Tag: Ash Wednesday

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Sermon: Ash Wednesday RCL C – “Sphragis”

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A man opened a zoo filled with the most amazing animals the world had ever seen, charging $300 per person for admission. However, nobody came, so he reduced the price to $200 per person. Still, there were no takers. This continued until he lowered the price to $10 per person, and when no one showed up, even then, he made entry free. On that day, the zoo was jammed with people. The man then locked the gates, let loose the lions, and charged a $500 exit fee. Everyone paid.

As I read that story, I thought, “That’s the way of the darker side of the world—placing all these temptations out there, enticing us with all sorts of tricks, and then locking us in with all the evil we’ve so often brought upon ourselves.” As St. Peter said in his First Epistle, “Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8) 

How are we to fight such a formidable adversary?

In the ancient world, a shepherd would place a sphragis, a mark or brand, on his sheep. This sphragis was a sign to all that not only was a sheep that was marked the property of the shepherd but also one who was under the shepherd’s protection.

The early Church Fathers took this understanding of the sphragis and applied it to our Baptism and the sealing we receive when we are Chrismated at either Baptism or Confirmation. Chrismation is the signing of the cross on the forehead with the holy oil, and whether the words are said or not, the result is the same: “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own for ever.” 

You have received the sphragis of Christ. You are His, but like a shepherd and the sheep, this does not imply you are His, as though you were a slave. It means you are His, and He will watch over you and care for you. He will lead you to green pastures and still waters. He will revive your soul. In short, it means He loves you.

Writing in the 4th century, St. Gregory Nazianzen says, “If you fortify yourself with the sphragis, and secure yourself for the future with the best and strongest of all aids, being signed both in body and in soul with the anointing… what then can happen to you and what has been worked out for you? … This, even while you live, will greatly contribute to your sense of safety. For a sheep that is sealed is not easily snared, but that which is unmarked is an easy prey to thieves.” (The Sign of the Cross: Recovering the Power of the Ancient Prayer, p.47)

We have been sealed as one of Christ’s own forever, so when the darker side of the world locks the gates and sets loose the lions, we have One, the Good Shepherd, who will be with us. However, even though Christ’s sphragis is placed upon us, we still have a responsibility. St. Paul tells us, “God’s firm foundation stands, bearing [this sphragis]/this seal: ‘The Lord knows those who are his,’ and, ‘Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity.’” 

We are under the Lord’s protection, but let us avoid putting ourselves deliberately in the lion’s mouth.

The ashes you receive today are a sign of penance and a reminder of where we are all headed—“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” The ashes remind us that we have sinned and that the penalty for sin is death. However, through our faith in Jesus, the ashes and what they represent wash away, and all that remains is Christ’s sphragis, His seal upon our bodies and souls.

During this Season of Lent, set yourself aside and submit to the Shepherd of your soul. Allow Him the opportunity to lead you into the safety of His pastures.

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Sermon: Ash Wednesday RCL B – “A Pleasure to Burn”

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If you’re wondering how to greet someone on this combination of Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday, simply say, “Happy Valentine’s Day; you’re going to die.”

One of the great dystopian novels is Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. The opening paragraphs set the scene.

“It was a pleasure to burn.

“It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed. With the brass nozzle in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history. With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his stolid head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next… Montag grinned the fierce grin of all men singed and driven back by flame.” (p.1 & 2)

We later learn that 451 degrees Fahrenheit is the ignition point of paper—the temperature it begins to burn—and Montag likes to burn books. I won’t spoil the story. Besides, my focus today isn’t on the burning; it is on the result. These last few weeks, as I was thinking on today, I kept returning to the ashes and that one line: “It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed.”

You may have noticed a few things have changed as you walked into the church today. The mood is more somber, the colors have changed, candles are missing, there are no flowers, and the crosses are covered. It is as though a fire came through and ate these things. The ash already swept away, leaving only the bones, the basics. For our souls and bodies, Lent is to be the same.

Bishop N.T. Wright says, “Lent is a time for discipline, for confession, for honesty, not because God is mean or fault-finding or finger-pointing but because he wants us to know the joy of being cleaned out, ready for all the good things he now has in store.” Lent is a time of being cleaned out of all the extraneous in our lives that separates us from God and doing so with the right spirit—the right attitude. What does that mean? From Fahrenheit 451, Montag says, “It was a pleasure to burn,” we say, “Oh, woe is me… I have to give up chocolate.” 

During these days of Lent, we see those things that we abstain from as burdens and trials, but what if, like Montag, we say, “It is a pleasure to burn. It is a pleasure to rid these things of my life so that I will have more to give to God.”

I’ll give up time looking at social media or watching TV and dedicate that time to looking at God—seeking Him in His Holy Temple. I’ll set aside an attitude of bitterness or anger and replace it with thanksgivings for my many blessings. I’ll seek to remove something that is unholy or harmful to my life and replace it with divine practices. I will burn these things, and not only will I burn them, but I will find joy in the burning because I know that each cleansing spiritual fire that I light removes another barrier between me and my God.

During this Season of Lent, I invite you to set fires in your soul and find pleasure in the burning. Find pleasure in drawing nearer to your God.

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Sermon: Ash Wednesday

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The day before Ash Wednesday brings to an end the parades of Mardi Gras (French for ‘Fat Tuesday). Those celebrations likely have their history in some of the pagan festivals of Europe, but when those festivals came to France, they became more closely related to the Church. When they went to England, they became Shrove Tuesday or Pancake Day. Here, at St. Matthew’s, we get the best of both—and now that we’ve done it two years in a row, making it a time-honored tradition—we’ll have to call it Gumbo Day. When these festivals traveled south to the Caribbean and further into Brazil, they became known as Carnivale. Of all the names given, this one perhaps describes it best.

The word carnival comes from the combining of two Latin words: carnem (“flesh”) + levāre (“lighten, raise”)—carnem vale meaning, “Farewell to the flesh.” Farewell to those things that separate us from God. It is this definition that inspired Thomas Merton, in 1953, to write in his journal: 

Carnivale, farewell to the flesh. It is a poor joke to be merry about leaving the flesh, as if we were to return to it once again. What would be the good of Lent, if it were only temporary?

Jesus nevertheless died in order to return to His flesh; in order to raise His own body glorious from the dead, and in order to raise our bodies with Him. “Unless the grain of wheat, falling into the ground, dies, itself remains alone.” So we cast off the flesh, not out of contempt, but in order to heal the flesh in the mercy of penance and restore it to the Spirit to which it belongs. And all creation waits in anguish for our victory and our bodies’ glory.

God wills us to recover all the joys of His created world in the Spirit, by denying ourselves what is really no joy—what only ends in the flesh. “The flesh profits nothing.” (A Year with Thomas Merton: Daily Meditations from His Journals, February 19)

“What would be the good of Lent if it were only temporary?” What would be the good of Lent if all the practices we establish for our lives in order to draw nearer to God during this season were cast off on Easter Sunday? What would be the good of Lent if we returned to Fat Tuesday lives?

One of the things I give up most Lents is social media—all that scrolling. I’m not sure how much time I spend on it, which tells me it is probably too much. I also know that I’ll pick it back up again after Easter. It is something I enjoy. That’s a Lenten practice that I think can be temporary, but what if I decided that I would also spend more time in prayer or more time reading the Word of God? Should that be temporary? “Oh, it’s just a Lent thing. Only temporary.” I’ll give a bit of time to God for a few weeks, but when the season is over, I can quit that silliness. That’s not how it is supposed to work. Our Lenten practices should bring about permanent changes, transformations in our lives.

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust, you shall return.” Remember that you are God’s, and your life with Him is not temporary. Let your Lenten practices become—not just something you are doing for a season, but instead, let them become a part of who you are.

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Sermon: Ash Wednesday – “My Confession”

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In The Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning quotes from another who writes, “One saint used to say that she was the type of woman who advances more rapidly when she is drawn by love than when driven by fear.  She was preceptive enough to know that we are all that type of person.  It is possible to attain great holiness of life while still being prone to pettiness and insincerity, sensuality and envy, but the first move will always be to recognize that I am that way.  In terms of spiritual growth the faith-conviction that God accepts me as I am is a tremendous help to become better.” (p.49)

Brennan sums this up by saying, “Love is a far better stimulus than threat or pressure.”  This understanding leads to the realization that God loves us for who we are.  That doesn’t mean that we don’t seek to be holy as our Father in heaven is holy, but it does mean that we learn to accept God’s grace and mercy, so that we don’t become discouraged and fall away.

That said, I’m always encouraging you to make a proper confession, whether that be to sit down with a priest or on your own, but as I have also told you, I hate going to confession.  I’m very well aware of weaknesses and faults and I don’t like having to put them out there, but today… a public confession (and everybody says, “Well, this just got interesting!”  Not like that, but maybe worse.)  Here goes, two parts…

Part one: many struggle with being hard on themselves and many struggle with accepting God’s grace and mercy.  The more those types of feelings persist, the harder that person is on themself.  Friends: I am not good to myself.  In many different ways I punish myself for my shortcomings.  I am a priest that knows—for a fact!—that you are loved by God and so very deserving of God’s grace and I will do anything I can so that you can experience that love and grace, but… I have refused to accept it for myself.  That’s part one.  Part two: I’m tired of feeling this way.  I’m tired of standing outside the banquet and missing out on the celebration.

That’s the confession.  (Not very juicy, I know.)  So, during this season of Lent, what am I going give up?  I’ll probably give up something more tangible (that one is between me and God), but I think what I’m really going to give up is the act of pummeling myself and kicking my own backside.  I think I’ll give up being a shield to God’s grace and allow him to soften my heart toward myself.  As I said, I’m tired of being on the outside of the banquet, trying to make myself worthy to enter in, all the while, forgetting that this is a work that Jesus has already accomplished.

We always think of the ashes on ash Wednesday as a sign of penance and our mortality, our death.  They are, but Thomas Merton looked at them from the other side.  He wrote, “The ashes become a health-giving medicine and they bring wholeness, cleanness to the body as well as protection to the soul, both of these availing for the remission of sins.  They bring the grace of that humility which they signify, they bring also the pardon which we implore by the fact of receiving them.”

The ashes are a sign of penance and death, but when we receive them with true humility, they are not only a sign of sin and death, but of forgiveness and life.

I invite you to continue on the path for this Lent that you have set for yourself, but, if you find yourself in the boat with me, then I invite you to join me in recognizing the fact that God accepts you as you, so that you can then experience His grace and love.

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Sermon: Ash Wednesday

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The Bureau of Labor came out with some statistics on how we spend our time.  It breaks down like this:

Working and related activities:  8.7 hours

Sleep:  7.7 hours

Leisure and sports:  2.6 hours

Household activities:  1.1 hours

Eating and drinking:  1.1 hours

Caring for Others: 1.3 hours

Other: 1.5 hours

This means that over half the day is gone, with over 12 hours a day devoted to working, eating, household and caring activities.  Then there is the time for sleeping, 7.7 hours, which leaves only a few hours remaining for anything else.  The majority of that extra time would seem to be assigned to the La-z-boy and the TV.  However, of that “other” category, 16 minutes are given to “organizational, civic, and religious” activities.  If we were being generous with the religious aspect and gave it 50% of that time, we would have 8 minutes per day or 56 minutes per week that we give to God.

Now, the unaware and self-righteous side of me would like to rail against those statistics, start telling folks that they need to get their priorities straight and all that.  Truth is, if I weren’t a priest – receiving a stipend so that I could spend time with God on behalf of the people – if I had a job in the secular world, children to care for, school and family functions, if I had all these things and more, then I’m fairly certain that my minutes per day that I spend with God would be less than eight.  Heck, even as a priest there are days when 8 minutes with God seems like a lot!   But that doesn’t make it right.

Much of our life with Christ is about sacrifice, the giving up of who we are and replacing it with who God is.  It is about a relationship and with any relationship it requires time, nurturing, giving, and sacrifice.

In the time leading up to Lent there are always discussion about what we will be “giving up,” that which we abstain from.  However, this giving up is not about an act of will power: “I’m giving up coffee for Lent or smoking or whatever.”  Heck, I gave up beer one Lent and really learned to enjoy red wine.  The point of abstaining from something is so that you will be able to give that time, those resources, etc. to God.  I’ll give up half an hour of TV a day so that I can spend that time with God.  See how it works?

I read our Gospel today and it speaks of doing certain things for God: giving alms, serving Him, praying, and fasting.  It talks about how we rightly do these things, not in public and not for show, but with a world that is constantly demanding more and more of our time, before we can do these things properly we must first learn to simply DO them.  We discover how to give God more than 8 minutes per day, to sacrifice something of ourselves so that we can enter more deeply into that relationship with Him.  This time with God is not just one more thing that we have to accomplish, as a Christian people, time with God, serving Him is our joy!  Thomas a Kempis understood these things.  In his Imitation of Christ, he writes, “I WILL hear what the Lord God will speak in me… Blessed is the soul who hears the Lord speaking within her, who receives the word of consolation from His lips.  Blessed are the ears that catch the accents of divine whispering, and pay no heed to the murmurings of this world.  Blessed indeed are the ears that listen, not to the voice which sounds without, but to the truth which teaches within.  Blessed are the eyes which are closed to exterior things and are fixed upon those which are interior.  Blessed are they who penetrate inwardly, who try daily to prepare themselves more and more to understand mysteries.  Blessed are they who long to give their time to God, and who cut themselves off from the hindrances of the world…. Consider these things, my soul, and close the door of your senses, so that you can hear what the Lord your God speaks within you, ‘I am your salvation,’ says your Beloved. ‘I am your peace and your life.’”

The Lord is your joy.  Your salvation.  Your peace.  Your life.  During this Holy Lent make the sacrifice, take the time, and hear what the Lord your God will speak in you.

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