Sermon: Maundy Thursday

It is told that Alexander the Great and a small company of soldiers approached a strongly fortified walled city. Alexander, standing outside the walls, raised his voice and demanded to see the king. when the king arrived, Alexander insisted that the king surrender the city and its inhabitants to Alexander and his little band of fighting men. The king laughed, “Why should I surrender to you? You can’t do us any harm!” But Alexander offered to give the king a demonstration. He ordered his men to line up single file and start marching. He marched them straight toward a sheer cliff. The townspeople gathered on the wall and watched in shocked silence as, one by one, Alexander’s soldiers marched without hesitation right off the cliff to their deaths! After ten soldiers died, Alexander ordered the rest of the men to return to his side. The townspeople and the king immediately surrendered to Alexander the Great. They realized that if a few men were actually willing to commit suicide at the command of this dynamic leader, then nothing could stop his eventual victory.

It is told that the abbot of a monastery took a dead stick and stuck it in the ground, then turning to a monk named John he told him to tend the stick as though it was alive. For the next year John tilled the soil around the stick, kept it weeded, and without exception brought water up twice a day and watered the dead stick.

There is a word that many of us are not so fond of because in most cases it means that we have a superior who commands us. That word is “obedience.” Although we may not like it, we will be obedient for a variety of reasons: fear, loyalty, ideals, and so on. There are various persons who can call us to obedience, but we know that God is most certainly at the head of the list.

Think of Jesus’ first miracle, the wedding at Cana. Jesus’ public ministry has not yet begun, but when the wedding party runs out of wine, Mary – Jesus mother – turns to him and says, “They have no more wine.” “Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.” And of course it was the finest of wines.

Yet when Mary said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you,” she was not just speaking to them. We know that she also speaks to us and we are given commands by Jesus that we must follow. Being obedient and following these commands is where Maundy Thursday gets its name. From the Old French we have the word mandé which is something commanded and from the Latin mandatum which also means commandment, and Mandatum is the first word of verse 34 that we read today, “Mandātum novum dō vōbīs… A new commandment I give unto you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.”

Jesus demonstrates to us how we are to be obedient to this command by serving one another, by loving one another, by taking the lowest position, the position of a slave and washing each other’s feet. As a Christian people, are you prepared to be obedient to this new commandment? If yes, then how far are you willing to go in being obedient? No, I’m not asking you to go jump off a cliff as Alexander’s men did, but like Jesus, would you be obedient? Watering a dead stick might seem silly to the world, but if Jesus asks you to look silly in order to be obedient, will you follow? Would you kneel in front of a stranger and wash their feet? These are the things Jesus calls us to be obedient to, but not out of fear or loyalty or some great idealism, but out of love. “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.”

Sermon: Wednesday in Holy Week

It was Vincent Setterholm who put together a flowchart on how to solve problems with your ox according to the Mosaic Law. This is the chart (http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2014/february-web-only/bible-ox-law-flow-chart.html). The chart begins by asking, “Was the ox harmed?” Then Mr. Setterholm takes us through several “Yes/No” scenarios according to the Law.

He does this for every Law concerning the ox, one of which includes the question, “Did the ox gore someone to death.” If “Yes,” then there are questions about whether or not the ox has gored someone before, did the owner know, was the owner warned, all the way down to whether or not the person gored to death was a citizen or a slave. If a citizen, then there will be punishment, up to the stoning of the owner of the ox; however, if the person gored to death was a slave, see Leviticus 21:32: If the ox gores a male or female slave, the owner shall pay to the slaveowner thirty pieces of silver, which isn’t very much money.

To prove that it’s not much, thirty pieces of silver comes up again in the Book of the Prophet Zechariah. At one point, as an example of his ministry, he compares himself to a shepherd, who after his service is only paid thirty pieces of silver. Zechariah reports, “The Lord said to me, ‘Throw it into the treasury—this lordly price at which I was valued by them.’” He was being sarcastic when he referred to it as a “lordly price.” Thirty pieces of silver for the work performed was such an insult that it wasn’t even worth keeping.

We are all familiar with the last time thirty pieces of silver is mentioned in Scripture – from Matthew’s Gospel: Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, “What will you give me if I betray Jesus to you?” They paid him thirty pieces of silver.

Today, Jesus said to Judas, “Do quickly what you are going to do,” and he did. For the price of a slave gored by a bull, for an amount deemed unworthy to keep even by a shepherd (one of the lowest of all positions), Judas betrayed Jesus and turned him over to the authorities.

Why would Judas do such a thing? Jesus did not give him what he wanted, what he thought he needed, what he thought he deserved, so he gave up God for a paltry earthly reward, which unfortunately seems to be a human trait. Adam and Eve gave up paradise for bite of fruit. Lot’s wife gave up her life for one more look back (turned into a pillar of salt). Esau gave up his birthright for a bowl of stew. David gave up his integrity for a pretty girl. All these little things. All these thirty pieces of silver.

When considering our “little” sins and small vices, we often don’t see them as harming anyone, but they are. We are harming ourselves.

St. Josemaría Escrivá said, “Have you ever stopped to consider the enormous sum that many ‘littles’ can come to?” That can be a positive, because by faithfully attending to the little things in our lives, we are doing the will of God, but it can also be a negative, because one little thing done wrong, can bring down every good work.

I’m not really concerned that any of you are planning to go out and commit some great and heinous sin, but we must all be vigilant in watching over ourselves to insure that we don’t stumble over thirty pieces of silver.

Sermon: Palm Sunday RCL C

As we read the various parts of the passion, we can see all the many sins of the people. It is a long list: pride, making false promises, selfishness, betrayal, fighting, lying, passing the buck, taunting, injustice, ridiculing, regretting. On and on. Each individual and group played their part and each individual and group committed their sin.

It is easy for us to point the finger at the apostles, the religious leaders, and the Romans and number their sins. It is simple to see how weak Peter was, how wretched Judas was, how petty the disciples could be. There is also no issue condemning the religious leaders – those Christ killers – or the Romans and their inhumanity. It is easy to look back on these individuals and groups and place blame for the events of that day. However, it is very difficult to look in a mirror and do the same.

A friend of mine once pointed out that the devil only has so many tricks. Unfortunately for us, we just keeping falling for the same ones time and time again. If we examine our lives, as we are called to do during the season of Lent, we will likely discover instances of pride, selfishness, betrayal, injustice, regret – all the same sins those individuals and groups committed in the events surrounding the death of Jesus.

If we examine our lives and are honest with ourselves, we know that David spoke for all of us when he wrote the words of Psalm 51:

I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.
Against you, you alone, have I sinned,
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you are justified in your sentence
and blameless when you pass judgment.
Indeed, I was born guilty,
a sinner when my mother conceived me.

We know our transgressions. They are ever before us. With them before, we also know that we will be judged according to our actions. Near the end of the Book of Revelation, John writes, “I saw a great white throne and the one who sat on it… And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Also another book was opened, the book of life. And the dead were judged according to their works, as recorded in the books…. all were judged according to what they had done…. and anyone whose name was not found written in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire.” It is only a fool who does not fear that day.

“Christ will come again” and we as his bride look with great joy and anticipation for the day of his return, yet, when it comes to standing in judgment before the throne of God… I’m not so sure. So, what will you say to God in your defense? How will you answer when God the Father says to you, “Explain yourself.”

Thomas à Kempis, in his work, On the Passion of Christ, provides us with what I think may be the perfect answer: “Most Holy Father, look upon the face of your Christ, hanging on the Cross for me, and in view of your only-begotten Son’s exceptional merits, his being pierced with nails and being covered with his own red blood, be merciful to me a sinner, bound and chained as I am to my many sins. He was wounded to wipe away my iniquities, and he will offer you satisfaction for all my sins and will answer to you in my stead. I offer him to you as a hostage; I choose him as my advocate; I assign him as my mediator; I designate him as defender of my cause. If acceptable to you, he, the blessed fruit of the Virgin’s womb, will make good all my omissions and rectify all my past commissions.”

Our sin will ever be before us, but on the day of judgment, with the Cross as His witness, our mediator, advocate, and the defender of our cause, Jesus the Christ, will stand in our place; and when God the Father says, “Explain yourself, “ Jesus will respond, “Forgiven,” and that long list of sins will be erased.

Ask Jesus to write your name in the book of life and to speak for you on the day of judgment. The means for Him to do so has already been accomplished, it is only your asking that is required.

Let us pray: Most loving Savior, may your last word from the Cross be also our final words in this life. When we are no longer able to utter another word, let this express our definitive desire: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit. O Lord, God of Truth, you have redeemed me. Amen.”

Sermon: Patrick

A rich man named Proculus had hundreds of slaves. The slave named Paulus was so trustworthy that Proculus made him the steward over his whole household. One day Proculus took Paulus with him to the slave market to buy some new workers. Before the bargaining began, they examined the men to see if they were strong and healthy.

Among the slaves stood a weak, old man. Paulus urged his owner to buy this slave.

Proculus answered, “But he is good for nothing.”

“Go ahead, buy him,” Paulus insisted. “He is cheap. And I promise that the work in your household will get done even better than before.”

So Proculus agreed and purchased the elderly slave. And Paulus made good on his word. The work went better than ever. But Proculus observed that Paulus now worked for two men. The old slave did no work at all, while Paulus tended to him, gave him the best food, and made him rest.

Proculus was curious, so he confronted Paulus, “Who is this slave? You know I value you. I don’t mind your protecting this old man. But tell me who he is. Is he your father who has fallen into slavery?”

Paulus answered, “It is someone to whom I owe more than to my father.”

“Your teacher, then?”

“No. Somebody to whom I owe even more.”

“Who then?”

“This is my enemy.”

“Your enemy!”

“Yes. He is the man who killed my father and sold us, the children, as slaves.” Proculus stood speechless. “As for me,” said Paulus, “I am a disciple of Christ, who has taught us to love our enemies and to reward evil with good.” (http://www.preachingtoday.com/illustrations/2003/january/14119.html)

Jesus said, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them.  If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same.  If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again.  But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return.”

There is a lot we think we know about St. Patrick, but there is actually very little, except for bits of his writings. From that we know that when he was in his mid-teens, hew was kidnapped and taken to Ireland as a slave and tended the sheep. Six years later he was able to escape and returned to his home. Later, he wrote that during the night he heard “the voices of those who dwelt beside the forest of Focult (in Ireland) which is near the western sea, and they cried, as if with one mouth: ‘Holy youth, we beseech you to come and walk among us once more.’” Patrick understood these words to be a call to go and preach the Gospel to the Irish – to those who had kidnapped him – to his enemies. He would live out the remainder of his days among those people and converted many to Christianity. When the Roman Catholic Church was able to reassert itself into that region of the world, they found a faithful Irish Church that they didn’t even know existed.

How could he bring himself to return to those who treated him so poorly? Why would he do such a thing? It would seem that his thoughts were the same as Paulus, “I am a disciple of Christ, who has taught us to love our enemies and to reward evil with good.”

How do you respond to your enemies, those who treated you poorly? You are a disciple of Christ. Love them. Reward evil with good.

Sermon: Chad of Lichfield

Henry Augustus Rowland, professor of physics at Johns Hopkins University, was once called as an expert witness at a trial. During cross-examination a lawyer demanded, “What are your qualifications as an expert witness in this case?”

The normally modest and retiring professor replied quietly, “I am the greatest living expert on the subject under discussion.” Later a friend well acquainted with Rowland’s disposition expressed surprise at the professor’s uncharacteristic answer. Rowland answered, “Well, what did you expect me to do? I was under oath.” I suppose, under oath, that even a truly humble person must speak the truth.

Chad of Lichfield was an abbot of a monastery who was elevated to the position of Bishop. However, years later, a new Archbishop of Canterbury questioned the legitimacy of the ordination when he discovered that the rite used for the ordination was not according to the Roman custom. Therefore, Chad offered to resign, saying, “Indeed, I never believed myself worthy of it.” Impressed with Chad’s humility, Canterbury reconsecrated him. It is with this same humility that Chad went about the business of caring for his diocese.

Andrew Murray, a South African pastor wrote, “The humble man feels no jealousy or envy. He can praise God when others are preferred and blessed before him. He can bear to hear others praised while he is forgotten because … he has received the spirit of Jesus, who pleased not Himself, and who sought not His own honor. Therefore, in putting on the Lord Jesus Christ he has put on the heart of compassion, kindness, meekness, long-suffering, and humility.”

In our Gospel reading Jesus teaches about humility, saying that when entering a room, we should take the lowest seat, not thinking too highly of ourselves, so that when the owner of the house comes, he will invite us to take a seat of greater honor. This is a true sign of humility, but it must also be done with right intent, for there is also false humility. That person takes the lowest seat, not out of true humility, but knowing full well that the owner of the house will make a big deal over them before others. Their actions were according to the teachings of Jesus, but their intent was consumed with pride.

Using Murray’s description of humility, Chad of Lichfield was one who “received the spirit of Jesus, who pleased not Himself, and who sought not His own honor.” Even as a Bishop, Chad took the lowest seat, recognizing his unworthiness outside of Christ. Perhaps a lesson we can all learn from.

In book three, chapter eight of The Imitation of Christ, Thomas à Kempis writes, “I will speak to my Lord, I who am but dust and ashes. … It is there You show me to myself — what I am, what I have been, and what I am coming to; for I am nothing and I did not know it. Left to myself, I am nothing but total weakness. But if You look upon me for an instant, I am at once made strong and filled with new joy. Great wonder it is that I, who of my own weight always sink to the depths, am so suddenly lifted up, and so graciously embraced by You.”

Like Chad, when we recognize that our only good comes from God, then we can walk in true humility, and by doing so, we will be lifted up, embraced by Jesus, and brought to a seat of honor at the heavenly banquet.

Sermon: Lent 3 RCL C – “Sin of the Fig Tree”

A kindergartner was practicing spelling with magnetic letters on the refrigerator: cat, dog, dad, and mom had proudly displayed for all to see. One morning while getting ready for the day, he bounded into the room with his arms outstretched. In his hands were three magnetic letters: G-O-D. “Look what I spelled, Mom!” with a proud smile on his face. “That’s wonderful!” his mom praised him. “Now go put them on the fridge so Dad can see when he gets home tonight.” The mom happily thought that her son’s religious education was certainly having an impact. Just then, a little voice called from the kitchen: “Mom? How do you spell ‘zilla’?”

No matter the age of a child, from infant to adult, I’m certain parents sometimes wonder if perhaps their child was swapped at birth. Just when you think they are finally getting it, they ask you how to spell “zilla.” Unfortunately, because God, the Father of us all, has probably looked at us in the same way, shaking his head and saying, “Oi! You were created in my image, so how did you get yourselves into this one!?”

In the time of the patriarch Abraham, God made a covenant with his people. It is found in Genesis 12:1-3, The Lord had said to Abram, “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you. I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.” Last week we read about God renewing this Covenant with Abram.

This is an eternal covenant that is still in effect today. However, as all children sometimes push their parents to the edge, the children of Abraham – his descendant throughout history – also pushed God to the edge.

Yet, because the covenant with God is eternal and because the children of Abraham survived throughout history – in good times and bad – they slowly began to wrongly think that they would be saved, not because of God, but because they were the children of Abraham. For their salvation, they relied on their inheritance – who they were – and not who God is.

Into this atmosphere strolled the prophets, the last being John the Baptist. Standing on the banks of the river, John cried out to the children of Abraham, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” He is saying to them, simply being related to Abraham is not enough. You must also produce good fruit. There must be some evidence of God in your life. A rose by any other name is still a rose, but if that rose smells like a pile of dung, then it’s not coming in my house.

Paul teaches us that we, as a Christian people, have been grafted in to the family of Abraham. He wrote to the Galatians, “If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.” Like the Israelites, we are children of Abraham, and our grafting in was made possible through the new covenant, the one made in Jesus’ blood. Remember: Jesus said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”

Through the shed blood of Christ a new covenant was made and we stand as the children of Abraham, but if we simply rely on that grafting in, that name – “Oh, I’m a Christian. I’m covered.” – but fail to produce good fruit, then we stand the chance of being condemned for the exact same reasons as the Israelites.

That is one of the points of the parable of the fig tree that we heard in our Gospel. Jesus said, “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’”

When fertile soil is at a premium, which it is in that part of the world, then what is planted is expected to produced. A newly planted fig tree takes three years to produce fruit, so in the third year when this tree produced none, the owner told the gardener to pull it out. It’s no good. The gardener asked for mercy, a bit more time, but the message is clear, “Produce or be replaced.” That was the message to the Israelites and it is one we should hear as well.

One of the desert fathers said: “If a man settles in a certain place and does not bring forth the fruit of that place, the place itself cast him out, as one who has not borne its fruit.” The implication being that not only does God desire that we produce good fruit, but so does the land. It too wants to fulfill its purpose in the Father’s plan.

As a Christian person, we have time to grow in the Lord. To gain knowledge and maturity in our faith, but after a time, it is expected that we will begin producing good fruit in ourselves and in others. This is not saying that we earn our salvation – not possible – but there should be some sign of God working in us.

What are those signs? Paul provides us with a pretty good list to start with: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Jesus’ list is a bit shorter, but perhaps more difficult. It includes loving God, loving your neighbor, and loving yourself.

The sin of the fig tree was that after it had reached an age of maturity, it failed to put forth that which it was created to produce. We can be found guilty of the same thing if we fail to produce evidence of God working in us. It’s OK to still need to know how to spell Godzilla, but work to achieve a maturity in your faith that is evident through the good fruit of your life that you were created to produce.

Let us pray: God, our Father, You redeemed us and made us Your children in Christ. Through Him You have saved us from death and given us Your Divine life of grace. By becoming more like Jesus on earth, may we come to share His glory in Heaven. Give us the peace of Your kingdom, which this world does not give. By Your loving care protect the good You have given us. Open our eyes to the wonders of Your Love that we may serve You with a willing heart and produce good fruit. Amen.

Sermon: Lent 2 RCL C – “Covenant”

“When society collapses, I shall rule as the Pudding King!”

Sitting around reading the fine print while you eat your frozen dinner can sometimes prove to be quite profitable.

In 1999, David Phillips was reading the fine print on his Healthy Choice frozen dinner when he came across a promotion. It seems that every ten barcodes you sent in from a Healthy Choice product would earn you 1,000 frequent flyer miles for a particular airline.

Not having much to do that morning, Mr. Phillips did a bit of math and discovered that 10 barcodes of Healthy Choice meals was far cheaper than a 1,000 miles. In particular, he discovered that 10 Healthy Choice puddings, compared to 1,000 miles was a steal, so he ran around town and bought every pudding he could lay his hands on – all 12,150 cups. To avoid suspicion, he told the store managers he was stocking up for Y2K (that now mythical end of the technological world). Hence, “When society collapses, I shall rule as the Pudding King!”

In exchange for the pudding – because, after all, who can eat 12,150 cups of pudding – he enlisted the help of the Salvation Army to help him peel off the barcode labels. They got the pudding and he got the miles, plus an $800 tax deduction for his donation.

In the end, it cost Mr. Phillips about $2,000 for 1.25 million frequent flyer miles. Depending on the carrier, that’s around 50 to 60 roundtrip tickets or about $40 a trip for reading the fine print.

Today we have one of those very curious readings from the Old Testament that makes you want to double-check that you didn’t pick up a Stephen King novel when you thought you were reading the Bible.

The Lord is making His covenant with Abram, telling Abram of the land and descendants He will give to him, but Abram asked the Lord how he was to know that this was really going to happen. The Lord said, “’Bring me a heifer three years old, a female goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.’ He brought him all these and cut them in two, laying each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two. And when birds of prey came down on the carcasses, Abram drove them away.” Later, after Abram had fallen into a deep sleep, “A smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, ‘To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates.’”

What has happened? For us, this may sound quite bizarre, but for Abram, it would have been familiar. The Lord has made a blood covenant with Abram.

At that time, when a treaty was agreed to, the two parties would slaughter the animals and lay one half on either side of a trench where – sorry if this gives you a queasy stomach – but in the trench the blood from the animals would collect, then the two parties would walk through the trench, the act clearly stating, “May this – this carnage and blood – happen to me if I break my treaty with you” (for you Harry Potter fans, think of Severus Snape’s Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy).

Abram saw the fire pot and flaming torch – the Lord – passing through the trench that he had made. Abram saw God sealing the covenant in blood. Through these actions, the Lord is saying to Abram, “I will spill my own blood before I break my covenant with you. You will forever be my people and I will forever be your God.” However, for a covenant to remain intact, both parties must keep their end of the deal, which makes God’s actions even more remarkable, for God is also saying, “I will also be responsible for you. I will pay the price if you fail to keep your end of our agreement. I will shed my blood if you fail.”

On the night before he was crucified, Jesus and his disciples gathered in the upper room in Jerusalem. Jesus washed their feet and they shared a meal. “Then Jesus took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’  And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.’”

By our sin it is impossible for us to keep the covenant with God; and Jesus said, “What is impossible for mortals is possible for God.” God fulfilled the covenant he made with Abram by the shedding of His Own Precious Blood.

In the world today, like the Pudding King, most are looking for the small print and loopholes. They look for ways to get a piece of the good deals and ways to finagle out of that bad ones. They will work the system to get what they want, and if they cant’ figure it out for themselves, they’ll hire a lawyer to work on their behalf.

Our God is not interested in loopholes or finagling, but he does have a “want,” a desire that He is willing to gain at any cost: He “desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” Because of His great love for us, through Jesus, God satisfied this desire and obtained for us our salvation by fulfilling the blood covenant He made with Abram.

Some 400 years after Abram, Moses said to the people, “Know therefore that the Lord your God is God, the faithful God who maintains covenant loyalty with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations.” He kept His covenant then and He keeps it today with us. He is our God and we are His people.

Let us pray: Almighty God, you have given your only Son to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also an example of godly life: Give us grace to receive thankfully the fruits of this redeeming work, and to follow daily in the blessed steps of his most holy life; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Sermon: Temptations vs. Sin

If I was to have a favorite televangelist it would be Jesse Duplantis. I think his theology is a bit off, but the stories he tells are brilliant.

On one occasion he told of a priest who received a phone call at 2:00 a.m. from a highly agitated parishioner. The problem was temptation. The priest pointed out the time and asked if they might be able to set a meeting for bit later in the day, but the parishioner was insistent. After a few more attempts, the priest agreed to meet the man down at his office. It was about 3:00 a.m. by the time they both arrived and the man immediately began complaining about all the temptation in his life.

“Father, it is always out there. I pass by a bar and I want to go in and have drink. I’m married, but every time I pass by a pretty girly I want to stop and ask her name. All those flashing neon lights at the casinos just make me crazy!” On and on he went.

So after over an hour of this, the priest asked, “So what is it you would like me to do for you?”

“Father, I want you to pray that all the temptation be removed from life.”

“That’s just not possible,” the priest responded.

The man insisted that it was and by the time he finished complaining, the priest was feeling far less than charitable.

Finally having enough of it, the priest said, “Ok. I’m going to lay my hands on you and pray that the Lord will take away all your temptations.”

“Thank you, Father,” the man blubbered.

The priest stood, placed his hands on the man’s head and began by invoking the Holy Spirit and the blessed angels to assist him and then prayed, “Lord, kill this man.”

The problem in our lives is sin, not temptation. As we read today, even Jesus was tempted, and as St. Bernard said, “He that tempted Christ will not be expected to spare men.” However, a mistake that we can make that may cause a certain spiritual anxiety is to equate those temptations to sin and to feel that we have failed simply because we were tempted. That is not the case. And, although we fight to overcome the temptations and pray that we should not be lead into evil, the temptations can serve the purpose of making us stronger, provided we fight against them.

A story from the Desert Fathers: Abbot John prayed to the Lord that all passion be taken from him. His prayer was granted. He became impassible [he didn’t experience the suffering of temptation]. In this condition he went to one of the elders and said: “You see before you a man who is completely at rest and has no more temptations.” The elder surprised him. Instead of praising him, the elder said: “Go and pray to the Lord to command some struggle to be stirred up in you, for the soul is matured only in battles.” Abbot John did this, and when the temptations started up again, he did not pray that the struggle be taken away from him. Instead he prayed: “Lord, give me strength to get through the fight.”

Remember St. Paul’s words to the Corinthians, “God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” Therefore, when you are tempted, don’t see yourself as defeated. The battle is only just beginning. So, pray that short prayer, “Lord, give me strength to get through the fight,” then stand and fight.

Sermon: Epiphany Last RCL C – “Transfigured”

During the 1948-49 war between the Arabs and Israelis the Arabs captured half of the city of Jerusalem. It wasn’t until the 1967 Six Day War that the Israelis were able to once again reunite the city. As I know you are all probably aware, trying to keep track of all the wars in this region of the world is almost an impossibility. At one time or another, I’m sure that everyone involved or watching has lost hope and wondered if these two peoples will ever accomplish peace. Yet, occasionally, there are glimmers of hope.

When the Old and New Cities of Jerusalem were reunited in 1967, a recently widowed Arab woman, who had been living in Old Jerusalem since 1948, wanted to see once more the house in which she formerly lived. Now that the city was one, she searched for and found her old home. She knocked on the door of the apartment, and a Jewish widow came to the door and greeted her. The Arab woman explained that she had lived there until 1948 and wanted to look around. She was invited in and offered coffee.

The Arab woman said, “When I lived here, I hid some valuables. If they are still here, I will share them with you half and half.”

The Jewish woman refused. “If they belonged to you and are still here, they are yours.” After much discussion back and forth, they entered the bathroom, loosened the floor planks, and found a hoard of gold coins. The Jewish woman said, “I shall ask the government to let you keep them.” She did and permission was granted.

The two widows visited each other again and again, and one day the Arab woman told her, “You know, in the 1948 fighting here, my husband and I were so frightened that we ran away to escape. We grabbed our belongings, took the children, and each fled separately. We had a three-month-old son. I thought my husband had taken him, and he thought I had. Imagine our grief when we were reunited in Old Jerusalem only to find that neither of us had taken the child,”

The Jewish woman turned pale, and asked the exact date. The Arab woman named the date and the hour, and the Jewish widow told her: “My husband was one of the Israeli troops that entered Jerusalem. He came into this house and found a baby on the floor. He asked if he could keep the house and the baby, too. Permission was granted.”

At that moment, a twenty-year-old Israeli soldier in uniform walked into the room, and the Jewish woman broke down in tears. “This is your son,” she cried.

This is one of those incredible tales of hope we hear. What followed? The two women liked each other so much that the Jewish widow asked the Arab mother: “Look, we are both widows living alone. Our children are grown up. This house has brought you luck. You have found your son, or our son. Why don’t we live together?” And so they did.

In the midst of bombed out buildings and flying bullets, these two women managed to accomplish what has eluded the region since day one. They found peace and this peace was a glimmer of hope. A revealing of a distant future.

In the Book of Exodus, we learn that when Moses came down off of Mt. Sinai, his face was radiant with the glory of Lord. So much so, that it frightened the people, so afterwards, Moses would go around with a veil over his face. Today, in our reading from Corinthians, St. Paul references that veil, but now it is a veil that hides the mind. For those that do not yet believe, it hides the mind from the glory that is revealed in the Son of God – in Jesus. And I believe, for those who believe, it can also hide the glory of Jesus that is in them. That is in you.

Paul says, “All of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another.” Yet for many, we stand before that mirror and there we see all of our imperfections, our sins, prejudices. We see all those ungodly parts of our souls. However, somewhere in that distorted view, is the very image of God!

On the day that Peter, James and John ascended Mt. Tabor with Jesus, I’m certain they felt the same way that we do. As they sat at a short distance watching Jesus pray, they asked themselves, “Who am I compared to this Jesus? He raises the dead, calms the storms, feeds the multitudes, heals the lame, but who am I?” The veil that hid their minds revealed only their imperfections.

Then suddenly, as the disciples sat watching Jesus, they were aware of a great brightness. They looked toward Jesus. Without thought they rose to their feet in silent reverence. Jesus was transfigured before them. His face shone with an unearthly brilliance. His garments were whiter than snow. Standing beside Him were Moses and Elijah, the representatives of the Law and Prophets who foretold His coming. The Apostles could hardly contain themselves, and then from above a bright cloud overshadowed them, like the cloud that signified God’s presence to the Israelites as they wandered in the desert for forty years. It was then, from the cloud, came the very voice of the Creator. God the Father said, ”This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”

Like the peace between the Arab and Jewish widows, this transfiguration of Jesus was a glimmer of hope, a revealing of a distant future. Jesus did not change from one physical form to another, instead he was making known his true self in all glory and majesty.

What did the that glimmer of hope look like for these apostles? What was this distant future? It was a time when they would stand before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. Never again would they hunger; never again would they thirst. It revealed a time when the sun would not beat upon them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb at the center of the throne would be their shepherd and would lead them to springs of living water. It revealed a time when God would wipe away every tear from their eyes.

The transfiguration pointed them toward that distant future and it was the voice of God that told them the way, “This Jesus is my Son. My chosen. Listen to him. Learn from him. Follow him, so that you too may be my son, my daughter, my child.”

Like the Apostles and everyone else who genuinely looks into St. Paul’s mirror with that veil that covers our minds, I don’t like what I see. In that dim image my sins appear like scars, crisscrossing one on top of the other. My clouded eyes are a sign of my poor choices. My weakened muscles are the result of spiritual apathy, and the excess weight is the effect of my lust for the things of this world and not the things of God. At times like this, the despair and self-loathing pummel me to the ground, but then… but then suddenly I become aware of a great brightness and I look toward Jesus. Almost without thought I rise to my feet in silent reverence. Jesus is transfigured before me. The veil is removed from my mind and Jesus’ face shines with an unearthly brilliance. His garments are whiter than snow. And that same glory shines from within me.

For us all, the glory of the Transfiguration burns through the veil and we are given a glimpse of that distant future where there are no longer those imperfections, the cloudiness, or scars. Instead, perhaps for only a moment, we see the road that leads to our salvation and we become aware of who we truly are in Christ.

This isn’t anything weird, but close your eyes for a moment and look into St. Paul’s mirror through that veil. What do you see? You don’t have to name it aloud, but in this moment, name it to yourself. What is there that you don’t like? That you are ashamed of? What is the ungodly that you see? Now, allow the light of the transfiguration, the true light of Christ that has come into the world shine upon you. With this light shining upon you, what you now see is your hope. Your future. It is your salvation and it is who you truly are in Christ Jesus.

Let us pray: Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created. And You shall renew the face of the earth.

O, God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever enjoy His consolations, through Christ Our Lord, Amen.