Tag: Christianity

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Sermon: Proper 15 RCL C – “Crisis”

One day, when Vice President Calvin Coolidge was presiding over the Senate, one senator angrily told another to go “straight to hell.” The offended senator complained to Coolidge, as presiding officer. Coolidge looked up from the book he had been leafing through while listening to the debate and wittily replied, “I’ve looked through the rule book. You don’t have to go.”

Another short reading for you this morning. This one is an excerpt from the Prophet Micah.

“The godly has perished from the earth,
and there is no one upright among mankind;
they all lie in wait for blood…
 
Their hands are on what is evil, to do it well;
the prince and the judge ask for a bribe,
and the great man utters the evil desire of his soul…

Put no trust in a neighbor;
have no confidence in a friend…
 
for the son treats the father with contempt,
the daughter rises up against her mother,
the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
a man’s enemies are the men of his own house.”

It’s a different translation, but that last section is what Jesus was quoting in our Gospel reading today.

Micah prophesied from 742 to 687 BC, and his main complaint—the Lord’s complaint—was directed against both the social and religious elites. His complaint was against the wealthy, who showed no regard for the poor, and the religious leaders who showed no regard for the poor in spirit. Therefore, Micah foresees a coming crisis.

The word crisis originally comes from the Greek and is a medical term. Merriam-Webster defines it as “the turning point for better or worse in an acute disease or fever.” In this case, the “better or worse” means you either live or you die.

In the case of Micah, the evil—the social and religious elite—will repent, or the evil will be destroyed. As for the latter, Micah speaks of the destruction of Jerusalem.

“Therefore because of you
    Zion shall be plowed as a field;
Jerusalem shall become a heap of ruins,
    and the mountain of the house a wooded height.”
(Micah 3:12)

An unfortunate consequence of the punishment of evil is that the innocent often become caught up in the destruction. Today, we rely on the non-emotive term, collateral damage, to describe the death of innocent people, so we don’t have to admit we killed them.

So, when the crisis—the pivotal moment for better or worse—arrives, A) the people will repent, return to the Lord, and live, or B) Jerusalem will fall, and the wicked, along with the collateral damage, will perish.

How did it all turn out? In 586 BC, Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonian army sacked Jerusalem, destroyed the First Temple, and exiled the people.

Micah warned, “The path we are taking is leading to our destruction. We’re about to experience a certain hell on earth, but I’ve checked the rule book, and we don’t have to go.” The crisis arrived, and the people chose… wrongly.

By examining these events, we can find a pattern for any crisis.

  • A specific path is chosen, but there are early warning signs that it may be the wrong path.
  • A shrugging of shoulders, thinking it’ll be OK, or the status quo rules.
  • The early warning signs begin to turn into real problems. Sirens are sounding.
  • The symptoms are addressed, but not the root problem. It begins to fester.
  • A catalyst or trigger of some sort pushes it all over the edge. Hell on Earth follows.
  • The crisis—the turning point for better or worse—blossoms.
  • Options: Strong corrective measures are implemented to prevent a disaster or destruction.

In our Gospel, Jesus said, “You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky—a cloud rising in the west or a south wind blowing—but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?”

Jesus said, “You’ve chosen a certain path, but there are warning signs everywhere—your country is occupied, there is trouble within, the religious system is broken, and there is no fear of God. Yet, in your arrogance, you shrug your shoulders, thinking everything is A-OK. The prophets, like John the Baptist, have sounded the alarm. You believe the solution is to ratchet up the requirements of the Law, but you’re missing the point. It’s not the Law that’s the problem; it’s you! All you’re doing is oppressing the people and further angering the Father. You’ve created Hell on Earth, so you can either turn and repent, or all this will be destroyed. ‘Truly, I say to you, there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.’ (Matthew 24:2) But,” Jesus said, “I’ve looked through the rule book, and you don’t have to go that way.

How did everything turn out? In 70 AD, Titus and the Roman army sacked Jerusalem, destroyed the Second Temple, and enslaved or scattered the people. The exact same pattern and result of the crisis that occurred in the time of Micah.

Not only does this pattern of crisis occur on a large scale for nations, but it also applies to individuals.

I believe it has been at least a week since I last mentioned a Stephen King book, so…

In The Stand, one of the main characters, Larry Underwood, has been experiencing troubles in his life. As he reflects on it, he remembers another person who faced a time of trial—Jory Baker.

Jory was a guitarist, and a good one at that. He even played in a band that looked as though they were going to make it big, but then Jory was involved in an accident. This was followed by intensive rehab and a little drug called Demerol. Jory got hooked, and when he no longer had access to Demerol, he turned to heroin. He ended up on the streets, begging for change and his next fix. Hell on Earth. Crisis—the point where he could choose either life or destruction. Over eighteen months, Jory managed to get clean and stay clean. He chose life.

As he remembers this, Larry thinks, “No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just … come out the other side. Or you don’t.” (p.575)

We understand that all these crises—whether between nations, within individuals, or any type in between—are the direct result of the conflict between Heaven and Hell, with the prize being the soul of God’s people. In C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters, the demon writes, “We want cattle who can finally become food; He [God] wants servants who can finally become sons.” Therefore, in every situation, we must be those who can properly “interpret the present time.” And yes, we must be able to do this for the world and society around us, so we don’t blindly follow the masses to destruction, but equally important, we must learn to unemotionally and honestly “interpret the present time” of our own lives. How do we achieve this?

We must learn to take a step back from our lives and unflinchingly scrutinize them, as if from the outside. Are there warning signs that we may be headed in the wrong direction? If so, are we glossing them over or pretending that they’re really no big deal? In our arrogance, are we convincing ourselves that we’re right, even when evidence suggests otherwise? If we do recognize areas of concern, are we just treating the symptoms while ignoring the real problem? Is a crisis actually developing or already upon us—Hell on Earth? To be blunt, if it looks like you’re heading to hell, remember, there’s nothing in the rule book that says you’ve got to go. Ask yourself, “If in my analysis of the present time and path, will I come out the other side… or not?” If the answer is “Yes,” give thanks to the Lord your God. If the answer is “No,” then pray for wisdom and courage to change. After all, “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?” (Mark 8:36)

The life of a Christian person is often and mistakenly solely measured by emotions. Do I feel the joy of the Lord? Am I at peace? Do I sense God’s presence in my life? If you answer “Yes” to these questions, then you feel like all is well. However, we can’t rely only on our emotions. As Christians, we must sometimes sit down, like an academic, and study our lives—properly interpreting the present times—and then be prepared to make the necessary course corrections. In doing so, with God’s help, we will safely come out the other side.

Let us pray: O Lord, mercifully receive the prayers of your people who call upon you, and grant that they may know and understand what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to accomplish them; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

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Sermon: Clare of Assisi

St. Clare of Assisi: We know very little about her childhood beyond being born into a wealthy family. However, at age eighteen, she had the opportunity to hear St. Francis of Assisi preach and decided to leave everything behind.

Sneaking away from her family, who would have prevented her, she went to Francis and expressed her desire to follow in the way of his teachings. She exchanged her fine clothes for a dress of rough fabric. She cut her long, beautiful hair and replaced it with a veil. At one point, her family tried to pull her back, but she ultimately prevailed, and later her sister Agnes and her mother, when widowed, joined her in the convent.

How did she live? She was barefoot all year, spoke only when necessary, prayed for hours daily, had no source of income, so begged for alms, ate no meat, fasted on bread and water, and slept on a hard floor. Eventually, the Bishop and Francis ordered her to sleep on a mattress for health reasons. You might think such a life would be so unappealing that no one would follow in her footsteps, but that was not the case. When she died, “there were forty-seven convents in Spain alone, with many others in Italy, Bohemia, and France. And not long after Clare’s death, four convents of Poor Clares—as they became known—were founded in England.”

She was considered so pure and righteous in faith that bishops, cardinals, and even Popes sought her advice. Pope Innocent IV, who heard her last confession. Following that confession, he said, “I would to God I had so little need of absolution myself.”

On August 11, 1253, the day she died, she was heard to say, “Go forth in peace, for you have followed the good road. Go without fear, for he who created you has sanctified you, has always protected you, and loves you as a mother. Blessed are you, O God, for having created me.”

Could such a movement continue today? Currently, there are 20,000 Poor Clares spread across the world, living cloistered lives dedicated to prayer—praying for the needs of the church and the world.

In a letter to Agnes, the daughter of the King of Bohemia, who also became a Poor Clare, Clare wrote,

When You have loved [Him], You shall be chaste;
when You have touched [Him], You shall become pure;
when You have accepted [Him], You shall be a virgin.
Whose power is stronger,
Whose generosity is more abundant,
Whose appearance more beautiful,
Whose love more tender,
Whose courtesy more gracious.
In Whose embrace You are already caught up;
Who has adorned Your breast with precious stones
And has placed priceless pearls in Your ears
and has surrounded You with sparkling gems
as though blossoms of springtime
and placed on Your head a golden crown
as a sign [to all] of Your holiness.

There is no doubt that St. Clare of Assisi has received the golden crown from the One she loved above all others—Jesus.

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Sermon: Transfiguration

St. Leo the Great said that the Transfiguration revealed to the disciples “the excellence of [Jesus’] hidden dignity.” That is, it revealed Jesus’ true nature. St. Paul mentioned in his first letter to the Corinthians, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face.” Seeing Jesus outside of the Transfiguration, it was as if the disciples saw Him dimly, but in that moment, they saw Him fully; however, He is not the only one called to be transfigured, because when the Lord says, “You shall be holy, for I am holy,” He is calling for all of us to be transfigured into His likeness.

Anglican Bishop, Brook Westcott writes, “The Transfiguration is the revelation of the potential spirituality of the earthly life in the highest outward form. Such an event, distinct in its teaching from the resurrection, and yet closely akin to it, calls for more religious recognition than it receives. Here the Lord, as Son of Man, gives the measure of the capacity of humanity, and shows that to which he leads all those who are united with him.”

The Transfiguration revealed to us our potential and our fullest capacity as children of God. Achieving this potential, at least in part, makes the saints we study on Wednesdays so extraordinary. They become light to us, radiating Christ. What is the outcome?

In south-central Norway, nestled in a mountain range (the name I won’t even attempt to pronounce), is the small community of Rjukan. The valley where the town is located is so narrow and the mountains so tall that, for six months each year, the town receives no direct sunlight; however, that changed in November 2013. Large mirrors were installed on one of the mountain peaks, and a computer tracks the sun’s movement and adjusts the mirrors’ angles so that a concentrated beam of light shines into the town square, creating a 6,500-square-foot patch of sunlight.

On the day the light started shining, one resident said, “People have been sitting there and standing there and taking pictures of each other. The town square was totally full. We are not that big of a town, so I think almost all the people in the town were on the town square.” She added, “It’s not very big, but it is enough when we are sharing.” (Source)

The saints we study are like mirrors, radiating—not their own light—but the light of Christ into the darkness of the world. As we say in the preface during the Eucharist on certain saints’ days, we give thanks to the Father, “For the wonderful grace and virtue declared in all your saints, who have been the chosen vessels of your grace, and the lights of the world in their generations.”  

It is this same light that we also seek to reflect. We accomplish this by setting ourselves aside and putting on Christ, working on our salvation with “fear and trembling,” and striving for sanctification in our daily lives. Like all the capital “S” Saints, there will be days and seasons of failure, but each day we start fresh until we are clothed in the robes of white and standing eternally before our Father in Heaven, fully transfigured into his glory.

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Sermon: Proper 13 RCL C – “Vanity Vanity”

Three individuals are about to be executed, put to death before the firing squad. One is a Japanese fella, one is from Oklahoma, and the third is a crazy Cajun named Boudreaux. The guard brings the Japanese fella forward, and the executioner asks if he has any last-minute requests. He replies, ‘No, I do not,’ so the executioner sets him up and then turns and shouts to the firing squad: “Ready! Aim…” Suddenly, the Japanese fella yells out: “Tsunami! Run run run.” While everyone is distracted and panicked, the Japanese fella runs away and escapes. The guard brings the next prisoner along—the Oklahoman. The executioner asks if he has any last-minute requests. He answers, “I have nothing to say”, so the executioner gets him ready, then barks his order to the firing squad: “Ready! Aim…” Suddenly, the Oklahoman yells as loud as he can: “Tornado! Run run run!!!” Everyone is again distracted, and the Oklahoman makes his getaway. By now, ol’ Boudreaux has got it all figured out. The guard escorts him forward and asks if he has any last-minute requests. Boudreaux replies, “No,” but has a grin on his face. The executioner turns sharply to the firing squad and shouts: “Ready! Aim…” And Boudreaux hollers out: “Fire!”

I do not believe the firing squad was distracted, Boudreaux.

When I drive, I’m not a speeder—maybe three or four miles over at most. I’ll set the cruise, and then I don’t have to worry about it. The other day, as I was driving down the road, cruise set, I was listening to a book. I’m not sure which one, but I was fairly well engrossed. As I was going along, someone came up and passed me going at least 20-25 mph faster than me. I wished him well, but then another car came up on me pretty quick, and before you know it, there are about four cars behind me. I look in the rearview mirror and say, “I’m not getting a ticket for you folks, so just go around.” At which point, I look at my speedometer. I had set the cruise as I was leaving the last town, but I was involved with my book. Unfortunately, when I set the cruise, I was in a 45 mph zone, but now I was in a 70. I’m not sure how many miles I had putted along at that speed, but I’m certain those stuck behind me were quite pleased when I figured it out.

When it comes to accidents, being distracted is the number one cause. I’ll try to do better.

Merriam-Webster defines distraction as: “an object that directs one’s attention away from something else.” Sometimes those distractions are not of our own making: you’re sitting quietly reading your book, and a meteor crashes through the ceiling and obliterates the coffee table, sending the cat into a maniacal frenzy. Not your fault or your doing. At other times, you are supposed to be studying for an exam, but you choose to be distracted by playing video games.

Why do we do such things? It might be out of compulsion, a lack of discipline, or simply because sometimes we just aren’t all that bright. Any number of reasons, but ultimately, we’re looking for that one thing that will make us happy in the moment and distract us from what we should be focusing on.

Qoheleth is the author of the book of Ecclesiastes. In the third verse of chapter one, he writes, “What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?” (1:3) In this context, the word “toil” refers to all human efforts, whether they are noble, common, necessary, silly, or anything else. In our first lesson today, he discussed the toil of wisdom: “I applied my mind to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven.” (1:13) His goal was to discover the worth of gaining wisdom in his life. Similarly, he explores the meaning behind the toil of gaining wealth, possessions, honor, pleasure, and labor. He did all, apparently knowing no limits. 

He concluded his discussion of each pursuit by declaring their purpose and value to be, “Utterly senseless, everything is senseless!” “Meaningless of meaninglessness! All is meaningless!” “Futility of futilities, all is futile.” “Absolutely pointless! Everything is pointless.” “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” All of our wealth, wisdom, possessions, honor, pleasure, labor—all of our toils and distractions are nothing. Are you depressed yet? “Thanks, Father John, so glad I came to church today for this uplifting and edifying message. I’ll be sure to sleep in next Sunday.” If we left it there, we would all be more than a bit depressed, but Qoheleth does not leave it there, and neither shall we.

To work and seek only wealth and possessions solely for oneself is vanity and meaningless; however, building up treasures in heaven offers lasting and abundant rewards. Pursuing pleasure purely for pleasure’s sake is the height of selfishness, but truly loving as Christ loved us and finding joy in God and others are among the many blessings of creation. I’m certain you see the difference. The issue is that we often seek these things apart from God, and anything apart from God is defined in one simple word: sin.

This is part of the message from the parable we read this morning. The man has worked hard, he has toiled year after year, and has become wealthy. Now, he has a bumper crop, and in his vanity, he decides that he is set and only needs to build barns large enough to hold everything. He thinks he can be done with all this toiling. Yet God says to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” And Jesus adds, “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.” The man became so distracted by earthly riches and toil—“Vanity of vanities, all is vanity”—that he lost sight of what he should have been focused on.

In the end, Qoheleth tells us, “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.” (12:13) What should we focus on, and not let distractions steer us away? The fear of God and His commandments. What does it mean to fear God? Charles Spurgeon answers that for us. “By this we do not mean the servile fear which worketh dread and bondage, but that holy fear which pays reverence before the majesty of the Most High, and has a high esteem of all things sacred, because God is great, and greatly to be praised.” (Sermon: Obadiah; or, Early Piety Eminent Piety) If that is the fear of God, what are His commandments? You know the answer; we talked about it a few weeks back:  “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” (John 13:34) (I can assure you that I know more Bible verses than this, but I do not know of any that are more important.)

Qoheleth tells us that everything is vanity, meaningless, pointless, and futile except to remain in awe of God and His majesty and to love one another, and we know that loving one another is, in fact, loving God.

You have heard of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. In 1945, he was imprisoned for speaking out against the Soviet regime. After his release, he spent from 1958 to 1968 writing The Gulag Archipelago, a nonfiction book about life in a Soviet prison or gulag. As I studied these verses from Ecclesiastes, I was reminded of one of Solzhenitsyn’s conclusions. He wrote,

“What about the main thing in life, all its riddles? If you want, I’ll spell it out for you right now. Do not pursue what is illusory—property and position: all that is gained at the expense of your nerves decade after decade, and is confiscated in one fell night. [He is thinking of his arrest when he lost everything.] Live with a steady superiority over life——don’t be afraid of misfortune, and do not yearn after happiness;… whom should you envy? And why? Our envy of others devours us most of all. Rub your eyes and purify your heart—and prize above all else in the world those who love you and who wish you well. Do not hurt them or scold them, and never part from any of them in anger; after all, you simply do not know: it might be your last act before your arrest, and that will be how you are imprinted in their memory!” (p.591-592)

We must work to care for ourselves and our families. We have possessions for the same reasons. We seek entertainment to bring joy, and even Qoheleth tells us this is from God. He says, “There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?” (2:24-25) Still, none of these things should take priority over or distract us from our fear of God and our love for one another. 

Do not sin. Keep in awe and fear of God, and love one another. From Jesus to Qoheleth to Solzhenitsyn to many others, there is no greater or nobler meaning to life.

Let us pray: Most holy Trinity, Godhead indivisible—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—our first beginning and our last end, You have made us in Your own image and likeness. Grant that all the thoughts of our minds, all the words of our tongues, all the affections of our hearts, and all the actions of our being may always be conformed to Your holy Will. Thus, after we have seen here below in appearances and in a dark manner by means of faith, we may finally come to contemplate You face-to-face In the perfect possession of You forever in heaven. Amen.

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Sermon: Mary and Martha

If you were in church a few Sundays back, you’ll recall we discussed the many facets of this story of Mary and Martha. Well, this is a look at one of them, and it begins with a poem by Virginia Brasier written in 1949—Time of the Mad Atom.

This is the age
Of the half-read page.
And the quick hash
And the mad dash.

The bright night
With the nerves tight.
The plane hop
With the brief stop.

The lamp tan
In a short span.
The Big Shot
In a good spot.

And the brain strain
The heart pain.
And the cat naps
Till the spring snaps

—And the fun’s done!

Time. It consists of moments, minutes, hours, days, decades, and stretches into eternity. There are many wonderful quotes about time. How does it pass? The Wisdom of Solomon states that “our time is like a passing shadow.” How do we spend it? Susan Ertz wrote, “Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.” Do we want more? Queen Elizabeth I’s dying words were, “All my possessions for a moment of time.”

Without humankind, there really is no such thing as time, for as one Jewish commentary wrote, “Without man, time is meaningless.” So what is it then? What is time? For me, it is Henry Longfellow who has the best answer. He writes, “The shadow on the dial, the striking of the clock, the running of the sand, day and night, summer and winter, months, years, centuries — these are but arbitrary and outward signs, the measure of Time, not Time itself. Time,” he says, “is the Life of the soul.” Time is the life of the Soul.

If we were to compile a list of everything we need to accomplish with our time today, I suspect it would be quite long: jobs, caring for children or others, volunteering, studying, leisure, family time, and so on. A lengthy list. Many of these activities can be seen as serving God because we are helping others as He has commanded. However, we can become so caught up in our service to God that we neglect our relationship with Him. Even as a priest, I can get so busy writing sermons, preparing newsletters, attending meetings—everything for the Church—that I forget to make time for God and the life of the soul. Mary and Martha help us see this trap more clearly.

Jesus is visiting their home. Martha is busy running around to take care of everyone, while her sister, Mary, is sitting and listening to Jesus. Finally, frustrated, Martha says to Jesus, Don’t you care that I’m doing all this work and my sister is just sitting there like a bump on a log? While not condemning Martha for her work, Jesus responds, ”Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” Mary has chosen the better part. Martha’s work is good, but Mary has chosen the better part; she is tending to the life of her soul by engaging with her Lord.

This is indeed the time of “the quick hash and the mad dash.” Therefore, we must learn to serve as Martha served, but we also need to take time like Mary to tend to the life of our souls by stepping back from our busy service and by engaging in our relationship with God. After all, it is God who is the center that holds everything else together. “Seek first the Kingdom of Heaven.” Seek first those opportunities to sit at the feet of Jesus, as Mary did, then go forth in the Name of Christ to serve Him with gladness and singleness of heart.

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Sermon: Proper 11 RCL C – “Home for the Holy Spirit”

A woman decided to have her portrait painted. She said to the artist, “Paint me with diamond rings, a diamond necklace, emerald bracelets, a ruby brooch, and a gold Rolex.”

“But you are not wearing any of those things,” the artist replied.

“I know,” she said. “It’s in case I should die before my husband. I’m sure he will remarry right away, and I want his new wife to go crazy looking for the jewelry.”

The Golden Jubilee Diamond is the world’s largest cut and faceted diamond. It weighs 545.67 carats and is roughly the size of a golf ball. Its market value ranges from $4 million to $12 million, depending on the market. However, due to its color and clarity, it is not the most expensive diamond. That honor belongs to the Pink Star Diamond, which weighs 59.6 carats and sold for $71.2 million. Both diamonds were cut to maximize their carat weight.

When it comes to cutting diamonds, the round brilliant cut offers the most sparkle, with 57 or 58 facets. 57 if the bottom tip remains pointed, and 58 if the point is cut away. These facets are added to help the stone reflect and refract light, creating, in diamond terms, scintillation. 

Perhaps a lot of unnecessary detail, but the point is that our Gospel reading today—the story of Mary and Martha—appears only in Luke’s Gospel and, when studied, proves to be scintillating in all its facets. There are many ways to interpret it, most of which are true, while some are just silly.

One facet, and perhaps the most apparent one, is the difference between the busy and the prayerful life. Martha is rushing around, taking care of all the chores, while Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, listening to His words. Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better way, so we might say that a contemplative life is preferable to a busy one. It’s a good message, and I have preached it before. However, it does not capture the fullness of what is transpiring. 

To start with, if we claim that life is all about the contemplative, then no work gets done. We end up sitting around all day singing Kum ba Yah, letting someone else handle everything. That was similar to what happened in the time of Paul. Do you know what he said? “If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. Now, such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living.” (2 Thessalonians 3:10-12) When Jesus says that Mary chose the better, he’s not saying that Martha chose the wrong. Something more is happening.

Another facet has us viewing this through a feminist lens, and I’m not being disrespectful when I say that. During the time of Jesus, within the Jewish home, there were only two places where men and women would mingle: outside or in the marital bedroom. The main public room—think of it as the living room—was the gathering place for visitors, but it was for men only. It was in this public room that Jesus was speaking. Yet, even though it was reserved for men, Mary was there, sitting with the men—the little hussy. She is not fulfilling her duty as a woman by cooking and cleaning. Not only that, she is also sitting in the place of a man. Yet, when Martha complains, Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better part. For some, this interpretation highlights how Jesus leveled the playing field for men and women. It can be viewed as a type of liberation for women, placing them on equal ground with men. Another good sermon, and one I’ve preached before, but even though it makes a good point, it doesn’t capture the bigger picture.

Another facet would be to take this same idea and apply it to how Jesus crossed all boundaries. By making the Gospel accessible to Mary and speaking to her so openly, it can go further to suggest that Jesus is willing to cross all boundaries—ethnic, social, political, cultural, and more—in order to bring the message of God’s love and redemption to everyone. An excellent point, and I’m sure at some point, I’ve preached it.

The ideas of elevating women or crossing boundaries are both valid understandings and teachings, but they are both lacking because they don’t address all aspects of what is happening.

One of the silly interpretations comes from some who suggest that Martha and Mary were deeply in love with Jesus, and that Martha’s jealousy stemmed from Mary’s physical closeness to Jesus. Just for the record, that is not a facet, I haven’t preached it, and I’m never going to. 

As you examine these events, you’ll discover various other facets, but they are simply that, facets. So, this week, as I kept trying to grasp the message, I never felt truly satisfied with my understanding. I kept focusing on the individual characters—Mary, Martha, Jesus, the disciples—and realized I had been approaching it all wrong. Instead of seeking understanding through the facets, I needed to pull back and view the diamond as a whole. 

I believe that this is what Luke was pointing to in the opening sentence: “As Jesus and his disciples went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.” To understand, we don’t focus on the individual characters; instead, we consider the home and what is inside.

There is Jesus, our King and Redeemer. Like Mary, we are called to sit at His feet, learn from Him, and allow Him to guide our lives. At the same time, we are to be like Martha — tending to our individual callings, whether that means being a homemaker, a priest, a clerk, a nurse, or whatever else Jesus has assigned us. In doing so, we find balance. Too much work and we neglect time with Jesus. Although sitting with Jesus is the best choice, we can’t spend all our lives just sitting; we must also do the work. Does that mean we’ve abandoned Jesus? No. He is still in the house. He is still available to us. He is working alongside us.

In the Gospel of John, at the Last Supper, Jesus speaks to the disciples and says, “Whoever has my commandments and keeps them…” (John 14:21). Clarification: What are Jesus’ commandments? He gave them to the disciples just a few minutes earlier: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)

So, “‘Whoever has my commandments and keeps them—that is, whoever loves—he is the one who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.’ Judas (not Iscariot) said to him, ‘Lord, how is it that you will manifest yourself to us and not to the world?’ Jesus answered him, ‘If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.’” (John 14:21-23)

The events that occur in Martha’s home are an embodiment of Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John. 

Our bodies and our souls are a home. Within our home, we work, play, rest, and pray. We live. If we keep the commandment of Jesus to love one another, He and the Father, that is, the Holy Spirit, will come to us and become part of our home. There, guided by the very Spirit of God, we will live a life that is pleasing to Him.

Pitting Mary against Martha is the wrong approach when admiring this diamond. The former archbishop of Turin expressed it well: “In our house, there is room for Martha and room for Mary, and we must occupy both places. We must be Mary because we are welcoming the Word, and we must be Martha because we are receiving the Son of Man.” We need to be Mary to learn about God’s love, and we need to be Martha to express that love to others. It’s not Mary or Martha, but Mary in Martha (cf. Sanctify Your Daily Life by Stefan Cardinal Wyszynski, p.100), and vice versa, with the Holy Spirit working in both.

When inviting the Holy Spirit into your home, don’t just give it access to the “spiritual” aspects of your life, but instead, allow it to roam freely throughout every room, so you will have access to and benefit from this Gift from God.

Let us pray: Come, O Divine Spirit, fill our hearts with Your heavenly fruits: charity, joy, peace, patience, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faith, meekness, modesty, self-control, and chastity, so that we may never grow tired in serving God. Through continued faithful submission to Your inspiration, may we be found worthy to be united forever with You in the love of the Father and the Son. Amen.

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Sermon: Aquila and Priscilla

This past Sunday, we read in our Gospel the words of Jesus: “The Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. He said to them, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.’”

In discussing this, we found that the Lord was appointing ambassadors. Those seventy and the disciples can be considered the first generation of ambassadors. Today, we honor Aquila and Priscilla, husband and wife, as second-generation ambassadors.

Around 40 A.D., Claudius was emperor, and at that time, disturbances erupted between the Christian-Jews and the Gentile Christians over the Messiahship of Jesus. The Roman historian Suetonius, lumping the two groups together, wrote that the Jews “were rioting on account of someone named Chrestus.” Emperor Claudius, caring nothing about the argument, resolved it by expelling all the Jews from Rome, two of them, Aquila and Priscilla. After the expulsion, they traveled about 750 miles to Corinth, where they continued their trade of tent making. 

Perhaps because they heard him preach or because they shared the same trade of tent making, Priscilla and Aquila came into contact with Paul and became close companions in the work of the Gospel. Eighteen months later, the three traveled to Ephesus to continue God’s work, and shortly after, Paul went on to Antioch, but the couple remained in Ephesus. In writing to the Church in Corinth, Paul says in his closing, “The churches of Asia send you greetings. Aquila and Priscilla, together with the church in their house, send you hearty greetings in the Lord.” By mentioning them by name, Paul demonstrates the great esteem he had for them, and also tells us that Priscilla and Aquila started a church in their home. This was typical, as churches did not begin meeting in dedicated buildings until the third century.

The Acts of the Apostles also describe Aquila and Priscilla’s encounter with the Alexandrian Jew, Apollo. “He had been instructed in the way of the Lord. And being fervent in spirit, he spoke and taught accurately the things concerning Jesus, though he knew only the baptism of John.” So, after hearing him preach, Aquila and Priscilla “took him aside and explained to him the way of God more accurately.” Aquila and Priscilla were second-generation Christians, and by teaching Apollo, they helped raise up and train the next generation.

President Ronald Reagan said, “Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn’t pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children’s children what it was once like in the United States where men were free.” Replace the word ‘Freedom’ with ‘Christianity’ and you’ll have another truth.

Aquila and Priscilla returned to Rome, where they were eventually martyred for their faith, but they did not allow their faith to die with them. They serve as an example of what it means to be an apostolic church—a church that passes on the teachings and practices to the next generation, ensuring the faith of our fathers and mothers remains alive for all future generations.

Aquila and Priscilla are like the seventy Jesus sent out as ambassadors. So are we. Pass on your faith to the next generation so that the light of the Gospel may continue to shine in this dark world. 

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Sermon: Proper 9 RCL C – “Travel Light”

Photo by Shawn Augustine on Unsplash

A lady was heading to London from New York to visit her kids and grandkids who lived there. When she reached the airline counter to check her bags, she presented her ticket to London. As she gave the agent her luggage, she said, “I’d like you to send my green suitcase to Hawaii and my red suitcase to Budapest.”

The confused agent said, “I’m sorry. You’re going to London. We can’t do that.”

Really? I’m so relieved to hear you say that because that’s exactly what you did to my luggage last year!

Traveling. There really is an art to traveling, and it’s not something you can easily learn from reading or watching a video on. You’ve just got to get out there and go, and see what the world has to offer.

Some of you may remember one of my first big trips to Portugal. There I was, standing in the bathroom with an espresso in one hand and a hairdryer in the other, attempting to dry my shirt. I’ve learned a few things since then, and packing as little as possible is one of the most important lessons.

For my last trip, I carried a light backpack that was about a third full and a small carry-on bag only three-quarters full. That was for ten days. I see people at airports and in hotels schlepping two large pieces of luggage and backpacks that are stuffed to zipper-popping extremes, and I wonder why. A travel blogger tries to answer that question.

“It all starts with fear. No, really. According to psychologists, overpacking is often rooted in loss aversion — our brain’s sneaky way of saying, ‘What if you need that third pair of heels in rural Tuscany?’” (Source)

Now, I’m happy to report that I’ve never even needed a single pair of heels, but you get the point. When we start packing, we think about the trip and then attempt to plan for every possible scenario, then pack accordingly. In the end, you end up with two steamer trunks and a hernia. Plus, you have all those belongings to maneuver through airports and on trains. There’s the worry of keeping up with it all, especially if you’re traveling alone, not to mention, will the green suitcase go to Hawaii and the red suitcase end up in Budapest. Ultimately, all that stuff and the worries that come with it are a huge distraction from the actual trip. The same travel blogger writes, “Packing light is a mindset shift, not a packing hack. It’s about choosing to be present, adaptable, and open to the unknown.” All the energy you save can then be used to enjoy the trip. You are free to be aware and open to what you set out to experience.

Our Gospel reading from last week began, “When the days drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” Jesus is headed to Jerusalem, and shortly after He arrives, He will be arrested and crucified, so He knows that He will not be coming this way again. So, today’s Gospel tells us that He appointed seventy others to go two-by-two to the places He would be passing through. He is asking them to prepare the groundwork so that when He arrives, He can get straight to work because time is short. 

For their journey, Jesus gave them specific instructions, which began, “Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road.”

Jesus is sending ambassadors, and these are very similar instructions to those given to the twelve when He sent them out. “Carry no purse.” Do not carry any money with you. You are bringing a message of salvation, and those who hear and believe will provide for you. “Carry no bag” relates to this because Jesus is referring to the kind of bag often carried by beggars. They are not to be beggars; they are to be givers of God’s message. “Carry no sandals.” You are not to carry money, beg for money, or appear to have money. You are to be my ambassadors; therefore, you will go as I do. 

These ambassadors of Jesus would appear very different from the Roman ambassadors people were accustomed to seeing. Roman ambassadors traveled with an entourage, including other officials, servants, and slaves. When they moved around, they rode in ornate carriages and dressed to the nines, wearing large rings as signs of their status and authority. 

Jesus is sending these seventy to be His ambassadors, but He does not want them looking anything like these other ambassadors. He wants them to look like Him and travel light.

Following the resurrection, the Apostles continued this practice. In the Acts of the Apostles, Peter and John are walking to the Temple when a crippled man asks them for alms. Peter said to him, “I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!” (Acts 3:6) Commenting on this, St. Ambrose writes, “It is as if he were saying, ‘You see in me a disciple of Christ, and you ask me for gold? [Jesus] gave us something much more valuable than gold, the power to act in his name. I do not have what Christ did not give me, but I do have what he did give me: In the name of Jesus Christ, arise and walk.’” And the man did. 

The mission of the Apostles and the seventy, Jesus’ ambassadors, was always centered on the message of peace. Peace between God and His creation. Today, we are His ambassadors. We are the ones who are to bring this message to the world, and in doing so, we should also travel light.

In taking our trips and traveling light, the travel blogger tells us that we are “choosing to be present, adaptable, and open to the unknown.” The same idea applies to traveling light as Jesus’ ambassadors. We are not in it for the money. We are not seeking to gain anything for ourselves. Instead, relying solely on God, we seek to be present to a hurting world in all its circumstances and issues. We do this so that we might fulfill our roles as ambassadors of bringing God’s message of peace. This brings us to the last part of Jesus’ travel instructions—“Greet no one on the road.”

Whenever I sit down to write a sermon or a story, I usually manage fine with small interruptions that come along—someone dropping by, the phone ringing, or a text message or email coming in. However, I reach a point where I need to concentrate solely on the words. If I don’t, I lose the thread of what I’m trying to say. What to do? I pop in my headphones, play some instrumental music, and set my phone to DND—do not disturb. It’s not that I’m being rude and don’t want to have to deal with anybody, it’s just that when I do these things, all that remains are the words. 

When Jesus told the seventy to “greet no one on the road,” He wasn’t asking them to be rude to those around them. He was saying, for a time, they needed to focus solely on one thing—the message of peace. If they got distracted, they would get sidetracked and eventually lose the thread of what He asked them to do.

Of all the issues the Church faces today, I believe this is one of the most significant. We are ambassadors for Christ. We have been given our mission, but we often get sidetracked and lose the thread of what we are supposed to be doing.

We are told, “The seventy-two returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!’ And he said to them, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” Rejoice that you have attained the Kingdom of God because you were obedient and fulfilled God’s purpose for your life—doing what you were supposed to be doing.

We are called to be the ambassadors of Christ, therefore, we are to look like Him and do the things He did in the way He did them. We are to remain focused and not get distracted by the various things happening around us. Finally, wherever we are, we are to announce God’s peace and bring the message, “The kingdom of God has come near to you.” Then, we create space, so that Jesus may enter, not just to announce peace but to bring peace—reconciliation with God.

Let us pray: O God, you have made of one blood all the peoples of the earth, and sent your blessed Son to preach peace to those who are far off and to those who are near: Grant that people everywhere may seek after you and find you; bring the nations into your fold; pour out your Spirit upon all flesh; and hasten the coming of your kingdom; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 8 RCL C – “How to Play God”

Photo by Artur Aldyrkhanov on Unsplash

You know him, but you probably don’t know him by name—Jonathan Goldsmith. A few facts about his life: his passport requires no photograph, his business card simply says ‘I’ll Call You,’ and he brought a knife to a gunfight—just to even the odds. He is The Most Interesting Man in the World, and from 2006 to 2016, he was often heard saying, “I don’t always drink beer, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis.” Of course, the internet got hold of that, and the memes continue to explode.

I don’t always live dangerously, but when I do, I press send before proofreading.

I don’t always pass slow drivers, but when I do, I check to see if they look as stupid as they drive.

I don’t always “Whoop,” but when I do, there it is.

On days when I know I have a service or will be out and about doing priesty things, I wear my cassock and collar. It really does change the way people look at me and respond. When I’m dressed in regular street clothes, most folks just pass by. When I’m in the cassock and collar, most will speak. The cassock and collar identify me with the church, faith, and hopefully, God. I believe it’s important and helps people see “the church” in the world. The other day, I made a hospital visit, so I was in cassock and collar. On the way back to my car, a mom, a dad, and their four children were heading in. One of the boys looked over at me and then shouted, “Dad, it’s the Pope!” His dad corrected him and told him that I was a priest, but it made me think, “I don’t always wear a cassock and collar, but when I do, people think I’m the Pope!” How you doin’?

There are certain individuals, organizations, and ideas that hold a place of honor in our lives. When we see or think about them, we want to be associated with them. If we can’t necessarily be in a relationship with them, then we will seek ways to be identified with them. Can I just say, “Go, Thunder!” Score of 103-91. A few years ago, I attended an OSU basketball game, but it and the final against the Pacers were the only basketball games I’ve seen in at least a decade, if not more. Yet, when the Thunder won, I—and I’m sure every other Oklahoman—didn’t say, “The Thunder won!” Instead, it was, “WE won!” We won the national championship. Yes, indeed. The most difficult thing I did that entire evening was feeding myself, but WE won. We celebrate in the parade, we wear our gear, and we boast that we are champions.

No, I don’t believe that I’m the Pope, but I do closely associate and am aligned with the Church. My identity is deeply tied to it. This association, I pray that this connection also reflects my relationship and identity in God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

Being associated and finding identity with the Church, God, and even the Thunder isn’t a bad thing. It brings joy, happiness, and, for the Church and God, a sense of purpose. It fulfills me. However, such connection and identity can sometimes lead to undesirable effects and actions.

In Luke’s Gospel, leading up to our reading today, the Apostles witnessed and experienced many exciting and miraculous events. They saw Jesus calm the storm, feed the 5,000, cast out demons, and heal the sick. Peter declared Jesus to be the Christ, and together with James and John, they witnessed the Transfiguration. Additionally, Jesus sent them out to do the same works He was doing: preaching, healing, and casting out demons. When they return, they report their successes. Because of their association and identification with Jesus, they also began to see themselves as closely linked with the One Jesus identified with—the Father. This, in itself, is a very good thing. They begin to understand that they are truly God’s children; however, after the Transfiguration, things take an unpleasant turn. 

The Apostles begin to think that if they were with Jesus, they could sit in the seats of honor in the coming kingdom, which they still only understood as an earthly kingdom. They start arguing about who is the greatest, so that they can rule, not only over the kingdom but also over each other. Going even further, now that they were in so tight with Jesus and, through association, to the Father, they begin to see themselves having the same rights and powers that belong exclusively to God. When the Samaritan village turns away from Jesus, “James and John saw it, they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’” 

Remember Abraham’s nephew, Lot. God had enough of the wickedness of Sodom and Gomorrah, so the “Lord rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah—from the Lord out of the heavens. Thus, he overthrew those cities and the entire plain, destroying all those living in the cities—and also the vegetation in the land.” When Abraham looked down from the mountains, “he saw dense smoke rising from the land, like smoke from a furnace.”

James and John believed they had the right to judge as only God can judge. They not only wanted to be associated with and identified with Jesus and the Father, but they also sought God’s power. They wanted to judge, rage against those they saw as God’s enemies, and exact vengeance on them. They wanted to play God. 

I’m not surprised that the Scriptures tell us Jesus rebuked them, but I am actually quite surprised that the Scriptures didn’t say, “And Jesus looked at them in dismay and said, ‘Are ya stupid? Nobody can call down fire from Heaven. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.’” Why didn’t He say that? Because maybe we can’t burn a place or person down like what happened at Sodom and Gomorrah, but we can and do call down fire in other ways.

We put on our Jesus gear. We’ve got the crosses we wear and the clothes with messages that proclaim our faith. We talk openly about our faith. We post messages on social media for all the world to see. And if there were a Jesus parade, we’d jump in and want to ride on the float. We want to be associated and identified with Jesus and our faith. Good. Keep it up. There are many ways to proclaim the Good News. But, like the Apostles, we can take this too far.

We can come to believe that because we are with Jesus, we are holy or even holier than others. We can come to believe that if someone opposes our beliefs, they are opposing God, and therefore must be silenced because they are wrong and evil. We may believe that if they fail to keep our standards (even though we fail to do so ourselves), they are weak and unloved by God. We can look at others and then to Jesus and ask, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” When we do this, we take on the exclusive powers of God, playing God ourselves. In doing so, our sins become greater than those we judge, and we are the ones who need rebuking.

However, there is a way for us to play God, and in doing so, we take on not just what we understand as the power of God, but God’s true nature, as witnessed in Jesus. For if we have seen Jesus, we have seen the Father. What do we see in Jesus? St. Paul summed it up for us in his letter to the Galatians that we read this morning. We see in Jesus “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Through the Spirit of God, we have the power to live this life.

William Temple was the Archbishop of Canterbury in the early 1940s. He writes,

“It is no good giving me a play like Hamlet or King Lear and telling me to write a play like that. Shakespeare could do it—I can’t. And it is no good showing me a life like the life of Jesus and telling me to live a life like that. Jesus could do it—I can’t. But if the genius of Shakespeare could come and live in me, then I could write plays like this. And if the Spirit [of God] could come into me, then I could live a life like His.”

Children may think I’m the Pope, but I’m smart enough to know I’m not even close. However, I desire to be so closely associated with and identified with Jesus that I begin to resemble Him. This transforming work is accomplished through the Spirit of God living within, and the fruit of this work is “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Therefore, we must invite God’s Holy Spirit to take up residence in our soul, in our entire being, so that we may be as He is.

If you want to play God, bring peace. If you want to play God, remain faithful. If you want to play God, show kindness. In this way, you will not only be associated with and identified with the Lord, but you will also become like the Lord.

Let us pray (by St. Augustine): Breathe into me, Holy Spirit, that my thoughts may all be holy. Move in me, Holy Spirit, that my work, too, may be holy. Attract my heart, Holy Spirit, that I may love only what is holy. Strengthen me, Holy Spirit, that I may defend all that is holy. Protect me, Holy Spirit, that I may always be holy. Amen.

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