Sermon: Epiphany 5 RCL C – “Words”



The podcast is available here.

A lawyer had a wife and twelve children and needed to move as his rental agreement was coming to an end for the home where he lived, however he was having a difficult finding a new home.
 
When he said he had twelve children, no one would rent to him because they were afraid that with so many children the home would be destroyed. He could not say that he had no children, he could not lie, after all, lawyers cannot and do not lie.
 
So, he had an idea. He sent his wife for a walk to the cemetery with eleven of his children. He then took the remaining one child with him to see homes with the Real Estate Agent.
 
He liked one of the homes and the agent asked, “How many children do you have?”
 
He answered, “Twelve.”
 
The agent asked “Where are the other eleven?”
 
With a sad look, the Lawyer answered, “They are in the cemetery with their mother.”
 
And that’s the way he was able to rent a home for his family without lying.

Nathaniel Hawthorne writes, “Words—so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become, in the hands of one who knows how to combine them!”

I want to talk about one particular word: if, but before I get there, I have to give you the backstory and why this word is important to us.

John’s Gospel seems to indicate to us that Jesus, walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, saw Peter, and called him, to which Peter dropped everything and followed Jesus. However, Luke provides us with a good bit more detail of their meeting.

We know that Jesus was going from place to place preaching in the various synagogues and at some point he came to the synagogue in Capernaum. Peter was from Bethsaida, but he lived in Capernaum, and given that he was Jewish, it is very likely that he attended the synagogue there (at the time there was only one). Given that Jesus will very soon go and stay at Peter’s house, it stands to reason that Peter would have heard Jesus preaching in the synagogue and would have witnessed the healings and the casting out of demons—which came out screaming at Jesus, “You are the Son of God.”— that Jesus was accomplishing.

Leaving the synagogue, Jesus then goes to Simon Peter’s house where he healed Peter’s mother-in-law (I’m sorry, I can’t help myself: Why did Peter deny Jesus three times? Because Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in-law. Moving on….). That night, while at Peter’s house, many more were brought to Jesus and were healed. Again, Peter was witness to all these things. Later that night Jesus goes off to a quiet place to pray, but the people find him and want him to continue performing miracles so they try and hold him, but Jesus says, “I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose.” He leaves, and scripture says, “He continued proclaiming the message in the synagogues of Judea.” This is where our Gospel reading picks up. We don’t know how much time has passed, but Jesus is clearly walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee near Capernaum, because Peter and his fishing crew are there on the beach tending their nets after having fished all night.

The people, learning that Jesus was there begin to gather, so much so that he is unable to speak to them properly. To solve the problem, Jesus used Peter’s boat to go a short ways from shore and then began to teach. That sounds a bit unusual, but near Capernaum, there are a number of small inlets that form these perfect amphitheaters, so it would have been possible for Jesus, a short ways from the shore, to have been heard by everyone present, even while speaking in a normal voice. After teaching, he tells Peter to go out to the deep water and cast the nets. Peter’s response, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” And there’s our word: if. “Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”

I don’t know how many times I’ve preached on this text, but I’ve always interpreted this text and read that “if” in the same way. How does that look? Peter is saying, Look, Jesus, you don’t know anything about fishing. I do. My father was a fisherman and my father’s father was a fishermen. In fact, we’re fisherman all the way back to Adam, so you really don’t know what the heck you’re talking about, but look—he’s almost whining at this point, because he’s tired and he wants to go home, put his feet up, and have a nice kosher brewsky—if you want us to go out again, we’ll go out, but preacher man, its pointless. However, after spending some more time with this text, I think that is an entirely inaccurate picture. And you know what? I’ma tell you why.

Peter has heard Jesus preach. Peter witnessed first hand the healing of his mother-in-law. Peter saw many other healings and heard the demons coming out shrieking, “You are the Son of God.” Peter did not say, “Hey, preacher man, you ain’t no fisherman and you don’t have a clue what you’re asking.” So, what did Peter mean when he said, “Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” For starters, and it is curious, but the version of the Bible we use for our readings, NRSV—New Revised Standard Version—is about the only version that includes that “if.” And, if you go back and look at the original Greek, it is not there. Instead, most of the other versions say, “At your word I will let down the nets.” Maybe this is just me being tedious this week, but for me, there is a heck of a difference between, “If you say so” and “At your word.” If, to me, implies contingencies, options, a way out. Not only that, it also suggests that you begrudge the one asking. “At your word” implies great faith in the one who is giving instruction. For Peter, “At your word,” says, I have heard the preaching and seen the miracles, there is no doubt, and the great catch of fish was the final piece to Peter not only having faith in Jesus, but beginning to truly understand what he would later be able to confess and articulate: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”

Now, again, you may think I’m making a big deal out of one little word, but here’s the thing, I think we like the word “if.” Why? For the same reasons I stated a moment ago. “If” gives us contingencies, options, a way out, and at times, it can state our displeasure at being asked.

I told you a few weeks back that my superhero would be Roland Deschain from Stephen King’s Dark Tower series. At one point in book five, Roland is making plans with Father Callahan. Roland asked if Father Callahan thought the plan would work. Callahan responded, “Mayhap. If all goes well.” Roland’s response, “If… An old teacher of mine used to call it the only word a thousand letters long.”

Jesus asks us to do things—whatever they may be—in the same manner that he asked Peter, and we can say to Jesus, “If you say so,” and in saying that, we are conveying a clear message, I’m keeping my options open in the event I need a way out, and oh, by the way, I’m not too pleased with being asked. But, now, try it the other way: Jesus asks you do do something and you respond, “At your word,” and without hesitation you act. Through your faith in the one speaking to you, you do not need options or a way out, and through your love and obedience to your Savior, you respond to his request.

Like Peter, you have heard the teachings of Jesus and you have witnessed the miracles in lives changed. When he comes to you, he is not a stranger, he is the bridegroom approaching the bride, and he knows you just as intimately. When he asks, whatever he asks, say to him, “At your word I will do as you ask.”

The Lord declares:
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven
    and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
    giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
    it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
    and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”

We are the instruments of his hand, and through his word and our actions, his works are accomplished.

Let us pray: We adore You, O God, present in the holy Eucharist, as our Creator, our Preserver, and our Redeemer. We offer You all that we have, all that we are, and all that depends on us; we offer You our minds to think of You, our hearts to love You; our wills to serve You; our bodies to labour and suffer for Your love. We are Yours, we give ourselves; we consecrate ourselves to You, We abandon ourselves to You, we wish to live and die for love of You. Amen.

Sermon: Proper 15 RCL A – “Broken”

The podcast can be found here.


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A man observed a woman in the grocery store with a toddler-aged girl in her shopping cart. As they passed the cookie section, the little girl asked for cookies, and her mother told her no. The little girl immediately began to whine and fuss, and the mother whispered: “Now Monica, we just have half of the aisles left to go through — don’t be upset. It won’t be long.”

Soon, they came to the sweets aisle, and the little girl began to shout for chocolate. When told she couldn’t have any, she began to cry.

The mother murmured: “There, there, Monica, don’t cry — only two more aisles to go and then we’ll be checking out.”

When they got to the checkout stand, the little girl immediately began to clamor for lollipops and burst into a terrible tantrum upon discovering there’d be none purchased. The mother patiently said: “Monica, we’ll be through this checkout stand in 5 minutes, and then you can go home and have a nice nap.”

The man was very impressed with the woman’s handling of the situations and followed them out to the car park and stopped her to compliment her, “I couldn’t help noticing how patient you were with little Monica.”

The mother sighed and replied: “Oh, no. My little girl’s name is Tammy… I’m Monica.”

I am willing to wager that if I ask each of you how you are doing, almost all of you will respond with, ‘fine’, ‘good’, or the equivalent.  We must maintain the illusion that we are in control, have it together, and that our lives are beautiful.  Social media is great at helping us to perpetuate this illusion.  I’m happy to post a picture of my beautiful meal at the sushi bar, but for every one beautiful meal I’ve eaten there could probably be 50 pictures of me eating a can of sardines from the can while standing at the kitchen sink.  The same is true with life.  I’ll tell you all about the fun things I do, but I’m not likely to confess that I spent Thursday night binge watching “Friends” until 2:00 in the morning.  And, when it comes to my life with God, I would like for you to believe that I’m dang near a Saint, but the truth is, I’m stumbling along with everyone else.  On the outside, everything is calm.  On the inside, things can be a bit frazzled and all I want to do is go home and take a nap.  Even so, I must maintain the image.  Never showing the cracks.

Not only do I want to perpetuate this image of control in my life, but I also want to maintain the illusion of control in my own mind.    I’m important.  Just ask me!  I’m making things happen.  Brother got game.

“It matters not how strait the gate, 
How charged with punishments the scroll. 
I am the master of my fate: 
I am the captain of my soul.” (Source)

And everybody shouts, “Hoorah!”  And we continue to shout ‘Hoorah,’ until things begin to fall apart and the center does not hold.  It is then that we are baffled, at a loss as to how it could have happened.  We had everything under control and then… smoke.  We look for someone or something to blame.  We look for answers outside of ourselves, but the source of the fall is most often within.

These past few weeks, we have been reading the ‘bread of life’ / ‘bread of Heaven’ passage from John’s Gospel.  We looked at how we must place our lives on the paten with Jesus, but that in doing so, we are not simply relying on a memory of Jesus or only the words in the Bible.  Instead when we place our lives on the paten, we are joining with the real presence of Christ.  It is there, on the paten that we are united with Him and become one with Him as He and the Father are one, but we are not yet done.  You see, now that we have been united with Him, something terrible and awesome must occur.  We now must be broken with Him.  We must take our lives, all that we want to control, and allow it to be broken with Christ upon the altar of the Cross.  We, like Christ, in surrendering our lives into the hands of the Father, must, also like Christ, allow our lives, our will, our control, to be broken.  And there the conflict arises, because that part of us that desires to so tightly control our lives, refuses to submit to the Father.  Why do we refuse?  Because we wrongly believe that all will be lost.  That the Lord will take what we give him and what we receive back will be unrecognizable and useless, but nothing could be further from the truth.

It is one of those things many of you have probably seen and heard about, but it perfectly illustrates this point: kintsugi.  Kintsugi is a Japanese word meaning the ‘golden journey,’ and it is an art form of repairing broken pots.

You have one of granma’s heirloom dishes.  Perhaps it is not of great monetary value, but it is precious to you.  You’ve moved all over the country and each time you’ve carefully packed up this one particular dish, always anxious to determine if it made the latest journey.  All is well, but then one day, the cat jumps on the counter knocking if off.  You cry over the pieces, but eventually throw them away.  However, in Japan, an heirloom wouldn’t necessarily be thrown out, instead it would be made new.

kintsugi-768x562An artist takes the pieces of your broken dish and glues them back together with a special lacquer, which is then covered with gold.  The cracks are visible, but they’ve been transformed into these paths of gold, traversing the dish.  Now, not only has granma’s dish been restored to you, but it is now far more valuable and beautiful, a true work of art.

In the same way, when we allow our lives to be broken upon the altar of the cross, God takes the pieces and restores them, bonding our lives to His, making us far more valuable and beautiful than we could have ever imagined or accomplished on our own.  We are remade into a work of art in His image.  Sounds nice and easy, but as a Christian, it is one of the most difficult things we will do.

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis was first published in 1945.  I won’t give it away, but the main character finds himself in a place called the Grey Town.  From there he is taken on a bus with several others until they have an encounter with the Spirits who try and convince these individuals to come with them up the Mountain.  It is all an analogy.  Very simply put, Grey Town is hell, the space around it is purgatory, and the Mountain is heaven.  The Spirits are trying to convince those on the bus to take the journey up the mountain to heaven, but one by one, they make their excuses.  They want to maintain control, dictate the rules.  They refuse to submit.  One traveller is asked:

“Will you come with me to the mountains? It will hurt at first, until your feet are hardened. Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. But will you come?”

“Well, that is a plan. I am perfectly ready to consider it. Of course I should require some assurances … I should want a guarantee that you are taking me to a place where I shall find a wider sphere of usefulness-and scope for the talents that God has given me-and an atmosphere of free inquiry-in short, all that one means by civilization and-er-the spiritual life.”

“No,” said the [Spirit]. “I can promise you none of these things. No sphere of usefulness: you are not needed there at all. No scope for your talents: only forgiveness for having perverted them. No atmosphere of inquiry, for I will bring you to the land not of questions but of answers, and you shall see the face of God.”

“Will you come with me to the mountains?” is another way of asking, will you be broken upon the altar of the Cross?  Will you submit your life to God?

St. Paul writes, “I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’” (1 Cor 11:23-24)

Will you go up the mountain with him?  Will you give up control?  Will you submit to the Lord?   Will you be broken with Jesus that you might be made new?  

“Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.”  (Matthew 6:33)

Let us pray: Loving Father, faith in Your Word is the way to wisdom. Help us to think about Your Divine Plan that we may grow in the truth. Open our eyes to Your deeds, our ears to the sound of Your call, so that all our actions may help us share in the life of Jesus. Give us the grace to live the example of the love of Jesus, which we celebrate in the Eucharist and see in the Gospel. Form in us the likeness of Your Son and deepen His Life within ours.  Amen.

Sermon: Christmas 1 RCL B – “New Beginning”

The podcast can be found here.


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The Top 10 New Years Resolutions that I should actually be able to keep:

  1. Stop exercising. Waste of time.
  2. I want to gain weight. Put on at least 30 pounds.
  3. Read less.
  4. Watch more TV. I’ve been missing some good stuff.
  5. Procrastinate more.
  6. I will no longer waste my time reliving the past, instead I will spend it worrying about the future.
  7. Stop buying worthless junk on Ebay, because QVC has better specials.
  8. Stop bringing lunch from home: I should eat out more.
  9. Take up a new habit: maybe smoking!
  10. I will do less laundry and use more deodorant.

As I’m sure you have, I have thought long and hard about my resolutions for the coming year. I have three: 1) Next year at this time, I will look like one of those shirtless fellas on the cover of a romance novel. 2) Next year at this time, I will have doubled the size of this congregation. 3) Next year at this time, I will be like one of those great saints of God who were so focused in their prayers, that they had to be dragged away from the blessed sacrament and reminded to eat. Next year at this time, I will not be, nor will I have accomplished any of the above.

Here we are. One week after celebrating the birth of our Savior, and we’re already setting ourselves up for failure. Hoorah! What idiot came up with this disillusioning ritual? And why do we walk into it every year with our eyes wide open?

Asking someone what their New Year’s resolution is is akin to asking someone what they’re giving up for Lent. So often, both are only exercises in will power. Will I go to the gym enough times and eat right so that I come out in twelve months looking like Fabio? Will I be in prayer so much that I have callouses on my knees? If so many of these resolutions end in failure, then why do we persist?

Brother Isaac Augustine Morales, O.P. (Dominican) discussed this in an article. He writes, “At the root of the practice of New Year’s resolutions is a dissatisfaction with who we are. Though there are certainly unhealthy kinds of dissatisfaction, in and of itself dissatisfaction is not a bad thing. Only the most arrogant person lacking even an ounce of self-knowledge would actually believe that he has no room for improvement. Making resolutions reminds us that we are not finished products—and breaking them makes this even more obvious.”

The resolution reminds us that we are a work in progress, however, Morales goes on to ask, “But what’s the point of resolutions if we’re fairly certain we’re not going to keep them? Is there anything to be gained by them?” (source) For me, I am very well aware of the fact that I need improvement, so why go through the exercise?

In his autobiography, Benjamin Franklin writes about a particular project: “I conceiv’d the bold and arduous Project of arriving at moral Perfection. I wish’d to live without committing any Fault at any time; I would conquer all that either Natural Inclination, Custom, or Company might lead me into.” The project included thirteen virtues that he intended to focus on, such as: temperance, moderation, and frugality. (Originally it had only twelve, but a Quaker friend pointed out to him that he seemed prideful to many, so Franklin added “Humility,” the description of which was, “Imitate Jesus and Socrates.”) He made a book with a grid system, setup in thirteen weeks. Each week he would focus solely on one of the virtues and for every time he failed at keeping the virtue, he would make a small dot on the page. He noted in his autobiography, “I was surpris’d to find myself so much fuller of Faults than I had imagined, but I had the Satisfaction of seeing them diminish.” He did see improvements, but there were still failures, so much so, that he had intended to reuse the little book, but over time, the pages had holes in them from the number of dots he had to erase.

What’s the point of resolutions? What is to be gained? Brother Morales writes, “Perhaps the most important thing about resolutions is not following through with them perfectly, but rather the determination to start over every time we fail.”

Star Wars: Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back: Luke Skywalker has been training with Yoda. Yoda gives Luke what appears to be an impossible task. Luke does not believe he can do it, but eventually concedes and says, “All right, I’ll give it a try.” Yoda responds: “Do… or do not. There is no try.”

Another great movie—Elizabeth: the Golden Age: the Spanish Armada is on the way. Elizabeth and her troops gathered at Tilbury. Elizabeth rallies the troops by saying to them, “My loving people. We see the sails of the enemy approaching. We hear the Spanish guns over the water. Soon now, we will meet them face-to-face. I am resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all. While we stand together no invader shall pass. Let them come with the armies of Hell; they will not pass! And when this day of battle is ended, we meet again in heaven or on the field of victory.” Do… or do not. There is no try.

If, along the way, you should fail, then remember that no one can take away your birthday and then recall the words from Proverbs: “Though [the righteous] fall seven times, they will rise again.” (Proverbs 24:16) On the day that you fail, make another firm resolution to get up, erase the marks from the page, and begin again.

This same principle holds true in our walk with Christ. The fact that we say “The Confession” each week should be a clear indicator of that one. We get down on our knees and we confess our sins and repent of any wrong doing. We hear the words of absolution and receive the forgiveness and grace that comes from God. We go to one another, extending the hand of peace to those we love and those we have injured or offended and to those who have injured or offended us. And then we go out into the world, fully intending, fully resolving to live in holiness and righteousness all the days of our lives, but no sooner have we driven out the parking lot—if we even make it that far—and we find ourselves once again stumbling. Falling. The light of God shines into the darkness of our lives, exposing every blemish. And it is then that we have two options: remain face down in the dust or get to our knees and begin again. Do… or do not. There is no try.

With that in mind, what are my resolutions for 2018?

Next year at this time, I really would like to look like one of those shirtless fellas on the cover of a romance novel – at least have a little of their hair – but the truth is, unless I can take a pill for it, its not going to happen, because I’m not really all that interested in looking like one of the shirtless fellas on the cover of a romance novels. That said, I am interested in my collars not being so tight. I resolve to work on that one.

Next year at this time, I would like for our church to have doubled in attendance so that we have to start figuring out where to put everybody, but the truth is, we can add numbers, but not depth. We can be a church that is a mile wide and an inch deep. That said, instead of chasing some number, I resolve to chase souls. To reach as many as the Lord places before me with the Good News of His Son, Jesus. I resolve to work on that one.

Next year at this time, I would like to be like one of those great saints of prayer, who spent so much time praying before the blessed sacrament, that they had to be pulled away and reminded that they needed to eat, but the truth is, I’m not that obedient and I’m great at finding other things to keep me “busy.” That said, I resolve to spend some time each day in sincere prayer, seeking my God, and hoping to draw at least one step closer to Him. I resolve to work on that one, too.

To this list, I will add one more resolution. A resolution for me as your priest. Saint Paul said it in his first letter to the Corinthians: I resolve to know nothing while among you except Christ Jesus, and him crucified. (cf. 1 Cor. 2:2)

Whatever your resolutions may be, resolve to love God more and to love your neighbor more. When you fail at either, get to your knees and begin again.

The following is a prayer by Francis Brienen, a minister in the Reformed Church. Let us pray:

God of all time,
who makes all things new,
we bring before you the year now ending.
For life full and good,
for opportunities recognized and taken,
for love known and shared,
we thank you.

Where we have fallen short,
forgive us.
When we worry over what is past,
free us.

As we begin again
and take our first steps into the future,
where nothing is safe and certain,
except you,
we ask for the courage of the wise men
who simply went and followed a star.
We ask for their wisdom,
in choosing to pursue the deepest truth,
not knowing where they would be led.
In the year to come, God of all time,
be our help and company.
Hold our hands as we journey onwards
and may your dream of shalom,
where all will be at peace,
be our guiding star. (source)

Amen.

 

 

Sermon: Alfred the Great

The podcast can be found here.


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“Live your life in such a manner that the priest won’t have to lie at your funeral.” Ever wonder what someone might write or say about your life once you are gone? If it would be something your proud of or something that would cause you to bury your head deeper than six feet down? Perhaps a more comforting way to think about it is to ask: what would you like for them to say or write? When we’ve entered the Heavenly Kingdom, I don’t know that we’ll really care what people say or think, but it would be nice to know that you would be remembered fondly. Continue reading “Sermon: Alfred the Great”

Sermon: Proper 18 RCL A – “Two or Three or More”

The podcast of this sermon can be found here.


A crowd of individuals can be a very fickle creature. It begins with each of us doing our own thing, but when we come together, we no longer pursue what makes us different, but what makes us alike. Given the right motivation, we will do what is necessary to be like everyone else and do what everyone else is doing. For example, take the wave at a football game, when 1,000s will go round and round the stadium, raising their hands and cheering.

Two physicist spent a summer studying this phenomenon. Perhaps it would be better to say, two bored physicists or two government funded physicists spent the summer studying the wave at sporting events. They reported, “The reason why we got interested in stadium waves was that people, apparently, very often behave like particles.” They say that in participating in the wave, we act like matter. Interesting points about a wave: in order for it to be sustainable, it must span from the top to the bottom of the stadium, it travels at about 20 seats per second, requires only 20 to 30 individuals to start a stadium of 50,000 moving, and typically the waves run clockwise. The primary factor though, in getting one started, is timing, when the mood is ripe. If it is an intense moment during the game, all you’re going to do in trying to start a wave is anger the people around you, but in times of celebration or even better, boredom, your chances of success increase considerably. So, like matter, given the right circumstances, a very small catalyst can start a very large reaction and get things moving. (source) Which, when applied to how individuals respond in a crowd, tells us that even if you’re sitting there trying to enjoy your supper with a beer in one hand, hotdog in the other, and some peanuts balanced on your knee, you’re still going to attempt to pop up when the wave comes to you, so that you can be like everyone else. Continue reading “Sermon: Proper 18 RCL A – “Two or Three or More””

Sermon: Proper 16 RCL A – “Mistaken Identity”

The podcast for this sermon can be found here.


An old cowboy named Bud was overseeing his livestock in a remote mountainous pasture in California when a fella in a fancy car comes skidding up. He gets out and is wearing this outlandish high fashion getup, a Rolex, with his hair slicked back, and a California tan – the works. When he opens his mouth, he’s clearly from “back east.”

Coming over to Bud he asked, “If I tell you exactly how many cows you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?”

Bud sized up the fella another moment then agrees, “Sure, why not?”

The guy pulls out is iPad and iPhone, makes a call, and ask for a photo from a satellite above. Once received he runs it through some computer analysis and has it count the number of animals on the ranch. After a few minutes, he turns to Bud and says, “You have exactly 1,562 cows in your herd.”

“That’s right, pardner,” replied the old cowhand. “Well, I guess I owe you a calf. Pick one out.”

The fellas looks over the herd, picks one out and then proceeds to cram it in the backseat of his car.

Bud interrupts this process. “Listen. If I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?”

“Why not?”

“You’re a U.S. Congressman.”

The man is shocked. “Yeah, how’d you guess that?” Continue reading “Sermon: Proper 16 RCL A – “Mistaken Identity””

Sermon: Saint Mary the Virgin

Listen to the podcast of this sermon at Podomatic : 

C.S. Lewis summed up a very Anglican perspective of the Virgin Mary in the preface to Mere Christianity (it’s a bit wordy and a bit heady): “There is no controversy between Christians which needs to be so delicately touched as this [that is, the question of Blessed Virgin Mary]. The Roman Catholic beliefs on that subject are held not only with the ordinary fervour that attaches to all sincere religious belief, but (very naturally) with the peculiar and, as it were, chivalrous sensibility that a man feels when the honour of his mother or his beloved is at stake. It is very difficult so to dissent from them that you will not appear to them a cad as well as a heretic. And contrariwise, the opposed Protestant beliefs on this subject call forth feelings which go down to the very roots of all Monotheism whatever. To radical Protestants Continue reading “Sermon: Saint Mary the Virgin”

Sermon: The Day of Pentecost RCL A – “Drink Deeply”

In The Wounded Healer, Henri Nouwen retells a tale from ancient India: Four royal brothers decided each to master a special ability. Time went by, and the brothers met to reveal what they had learned.

“I have mastered a science,” said the first, “by which I can take but a bone of some creature and create the flesh that goes with it.”

“I,” said the second, “know how to grow that creature’s skin and hair if there is flesh on its bones.”

The third said, “I am able to create its limbs if I have flesh, the skin, and the hair.”

“And I,” concluded the fourth, “know how to give life to that creature if its form is complete.” Continue reading “Sermon: The Day of Pentecost RCL A – “Drink Deeply””

Sermon: John of the Cross

Born into a destitute family in 1542, John of the Cross knew what it meant to rely solely on God. Later he would join the Carmelite order and later come in to contact with another great mystic, Teresa of Avila. Teresa had a desire to reform the order and recruited John to help, but when the monks in his monastery discovered what he was up to, they kidnapped him, locked him in cell, and beat him three times a week for nine months, until he was able to escape. For many, that would have driven them from God, but for John, it drove him closer, so that he understood that we should seek to separate ourselves from everything – both good and evil – so that we might find union with God.

In the Ascent of Mt. Carmel, John writes, “The soul that is attached to anything however much good there may be in it, will not arrive at the liberty of divine union. For whether it be a strong wire rope or a slender and delicate thread that holds the bird, it matters not, if it really holds it fast; for, until the cord be broken the bird cannot fly.” Continue reading “Sermon: John of the Cross”