Sermon: Christ the King RCL B – “Shadow”


I’ve no idea how I’ve ended up in the world of old radio programs—last week, it was Orson Welle’s broadcast of War of the Worlds—and this week, I’ve found another one. It began on July 31, 1930, as the Detective Story Hour radio program. Each episode starts with the narrator stating, “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows!” Each episode concludes, “As you sow evil, so shall you reap evil! Crime does not pay…The Shadow knows!”

Later episodes reveal that Kent Allard is The Shadow but goes by many different aliases. His best-known alias is Lamont Cranston, a bit of a Batman/Bruce Wayne character. Living in New York, he is a vigilante with a vast network of assistants and informants and a trusty .45 Colt pistol that aids him in fighting crime. Through these, he can gain the information he needs to defeat the criminals. He is also where we get the phrase, “Only the Shadow knows.” (I actually had no idea what that meant until I started reading about it this week. It was just one of those things you said.)

In the end, The Shadow learned and knew what others did not. 

In our Saints Book Club this past week, we discussed Saint Catherine of Siena: Mystic of Fire—Preacher of Freedom. I think we all walked away, wanting to know more about her. Although uneducated and not learning to read or write until a later age, she was one who advised paupers and Popes. Very remarkable. In her writing, she also speaks of a shadow. Like the radio character, her shadow also learns and knows what others do not, but instead of it being about others, her shadow knows about herself. 

Catherine says, “Never leave the knowledge of yourself!” (p.41) What she is saying is that we need to know the shadow, our inner selves intimately, so that we can begin, in the words of St. Paul, to “work out [our] own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in [us], both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” (Philippians 2:12-13) 

How does it work? Someone can tell me, “You’re so kind and loving.” I can believe that and go on my merry way, but if I look at the shadow within, I know that is not really true. As David says in the Psalms,

“For I know my transgressions,
    and my sin is ever before me.” (Psalm 51:3)

Understanding your shadow means knowing yourself and rooting out even the slightest transgressions. This helps us temper the praise of others, which can build our ego to unmanageable levels and also keeps us from believing the lies we tell ourselves. It also keeps us humble and compassionate, for by recognizing our faults and weaknesses, we begin to understand the struggles that others are facing in their own lives. However, knowing your shadow comes with a warning.

When you discover the shadow within, those ugly bits about yourself, you start to believe what it says about you. Catherine writes, “[W]hen notions come into the heart that say, ‘What you are doing is neither pleasing nor acceptable to God; you are in a state of damnation.’ And little by little, after these notions have caused discouragement, they infiltrate the soul and point out a way disguised as humility, saying, ‘You can see that because of your sins you aren’t worthy of many graces and gifts’—and so the person stays away from communion and from other spiritual gifts and practices. This is the devil’s trick, the darkness he causes.” (p.60)

We can come to believe we are all that and a bag of chips based on what others say about us, but by understanding our shadow and the sinfulness within, we can also come to believe the devil, who tells us we are completely lost and outside of God’s redeeming work. Through self-condemnation, we become discouraged and may eventually walk away from God entirely, believing we will never be good enough. That is a lie of the devil, but what is the solution? The solution is recognizing that the shadow only distorts the image within you. The shadow is not who you truly are. To see the true you, you must look in what Catherine calls “the Gentle Mirror of God.” 

“In the gentle mirror of God,” Catherine writes, the believer when at prayer “sees her own dignity: that through no merit of hers but by his creation she is the image of God.” (p.47) 

The image of God within can reveal itself in a multitude of ways—how we give, how we serve, how we sacrifice ourselves—but for Catherine, all of these can be summed up in one word: fire.

Today, in our first lesson, Daniel relates a vision.

As I watched,
thrones were set in place,
 and an Ancient One took his throne,
his clothing was white as snow,
 and the hair of his head like pure wool;
his throne was fiery flames, 
and its wheels were burning fire.
A stream of fire issued
and flowed out from his presence.
(Daniel 7:9-10a)

Catherine is very much aware of the shadow within herself, but as she looks in the gentle mirror of God, she begins to understand the nature of God and, in so doing, understands her own nature, which is the image of God within her. Speaking to God, who she refers to as boundless Love, she says, “In your nature, eternal Godhead, I shall come to know my nature. And what is my nature, boundless Love? It is fire, because you are nothing but a fire of love.” (p.47) St. John says, “God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” (1 John 4:16b) God is love, and for Catherine, this love is revealed as fire. A fire that reveals the defects of the shadow and a fire that, through its love, restores us to the true Image of God.

She writes, “For just as you can better see the blemish on your face when you look at yourself in the mirror, so the soul who in true self-knowledge rises up with desire to look at herself in the gentle mirror of God… sees all the more clearly her own defects because of the purity she sees in him.” (p.47) 

This is not an easy process. It can be painful at times because recognizing the defects of your own shadow is recognizing the not-so-nice bits about yourself. However, it is also “sweet” because by identifying the defects of the shadow, you can begin to do something about them.

Today is Christ the King Sunday. The day we celebrate the Kingship of our Lord. Liturgically, this is the last Sunday of the Church year. Next Sunday we begin the Season of Advent, which will lead up to the birth of the Christ Child. Much like the Season of Lent, the Season of Advent is a time of preparation. In Advent, we prepare our hearts, minds, and souls to receive the great gift of our salvation given to us through the birth of Jesus. One of the ways that we can prepare is by doing as Catherine encourages—knowing the shadow within as revealed by the fire we see in the gentle mirror of God.

You can stop there, but there are times when it must be spoken to release a thing’s power. Catherine says, “When [evil] thoughts or strong temptations regarding some specific thing (no matter how ugly) come into your heart, never keep them inside, but reveal them to the father of your soul…. We mustn’t be afraid, but must reveal our every infirmity to the doctor of our soul.” (p.92) Don’t shoot the messenger, but she is talking about confession. There are times when, in order to release the power of sin, the sin must be spoken, and the Church provides the Sacrament of Reconciliation/Confession for this specific purpose.

The Book of Common Prayer teaches us, “[I]f, in your preparation, you need help and counsel, then go and open your grief to a discreet and understanding priest, and confess your sins, that you may receive the benefit of absolution, and spiritual counsel and advice; to the removal of scruple and doubt, the assurance of pardon, and the strengthening of your faith.” (BCP 317) No. Confession is not the Church’s way of learning about all the ugliness of your shadow. Instead, it is the Church’s way of helping the fire of God’s love within you burn away sin so that you might be set free. It is as simple as that.

“Only the Shadow knows.” The shadow within you knows your inner self. Get to know it, then get to work on it. Allow the fire of God… allow Jesus to set you free, which is true freedom. For as Jesus teaches, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” (John 8:36)

Let us pray: (Prayer 12: My Nature Is Fire)

In your nature, eternal Godhead,
I shall come to know my nature.
And what is my nature, boundless love?
It is fire,
because you are nothing but a fire of love.
And you have given humankind
a share in this nature,
for by the fire of love you created us.
And so with all other people
and every created thing;
you made them out of love.
O ungrateful people!
What nature has your God given you?
His very own nature!
Are you not ashamed to cut yourself off from such a noble thing
through the guilt of deadly sin?
O eternal Trinity, my sweet love!
You, light, give us light.
You, wisdom, give us wisdom.
You, supreme strength, strengthen us.
Today, eternal God,
let our cloud be dissipated
so that we may perfectly know and follow your Truth in truth,
with a free and simple heart.
God, come to our assistance!
Lord, make haste to help us!

Amen.

Sermon: Lent 4 RCL B – “Into the Light”

Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

Ol’ Boudreaux had been out carousing all night, so he decided it might be best to go to confession before going home to Clotile. It had been many years since his last confession, so he was a bit surprised when he stepped into the confessional. On one wall was a fully stocked bar with Guinness on tap. A dazzling array of the finest cigars and chocolates was on the other wall. Boudreaux here’s the priest come in on the other side and says, “Father, forgive me, for it’s been a very long time since I’ve been to confession, but I must admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be.”

The priest responds, “Get out! You’re on my side.”

The Israelites had been set free from their bondage in Egypt, and they passed through the parted waters of the Red Sea, but through their sin, they ended up wandering around for forty years. At one point, they came to Mount Hor, about forty miles south of the Dead Sea. As it was difficult in the land, they again complained against the Lord, so the Lord sent the serpents to punish them. Many died from being bitten by the poisonous snakes. When the people came to their senses, they confessed to Moses—“We have sinned by speaking against the Lord and against you; pray to the Lord to take away the serpents from us.” The Lord heard their cries for mercy, so He said to Moses, “‘Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.’” So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.” They named the bronze snake Nehushtan, and later in Israel’s history, they’ll turn it into a god and worship it, but that’s for another day. In today’s lesson, the people sinned, and death entered in the form of the serpents. When the people confessed their sins, the Lord provided a way for them to live—look upon the serpent that has been raised up, and you will live.

In our Gospel reading this morning, Jesus said, “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”

In the time of Moses, the people sinned, and death came upon them. So they confessed their sin, and if they looked up at the bronze snake, they would live.

Today, we know that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23) and that “the wages of sin is death.” (Romans 6:23) However, we also know that “If we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) In confessing and repenting, we are not looking up at a bronze snake, but within our souls, we are looking up to our crucified Lord, and by doing so, by believing in the sacrifice He made on our behalf, we have eternal life.

Within the teachings of the Old Testament and the New, we know that there is sin and death, as well as forgiveness and life. However, between those two paths lies confession. 

There is the general/private confession we make almost every time we gather, and there is auricular confession. Auricular relates to the ear, meaning to be heard, so it is our confession to a priest.

Is the general/private confession just as good as auricular confession? Yes, in that forgiveness of sin is assured. No, in that sometimes, you need to confront and speak a sin—you need to make it real—not for God’s sake, but for yours, so that, as we say in The Exhortation, “you may receive the benefit of absolution, and spiritual counsel and advice; to the removal of scruple and doubt, the assurance of pardon, and the strengthening of your faith.” And there’s one more reason to speak your sins to another that the Prayer Book will not mention—it is humbling, and there are times when we need to be humbled. It is not a pleasant experience, far from it, but it is a cleansing one. 

Think of what Jesus said, “All who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.” The confession of sin is the hauling out into the light those things we would prefer to keep hidden. It is the recognition that as much as we would like to think otherwise, we are not always good little boys and girls. In my heart, I can speak to God about my unrighteousness, and God says, “Yeah, I know.” However, when I speak to the image of Christ in another person, when I make my sin real, then I also genuinely know of my fallenness. No longer can I deceive myself into thinking that I’ve confessed when I come before another. In Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes, “Our brother breaks the circle of self-deception. A man who confesses his sins in the presence of a brother knows that he is no longer alone with himself; he experiences the presence of God in the reality of the other person.” (p. 116) When we confess, we come into the light with all that is dark within us and allow God’s Light to reveal and cleanse us of that darkness.

I know that we always have fun when the topic of confession comes up, but I do believe in its ability to heal, so, all fun aside, I want you to know about it. Do I expect there to be a line on Wednesday for those of you seeking to make confession? Nope. But I do ask you to consider it, and if nothing else, the next time you make a general confession, don’t just say the words. Instead, bring the burden of your sins before God, and seek to make amendment of life, not just with words, but in actions as well. And then—and this is the other half and perhaps the more difficult aspect of confession—receive the absolution. Know in your soul, without hesitation or doubt, that you have been forgiven. You don’t have to carry the weight of your sins. As St. John tells us, “If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.” (1 John 1:7) Jesus was lifted up on the cross that you might receive forgiveness of sin. Receive that forgiveness and know that you have been made acceptable to God. From the Book of the Prophet Isaiah,

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord:
though your sins are like scarlet,
    they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
    they shall become like wool.”

(Isaiah 1:18)

Today, I’ll close with a portion of Psalm 32,

Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered.
Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity, and in
whose spirit there is no deceit.
For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away
through my groaning all day long.
For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.
I acknowledged my sin to you,
and I did not cover my iniquity;
I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,”
and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. (Psalm 32:1-5)

The Word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

Sermon: Ash Wednesday – “My Confession”

Photo by Ahna Ziegler on Unsplash

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.