All

Posted on

Sermon: Proper 10 RCL A – “Soil”

As most of you are aware, Chocolate Mint Ice Cream is an abomination unto the Lord. For those who disagree, I’ve come across some really interesting statistics that prove this point and why it should be banned forthwith. Nearly all sick people have eaten Chocolate Mint Ice Cream at least once in their lives. An estimated 99.9% of people who die from cancer and heart disease have eaten Chocolate Mint Ice Cream. 99.9% of people involved in car crashes ate Chocolate Mint Ice Cream. 93.1% of juvenile delinquents come from homes where Chocolate Mint Ice Cream has been served. Among people born in 1839 who later ate Chocolate Mint Ice Cream, there has been a 100% mortality rate. Given the interpretation of these facts, I rest my case. 

One of my first jobs out of college was as a Statistical Analyst. I was terrible at math, but once someone gave me the right number, I could make it say and do whatever you would like. The example above is not among my better works. One of the difficulties with Holy Scripture is that we can do the same thing with it. Depending on who you ask, you’ll get all sorts of interpretations of even a single verse. However, today Jesus said, “Not so fast,” and, in a rare instance, told us what he meant.

The soil represents the heart. The birds snatching the seed away represent the devil, who snatches the Good News from the heart of one who hears it before they have the opportunity to grow and flourish. The seed that fell on rocky ground represents one who hears the word of God and believes at first, but has no depth and therefore withers and dies, producing no fruit. The seed that fell among the thorns is like one who hears the word of God, but everything going on around them is so overwhelming that they are choked off. Finally, there is the seed that fell on good ground. It grows. It flourishes. It produces. The Word of God grows within the good soil, within the heart of the believer.

If we are ones in whom the seed has been planted in good soil, then we may wonder what this parable has to do with us. It seems to be only about those who have not yet come to faith. But we know that scripture is multivalent, that is, it has many levels, so not only does this parable speak to those who have not yet come to faith, but it also speaks to the believer. Why? Because at this moment, your heart may be good and producing good fruit, but what about when you leave here? The heart is as temperamental and erratic as the Queen, my crazy cat.

Example: You leave here today and, in your heart, feel the presence of God. You feel at peace, and my goodness, what an amazing sermon that was! It’s all good! Then you head home. When you get home, you discover that the water line on the washing machine has decided to blow out, and when you open the front door, you find everything in the house floating in about four inches of water. In that instant, that bird, the enemy of God’s people, snatches the good fruit, the good work that has happened, right out of your heart.

Or, come Monday morning, having just finished your prayer, you know in your heart that God really heard you. Soon afterward, the dog starts barking, and, given the time of day, you know it’s the mail lady. You go out and greet her with a smile; she hands you a few letters, returning the smile, and says, “Oh. I wonder what the bank wants?” You open it, and stamped in bold red ink across the mortgage payment are the words “Insufficient Funds.” It’s only the 11th of the month. What am I going to do? The worries of the world, like that thorn bush growing in the field, just choked the joy of God right out of your soul. 

The soil of the heart is temperamental and erratic; however, it doesn’t always change as quickly as all that. At other times, it changes more slowly, like the seasons of the year.

I’m not sure if it is the case in Oklahoma, but in western Montana, if you do any digging, you will soon discover the ground is full of rocks. Anyone who cuts hay or gardens knows that one of the first chores in spring is to go out into those fields and “pick rocks.” If you are uninitiated, it may seem that someone has played a dirty trick on you by throwing rocks onto your land, but what has happened is that the rocks have worked their way to the surface. 

It is counterintuitive. The rocks should sink because they are heavier than dirt. Yet the soil settles downward, so the rocks rise to the surface. Those who like to garden know that you regularly have to clear the ground of the rocks that have worked their way up, or you’ll end up with a field full of rocks and busted equipment.

The soil of our hearts works in a similar way. The seed, that is, the Word of God, is planted. When it finds good soil, it will grow and produce good fruit. However, if you do nothing to tend the soil, over time the rocks will work their way to the surface, and the once-fertile soil becomes rocky. It has no depth and can no longer support life. The same is true of weeds and thorn bushes. If you don’t tend the soil regularly, weeds and thorns begin to encroach on the good soil and can eventually choke it off, leaving it unfit for growing anything.

St. Paul wrote, “To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.” St. Josemaria Escriva put it this way, “The world, the devil, and the flesh are a band of adventurers who take advantage of the weakness of that savage you have within you. In exchange for the poor bauble of pleasure [that is the world] which is worth nothing, they want you to hand over to them the pure gold and the pearls, the diamonds and the rubies, drenched in the living and redeeming blood of your God—the price and the treasure of your eternity.” 

The world, the devil, and the flesh want to destroy the good soil of your heart, whether when the seed is first planted or over time. The enemies of God seek to bring death to places where God has sown life. As Peter says, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8) So how do we defend ourselves? 

The answer begins and ends with God. We pray, “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” We are asking for God’s protection over our lives and, more importantly, over our hearts. God is faithful to His promises. The question is whether we will cooperate with His grace. Yes, there are random things, like broken water lines, that we can’t control and that work against us, but for the most part, we can handle them. It stinks, but call a plumber. The bigger problem is us. We tend to worry when we should pray. We tend to get angry when we should let something go. We tend to treat our relationship with God on an as-needed basis rather than seeking to maintain and strengthen it daily.

We defend ourselves against the world, the devil, and the flesh by asking the Lord our God to continue in that love and care. But as we do, we can’t be shooting ourselves in the foot and then ask God why it happened. We can’t say, “Oh, Lord! I’ve got this big hole in my foot. Yes, I pointed the gun and pulled the trigger, but Lord, why did you let that happen?” Free will is a beautiful thing, but it comes with responsibility and consequences. 

St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Philippians: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12b). Salvation is from God, unearned and freely given. And notice, Paul doesn’t say, “Work for your salvation…” He says, “Work out your salvation…” We are not working to earn God’s free gift. So Paul is saying, work out this gift, hold on to it, and nurture it with deep reverence and holy seriousness. God has done and will continue to do His part, but if you want to produce good fruit and not have it stolen, withered, or choked off, you must engage and be vigilant in tending the good soil of your heart.

Our Father has planted a seed in the good soil of your heart. Guard that soil. Tend it. Water it. Keep it clear of predators and of anything that does not belong. Then produce fruit worthy of God’s glory.

Let us pray: Lord, if what we seek be according to our will, then let it come to pass and let success attend the outcome. But if not, Dear Lord, let it not come to pass. Do not leave us to our own devices, for you know how unwise we can be. Keep us safe under your protection, Lord our God, and in your own gentle way, guide us and rule us as you know best. Amen.

Posted on

Oklahoma City Museum of Art: “Flaming June”

Exhibit: The Sense of Beauty: Six Centuries of Painting from Museo De Arte De Ponce. Flaming June is a painting I have loved since I first saw it… probably in my 20s. It made its way to the top of the things to do when I heard it would be showing in OKC. It was worth the wait!

Miguel Trelles
Puerto Rican, b. 1969
Philanthropist, 2000
Oil on canvas
Raised in an academic and literate environment, Miguel Trelles is an artist, curator, and cultural manager based in New York City’s Lower East Side, committed to increasing the visibility of the Latino community in the city’s visual and performing arts scenes. His artistic work is notable for blending elements of Chinese and Latin American cultures.
For this work, Trelles drew inspiration from figures such as American philanthropist Paul Mellon and Luis A. Ferré, founder of the Museo de Arte de Ponce, who was a key supporter of his artistic career from the beginning.
The subject of the painting appears seated on a sofa, while an early modern portrait hangs on the wall behind him. This painting within a painting serves as a nod to the philanthropist’s role as a collector, highlighting the connection between art and patronage.
William-Adolphe Bouguereau
French, 1825-1905
Far from Home, 1868
Oil on canvas
This canvas was among the first artworks acquired by Luis A. Ferré for the Museo de Arte de Ponce. It depicts two young sisters who survive by performing music and begging on the streets of Rome. William-Adolphe Bouguereau’s idealized figures, set against a classical-inspired architectural background, illustrate the theme of poverty without the harsh realism that can be unsettling. A polished finish, muted color palette, and classical poses define his work. Although Bouguereau stayed a dedicated supporter of the academic style throughout his career, this painting reveals an interest in the new themes that emerged during the second half of the nineteenth century, when increased social awareness led to the portrayal of scenes from daily life.
Lucas Cranach the Elder German, 1472-1553
Judith with the Head of Holofernes, ca. 1527-1537
Oil on panel
Lucas Cranach the Elder served as a court painter for the prince-electors of Saxony, who were based in Wittenberg. At the court, he befriended Martin Luther and supported his criticism of the Catholic Church.
In this powerful portrayal of Judith, the heroine of the Old Testament, Cranach depicts her as victorious after beheading Holofernes, the Assyrian general who was besieging her city. Juxtaposing serene beauty with gruesome triumph, she is elegantly dressed in a red velvet contemporary gown trimmed with brocaded fabric and a pearl-embroidered trunk. She holds the enemy’s head with her slashed gloves, which reveal her lavish rings. Her gentle face, with the delicate features typical of the artist, is framed by the golden halo of her hair and jewel-encrusted necklaces. Judith’s story has been interpreted as an allegory of the struggle between good and evil, and, therefore, Cranach may have envisioned this composition as a symbol of the battle between the Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Church.
Doménikos Theotokópoulos, “El Greco” l
Greek, 1541-1614
Saint Francis of Assisi in Meditation with Brother Leo, ca. 1600-
1605
Oil on canvas
Representations of Saint Francis of Assisi, especially those depicting his ascetic and contemplative life, exemplified the Christian life that the faithful were expected to follow according to the principles of the Counter-Reformation, initiated by the Council of Trent (1545-1563) to strengthen
Catholic influence in response to the Protestant Reformation. Art played a crucial role in this effort, aiming to inspire faith and devotion through the visual expression of spiritual intensity.
Building on the popularity of devotional art, El Greco created numerous depictions of the saint, with more than 30 versions of the composition showing
Saint Francis alongside Brother Leon, his secretary and confessor. To meet the growing demand for devotional paintings, El Greco relied on the help of his assistants. Contemporary sources describe the small samples he would show clients, from which they could choose their preferred composition, with the value based on the artist’s involvement. The painting’s dramatic lighting and elongated forms are characteristic of El Greco’s style.
Pedro Machuca
Spanish, ca. 1490-1550
The Descent of the Holy Ghost, ca. 1520-1530
Oil on panel
On the Christian feast of Pentecost, the Virgin Mary and the twelve apostles gathered in Jerusalem. During this gathering, they witnessed a miracle: the Holy Ghost, depicted as a dove surrounded by a large halo, descended into the room and empowered everyone to speak different languages, enabling them to preach the Gospel in foreign lands.
The Spanish painter Pedro Machuca worked in Rome, most likely in Raphael’s renowned workshop, before returning to Spain in 1520. It is believed that he created this intensely emotional piece after returning to the Iberian Peninsula.
Machuca brought with him artistic innovations that were popular in Italy at the time. The painting demonstrates the use of perspective and naturalistic figures, similar to the works of the great masters of the Italian Renaissance.
Its horizontal format suggests that it was originally used as a predella for an altarpiece that would have been placed above it. This panel was one of sixteen Italian and Spanish paintings donated to the Museo de Arte de Ponce by the Samuel H. Kress Foundation in 1962.
Tim Cherry – Salmons A’Foot
Tim Cherry – Dreams of Salmon
Andrew Peters
Sandhill Cranes on the Great
Migration
Oil, gold, wood, metal | 60 × 60 × 12 in.
Scott Burdick
Transcending Time
Paul Moore
Moon Over the Pueblo
Oil on canvas | 20 x 20 in.
Frederic Leighton
English, 1830-1896
Flaming June, ca. 1895
Oil on canvas
Flaming June, an iconic work in art history, has been widely reproduced, cementing its place in our cultural consciousness. Its reproductive value was highlighted in one of its earliest reviews, a trait appreciated by its first owner, the publisher of an illustrated newspaper, who admired and promoted it by distributing free reproductions to his subscribers as a Christmas gift. The contemporary audience undoubtedly revered its creator, Frederic Leighton, who was then president of the Royal Academy of Arts in London. The work was one of six paintings Leighton displayed at the Academy’s summer exhibition in 1895, just months before he died in January 1896.
Flaming June results from an extensive creative process where the artist experimented with multiple sketches to capture the complex posture of a woman reclining before a Mediterranean seascape. The painting echoes some of the artist’s earlier works and draws inspiration from historical masterpieces, including classical Greek sculptures and Renaissance artworks, especially those by Michelangelo. The interplay of line, color, and light offers a unique interpretation of Mediterranean antiquity, captured in the slumber of a sensual female form.
Luis A. Ferré’s acquisition of the painting in 1963 for the Museo de Arte de Ponce, during a time when Victorian art was undervalued-this piece had been out of the public eye for more than three decades-reflects the philosophy of Ferré and his advisors, who aimed to acquire
“pictures of quality, irrespective of their ‘fashion’ in the market,” thus contributing to the formation of the museum’s exceptional collection.
I went with Christy and Len

Posted on

Sermon: Benedict

Frari (Venice) – Sacristy – triptych by Giovanni Bellini – Saint Benedict of Nursia and Saint Mark

In our reading to the Philippians, Paul said, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” So, if I were to ask you, how would you say you are working out your salvation?

Some may have a good plan, while others take the Hail Mary approach.  Not the Hail Mary prayer, but the Hail Mary play in football, when you are at the end of the game and behind, so you make one last play and hope you come down with a score.  I suspect most fall somewhere in between, but Benedict of Nursia worked out his salvation with a particular Rule.  You know it as the Rule of St. Benedict, written around the year 530 A.D.  

The Rule has five significant dimensions: silence, prayer, humility, manual labor, and obedience.  These can all be studied in depth, but since our time is limited, I would like to focus on humility.  In chapter seven of the Rule, Benedict outlines twelve degrees of true humility. He presents them as a ladder, referencing the ladder Jacob saw in a dream, on which the angels of heaven ascended and descended.  Each degree, each rung of the ladder, brings you closer to heaven.  He begins:

“The first degree of humility, then, is that a person keep the fear of God before his eyes and beware of ever forgetting it. Let him be ever mindful of all that God has commanded; let his thoughts constantly recur to the hell-fire which will burn for their sins those who despise God, and to the life everlasting which is prepared for those who fear him.”

The following eleven degrees read similarly.  Briefly, they are:

  • Doing the will of the Father over our own.
  • Complete obedience in submitting to superiors.
  • Remain patient, even in the face of injustice.
  • Confession of every sin and every evil thought to the Abbott of the monastery.
  • Be content under even the worst of circumstances.
  • Consider yourself to be the lowest of all.
  • Follow the Rule.
  • Keep silent unless questioned by a superior.
  • Do not be quick to laugh.
  • When you speak, do so quietly with as few words as necessary.
  • To be humble not only in heart but in appearance.

Having climbed this ladder and passed through these levels, Benedict states that the monk will no longer fear Hell but will instead experience total love for Christ.

Returning to your own rule of life, have you begun to climb such a ladder?  Perhaps not as prescribed by Benedict, but have you set before yourself an intentional path that will help you develop a deeper relationship with God and lead you into greater holiness, so that you may grow in His image?  If yes, good.  Keep it up.  If not, I can commend the Rule of St. Benedict, even if you only generally seek to incorporate those five significant dimensions – silence, prayer, humility, manual labor, and obedience – into your daily life. 

In Book 1, Chapter 19 of The Imitation of Christ, Thomas à Kempis writes, “Not everyone can have the same devotion. One exactly suits this person, another that. Likewise, different exercises are suitable for different times, some for feast days and others again for weekdays. In times of temptation, we need certain devotions. For days of rest and peace, we need others. Some are suitable when we are sad, others when we are joyful in the Lord.”

The Rule of St. Benedict may not be for you, but it points to our need for an intentional, daily encounter with God so that we may work out our salvation.  Therefore, I encourage you to develop one for your own life so that you may grow in the Lord’s wisdom, knowledge, and love.

Posted on

New Book Announcement: BIRDY

For the past several months, I’ve been spending my mornings and late nights in the summer of 1976.

I’ve walked railroad tracks with an eleven-year-old boy named Birdy, met people I won’t soon forget, and discovered that some stories don’t simply get written—they slowly reveal themselves.

There are still edits ahead, but if all goes according to plan, BIRDY will be released this December.

I won’t say much about it just yet.

Only this…

It’s a story about childhood.
About friendship.
About the things we carry.
About the people who teach us to be brave.
And about discovering that sometimes the hardest journey isn’t finding somewhere else… it’s finding your way home.

I hope, before long, you’ll get to meet Birdy.

I have a feeling you’ll remember him for a very long time.

—John F. Toles

Posted on

Podcast Episode: Sermon: Proper 9 RCL A – “In God We Trust”

Pip: If you've ever wondered what pesto, the Cold War, and the Book of Isaiah have in common, Fr. John has done the research, and the answer is more coherent than it has any right to be.

Mara: This episode follows a single sermon that moves from the origins of a national motto to the harder question underneath it — the difference between believing in God and actually trusting God. Let's start with that journey from Virgil's kitchen to the gates of Jerusalem.

Sermon: Trusting God or Just Saying So

Pip: The sermon opens with a question about national identity, but it's really asking something more uncomfortable — whether "In God We Trust" is a conviction or just text printed on currency.

Mara: The setup begins in an unexpected place. Virgil, writing a pesto recipe around 50 BC, produced the phrase that became America's first de facto motto. As the sermon puts it: "out of many, a single color — color est e pluribus unus — and if we shorten that and add proper grammar, we have the phrase e pluribus unum, which the founding fathers added to the Great Seal of the United States in 1782."

Pip: So the founding motto was essentially a salad metaphor. And it held for over 170 years until the Cold War made atheism the enemy and "In God We Trust" became the official counter-move in 1956.

Mara: That shift sets up the sermon's real question. The motto changed, but the sermon asks whether the trust behind it changed with it. And the answer comes through Hezekiah, king of Judah around 700 BC.

Pip: Hezekiah is a useful case study because he's not a villain. He kept the religious observances, ran the temple, did the visible things — and yet Isaiah records God saying, essentially, I've had enough of your burnt offerings.

Mara: The problem was that Hezekiah believed in God but didn't trust him. When Assyria threatened, he sought an alliance with Egypt instead. The sermon quotes Isaiah directly: "Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help and rely on horses, who trust in chariots because they are many — but do not look to the Holy One of Israel or consult the Lord."

Pip: It took the Assyrian army standing outside Jerusalem's gates before Hezekiah actually prayed. Which is a very human timeline for getting serious about trust.

Mara: And the sermon draws that line straight to the gospel. Jesus's invitation to "take my yoke" gets read not as shared labor with a partner, but as a replacement — setting down the yoke of sin, self, and fear, and picking up the yoke of discipleship instead.

Pip: The question the sermon lands on is precise: not "do you believe?" — the congregation already answered that by showing up — but "do you trust him enough to remove all those yokes and put on his?"

Mara: It closes with Thomas Merton's prayer, which holds the tension honestly: "I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me." Trust, the sermon argues, doesn't require certainty. It requires the desire to follow, and Merton's prayer suggests that desire itself is already a form of faithfulness.

Pip: In God We Trust — lip service or a way of life. That's the question left sitting in the pew.

Mara: The thread running through all of this is the gap between profession and practice — saying the words and living the weight of them.

Pip: Belief is the easy part, apparently. Trust is where it gets costly. We'll see what Candle in a Cave brings next time.

Posted on

Sermon: Proper 9 RCL A – “In God We Trust”

Of all the places to begin a sermon, a cooking recipe seems like a far reach…but things happen. The recipe I have in mind was written about 50 years or so before the birth of Jesus. The author? The Roman poet Virgil. What is the recipe for? Pesto.

Virgil was writing down a recipe for pesto, but I suppose, being a poet and all, he couldn’t just say, “Add four cloves of garlic, so many leaves of basil, and half a cup of olive oil.” No, that would not do. And he certainly wouldn’t say, “Mash it all together until you have a green paste.” Instead, Virgil wrote, “They one by one do lose/Their proper powers, and out of many comes/A single colour, not entirely green…”

In Latin, “out of many, a single color” is color est e pluribus unus. If we shorten that and add proper grammar, we have the phrase e pluribus unum, which the founding fathers added to the Great Seal of the United States in 1782. Therefore, the de facto national motto of the United States of America did not speak of how great and mighty a nation we were. Instead, it essentially declared that we, as the United States of America, are a salad—a bunch of ingredients, tossed together and pounded into something new and tasty.

It was the unofficial official motto and remained in place until 1956, when it officially changed. You can blame that change on the Soviet Union and the Cold War.

In the USSR, if there was a state religion, it was atheism, and the leaders of our nation looked for many ways to distinguish the USA from them. One of those ways was changing the de facto motto from e pluribus unum to In God We Trust. Unlike the battle cry of the Crusaders, “Deus vult” (God wills it), “In God We Trust” was meant to be a humble recognition of our reliance on a loving God. It is the kind of reliance and trust that the Psalmist speaks of.

Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
They collapse and fall,
but we rise and stand upright. (Psalm 20:7-8)

So, my question to you on this day, when our nation is 250 years old and one day is this: We declare In God We Trust, but do we really, corporately and individually, or is it just like when we slap our money down on the counter and say, In God We Trust, and here’s 100 bucks in case that doesn’t work out?

Understand, the question is not about belief or faith. I’m not asking whether you believe in God or have faith in God. I’m asking whether you trust God. Isaiah shows the problem clearly.

Hezekiah was king of Judah around 700 BC. He is considered one of the better kings; however, there were several major problems, none of which was their belief in God. The first chapter of Isaiah clearly shows that they were still practicing their religion. Yet God is tired of it because they outwardly serve him while inwardly they are corrupt.

What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?
says the Lord;
I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams
and the fat of well-fed beasts;
I do not delight in the blood of bulls,
or of lambs, or of goats.
When you come to appear before me,
who has required of you
this trampling of my courts? (Isaiah 1:11-12)

That is the first problem. They do everything they are supposed to do, but in short, they are not practicing what they preach.

The second major problem is that they do not trust God. They believe in God, but they do not trust him.

At the time, the Assyrians were the dominant power, and to keep on good terms with them and avoid complete conquest, the nations paid tribute. However, when there was a shift in power in Assyria, Hezekiah and his royal court sought to free themselves from Assyrian rule and attempted to form an alliance with Egypt. The Lord says through Isaiah, “Don’t be stupid.”

Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help
and rely on horses,
who trust in chariots because they are many
and in horsemen because they are very strong,
but do not look to the Holy One of Israel
or consult the Lord!
The Egyptians are man, and not God,
and their horses are flesh, and not spirit. (Isaiah 31:1, 3a)

Yet it wasn’t until the Assyrian army had conquered all of Judah and stood outside the gates of Jerusalem that Hezekiah repented and truly trusted in God. He prayed, “O Lord our God, save us from his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you alone are the Lord.” (Isaiah 37:20)

Hezekiah believed in the Lord, and Hezekiah trusted in the Lord, and the Lord, for his part, sent one of his angels: “The angel of the Lord went out and struck down 185,000 in the camp of the Assyrians. And when people arose early in the morning, behold, these were all dead bodies.” (Isaiah 37:36)

At the end of our gospel reading today, Jesus says, “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.”

Many understand this yoke to be the type designed for two animals that would pull as a team. From this, we can picture ourselves yoked to Jesus, and with Him, we can complete the work. It is a good message, and I have preached it myself. However, this is more of a contemporary understanding of the passage. Not wrong, but perhaps there is a better understanding.

Consider what Jesus said just a short time before: “Whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 10:38) These are actions required of the individual. This is what it means to be his disciple: do what the master did. Therefore, to take Jesus’ yoke upon us is another way of saying this. We all wear a yoke of some kind—the yoke of sin, self, and fear. Jesus is saying to set those aside and take up His yoke of righteousness, forgiveness, and eternal life. Take up His yoke of discipleship. In our attempt to do as He asks, we face the same question Hezekiah and the Israelites faced: Do you trust God?

Do you trust God enough to set aside sin, to set aside the things of the world, to set aside self, your will, and your ego? I know you believe in Jesus. I don’t think you would be here if you didn’t, but do you trust him enough to remove all those yokes and put on his?

In God we trust. That can either be lip service or a way of life. Take on the yoke of Jesus and walk with God. The author of Proverbs writes,

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
Be not wise in your own eyes;
fear the Lord, and turn away from evil.
It will be healing to your flesh
and refreshment to your bones. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

Trust in the Lord, and you will find healing and refreshment; you will find rest for your soul, for His burden is light.

Let us pray (a deeply honest prayer from Thomas Merton):
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though
I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Amen.

Posted on

Sermon: Peter and Paul

“Saints Peter and Paul in a vestibule,” etching by Rombout Eynhoudts after Peter Paul Rubens, circa 1630-80 (Metropolitan Museum of Art)

After his resurrection, Jesus appeared to his disciples on several occasions. Toward the end of Luke’s Gospel, we hear of the disciples on the road to Emmaus:

That same day, two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them, but they were kept from recognizing him. He asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”

Later, in the Acts of the Apostles, we read that Jesus appeared to Paul as he was on the road to Damascus:

“Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

“Who are you, Lord?” Saul asked.

“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,” he replied. “Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.”

The men traveling with Saul stood there speechless; they heard the sound but did not see anyone. Saul got up from the ground, but he could see nothing when he opened his eyes.

The Gospels record several instances when Jesus appeared to Peter. Today we read of his restoration. There is also a legend of Jesus appearing to Peter many years later.

Peter eventually made his way to Rome, and after a time, one of the persecutions of the Christian church began. The legend picks up:

His friends, so runs the story, had entreated the Apostle to save his life by leaving the city. Peter finally consented, but on the condition that he should go away alone. But when he wished to pass the city gate, he saw Christ meeting him. Falling down in adoration, he said to Him, ‘Lord, whither goest Thou?’ And Christ replied, ‘I am coming to Rome to be again crucified.’ And Peter said to Him, ‘Lord, wilt Thou again be crucified?’ And the Lord said to him, ‘Even so, I will again be crucified.’ Peter said to Him, ‘Lord, I will return and will follow Thee.’ And with these words, the Lord ascended into Heaven.

The encounter on the road out of Rome gave Peter the courage to return to Rome and face his death, which Jesus also spoke of in our Gospel: “When you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” You will stretch out your hands—you will be crucified.

Today, I have a question for you. Three different encounters and three different roads. Jesus asked, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?” Jesus asked, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Jesus said, “I am coming to Rome to be again crucified.”

Now imagine, if you will: you are walking down an old dirt road in Oklahoma. It is pleasantly warm, the sun is beginning to set, and you are at peace, simply enjoying your time, when you encounter Jesus. You say a little prayer: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

What does Jesus ask you? What does he say?

Posted on

Podcast Episode: Sermon: Proper 8 RCL A – “Empowered Servants of God”

Pip: There's a Peanuts cartoon that opens a sermon, and somehow it leads directly to eternal life — which is either a bold homiletical move or proof that Lucy van Pelt has always been theologically underrated.

Mara: This episode covers one sermon from Fr. John, working through what it means to be part of a body where every gift counts — not just the ones delivered from a pulpit.

Pip: Let's start with the sermon itself, and the question of who actually does the work of the church.

Empowered for the Mission — Every Gift Counts

Mara: The sermon is built around a deceptively simple question: if not everyone is called to preach or heal or cast out demons, what exactly is everyone else doing in the mission of God?

Pip: The answer comes from the tail end of Matthew 10, Jesus wrapping up his instructions to the twelve before sending them out. The setup is that hardship is guaranteed — and so is help from unexpected quarters.

Mara: The sermon lands the key line directly from that passage: "Whoever receives you, receives me, and whoever receives me, receives the Father." The argument is that welcoming and supporting those who carry the mission makes you a participant in it.

Pip: Which is a genuinely generous theological claim — you don't have to be the one casting out demons to get credit for the demon-casting.

Mara: Two Old Testament figures anchor that claim. Elijah and the widow of Zarephath: she shares her last flour and oil, and the jar never empties. Later, her son dies and Elijah raises him. Elisha and the Shunammite woman: she feeds him whenever he passes through, and Elisha promises her a son she had stopped hoping for.

Pip: Both women receive what the sermon calls the prophet's reward — not because they prophesied, but because they made the prophet's work possible.

Mara: Paul's letter to the Corinthians supplies the structural argument: "There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good."

Mara: The upshot is that no single gift runs the whole operation. The apostles need the widow's flour. The prophet needs the Shunammite's hospitality. The body needs every member.

Pip: And the sermon loops back to Lucy at this point — those five fingers, individually nothing, curled together into something formidable. It is, against all odds, the correct analogy.

Mara: Archbishop Michael Ramsey gets the closing description of what that body looks like across centuries: "Human lives united to Jesus, receiving his presence, and showing his goodness, his love, his sacrifice, his humility and his compassion. Living stones."

Pip: The sermon closes by naming the stakes beyond the prophet's reward — Christ's reward, forgiveness and resurrection, the food that does not perish. The call is direct: find where your gift fits, and get to work.

Mara: The harvest line from Luke lands as the final push: "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few." Every laborer counts, regardless of what kind of laboring they do.

Pip: One sermon, but the argument keeps widening — from twelve apostles to a widow's jar to every person sitting in a pew wondering if they have anything to offer.

Mara: The answer the sermon gives is yes, unambiguously. The body needs what you have. More on that territory next time.

Posted on

Sermon: Proper 8 RCL A – “Empowered Servants of God”

In a Peanuts cartoon, Lucy demands that Linus change the TV channel and then threatens him with her fist if he doesn’t. “What makes you think you can walk right in here and take over?” asks Linus. “These five fingers,” says Lucy. “Individually, they are nothing, but when I curl them together like this into a single unit, they form a weapon that is terrible to behold.” “What channel do you want?” asks Linus. Turning away, he looks at his fingers and says, “Why can’t you guys get organized like that?”

My initial reaction to today’s Gospel reading was to shake my head at the liturgical committee that chose it. There is no time, context, audience, or anything provided in the reading to help us understand. So let’s begin by setting the scene, which is a little easier if you were here last week, because this week’s reading is part of that same conversation.

The audience Jesus is speaking to is the twelve apostles, and he is giving them instructions because He is about to send them out.

At the beginning of the chapter, Matthew 10, where our reading is located, we are told, “Jesus called to him his twelve apostles and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and every affliction” (Matthew 10:1). Jesus gives them instruction on their travels and what to expect: “Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16), and also tells them to “have no fear” (Matthew 10:26) for they are of great worth to their Father in heaven.

Then comes our lesson from last week. Jesus tells them that the message they carry will not bring peace but division, saying, “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Matthew 10:34b).

Today’s Gospel is the conclusion of the apostles’ marching orders, and it can be seen as encouragement, because Jesus tells them that as they go and experience the hardships along the way, there will be people who never preach a sermon, never cast out a demon, never heal the sick, yet by welcoming, encouraging, and supporting Christ’s servants they become participants in the very mission of God. “Whoever receives you, receives me, and whoever receives me, receives the Father.” Good. In other words, when someone receives you as my disciple, it will be like in times past when someone received and helped a prophet carry out their work. Elijah and Elisha provide two very good examples of this.

During the reign of King Ahab, he did evil in the eyes of the Lord, so the Lord brought a drought upon the land, as Elijah had proclaimed. Afterward, the Lord sent Elijah to Zarephath. There, Elijah encountered a widow and asked her for a little something to eat and a drink of water. She responded that she had only a little flour in a jar, enough to make one small cake for her and her son to eat, after which they would die because of their poverty and the drought. Yet Elijah said, “Do not fear… The jar of flour shall not be spent, and the jug of oil shall not be empty, until the day that the Lord sends rain upon the earth” (1 Kings 17:14), and it was done according to the word of Elijah. While the world around her suffered from the drought and went hungry, the widow and her son received the prophet’s reward and had plenty.

Later, the widow’s son died because of illness, yet because of her support and kindness to Elijah, the Lord raised the child from the dead through Elijah’s prayer.

Then there was Elisha, who frequently passed through the town of Shunem. A wealthy woman lived there, and each time Elisha passed through, she would feed and care for him. Elisha asked what could be done to repay her kindness. She would not say, but Gehazi, Elisha’s servant, told him that the woman was childless, even though she and her husband desired one. Hearing this, Elisha promised her the reward of a prophet: “At this season, about this time next year, you shall embrace a son.” (2 Kings 4:16) She was too afraid to believe it, but the following year she had a son.

When Jesus speaks to the disciples about the prophets’ reward and the righteous person’s reward, he says, “You will encounter hardships in following me and doing the Father’s will, but there will be those who help you. Because of their help, they too will receive a reward.”

Why? Not everyone can be called to be a prophet or a apostle, but all can assist the prophet or apostle in other ways.

Saint Paul tells us, “Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” (1 Corinthians 12:4-7) And remember how, a little later, he asked a series of questions, “Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles?” (1 Corinthians 12:29), and so on. The answer is no. Not all are this or that, but each one has been empowered with gifts “for the common good.” That’s exactly the point Lucy was making, “These five fingers… Individually, they are nothing, but when I curl them together like this into a single unit…” This same principle applies to Elijah and Elisha, the apostles, and on down through history to us gathered here today. Is this true?

Do you know how many people I’ve asked from this congregation to come up here and preach? Do you know how many times, when I ask that question, the person looks at me as though I didn’t have the sense God gave a turnip? Yet that same person may have taken on another ministry in the church or an act of hospitality. Something I had no clue how to do.

Paul again says, “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.” (1 Corinthians 12:12-13) He is, of course, speaking of the church. When Jesus spoke of those who would receive a prophet’s reward or a righteous person’s reward, he was also speaking of the church, all of its members. This reward from God is not limited to the front person, the one in the dog collar and fancy robes. The reward is for the entire body of Christ, with each member exercising the gifts they have been empowered with.

A few weeks back, we spoke of our baptism and our entrance into the body of Christ. We then spoke of what it means to be loyal to God, not simply a passive relationship but one that is active in thought, word, and deed. Today, we understand that this active faith, as sons and daughters of God, is lived out in the Church, using the gifts we have been blessed with, both individually and corporately.

In The Canterbury Pilgrim, Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsey speaks of the church as a building, which he then describes as a symbol of the Church formed by those who become the Body of Christ. Of this Body, Archbishop Ramsey captures exactly what Paul said, “Through the centuries this other Church—the Body of Christ—has stood: human lives united to Jesus, receiving his presence, and showing his goodness, his love, his sacrifice, his humility and his compassion. Living stones – what a mingling of metaphors! It tells of firm, solid, unmovable loyalty, and of persons alive in joy, in freedom, in creativity, in influence. This is the Church that Jesus Christ founded, the Church of which he said that the gates of death would never prevail against it.” (Glory Descending, Eerdmans, p.129)

This is the Church and the great work that takes place within these walls and within the Body of Christ. However, for our participation in it, there’s not just the prophet’s reward or the righteous person’s reward. Jesus says, “This is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.” (John 6:40) Therefore, Jesus says, “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you.” (John 6:27) For us, there is more than the prophet’s or righteous person’s reward, there is Christ’s reward, the food that does not perish—the forgiveness of sins and eternal life on the last day.

In your life with God and your life in the Church, use the gifts you have been empowered with and work for Christ’s reward. No gift is too small. No gift is unnecessary. And by combining them, we become the church God desires us to be. Ask yourself, where can I put my gifts to work in the Body of Christ, and then get busy. You are needed, for “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few,” (Luke 10:2), and we may not all be apostles or prophets, but we are all laborers in this great Kingdom of our God. 

Let us pray: Everliving God, whose will it is that all should come to you through your son Jesus Christ: Inspire our witness to him, that all may know the power of his forgiveness and the hope of his resurrection; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

Blog at WordPress.com.