Tag: Episcopal

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Sermon: Proper 15 RCL A1 – “Story of the Heart”

Johnny was proposing to his girlfriend. He held the ring and said: “Sweetheart, I love you so much. I want you to marry me. I don’t have a car like Hank Green. I don’t have a yacht like his or a house as big as his. I don’t have Hank Green’s money, but I love you with all my heart.” She looked into his eyes and said, “I love you too, sweetheart… but could you tell me more about Hank Green?”

The Psalms are a constant source of inspiration, and as we study them, we learn they serve different purposes. Like today’s psalm, the ones we share on Sundays are often in praise of God, but there are other Psalms for times when we are scared, angry, sick, and so forth. Perhaps the one that speaks to us most about who we are, who God is, and the relationship we share is Psalm 139.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
    you discern my thoughts from afar.

You search out my path and my lying down
    and are acquainted with all my ways. 

The final two verses of the Psalm make a request to God.

Search me, O God, and know my heart!
    Try me and know my thoughts!

And see if there be any grievous way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting!

(Psalm 139:1-3, 23-24)

Reading those words, the question I might ask, especially of myself, is, “Do I really want God to do that?” I mean, I know my heart, and sometimes… it’s best left hidden.

We know that within Judaism there is the Law. It has existed since the days of Moses. For the devout Jew, the Law of Moses governs every aspect of their life. Practicing it properly is good; however, the way the Law was practiced in Jesus’ time was often a major issue. The truth is, the problem goes back much further than that.

We will learn more about this when we begin our study of Isaiah next week, but in the first chapter, Isaiah, on behalf of the Lord, writes,

Bring no more vain offerings;
    incense is an abomination to me.
New moon and Sabbath and the calling of convocations—
    I cannot endure iniquity and solemn assembly.

Your new moons and your appointed feasts
    my soul hates;
they have become a burden to me;
    I am weary of bearing them.

When you spread out your hands,
    I will hide my eyes from you;
even though you make many prayers,
    I will not listen;
    your hands are full of blood.

Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
    remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes;
cease to do evil,

    learn to do good;
seek justice,
    correct oppression;
bring justice to the fatherless,
    plead the widow’s cause.

(Isaiah 1:13-17)

On the outside, the Israelites and their leaders appear to be doing everything perfectly. On the inside, God has searched them out and knows their hearts, and what He sees displeases Him. Our gospel reading points to the same issue today.

Just before our reading, the Pharisees and scribes come to Jesus and ask, “Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? For they do not wash their hands when they eat.” (Matthew 15:2) In response, Jesus calls them “hypocrites.” (Matthew 15:7) Why? He quotes from Isaiah,

“‘This people honors me with their lips,
    but their heart is far from me;

in vain do they worship me,
    teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.’”

(Matthew 15:8-9)

Now, in our gospel reading, Jesus has just turned from that conversation and faces the people. He says, “Look, it’s not about what goes into the mouth; it’s not crispy fried bacon that makes you a bad person. It’s what comes out of the mouth—it’s what you say, what you believe, your inner dialogue—that’s what makes you bad. Why? Because what comes out of the mouth is from the heart. It is who you truly are. And understand, they did not need to speak these things for God to know them. The Psalm declares, God “knows the secrets of the heart.” (Psalm 44:21b)

“Johnny, sweetheart, I love you so much, but could you tell me a little more about Hank?” You see how that works. What’s in the heart?

The next scene in our Gospel appears to be such an abrupt change in setting and conversation that it is difficult to see how they are related. However, they are intimately connected. The first is the teaching, and the second, with the Canaanite woman, is the application.

The beginning of the second part appears to provide only geographic information, but it is, in fact, the clue to our understanding. (As we said before, the writers of Holy Scripture do not waste words. There is a meaning in them all.) Matthew 15:21 states, “Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon.”

Early on, in the understanding of the law of Moses, the Israelites were told not to make a covenant with or marry the Gentiles. Easy enough. However, over time, those laws became even stricter as they were interpreted and reinterpreted. Over generations, those commands were surrounded by traditions intended to preserve Israel’s holiness and identity. The separation could become so profound that Peter would later say to the Gentile Cornelius, “You are well aware that it is against our law for a Jew to associate with or visit a Gentile.” (Acts 10:28). Tyre and Sidon, where Jesus and the disciples go, are Gentile regions. According to the interpretation of the Law, they have essentially broken the Law; at the very least, they have become unclean.

If that’s not bad enough, a Canaanite woman—a Gentile woman—speaks to him. The disciples know what’s what. They know this woman is a dirty Gentile, so they say, “Send her away, as she is crying out after us.” Jesus appears to confirm everything they are saying by responding, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” She responds, “Lord, help me.” Jesus answers, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” She says, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Now hear this. The woman is saying, “Even if what you say is true, what You, Son of David, can give, even if it is a little, only a crumb, will suffice. It will heal.”

Do you remember from a few weeks back when we talked about Jacob wrestling with God until God did what Jacob asked? This woman is doing the same thing. She is wrestling with Jesus. She is wrestling with God, and she will not let Him go until He blesses her and heals her daughter. And as Jacob was blessed, so is she. “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.”

Yes. Good, but now go back to the first part of our Gospel lesson. It is not the following of the Law to the letter that matters. It is not what goes into the mouth that makes a person clean or unclean. It’s what comes out of the mouth, out of the heart, and the Lord knows the heart. Right?

With the Canaanite woman, what came out of the disciples’ mouths? Send her away. She is bothering us. She is a Gentile. They surely agreed with Jesus when he implied she was equal to a dog. What came out of the disciples’ mouths? Prejudice. Contempt. Judgment. Anger. Impatience. On the other hand, what came out of this dog’s mouth? What came out of her heart? “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.” “Lord, help me.” “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” What came out of her mouth? Humility. Perseverance. Submission to God. Faith. Not even the disciples had recognized in Jesus what this Canaanite woman did.

Jesus, God, did not see her as something unclean or beneath Him. He saw her as a human being and saw her heart. What came from her heart expressed her inmost being, and Jesus declared, “Great is your faith.”

By the story of their hearts, the disciples had lumped themselves into the same category as the Pharisees and the scribes—hypocrites. By the story of her heart, the woman showed herself to be a child of God and was blessed.

Question: What is the story of your heart?

The Psalmist wrote,

Search me, O God, and know my heart!
    Try me and know my thoughts!

And see if there be any grievous way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting! 

That is an invitation for God to look into your heart. What is He going to find? Maybe your heart is nothing like mine, but what He is going to find is not always good. However, the words of the Psalmist are not only an invitation. They are also a request. 

“See if there be any grievous way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting!”

“I invite you, Lord, to look into my heart, and if you see anything amiss, lead me out of it and into Your ways, the way of everlasting life.”

That is a good and proper prayer, but I will be honest with you: it is also a scary one. In the Letter to the Hebrews, we read, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” (Hebrews 10:31) On that day in the region of Tyre and Sidon, it happened to the disciples. They fell into the hands of a loving God, and it changed their lives forever.

Let us pray: O God, from whom all good proceeds: Grant that by your inspiration we may think those things that are right, and by your merciful guiding may do them; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

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Sermon (by Emalyn Terry): Proper 14 RCL A1 – “Increase in Love”

Our Youth Sunday was today, and Emalyn Terry was our preacher. She just turned 18, and this was her first sermon.

J.M.J

This morning, id like to start off with a riddle.  I can’t be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two. I can fill a room but take up no space. What am I? The answer is love. 

What comes to mind when we think about love? Maybe Valentine’s Day came to a couple of you; maybe thoughts of spouses, children, wee little babies, and even beloved dogs and cats came up. It’s a powerful feeling, one that has inspired many poems, books, movies, wars, and those infamous voicemails left at 3 in the morning. However, it is one of the first fruits of our spirits that tends to be guarded quite jealously. It is so easy to be quick to shower those near and dear to us with the greatest affections, but it is so hard to extend it to those who just tick us off. For example, how many of you have responded with love to that person talking a little too loud in the movies, or to that darn driver taking a little bit too long to turn? Loving others as ourselves can be a gargantuan task sometimes, so how do we do it? How do we respond with love when the environment around us is just not conducive? 

  The answer can be found within the age-old story of Joseph and his coat of many colors. He was a simple shepherd, favored by his father and envied by his brothers for the dreams he had about reigning as king. Eventually, his eleven brothers just had enough of him; they took off his magnificent cloak and threw him in an empty well. He was sold pretty quickly, was taken to Egypt, and was betrayed yet again by the wife of the pharaoh, who threw him in prison. There he had some dreams concerning the pharaoh, explained them to him, and eventually got let out. His brothers then came down to Egypt due to a great famine, and there they reunited with Joseph. 

Now, if I were him, I would have slammed the door in their faces so hard that they fell over. However, Joseph had other plans. He welcomes them with open arms. In Genesis verse 5, he says, “Now don’t be worried. Don’t be angry with yourselves for what you did. It was God’s plan for me to come here. I am here to save people’s lives.” He even goes on to give them the very best of what he had, decking them out in the finest clothes and filling them up with the finest food. But how was Joseph able to bring himself to even LOOK at them? I mean, they blew up his life in one single day. 

I would like you to notice how Joseph didn’t point out their flaws. He didn’t stand there with a list and rattle off each and every slight that they caused him. He instead looked at the positives of the situation. Instead of being mad at his brothers for hurting him, he instead chose to be glad that his family was there to see him. He saw in them God’s plan for himself, and forgave them with a smile. He led with love first, not even giving a chance for hatred to take hold. 

Another example of this radical forgiveness born out of love would be the story of Jesus. People were absolutely TERRIBLE towards him. They mocked, scorned, abused, and even killed Jesus, but He still forgave them. He pleaded on the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” We were awful towards Him, but He chose to see the good of the world instead of all the bad. He chose to recognize that we could be good, and He believed that we were good, so He went to die on the cross for us. One of the books that I am reading proves exactly that. In this book, the Showings of Julian of Norwich, Jesus appears to an anchoress named Julian on her near-deathbed as she is staring at a crucifix, and gives her multiple visions of Him so that she may contemplate them. 

  In one of these visions, she writes, “Then Jesus our good Lord said: If you are satisfied, I am satisfied. It is a joy, bliss and endless delight to me that ever I suffered my Passion for you; and if I could suffer more, I should suffer more.” (Repeat, “and if I could suffer more, I should suffer more”). He didn’t say “If the chance comes up again, I might get around to it,” or “Yeah, it would be nice to do that again.” He said, “If I could, I should.” He would willingly suffer all of that again out of sheer LOVE and FORGIVENESS towards us. Despite how horridly we treated Him, despite all we did to Him, he would choose to suffer the immeasurable pain of His passion again for us. That is just how radical His mercy truly is. And that, my friends, is how radically loving we must be with others today.

When we lead with this intense mercy and grace for others, it often comes with affection and joy. It becomes easier and easier to see the good in others first, rather than all of their bad. An increase in love for others can grow and expand our hearts greatly. It is, quite literally, the bright rainbow after the flood. If we truly focus on the good of the environment around us, like Joseph and our Father have done, our hearts are more prone to open up to receive those around us with gladness and kindness. 

Now, when we open up our hearts like this, it is in these pockets of true spiritual peace that God’s voice is loudest. A great example of this can be found in today’s reading from the book of Kings. God was not in the great wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in the gentle silence that followed. When we get wrapped up in the tempest of our everyday lives and caught up in our judgment and scorn, it becomes too loud to truly hear Him. As the devotional book The Imitation of Christ states, “Watch over yourself and take care not to judge the actions of other people. We gain nothing by criticizing others, but often are mistaken and thereby offend God. But to judge yourself and your own actions is always profitable.” When we choose to lead with love instead of judgment, we allow ourselves the inner peace to hear God’s voice more clearly than ever before. 

So…how do we get started? We have all the pieces to this puzzle, so how do we put it together? A tip comes from one of my favorite saints, St. Therese of Lisieux, also known as The Little Flower of God. In her autobiography, A Story of a Soul, she maintains that we must “bear with all the defects of our neighbor, not being surprised at his failings and being edified by his least virtue. A word, a kindly smile, will often suffice to gladden a wounded and sorrowful heart.” This does not mean that we just turn a blind eye to all the wrongs that someone has done, but rather acknowledge them and focus on what they have done well. We must figure out a way to turn pesky annoyances into great pleasures. For example, when a fellow sister was making a grating noise during morning prayer, St. Therese did not try to ignore it but instead chose to enjoy it, focusing all she could on it and imagining it to be a delightful concert in offering to Jesus. By just choosing to lead with love, she was able to transform that flaw into something beautiful. 

Now, I know this is easier said than done, as I am on this journey myself. I used to be a very irritable person. Every little thing just ticked me off, and I would let people know. I was quick with my judgment, and even quicker to sling a little trash talk here and there; I was a hot mess for sure. However, I never felt whole. I always felt like there was a little part that was missing in my life, a part that led to my happiness. I tried finding it in books, movies, video games, but it just wasn’t showing up. My situation was getting worse, in fact, and things were getting pretty dark. This was when I knew I had to change. I knew that if I stayed down the road I was going, I wasn’t going to last. 

This was when I stumbled upon A Story of a Soul. In that touching autobiography, she lit up the way for me. I mean, she spoke so delightfully about giving others grace and choosing to see all the good in other people that I just had to give it a go. That’s when I found it. I found that piece that was missing from my heart all that time. The name of that piece was “mercy.” By granting others mercy, by choosing to turn annoyances into pleasures, by choosing to love others radically, I found I was happier than I had ever been before. 

It is important to remember, however, that this kind of mercy is a journey. I mean, I still stumble and fall sometimes. It takes a lot to choose kindness these days. However, it takes a lot more strength and courage to fight negativity than it does to wallow in it. After all, in the words of the Little Flower: “Merit does not consist in doing or giving much. It consists in loving much.” When we get back up after we fall into judgment, when we grit our teeth and give a smile to that screaming kid in the restaurant, we are earning ourselves much merit. We are also choosing peace for ourselves and overall happiness. By choosing to compliment the shirt of the guy that’s giving you a hard time, by choosing to focus on the pretty color of the car that just cut you off, you are choosing peace. You are choosing joy. You are choosing God. 

I would like to end with a sweet little prayer from Saint Francis of Assisi. Let us pray. 

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”

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Sermon: Proper 13 RCL A – “Providence and Prayer”

A story is told about a 3-year-old boy who went to the grocery store with his mother. Before they entered the store, she told him, “Now you’re not going to get any chocolate chip cookies, so don’t even ask.” She put him in the cart, and he sat in the little child’s seat while she wheeled down the aisles. He was doing just fine until they came to the cookie section. He saw the chocolate chip cookies, stood up in the seat, and said, “Mom, can I have some chocolate chip cookies?” She said, “I told you not even to ask. You’re not going to get any at all.” So he sat back down. They continued down the aisles, but in their search for certain items, they ended up back in the cookie aisle. “Mom, can I please have some chocolate chip cookies?” She said, “I told you that you can’t have any. Now sit down and be quiet.” Finally, they were approaching the checkout lane. The little boy sensed that this might be his last chance. So just before they got to the line, he stood up on the seat of the cart and shouted in his loudest voice, “In the name of Jesus, may I have some chocolate chip cookies?” And everybody round about just laughed. Some even applauded. Due to the generosity of the other shoppers, the little boy and his mother left with twenty-three boxes of chocolate chip cookies.

Ever wondered what your life would be like if God answered your prayers exactly as you prayed them? There have been times when I wish He would: “Lord, please let me win the lottery so I can prove to you that it won’t spoil me.” But there have also been so many other prayers that would have ended miserably if they had been answered. However, I suppose it is a moot point, because it seems to me that God doesn’t answer too many of our prayers, and when He does, it certainly isn’t in the way we asked. Consider Jacob, whom we read about this morning.

Jacob wronged his brother Esau. Not only did Jacob purchase Esau’s birthright with a cup of stew, but he also tricked his father and stole Esau’s blessing. In his anger, Esau said, “The days of mourning for my father are near; then I will kill my brother Jacob.” (Genesis 27:42) To resolve the issue, Jacob ran away. He was gone for twenty years, and today we read about his return home with his two wives and all his possessions.

They camped on the Jabbok River, and that night, when he was alone, Jacob spoke with and wrestled with a heavenly being. Whether it was an angel or God, we do not learn here, but the Prophet Hosea wrote, “He struggled with the angel and overcame him; he wept and begged for his favor.” (Hosea 12:4a)

The Church, looking at the event in light of Hosea’s statement, has long understood Jacob’s wrestling with God as an image of persevering prayer, for Jacob struggled with God and would not let him go until he received God’s blessing. However, what should be noted is that Jacob did receive the blessing, but not before God gave him a busted hip and a new name—Israel. Jacob had his prayer answered, but not in the way he asked for. Jacob prayed for something very specific and personal, and God answered the prayer, but not just for Jacob. God answered Jacob’s prayer for everyone, us included. How?

The Lord blessed Jacob/Israel and also gave him twelve sons, one of whom was Judah. Several generations later in Israel’s lineage, there was a king, David. Many more generations and years later, there was a man named Joseph, whom another angel of the Lord spoke to: “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:20b-21)

Jacob prayed, “Bless me,” and the Lord replied, “What you are asking is good, but it is too small. I will bless you, but it’s not going to look like anything you could have ever imagined. Oh, and I’m also going to give you a busted hip so that you remember it.”

Last week we talked about God’s providence; we concluded that we do not believe things come about by luck or chance, nor do we believe the ways of the world have been set on a path of fate from which nothing deviates.

We are a people who believe in God’s providence, defined as God’s wise, loving, and continual governance of all creation, by which He sustains the universe and directs history toward His good purposes while respecting our free will. God takes the good, the bad, and the ugly and uses them for His purposes.

During this past week, I’ve continued to reflect on that, and I’ve been wondering how our prayers work within God’s providence. My question was, if God has this big, beautiful plan worked out in His providence, then what good are my prayers? Why pray?

The easy answer is that Jesus tells us we should pray, and He sets the example for us. But in addition, prayer enlarges our souls so that we might be able to receive more of God.

Imagine you have a teaspoon and a five-gallon bucket. You take them both to the beach and fill them in the ocean. Neither the teaspoon nor the five-gallon bucket diminishes the ocean; however, the five-gallon bucket can receive more. Now, think of God as the ocean. Through our connection and immersion in God, and even through our desires, our souls are enlarged, and we are able to receive more.

We pray because we are told we should, and we pray because it allows us to receive more of God. Those two reasons are fairly straightforward; however, the third reason is more complicated but also more exciting.

When we pray, we are most often looking for a particular result. “Lord, I need ____.” Even when prayed rightly, we focus on the outcome, but what if our prayer were more about communion with God than the result? What if God is saying, “I want you to pray, I want you to pray so that you can receive more of me, but I also want you to pray so that you can be a part of this great work”? This is what St. Paul means when he writes, “We are God’s fellow workers. You are God’s field, God’s building.” (1 Corinthians 3:9) God says, “I want you to pray, asking for anything, and like with Jacob who wanted to be blessed, I’m going to take your prayer, your work, and incorporate it into something greater than you could ever ask for or imagine.”

Do our prayers matter? Are they answered? Yes. It’s just that we don’t know how to pray properly. St. Paul teaches us, “The Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” (Romans 8:26-27) Our prayers matter, but we don’t know how to pray properly, so the Lord, in His loving care, takes our feeble attempts and perfects them. What does that look like?

I pray to win the lottery, and God says, “No, but through your prayers and your work in My kingdom, I will store up treasures for you in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal” (Matthew 6:20b). You pray for healing, and God says, “Yes, but too small; I’ll take your prayer and weave it into Providence. I won’t just heal you and fix you up for a few more years, but I’ll prepare you for the resurrection and eternal life, and even more, I’ll give eternal life to all those who believe in me.” We pray, “Lord, relieve me of my suffering,” and God says, “I can do that, but My greater purpose is to teach you about My Son.” We say, “But Lord, it hurts.” And just when we begin to think He’s not going to answer, we discover that He is sitting with us in that deep darkness, speaking comfort, perhaps not to our physical bodies but to our souls.

We offer up our prayers; they matter, and God hears. God says, “I will take your prayer and perfect it. Along the way, you may get twenty-three boxes of chocolate chip cookies, or, like Jacob, you may get a busted hip or worse. Also like Jacob, you may see your prayer answered today, or tomorrow, or in fifty years, or never, but you and I will be in communion with one another. You and I will be working together, and in the end, you and I will be together, for that too is part of My providence and is, in fact, the ultimate goal.”

The Psalmist writes,

The Lord frustrates the designs of the nations,
he defeats the plans of the peoples.
His own designs shall stand for ever,
the plans of his heart from age to age.

They are happy, whose God is the Lord,
the people he has chosen as his own.
From the heavens the Lord looks forth,
he sees all the children of men.

From the place where he dwells he gazes
on all the dwellers on the earth,
he who shapes the hearts of them all
and considers all their deeds.

(Psalm 33:10-15)

Let us pray (a prayer of St. Ignatius): Take, Lord, receive all our liberties, our memories, our understandings, our whole will, all that we have and all that we possess. You gave it all to us, Lord; we give it all back to you. Do with it as you will, according to your good pleasure. Give us your love and your grace; for with this we have all that we need. Amen.

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Sermon: Mary and Martha

Christ in the house of Martha and Mary, by Henryk Siemiradzki, 1886

An archaeologist once hired some tribesmen to lead him to an archaeological site deep in the mountains. After they had been moving for some time, the tribesmen stopped and insisted they would go no further. The archaeologist grew impatient, then angry. But no matter how much he cajoled, the tribesmen would not go any further. Then, all of a sudden, the tribesmen changed their attitude. They picked up the gear and set off once more. When the bewildered archaeologist asked why they had stopped and refused to move for so long, the tribesmen answered, “We had been moving too fast and had to wait for our souls to catch up.”

Thomas Merton, in his book No Man is an Island, wrote, “We cannot be happy if we expect to live all the time at the highest peak of intensity. Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony.

“Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alternation of sound and silence there would be no rhythm. If we strive to be happy by filling all the silences of life with sound, productive by turning all life’s leisure into work, and real by turning all our being into doing, we will only succeed in producing a hell on earth.” (No Man is an Island, 134)

I believe this is part of the message of Mary and Martha. We are always Martha. We are always running here and there, making lists of where we need to run here and there next, and planning the list of the next here and there. Yet, in the midst of here and there, we must find the space between the notes, the silence, and rest at the feet of Jesus as Mary did.

Even the great Saints of God must find times of silence to stop and allow their souls to catch up. You and I are no different. We must find a balance – and it is different for each of us – that allows us to carry on with the mission of Christ’s church and our state of life, while at the same time receiving the grace and renewal that come from God. 

This time of silence or rest, when assigned to a day, is known as the Sabbath. In his book The Sabbath, Abraham Joshua Heschel writes, “In defense of the Sabbath, Philo, the spokesman of the Greek-speaking Jews of Alexandria, says: this day we are commanded to abstain from all work, not because the law inculcates slackness. … Its object is rather to give man relaxation from continuous and unending toil and by refreshing their bodies with a regularly calculated system of remissions to send them out renewed to their old activities. For a breathing spell enables not merely ordinary people but athletes also to collect their strength with a stronger force behind them to undertake promptly and patiently each of the tasks set before them.” (The Sabbath, 13)

That is the Sabbath as a day, but it can also be understood as a time during the day set aside for the renewal of the soul, which the soul also needs. Again, from Thomas Merton and the analogy of music, “If we have no silence, God is not heard in our music. If we have no rest, God does not bless our work. If we twist our lives out of shape in order to fill every corner of them with action and experience, God will silently withdraw from our hearts and leave us empty.”

“Let us, therefore, learn to pass from one imperfect activity to another without worrying too much about what we are missing.” (No Man is an Island, 134)

Regardless of how busy you think you are or how busy you actually are, we must all find balance and make time to be Mary and sit at the feet of Jesus.

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Sermon: Proper 11 RCL A – “Identifying Weeds”

Charlie Brown rests his head in his hands while leaning against the wall. He looks miserable when his friend Lucy approaches. “Discouraged again, eh, Charlie Brown?” Charlie Brown does not even answer. “You know what your trouble is?” Lucy asks. Without waiting for a response, she announces, “The trouble with you is that you are you!” Charlie Brown says, “Well, what in the world can I do about that?” Lucy replies, “I don’t pretend to be able to give advice. I merely point out the trouble!”

Lucy demonstrates a human failing that has truly plagued us from the beginning. According to our assessment, ___ is the trouble. After this determination has been made and solidified in our minds, we decide that something must be done about ___. However, this is not how the Lord would have us operate.

The Lord, speaking through the Prophet Isaiah, describes a great leader. He says,

Thus says the Lord to his anointed…
whose right hand I have grasped,
to subdue nations before him
and to loose the belts of kings,
to open doors before him
that gates may not be closed.
(Isaiah 45:1)

Of this anointed one, the Lord declares:

I have stirred him up in righteousness,
and I will make all his ways level;
he shall build my city
and set my exiles free,
not for price or reward,”
says the Lord of hosts.
(Isaiah 45:13)

One clue to the person’s identity is the title “anointed.” That word can also be translated as “messiah.” From this, you might think the Lord is speaking of one of the great Israelite heroes: David, Gideon, or Esther. Or perhaps we might think the Lord is talking about Jesus, but as it turns out, the Lord is actually speaking of a pagan king, a worshiper of idols, and a believer in false gods.

For roughly 70 years, the Israelites had been in exile in Babylon after being conquered. However, as with all empires, the next one is already on deck, waiting for its turn to dominate the world scene. Enter Persia, and the anointed one whom God was praising: Cyrus.

Cyrus conquered the Israelites’ enemy, the Babylonians, and then set the Israelites free. Free to return home and rebuild Jerusalem and the temple. Free to worship the one true God. Cyrus did these things and much more for the Israelites, even though he himself was not a believer.

The Israelites would have looked at Cyrus and been appalled by the kind of person he was. When Isaiah told them who their messiah would be, they were. Even so, the Lord looked at Cyrus and said,

I will give you the treasures of darkness
and the hoards in secret places,
that you may know that it is I, the Lord,
the God of Israel, who call you by your name.
(Isaiah 45:3)

Today in our gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the wheat and the weeds. A farmer sends out his servants to scatter wheat seeds. However, at night, when no one is watching, an enemy comes in and scatters weed seeds. Everyone believes all is well until the plants begin to mature. It is then that the weeds are discovered.

There is widespread agreement that the weed in question was Darnel, a poisonous grass. I am no farmer, but apparently, the wheat plant and the Darnel weed are nearly identical when young. It is not until the wheat begins to form its head of grain that the problem is identified. Yet by this time, the wheat and the Darnel have been growing side by side long enough that their root systems are intertwined. If you pull up the Darnel, the wheat will come with it. Therefore, the farmer tells his servants to wait until the harvest before doing anything about the problem.

Jesus uses this parable to describe the world around us, and the church fathers have gone one step further, saying it also describes the church—the righteous and the unrighteous growing together side by side. The rub is that, like the farmer’s servants, we are unable to tell the difference between wheat and weed, the righteous and the unrighteous, the evil. Like Lucy, we are remarkably confident in our ability to diagnose everyone who is a problem. However, I suspect that Jesus is rarely pleased with our diagnoses.

Many Israelites, if they had heard Jesus’ parable, could have easily looked at Cyrus and said, “That man is a weed. He needs to be pulled up and cast into the fire.” Yet God looked at Cyrus and said, “You are my anointed.”

Saint Augustine wrote, “How many sheep are outside, how many wolves within! And how many sheep are inside, how many wolves without!… How many are blaspheming Christ who will yet believe in Him!… In like manner, how many are praising within who will yet blaspheme.” (Tractate 45.12)

We see this problem throughout scripture. Think of Saint Paul. He began as one of the church’s greatest persecutors. He was present when St. Stephen was stoned to death and approved of it. Even after his conversion, the young church looked at him with great fear. They saw him as a weed or a wolf. Yet God looked at Paul and saw the Apostle to the Gentiles.

You and I lack the knowledge and ability to know who is righteous and who is not. As for pulling weeds, that particular job is above our pay grade. Jesus said, “Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire.” There will come a day when the wheat and the weeds will be separated. There will come a day of judgment, but that judgment and the casting of the weeds into the fire will not be accomplished by us. It will be accomplished by God’s holy angels.

Now, please don’t think I’m saying those who do wrong shouldn’t be punished or locked up. I’m not saying that at all. I am saying that we can’t truly know a person or their final outcome. Therefore, we must allow the wheat and the weeds to grow side by side until the Lord sends His workers to bring in the crop.

So what are we to do when we believe the evil, the enemy, is near? We must recall and practice what Paul teaches: “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ To the contrary, ‘if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:17-21) When you see evil, a person you believe to be a weed, do not allow their sin to cause you to sin. The enemy of us all has won if you do.

Can this be frustrating? Absolutely. Don’t we all want to go out and yank a few weeds? I’d wager each of you just imagined someone you’d go after first. Yet Jesus is calling us to walk a different way, the way He walked. Why? For there were many who looked at Him and saw a weed that needed pulling, even though He was here for their salvation. Yet they condemned Him and nailed Him to a cross. Did they believe they were doing evil? No. They thought they were clearing God’s field of just one more weed. Instead… they crucified the Lord of the harvest.

Our job is not to go around trying to identify weeds, and most certainly not to pull those we believe we have identified. Our job is to go where Jesus has led the way, to take up our cross and follow Him so that we may also bring glory to our Father in Heaven.

Let us pray:
Lord, enlighten our understanding,
Strengthen our will,
Purify our hearts,
and make us holy.
Help us to repent of our past sins
And to resist temptation in the future.
Help us to rise above our human weaknesses
And to grow stronger as a Christian.
Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 10 RCL A – “Soil”

As most of you are aware, Chocolate Mint Ice Cream is an abomination unto the Lord. For those who disagree, I’ve come across some really interesting statistics that prove this point and why it should be banned forthwith. Nearly all sick people have eaten Chocolate Mint Ice Cream at least once in their lives. An estimated 99.9% of people who die from cancer and heart disease have eaten Chocolate Mint Ice Cream. 99.9% of people involved in car crashes ate Chocolate Mint Ice Cream. 93.1% of juvenile delinquents come from homes where Chocolate Mint Ice Cream has been served. Among people born in 1839 who later ate Chocolate Mint Ice Cream, there has been a 100% mortality rate. Given the interpretation of these facts, I rest my case. 

One of my first jobs out of college was as a Statistical Analyst. I was terrible at math, but once someone gave me the right number, I could make it say and do whatever you would like. The example above is not among my better works. One of the difficulties with Holy Scripture is that we can do the same thing with it. Depending on who you ask, you’ll get all sorts of interpretations of even a single verse. However, today Jesus said, “Not so fast,” and, in a rare instance, told us what he meant.

The soil represents the heart. The birds snatching the seed away represent the devil, who snatches the Good News from the heart of one who hears it before they have the opportunity to grow and flourish. The seed that fell on rocky ground represents one who hears the word of God and believes at first, but has no depth and therefore withers and dies, producing no fruit. The seed that fell among the thorns is like one who hears the word of God, but everything going on around them is so overwhelming that they are choked off. Finally, there is the seed that fell on good ground. It grows. It flourishes. It produces. The Word of God grows within the good soil, within the heart of the believer.

If we are ones in whom the seed has been planted in good soil, then we may wonder what this parable has to do with us. It seems to be only about those who have not yet come to faith. But we know that scripture is multivalent, that is, it has many levels, so not only does this parable speak to those who have not yet come to faith, but it also speaks to the believer. Why? Because at this moment, your heart may be good and producing good fruit, but what about when you leave here? The heart is as temperamental and erratic as the Queen, my crazy cat.

Example: You leave here today and, in your heart, feel the presence of God. You feel at peace, and my goodness, what an amazing sermon that was! It’s all good! Then you head home. When you get home, you discover that the water line on the washing machine has decided to blow out, and when you open the front door, you find everything in the house floating in about four inches of water. In that instant, that bird, the enemy of God’s people, snatches the good fruit, the good work that has happened, right out of your heart.

Or, come Monday morning, having just finished your prayer, you know in your heart that God really heard you. Soon afterward, the dog starts barking, and, given the time of day, you know it’s the mail lady. You go out and greet her with a smile; she hands you a few letters, returning the smile, and says, “Oh. I wonder what the bank wants?” You open it, and stamped in bold red ink across the mortgage payment are the words “Insufficient Funds.” It’s only the 11th of the month. What am I going to do? The worries of the world, like that thorn bush growing in the field, just choked the joy of God right out of your soul. 

The soil of the heart is temperamental and erratic; however, it doesn’t always change as quickly as all that. At other times, it changes more slowly, like the seasons of the year.

I’m not sure if it is the case in Oklahoma, but in western Montana, if you do any digging, you will soon discover the ground is full of rocks. Anyone who cuts hay or gardens knows that one of the first chores in spring is to go out into those fields and “pick rocks.” If you are uninitiated, it may seem that someone has played a dirty trick on you by throwing rocks onto your land, but what has happened is that the rocks have worked their way to the surface. 

It is counterintuitive. The rocks should sink because they are heavier than dirt. Yet the soil settles downward, so the rocks rise to the surface. Those who like to garden know that you regularly have to clear the ground of the rocks that have worked their way up, or you’ll end up with a field full of rocks and busted equipment.

The soil of our hearts works in a similar way. The seed, that is, the Word of God, is planted. When it finds good soil, it will grow and produce good fruit. However, if you do nothing to tend the soil, over time the rocks will work their way to the surface, and the once-fertile soil becomes rocky. It has no depth and can no longer support life. The same is true of weeds and thorn bushes. If you don’t tend the soil regularly, weeds and thorns begin to encroach on the good soil and can eventually choke it off, leaving it unfit for growing anything.

St. Paul wrote, “To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.” St. Josemaria Escriva put it this way, “The world, the devil, and the flesh are a band of adventurers who take advantage of the weakness of that savage you have within you. In exchange for the poor bauble of pleasure [that is the world] which is worth nothing, they want you to hand over to them the pure gold and the pearls, the diamonds and the rubies, drenched in the living and redeeming blood of your God—the price and the treasure of your eternity.” 

The world, the devil, and the flesh want to destroy the good soil of your heart, whether when the seed is first planted or over time. The enemies of God seek to bring death to places where God has sown life. As Peter says, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8) So how do we defend ourselves? 

The answer begins and ends with God. We pray, “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” We are asking for God’s protection over our lives and, more importantly, over our hearts. God is faithful to His promises. The question is whether we will cooperate with His grace. Yes, there are random things, like broken water lines, that we can’t control and that work against us, but for the most part, we can handle them. It stinks, but call a plumber. The bigger problem is us. We tend to worry when we should pray. We tend to get angry when we should let something go. We tend to treat our relationship with God on an as-needed basis rather than seeking to maintain and strengthen it daily.

We defend ourselves against the world, the devil, and the flesh by asking the Lord our God to continue in that love and care. But as we do, we can’t be shooting ourselves in the foot and then ask God why it happened. We can’t say, “Oh, Lord! I’ve got this big hole in my foot. Yes, I pointed the gun and pulled the trigger, but Lord, why did you let that happen?” Free will is a beautiful thing, but it comes with responsibility and consequences. 

St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Philippians: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12b). Salvation is from God, unearned and freely given. And notice, Paul doesn’t say, “Work for your salvation…” He says, “Work out your salvation…” We are not working to earn God’s free gift. So Paul is saying, work out this gift, hold on to it, and nurture it with deep reverence and holy seriousness. God has done and will continue to do His part, but if you want to produce good fruit and not have it stolen, withered, or choked off, you must engage and be vigilant in tending the good soil of your heart.

Our Father has planted a seed in the good soil of your heart. Guard that soil. Tend it. Water it. Keep it clear of predators and of anything that does not belong. Then produce fruit worthy of God’s glory.

Let us pray: Lord, if what we seek be according to our will, then let it come to pass and let success attend the outcome. But if not, Dear Lord, let it not come to pass. Do not leave us to our own devices, for you know how unwise we can be. Keep us safe under your protection, Lord our God, and in your own gentle way, guide us and rule us as you know best. Amen.

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Sermon: Benedict

Frari (Venice) – Sacristy – triptych by Giovanni Bellini – Saint Benedict of Nursia and Saint Mark

In our reading to the Philippians, Paul said, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” So, if I were to ask you, how would you say you are working out your salvation?

Some may have a good plan, while others take the Hail Mary approach.  Not the Hail Mary prayer, but the Hail Mary play in football, when you are at the end of the game and behind, so you make one last play and hope you come down with a score.  I suspect most fall somewhere in between, but Benedict of Nursia worked out his salvation with a particular Rule.  You know it as the Rule of St. Benedict, written around the year 530 A.D.  

The Rule has five significant dimensions: silence, prayer, humility, manual labor, and obedience.  These can all be studied in depth, but since our time is limited, I would like to focus on humility.  In chapter seven of the Rule, Benedict outlines twelve degrees of true humility. He presents them as a ladder, referencing the ladder Jacob saw in a dream, on which the angels of heaven ascended and descended.  Each degree, each rung of the ladder, brings you closer to heaven.  He begins:

“The first degree of humility, then, is that a person keep the fear of God before his eyes and beware of ever forgetting it. Let him be ever mindful of all that God has commanded; let his thoughts constantly recur to the hell-fire which will burn for their sins those who despise God, and to the life everlasting which is prepared for those who fear him.”

The following eleven degrees read similarly.  Briefly, they are:

  • Doing the will of the Father over our own.
  • Complete obedience in submitting to superiors.
  • Remain patient, even in the face of injustice.
  • Confession of every sin and every evil thought to the Abbott of the monastery.
  • Be content under even the worst of circumstances.
  • Consider yourself to be the lowest of all.
  • Follow the Rule.
  • Keep silent unless questioned by a superior.
  • Do not be quick to laugh.
  • When you speak, do so quietly with as few words as necessary.
  • To be humble not only in heart but in appearance.

Having climbed this ladder and passed through these levels, Benedict states that the monk will no longer fear Hell but will instead experience total love for Christ.

Returning to your own rule of life, have you begun to climb such a ladder?  Perhaps not as prescribed by Benedict, but have you set before yourself an intentional path that will help you develop a deeper relationship with God and lead you into greater holiness, so that you may grow in His image?  If yes, good.  Keep it up.  If not, I can commend the Rule of St. Benedict, even if you only generally seek to incorporate those five significant dimensions – silence, prayer, humility, manual labor, and obedience – into your daily life. 

In Book 1, Chapter 19 of The Imitation of Christ, Thomas à Kempis writes, “Not everyone can have the same devotion. One exactly suits this person, another that. Likewise, different exercises are suitable for different times, some for feast days and others again for weekdays. In times of temptation, we need certain devotions. For days of rest and peace, we need others. Some are suitable when we are sad, others when we are joyful in the Lord.”

The Rule of St. Benedict may not be for you, but it points to our need for an intentional, daily encounter with God so that we may work out our salvation.  Therefore, I encourage you to develop one for your own life so that you may grow in the Lord’s wisdom, knowledge, and love.

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Sermon: Proper 9 RCL A – “In God We Trust”

Of all the places to begin a sermon, a cooking recipe seems like a far reach…but things happen. The recipe I have in mind was written about 50 years or so before the birth of Jesus. The author? The Roman poet Virgil. What is the recipe for? Pesto.

Virgil was writing down a recipe for pesto, but I suppose, being a poet and all, he couldn’t just say, “Add four cloves of garlic, so many leaves of basil, and half a cup of olive oil.” No, that would not do. And he certainly wouldn’t say, “Mash it all together until you have a green paste.” Instead, Virgil wrote, “They one by one do lose/Their proper powers, and out of many comes/A single colour, not entirely green…”

In Latin, “out of many, a single color” is color est e pluribus unus. If we shorten that and add proper grammar, we have the phrase e pluribus unum, which the founding fathers added to the Great Seal of the United States in 1782. Therefore, the de facto national motto of the United States of America did not speak of how great and mighty a nation we were. Instead, it essentially declared that we, as the United States of America, are a salad—a bunch of ingredients, tossed together and pounded into something new and tasty.

It was the unofficial official motto and remained in place until 1956, when it officially changed. You can blame that change on the Soviet Union and the Cold War.

In the USSR, if there was a state religion, it was atheism, and the leaders of our nation looked for many ways to distinguish the USA from them. One of those ways was changing the de facto motto from e pluribus unum to In God We Trust. Unlike the battle cry of the Crusaders, “Deus vult” (God wills it), “In God We Trust” was meant to be a humble recognition of our reliance on a loving God. It is the kind of reliance and trust that the Psalmist speaks of.

Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
They collapse and fall,
but we rise and stand upright. (Psalm 20:7-8)

So, my question to you on this day, when our nation is 250 years old and one day is this: We declare In God We Trust, but do we really, corporately and individually, or is it just like when we slap our money down on the counter and say, In God We Trust, and here’s 100 bucks in case that doesn’t work out?

Understand, the question is not about belief or faith. I’m not asking whether you believe in God or have faith in God. I’m asking whether you trust God. Isaiah shows the problem clearly.

Hezekiah was king of Judah around 700 BC. He is considered one of the better kings; however, there were several major problems, none of which was their belief in God. The first chapter of Isaiah clearly shows that they were still practicing their religion. Yet God is tired of it because they outwardly serve him while inwardly they are corrupt.

What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?
says the Lord;
I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams
and the fat of well-fed beasts;
I do not delight in the blood of bulls,
or of lambs, or of goats.
When you come to appear before me,
who has required of you
this trampling of my courts? (Isaiah 1:11-12)

That is the first problem. They do everything they are supposed to do, but in short, they are not practicing what they preach.

The second major problem is that they do not trust God. They believe in God, but they do not trust him.

At the time, the Assyrians were the dominant power, and to keep on good terms with them and avoid complete conquest, the nations paid tribute. However, when there was a shift in power in Assyria, Hezekiah and his royal court sought to free themselves from Assyrian rule and attempted to form an alliance with Egypt. The Lord says through Isaiah, “Don’t be stupid.”

Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help
and rely on horses,
who trust in chariots because they are many
and in horsemen because they are very strong,
but do not look to the Holy One of Israel
or consult the Lord!
The Egyptians are man, and not God,
and their horses are flesh, and not spirit. (Isaiah 31:1, 3a)

Yet it wasn’t until the Assyrian army had conquered all of Judah and stood outside the gates of Jerusalem that Hezekiah repented and truly trusted in God. He prayed, “O Lord our God, save us from his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you alone are the Lord.” (Isaiah 37:20)

Hezekiah believed in the Lord, and Hezekiah trusted in the Lord, and the Lord, for his part, sent one of his angels: “The angel of the Lord went out and struck down 185,000 in the camp of the Assyrians. And when people arose early in the morning, behold, these were all dead bodies.” (Isaiah 37:36)

At the end of our gospel reading today, Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Many understand this yoke to be the type designed for two animals that would pull as a team. From this, we can picture ourselves yoked to Jesus, and with Him, we can complete the work. It is a good message, and I have preached it myself. However, this is more of a contemporary understanding of the passage. Not wrong, but perhaps there is a better understanding.

Consider what Jesus said just a short time before: “Whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 10:38) These are actions required of the individual. This is what it means to be his disciple: do what the master did. Therefore, to take Jesus’ yoke upon us is another way of saying this. We all wear a yoke of some kind—the yoke of sin, self, and fear. Jesus is saying to set those aside and take up His yoke of righteousness, forgiveness, and eternal life. Take up His yoke of discipleship. In our attempt to do as He asks, we face the same question Hezekiah and the Israelites faced: Do you trust God?

Do you trust God enough to set aside sin, to set aside the things of the world, to set aside self, your will, and your ego? I know you believe in Jesus. I don’t think you would be here if you didn’t, but do you trust him enough to remove all those yokes and put on his?

In God we trust. That can either be lip service or a way of life. Take on the yoke of Jesus and walk with God. The author of Proverbs writes,

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
Be not wise in your own eyes;
fear the Lord, and turn away from evil.
It will be healing to your flesh
and refreshment to your bones. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

Trust in the Lord, and you will find healing and refreshment; you will find rest for your soul, for His burden is light.

Let us pray (a deeply honest prayer from Thomas Merton):
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though
I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Amen.

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Sermon: Peter and Paul

“Saints Peter and Paul in a vestibule,” etching by Rombout Eynhoudts after Peter Paul Rubens, circa 1630-80 (Metropolitan Museum of Art)

After his resurrection, Jesus appeared to his disciples on several occasions. Toward the end of Luke’s Gospel, we hear of the disciples on the road to Emmaus:

That same day, two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them, but they were kept from recognizing him. He asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”

Later, in the Acts of the Apostles, we read that Jesus appeared to Paul as he was on the road to Damascus:

“Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

“Who are you, Lord?” Saul asked.

“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,” he replied. “Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.”

The men traveling with Saul stood there speechless; they heard the sound but did not see anyone. Saul got up from the ground, but he could see nothing when he opened his eyes.

The Gospels record several instances when Jesus appeared to Peter. Today we read of his restoration. There is also a legend of Jesus appearing to Peter many years later.

Peter eventually made his way to Rome, and after a time, one of the persecutions of the Christian church began. The legend picks up:

His friends, so runs the story, had entreated the Apostle to save his life by leaving the city. Peter finally consented, but on the condition that he should go away alone. But when he wished to pass the city gate, he saw Christ meeting him. Falling down in adoration, he said to Him, ‘Lord, whither goest Thou?’ And Christ replied, ‘I am coming to Rome to be again crucified.’ And Peter said to Him, ‘Lord, wilt Thou again be crucified?’ And the Lord said to him, ‘Even so, I will again be crucified.’ Peter said to Him, ‘Lord, I will return and will follow Thee.’ And with these words, the Lord ascended into Heaven.

The encounter on the road out of Rome gave Peter the courage to return to Rome and face his death, which Jesus also spoke of in our Gospel: “When you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” You will stretch out your hands—you will be crucified.

Today, I have a question for you. Three different encounters and three different roads. Jesus asked, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?” Jesus asked, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Jesus said, “I am coming to Rome to be again crucified.”

Now imagine, if you will: you are walking down an old dirt road in Oklahoma. It is pleasantly warm, the sun is beginning to set, and you are at peace, simply enjoying your time, when you encounter Jesus. You say a little prayer: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

What does Jesus ask you? What does he say?

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