Sacred Heart
Sermon: St. Antony
For those receiving emails, this may be a duplicate. A few technical issues.
The podcast is available here.
“As we have received the soul as a deposit, let us preserve it for the Lord, that he may recognize His work as being the same as He made it.” If one sentence had to describe the life goal of St. Antony, the above, written by St. Athanasius in his Life of Antony, would fall far short, but would provide us with at least a gleaning. The verse that inspired such a life is Matthew 19:21 which states, “Jesus answered, ‘If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’” Or, as we read today from Mark’s Gospel when the rich young man asked what he must do to inherit eternal life. “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
Antony was born in the early third century to a well-to-do family. When he was twenty, his parents died leaving him a substantial inheritance and a younger sister to care for, but upon hearing those commands of Jesus to sell everything, he obeyed. He immediately sold all of his possessions and gave it all away except for the few things that he and sister would need. Upon hearing more of the words of Jesus, “therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself,” he gave away all that was remaining and placed his sister in a convent.
That is not a calling to everyone, but it is should certainly serve as a reminder. A reminder that all we have, including our very souls, belongs to God. So, what belongs to God should be cared for by us. As St. Paul declared to his young apprentice Timothy, “Guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you– guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us.”
Antony was one who guarded his soul, yet even after taking to the desert to live a solitary life the devil came after it. St. Athanasius wrote, “the enemy, who hates good… called together his hounds and burst forth… in the night they made such a din that the whole of that place seemed to be shaken by an earthquake, and the demons as if breaking the four walls of the dwelling seemed to enter through them, coming in the likeness of beasts and creeping things. And the place was on a sudden filled with the forms of lions, bears, leopards, bulls, serpents, asps, scorpions, and wolves, and each of them was moving according to his nature… Antony, stricken and goaded by them, felt bodily pains … but his mind was clear, and as in mockery he said, ‘If there had been any power in you, it would have sufficed had one of you come.”
Therefore, not only does Antony remind us that everything, including our souls, belongs to God, but he also shows us that we must actively engage in the protection of that “good deposit.” So the question for us is: How are we guarding the soul that is within us? Do we expose it to things that might harm it, or are we vigilant in placing a shield around it? We can’t place ourselves in the midst of those things that harm the soul and expect to walk away unsoiled, “If you dance with the devil, the devil doesn’t change. The devil changes you.” So, like Antony, guard your soul and put up a fight for it when you have to. It is the Lord’s possession.
Sermon: St. Antony
The podcast is available here.
“As we have received the soul as a deposit, let us preserve it for the Lord, that he may recognize His work as being the same as He made it.” If one sentence had to describe the life goal of St. Antony, the above, written by St. Athanasius in his Life of Antony, would fall far short, but would provide us with at least a gleaning. The verse that inspired such a life is Matthew 19:21 which states, “Jesus answered, ‘If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’” Or, as we read today from Mark’s Gospel when the rich young man asked what he must do to inherit eternal life. “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
Antony was born in the early third century to a well-to-do family. When he was twenty, his parents died leaving him a substantial inheritance and a younger sister to care for, but upon hearing those commands of Jesus to sell everything, he obeyed. He immediately sold all of his possessions and gave it all away except for the few things that he and sister would need. Upon hearing more of the words of Jesus, “therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself,” he gave away all that was remaining and placed his sister in a convent.
That is not a calling to everyone, but it is should certainly serve as a reminder. A reminder that all we have, including our very souls, belongs to God. So, what belongs to God should be cared for by us. As St. Paul declared to his young apprentice Timothy, “Guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you– guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us.”
Antony was one who guarded his soul, yet even after taking to the desert to live a solitary life the devil came after it. St. Athanasius wrote, “the enemy, who hates good… called together his hounds and burst forth… in the night they made such a din that the whole of that place seemed to be shaken by an earthquake, and the demons as if breaking the four walls of the dwelling seemed to enter through them, coming in the likeness of beasts and creeping things. And the place was on a sudden filled with the forms of lions, bears, leopards, bulls, serpents, asps, scorpions, and wolves, and each of them was moving according to his nature… Antony, stricken and goaded by them, felt bodily pains … but his mind was clear, and as in mockery he said, ‘If there had been any power in you, it would have sufficed had one of you come.”
Therefore, not only does Antony remind us that everything, including our souls, belongs to God, but he also shows us that we must actively engage in the protection of that “good deposit.” So the question for us is: How are we guarding the soul that is within us? Do we expose it to things that might harm it, or are we vigilant in placing a shield around it? We can’t place ourselves in the midst of those things that harm the soul and expect to walk away unsoiled, “If you dance with the devil, the devil doesn’t change. The devil changes you.” So, like Antony, guard your soul and put up a fight for it when you have to. It is the Lord’s possession.
Sermon: The Baptism of Our Lord RCL C – “Four Friends”
The podcast is available here.
The fella gets his first computer. Unpacks it, turns it on… all is well. Then the problems begin to arise. Eventually he is stuck and he calls customer service. The problem: it is no longer working. Mouse: dead. Screen: dead. The customer service agent walks him through it: “Turn it off and back on again.” Nothing. Finally, the agent wants to see if the thing is even plugged in, but the customer says he can’t see the outlet properly. The agent suggest looking at it from another angle. We’ll pick up the conversation from there:
Customer: “Oh, it’s not because I don’t have the right angle, it’s because it’s dark.”
Support: “Dark?
Customer: “Yes, the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from the window.”
Support: “Well, turn on the office light then.”
Customer: “I can’t.”
Support: “No? Why not?”
Customer: “Because there’s a power outage.”
Support: “A power… A power outage? Aha! Okay, we’ve got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?”
Customer: “Well, yes, I keep them in the closet.”
Support: “Good! Go get them, and unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from.”
Customer: “Really? Is it that bad?”
Support: “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”
Customer: “Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?”
Support: “Tell them you’re too stupid to own a computer.”
For my money, there is Siri: “Hey Siri: What is ….?” And if she can’t answer it, there is Youtube and Google, because 99.9% of the time, someone has already asked your question and in many cases, if you’ll spend a few minutes searching, you’ll discover that a true expert has answered your specific question and posted that answer for all to benefit.
Other times, we go seeking out the help we need from individuals, whether it be from a doctor, the police, and even times when we don’t necessarily think we are asking for help. Consider the grocery store. We go to the grocery store and see it as a service being provided and we choose the store we want based on the level of service we receive or want. But by going to a grocery, we are asking for help, because there are very few of us who know anything about growing food or raising animals. By going to a grocery, we are asking the grocer to help us to acquire food from those who produce it. On and on it goes. We may like to believe that we are independent, but we live in a society where we truly need one another’s help in order to survive.
We also live in a society where those who are unable to help themselves can receive assistance from others. And may I brag on you all for a minute: as part of our Community Tithe, we gave $4,500 to our neighbors at Our Daily Bread to assist them with a new floor. They serve up to 5,000 meals a month to those in need. Well done! Like Our Daily Bread, there are services being offered throughout our community to assist those in need, and our church and many of you help make those services available. In doing so, we follow Jesus teaching to love and to serve. As Thomas Merton said (I believe I’ve shared this one with you before): “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody’s business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy.” We don’t say, “You’re too stupid to own a computer… to have what you need, instead, we love and we serve.
Think of that incident when Jesus was in a house teaching. Everyone wanted to hear him and the room was packed with no way in or out. However, four friends brought their buddy, a paralytic, to see Jesus in hopes that Jesus would heal him, but because of the great crowd, they could not get in. From the Gospel of Luke: Then behold, men brought on a bed a man who was paralyzed, whom they sought to bring in and lay before Him. And when they could not find how they might bring him in, because of the crowd, they went up on the housetop and let him down with his bed through the tiling into the midst before Jesus. When He saw their faith, He said to him, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.”
The four friends carried their buddy up on the roof, tore through the tile roof, and then lowered their friend down to Jesus. We know the story from there: Jesus forgives the man’s sins and heals his paralysis. Today, when we see someone in need we will in most cases assist them, but in the time of Jesus and before, someone who was paralyzed, poor, sick, in need was judged. In Merton’s words, they were deemed unworthy, because their paralysis, poverty, sickness, whatever, was not due to circumstances, but to sin. If you are paralyzed, you are receiving the reward of your sins. Think of Job: his three friends that came to him never for once thought that Job had not sinned. They kept telling him to repent and then the Lord would restore him. Same system applies to the paralytic, he was a sinner and his paralysis was a direct result of his sins, but then… he had four friends.
He had four friends that looked past his paralysis, his sins, his issues and brought him to the one person they believed could help him: Jesus. They carried him to the roof and lowered him down. Now here is one of those amazing bits of this story that we often miss: Scripture then says, When He saw their faith, He said to him, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.” The man’s sins were forgiven and he was healed, not because of his faith, but because of his friends faith. When He saw their faith (the four friends faith), He said to him (to the paralytic), “Man, your sins are forgiven you.” The man was forgiven and healed because of the faith of his friends.
Today, the First Sunday after the Epiphany, we always read about and celebrate the Baptism of Our Lord. In doing so, even though we may not have any baptisms, we renew our Baptismal Covenant, which we will be doing in a few minutes (or half an hour, depending on how long this sermon is). We do this as a reminder to ourselves and to one another of what we as God’s people are called to. However, there is one question that we are asked at a Baptism that we are not asked when we renew our vows. It is only implied. It follows after the person to be baptized or the Godparents have been asked if they renounce Satan and turn to Christ. Then, the priest turns to the congregation, to you and asks: “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support this person in their life in Christ?” Your response: “We will.” What are you vowing to when you say, “We will”? You are vowing to be the four friends of the person being baptized. You are vowing that you will be the ones who will in faith bring this person to Jesus, you will be the ones who lower them into the waters of baptism, just as the four friend lowered the paralytic through the roof, and you will be the ones who place them before Jesus so that they may encounter Him, have their sins forgiven, and be healed.
Today, as you renew your Baptismal Covenant, I want you to remember what you have vowed to God for yourself, but I also want you to consider those around you—and even those who have not yet come to faith in Christ that you may bring to Him—I want you to consider them all and how you might fulfill your vows towards them. How you might be their four friends.
Let us pray:
Father in Heaven,
ever-living source of all that is good,
keep us faithful in serving You.
Help us to drink of Christ’s Truth,
and fill our hearts with His Love
so that we may serve You in faith
and love and reach eternal life.
In the Sacrament of the Eucharist
You give us the joy of sharing Your Life.
Keep us in Your presence.
Let us never be separated from You
and help us to do Your Will.
Amen.
From the altar…
Sermon: Christmas Eve RCL C
The podcast is available here.
A Sunday school teacher was endeavoring to impress upon a class of boys the importance of living the Christian life. “Why do people believe that I’m a Christian?” the man asked. The boys squirmed, but no one answered, so he asked again, “Why do people believe that I’m a Christian?” Finally, Little Johnny raised his hand. “Yes, Johnny. Why do people think I’m a Christian.” Johnny answered,“Maybe it’s because they don’t know you.”
You don’t see it as much anymore, but several years back there was a rather popular message on outdoor church signs: “If you were arrested for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” Would there be any physical evidence, more than just wearing a crucifix or a WWJD bracelet, would there be visible works? Would there be witnesses who would come forward and testify to your life as a Christian? Would your own testimony be enough to convict you? Would there be changed lives in the wake of your passing due to your Christian witness? Or would it be like that Sunday school teacher, once folks got to know you…? To this, all I can say is, “Please don’t put me on the stand!”
Yes, I can pull it off on occasion and I even dress the part, but if you really get to know me… Fr. Klukas was my Liturgics professor in seminary. When you asked him if he would like a cup of coffee, he would always respond, “Yes, please. Black, like my heart.” I take my coffee the same way. So we say with St. Paul, “I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand.… Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” You see, we don’t come to God because we are saints. We come to God because we are those in need of a loving and merciful God, who, in spite of our “coffee” like hearts, desires to draw us to Himself. In return, he asks that we extend to others, both friend and stranger (and even enemy), as much of this same love and mercy as we are able. And we’ll do so in the occasional great works, but most often it will be witnessed in the everyday moments of our lives.
A taxi driver recorded the following event during a day at work: I arrived at the address and signaled. After waiting a few minutes, I beep again. Since this was supposed to be my last passenger, I thought about leaving, but instead I parked the car, went to the door and knocked … “Just a minute,” said a fragile, elderly woman’s voice. I heard something being dragged along the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A little woman of about 90 was standing in front of me. She was wearing a plain dress and a hat with a veil, as if from 1940s films. Next to her was a small suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for many years. All furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no trinkets or dishes on the shelves. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photographs and glassware.
“Would you help me carry the bag to the car?” She asked. I took the suitcase to the car and then came back to help the woman. She took my hand and we slowly walked toward the car.
She continued to thank me for my kindness. “It’s nothing,” I told her, “I just try to treat my passengers the way I want them to treat my mother.”
“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got into the car, she gave me the address and then asked: “Could you go through the center of the city?”
“This is not the shortest route. It’ll be much more expensive,” I replied.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. – “I’m not in a hurry.”
I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes sparkled. “My family left a long time ago,” she continued in a low voice, “The doctor says that I have not very long to go.”
I calmly extended my hand and turned off the meter.
“What route would you like to go?” I asked.
For the next two hours we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the area where she and her husband lived when they were newlyweds. She showed me a furniture warehouse, which was once a dance hall, where she worked as a little girl.
Sometimes she asked me to slow down in front of a specific building or alley and sat staring into the darkness, saying nothing. Then she suddenly said: “I am tired, perhaps we will go now.”
We rode in silence at the address she gave me. It was a low building, something like a small sanatorium, with a driveway along the portico. It was a hospice unit.
Two nurses approached the car as soon as we arrived. They gently helped her out. Must have been waiting for her. I opened the trunk and carried a small suitcase at the door. The woman was already sitting in a wheelchair.
“How much do I owe you?” She asked, reaching for her purse.
“Nothing at all,” I said.
“You have to make a living,” she replied.
“There are other passengers,” I replied.
Almost without thinking, I leaned over and hugged her. She hugged me tightly in response.
“You gave the old lady some happiness,” she said. “Thank you.”
I squeezed her hand and then left. The door closed behind my back, it was the sound of closing another book of life.
The taxi driver asked himself: What if this woman got an angry driver, or one who could not wait to finish his shift? What if I refused to fulfill her request, or, having honked a couple of times, left? What if…
He writes, “In the end, I would like to say that I have not done anything more important in my life.”
Our hearts may be black like coffee, but each day, we try to let a little of the light of God’s love and mercy out into the world.
It is Christmas Eve and you’re probably wondering what all this has to do with the Christ child in the manger.
As I pondered this season of Christmas, I came to the conclusion that Bethlehem is no longer confined to the borders of a small middle-eastern country. Instead, the world is Bethlehem, and the manger… the manger is wherever Christ is born. For the lady on the way to hospice, the manger was a taxi cab, and the Christ child was revealed to her in the person of a cab driver. The world is Bethlehem and perhaps there was no room at the inn, so that you… you… could choose the location of the manger, the place where the Christ child could be born and revealed to the world or to just one person in need of God’s love and mercy.
May we become those who are easily convicted of being God’s people. May the Christ child be born in us each. May we be the bearers of God’s love and mercy into all those we encounter.
Let us pray:
God of love, Father of all,
the darkness that covered the earth
has given way to the bright dawn of your Word made flesh.
Make us a people of this light.
Make us faithful to your Word,
that we may bring your life to the waiting world.
Grant this through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
Sermon: Ember Days
The podcast is available here.
Today, in the liturgical calendar, can be celebrated in one of two ways. The first is a feria, which means “day of rest” or even “holiday.” It is not the feast day of a Saint or a prescribed fast day, and is seen as an extension of the previous Sunday, so the readings for today could be the same as we had for the Third Sunday of Advent.
The second way to celebrate today is that of an Ember Day. Ember Days occur four times a year and are the Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday of a week. They fall after the First Sunday of Lent, the Day of Pentecost, Holy Cross Day, and the Feast of St. Lucy, which just so happens to have been last Thursday. How did these Ember Days come about?
From the Acts of the Apostles, you’ll recall that Paul and Silas went to Athens on a missionary journey. While there, they saw all the various gods that the Greeks worshiped, which greatly distressed them. Given the opportunity to speak, Paul did what he did best. He proclaimed the Gospel message. “Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, To an unknown god.’” He then said, “What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.” The Athenians did not have in mind the One True God when they built that altar, but Paul, instead of instructing them to destroy it, appropriated it for the Kingdom of God. Christianity quite often does this. Takes something that is important to unbelieving cultures and attaches Christian significance to it. The same is true of Ember Days.
Before the faith had spread, the unbelievers throughout Rome worshipped various gods and at certain times of the year would hold festivals to these gods, which were generally based on the lunar cycle. The Church, instead of denouncing the festivities, simply redefined them in Christian terms and they now have become days of fasting and prayer, something of a mini Lent. As they were originally associated with the harvest, they have also now taken on special significance for the harvest of souls and the call to ordained ministry. You can see how that theme of harvest was evident in our Gospel reading: “I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together.”
What does all this mean for us today? We can set these days aside for fasting and prayer, but we can also focus our prayers on the calling of new persons to ordained ministry. There is a constant need for clergy and if someone came along today and said they wanted to be a priest, with all the discernment and study that goes with the process, it would be at least five years before they could be ordained. As Jesus said, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.” Ask the Lord to raise up new clergy to meet the future needs of the church.
Let us pray: God, the source of creation and love, You invite each of us to serve you through the life which is your gift. May your grace encourage men and women to heights of holiness through service to the church as priests, deacons, sisters, brothers, and lay ministers. Make us instruments to encourage others to give of themselves and challenge us each to do the same. Amen.
Sermon: Advent 2 RCL C – “Being Wrong”
The podcast is available here.
I was watching a TED Talk the other day by Kathryn Schulz: On Being Wrong. Shulz is also the author of Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margin of Error, which also reminded me of the time Snoopy was writing a book and Charlie Brown says that he hopes he has a good title, to which Snoopy replies, “I have the perfect title: ‘Has It Ever Occurred to You That You Might Be Wrong?’” — rabbit trail — back to the TED Talk.
At the beginning of the talk, Shulz asked the audience, “How does it feel to be wrong?” As she pointed out, and as we are all very much aware, it doesn’t ever really feel good at all, but she notes, in our own minds, feeling/being wrong, can sometimes also feel right, because we don’t realize we are erring. The example she uses is that classic cartoon, Roadrunner. There is the scene where Wile E. Coyote is chasing the roadrunner, the roadrunner ducks off the path, and coyote just keeps running, eventually running off the edge of a cliff. He was wrong, but in that moment, he still believed he was right.
The next question Shulz asked the audience was, “How does it feel to realize you are wrong?” You might be wrong, but unaware? How does it feel when you become aware? The answer for coyote arrives when he looks down. He is running across the thin air, then he looks down, and realizes he is wrong. He was wrong, he realizes is wrong, and he falls. What happens in the next episode? The exact same thing.
Today in our Gospel reading, John the Baptist comes on the scene, “Proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Why? Because the Israelites have once again run off the cliff. They believed they were right, even though they were wrong. It was only when John called out to them to repent, that some of them realized they were wrong.
One interesting point about John’s message, is that many, if not most, of the Old Testament prophets called all the people, the entire nation of Israel to repentance, but John had a tendency to speak to the individual, it’s how he got himself into trouble when he called out Herod for his marriage to his brother’s ex-wife. When the crowds came to be baptized by him, they asked, “What should we do?” The same with the tax collectors and the soldiers, each group, realizing they were wrong, wanted to know how they were to live rightly. The fact that John would baptize them after they repented points to the seriousness of their transgressions.
We often believe that baptism is strictly a Christian practice, but the Jewish people used this practice of spiritual washing as well. One reason for them to be baptized was for touching something that was dead. There were several steps to becoming clean from such an act, but full immersion baptism was part of it. In addition, the new convert to Judaism had to be baptized, in a sense, making them like a new born child. Perhaps John, through the baptism of repentance, was saying to the people: you are like someone who has touched death, or you are like someone who is outside the Covenant that God made with His people; therefore, repent of your sin and be baptized, for the Lord your God is coming.
The Israelites had forgotten how God had called them out of Egypt to be for him a holy people, so now John was calling them to repentance, one more time, because now God was coming, and He was coming to make a personal invitation to that life of holiness.
So… How does it feel for you to be wrong? How does it feel for you to realize you’re wrong? What is it like to suddenly realize you’ve run off the side of the cliff? Why did you run off in the first place?
Nine-year-old Braun lived in a little village not far from London. Braun’s parents were agnostics, but they felt that at least once in his life, he ought to go to church. So they dressed him up in his little black suit and black bow tie and asked the governess to take him.
That Sunday, the parson preached about the crucifixion of a Man. He described the nails driven through the Man’s hands, the crown of thorns jammed upon His head, the blood that ran down His face, and the spear that ripped into His side. He described the agony in His eyes and the sorrow in His voice when He prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”
Halfway through the sermon, little Braun was crying. Wouldn’t somebody do something? Wouldn’t the congregation rise up together and take the Man down from the cross? But as he looked around in astonished surprise, he saw that the people were complacent. “What’s the matter with these people, Nanny?” he asked. “Why doesn’t somebody do something about that Man on the cross?”
Patting Braun on the shoulder, his nanny nervously whispered in reply, “Braun, Braun, be quiet. It’s just a story. Don’t let it trouble you. Just listen quietly. You’ll soon forget about this old story when we go home.”
What is it like to realize that your wrong, that you’ve just run off the side of the cliff? Why did we do it in the first place? We do it because we have forgotten about that old story. We forgot about how God saved us, so we became like someone who has touched death, or like someone who is outside the New Covenant that God made with His people. We forgot that God called us to a life of righteousness.
It is tough being wrong and like the Israelites, we sometimes need someone to point out the error or our ways, so imagine standing out in the wilderness with the Israelites. John has been calling out everyone, but so far, you’ve managed to dodge his wrath. You begin to think that maybe you are one of the few that hasn’t been wrong. You look around at the crowd and say to yourself, “I sure am glad I’m not like the rest of these poor schmucks!” But then you look back up and John is staring directly at you. He points at you and he begins to speak. What does he say? What does he call you out on?
The Apostle John writes, “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” The Psalmist writes, “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.”
Today is the Second Sunday of Advent, and as we said last week, “advent” means coming, and “coming” implies waiting. During this time of waiting, repent of your sins and be forgiven, cleansed, washed, be made whiter than snow in the sight of our God, so that on the day he returns, you will be made to stand with him and all the other sons and daughters of our God.
Let us pray: Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Sermon: Francis Xavier
The podcast is available here.
When we begin to ask, who was the greatest missionary ever, the answer for all is St. Paul. When asked who is second, for most, the answer is the Patron Saint of our neighbors across the street: St. Francis Xavier (d.1552). He is known as the “Apostle of the Indies” and the “Apostle of Japan.” As he is the Patron of neighbors across the street, I thought it important we know a little about him.
Francis grew up in the Basque region of Spain, the son of a wealthy aristocrat. He intended to go off to school and make a name for himself as an academic, but while at school, he had Peter Faber as a roommate and Peter had a friend, Íñigo López, that was introduced to Francis. Francis cared little for López, but eventually was convinced by Peter to take part in a set of Spiritual Exercises that had been developed by López. Once completed, Francis’ life would never be the same. From there, St. Francis Xavier, Peter Faber (now St. Peter Faber), and Íñigo López (now St. Ignatius of Loyola) would go on to form the Society of Jesus, the Jesuits.
Following a thirteen month sea voyage from Portugal to western India, Francis began the great work. He did so by first learning the language and gaining the people’s trust by serving as a nurse in a local hospital. Then, dressed as one of the poor of the community, he would walk the streets of the city, ringing a small bell. The children and people would be interested in what he was doing, so they would follow him around until he had a large enough crowd and would stop. Then, in their own language, he would proclaim the Gospel message to them. He and his little bell took Christianity all across southern India and then to Japan. He died on a beach in China, while attempting to take the Gospel there.
We often think we need great education, schemes and plans to proclaim the Gospel message, but Francis Xavier proves to us that all that is really needed is relationship and the willingness to bear witness to the hope that is within us. Go. Go find a few friends, ring a little bell, and see what a great Apostle you can be.
St. Francis Xavier wrote a beautiful hymn, My God, I Love You. A translation of his words prove to be just as beautiful prayer as they are a hymn. Let us pray:
My God, I love You; not because I hope for heaven,
Nor because those who do not love You are lost eternally.
You, my Jesus, You embraced me upon the cross;
For me You bore the nails, and spear, and manifold disgrace,
And griefs and torments numberless, and sweat of agony;
Yes, death itself; and all for me who was Your enemy.
Then why, Blessed Jesus Christ, should I not love You well?
Not for the sake of winning heaven, nor of escaping hell;
Not from the hope of gaining anything, not seeking a reward;
But as You have loved me, O ever-loving Lord.
So would I love You, dearest Lord, and in Your praise will sing;
Solely because You are my God, and my most loving King. Amen.
Candle in a Cave 