Today, I had the opportunity to take a small group to Oklahoma City to visit the Blessed Stanley Rother Shrine. Blessed Stanley is the first American Martyr in the Roman Catholic Church and an Oklahoman. Below is a history taken from the Archdiocese of Oklahoma City’s website. (Source) The pictures are ones I took.
Stanley Francis Rother was born March 27, 1935, in Okarche, Oklahoma. The oldest of the children born to Franz and Gertrude Rother, he grew up on a farm and attended Holy Trinity Catholic Church and School. He worked hard doing required chores, attended school, played sports, was an altar server and enjoyed the activities associated with growing up in a small town.
While in high school, he began to discern the possibility of a vocation to the priesthood. He was accepted as a seminarian and was sent to Assumption Seminary in San Antonio, Texas. He completed his studies at Mount Saint Mary’s Seminary in Emmitsburg, Maryland, and was ordained a priest on May 25, 1963. Father Rother served as an associate pastor for five years in Oklahoma.
He sought and received permission to join the staff at the Oklahoma diocese’s mission in Santiago Atitlan, Guatemala. He served the native tribe of the Tz’utujil, who are decedents of the Mayans. Although he struggled with Latin in the seminary, Father Rother learned Spanish and the Tz’utujil language in Guatemala. He celebrated Mass in their language and helped translate the New Testament.
Father Rother was surrounded by extreme poverty among the Tz’utujil, who were living in one-room huts growing what they could on their small plots of land. He ministered to his parishioners in their homes; eating with them, visiting the sick and aiding them with medical issues. He even put his farming skills to use by helping them in the fields, bringing in different crops, and building an irrigation system.
While he served in Guatemala, a civil war raged between the militarist government forces and the guerrillas. The Catholic Church was caught in the middle due to its insistence on catechizing and educating the people. During this conflict, thousands of Catholics were killed. Eventually, Father Rother’s name appeared on a death list. For his safety and that of his associate, Father Rother returned home to Oklahoma. He didn’t stay long, though, as he was determined to give his life completely to his people, stating that “the shepherd cannot run.” He returned to Santiago Atitlan to continue the work of the mission.
Within a few months, three men entered the rectory around 1 a.m. on July 28, 1981, fought with Father Rother and then executed him. His death shocked the Catholic world. No one was ever held responsible. The people of Santiago Atitlan mourned the loss of their leader and friend. They requested that Father Rother’s heart be kept in Guatemala where it remains enshrined today.
In 2007, his Cause for Canonization was opened. In June 2015, the Vatican in Rome voted to formally recognize Oklahoma’s Father Stanley Rother a martyr. The determination of martyrdom was a critical step in the Archdiocese of Oklahoma City’s Cause to have Father Rother beatified, the final stage before canonization as a saint.
On Dec. 1, 2016, Pope Francis officially recognized Father Rother as a martyr for the faith. He is the first martyr from the United States and the first U.S.-born priest to be beatified. The Rite of Beatification was held on Sept. 23, 2017, in downtown Oklahoma City – an event attended by more than 20,000 people from around the world.
Prayer for the Canonization of Blessed Stanley Rother
O God, fount of all holiness, make us each walk worthily in our vocation, through the intercession of your Saints, on whom you bestowed a great variety of graces on earth. Having graced your Church with the life of your priest and martyr, Blessed Stanley Rother, grant that by his intercession this humble flock may reach where the brave shepherd has gone. Grant that your Church may proclaim him a saint living in your presence and interceding for us. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
And God created Dog….
The floor tiles were made in Guatemala and dried outside. Throughout the building, you can see the tracks of the animals that passed by before the tiles were set.
A guy walks into a bar and orders a round of drinks for everyone. He announces, “I just made my last mortgage payment, and we’re celebrating!”
“Congratulations on paying off your mortgage,” another patron says.
The man shakes his head. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I still owe $422,378. But today’s payment was the last one I’m gonna make.”
Mortgage is a French word. It combines two Old French words, mort meaning “death,” and gage, meaning “pledge.” There’s your happy thought for today: signing a mortgage means signing a death pledge. It was named this as a mortgage only ends when the loan has been paid off or when you die. Congratulations on owning a home.
Concerning the mortgage, the author, Calvin Trillin, says, “Among married couples, the person who actually makes out the mortgage check is likely to be more cautious about spending money than the person who doesn’t. There is something sobering about sending away that much money every month in the knowledge that, rain or shine, you’ll have to come up with the same amount of money the next month and the month after that.”
You would think this sobering effect would give us pause. Still, it seems that as soon as someone’s financial position improves—a new job, raise, etc.—instead of remaining where they are and being able to breathe a bit more easily financially, they sell what they’ve got and go out and get themselves an even bigger mortgage, which is partially why the average mortgage in the year 2000 was $152,100 and, as of June this year, is $428,000. (Source)
I remember living in Wisconsin when I was in seminary. Originally, Nashotah House was out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by corn fields. That all changed with the suburban sprawl of Milwaukee. New neighborhoods were going in all around, and some of the houses were massive. The funny thing, people were living in them, but when you went by at night and could catch glimpses of the inside—there was no furniture! They had such large mortgage payments that they couldn’t afford to furnish them. What do I know? The upside: they could sell those houses today for three or four times the amount they paid for them.
Anyhow… the mortgage—the death pledge—only ends when it is paid off, or you die. If those death pledges were only on our homes, it would be one thing, but we strap ourselves with all sorts of death pledges; they just come by different names. The Bible refers to them as yokes.
The yoke was a wooden device placed across the shoulders of a pair of oxen so they could work together in plowing a field. It worked out well if the yoke was fitted correctly and the animals were equal. If they were poorly fitted, the animals would get sores as the wood of the yoke rubbed up against them. If they were unequally yoked, the weaker of the animal would be carried along to wherever the stronger one led.
Remember last week? We talked about the Prophet Jeremiah. He said to the king of Jerusalem, “Bring your necks under the yoke of the king of Babylon, and serve him and his people and live.” (Jeremiah 27:12) Jeremiah was telling the king that, for a time, he and the people must submit to the rule of the Babylonians. The Babylonians were much stronger, so Israel would have to go where they led, but by submitting, the Israelites would live.
Ultimately, the Israelites refused to listen to Jeremiah and attempted to throw off the Babylonians. For these actions, the Prophet said to them, “By breaking a wooden yoke, you forge an iron yoke!” (Jeremiah 28:13) The Prophet said, “If you think things are bad now, just you wait!” Through their refusal to heed God’s word to them, like us in taking on an even greater mortgage, they took on an even greater death pledge and became even more firmly yoked to their enemy.
These types of yokes exist in the world outside of ourselves, but they exist within as well. Our souls can become yoked with those iron yokes, and we can be spiritually led—dragged, kicking, and screaming—where we do not want to go. St. Paul said it best, “For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate…. 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. Wretched man that I am!” You can almost hear him scream with frustration as he writes those words. The iron yoke around his soul leads him to commit deeds he did not want to commit and to speak words he would later regret, and we would all like to think that it is only Paul that this can happen to, but we know better. We all know the yoke that is strapped to our souls. And we can come to believe that it is a death pledge—something we will never be rid of until we are dead.
Here’s a question (and I don’t expect you to be shouting out the answer): what is the spiritual yoke in your life? What death pledge have you made that no matter how hard you try to overcome it, it remains? And, if it seems you’ve finally defeated it, it only comes back worse than before. You’re like the person Jesus spoke about: “When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, but finds none. Then it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when it comes, it finds the house empty, swept, and put in order. Then it goes and brings with it seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there, and the last state of that person is worse than the first.” (Matthew 12:43-45) We all fall prey to this cycle. Like the Israelites and the Babylonians, a person in such a place has exchanged a wooden yoke for a yoke of iron. They join Paul in his frustration and say, “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”
To this, Jesus replies, “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.”
St John Chrysostom understood how Jesus might expand on those words by saying, “Come, not to give an account but to be freed of your sins. Come, because I don’t need the glory you can give me: I need your salvation… Don’t fear if you hear me talk of a yoke, it is sweet; don’t fear if I speak about a burden, it is light.”
Jesus put it another way, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” (Matthew 16:24-25a)
“Take my yoke” is just another way of saying, “Take up your cross.” The yoke and the cross are the loving means of your salvation. If otherwise, Jesus would not say He is “gentle and humble of heart.” Instead, he would say, “Take my yoke and slave your life away.” “Take my yoke and die under my driving whip.” No. “Take my yoke and find rest.” Find peace. It is no guarantee that things will become rosy and without a care in the world, but it is a promise of comfort in the assurances of Christ; know that regardless of the difficulties, you are yoked to the One who can and will see you through.
You may not ever have a house mortgage, but every one of us will wear a spiritual yoke, so, in the words of Joshua, “Choose this day whom you will serve.” (Joshua 24:15) Will you struggle under the iron yoke of this world and forfeit your soul, or will you submit to the yoke of Christ and live? Say with Paul, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Choose the yoke of Christ and find your soul’s only place of rest.
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 so that we may serve You with a willing heart. Amen.
Boudreaux dies and arrives at the Gates of Heaven, where he sees a huge wall of clocks behind him.
He asks St. Peter, “What are all those clocks?”
St. Peter says, “Those are Lie Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie Clock. Every time you lie, the hands on your clock will move.”
“Oh,” says Boudreaux, “whose clock is that?”
“That’s Jesus’ clock,” Peter answered. “It has never moved, showing that he never told a lie.”
“Incredible,” says Boudreaux. “And whose clock is that one?”
Peter responds, “That’s Abraham Lincoln’s clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life.”
“So where’s my clock?” asks Boudreaux.
“Your clock is in God’s office. He uses it as a ceiling fan.”
In his book Phaedrus, Plato wrote, “An alliance with a powerful person is never safe.” The same is true with alliances between nations. The history of Israel, during the time of the prophets, makes the point.
In 609 BC, Josiah was the King of Judah (The King of the South). At that time, the Egyptians were marching north for battle with another kingdom, but Josiah decided to attack them for unknown reasons. That did not go well, and Josiah was killed in battle. Judah then became a vassal of Egypt and had to pay them a handsome tribute. Josiah’s son, Jehoahaz, ascended the throne, but Egypt didn’t like him as king, fearing that he would seek vengeance for his father, so the Egyptians removed him and installed Jehoiakim as king.
That relationship was rocky but was working as planned until along came the Babylonians, who won a decisive victory against Egypt in 605 BC. Jehoiakim, wanting to save his own backside, switched his allegiance to Babylon and paid them tribute, including some of the holy items from the Temple. As you would imagine, this did not go over well with everyone, including Prophet Jeremiah.
Jeremiah had been close to Josiah, but he saw Jehoiakim as a wicked king—which he was—and denounced him.
Although strong, the Babylonians could not fully control the Egyptians and the surrounding area. In 597 BC, thinking that the Babylonians had been so weakened that he could do as he liked, Jehoiakim stopped paying them tribute and once again allied himself with the Egyptians. But remember, “An alliance with a powerful person is never safe,” because—as you may remember from last week—there’s always someone looking to be king of the mountain.
When Jehoiakim stopped paying tribute to Nebuchadnezzar, the King of the Babylonians, returned and laid siege to Jerusalem. He conquered the city, killed Johoiakm, took some Israelites into captivity, and installed a new king. If you think Jehoiakim wasn’t all that bright, meet Zedekiah.
Like Jehoiakim, Zedekiah played along with the Babylonians, but after ten years, it became increasingly clear that he wanted to stop paying tribute. Many were with him, but others, including that nagging prophet, Jeremiah, opposed.
Jeremiah told the people that the Babylonians were essentially the hand of God, working God’s judgment against them for their sins. As a visual aid, the Lord said to Jeremiah, “Make yourself straps and yoke-bars, and put them on your neck.” (Jeremiah 27:2) The yoke said to the people, “For a time, this must be you. You must be under the yoke of the Babylonians while God exacts His punishment on you for your misdeeds.” Jeremiah said, to King Zedekiah, “Bring your necks under the yoke of the king of Babylon, and serve him and his people and live.” (Jeremiah 27:12) As hard as he tried, the king and the people opposed, and even some that claimed to be prophets were against him, one of which we heard about today, Hananiah.
Hananiah, claiming to speak for God, said, “I have broken the yoke of the king of Babylon. Within two years I will bring back to this place all the vessels of the Lord’s house, which Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, took away from this place and carried to Babylon.” (Jeremiah 28:3) Hananiah was calling the people to rebuke Nebuchadnezzar and the prophecies of Jeremiah and to believe that they would be free within two years. This is where our reading from today came in. In responding to him, Jeremiah said, “Amen! May the Lord do so; may the Lord make the words that you have prophesied come true.” Jeremiah said, “Those are nice words, and I pray they come true.” Hananiah then broke the yoke that Jeremiah had fashioned for himself and declared that the yoke of Nebuchadnezzar would be broken similarly. Jeremiah heard these things and then went his way, and the people and King Zedekiah remained in their sin. Two months later, the prophet—the false prophet—Hananiah died, and the Babylonians completely sacked Jerusalem.
Thomas Sowell is an author, economist, and social commentator.
He wrote, “When you want to help people, you tell them the truth. When you want to help yourself, you tell them what they want to hear.” (The Thomas Sowell Reader, p.398) Jeremiah was speaking the truth, but Hananiah was simply telling the people what they wanted to hear. Like ol’ Boudreaux, Hananiah had told many lies, and he paid for his sin.
Jeremiah said, “As for the prophet who prophesies peace, when the word of that prophet comes true, then it will be known that the Lord has truly sent the prophet.” The Prophet who preached peace was Jesus. St. Paul tells us in his letter to the Ephesians that Jesus “came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father.” (Ephesians 2:17-18) And the peace that Jesus was preaching was not about the peace between nations, but the everlasting peace between God and His children—between God and us.
If that were the end, then all would be well, but throughout the New Testament, we hear of those who will come and spread lies like Hananiah. In his first Epistle, St. John tells us, “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world.” (1 John 4:1) Just so you know how bad these false prophets are, John declares they have “the spirit of the antichrist.” (1 John 4:3) St. Peter also warns us, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8) Jesus has prophesied and brought peace between God and humankind, it is ours for the asking. Still, some would seek to destroy that peace, so we must be on our guard against them. It can, however, get a little tricky. Why?
Paul wrote to Timothy, “The time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths.” (2 Timothy 4:3-4) Like Hananiah, these false prophets will tell us what we want to hear instead of what we need to hear. The heart of the false message is the same as it has always been. The same as it was in the beginning when the snake—the greatest of false prophets—tempted Eve and said things like, “Did God really say…” and “You will not surely die.” The false prophet’s message is confusing, for it contains half-truths and subtle lies, but they are there, and many believe.
So there are various false prophets in the world, and there is the snake, but there is one other false prophet that runs a close second to it. My friend, Stephen King, said it best, “We lie best when we lie to ourselves.” (It, p.445)
If we pay attention and stay true to the teachings of the Gospel, then I believe we have a good chance of not falling prey to the Hananiahs of the world, but when it comes to lying to ourselves, we are experts. We know all our own arguments and weaknesses, and strategies and the Hananiah within can play us like a fiddle. St. John told us to “test the spirits to see whether they are from God,” so we must also test our own spirit and those things we believe to be true. Are we simply telling ourselves those things we want to believe, or are they consistent with the teachings of Jesus? If we are lying to ourselves, then we’ve already lost. As The Bard wrote:
“This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.”
(Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 3)
Jesus said, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:31-32) You are Jesus’ disciples. Do not listen to or tolerate the lies from outside yourself or from within, but seek to discern the truth.
Let us pray: O Mary, Mother of Mercy, watch over all people that the Cross of Christ may not be emptied of its power, that humankind may not stray from the path of the good or become blind to sin, but may put their hope ever more fully in God who is “rich in mercy.” May we carry out the good works prepared by God beforehand and so live completely “for the praise of his glory.” Amen.
Question: There are ten of them, and if you add up the length of each, they would measure 28 feet, 5 inches. What are they? Answer: Lee Redmond’s fingernails.
World records.
3.46 inches is the longest nose and adorns a fella’s face in Turkey.
The highest-paid musician over twelve months is Taylor Swift. She earned $186 million over twelve months in 2018-2019.
The tallest man is 8 feet 3 inches, and the shortest woman is just over two feet (only weighing nine pounds more than she did when she was born.)
The loudest recorded cat purr is 67.8 decibels. That’s the equivalent of an alarm clock.
There is even a world record for holding the most world records. That would be Ashrita Furman. He holds over 800, including one for climbing Mount Fuji on a pogo stick.
The thing about most world records, especially the more relevant ones—land speed records, high jumps, etc.—is that someone is always gunning for you. With all my singing talent, I’m working on the Taylor Swift one.
We like to have records for all sorts of things, from the tallest building to the tallest mountain. However, we begin to get ourselves into trouble when we say that a particular event was the biggest, strongest, or worst. Nassim Taleb makes the point in his book, Antifragile. Taleb uses Fukushima nuclear reactor to prove the point. He says this mistake can be seen “in the Fukushima nuclear reactor, which experienced a catastrophic failure in 2011 when a tsunami struck. It had been built to withstand the worst past historical earthquake, with the builders not imagining much worse—and not thinking that the worst past event had to be a surprise, as it had no precedent.” Taleb calls this the Lucrecian Problem.
Lucretius was “the Latin poetic philosopher who wrote that the fool believes that the tallest mountain in the world will be equal to the tallest one he has observed.” Applied to the world today, Taleb says, “Professionals look in the past for information on the so-called worst-case scenario and use it to estimate future risks – this method is called ‘stress testing.’ They take the worst historical recession, the worst war, the worst historical move in interest rates, or the worst point in unemployment as an exact estimate for the worst future outcome. But they never notice the following inconsistency: this so-called worst-case event, when it happened, exceeded the worst [known] case at the time.” (Source) Such occurrences have taken place throughout history.
In 701 BC, the Assyrian army invaded and conquered the Northern Kingdom of Israel, taking many Israelites into captivity. Afterward, that same army moved south and laid siege to Jerusalem.
Several estimates as to the size of the army are given, and they go as high as 300,000 fighting soldiers, so they should have been able to destroy Jerusalem quickly. However, Hezekiah was King of the South and Jerusalem and was considered a very righteous king, so when he prayed, the Lord answered. “That very night the angel of the Lord set out and struck down one hundred eighty-five thousand in the camp of the Assyrians.” (2 Kings 19:35)
Later, about 100 years, the Babylonians laid siege to Jerusalem, but at this time, the Israelites had begun to worship false gods, and their kings were seen as wicked, so the prophets spoke against them, calling them back to the Lord. Jeremiah, whom we heard from this morning, was one of the prophets.
Our reading is a bit out of context, so it is difficult to understand whom Jeremiah is speaking to, but with a bit of work, we discover that he is speaking against the priests in the Lord’s Temple. He is speaking against the Israelites. Why? Because Jeremiah had just preached a sermon where he told them that the Lord, using the Babylonians, was about to destroy Jerusalem and all its inhabitants. Those priests didn’t much care for this message, so they beat Jeremiah and threw him in the stocks. After his release, Jeremiah spoke those words we heard today: “They will be greatly shamed, for they will not succeed.”
Near the end, the Israelites tried to do right, but it was too little, too late. The Lord had decided. The city would be destroyed, and it was. Many factors ushered in that destruction, but I think one of them was the Lucrecian Problem—they believed “that the tallest mountain in the world will be equal to the tallest one they have observed.” In their arrogance, they believed that they had already faced the tallest mountain, the Assyrians, and defeated them; therefore, they believed they were indestructible; after all, they were God’s Chosen People. They could do what they liked and stand against any enemy, but the Lord said, “Allow Me to introduce you to the Babylonians.” A much larger mountain that fell upon them and utterly destroyed them in its power. The Lucrecian Problem—it works on a large scale, but also small.
If you were to think back over your life, do you know which—of all your days—was the worst? I think many people do. Mine is very vivid, and perhaps I’ll share that with you someday, but when we think of that day, we might say something to the effect of, “Things couldn’t be any worse.” If you say that aloud, someone might respond, “Don’t say that!” Because the truth is, they can be. There can always be a bigger mountain out there, just over the horizon.
For many—maybe all of us—that is a terrifying thought. So, how can we prepare ourselves so that when it arrives, we are not the ones who are utterly destroyed?
First, we can take to heart the words of Jesus, “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
To overcome the fear of the next mountain in our life is to recognize Whom we belong to and our worth in His eyes. We are the Lord’s possession, we are His children, and He loves us so much that He gave His one and only Son that we might be saved, so do not give into the fear that rises up within you when you first see that mountain. Look it in the proverbial eye and tell it to Whom you belong. Not in arrogance, but in faith, for if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” In other words, “Do not fear, for the mountain will not overcome you, but God will overcome it for you.”
Second, we prepare ourselves by practicing our faith, not just when the mountain looms above us but also when the path is relatively easy. Last week, St. Paul said to us in his letter to the Romans, “Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Through our daily walk, we build up our endurance, strengthen our character, and through our faith, as we overcome smaller obstacles, we build up our hope, our confidence in God’s love for us.
If you are sitting here, congratulations, you have survived your worst day—so far. To not succumb to the Lucrecian Problem, realize that more bad days will come, but by not fearing those days—those mountains—because you belong to God, and by developing confidence in God’s love, you will be able to stand and face those things that come against you, regardless of their size.
Let us pray: Lord Jesus Christ, we believe in You as our God and Savior. Make us more faithful to Your Gospel and commandments. By sharing in the Eucharist, may we come to live more fully in the life You have given us. Keep Your Love alive within our hearts and soul so that we may become worthy of You. Teach us to value and be thankful for all of Your Gifts. Please help us to strive for eternal life. Amen.
John the Baptist (right) with the Christ Child, in The Holy Children with a Shell by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo
Today we celebrate the nativity of John the Baptist, and I confess that I like his style. The first recorded words of his that we have: “You brood of vipers!” He announced the coming of the Savior and told the people to prepare for what was to come. “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.”
For some, this message of John’s only made them angry, but for others, it was what they had been waiting for, so instead of fighting him, they asked, “What should we do?” In other words, if being the children of Abraham—the recipients of the First Covenant with God—won’t save us, then what must we do to be saved?
How did John respond?: “Self-flagellation all around. Minimum of 50 lashes each!” “Walk in the desert like me, eating only wild honey and locusts.” “Sit in the scorching sun and read all the Psalms every day.” Was this how John responded? No. Was anything John said for them to do really all that difficult? Not even close.
If you have extra clothes and see someone in need, give them some of yours. If you see someone who is hungry and you can help them, then do so. Let me ask you this: at what age did you learn you were supposed to share? Two? Three? That is all John asked the people to do. To share. To love and care for one another. To the tax collectors, he said, “Do your job fairly. The government needs taxes to provide services, so collect the taxes that are called for, but don’t abuse your position and steal extra from the people.” To the soldiers, he said, “Be the ones who protect the people and not the ones who exploit them.” It sounds like something Jesus said, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” John the Baptist said to those children of Abraham, “Act like decent human beings.”
Through Christ and the New Covenant that he established, we now have been grafted into the family. We are also the children of Abraham. So the question comes to us: Would John the Baptist stand before us and, in a loud and angry voice, address us as a brood of vipers? Children of snakes, instead of children of Abraham? Are we making the same mistakes that the people made then?
We are children of Abraham, not of snakes. We are sons and daughters of God Most High, made perfect through the everlasting Covenant established by Jesus. But we must never lose sight of the fact that we are also called to live like Jesus. St. Paul wrote to the church in Ephesus, “Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” In imitation of Christ, we are called to sacrifice ourselves through radical generosity, not for our benefit but for the benefit of others. In this, we will “Bear fruits worthy of repentance.”
Walden; or, Life in the Woods, written by Henry David Thoreau, was first published in 1854. In it, Thoreau speaks about the two years, two months, and two days he spent living near Walden Pond in Massachusetts.
Being a naturalist, Thoreau wrote about his observations in nature but also about living a simpler life. He observed, “A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone.” A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can do without. So, what can we do without? The list is a lot longer than you would think.
Some things make life more entertaining, but we can live without them: TV, sports, putt-putt golf—I would say, books, but my mind just won’t go there—social media, etc.
There are other items that make life more convenient, but we can also live without them, such as cars, computers, stoves, running water, coffee makers—note, I did not say coffee—cell phones, and the like.
There are even body parts that are unnecessary: one of your lungs, stomach, appendix, one of your kidneys, spleen; and just ask any politician, and you’ll learn you can live without a brain.
Today, in our Gospel reading, Jesus sent out the twelve disciples and gave them their marching orders: “Proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.” He also told them what they were to go without: “Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff; for laborers deserve their food.” Go and do this work and take nothing with you except the clothes on your back and shoes on your feet. I could understand not sending them out with a second pair of shoes, but no money. Seems foolhardy. What would be the purpose?
I’ve shared with you that my favorite book is The Stand by my friend Stephen King. At one point, four of the characters are sent on a journey. Like Jesus’ disciples, they are told to take only the clothes on their backs and the shoes on their feet. One of the characters, Glen Bateman, is a sociologist. When the discussion comes up, and someone asks why they were sent out with nothing, Glen tries to provide an answer. He says, “Maybe to gain strength and holiness by a purging process…. The casting away of things is symbolic, you know. Talismanic. When you cast away things, you’re also casting away the self-related others that are symbolically related to those things. You start a cleaning-out process. You begin to empty the vessel.” (p.1198)
The same is true with the disciples that Jesus sent out. He sent them without anything so that they could become empty vessels. Not so that they would remain so, but so that they could then be filled with God and a reliance on God.
St. Paul writes to Timothy, “Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver but also of wood and clay, some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work.” (2 Timothy 2:20-21)
The disciple of Jesus is emptied and then set aside for God’s honorable use. Yet notice, in both those instances—The Stand and the Gospel (and, no, I’m not putting them on equal terms)—the one thing those individuals were not told to go without was one another. The four went together in The Stand, and the disciples we learn in Luke and Mark, were sent in pairs; and you see in Matthew’s Gospel, they were named in pairs. You are to go with nothing but the clothes on your back and the shoes on your feet, but you are to go with one another.
I read about a recent study on loneliness that the Surgeon General published in May. The results were published in several sources. In a Forbes interview, the Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murthy, said, “Our epidemic of loneliness and isolation has been an underappreciated public health crisis that has harmed individual and societal health. Our relationships are a source of healing and well-being hiding in plain sight—one that can help us live healthier, more fulfilled and more productive lives.” (Source) We are living in an epidemic of loneliness and isolation. We have so many things that we don’t need, but the one thing we truly need—one another—many are lacking.
Remember the study of the 1,600 Harvard graduates I shared with you last week? The author of the study wrote, “Turns out, there was one—and only one—characteristic that distinguished the happiest 10 percent from everybody else: the strength of their social relationships.” (Source) In sharing that, I focused on our need for relationship with Jesus, but this week, I want you to understand your need for one another, particularly as it relates to your Christian walk and your daily life.
In Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes, “If there is so much blessing and joy even in a single encounter of brother with brother, how inexhaustible are the riches that open up for those who by God’s will are privileged to live in the daily fellowship of life with other Christians!… It is grace, nothing but grace, that we are allowed to live in community with Christian brethren.” (p.20)
Bonhoeffer was thinking of Finkenwalde, the underground seminary he taught during the Nazi reign, but what he said applies to us all. Christianity does not exist outside of community, and it provides benefits to God’s people.
Through our life together, we are able to witness the work of God in one another. We hold one another accountable and can provide guidance. We come together in worship and prayer and live out our faith in word and deed.
A Lutheran pastor and professor, Reed Lessing, tells the story of a Native American ritual for training young braves:
On the night of a boy’s thirteenth birthday, he was placed in a dense forest to spend the entire night alone. Until then, he had never been away from the security of his family and tribe. But on this night, he was blindfolded and taken miles away. When he took off the blindfold, he was in the middle of thick woods. He was terrified!
Every time a twig snapped, he visualized a wild animal ready to pounce. Every time an animal howled, he imagined a wolf leaping out of the darkness. Every time the wind blew, he wondered if a storm was coming.
After what must have seemed like an eternity, the first rays of sunlight entered the interior of the forest. Looking around, the boy saw flowers, trees, and the outline of the path. Then, to his utter astonishment, he saw the figure of a man standing just a few feet away, armed with a bow. It was the boy’s father who had been there all night long!
When we become empty vessels for God, we discover the many things we can live without. However, within our Christian life, we cannot live without one another. Jesus is with us until the end of the ages, but we also need someone beside us to guard and care for us, just as we need to be there to guard and care for others.
Jesus sends us out to do the work He has called us to, but He has called us into relationship with Himself and one another so that we would not be alone along the way. Look around you. These are the ones that God has called you to walk with. They are here for you, and you are here for them. That is a sacred and holy bond, and as Bonhoeffer said, it is a grace—God’s undeserved favor—that we should be in community together.
Let us pray: Heavenly Father, author and inspirer of all things holy, hear our prayers for our Church. Send forth Your Spirit that Your Divine Will may humbly guide us. Touch our hearts with true generosity to raise up a house of God for the inspiration and renewal of all your faithful. We ask this in Jesus’ Name. Amen.
A note to the reader: I’m starting to share my sermons with whoever would like to preach them, which means they will be posted on the blog prior to Sunday so that they are available. Should you attend services at St. Matthew’s, you may want to wait until after the service to read. If you read before the service, please don’t spoil the jokes by shouting out the answers before I’ve told them or discussing them beforehand. I write sermons to be heard, not necessarily read. Thanks.
A woman testified to the transformation in her life that had resulted from her experience in conversion to the Christian faith. She declared, “I’m so glad I got religion. I have an uncle I used to hate so much that I vowed I’d never go to his funeral. But now, why, I’d be happy to go to it any time.”
Christy shared with me the premise of the book The Measure by Nikki Erlick. Afterward, hearing the premise, I wanted to read it, and knowing the premise won’t spoil it for you as it is put forward in the first few pages.
On a particular day, everyone in the world—whether they live in the middle of a sprawling metropolis or are a member of some undiscovered tribe of South America—receives a small box. On the lid of the box is the person’s name and the phrase, “The measure of your life lies within.” Within is a piece of string. What is learned is that both the box and the string are indestructible, and, more importantly, the length of the string represents the length of your life.
After a short time, the scientists come out with a measuring device, and you can measure your string to find out when you will die. How convenient. Some open their boxes and are the first to learn their fate, and others do not, having no desire to know. From there, the story plays out several scenarios, showing the various implications of having and controlling such information. However, what was clear—and a bit obvious—was that the “short-stringers,” those whose lives would soon come to an end, began to live their lives and do those things that they’ve always wanted to and believed would make them happy. That’s what got me to thinking this week, and it reminded me of another book and a particular object. The book is one of great importance and intrigue: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. The object I was thinking of: the Mirror of Erised. For a moment, please bare with the twelve-year-old that runs around inside my head.
The Mirror of Erised—Erised is desire spelled backward. According to the all-wise Professor Albus Dumbledore, the mirror shows us the “deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.” Harry Potter’s parents died when he was a baby, so when he looks in the mirror, he sees himself with his parents standing beside him. Ron Weasley sees himself as a champion and very handsome.
The problem is that Harry keeps returning time after time, spending hours sitting in front of the mirror, gazing at his parents. This is when Professor Dumbledore steps in. He says to Harry, “Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible,” and that “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” When it comes to being happy, the professor says, “The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror; that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is.”
This week, those two ideas—the measure of the string and the Mirror of Erised—came together in my head. I wondered why we would wait until the end to seek out and fulfill those things that would make us happy. If you knew something would bring you happiness, why would you wait until you learned you were going to die to fulfill it? To live it?
Dan Gilbert wrote the book, Stumbling on Happiness. He writes, “We treat our future selves as though they were our children, spending most of the hours of most of our days constructing tomorrows that we hope will make them happy… But our temporal progeny are often thankless.” (Source) When I have more time, I’ll write a book. When I have enough money saved up for retirement, then I’ll take that trip. When things are more secure, I’ll apply for the job I really want.
The piece of string in the book is a literary tool that points to a greater truth. A biblical truth. The Psalmist says to the Lord, “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me when as yet there was none of them.” Jesus said, “Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” The string is fictional, but the number of our days is set. There is no changing them.
Everyone is now thinking, “I’m so glad I came to church this morning. This is such an uplifting and joyous message.” I get that, but it is not a message to depress you. It is a message to inspire. The message: your days are numbered; quit wasting them by looking for happiness in places where you will not find it.
Gilbert, the author of Stumbling on Happiness, was asked in an interview, “How do I find happiness?” He began his answer by saying, “People have been writing books that promise to answer that question for roughly two thousand years, and the result has been a lot of unhappy people and a lot of dead trees.” (Source) We look in that mirror and see all the things that we desire. All the things we believe will make us happy, but we are wrong in our desires.
A scientist, over a considerable period, studied 1,600 Harvard graduates. He writes, “Turns out, there was one—and only one—characteristic that distinguished the happiest 10 percent from everybody else: the strength of their social relationships…. social support was a far greater predictor of happiness than any other factor, more than GPA, family income, SAT scores, age, gender, or race.” “The capacity to love and be loved was the single strength most clearly associated with subjective well-being at age eighty.” (Source) Relationships.
OK, Father John, this is all very interesting, but you haven’t said a word about Jesus—about God. But if you know me, you know that this is ALL about God. God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—and the Imago Dei, the image of God we encounter in one another.
We read the words that the Lord spoke through Hosea, “In their distress they will beg my favor: ‘Come, let us return to the Lord; for it is he who has torn, and he will heal us; he has struck down, and he will bind us up.” Relationship. From our lesson in Romans: Abraham “grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.” And this faith was reckoned to Abraham as righteousness, and through Abraham, it is reckoned to us. Relationship.
“As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’” Matthew said, “I was looking in this mirror, and it showed me fat and happy. Lots of cash, big house on the hill, trophy wife, and 2.5 kids. Once I have all that, I’ll have my people get in touch.” No. Matthew “got up and followed him.” Relationship. “Many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with [Jesus] and his disciples.” Relationship with Jesus and with one another.
Jesus raised the young girl from the dead, and He does the same for us in this life and the next so that we might be in an eternal relationship with Him.
Last week I spoke about how through God’s grace—His undeserved favor—we are the recipients of God’s unfailing love, and through this love, we are invited into the very presence of God. Our response to that love and invitation determines whether or not we will enter into this relationship with Him. It is figuratively looking into Harry Potter’s mirror and seeing the One True Object of our desire, the One and only One that brings to fulfillment all other desires—ourselves with God and one another in relationship.
Jesus said, “Do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’” Jesus said, ‘Don’t be anxious about the false desires you see in the mirror.’ “For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”
You will never receive a box with a piece of string, you will never know the number of your days, and you will never need to. It is truly irrelevant. You only need to know that on this day, you are loved by God, and by receiving, responding, and experiencing that love, your every desire is met.
As King David said, “Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually!”
Let us pray: Grant me, O Lord my God, a mind to know you, a heart to seek you, wisdom to find you, conduct pleasing to you, faithful perseverance in waiting for you, and a hope of finally embracing you. Amen.
Does anyone recognize the names Frank Lee Morris, John Anglin, and Clarence Anglin? What if I told you Clint Eastwood portrayed Frank Morris in a 1979 movie? Well, the movie is Escape from Alcatraz, and it is about those three men and their great escape from Alcatraz prison on June 11, 1962.
It was supposed to be the prison that no one could escape from. Still, those three escaped by using a spoon to dig a tunnel through a concrete wall, paper mâché dummies to represent their sleeping bodies in their cells, and fifty stolen raincoats to build a raft to cross a mile-and-a-half of open water to freedom.
Authorities said they drowned in the process, but no bodies were ever discovered. In 2013 a letter was received, reportedly from one of the Anglin brothers, and said they all survived and had been living in Brazil. And in 2016, a photo of the two brothers that was taken thirteen years after the escape was discovered. There’s been no official confirmation on either of these revelations.
So it seems this was one of the successful prison breaks, but not everyone is so fortunate or intelligent. For example, in 1975, seventy-five individuals attempted to escape via a tunnel out of a Mexican prison. After digging a considerable distance, they surfaced, only to find themselves in the courtroom where they had all been convicted. And in 2012, four men in Brazil attempted to escape through a tunnel they had dug. The first guy got through, but the second, well, he got stuck. The local fire chief said, “[The second man] has a very large physique, and is also very tall. The other prisoners tried to push him, but he stayed stuck in the wall. He started screaming in pain, and that was when the prison guards were alerted.” Jailbirds? More like Jail Dodoes.
Today, in our first lesson, we read the creation account. After all was said and done, God said it was good, but we know the rest of the story. All that God created was still good but became stained by sin, so God removed Adam and Eve from the paradise He had created for them. God drove them “out from the garden of Eden to work the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man, and at the east of the Garden of Eden, he placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life.”
We can read about successful and failed prison breaks—those folks trying to get out—but I would suggest to you this morning that we are like them, but instead of trying to break out of someplace, we have been trying to break back in. Break back into that garden. The place where, like Adam and Eve, we can walk with God because the presence of God is our true home.
It is too long of a quote for a sermon, but it is worth it. In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis wrote, “The Christian says, ‘Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water… If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or to be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death.”
We desire our true country, our true home, which is the presence of God, so we search for ways to get there. At times, we can deceive ourselves into thinking we have found it, but these are only our own machinations. Smoke and mirrors and, in the end, we are like that stocky fella in Brazil and get stuck along the way or like those fellas in Mexico that tunnel out of prison and into the very place where they were condemned. We seek the presence of God through our own devices and are turned away by those cherubim with their flaming sword. So, what is the answer? How do we come into the presence of the Triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?
There was a TV show called Burn Notice. It has seven seasons. I never saw it, but I came across a quote from one of the episodes. The main character is talking about breaking into a safe, and he says, “There are two schools of safe cracking. Some people like to beat the lock; some people like to break the lock. But it doesn’t matter when the safe is sitting wide open.”
We search for ways to break into God’s presence and our true home, but the door, the Way, is already open and made available to us. And not just when we are dead and gone, but this very day. If that is true, which we believe it is, how do we enter? How do we come into relationship with God and enter into His presence?
Some would say, “Live a good life. Do good works. Be a nice person,” but St. Paul tells us that our salvation “is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8b-9) A good life, good works, and being a nice person all fall under the category of works. Paul goes on to tell us that we were created to perform good works, but those good works are not how we enter into God’s presence.
Others would tell us that we must pray the sinners’ prayer. A prayer where you confess that you are a sinner, declare Jesus as your Lord and Savior, and that you turn to Him. It is a good prayer, but it is really only a tool because it also falls under the same category as works. If you read any version, the most glaring word is “I.” It is all about what I am doing. I’ll do this. I’ll do that. I’ll work on the other. A good prayer, but too many “I’s” for my taste.
“Fine, Father John, so how? How do I enter into God’s presence?”
Just before those few verses on works from Ephesians, St. Paul answers the question: “God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith.”
We hone in on that word grace, defined as “undeserved favor.” So we are saved by God’s undeserved favor, but that still doesn’t answer, “Why?” But Paul did provide the answer in the first part of that passage—“God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us….”
To enter into God’s presence, you do not have to break in or work your way in. The gate is already open, and we are allowed entry. We are allowed entry through no action of our own, no great deed, no philanthropic gesture, no nothing. We are permitted entry because we have been loved into God’s presence. Our love for God follows His grace, His love for us. As St. John tells us, “We love because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19) There it is. The Way to God’s presence is through His love for us.
Today is Trinity Sunday. I’ve shared with you in the past my understanding that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are united, one to another, through their bond of love. It is that same love that binds Them together that is then extended toward us. We, in turn, then choose to accept or reject this gift of love from the Holy Trinity.
On the sixth day of creation, God created humankind, yet, even before that day, God knew you and loved you, and through Adam and Eve, we lived in His presence. Yet, there was a time when we were cut off from that Presence, but because God so loved the world, He made The Way possible for us to return. He gave His Son, His Son who is love incarnate, and, as St. John tells us, all who receive Him and all who believe in His name are given the right to become children of God. (cf. John 1:12) Therefore, by receiving Jesus, you receive God’s love, and you enter into your true country—the Presence of Our God.
Question: what are you waiting for?
Let us pray: Glory be to the Father, Who by His almighty power and love created us, making us in the image and likeness of God.
Glory be to the Son, Who by His Precious Blood delivered us from hell, and opened for us the gates of heaven.
Glory be to the Holy Spirit, Who has sanctified us in the sacrament of Baptism, and continues to sanctify us by the graces we receive daily from His bounty.
Glory be to the Three adorable Persons of the Holy Trinity, now and forever.
“Visitation” with donor portrait, from Altarpiece of the Virgin (St Vaast Altarpiece) by Jacques Daret, c. 1435
I came across a brief study of the word preposterous. Pre is something we are familiar with, which means “before.” The Latin word posterous is a bit more tricky, but if you think of what you fall on when you slip on the ice, posterior (aka the derrière), then you know that posterous has something to do with the backside. More accurately, it means “coming after” or “that which comes after.” Therefore, preposterous means: that which comes before comes afterward… backward. We take it to mean absurd or silly.
Donald K. McKim, the former Dean of Memphis Theological Seminary, used the word preposterous in a perspective on Christianity. He wrote, “Now Christianity is a preposterous faith because it asks us actually to live backward. Or, to put it another way, Christianity asks us to put some things before other things when more naturally, we’d choose to live the other way around. The faith calls us as followers of Jesus Christ to a new lifestyle, a new way of living. It asks us to hold new attitudes. In short, Christianity asks us to live in a way the world may judge to be absurd. Yet all the time, we are really only being truly preposterous.” Christianity asks us “to live backward” lives that, by the world’s standards, are absurd, silly, and foolish.
How preposterous is Christianity? Just in our Gospel account today, we are asked to believe that Elizabeth, a woman who was barren and “getting on in years,” was to bear a son; we are asked to believe that a virgin, Mary, conceived a child of the Holy Spirit, and we are asked to believe that this child is the Son of God, the long-awaited Messiah. Nothing preposterous there. We are also called to believe some preposterous ideas and are also called to live preposterous lives. St. John writes in his First Epistle: “Do not love the world or the things in the world. The love of the Father is not in those who love the world; for all that is in the world—the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches—comes not from the Father but from the world.” Yet, as preposterous as all this sounds to some, we believe. We seek to live according to the call that the Father has placed on our lives. For we know that he takes the weak, the broken, the blind, and even the crucified, and renews it, redeems it for his purposes.
In his first letter to the church in Corinth, Paul writes: “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God… we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles… Consider your call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, and not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are.”
When we consider a barren older woman giving birth to the greatest prophet ever born, a virgin conceiving a child by the Holy Spirit, a child born in a stable being the Son of God—when we consider all these weak, low, despised, preposterous individuals and the work God performed through them, then I ask you, why would you ever think God couldn’t do the same through you?
The French novelist, Colette, said, “You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.” If our faith and our actions appear preposterous, if they appear foolish, so be it. You be faithful in your work. You be enthusiastically preposterous and reveal the Risen Christ to the world.
Candle in a Cave 