Tag: Episcopal

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Sermon: Proper 25 RCL C – “Distorted Image”

Photo by João Ferrão on Unsplash

A rural middle school in Northwest Florida was recently faced with a unique problem. A new fad arose amongst the 8th-grade girls with the use of lipstick. They began bringing, sharing, and trading with their friends to try out all the latest styles and shades. The gathering point for this activity was one specific bathroom at the school. That was fine, but after they tried out all of these lipsticks, they would press their lips to the mirror, leaving dozens of lip prints every day.

Every night the custodian had to clean them off, but the next day the girls would put more lip prints on the mirror. Finally, the principal decided that something had to be done. So class by class, the principal paraded 8th-grade girls to the bathroom to meet with the custodian.

She explained that all these lip prints were causing a major problem for the custodian who had to clean the mirrors every night. To drive the point home, she asked the custodian to demonstrate to the girls what a pain it was for him to clean the mirrors. He took out a long-handled squeegee, dipped it in the toilet, and began cleaning off the lipstick. After repeating the process a few times, the mirror was clean. There was no more lipstick problem.

You have probably noticed that we’ve been remodeling the bathrooms. Many thanks to Sharon, Dora, Jackie, Gina, and Michael for all the work they’ve put in on this. There are a few more things to be done, but we’re close now. One of the last items will be the mirrors—one may be in the main women’s but not yet in the others. I told Gina the other day, “It may be a vanity thing, but it seems rather odd to walk into a bathroom and not have a mirror.” It’s not like I stand there preening, but it’s nice to make sure there’s nothing stuck in the teeth—I would say check the hair but not much of a problem there.

The odd thing—and perhaps you’ve experienced it also—is that I can look at myself in a mirror and think, “Not too bad,” but then I see a picture of myself, and it’s, “Who in the world…?” As it turns out, there is a bit of science behind it. 

The most familiar image we have of ourselves is the one we see in the mirror. The only problem is that the image in the mirror is reversed, so when we see a picture of our faces, something seems to be a bit “off.” There are differences—although often minor—between the left side of our faces and the right. So, perhaps not consciously, but subconsciously our minds say, “There’s something not right,” and so we end up disliking the pictures of us. You can all run home and try this: take several selfies—smiling, laughing, etc.—then take the same pictures of yourself in the mirror. See which ones you like best. Bottom line: the mirror is a distorted view of what you actually look like to others, but the photograph isn’t the real you either—through the mechanics of photography, distortions appear there also. It is true; the camera adds ten pounds (in my case, about forty!) What it all comes down to is that we really do have a distorted image of ourselves. The person we see is not the person others see.

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’”

In a spiritual sense, the Pharisee looked at himself in the mirror and saw a distorted image of himself. On the other hand, “the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” In a spiritual sense, the tax collector did not rely on what he saw in the mirror. Instead, he looked within and saw his true self—a sinner. Ultimately, it wasn’t what either thought of themselves but what God thought of them. Jesus said, “I tell you, this man—the tax collector—went down to his home justified rather than the other.” The Pharisee was not likely a bad person, but he had fallen into a trap: God had bestowed upon him a great gift, yet instead of always viewing it as a gift, he came to view it as a possession. God had gifted him righteousness and holiness, and the Pharisee came to believe that this righteousness and holiness was his—of himself and not of God.

Luke Timothy Johnson, an outstanding theologian, writes, “What comes from another can so blithely be turned into self-accomplishment… The [Pharisee] is all convoluted comparison and contrast; he can receive no gift because he cannot stop counting his possessions. His prayer is one of peripheral vision. Worse, he assumes God’s role of judge: not only does he enumerate his own claims to being just, but he reminds God of the deficiency of the tax-agent, in case God hadn’t noticed.” (Sacra Pagina: The Gospel of Luke, p.274) 

A gift does become a person’s possession, but regardless, it remains a gift. Take a child playing with their toys. Another child comes along and picks one of them up. What does the first child shout out? “Mine!” Yes. That is a true statement. It is theirs, but in the case of a child, it was a gift from a parent or someone else. The child had no means to gain the gift on their own. God gave the Pharisee the gift of righteousness and holiness, and the Pharisee cried out, “Mine!” In doing so, he created a distorted image of his spiritual self, but God would not be fooled. God saw the true person and was not pleased with what He saw.

We can look in the spiritual mirror and think we’re doing pretty good. In the words of Stuart Smalley, we declare, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me,” when we should instead be standing with our heads bowed in prayer, repeating the words of the tax collector, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” I’m not saying you’re all a bunch of heathen destined for thousands of years in purgatory, but we must step away from the mirror and look within instead of looking out. How do we do this?

Most weeks, we use the Confession of Sin found on page 360 of the Book of Common Prayer. It begins, “Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.” When we use Form VI of the Prayers of the People, we use the confession on page 393: “Have mercy upon us, most merciful Father; in your compassion, forgive us our sins, known and unknown, things done and left undone.” These are considered general confessions. A general recognition that we have sinned, but there are times when we need to make a particular confession, that is, for example, not just saying we have sinned in things left undone, but spending time identifying those times when we chose not to act or speak when we should have. This is what is known as an examination of conscience. It is a very deliberate time when you look within, not to beat yourself up for what you see as shortcomings or failings, but to identify those areas of your life where you can improve so that you can make a particular confession, not just one in general; and then, through the amendment of life, seek to make the necessary changes of character. In doing so, we will again recognize the holiness and righteousness we have in our lives as a gift from God, and the image that is revealed is the image of the One who created us: the image of God. 

Let us pray:
Almighty God, Eternal Father,
from the fullness of our souls, we adore You.
We are deeply grateful that You have made us
in Your image and likeness
and that You ever hold us in Your loving embrace.
Direct our lives so that we may love You with all our hearts,
with all our souls, and with our whole minds,
so that we may love all Your children as we love ourselves.
Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 24 RCL C – “God’s Justice”

A young lady who occasionally walked through the park after work stopped on a particular day to have her picture taken. She was very excited about the whole idea. The photographer charged $5 and used one of the Polaroid instant cameras (the picture slides out and develops in a few minutes.) As she walked out of the park, the picture was fully developed, so she stopped and took a moment to review her purchase. She was not pleased with what she saw, so she turned and headed back to the photographer. When she got to him, she raised her voice and barked: “This is not right! This is not right! I would like my $5 back. You have done me no justice! No justice whatsoever!”

The photographer looked at the picture and then looked at her. Then, returning the picture and her money, he said, “Miss, you don’t need justice. What you need is mercy.”

Today is the parable of the unjust judge. The judge doesn’t care what people or God thinks; he does what he wants when he wants. Along comes a widow seeking justice over some matter—we are not told what. At first, the judge ignores her, but she keeps coming. Finally, the judge says to himself, “She’s never going to give me peace, and she’s making me look foolish in the eyes of everyone, so I’ll do what she wants to get her out of my hair.” To those listening, Jesus says, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

Jesus says, “If this unjust judge will do what she asks, then imagine how much more your Father in Heaven, who loves you dearly, will do for you.” From this excerpt, we can come to understand that Jesus is speaking about how we can go to the Father in prayer. It ties back very nicely to what Jesus said in chapter seven: “Which one of you if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” All this makes for a good lesson on prayer—I hope so because it is one I’ve preached. The woman is asking for justice. In seeing it as a parable about prayer, we can replace the word “justice” with whatever our petition might be. It works, but in doing so, we’ve missed the point Jesus was making, and we did so by pulling the parable out of context. The parable is about prayer, but it is about praying for one specific thing. That one specific thing is what the widow was asking for: justice. The story began in chapter seventeen when some Pharisees came to Jesus and asked when the Kingdom of God would come.

Jesus began by saying to them, “The kingdom of God is not coming in ways that can be observed, nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There!’ for behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you.” He then goes on to speak about some believers who would desire God’s Kingdom and who would experience great suffering before it came. He also tells them that it will be like in the days of Noah before the flood. There will be eating and drinking, buying and selling… people will be going about their daily lives, oblivious to what is coming, which is the judgment of God—the end of days when God’s justice is poured out. A justice that will right all the wrongs. The Prophet Isaiah said, “In that day the Lord with his hard and great and strong sword will punish Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan the twisting serpent, and he will slay the dragon that is in the sea.” Jesus is saying the same thing: On the last day, the Lord will punish the enemies of God’s people and restore them to Himself. Then, with that in mind, Jesus tells them the parable of the unjust judge and the widow who cried out for justice. Her cry is a prayer that runs throughout scripture.

In the sixth chapter of John’s Revelation, the angel of the Lord begins to break the scroll’s seven seals. The first four seals release the four horsemen of the apocalypse, and when the fifth seal is broken, John says,  “I saw under the altar [in the throne room of God] the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne. They cried out with a loud voice, ‘O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?’” The widow’s prayer is the same as these souls: justice. It is also the same one-word prayer of St. Paul that he spoke at the end of his first letter to the Corinthians: Maranatha—“Our Lord, come!” Or “Come, Lord Jesus!” Come, Lord, with your justice. All these and others are crying out for God to exact his justice on the nations. Yet, over time, that cry and that zeal have faded.

You’ve probably figured out by now that I’m not much of a sports person, so I seldom use illustrations from sporting events, but—and this one is going to sting a little for some of you—how about that Texas vs. OU game last week? Forty-nine to Zero. That had to hurt. Anyhow, if you were (maybe you still are) an OU fan, you could have been one that traveled down to Texas for the game, had a tailgate party beforehand, participated in all the bluster, there’s the kickoff and all the cheering. You’re still feeling positive when Texas scores first and maybe even still cheering and excited at the half, even though your team is down twenty-eight to zip. Then in the second half, the writing on the wall becomes quite clear. By the fourth quarter, Texas is likely using their fifth-string quarterback and has put in the water boy as a running back to try and keep from running the score up too much. If you’re even still at the game—you may have gone home and found something better to do with your time—if you’re still there, you’re likely sitting glumly and murmuring to yourself: disheartened, disappointed, and depressed. No more cheers. No more bluster. No more hope. After such a shellacking, you may give up on them all together and never watch another game.

The widow cried out for God’s justice. Those souls in Heaven cry out for justice. So many have cried out for God’s justice to be poured out, but it’s been 2,000 years since Jesus walked the earth, and we’re still waiting; many, like at that football game, have become disheartened, disappointed, and depressed. Some remain, but many have lost their zeal, and many more have simply walked away. What we read this morning from Paul’s letter to Timothy is being fulfilled, “For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander away to myths.” And it is into that very set of circumstances that Jesus speaks the last sentence of our Gospel reading: “And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” The cry for the Lord’s return and zeal for his justice has faded.

As followers of Jesus, we must remember that Christianity is not a faith of immediate gratification. Instead, it is a lifetime of faith and of hope, in good seasons and in bad. Jesus said, “The one who endures to the end will be saved.” Therefore, regardless of current circumstances or perceived loss, be the one who, with great zeal and joy, perseveres until the end. How do you persevere? What is the secret to perseverance? My friend St. Josemaría Escrivá answers that one: “Love. Fall in Love, and you will not leave him.” (The Way #999) Fall in love with God and there will be nothing that dampens your spirit or desire to be with him. In the end, be one who can say with St. Paul, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.” (2 Timothy 4:7-8)

Let us pray (a prayer of St. Thomas Aquinas): Grant us, O Lord our God, minds to know you, hearts to seek you, wisdom to find you, conduct pleasing to you, faithful perseverance in waiting for you, and a hope of finally embracing you. Amen.

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The Golden Fistula (new cover art coming soon) is available on Amazon and has had 1,000+ edits to correct the grammar. The Journey is also out there. All this is in preparation for the release of The Marble Finger (the second Father Anthony Savel Mystery). If you are interested in following, connect with one of these social media outlets (FYI: I don’t do much on Twitter) or follow this blog.

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Sermon: Proper 23 RCL C – “Gratitude”

Photo by Hudson Hintze on Unsplash

Weary of constantly picking clothes up from the floor of little Johnny’s room, his mother Rachel finally laid down the law: each item of clothing she had to pick up would cost Johnny 25 cents.

By the end of the week, Johnny owed his mother $1.50, and she placed the “bill” on his bed. Surprisingly, mom quickly received $2 along with a note: “Thanks, Mom. Keep up the good work, and keep the change!”

With all the technology available, you would think we would no longer need a pen and paper. We’ve got electronic calendars that will ding us and tell us when we’re supposed to be somewhere, apps and other electronics that provide notifications, and even my dentist now has an electronic service that will call me no less than four times to remind us of an appointment (a bit annoying actually, but I’m told that there are still plenty of folks that forget their appointment.) All that, yet even though I make use of them, I still sit down at night and write out the next day’s events and tasks. With the planner I have, The Monk Manual, in addition to a calendar and task list, some questions allow you to review the day: “Ways to improve tomorrow,” “When was I at my best,” and “When did I feel unrest.” There’s also a place for journaling and things I’m looking forward to. Finally, there’s a box where I list three things that I am grateful for, but why would a daily journal ask me to include things I’m grateful for? There’s actually science behind it.

An author for Psychology Today writes, “Gratitude, or an intentional focus on appreciating the `positive aspects of life, is strongly and causally related to both physical and psychological well-being. There’s also growing evidence that simple gratitude meditations done on a daily basis can improve our mental health, and that cultivating gratitude can even strengthen our immune functioning. As we shift our focus towards what is positive in our lives, or reframe painful experiences in ways that allow us to grow, gain wisdom and compassion, and deepen our empathy with others, we also dial down our stress response, lessening the flow of stress-related hormones through our bodies.” (Source) 

The science says it is good for us to be grateful, and my daily planner allows three small spaces to list what I’m grateful for. There are a few days when the only thing I can come up with is “coffee,” but most days, I’m able to fill the box. However, I suppose the real question for me would be: why can’t I fill an entire journal with everything I should be grateful for in a single day? To answer that, I need a better definition of gratitude.

A secular answer comes from a Harvard Medical School journal (please note: I do not sit around reading psychology and medical journals. I Google and then search for good sources. Anyhow…)—the journal states, “The word gratitude is derived from the Latin word gratia, which means grace, graciousness, or gratefulness (depending on the context). In some ways, gratitude encompasses all of these meanings. Gratitude is a thankful appreciation for what an individual receives, tangible or intangible. With gratitude, people acknowledge the goodness in their lives. People usually recognize that the source of that goodness lies at least partially outside themselves.” (Source)

“The source of that goodness lies at least partially outside of themselves.” That source can be found in relationships, good fortune, opportunities given, and so on, but ultimately, the source is The Source—it is God. Today in our Gospel reading, I suspect all ten lepers recognized the source of their good fortune, but that is not all there is to gratitude. The journal stated, “With gratitude, people acknowledge the goodness in their lives.” Recognizing and acknowledging are two separate things. For these feelings of joy and happiness to be genuine gratitude, they must first be recognized and acknowledged.

Finally, there may be an innate sense of gratitude in us all, but for the most part, it is something that must be practiced and cultivated. If you walk around all day moping and complaining, then if you win the lottery, you might exhibit gratitude, but for the remainder of the time… you’ll just be moping and complaining. Gratitude must be practiced and cultivated—it must be intentional.

At this point, you may be saying, “Well, Father John, this is a nice talk for a psychology class, but what does it have to do with the Gospel of Jesus Christ?” The answer: everything.

1 Chronicles 16:34 — Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever!

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 — Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Colossians 3:15 — And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.

I do not know this for a fact, the scriptures do not say it, but it would not surprise me if the one leper who came back and gave thanks to Jesus was one who, whether intentionally or unintentionally, practiced gratitude. Even though it may not have appeared, there were reasons for him to be grateful. He was an outcast, but he had a community. He was sick, but he was still alive. He was required by the law to wear rags, but he still had something to cover his body with. He was required to cry out, “Unclean! Unclean!” anytime someone approached, but he still held in his heart the hope of one day being clean. He could have spent all his time moping and complaining about his misfortune, circumstances, the unfairness of it all, the people he was with, everything, but he could have also seen all the goodness in those difficulties.

Time and time again, the scriptures call upon us to be thankful. Why? The reasons are innumerable—even in the worst of circumstances—but if for no other reason, we are called to be grateful because we were once the lepers. We were the ones living outside the community of God. We were the ones who had to cry out, “Unclean! Unclean!” We were the ones who stared at death and decay all day long, but through Jesus, we have been redeemed and given new life. Like with the one leper that returned, Jesus has said to us, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” That’s a simple enough phrase, but it is powerful because the words “get up” are also translated be resurrected. Even in the most difficult of situations, we are grateful because Jesus has said to us, “Get up, you are resurrected—given new and eternal life—so go on your way and be thankful; your faith has made you well.”

Practice your gratitude and cultivate it. Keep a small journal and daily write down those good things you recognize and acknowledge them. Take time in your prayers to not just lay out the laundry list for God but also allow time to give him thanks, even in the most difficult of times, for the goodness he has shown you. Go to the person who showed you the goodness of God and acknowledge them as a conduit from God to you, telling them how much you appreciate them in your life. Finally, spend a little time meditating on that most extraordinary gift of all: the salvation and eternal life you have received through Jesus, and realize how truly blessed you are. As the Psalmist declared:

Hallelujah!
     I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart,
     in the assembly of the upright, in the congregation.

And a few verses further:

He sent redemption to his people;
     he commanded his covenant for ever; *
     holy and awesome is his Name.

He sent redemption: let that be the beginning, then let your heart overflow in thanksgiving and gratitude for the goodness of our God.

As a concluding prayer, please turn to page 837 in your Book of Common Prayer.

Let us give thanks to God our Father for all his gifts so freely bestowed upon us.

For the beauty and wonder of your creation, in earth and sky and sea.

We thank you, Lord.

For all that is gracious in the lives of men and women, revealing the image of Christ,

We thank you, Lord.

For our daily food and drink, our homes and families, and our friends,

We thank you, Lord.

For minds to think, and hearts to love, and hands to serve,

We thank you, Lord.

For health and strength to work, and leisure to rest and play,

We thank you, Lord.

For the brave and courageous, who are patient in suffering and faithful in adversity,

We thank you, Lord.

For all valiant seekers after truth, liberty, and justice,

We thank you, Lord.

For the communion of saints, in all times and places,

We thank you, Lord.

Above all, we give you thanks for the great mercies and promises given to us in Christ Jesus our Lord;

To him be praise and glory, with you, O Father, and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen.

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Sermon: St. Francis of Assis

St. Francis by Nicholas Roerich. 1932. Tempera on canvas.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth,” and a bit further in the creation narrative, we are told: “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. God blessed them and said, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.’”

God created all things, and we are to “fill the earth and subdue it.” He crowned us with glory and subjected all things to us. The Lord took all that he had made and handed it to us. Yet, in doing so, he did not make us owners or dictators over it. He made us stewards and supervisors of His creation, and how we care for His creation reflects how we care for one another.

When we think of St. Francis, we think of the stories of his interactions with the animals. However, a closer reading of those stories demonstrates to us how we are to care for one another; as St. Francis of Assisi said, “If you have men who will exclude any of God’s creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.” Francis is saying that if you abuse an animal, you’ll abuse a person. If you pollute the earth, you’ll pollute a soul. If you see creation simply as a means to an end, then it is likely that you will see others simply as objects created to fulfill selfish desires.

How should we act towards creation and others? A Native American saying: “God Made the earth, the sky and the water, the moon and the sun. He made man and bird and beast. But He didn’t make the dog. He already had one.” Jesus said, “Be the kind of person your dog thinks you are.” I read that on Facebook, so it must be true. No. Jesus did not say that, but it has a good bit of truth and expresses how we should act toward creation. And you can change it up to be the kind of person your cat thinks you are, your iguana or turtle. They are all the same if you love and care for them—the point: be that kind of person to the people around you. 

I do not know what Jesus would say about a cat, but the name I gave the cat that lives in my house is Rain. The name she has given herself is The Queen. As her loyal subject and obedient servant, she finds in me kindness, compassion, comfort, a scratch behind the ear, and treats. I pray that the world will discover those qualities in me (minus the scratch behind the ear). Why? Because Jesus said, “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.  In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Yes, be the kind of person your dog, cat, or iguana thinks you are. Be the kind of person who brings glory to the Father in your dealings with the earth and with the four, eight, or more legged creatures, and be one who brings glory to the Father in your dealings with the two-legged variety as well. Perhaps Francis expressed it best in the prayer that is attributed to him. Let us pray:

Lord, make us instruments of your peace:
where there is hatred, let us 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 we 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.
Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 22 RCL C – “Mulberry Tree”

TreePhoto by Do Photography on Unsplash

Did you know that the longest fingernail (actually a thumbnail) is 6 feet 4 inches? Did you know that the loudest burp by a female is 107 decibels (the equivalent of being close up to a jackhammer)? Did you know that the longest kiss lasted over 58 hours? And did you know that the greatest distance to catch a thrown grape in the mouth is 354 feet? World’s records. If someone is willing to do something crazy, there’s bound to be someone around to measure it. There are also some remarkable human feats that have been accomplished.

A few weeks back, ten of us came together as a team—St. Matthew’s Saints—and walked the 5K at the Great Land Run. For those not proficient in the metric system (myself included), 5K (kilometers) is roughly 3.1 miles. You’ll be happy to know that as a team, we came in second place out of six. The only team to beat us was the EHS Cross Country runners. I’m OK coming in second behind them.

Not only do they keep track of teams, but they track by age groups. For the St. Matthew’s Saints, Frank Baker came in first in his age group, Mary Henneke came in third in hers, and Max Baker came in third for the shorter folks. I… well, I came in 172nd out of 195 runners, and I lived to tell about it. My time for walking 3.1 miles was 54 minutes and 7 seconds, an average of 17 minutes and 46 seconds per mile. There are some remarkable human feats… that was not one of them; however, at the Berlin Marathon held earlier this week, Eliud Kipchoge ran a full marathon (26.2 miles) and set a new world record: 2 hours 1 minute, and 9 seconds. I walked a mile in about 18 minutes. This man ran 26 miles at a pace of 4 minutes and 37 seconds per mile. That’s the difference between running a bit over three mph compared to 13 mph. Eliud set a world record. I did not.

This is only one of the amazing number of remarkable feats accomplished by humans. Still, in all that the human race had done, I’ve never come across a single person who has said to a mulberry tree, “Be uprooted and planted in the sea,” and had it obey them. Yet, when the apostles said to Jesus, “Increase our faith!” Jesus said if you had faith the size of a mustard seed—in other words—if your faith was the equivalent of my 18-minute mile—you could move that mulberry tree, so perhaps Jesus did not mean for us to understand this literally but was instead using a figure of speech to make a point.

This past week during our Wednesday night study, we discussed the use of a metaphor in Holy Scripture. A metaphor is a word that symbolically refers to another. For example, we see many times in scripture where God is referred to as a rock, but we know this doesn’t literally mean that God is a rock. To have faith the size of a mustard seed and be able to move a tree from one place to another is not a metaphor. Still, it is also a figure of speech: a rhetorical hyperbole—an over-the-top exaggeration, yet when Jesus uses it, he speaks of a greater truth.

In the nineteenth chapter of Matthew, we are told of Jesus’ encounter with the rich young man. The man came to Jesus and asked what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus says to him, “If you would enter life, keep the commandments.” The young man asks, “Which ones?” Jesus replied, “You shall not murder, You shall not commit adultery, You shall not steal, You shall not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother, and, You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Hearing this, the young man becomes excited. He’s on his way, so he says to Jesus, “All these I have kept. What do I still lack?” Jesus tells him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” Jesus said, “All you need to do is say to that mulberry tree, be uprooted and planted in the sea, and you will inherit eternal life.” And the young man went away sad because he could not do that.

If that were the end of it, then in all likelihood, we would all go away sad because there is a mulberry tree in all our lives that we can’t seem to move. Think about it. I can pick many mulberry trees in my life. Things that I’ve worked to change, sins that I’ve attempted to overcome, anger that I think I’ve set aside that keeps welling up… run through the list: pride, hypocrisy, gluttony—It’s all there. Spin the wheel and see which one pops up today. All of them are like that young man and his wealth; they are mulberry trees with roots into my soul that just won’t give an inch. If eternal life depended upon my ability to move them, I would catch up to that young man so that we could commiserate together because, in the end, we would both be damned. Fortunately for us, that is not the end of the story.

After the rich young man went his way, Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly, I say to you, only with difficulty will a rich person enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” Jesus said, “Truly I say to you, only with difficulty can someone who is unable to move the mulberry tree gain eternal life. It would be easier for Father John to squeeze into a pair of skinny jeans than for such a person to enter the Kingdom of God.”  When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished, saying, “Who then can be saved?” But Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God… with a faith in God that is no larger than a mustard seed… all things are possible.” Moving the mulberry tree and gaining eternal life is not about what I can do. Instead, it is about my faith in what my God can do—and all things are possible through Him. As St. Paul says, “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:56-57) And again, he says, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”—who will move this mulberry tree in my life?—“Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25a)

There are things in our lives that we strive to change and overcome, and so often, we fail. They are like trying to move mulberry trees into the sea. However, just because we fail does not permit us to stop trying and pushing forward, but those failures are not a reason to walk away sad and defeated. We must go at it again. Yet, we can rest in confidence that, in the end, Jesus has already moved the mulberry tree for us. As St. Paul said, the Lord Jesus gives us the victory.

One final note—a bit of an aside: I said that moving the mulberry tree and saying you could move it into the sea was a rhetorical hyperbole, an over-the-top exaggeration. Fine. However, I am not one to limit God, so I firmly believe that should God ever need such a remarkable feat accomplished, it will be done, for if he can raise a man from the dead, moving a tree, no matter how deeply rooted, will never be an issue.

Let us pray: Holy God, we come to you with humility, knowing that the answer to our challenges is not wholly within us. We come with steadfastness and faith, knowing that your love for us is everlasting. And we come with hope, knowing that all things are possible in you. We come to you and give you thanks for the victory you have won for us. Amen.

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Sermon: St. Michael and All Angels

Tomorrow is the Feast of St. Michael and All Angels, and Sunday, October 2nd, is the traditional date for celebrating the Feast of the Guardian Angels. We’ll combine those two days today.

My friend, St. Josemaría Escrivá, had a special devotion to his guardian angel. He would say, “For years I’ve experienced the constant and immediate assistance of my guardian angel, even in the smallest material particulars.” For example, it was his habit to wake at 6 a.m. every morning, so when his alarm clock broke, he turned to his guardian angel and asked for assistance. That angel never failed him, waking him at the correct time every day. Escrivá would refer to him as, “My dear watchmaker.”

At another time, he and friends were playing bocce ball. When it was his turn, Escrivá threw particularly well but immediately declared, “That doesn’t count—I was helped by my guardian angel. I won’t do that anymore.” Later he would confess how ashamed he was for asking his guardian angel to help with such a trivial matter.

And one more: while in seminary, a professor told them how priests, in addition to their guardian angels, have a ministerial archangel that watches over them. This he took to heart. His friend and biographer, Alvaro del Portillo, writes that whenever “[Escrivá] was leaving the room, he would pause, almost imperceptibly, before going through the doorway” to allow his two angels to go before him. Alvaro said, “This was a tiny detail, unnoticed by the others, which showed how he lived in relationship with his guardian angel and ministerial archangel.”

Referring to angels, the Catholic catechism states, “The existence of the spiritual, non-corporeal beings that Sacred Scripture usually calls ‘angels’ is a truth of faith.  The witness of Scripture is as clear as the unanimity of Tradition.” It further states, “From infancy to death human life is surrounded by their (the angels) watchful care and intercession. Beside each believer stands an angel as protector and shepherd leading him to life. Already here on earth the Christian life shares by faith in the blessed company of angels and men united to God,” and St. Thomas Aquinas writes, “The angels work together for the benefit of us all.”

Not only do they watch over and guard, but they are also God’s messengers. The word angel is derived from the Greek word angelos, meaning messenger. Perhaps the most important message being delivered by Gabriel to Mary announcing the Incarnation. Throughout scripture, we hear of their work: the angel that freed Peter from prison, the grand visions of them by Isaiah and John in his Revelation, and how they ministered to Jesus following the forty days in the wilderness.

Like Escrivá, you don’t have to go far to find or hear stories about angels. There are many, many books of accounts and encounters (some of which claim that angels are, in fact, space aliens, but we won’t go down that road.)

We do not worship them. Upon seeing one, John tells us, “I fell down to worship at the feet of the angel…but [the angel] said to me, ‘You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you and your brothers the prophets, and with those who keep the words of this book. Worship God.’” We do not worship them, but we do honor and celebrate these ‘fellow servants’ of the Lord. We celebrate their unswerving obedience to God and the many kindnesses they show: watching over and protecting us, bringing us God’s messages, and saving our behinds when we do something especially stupid.

Remember that these guardians and messengers are with you, and give them pause to go before you and protect you.

Let us pray: Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 21 RCL C – “To Proclaim”

A poor fella wants to attend church on a Sunday morning, but when he arrives, he sees that everyone is all nice and clean, but he’s a bit dirty. They’re wearing nice clothes, but his have holes and are patched. They’ve got nice shoes on, but his are so worn that his big toe sticks out on both shoes. So, when he tries to gain entry, he’s told he’ll need to clean up a bit first and put on some nice clothes. He’s told that he’ll need to be proper, and then the door is closed on him. As he sits on the front steps, listening to them sing songs about the love of Jesus, he complains to God about not being allowed in. Then he heard God say, “I know how you feel. They won’t let me in there either.”

From our Psalm this morning:

Praise the Lord, O my soul!
     I will praise the Lord as long as I live…

Who gives justice to those who are oppressed,
     and food to those who hunger.

The Lord sets the prisoners free;
     the Lord opens the eyes of the blind; *
     the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down;

The Lord loves the righteous;
     the Lord cares for the stranger; *
     he sustains the orphan and widow,
     but frustrates the way of the wicked.

Have you ever read passages of scripture like this and wondered what all those types of individuals think? I mean, the scriptures say God will give justice to the oppressed, but there are so many who are still oppressed. It says he’ll give food to the hungry, but there are still so many who hunger. I suppose those who don’t believe can’t complain, but what about the believers—those who call on the name of the Lord but who are still oppressed, blind, hungry, and so on? If I found myself in such a position, I might be one to say, “Excuse me, Lord, but would you fulfill some of those promises in my life?” I know you’ve done these kinds of things before.

I read about the crippled woman bent over (bowed down); you healed her. There was the blind man you restored sight to. You cared for plenty of strangers: the ten lepers, the guy whose friends lowered him through the roof, the crippled man in the temple. And you fed the hungry: feeding of the 5,000. Feeding of the 4,000. The miraculous catch of fish. Yes. You’ve done all these things before, so, yeah, I’ll take some of that, but… nothing.

At such a point, we can say, “To heck with all this God business,” or we can look more deeply and discover what is really being said. We can listen, not just to the parts we want to hear, but to all of what scripture says. And that understanding begins at the inauguration of Jesus’ work when he said,

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because he has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
    and recovering of sight to the blind,
    to set at liberty those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

“He has anointed me to proclaim.” There’s also the time he got up early in the morning, after healing many the day before, and went away alone into the wilderness. Later, Simon finds him and reports that everyone is looking for him and Jesus said, “Let us go on to the next towns, that I may preach there also, for that is why I came out.” “The reason I came was to proclaim the Kingdom of God.”

As we’ve discussed before, the miracles were not the reason for Jesus’ coming. They were signs of his authority in proclaiming the forgiveness of sins. Remember when he healed the paralytic? Jesus said to the man, “Take heart, my son; your sins are forgiven,” but the scribes became angry, so Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, “‘Why do you think evil in your hearts? For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins’—he then said to the paralytic—‘Rise, pick up your bed and go home.’”

The message—the proclamation of the gospel and the forgiveness of sins was his primary purpose, and even his death upon the cross announced it. This is part of what made Jesus so unpopular with religious leaders. He was proclaiming the Kingdom of God was available to everyone—tax collectors and sinners and all, but the religious leaders believed you would have to pay for your sins. You couldn’t be forgiven just because someone said you were, so when Jesus declared that all who repented were welcomed into the Kingdom… well, the religious leaders got their knickers in a twist. He pointed this out in the parable of the prodigal son.

You know the story: a father with two sons. The younger son asks for and receives his inheritance, then goes out and squanders it. When he hits bottom, he says, “Self, you should go home and work for your father; at least there, you’ll have something to eat.” So he returns home. Dad sees him coming and orders a party to celebrate the return of the lost sheep—his son. However, the older brother—and keep in mind the attitude of the religious leaders who object to Jesus—older brother throws a snit fit and refuses to go to the party. The father implores him, but the son replies, “Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!”

The religious leaders complained to Jesus: we are the ones that are following God’s ways, yet you declare the forgiveness of sins to those who are furthermost from God. That’s not right, they said.

Now, come forward to our Gospel reading for today, which was told almost immediately following the parable of the prodigal son.

We can understand today’s parable in terms of a moral teaching, which it should be. We are called on to care for those in need and we will be partially judged by how we do, but there is more being said, and it relates to the prodigal son and the attitude of the religious leaders.

The poor man, Lazarus, begs at the city gates day and night, and the dogs are more compassionate toward him than the rich man. Eventually, they both die and receive justice: Lazarus to heaven and the rich man to Hades. Seeing Father Abraham, the rich man asks if Lazarus could bring him one tiny drop of water to cool his tongue, for he was in agony in flames. That, of course, is not possible. Hence, the rich man asks if Father Abraham would send someone to his brothers to proclaim the truth so that they might repent and not be punished as he was, but Father Abraham replies, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”

This is a story about the proclamation of the Kingdom of God: the tax collectors and sinners were the ones, not at the city gates, but at the Temple gates, crying out daily for a single drop of cool water to cool their souls—some sign of hope, compassion, mercy from those who were supposed to be rich in God’s word, the religious leaders, but those religious leaders wouldn’t even look at the sinners, associate with them, or speak with them. Jesus is saying to the religious leaders, “Because, in this life, you refused to give the tax collectors and sinners a single drop of the Good News to cool their souls and help them gain the Kingdom of God, then you will receive punishment in the next.”

The parable is a morality story, but more importantly, it is a message for the church. We are the rich. Within us is not just a drop of cool water, but Jesus tells us, “Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.” When that poor man complained to God that they wouldn’t let him in church, God said to him, “I know how you feel. They won’t let me in there either.” You are not that kind of church, but let us always be on guard against it. Like Jesus, we want to be about the business of proclaiming the Kingdom of God. As the church, that is our job, so as His church, let us continue to be a place where all who are thirsty and in need of forgiveness and repentance can come and receive Jesus, the Savior of us all.

Let us pray: Everliving God, whose will it is that all should come to you through your Son Jesus Christ: Inspire our witness to him, that all may know the power of his forgiveness and the hope of his resurrection; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

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Sermon: Heritage Sunday / Feast of St. Matthew

The Inspiration of Saint Matthew by Caravaggio

A farm boy got a white football for his birthday. He played with it a while and then accidentally kicked it over into the neighbor’s yard. The old rooster ran out, looked at it, and called the hens to see it.

“Now look here,” the rooster said, “I don’t want you girls to think I’m complaining, but I just want you to see what they are doing next door.”

If I were a chicken, I don’t know if that would motivate me or get me to cross the road and find a less demanding farm.

When it comes to cats, I don’t believe there is anything that motivates them. They do what they want, when they want, although The Queen is motivated to have a nip of scotch when I pour myself one. On the other hand, dogs can be motivated by all sorts of things: affection, play, food (I would make a good dog), and other games they enjoy. People also have motivators. Food, money, fame, power, love, and such, but we are also motivated by negatives: shame, societal expectations, fear, and more. Whether positive or negative, human or animal, a motivator is an external factor that stimulates a desired response and is something learned. In addition, if the motivator is removed—the reward is no longer given, the fear is no longer present—the person or animal may revert to who they were before. If a person is motivated by money and you cut their pay or their hours, then you’ll likely see their productivity decline. That great motivational speaker, Zig Ziglar, said, “Of course, motivation is not permanent. But then, neither is bathing; but it is something you should do on a regular basis.” Motivation is good.

What is similar to motivation is inspiration, but where motivation is an external force that pushes in hopes of attaining a specific response, inspiration is an internal awakening that draws us and pulls us to something greater. The reward or punishment is not present with inspiration. It is nice if there is a reward, but if you’re inspired, you’ll do whatever it is, regardless. Leonardo Davinci didn’t paint the Mona Lisa because someone offered him a cookie. It was an inspiration, something within him that needed to express itself.

Our life with God is the same. Some are positively motivated—they want the reward of heaven—and some are negatively motivated—they’re afraid of hell. That’s one way to do it. These external factors push us toward the desired response: I want to go to heaven, or I want to avoid hell, so I’ll behave in a certain way. However, to be inspired to follow God and his calling on your life is to be drawn in—not for the reward or avoidance of punishment—but by love, by desire, by passion, by relationship.

The image on the front of your booklet this morning is named, The Inspiration of St. Matthew and is located in the church of San Luigi dei Francesi in Rome. When we study it, we begin to see the inspiration of God at work.

The angel is making several points, ticking them off with his fingers, and Matthew is staring up at him. Although his pen and tablet are on the desk, Matthew only has eyes for the messenger of God. His focus is singular. Matthew is not concerned with himself—you can’t see it all, but he is standing at his desk with one knee propped up on the seat. The seat itself is tilted and about to fall over, yet Matthew is not concerned with his discomfort or the precariousness of his position. His hand is poised for action, ready to write. And notice the background of the painting—it is all black. Nothing else matters other than the angel and the message. Matthew is not motivated—he’s not looking for a reward or in fear of punishment—Matthew is inspired, and he wasn’t only inspired to write a Gospel. He was inspired from the very moment Jesus walked into that tax collection operation and said, “Follow me,” for we are told, “[Matthew] got up and followed him.” Jesus did not promise him heaven or threaten him with hell. Jesus’ words and presence filled Matthew with such a deep inspiration, a deep sense of call, that without hesitation or any concern for self, discomfort, possessions, danger, and everything else that accepting a call from the Savior can produce, he got up and followed Jesus with his entire self. 

Question: why are we not inspired in such a way to follow Jesus so passionately? I can come up with a few answers but I think, for the most part… we simply won’t allow it. We want to follow Jesus with complete abandon, but we will not give ourselves permission to do so. We say, “Yes, Jesus, I will follow you, but… but I’ve got a family. But I’ve got a job. But I’ve got responsibilities. But I’m afraid of what people will think.” That’s a pretty big “but.” But! what we fail to understand is that Jesus is not asking us to abandon family or job or responsibilities, etc. Jesus is asking us to abandon our lives to him so that he can inspire our life with family, our life at work and with our colleagues, and in all those other areas of responsibility. The Lord does not want our day-to-day life to be separate from our life with Him. So often, in following Christ, we think we’ve got our life with him over here and our life in the world over here, with this nice barrier between them keeping them separate. To be inspired by Jesus as St. Matthew was is to remove that barrier and allow Jesus into every aspect of your life. In doing so, you will no longer feel as though there is this conflict between the two but will instead experience peace in knowing that your life is entirely under the kingship of Christ.

It is not in the prayers we have today, but in our Rite II service each Sunday, the last sentence of the Post-Communion prayer is, “Send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage to love and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart….” It is that peace, that gladness, and that singleness of heart—our daily lives—that enters us when we allow Jesus to inspire the entirety of our lives. 

Jesus says, “Follow me.” Be inspired, be passionate in your walk with Jesus, and follow him in every aspect of your life.

Let us pray: We thank You, heavenly Father, for the witness of Your Apostle and evangelist Matthew to the Gospel of Your Son our Savior; and we pray that, inspired by his example, we may with ready wills and hearts obey the calling of our Lord to follow him; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen.

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