermon hints, there is something else that we observe today, and it does not conflict with our celebration of the Visitation.

There are four Rogation Days in the calendar. The first one, sometimes called the Major Rogation, is on April 25 (the same day that we celebrate Saint Mark). The other three come right in a row on the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday immediately preceding the Feast of the Ascension (this Thursday).

Our word, rogation, comes from the Latin verb rogare, which means "to ask" or "to pray. This is tied to the Gospel reading that used to be read on the Sunday before the Ascension. It contained Jesus' promise, "ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find." [Matthew 7:7-8] Following through on Jesus command, we are encouraged to spend three days asking, all the while believing that we shall receive what we ask for in a good conscience and constitent with God's purpose for the world (i.e., praying for the Cubs to win the World Series probably won't be something that you receive, no matter how much you ask).

There used to be specific litanies for the Rogation Days - a set of prayers that were repeated each of the three days. I found a copy of what may be the last version of the Lesser Litanies (those for the three days before the Ascension) at this web page.

There used to be (and perhaps still are in some places) certain customs associated with these Rogation Days. Farmers would have a priest bless their crops in the field, praying for a bountiful harvest. Priests and churchwardens would walk all along the legal boundaries of their parishes in a ceremony known as "beating the bounds." The purpose was to pray for God's protection of the parish and its inhabitants. In the days when a priest was supported financially by the produce of the lands within his parish, it was probably also important once a year to re-establish what those boundaries were, so that there would be no dispute at harvest-time.

It's perhaps a good idea to ask why we need to set aside specific days of the year to remember certain people or events, or to remind ourselves to pray. After all, Jesus' advice was clear: "pray always." [Luke 21:36]

I think that the Church is being realistic. There are so many things going on in our lives that a gentle reminder to remember to pray is a good idea. We commemorate people like Mary and Elizabeth because they represent those who have gone before us in the faith - our spiritual ancestors. Just as we have fond memories of our grandparents and other family members, so we like to remember important events in the lives of Christians who came before us. In addition, the saints serve as examples. They show us that it really is possible to live a holy life, even when we fall into sin and seem to be helpless. The saints were no different - only Jesus lived a sinless life - and their struggles and triumphs inspire us to keep trying. God gives us the saints as living proof that God loves us, that God acts in people's lives, and that God rewards those who are faithful.

Likewise, setting aside certain days for certain types of prayers is a way that the Church shows us that we should be serious about living our faith. "Pray always" can be done by anyone, as long as we keep in mind that the majority of those "always" prayers will be a single thought or word. There is also a need for longer prayers, for prayers with a set structure and purpose, and rogation days help to encourage us to find the time for those prayers, too.

May you have a blessed Feast of the Visitation, remembering Mary and Elizabeth, and cherishing Mary's beautiful canticle of praise, the Magnificat. May you also take some extra time today and tomorrow to pray and praise God for all that we have received.

To the Unknown God...

2011-05-28T12:48:00.001-04:00

Sixth Sunday of Easter + Year A (RCL)

Reflections Following the Non-Event on Saturday

2011-05-23T16:22:00.000-04:00

Sermon (not Homily) for Sunday, May 15

Easter 5 + Year A (RCL)

First of all, the fact that we are all here in church this morning means one of two things: either the Rapture did not occur yesterday, as predicted by Harold Camping and the folks at Family Radio, or it did occur and none of us were found worthy of being carried off to heaven! Since a quick look around seems to indicate that nobody was carried off, either the prophets of doom are correct, and our entire society is so evil and corrupt that we are all damned, or in fact no one was carried off, and the Rapture did not occur. Regardless of the explanation, I’m very glad to be here with you all this morning!

What exactly is this “Rapture” of which some speak? Is it in the Bible? Do all Christians believe in it?

The dictionary tells us two interesting things about the word, “rapture.” First, in everyday speech, it means something like ecstasy, joy, delight, a high state of happy emotions. Additionally, if someone looks at you with rapt attention, he or she is completely focused on what you are saying.

In specifically Christian (or I should say “evangelical Christian”) parlance, “The Rapture” refers to a predicted event that is barely mentioned in the Bible.

On the gloomier side, the people who study the origins of words [etymologists] tell us that “rapture” comes from the Latin word raptus meaning “to seize, kidnap, or carry off,” and it is also the source of our word “rape.” I’m sure that has nothing to do with the intended sense of the word among those Christians who speak of it.

So where does this belief in something called “The Rapture” come from? First of all, the word “rapture” is never used in the Bible. It is also important to point out that the idea of the Rapture is not very old. It appears to have originated with the American evangelical preachers Increase and Cotton Mather in the 1700s. They didn’t use the word, though – that was left to Philip Doddrige and John Gill, theologians of the 18^th century. Before that time, the concept appears not to have existed in Christian theology or thinking at all.

Today, those who propose believing in this event look primarily to First Thessalonians, which biblical scholars believe is the oldest of Paul’s epistles:

¹⁵For this we declare to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will by no means precede those who have died.^* ¹⁶For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. ¹⁷Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord for ever. [1 Thess 4:15-17 NRSV]

The word that is here translated “caught up” is a bit watered-down. The Greek word that Paul used (harpagesómetha or ἁρπαγησόμεθα) has the sense of being “grabbed roughly” or “snatched.” It is not a gentle invitation that Jesus is offering here!

Let’s look at this in context. At the beginning of his ministry, Paul (and possibly most Christians) believed that Jesus was going to return very soon – if not immediately, then at the very least while some of them were still alive. It was not in their mind-set to think that they would have to wait long, and the Gospels seem to confirm that idea. Matthew 16:28, Matthew 10:23, Mark 9:1, and Luke 9:27 all say more or less that same thing: “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.” [Matthew 16:28]

Jesus clearly seems to be assuring his hearers that some of them will still be living by the time that he returns. How do we deal with this, given the fact that every one of them has now been dead for around two thousand years? Was Jesus wrong? Was he misleading them? Did his words mean something other than their clear, obvious meaning?

Some Christians, called “Preterists,” say that all of Jesus’ prophecies were fulfilled shortly after his death when, in the year 70, the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed forever. Preterists would say that all of Jesus’ warnings came true once and for all when the people of Judea, ignoring his teachings, were punished with the conquest of their nation and the destruction of the most holy place in their religion.

Other Christians believed that all of Jesus’ promises about the coming of the kingdom took place (i.e., were fulfilled) at the Transfiguration, when he was seen in glory alongside Moses and Elijah. The fact that the verses quoted above almost immediately precede the account of the Transfiguration in all three Gospels is cited to link the two and suggest that the Transfiguration fulfilled the promise that some would not taste death until they saw the Son of Man coming in his Kingdom. In other words, there is nothing left to be fulfilled.

For most other Christians, the question remained open – what did Jesus mean, and when is he going to return? It is further complicated by the lengthy passage in Revelation chapters 5-22, in which many details of the Last Judgment are described, along with a number of apparent prophecies of things that will happen first, to signal that important event.

So, starting with the assumption that the Preterists and Transfigurationists are incorrect, and that Jesus’ promise was not fulfilled during his lifetime or shortly thereafter, most Christians believe that it is an event that is yet-to-come. Just when that will be is the subject of interest, debate, and consternation.

If we acknowledge that Jesus really meant that he would return in person and live in the world again, although in a glorified bodily state, then we can talk about what that might be like, and what sequence of events might transpire in order for that to happen.

That’s where 1 Thess 4:15-17 comes into focus. At the time these verses were written (probably around the year 52), the destruction of the Temple was still almost 20 years in the future. Paul had visited Thessalonica and founded a Christian community there, and now he was writing to offer them some additional guidance. Perhaps to reassure those to whom he was writing, Paul addresses two questions.

One of the things on the minds of the Thessalonians is the question of the return of Jesus, which Paul seems to have thought would happen very soon. “What about those Christians who did not live long enough to be alive when Jesus returns?” the Thessalonians seem to have been asking. By extension, they are also asking, “what’s it going to be like when Jesus returns? What’s going to happen.”

We don’t know if Paul had a vision, or whether he had learned this description from other apostles, or even whether this was a commonly-held picture of the return of Jesus from his time. We only know that he wrote to reassure the Thessalonians of one important thing: their relatives who had died would not miss out on the resurrection. In fact, they would be the first to benefit from it.

In Paul’s view, when Jesus returns, “the dead in Christ will rise first.” [1 Thess 4:16] That is, Jesus first will take to himself all faithful Christians of all time who have lived and died loving him and following his teaching. This will be accompanied by the call of an archangel (Michael, according to Revelation) and the sound of God’s trumpet – an awe-inspiring event to say the least.

Only after all the faithful departed have risen from their graves and begun to be “caught up in the clouds… to meet the Lord in the air,” will attention be turned to those who are still living. Why will they meet him “in the air?” Acts of the Apostles says, “After [Jesus] said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. 'Men of Galilee,' they said, 'why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.'” [Acts 1:9-11] Jesus went to heaven by rising into the sky, so he will return by descending from the sky, if you take this literally.

There’s one other aspect of the Rapture in many evangelical interpretations: namely, that it will not happen to everyone. Matthew and Luke repeat the same idea of Jesus: two people will be side-by-side (working in the field, grinding the grain, or even lying in bed), and one of the them will be “taken” while the other is “left behind” (hence, the title of a series of popular novels about these events). [Matthew 24:36-41 and Luke 17:30-36]

There we have it. Two unrelated biblical passages at the root of all the ruckus yesterday. Jesus described the “coming of the Son of Man” as an event that will affect people in two ways: those who believe will be saved; those who do not believe will not be saved (left behind). Paul envisions the dead in Christ rising from their graves and meeting him in the sky, followed by all good Christians, also flying away.

This may in fact be TMI – too much information about history, Scripture, and theology for this brief homily. Let me end by emphasizing what we (and I would dare say most Christians today) believe.

Jesus will come again. He promised it, and we do not doubt it for a moment. He also said in various places [see Matthew 24:36 and Mark 13:32] that no one would know exactly when that will happen. He said this in order to remind to always be ready: “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.” [Matthew 24:42].

The exact details of his Second Coming, the Last Judgment and the End of the World (all lumped together in the branch of theology called eschatology) are left a bit vague. The early Christian Church asked for some kinds of reassurance: tell us when it’s going to happen, if you know, and assure us that our dead relatives will also be saved. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and Paul all attempted to offer some insights, but it is not wise to base an entire theology on a handful of verses taken out of context.

Rather than going on here, I can do no better than to quote directly from the Book of Common Prayer, page 863. The Outline of the Faith (commonly called the Catechism) begins by quoting the Nicene Creed:

Q. What do we mean by the last judgment?

A. We believe that Christ will come in glory and judge the living and the dead.

Q. What do we mean by the resurrection of the body?

A. We mean that God will raise us from death in the fullness of our being, that we may live with Christ in the communion of the saints.

Q. What is the communion of saints?

A. The communion of saints is the whole family of God, the living and the dead, those whom we love and those whom we hurt, bound together in Christ by sacrament, prayer, and praise.

Q. What do we mean by everlasting life?

A. By everlasting life, we mean a new existence, in which we are united with all the people of God, in the joy of fully knowing and loving God and each other.

Q. What, then, is our assurance as Christians?

A. Our assurance as Christians is that nothing, not even death, shall separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

Whenever the End of the World comes, however it happens, Christians need to be ready at all times. Every moment on earth, every breath we take, could easily be our last, most likely with no warning at all. That is no reason to panic, to sell all our possessions, to take to the streets to warn everyone. We teach the Second Coming at all times, not only on specific dates, and we subscribe to the belief that Jesus will judge all with mercy, love, and justice. That’s all we have, and all we need.

Anglican Dominican Novices

2011-05-20T10:51:00.000-04:00

Laudare, Benedicere, Praedicare

It is my great privilege to announce that three persons have petitioned the Rector of the Order, Sister Elena, asking to make their Novice Promises in the Anglican Order of Preachers. All three have been elected by the Province of the Transfiguration, and they will make their Promises this summer.

They are, in alphabetical order: Christopher Douglas-Huriwai of Christchurch, New Zealand; Erich Junger of Frankfurt, Germany; and Franklin Kline of St Louis, Missouri.

I have had the pleasure of guiding their postulancy, beginning in February of this year, and I am convinced that they are all called by God to join us, and that they will bring outstanding gifts to the Order.

Chris is a seminarian, preparing for the priesthood in the Anglican Church of Aotearoa, New Zealand, and Polynesia, studying in Auckland, NZ. His blog tells a lot about him.

Erich is an American priest (Diocese of Washington, DC), living and working in Germany. He is currently assisting at Christ the King Church in Frankfurt, which is a parish of the Convocation of Episcopal Churches in Europe (a diocese of The Episcopal Church, headquartered in Paris).

Frankling is a layman and is very active in Christ Church Cathedral in St Louis (Diocese of Missouri). The members of the Order had the pleasure of meeting and worshipping with him at last year's Chapter meeting.

God has richly blessed the Anglican Dominicans with people of strong faith, a passion for preaching, and a desire to seek and serve Christ in all persons. I am confident that Chris, Erich, and Franklin will all be excellent members of the Order.

May God bless them as they continue their spiritual journey, and may we all be blessed by their ministries.

Brother Tom Hudson, OPA
Province of the Transfiguration
Anglican Order of Preachers

The Four Marks of Christianity

2011-05-13T18:46:00.002-04:00

Acts 2:42

Those who had been baptized devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

ἦσαν δὲ προσκαρτεροῦντες τῇ διδαχῇ τῶν ἀποστόλων καὶ τῇ κοινωνίᾳ, τῇ κλάσει τοῦ ἄρτου καὶ ταῖς προσευχαῖς.

Fourth Sunday of Easter + Year A (RCL)

Today, we get a glimpse of the life of the early Christian Church. It was a peaceful, devotional kind of place. People were filled with awe – not only because of the miracles that Peter and John and the other disciples of Jesus were performing, but because living together as a community was so fulfilling. Their life was simple: they went to the Temple to pray every day (so they must have been located close by it), they “broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts” [Acts 2:46] They praised God and enjoyed “the goodwill of all the people.” As a result, more people joined their number all the time (in fact, 3000 were baptized in one day – not something that I would want to try to do, even if I had eleven helpers!).

It might be tempting to yearn for such a tranquil and simple time, to live like those early Christians, in harmony with themselves and everyone, having no needs unmet, able to spend all their time in prayer and praise to God. In fact, there was a group of Americans who were so attracted to that type of life that they attempted to recreate it for themselves. In 1774, a group whose official name was “The Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing” came to this land from England. Today, we call them the Shakers. They established a community (what we might today call a “commune”) in the tranquil countryside of up-state New York. They did all they could to live as we heard described in Acts today: they owned everything collectively, they worked and shared what they produced and earned with the entire community. They spent a good part of each day in prayer and worship. They took all their meals together, both the ordinary ones and the Holy Communion.

It might seem that these people had gotten it right – a Christian community in which everyone has a part to play, and in which they all live in awe of the wonderful works that God is doing in their midst. But things went awry.

First, their first leader was a widow who had had four children die in childhood. She studied the Bible, especially some of the letters of Paul, and concluded that since Christ was coming again so soon, all members of the Shakers must remain unmarried and celibate. Unlike the community in Acts, this had the effect of not attracting large numbers of people to join the Shakers. In fact, the primary way that they grew in numbers was by offering a home to orphans, raising them, and hoping that they would stay in the community when they grew up. Many did, but by January of this year (2011), there are only three Shakers left, living in a small village in Maine.

None of this is meant to deny the beauty and goodness of what we have read in Acts. In a special act of grace and mercy, God granted those first Christians a brief period of tranquility and harmony, in which to get ready to face the challenges of living in a hostile world.

So, let’s look at the four “hallmarks” of that first Christian community (the things that identified them as Christians), and especially consider how we can and should apply them to our own lives as Christians today.

Acts chapter two, verse 41, lists the four things to which those who had been baptized were devoted:

· the apostles’ teaching

· fellowship

· the breaking of bread

· the prayers

Let us look at each of these in turn.

At this point in the Acts of the Apostles, we have had two powerful examples of “the apostles’ teaching” – two sermons preached by Peter. The first occurs when it is necessary to elect someone to take the place of Judas Iscariot – to be a new twelfth Apostle. The second, and more well-known, teaching of Peter occurs when they receive the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. In fact, today’s passage follows immediately after Peter preaches that first sermon.

So, what did “the apostles’ teaching” contain? Peter’s sermon has three parts. First, he reminds his hearers of the message of the prophets who foretold the coming of the Messiah. Then, he reminds them of what they saw and heard of Jesus, especially the many wonders that he worked. He points out that they condemned and killed Jesus, and then finally he proclaims that Jesus rose from the dead. Peter concludes, “Therefore let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified.” [Acts 2:36]

The key points of “the apostles’ teaching” were that God prepared the world for the coming of Jesus by sending many prophets to announce him. Then, God sent Jesus into the world to teach, heal, and show the power of God. Jesus’ own people rejected and killed him. God raised him from the dead, and Jesus is now Lord of heaven and earth. That is the simple heart of Christian faith, and that is what the earliest Christians believed. You may have noticed that Peter said nothing about abortion, homosexuality, divorce, war, evolution, immigration, gun control (my wife says it would have been “sword control”), Islam, or any of the other things that many preachers make central to their messages today.

The second hallmark of these “Acts Christians” was that they lived in fellowship. The Greek word that Luke used is koinonia (pronounced “koy-know-KNEE-uh” – in Greek, κοινωνίᾳ). This is a special word, and “fellowship” actually only begins to define it. Some definitions of koinonia mention things like “living in intimate communion with one another,” and “sharing, participating, and contributing” to one anothers well-being. The word is used 19 times in the New Testament, but this passage today is the very first time that it was used (at least, in the sequence of the books as we have them in the NT today).

Living in koinonia means

· giving up all selfishness, possessiveness, and greed

· caring more about the good of others and of the community as a whole than about oneself

· giving one’s heart, mind, and soul to the work of the community (prayer, worship, and manual labor)

· devoting oneself to the common goals of the community, even at the expense of denying one’s own wants or needs

In short, it sounds like an ideal sort of communism, or a lot like a monastery or convent.

The third mark of these early Christians was that they shared in a specific action, the breaking of bread. Biblical scholars see two levels to the meaning of that phrase. On the practical level, it suggests that everyone ate together in the same room. “Breaking bread” is a phrase that still today means having a meal together.

On the theological level, however, scholars (and many other Christians) see these words referring to the sacrament that we call the Eucharist or Holy Communion. The early Christians repeated Jesus’ actions at the Last Supper. It is not clear that they fully understood, at this early point, some of the things that have been revealed in our theology: that the bread and wine are the Body and Blood of Jesus, that they recall the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross, or that receiving the Body and Blood result in the forgiveness of our sins. There is no doubt, though, that this special, common meal created something very important: community.

Let’s look at that word a moment: comm-unity. Something that unites us together in a special bond and keeps us together after we leave the room. As much as forgiving sins and memorializing Jesus’ actions, breaking bread together as Christians is something that makes us into what we call ourselves: a church, a community, a group of people united by our faith and actions.

The teaching of the Apostles, koinonia fellowship, and the breaking of the bread – these were visible signs of “being Church” to these first Christians. And there was one more thing – the prayers.

Acts tells us that these Jewish Christians went to the Temple every day to pray. The Old Testament describes what that consisted of: morning prayers at sunrise, afternoon prayers at the time of a special sacrifice that was offered in the Temple, and prayers at sundown (which marked the beginning of the next day and also the beginning of all Jewish festivals, such as Passover). All of these prayer-times included recitation or singing of Psalms, as well as certain words that were repeated every day, with all present saying them together.

In Christianity, we have a similar tradition. We include a Psalm in every celebration of the Eucharist, as well as at Morning and Evening Prayer (and the other times that our church recognizes: Noonday and Bedtime). We repeat certain important prayers word-for-word every day, like the Lord’s Prayer, the Gloria, the Creed, and the blessing. Times may have changed, language been modernized, and newer versions replaced the traditional ones, but prayers in common are still a central part of our lives together as Christians.

What do we learn from looking at the first Christians, as described in today’s passage from Acts? First, they rejoiced at their lifestyle – one totally dedicated to living the life shown them by Jesus. Second, they didn’t just sit back and relax – they were faithful to the four hallmarks: the teaching of the Apostles, the fellowship or koinonia, the breaking of the bread, and the prayers.

And finally, it didn’t last long. Very soon, the Temple authorities threw Peter and John into prison for preaching about Jesus. The Romans cracked down on those who still thought the Messiah had come to overthrow the Emperor’s rule. Finally, these loving, sharing Christians split into factions over principles of theology and interpretation of Scripture, and the broken world of Christianity that we see today had its beginning.

None of that, though, is as important as what we can do today. We can look back with understanding and even longing to that first Christian community, and we can regain for ourselves the four hallmarks, albeit in a modern way.

The Apostles’ teaching for us today is colored by almost two thousand years of interpretation, translation, learning, study, and fighting, but the key is still the same: Jesus lived and died for you and me, so that our sins would be forgiven. Let us never lose sight of that fundamental teaching.

We can live in koinonia fellowship, not only for one hour on Sunday mornings, but in our daily lives, by caring about one another, by sacrificing our pride and some of our resources to help those in need around us, and we can share our faith and the wonderful blessings that it provides for us.

We can and do break the bread, in the way that Jesus instituted at that Last Supper. We also break bread together by sharing meals and other times together. This is a sign of our common family, our common goals, and our need to build each other up.

Finally, we join in prayers every day with people all over the world. Some prayers are formal and written, others are spontaneous and unique. Many of us pray some form or portion of the Psalms every day, and many have memorized one or more Psalms, which they use in their daily prayers.

All this is important because we must not lose what those early Christians had: a sense of being a community, a fellowship united by one purpose and devotion. The ways in which we demonstrate the four hallmarks today will naturally be very different from what the first Christians understood, but they are still important goals for which all of us should be working every day.

May Jesus, the Good Shepherd, guide and defend us on our path, and may we be faithful to the apostles’ teaching, fellowship, the breaking of the bread, and prayers. Amen!

God Our Mother...

2011-05-11T13:38:00.000-04:00

Feast of Julian of Norwich (May 8th)

Sunday was Mother’s Day, and it was also the day when our Episcopal Church honors the memory of Dame Julian of Norwich, a saint who lived in England in the 1300s.

There is not a lot of specific historical data about Julian. She was probably born in 1342 and lived at least until 1416. Even her name is not precise. Whatever name she was given at birth, she abandoned it and took the name of the church where she became an anchoress (a type of hermit who lived on the property of a church, cathedral, or shrine in the Middle Ages). Since it was the church of St Julian in the town of Norwich, England, she called herself Julian of Norwich.

At around the age of 30, Julian became deathly ill. As she lay, presumably on her deathbed, she had a series of intense mystical visions of Jesus Christ. Later in life, she recounted them, and someone wrote them down in a book that is called Revelations of Divine Love. It is from this book that we learn the most about Julian and her theology based around God’s love and compassion for all of creation.

One of the most interesting points in Julian’s mystical visions is very appropriate to discuss in connection with Mother’s Day: she said a lot about how God is our Mother, as well as our Father.

She wrote, “God chose to be our mother in all things.” Believing in the divinity of Jesus, she also wrote, “Our mothers bear us for pain and for death; our true mother, Jesus, bears us for joy and endless life. Christ carried us within him in love and travail, until the full time of his passion.”

Theologically speaking, there is no gender or sex to God. The Creator is not human, so words that apply to humans, animals, and other created things cannot accurately describe God. We are limited, however, by human language, and so we use a number of expressions to try to state what we know or believe about God.

For example, we are all familiar with the idea of calling God a shepherd – the 23^rd Psalm is the best example of this. Other ways in which we try to describe God include calling God a king, a father, and even a rock! Now, we all know that God is not a rock, but poetic language in which we think about the attributes of a rock and apply them to what we know of God works very well in helping us express our faith.

Likening God to a shepherd produces a clear image of the idea we want to express. It is a form of analogy. That is, when we say, “the Lord is my shepherd,” we are actually saying, “in some ways, God is a lot like a shepherd,” and then we might list those ways. But all analogies break down at some point, and the shepherd analogy is no exception. Shepherds look after their flocks; God looks after us. Shepherds protect their sheep from dangers, and God protects us. Shepherds lead their sheep to food and water; God leads us to the things that nourish and sustain us. Shepherds are human beings – whoops! God is not a human being, so the analogy reaches a point where it has to stop. God is not actually a shepherd, but is like a shepherd in certain ways that are important to us, or that we want to emphasize. In the same way, God is like a rock, a solid foundation on which we can build our faith. But God is not actually a rock, and none of us really think that.

So, God is also like a father to us in many ways. Fathers bring their children into existence; God creates each one of us. Fathers care for their children, and God cares for us. However, fathers are male human beings, and God is neither human nor male. It is true that God is like a father in important ways, but God is not actually a father. I am not suggesting for a moment that we should ever stop praying, “Our Father, who art in heaven,” but we must not take it literally or conclude that God is male.

Julian of Norwich correctly pointed out that God is also like a mother in many important ways. In doing so, she was only echoing many things that the Bible already says about God. In Isaiah 66:13, God says, “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.”

First John, chapter 4, reminds us that God loved us before we loved God. [1 John 4:19] God is referred to as having “great compassion” in the 51^st Psalm [Psalm 51:1] The Hebrew word for compassion is derived from the Hebrew word for the womb (rachmin/rechmen). God’s compassion toward us is that of a mother toward her child.

Perhaps it’s best to allow Julian to speak for herself:

As truly as God is our Father, so truly God is our Mother. God All Power is our natural Father, and God All Wisdom is our natural Mother, with the Love and the Goodness of the Holy Spirit―who is all one God, one Lord.

I understood three ways of looking at motherhood in God: the first is the creating of our human nature; the second is [the] taking of our human nature (and there commences the motherhood of grace); the third is motherhood of action (and in that is a great reaching outward, by the same grace, of length and breadth and of height and of depth without end) and all is one love.

This fair lovely word “mother” is so sweet and so kind in itself, that it can not truly be said of anyone nor to anyone except of Him and to Him who is true Mother of life and of all. To the quality of motherhood belongs natural love, wisdom, and knowledge — and this is God….The kind, loving mother who is aware and knows the need of her child protects the child most tenderly as the nature and state of motherhood wills. And as the child increases in age, she changes her method but not her love.

And so, on Mother’s Day, on Julian’s feast day―and on every day for that matter―we have the opportunity to behold and be thankful for God’s qualities, as a shepherd, a rock, a king, a father, and a mother. May we continue to learn all we can about our God and to love him-her with our whole hearts, minds, and spirits. Amen.

Mary, our Mother

2011-05-05T13:49:00.001-04:00

Third Sunday of Easter + Year A (RCL)

Mother’s Day 2011

Happy Mother’s Day! Let us keep all mothers, including our own, in our prayers in a special way today.

In looking for theology that applies to this day, we turn to the First Letter of Peter, which is our second lesson this morning. Peter begins his letter with a solemn proclamation: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” [I Peter 1:3]

Peter goes on to remind his audience (Christians living in present-day Greece and Turkey) of what they have been taught about Jesus: “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.” [I Peter 1:8-9]

This is the essence of the faith that Peter preached, and it is certainly central to our Christian faith today. Therefore, it is hard to imagine that there were disagreements for the first five hundred years about exactly who and what Jesus was.

The earliest Christians were people who had known or seen Jesus personally. They were focused on the wonders that he performed, the words of hope and reconciliation that he had preached, and especially on his suffering, death, and resurrection.

Later generations of Christians, people who had not had personal contact with Jesus, began to ask for more information and a better understanding of his true nature. And that’s where the problems began.

The Gospel of Mark begins, “…the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” [Mark 1:1] Matthew begins by calling Jesus, “the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” [Matthew 1:1] Luke tells Mary that her son will be “called the Son of the Most High.” [Luke 1:32] But it is John who most clearly lays out the faith of Christians: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” [John 1:1] John says it clearly: Jesus is God. Not merely the Son of God, the Messiah, but actually God. From that simple statement comes a long controversy that is not fully resolved, even today.

How could Jesus be God and also human? Even if we accept those words, how did it actually work? Did Jesus know that he was God? Did he give up his godly powers when he became a human being? The words are simple; understanding how this is possible and how it actually is true represents a challenge.

During the times of the persecutions of Christians, theology took a back seat. Survival was more important. However, once the Roman Empire recognized Christianity as a legal religion in the year 313 [Edict of Milan], and even more as Christianity quickly became the largest, and then the official, religion in the Empire, theological questions came to the forefront.

So, how did these early Christians answer the question: what does it mean to say that Jesus Christ is both God and man? As with any theological question, there were many answers, often in direct conflict with each other.

One early idea was that Jesus only “seemed” to be human. He was never really anything but God. This philosophy came from a belief that human flesh is evil, and therefore God could never take on real human nature. The result of this kind of thinking was that Jesus’ crucifixion was then only an act. Since Jesus did not have a real human body, he did not really feel pain, and did not really die. It may seem surprising to us today that some early Christians actually believed this, but it is true.

Another early theory was that Jesus started out in life as an ordinary human, not divine at all. He was only “adopted” by God as God’s Son and the Messiah of the Jews. This adoption was said to have taken place at the moment when Jesus was baptized by John in the River Jordan. It may even be true that some of the people who saw and knew Jesus had this idea – that he was a man chosen by God, but still only a man. We only need to read some of the gospels to notice the contradictory phrases, “Jesus was raised from the dead,” and “Jesus rose from the dead.” [Compare Matthew 17:9 and Acts 10:14] One expression seems to make the resurrection something that Jesus himself did, while the other seems to say that it is something that God did to Jesus.

Both of these early explanations―that Jesus only appeared to be human, and that he was an ordinary man adopted as God’s Son―were rejected formally by the theology of the Nicene Creed, which we will profess in a few minutes. But that didn’t end the controversy.

The Council of Nicaea [325 AD] and its creed clearly state that Jesus had two “natures” – human and divine, but the council did not say any more than that, leaving open the question of how these two natures existed together and interacted.

One early bishop, Nestorius, went so far as to claim that the divine and human natures of Christ both existed as separate entities, inside one human body. Rather than believing that the man who walked the roads of Galilee was both human and divine at the same time, Nestorius’ followers believed that the divine Jesus inhabited the body of the human Jesus, but that they were always two separate beings. After one of the early Church Councils [First Council of Ephesus, 431 AD] rejected this idea, Nestorius and his followers left the Christian Church and carried on their beliefs for centuries. Some of their ideas still crop up today.

One more attempted explanation of the divinity and humanity of Jesus went to another extreme. Eutyches, a church leader in Constantinople, believed that divinity was so much more important and powerful than humanity that he felt that Jesus as a man simply stopped doing anything. He became a sort of “divine robot,” only acknowledging and manifesting his divine nature. While Jesus was still clearly a man (he ate and slept and felt pain when he died), his human body was completely taken over by his divine side. This belief was also rejected by a church council, Chalcedon, in 451.

Today, you and I probably give very little thought to how Jesus is both human and divine. We have had the Nicene Creed for more than 1600 years. We just accept the reality, without questioning it, and we trust that God knows how it works and will reveal it to us when we see Jesus face to face.

I have presented all this history today for a reason, and it’s related to this Mother’s Day. That same Council of Chalcedon, which declared that Christ was human and divine, and that both natures existed equally at the same time in him, went a step further.

Being human, Jesus had to be born of a human mother. Luke tells us how an angel appeared to Miriam, or Mary, of Nazareth, and announced that she would give birth to the Son of the Most High. When Mary asked how this could happen, since she was not married and did not have relations with a man, the angel explained that it would happen through the action of the Holy Spirit.

A modern-day atheist might point out a perceived flaw in this idea. If Jesus did not have an earthly father, where did he get the Y chromosome that made him a male baby, since Mary could only contribute X, or female, chromosomes? Our answer to smart-aleck atheists is to remind them that Luke writes that “the power of the Most High” was to overshadow Mary. [Luke 1:35] The same God who created everything out of nothing could easily supply a little thing like a Y chromosome for the divine Son.

Thus, Mary became a special person, the mother of Jesus, the human baby born to her, and also the mother of Jesus, the divine man who taught and preached and died on the cross and rose from the dead. The Council of Chalcedon struggled almost as much with this idea as it did with the idea of how Jesus could have two natures.

Their final conclusion goes something like this. Mary was not divine, not special in her own birth; she was an ordinary human girl, although holy and pure as a virgin. God caused something miraculous to happen inside Mary's womb, and the result was the birth of a person with two natures, human and divine. Jesus did not get one nature from his human mother and the other from his divine Father, as some have mistakenly believed at various points in Christian history. Both natures came from God alone, and both natures took up their home in the baby born to Mary.

And what about Mary? She was a simple, ordinary person, asked by God to take on a challenging role and accepting it in faith and humility. She cared for Jesus for his entire earthly life. The Son of God knew the love and nurture of a mother.

Mary herself, the council declared, was the mother of Jesus, and since the council declared that Jesus was God, Mary was to be known as the “God-bearer” [in Greek, the Theotokos or Θεοτόκος], the Mother of God. Not in the sense that the eternal Father, creator of all the universe, including Mary herself, needed or could even have a mother, but in the sense that Immanuel, God-made-man, both needed and had an earthly mother. This fact explains why we honor Mary in such a special way in the Christian faith today.

On this Mother’s Day, we give thanks for our own mothers―those living among us, and those living in glory divine. We know, from personal experience, how important a mother’s love and nurture are to the lives of their children. We rejoice that Jesus, our brother, had a loving human mother to care for him, even as he hung on the cross. And we rejoice that God gave Mary to us as a woman with whom we may “share the glory of God’s eternal kingdom.” [Book of Common Prayer, page 243]

Through God’s actions in giving us Jesus, who is both human and divine, and in causing him to be born of his mother, Mary, the God-bearer, we have truly been given “a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” [I Peter 1:3] Amen!

"Believing Thomas"

2011-04-30T12:52:00.001-04:00

Second Sunday of Easter + Year A (RCL)

The Sunday after Easter is often called “Thomas Sunday” because we read the Gospel about so-called Doubting Thomas every year on this day. Thomas is a good example to us, because – whether we like to admit it or not – we all struggle with doubt from time to time.

Paul Tillich, the Lutheran theologian who fled Nazi Germany in 1940, helps us to put our doubts into proper perspective:

Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith;
it’s an element of faith.

So, I think we need to understand the proper role of doubt in our faith.

Thomas is held up to us every year as a kind of “bad example.” He wasn’t there when Jesus first appeared to his disciples after the Resurrection. They told him about it, but he didn’t believe them.

Does that mean that he didn’t hope they were telling the truth, that he didn’t want it to be true? Or does it mean that, in spite of wanting to believe, he was only human – he didn’t dare believe, to allow himself to think that Jesus wasn’t really dead?

If Tillich is right, if doubt is a part of faith, then we need to figure out where it fits.

The evangelist Dr Charles Stanley has identified three levels of faith.

He calls the first “struggling faith.”

It is characterized by the passage from Mark, chapter 9, in which a father brought his son, possessed by an evil spirit, to Jesus to be healed. When Jesus told the father that anything was possible to someone who truly believed, the father cried out, “I do believe! Help my unbelief!” All of us may echo these words from time to time.

Dr Stanley calls the second level of faith “reaching faith.”

He reminds us of the woman in Luke, chapter 8, who had been ill for 12 years. As she came near Jesus, she said to herself, “If I can only touch the hem of his garment, I'll be healed.” Like that woman, we sometimes seem to feel that if we can only do something, or think something, all will be well.

The last level of faith Stanley calls “resting faith” and it is described in Mark 11:24 – “anything you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and you will have it.”

I don’t have any problem with Dr Stanley defining this as the highest goal of faith, nor with trying our best to reach that point. Where I differ with him is that this is a goal that few ever attain – even the saints struggle with doubts. I won’t stand here and tell you that you can have certainty if you just try hard enough. That doesn’t work.

There must be a place for doubt in our believing, and this is what I think it is:

To doubt is to admit that we are human, weak, sinful, incomplete – in other words, that we need God’s help.

The good news is that God gives us “signs and wonders” all the time. Like Thomas, we sometimes need to see in order to believe, or perhaps it’s just in order to know that we do believe. That’s why I believe we should call this apostle “Believing Thomas.” Doubt is a natural part of believing, not a failure to believe or a betrayal of the person in whom we believe.

C.S. Lewis expressed what I consider to be the reality of being a Christian:

If ours is an examined faith,

we should be unafraid to doubt.

He pointed out that doubt may reveal that something was not worth believing, or it may confirm our faith and make it stronger. Either way, we grow in our faith, and doubt is a part of that growth process.

Let us show forth in our lives the fact that we believe in Jesus Christ, that we proclaim his resurrection and its promise to everyone, and let us accept our own doubts as proof that we are thinking beings who are still striving to live up to these promises.

Like Doubting Thomas, we dearly want to believe, but we also want to see. Until we get that proof, we continue to show forth in our lives that, even in the presence of doubts – perhaps especially in the presence of doubts – we have faith and we live that faith. Amen!

Prayers for the Aftermath of the Storms of the Past Week

2011-04-30T09:30:00.000-04:00

From the Book of Common Prayer, 1662:

The Almighty Lord, who is a most strong tower to all them that put their trust in him, to whom all things in heaven, in earth, and under the earth, do bow and obey, be now and evermore thy defence; and make thee know and feel, that there is none other Name under heaven given to man, in whom, and through whom, thou mayest receive health and salvation, but only the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

From the Book of Common Prayer, 1979:

Heavenly Father, giver of life and health: Comfort and relieve your servants, and give your power of healing to those who minister to their needs, that those for whom our prayers are offered may be strengthened in their weakness and have confidence in you loving care; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen

From Enriching our Worship II:

Loving God, the comfort of all who sorrow, the strength of all who suffer: accept our prayers, and to those who seek healing especially all who have been harmed or grieved by the devastating storms of this past week, grant the power of your grace, that the weak may be strengthened, sickness turned to health, the dying made whole, and sorrow turned into joy; through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.

He Is Risen!

2011-04-23T21:41:00.000-04:00

Easter, 2011

The world in which we live today is a very unsettling place. Natural disasters―earthquakes, fires, floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, nuclear melt-downs, as well as human threats―war, terrorists, crime in the streets, even crime within families―all contribute to a climate of constant fear. They can also lead us to give up hope and embrace despair and depression.

The prophet Jeremiah lived and wrote 2,700 years ago. In fact, biblical scholars believe that more than one person contributed to the book that bears his name. In the first part of the book, Jeremiah warns of God’s growing anger with the people, and of the dangers that they will face if they don’t return to God—including earthquake, fire, and flood. In the latter portion, from which today’s lesson is taken, a very different prophet offers the assurance that God has forgiven the people and has remained faithful to them, even though they have been punished by being taken as captives to Babylon.

It is from this hopeful section that we receive some of the most encouraging words in the Bible: “I have loved you with an everlasting love.” [Jeremiah 31:3]

“I have loved you with an everlasting love.” What does that mean for us today? As I said when I began, when we look at the world around us, it is easy to conclude that things are in a pretty awful mess. In response to our plea for help, God always replies, “I have loved you with an everlasting love.”

How do we know for sure that God loves us? Actually, there are some very simple ways to see this. The first is to look around and see the magnificence of this universe that God created for us to live in.

Whether we believe the world was created in six days or in a “big bang” 13 billion years ago, we can all agree on one thing: the universe that God created was not meant to be a bad place. At the end of every step of creation, the Bible tells us, “God saw that it was good.” Something happened to turn God’s good creation into what we have today. This world is not the way God meant it to be. How can that have happened?

Whether we know the names of the first humans, or whether they stood up one day and looked around after millions of years of evolution, there can be no doubt that, at some point in time, human beings recognized that they had two choices: good and evil—and they chose evil. On a personal level, there was a point, early in the lives of each one of us, when we, too, decided to do what was bad instead of what was good.

One way that we know that God loves us with an everlasting love is by recognizing one of the greatest gifts that God gave us – the freedom to choose.

Just three weeks ago, our bishop stood in this church and reminded us of an important fact about God. God is all-powerful, but not all-controlling. God did not want a bunch of robots.

God loved us with an everlasting love, so God took the tremendous risk of creating us with the freedom to choose between good and evil, all the while knowing that we might make the wrong choice and suffer for it. And we did just that.

It is a sign of God’s love that we were allowed to sin, and it is also a sign of God’s love that we were then subjected to the just punishment for choosing to sin. All parents want the best for their children, and God is no different. But, like a loving parent, God also realized that it was necessary to allow us to make our own decisions and learn from the consequences of those decisions. It may be “tough love,” but there is no denying that God’s love for us is everlasting, no matter what mistakes we have made or wrongs we have committed. But God did not intend for it to end that way, no matter how bleak things may look to us.

In 1944, the French playwright and philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, wrote a play that he called “No Exit.” The entire play takes place in a room with no windows, only one door. A man is brought into the room and the door is locked behind him. Soon, two other people are also brought in and locked in the room. All three gradually realize that they are in hell, and their punishment is that they are there to torture each other for all eternity.

As the play unfolds, they do indeed reveal all human sins: cowardice, greed, anger, jealousy, hatred. They gang up two-against-one, constantly changing sides.

They reveal each other’s most heinous sins, and the consequences that those sins have brought upon those around them.

Finally, the man has had all he can stand and he shouts for the door to be unlocked. The door flies open, but the man realizes that he cannot bring himself to leave. His weakness and attachment to the habit of his sins means that there is “no exit” from his torment. In absolute despair, he cries out, “hell is other people!”

That is surely a bleak and depressing picture, written by an atheist, offering nothing but despair, but not so unlike the warnings of prophets like Jeremiah, at least the early part of that prophet’s book.

However, we remember on this Easter morning that God loves us with an everlasting love. For us, the sins and torment of this life are real and painful. Like the man in the play, we have become so accustomed to our sins that we cannot bring ourselves to give them up. As Jesus said in the Gospel of John, we have become “slaves to sin.” [John 8:34] We have become our own accusers and our own tormenters. We make our own hell.

Hell is not other people, as the character in Sartre’s play believed. Hell is the way that you and I keep returning to sin, no matter how hard we try to do what is right—but there is an important difference between our lives as Christians and the people in the play. For us, there is an exit.

When you and I go over to that open door and peer through it, we see that God’s love for us is truly everlasting. On the other side of the door… we see… an empty tomb!

Alleluia! The Lord is risen indeed!

Torn Curtain

2011-04-22T09:40:00.001-04:00

Good Friday, 2011

From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?" that is, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, "This man is calling for Elijah." At once one of them ran and got a sponge, filled it with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink. But the others said, "Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him." Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. [Matthew 27:45-51]

Only three of the gospels say anything about the birth of Jesus; only three describe the Last Supper. Only one contains the Sermon on the Mount (although another has a Sermon on the Plain). Many of our favorite stories about Jesus are recorded in only one or two gospels, but the death and resurrection of Jesus are found in all four. That gives a clear indication of how central these events were for the first Christians, and how important they are to Christians today.

On this “Good” Friday, we remember particularly the events that began with Jesus’ arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane, his betrayal by one of his closest friends, and the cruel treatment and rejection that he received from the leaders of his religion. Our sad walk on today's Way of the Cross began with Jesus being condemned to death. We can only imagine how he must have felt. All his work, the people he healed, the truths he spoke, now come down to this: he will be put to death for challenging the status quo, for threatening the power and privilege of the religious leaders, for stirring up people who just might try to overthrow the government of Rome. “What shall we do with this man?” “Crucify him!”

We followed Jesus on that Via Dolorosa, that Way of Sorrows, and we shared each sorrow as we meditated upon it. I don’t know which of them touched you the most, which ones spoke in your heart, “I’m sorry you had to endure that, dear Lord―for me.” Whichever ones they were, I hope you will keep them in mind over the next 48 hours, the time when the world held its breath as its Lord and Savior lay in a rock-hewn tomb.

There is a detail surrounding the moment of Jesus’ death that is only found in Mark and Matthew. When Jesus’ uttered a loud cry of agony and then breathed his last, an important thing happened, but it is a detail that we can easily miss.

When Solomon built the Temple in Jerusalem, he modeled it after the Tent of Meeting that Moses had set up for the Hebrew people to worship God during their 40 years’ Exodus in the desert. Of course, the tent was portable, so it was light-weight and small in dimensions. Solomon went far beyond the original plan in building a vast temple complex on the top of Mount Zion.

Solomon’s Temple was laid out as a series of courts, one inside another, ending in the most sacred place, the Holy of Holies. Anyone could congregate in the outermost court, but only faithful Jews could enter the gates to the more sacred spaces. The first interior court was open to all Jews, but only men could pass through to the next level. Approaching the holiest place, there was an area where only priests could enter, and there were altars there where the priests offered sacrifices night and day.

Finally, there was the most sacred spot on earth to the Jews, the Holy of Holies, or inner sanctum. It was the tallest of all the Temple buildings. Inside was the Ark of the Covenant, containing the original stones of the Ten Commandments. The only person on earth who was allowed to enter that space was the High Priest, and he was only permitted to do it on one day each year, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.

When he went in, the High Priest had completed eight days of ritual purification. Not only was it the holiest place in the world, but God was very particular about holiness and it was believed that God would instantly strike dead anyone who tried to enter without being properly sanctified.

The High Priest wore special vestments on this day: a long coat with bells sewn onto the hem, and a long, silken cord for a belt that reached all the way outside the Holy of Holies. The bells told those on the outside that the High Priest was still alive and moving around, and the cord allowed them to pull his body out, should God strike him down for some sin or misstep.

The Holy of Holies was separated from the rest of the Temple―and from the rest of the world―by a tall, heavy curtain that reached from floor to ceiling. That curtain said to everyone, “the Lord God, in all his power and might, is inside here; you are not worthy to enter or to see inside.”

I think you get the picture. The Temple was the holiest place on earth for Jews. The inner sanctum was the holiest place in the Temple, and the closest place that humans could get to God. The great curtain kept people out, and it kept God in.

At the moment when Jesus died, the world changed. Until then, sin had separated us from God, from the beginning of time. No matter how many times we repented and turned back to God, we always sinned again. No matter how hard we tried to do what was right, we always ended up doing something that was wrong. We were powerless to break the endless cycle of sin. It was a hopeless situation, and we could do nothing about it.

So God did something about it. God sent Jesus, his Son, the Second Person of the Trinity, to us. Jesus lived among us and taught, and healed. But the most important thing that Jesus did was to die for us, for our sins. And when he did―at the very moment when he took his last breath―everything changed. The chasm between us and God that was caused by our sins was closed. All the things that separated us from fully knowing and loving God for all eternity were destroyed. And the curtain in the Temple, that symbol of separation, was rent in two from top to bottom. No longer were we kept away from God’s holiness; no longer were we unworthy to be in God’s presence; and no longer would we die forever because of our sins.

The Way of the Cross is the Way of Life, the Way of Salvation, the Way of Redemption. Jesus had to walk that Way alone. No one could do it for him, certainly not one of us. But at the end of that Way lay hope, lay redemption, lay reconciliation between God and man. Jesus walked that lonesome road―for you and for me, and we thank God today for his love in doing so. Amen.

Four Words to Remember

2011-04-21T09:08:00.000-04:00

Maundy Thursday, 2011

This evening we celebrate – that is, we commemorate or remember – a central event in the life of the Church. We may call it The Last Supper, or the Passover, or Eucharist (from the Greek word meaning “giving thanks”), and for many centuries Anglicans have called it Holy Communion, meaning “that which unites us.”

Whatever we call this event, I would like us to suggest that we think about it in a different way this evening. I would like us to focus on just four words.

In the Gospels and in Paul’s Letter to the Corinthians, we are told that Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it. Those are the four words that we are going to concentrate on tonight.

At that Passover meal, Jesus used bread to give his disciples something very special, but that was not the only time that the Gospels tell us about Jesus using bread in a special way. One afternoon in Galilee, Jesus had been preaching and teaching all day long. In the evening, his disciples came to him and said, “these people are hungry. Tell them to go home and eat.” And what did Jesus do? He said, “feed them yourselves!” Then Jesus took five loaves of bread, blessed them, broke them, and gave and gave and gave until more than 5,000 people were fed and there were baskets of left-overs. How about another time Jesus used bread?

On the afternoon of Easter Sunday, two disciples were walking on the road. A stranger joined them and they talked as they went on their way. When evening came, the two disciples invited the stranger to eat with them and stay the night. At the table, the stranger took bread, blessed it, broke it, and when he gave it to them “their eyes were opened” and they saw that it was Jesus.

So, on many occasions, but especially the one we celebrate tonight, Jesus used bread. But that’s not the only thing we celebrate. In the Gospel of John, Jesus says “I am the bread of life.” Jesus not only took bread, he is bread. And yes, that means that the four words apply to Jesus, too.

God took Jesus from heaven and put him here among us. God blessed Jesus. At his baptism and again at his transfiguration, God’s voice was heard saying, “this is my beloved Son, on whom my favor rests. Hear him.”

And God broke Jesus. Just moments after the Last Supper, Jesus was arrested, beaten, insulted, humiliated, made to carry a cross, and tortured to death – for you and me – so that on the third day, God could give him to us – as our Risen Lord and Savior.

Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it. God took Jesus, blessed him, broke him, and gave him to us.

But the story doesn’t end here. In Ephesians, Paul tells us that we are the Body of Christ. At the end of Rite One Eucharist, we thank God that we are “very members” of Jesus. In this sense, “very” means “real” or “true” and “members” means “body parts.” We are God’s hands and feet in this world, God’s eyes and ears, heart and voice. God is present to this world through you and me.

And yes, that means that the four words also apply to us. God took us out of this world. At our baptism, we died and were born again, not as people of this world, but as citizens of God’s heavenly kingdom. And God blesses us with the Body and Blood of Jesus, with the gifts of the Holy Spirit at confirmation, and with all the sacraments and blessings that the Church gives us. And we are also broken – by sin and suffering, sickness, loss, despair, disaster, and ultimately death. All so that God can give us to this world – to be God’s hands and feet, eyes and ears, God’s very members!

That’s what I hope you’ll remember as we worship tonight – those four words. The bread of Holy Communion, Jesus himself, and you and me – taken, blessed, broken, and given. What a wonderful gift God has given us, not only to receive the Body of Christ, but to BE the Body of Christ – Jesus the head and we the members. Let us praise and thank God for this sacred mystery! Amen.

All Glory, Laud, and Honor... and then a Beating, Torture, and Death

2011-04-14T11:53:00.006-04:00

Palm Sunday, 2011 (officially, “The Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday” - BCP 270)

In the “old” calendar of the Episcopal Church (i.e., pre-1979), the Fifth Sunday of Lent was known as Passion Sunday, and the Sunday before Easter was Palm Sunday. Because these two events were out of sequence, and because of the desire to keep five distinct Sundays in Lent, the two observations were merged, first by the Roman Catholic Church in 1969, and then in our own church, with the 1979 revised Prayer Book. The advantage is that we keep five Lenten Sundays; the disadvantage is that we endure a rapid decompression from the triumph of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem to his Passion and Death, all in one morning.

In one sense, that may be a good thing, and it may reflect the wide range of emotions that his disciples undoubtedly experienced: from the high of seeing jubilant crowds welcome Jesus as Messiah and King, to the casting-out of the moneychangers in the Temple, to the Last Supper (which may or may not have been a Passover Seder), to the Agony in the Garden, the arrest, two or more trials, the Via Dolorosa, crucifixion, death, and burial of Jesus ― all in less than a week (if the chronology in the Gospels is not simply a compression of many different events over a longer period of time).

So, let us take things as they are. Our service commences (often outside the church) with a retelling of the Gospel story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. This is a story that made a big impact on his followers. It is recounted in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, but not even mentioned in John, who often tells very different stories than the Synoptics do. This year (2011), we hear Matthew’s version.

We need to keep in mind that Matthew wrote for non-Jewish Christians, so he often had to explain Hebrew or Aramaic words, and almost always explained Jewish rituals and traditions. In addition, he frequently referred back to the Hebrew Bible (“Old Testament”) to show his audience, who may not have been familiar with that book, how Jesus was the fulfillment of prophecies.

Sure enough, Matthew does that in our reading for this morning. He quotes Zechariah 9:9, which is part of a lambasting prophecy foretelling the destruction of Israel’s enemies and the coming of a new king:

“Tell the daughter of Zion,

Look, your king is coming to you,

humble, and mounted on a donkey,

and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

But here we run into a funny translation problem. The version that we will probably read is from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, and it creates a strange picture:

“The disciples... brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.” [Mt 21:6-7 NRSV, emphasis mine]

Really? Jesus sat on a donkey and a colt at the same time? NOT! First of all, Zechariah 9:9 in Hebrew does not say “on a donkey, and on a colt.” Rather, it says, “a donkey, even upon a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Zechariah was trying to emphasize the humility of the coming king: not riding in a chariot or on a great white horse, but rather on a donkey, in fact not even a full-grown donkey, but just a colt.

It is interesting to note that both Mark and Luke leave this confusing statement out and only have Jesus riding on “a colt.” So, why the difference? The author of Matthew was once again tying the New Testament to the Old by referencing the prophecy, but he was using the Septuagint version of the Jewish scriptures. (The Septuagint was written in Greek, not Hebrew, and it was a translation that differed significantly from the standard Hebrew version.)

Either way, we get the picture: Jesus, the Messiah of God, enters the holy city of Jerusalem very humbly riding a lowly beast of burden. Of course, it might have been even more humble just to walk, but apparently Jesus realized that mobs of people were waiting for him, so he may have felt the need for the protection of riding a bit above the crowd and for the sure-footedness of a donkey.

Well, we know how the people reacted. Or do we? We have three different descriptions, and none of them says anything about palms! Matthew says that “a very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.” [Mt 21:8] Mark tells it slightly differently: “Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields.” [Mk 11:8] Finally, Luke has no branches at all: “As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks along the road.” [Lk 19:36]

How do we explain this? First of all, biblical scholars believe that the Gospels were all written many years after the events that they describe, so they are not eye-witness accounts. They are the product of the memories of the people who were there. In fact, the timing of the writing of the Gospels suggests that the eye-witnesses were dying off, and the Church wanted to preserve their memories for future generations. Second, with twelve disciples and dozens (hundreds?) of other people there, it is not surprising that some people remembered one detail, while others remembered things differently. Finally, the writers of the Gospels were each writing for a specific audience, a specific group of early Christians, and they tailored their writing as necessary. Matthew, again, was showing the connection between Jesus and the prophecies concerning the Messiah ― all you have to do is to read Matthew, chapter 1, verse 1, to see his stated purpose for writing his Gospel. Mark’s Gospel is believed to be the first that was written down. It is the shortest, which suggests that those who came after him added details that he had not included. Luke wrote for a highly-educated Greek-speaking population outside the Holy Land, so he often goes in directions that make sense to that audience.

However the events were remembered, and whichever details we read, we get the picture: people had heard about Jesus, the teacher and preacher and miracle-worker from Nazareth in Galilee. His reputation preceded him. Some may have thought that he could be the promised Messiah, but their vision of the Messiah was a soldier-king like David, who would reclaim their land from the Romans. Many were probably just curious. Some welcomed Jesus as an honored figure, laying their garments on the dusty road to keep the air clean so they could see him better and to protect his clothes from being soiled. It was common in processions and celebrations to wave branches in the air as a sign of joy. There were and are certainly palm trees in the area around Jerusalem. We have no way of knowing whether they lined the road that Jesus took into the city, or were in the nearby fields (the most common form of palm tree at that time was the one that produced dates as fruit ― those would have been in an orchard).

In Matthew and Mark, the crowd cries out, “Hosanna!” ― a Hebrew word meaning “help us, save us, we pray.” It is not the joyful hallelujah (“let us give praise to God”), but rather a cry for assistance that we hear. Luke leaves it out, probably because it is a Jewish term and he is writing for Greeks and Romans.

All three Gospels then quote Psalm 118, verses 25 and 26: “blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Notice that there is no recognition that Jesus comes as Lord. Rather, the comparison is made between Jesus and David, a human king, a man who sinned as often as he acted the way God wanted. As we are reminded in Eucharistic Prayer D, Jesus is not the same as David or any earthly king. He ”lived as one of us, yet without sin.” [BCP, 374] Nevertheless, David was a precious hero to the Jewish people: he united them as their second king, he set up a grand capital city on Mount Zion, and he moved the sacred Tabernacle to the place where his son, Solomon, would build the Temple where all Jewish sacrifice would take place. Only Matthew specifically calls Jesus “the son of David.” [Mt 21:9] Only Luke calls Jesus a king. [Lk 19:38]

It must have been a spectacle. The reaction of the crowds was tumultuous. Perhaps they just saw it as an opportunity to remind the Romans that they didn’t like them. Maybe it was just a contagion of excitement, with most people not really knowing what was going on.

At any rate, each Gospel tells us something different about what happened next. In Mark, Jesus goes into the Temple, looks around at everything, and then, because it was late, leaves Jerusalem and goes back to Bethany. [Mk 11:11] In Matthew’s version, Jesus also goes into the Temple, but he gets right to work: he drives out the moneychangers and begins healing all the people who come to him. [Mt 21:12-14] In Luke, some of the Pharisees stop Jesus and ask him to order his followers to be silent (which he refuses to do). Before Jesus cleanses the Temple, as he does in Matthew, Luke shows him looking at the great city and its Temple and weeping for it. [Lk 19:41]

So, what lessons can we take away from this significant event in the life of Our Lord? First, he was a well-known figure, considered to be a prophet by some, hoped for as a king by others. As much as Jesus’ fame had preceded him to Jerusalem on this day, the truths that he was teaching apparently had not:

The Son of Man came to serve, not be served.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

The first shall be last, and the last shall be first.

God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God in them.

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

These are not the proclamations of a conquering hero!

The crowd on that first Palm Sunday was not so different from people today. They saw a famous person and concentrated only on his fame, not his message. They got caught up in the excitement without fully realizing its meaning. They wanted a soldier-king who would lead a successful rebellion against Rome and the corrupt Temple leaders. They saw what they wanted to see, and when it turned out to be an ordinary-looking man riding a donkey, they didn’t get the point.

That helps explain why they abandoned him so quickly. Even his closest friends denied knowing him after he was arrested. The same crowds ― who hailed him as a son of David and cried to be saved ― reviled and condemned him when he was presented to them in chains, crowned with thorns. And they mocked him as he hung on the cross, dying from pain, dehydration, the effects of torture, and ultimately suffocation.

The peoples’ high instantly became a low. Their joy became disappointment, then anger: ”He got what he deserved.” “He never should have gotten our hopes up.” “He’s just another flash in the pan.”

That we can follow this momentous climb and crash, all in one Sunday morning, and still keep focused on what we will celebrate next Sunday, is a credit to our faith and our hope. Just when things looked darkest, the true meaning of all these events was revealed. When all seemed lost, for Jesus and for us, God intervened and changed the universe in one amazing moment.

So much passes before us in the pageantry and scripture readings on this Sunday of Palms and Passion. I pray that we will take home the kernel of truth in it all: Jesus went through this for a reason ― to stand before God and redeem his lost sheep, to take upon himself the sins of you and me, to die once in our place so that we don’t have to die forever.

To thee, before thy passion

They sang their hymns of praise;

To thee, now high-exalted,

Our melody we raise!