Tag: Faith

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Sermon: Proper 12 RCL B – “The Boat”

Photo by Mickey O’neil on Unsplash

The report states that on Lake Isabella, in California, a couple were new to sailing. I’ve done a little sailing in the past and know that it requires a bit of instruction before you get out there on your own; however, with only a few hours, the couple purchased themselves a brand new 22-foot sailboat, invited friends, and headed out. Nothing went right. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t get the boat going. It was very sluggish in almost every maneuver, no matter how much wind was blowing or power they applied through the inboard motor. After about an hour of trying to make it go, they put into a nearby marina, thinking someone there could tell them what was wrong. A thorough topside check revealed everything was in perfect working condition. So, one of the marina guys jumped in the water to check underneath to see if perhaps the keel was not properly deployed or damaged. He came up choking on water, he was laughing so hard. Under the boat, still strapped securely in place, was the boat trailer! There was no problem with the boat. It was all operator error.

This is reportedly an urban legend, but a fella in Oregon says it really happened. The only difference, he didn’t have to get in the water. He could see the trailer’s license plate sticking up.

My friend St. Josemaría Escrivá wrote, “I never talk politics. I do not approve of committed Christians in the world forming a political-religious movement. That would be madness, even if it were motivated by a desire to spread the spirit of Christ in all the activities of men.” (Christ is Passing By, #153)

I happen to agree with that 100%. After almost a decade of preaching in this church, you may have noticed that I don’t fly anyone’s flag. If we were to fly a flag in this sanctuary, the only thing it would say is “Sinners in the hands of a Loving God,” because once you strip away all the rest, that is all that remains. As the Church and a Christian people, that is what we should be most concerned about. So today, I’m not planning on breaking my rule, but I would like to address how we engage in that realm of politics and what I believe the role of Christianity and the Church should be. If you all walk away unhappy with what I say, then I’ll feel like I did my job.

It begins by understanding truth. Is there such a thing as an ultimate truth? Yes. I’m sure some of you cross your fingers at specific points, but we speak what we believe as the ultimate truth when we confess our faith in the Creeds—“We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty….” However, for many, the ultimate truth does not end there. We have what we believe are ultimate truths about everything from the abhorrent abomination of mint chocolate ice cream to questions of sexuality, end-of-life issues (euthanasia, assisted suicide, aging), immigration and refugees, the war in Ukraine, Israel, or Africa, etc.

The point is that we have the truth of our Creed, and then we have these other truths, which are often opinions or personal truths. This then leads to a great deal of the current strife we experience—if it is true for me, whether you agree with it or not, then it must unequivocally be true for you. If you disagree with me, which in many cases is the opinion or personal truth of the majority, you are a terrible person. When you say, “I’m going to remain silent,” well, then you are an evil person. This is also where Christianity comes in because Christians love this—someone will haul out the quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer (even though he never said it): “Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.” Therefore, if I speak an opinion or personal truth and you either a) disagree or b) do not stand up in support of my personal truth, then you’re going to hell. I say abortion is evil. You say that not supporting women’s rights is evil. Some choose to remain silent, so we both say they are evil. Ultimately, by calling someone evil, we are saying that God is on our side and we are the righteous. It is this arrogance that leads to heresies like the one we see on the rise today—Christian nationalism.

One of the great contemporary Anglican theologians, N.T. Wright states, “Christian nationalism is impoverished as it seeks a kingdom without a cross. It pursues a victory without mercy. It acclaims God’s love of power rather than the power of God’s love.” He then references our Gospel reading for today when he writes, “We must remember that Jesus refused those who wanted to ‘make him king’ by force just as much as he refused to become king by calling upon ‘twelve legions of angels.’ Jesus needs no army, arms, or armoured cavalry to bring about the kingdom of God. As such, we should resist Christian nationalism as giving a Christian facade to nakedly political, ethnocentric and impious ventures.”

Someone or some group begins to believe that they know the absolute truth, so they demand that this truth be not only believed by everyone but legislated and imposed on everyone. To make their case even more potent, they break the Second Commandment by taking the Lord’s Name in vain, claiming God is on their side. 

In the end, if we continue on this course, we will successfully destroy the nation and, worse, the Church. It is the hard lesson the German Lutherans learned as the Nazis began to rise to power—Christianity and government do not go together. It is why Jesus fled when they tried to make Him king. As the state is on the rise, it will make certain concessions to the Church to gain support; however, once the state has full power, it will expect the Church to make concessions to it, ultimately bringing the Church to a point where it will either compromise the Faith or be persecuted by the state they helped to build. You may be thinking, “Father John, you’ve been reading too many dystopian novels.” Maybe, but that’s not where this line of thought originates. It is coming from history. When the Church gets into bed with the state, it is always the Church that ends up getting short-sheeted.

Enough of that. What’s the point? If this is a problem, then what is the solution? 

The short version of a popular quote, generally attributed to G.K Chesterton, “We are all in the same boat.” The long version of that quote is, “We are all in the same boat in a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty.” However, today, it is popular to say, “We are all in the same storm but not the same boat.” It is then explained that some are in a little dingy without a paddle, others are on super yachts, and others ride around in aircraft carriers. At first, this appears to be a valid point, but it is also a lie. We are all in the same boat, but we’ve forgotten what Chesterton said, “We owe each other a terrible loyalty.” There is nothing wrong with the boat we are in, but someone forgot to detach the trailer. Our boat is good, but operator error is wreaking havoc, and we are the operator.

Whether in the Church or society, it is true (not opinion!), “The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I don’t need you!’ And the head cannot say to the feet, ‘I don’t need you!’” (1 Corinthians 12:21) Our boat is fine, but so many seem to be under the impression that they’re the only ones in it. 

The storm on the rough waters has always been interpreted as life, and the boat has always represented the Church and our faith. The fantastic thing about that boat is that it has always accommodated and made room for everyone, including those who aren’t even Christian. Why? Because this boat is not of our making. It is of God’s making, and there is not a single person—not one—that our God desires to perish. Every person we allow in is a way of allowing Jesus in. You might not like them, you may disagree with everything they say, you may not want anything to do with them, but let them in the boat. Let Jesus in the boat. They are a child of God and you owe them a terrible loyalty. 

When the disciples saw Jesus walking on the water, they were terrified. Jesus said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Some who walk up to the boat may be so different from us that we become afraid, but Jesus says the same thing to us, “Do not be afraid. Let them on the boat and we will all get safely to the other side.”

Let us pray: Lord Jesus, Son of God, our brother and our savior, we give you glory. Protect your Church and make us one. Send your Spirit to guide us and to lead us back to unity and love. Lord Jesus, we praise your holy name forever. Amen.

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Sermon: Mary Magdalene

Judith with the Head of Holophernes, by Cristofano Allori, 1613

The Book of Judith can be found in the Apocrypha, which means, according to Article 6 of the 39 Articles, “The Church doth read for example of life and instruction of manners; but yet doth it not apply them to establish any doctrine.”

The book begins, “It was the twelfth year of Nebuchadnezzar who reigned over the Assyrians in the great city of Nineveh,” which rabbinical scholars state is equivalent to saying, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….”  In other words, it is historical fiction but a great read.

Israel is under attack from the Assyrians in the north. On their way to Jerusalem, the Assyrians conquer everyone in their path, finally coming up against the Jewish city of Bethulia.

The general of the Assyrian army, Holofernes, is all for immediately marching in and conquering it. Still, the Edomites, who are with him, convince him to lay siege instead by cutting off the water supply. They do, and they wait.

After thirty-five days, the people of Bethulia are ready to surrender, but the mayor convinces them to wait five more days, saying that if God did not rescue them after 40 days, he would surrender.

It is then that Judith goes into action. She plans to save her people by whatever means necessary, and the plan requires her to get safely into the Assyrian camp. She will need to lie to do this, so she prays that she can lie well.  We heard part of it today, including the words, “King of all your creation, hear my prayer! Make my deceitful words bring wound and bruise on those who have planned cruel things against your covenant.”  

She is very beautiful, so to accentuate that beauty, she dresses seductively. Then, leaving the city with her maidservant, she allows herself to be taken captive. Because of her beauty, they do not harm her, and when she lies, saying she has information on how to defeat the Israelites, she is taken to Holofernes. Beautiful woman encounters lustful general. Care to guess what the general is thinking?  Yahtzee!  

Judith’s plan works, but she keeps the general’s desire at bay for several days. Eventually, she declares that she will give in to his wishes. He is so excited by the prospect that he celebrates. In fact, he celebrates so much with liquor that he passes out. Scripture picks up: “With that, she went up to the bedpost by Holofernes’ head and took down his scimitar; coming closer to the bed, she caught him by the hair and said, ‘Make me strong today, Lord God of Israel!’ Twice she struck at his neck with all her might and cut off his head.” Then, after escaping through the enemy camps, she returned to the city. She said to the people, “Praise God! Praise him! Praise the God who has not withdrawn his mercy from the House of Israel but has shattered our enemies by my hand tonight!” She then had them place the head of the general on the city gate, which struck fear into the hearts of the Assyrians, which led to great chaos. The Israelites used the chaos, attacked, and drove the Assyrians from their land. I think Judith would have made a good Marine.

Interestingly, this story is tied to the feast of St. Mary Magdalene, which we celebrate today. Why? Because they are both declaring a victory. Judith says, “Praise God! Praise him! Praise the God who has not withdrawn his mercy from the House of Israel but has shattered our enemies.” She is declaring salvation from an earthly enemy. Mary Magdalene says, “I have seen the Lord.” She declares salvation for us all—our salvation over sin and death. In essence, Mary is saying, “Praise God!  Praise Him! Praise the God who I have seen, who has conquered death, once and for all, and brought salvation to all God’s children.”

With her, we say, “Praise God for our salvation through Christ Jesus.”

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Sermon: Proper 11 RCL B – “Come Away with Me”

Photo by Ante Hamersmit on Unsplash

Little Johnny got himself a drum for his birthday. It was one like the drummer boy in the infantry might have carried into battle, and Johnny loved his drum. He banged on the drum at home, and even worse; he would go up and down the neighborhood streets making all kinds of racket.  No amount of coaxing would get him to stop, and it was for lack of trying. 

One person told Johnny that he would if he continued to make so much noise, perforate his eardrums. This reasoning was too advanced for Johnny, who was neither a scientist nor a scholar.

A second person told Johnny that playing the drum was a special activity and should be carried out only on rare occasions. A third person offered the neighbors earplugs; a fourth gave Johnny a book; a fifth gave him meditation exercises to make him placid and docile. Nothing worked. Johnny banged away on his drum.

One day, Johnny’s grandpa came to town and wondered what all of the ruckus was about. He surveyed the situation, then went out to the garage. When he came back, he had a hammer and a chisel. He set them on the table in front of Johnny. As he turned to walk away, he said, “I wonder what’s on the inside of that drum?”

Grandpa was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.

You are familiar with the story of Elijah, but for a refresher… Elijah showed the strength of the Lord and put to shame the 450 priests of Baal. When the people saw this, they had those priests put to death. When Jezebel, the wife of King Ahab, heard this, she became furious and sent word to Elijah, essentially saying, “I’m coming for you.” Fearing for his life, Elijah ran. Scripture says he “went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.’” (1 Kings 19:4)

Elijah worked tirelessly to convince and convert the people and the king to cease their worship of Baal and follow God. He had performed miracles. He had preached. For his efforts, he received a death sentence. He had done all that he knew to do and was tired, so he said to God, “I’m done. I don’t care anymore. Kill me and let me rest.” 

The drum of Elijah’s life had been pounding and pounding. He had no peace, which drove him to the point of not caring. Not caring for his own life and not really caring anymore about what God had called him to.

We are told that when Elijah reached this point, he had just quit, lay down under a tree, and gone to sleep. After a while, an angel of the Lord came to him, woke him up, and gave him something to eat. Then Elijah slept a bit more. And after another while, the angel of the Lord came to him again, fixed a meal, and woke Elijah, saying, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” Elijah did and then continued on his journey to Mt. Horeb, where he would encounter God in the still, small voice. There’s a funny meme that’s made its way around the internet. It reads, “This is your gentle reminder that one time in the Bible, Elijah was like, ‘God, I’m so mad! I want to die!’ So God said, ‘Here’s some food. Why don’t you have a nap?’ So Elijah slept, ate, and decided things weren’t so bad.” The conclusion, “Never underestimate the spiritual power of a nap and a snack.” 

The angel of the Lord said to Elijah, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” Through the angel, the messenger, the Lord said, “All that you’ve been through really is too much. I understand that, but I need you to continue in this work, so for a time, quiet the drum of your life and rest for a minute.”

Last week, we spoke about desiring God above all things and how God makes Himself available to us when we do. The Lord says, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13) The Psalmist writes, “The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.” (Psalm 145:18) However, there are times in our lives when the drum is beating so quickly and so loudly that we say, “I desire you Lord, but I don’t have the time to seek you. The banging of the drum of my life is so “loud” that I can’t shout above all the racket to call on You.” Like Elijah, the journey is too much for us, and we may reach a point where we love God, but we just can’t find the energy to care.

Thomas Merton writes, “We live in a state of constant semi-attention to the sound of voices, music, traffic, or the generalized noise of what goes on all the time around us. This keeps us immersed in a flood of racket and words… Resigned and indifferent, we share semiconsciously in the mindless mind of Muzak and radio commercial which pass for ‘reality.’” 

The beat of the drum becomes so loud that it drives out everything else and makes us indifferent to many things, including God. This is the “demon of acedia, [defined as] the restless spiritual boredom and disgust with existence that would lure one from prayer into ultimately dissatisfying distractions… and eventually away from God.” (The New Ressourcement, “Thomas Aquinas, the ‘Nones,’ and the ‘Dones’”)

When the beat of the drum, the Muzak, life, the journey becomes too much, the acedia sets in, and we shut down and may even shut off our connection to God. When it happened to Elijah, God said, “Here, have a cookie. Take a nap. Find some silence and rest for a bit. You’ll feel better and then be able to continue.” He did, and it worked. Jesus did the same thing with His disciples after they had been going strong.

We do not know how long they were gone, but prior to our Gospel reading today, we know that Jesus sent the disciples out, two-by-two, and “they went out and proclaimed that people should repent.  And they cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them.” (Mark 6:12-13) Today’s Gospel begins with their return from this mission trip, and Jesus says to them, “‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.”

The Lord knew how loudly the drum had been beating in the disciples’ ears. He knew they were exhausted, so instead of allowing them to reach the used-up condition of Elijah, He said to them, “Come away to a quiet place with me. Let’s have a cookie, maybe take a nap, and ‘hang out’ for a while.” As with Elijah, who encountered God in the stillness of the mountain, the disciples were also able to have an encounter with Jesus in the stillness of that place. Sure, the crowds eventually find them, and they all have to go back to work, but for a time, like in the beginning, they were allowed to walk with God in the Garden—to be with one another and enjoy each other’s company and fellowship. In doing so, God was able to heal their weary bodies and souls.

When was the last time you just ‘hung out’ with God? When was the last time you went away to a quiet place and rested in Him? Jesus says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) This rest is a gift offered to us today—the gift of healing, renewal, and refreshment. Give yourself permission to stop. Grab a hammer and a chisel and go to work on that drum. Have a cookie, lie down in the green pasture beside the still waters, take a nap, and spend time being with God. By doing so, He will revive your soul. Like Elijah and the disciples, you can be renewed and then continue with the work He has set before you.

Edwina Gateley is a speaker and spiritual writer. She wrote the poem, Let Your God Love You. It makes for a beautiful prayer.

Let us pray: 

Be silent.
Be still.
Alone.
Empty
Before your God.
Say nothing.
Ask nothing.
Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.
God knows.
God understands.
God loves you
With an enormous love,
And only wants
To look upon you
With that love.
Quiet.
Still.
Be.

Let your God—
Love you.

(Psalms of a Laywoman, p.59)

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Sermon: William White

The first Holy Communion of the Church of England was held in 1607 in Jamestown, Virginia.  It was a slow start, but the church began to take hold and was quite successful; however, because of its ties to England, that changed following America’s independence.  According to Powell Mills Dawley in Our Christian Heritage, “the American Revolution left the Anglican parishes shattered, stripped of most of their financial support, weakened by the flight of many clergy and thousands of members, with a number of buildings destroyed and property lost.”

Not only did the citizens of the new United States abandon the church, but in a very real sense, the Church of England did as well.  The primary issue was that we had no American Bishops.  As you know, a Bishop is required to Confirm, ordain clergy, and it takes three Bishops to consecrate a new Bishop.  Therefore, if a person wanted to be ordained a priest, they had to make the long and perilous trip to England.

To remedy the situation, a few devoted men took up the cause.  Among them were Samuel Seabury, Samuel Provoost, the person we celebrate today, William White, and James Madison – all four of which made the journey to England to be consecrated.  Then, having enough American Bishops, Thomas Clagget was consecrated Bishop in New York, and the Church in America could function separately from the Church of England.  In 1789 – the first General Convention – under these men’s leadership, specifically William White, the American Episcopal Church was fully organized. 

William White served as our first and fourth presiding Bishop in 1789 and from 1795 to 1836.  In addition, he served for 57 years as the rector of St. Peter and Christ Church in Philadelphia.  He died in 1836.

A lengthy obituary devoted to Bishop White appeared in the National Gazette and Literary Register.  In part, it described his character, “…[T]he duties of the several important relations in which he stood to society were performed with undeviating correctness and suavity; he possessed the rare merit of winning the respect and love of an entire community to which he was an ornament and a blessing. His piety was deep and unfeigned; his walking humble yet dignified; his acquirements profound; in his mind the welfare of the Christian church was always the prominent consideration…He was one of those examples of steady virtue sent upon earth by Divine Providence, as if to prove how near the great pattern of perfection it is permitted to approach.”

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus asked St. Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”  This was the restoration of St. Peter after he denied Jesus three times the night before Jesus was crucified.  It is also a command given to all who would be followers of Jesus – “Feed my sheep.”  In those three words, God calls us all, lay and ordained, to care for those we encounter.  To care for them in both their physical and spiritual needs.  For us in the Episcopal Church, William White is an exemplary role model for us to emulate.  When you consider what it means to be true and faithful to the Church, you need only consider him to find the “great pattern of perfection” that leads to becoming a faithful servant to God and His One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church. 

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Sermon: Great Vigil

Photo by zhang kaiyv on Unsplash

The words of the Exsultet, “This is the night, when…”

This is the night when the Church attempts to read all of Holy Scripture in one sitting.

This is the night when the choir and organist threaten to go on strike if I add one more piece of music.

This is the night when the parish administrator double-dog dares me to make one more change to the bulletin.

This is the night when the congregation asks, “Are we there yet?”

This is the night, the eve of our salvation when we enter into the darkness of the tomb and create a spark that becomes a flame that sets the whole world ablaze with the Light of Christ.  

This is the night when we baptize Nolan, and Crawford receives his first communion.

From the song, December, 1963, by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, “O, what a night!”

Of all the liturgies throughout the church year, this is the highest and most grand. It is the culmination of all the other days and festivals, from the Incarnation to the Transfiguration to Good Friday to Easter. On this night, we remember all that God has done for His people, we give thanks for what He has done for us, and we celebrate the bringing into the Kingdom those new members who receive the cleansing that comes through Baptism and the participation of others in Christ’s body by becoming one with Jesus through receiving the Holy Sacrament. O, what a night.

Tonight is a reminder that we are not alone in this world. It is a reminder that the Church Triumphant—those who have gone before us—and the Chruch Militant—we today—are bound together in love through baptism into Christ’s death and resurrection. That through Jesus’ giving of Himself, we truly become one with Him and each other.

I will not be long-winded tonight because everything you see and hear is a sermon. So, I’ll encourage you to be one in Christ Jesus. So many things seek to divide us, but the bonds of love are stronger than any of these, and the only way those bonds can be severed is if we intentionally cut them ourselves. 

You are Christ’s one holy catholic and apostolic Church. Let us receive Nolan into our family through her baptism and then participate with Crawford in his first communion. O, what a night.

“The candidate for Holy Baptism will now be presented.” BCP p.301.

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Sermon: Easter Sunday 2024

Doc Pierre decided that he wanted to get into the ranching business, so he went out and purchased himself a bunch of cows and put them out on the pasture. He also knew he would need a bull, so he called up one of his hands, Ol’ Boudreaux, and gave him the plan. 

“Boudreaux,” he says, “I’m going out to find the bull. Once I’ve purchased one, you hook the trailer to that pick ‘em up truck of yours and come fetch it.”

“How will I know?” Bou asks.

Doc Pierre says, “I’ll send a telegram,” and it was all set.

Doc Pierre goes out searching for the bull with $5,000 in his pocket. He finds one for exactly $5,000. Hoping to lower the price, he asks the rancher if that is the best offer. “Well, I suppose I could let it go for $4,999.” Doc Pierre thinks it’s a good deal and takes him up on it. Then, he heads to Western Union to send the telegram to Boudreaux, but it is there that he learns it’ll cost him $1 per word, and all he’s got left is a $1. He thinks on it a moment, then writes out a one-word message to Boudreaux.

The telegraph operator looks at it questioningly, then back up to Doc Pierre. Doc Pierre nods in understanding and explains, “Boudreaux don’t read so good, so he’ll have to sound it out first. He’ll get the message.” The telegraph operator said OK and sent the one-word telegram: “Comfortable.”

About an hour later, Boudreaux showed up with the pick ‘em up truck and trailer.

Doc Pierre sent, “Comfortable,” and Boudreaux had to sound it out, “Come.. for… da… bull.”

Have you heard of response latency? It is defined as “The interval of time elapsing between a stimulus and a response.” (Source) You may not have heard of it, but you may have just experienced it. I told you what I hoped was a good joke, and hopefully, you laughed! However, there was a short period of time between the punch line and you getting the joke and laughing. The time between is the response latency. It is the time when you have all the necessary information, but not quite yet understanding. It is the time leading up to a moment of clarity or an “Aha!” moment or epiphany. Response latency.

Our Gospel reading this morning tells us that Mary Magdalene went to the tomb of Jesus, found the stone rolled away, and ran back and told Peter and John. Hearing this, the two disciples take off. John outruns Peter and arrives first. John stands just outside the tomb, but Peter—never really one for restraint—goes barging in. After gaining his courage, John follows. There, they discover the linen shroud that had covered Jesus’ body and the veil that had been over his face, but the body of Jesus is not there. 

The image on the front of your bulletin depicts the scene. The painting St. John and St. Peter at Christ’s Tomb (c.1640) is by the Italian artist Giovanni Francesco Romanelli. Peter, on the left, is pointing at the shroud and seems to be staring off, trying to understand, but for John,  the response latency is ending. The pieces are falling into place. It is like he is holding up his hands to tell Peter to be quiet so that he can think. The reading tells us that the disciple whom Jesus loved, John, “saw and believed.” Romanelli captured that moment.

The reading then tells us that the two returned home, but Mary, who must have followed behind the footrace, remained. She leaned into the tomb and saw and spoke to the angels, then turning, she saw the gardener, not knowing it was Jesus. 

Now, this is an interpretation on my part, but the gardener was there all along, watching. Maybe he was out of sight, or maybe, in all the excitement and rushing about, all three saw him but more or less dismissed him. Either way, I believe the gardener, Jesus, was there watching this entire scene unfold. And I believe Jesus anxiously anticipated the end of John’s response latency when all the pieces came together. When they did, Jesus smiled and said to Himself, “That’s my boy.” Working behind John’s understanding is God’s grace.

St. John later tells us, “We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19), and St. Paul tells us, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8). Believing in Jesus is a grace—a gift from God. Jesus anxiously anticipated all the pieces falling together for John to believe, but the reason this could happen for John was because God first loved John—God’s grace was given to John so that he might believe.

Today, we are the ones standing in the tomb. We are the ones seeing the shroud and other linen. Like John, we have all the teachings of the Prophets and all the words and deeds of Jesus at our disposal. In addition, we have the teachings of the Apostles, the Saints, and the Church. We have all the information. Question: have they fallen into place for you, or are you still in that time of response latency? If yes, if they’ve fallen into place, then have a passion for souls and pray that others may receive the light of the Gospel. If not, then pray for God’s grace, so that He might give you understanding.

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark,” and before Mary Magdalene arrived at the tomb, Jesus rose from the dead—He is “the firstborn from the dead.” (Colossians 1:18) He did this out of His great love for us and accomplished it so that you and I might also be given eternal life with Him. 

This is your first day of the week. The empty tomb is before you. Pray that all the pieces, all the information falls into place and that God’s grace pours out upon you that you might believe and live.

In 1917, the Virgin Mary appeared six times to three young children near Fatima, Portugal. On the second appearance, she gave them a prayer that she asked to be added to the end of each decade of the Rosary. Whether you pray the Rosary or not, it is a prayer worth learning. It is known as the Fatima Prayer.

Let us pray: “Oh, my Jesus, forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of Hell and lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy. Amen.”

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Sermon: “Now”

A few years back, The Netherlandish Proverbs, a painting by Pieter Brueghel, sold for $9M at Christie’s Auction House in London. Painted in 1559, it depicts seventy-six proverbs, many of which we still say today, or at least a version. A man with his hand over his face, peering through his fingers, is “To look through one’s fingers” or to turn a blind eye. Another, “When the gate is open, the pigs run through the wheat,” is for us; when the cat is away, the mice will play. Some are far more obscure, and one of these caught my attention. 

A woman is carrying a bucket of water in her left hand and a set of tongs with a hot coal in the other. The proverb: “She carries fire in one hand and water in the other” means to be two-faced and stir up trouble. It also means to hold two contradictory views. That is not a good thing, and it is a claim that many make about Holy Scripture. It was that issue that I was confronted with this week as I read through the last two verses of our Gospel lesson—“Do not be astonished at this; for the hour is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and will come out—those who have done good, to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of condemnation.” (John 5:28-29) What is the problem?

The last word, “condemnation,” immediately brought to mind our Gospel reading from Sunday. It begins with that most famous of verses, John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” So far, so good. Jesus continued, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” Even more good news, good news that St. Paul will confirm in his letter to the Romans when he writes, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1) Everything is coming up roses until you arrive at those verses from today, how some will experience the “resurrection of condemnation.” 

I thought Jesus said we were past all that condemnation bit. Is this a contradiction in Holy Scripture? Not at all. It only requires that we read the passage from John 5 more closely. It is easy to miss, but before speaking of condemnation, Jesus said, “The hour is coming.” Coming. Not yet. John 3 is speaking of Jesus’ first coming. John 5 is speaking of Jesus’ second coming. No contradiction. 

We are now living in the time when “everyone who believes in [Jesus] may not perish but have eternal life.” However, there is an end date—a time when judgment will come, and for those who do not believe, it is a judgment of condemnation; therefore, the time to choose is not then but now.

In the first verse of our reading from Isaiah, the Lord said, “In a favorable time I listened to you, and in a day of salvation I have helped you.” St. Paul quotes this verse in his second letter to the Corinthians: “In a favorable time I listened to you, and in a day of salvation I have helped you.” Then Paul adds, “Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”

There is no confusion or contradiction; now is the time to come to God. Now is the day. For all of you sitting here, I believe you have, but who do you know that has not? How might you guide them and share your faith with them so that on the last day, they too will be judged and receive the resurrection of life—life eternal with our God?

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

Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Isaiah 1:18)

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

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

The Word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

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Sermon: Proper 15 RCL A – “Madness”

Photo by nikko macaspac on Unsplash

Ol’ Boudreaux had never been up in one of those flying machines until one day when some fella came along offering rides. All of Boudreaux’s friends put down their money and took the ride, but Boudreaux just couldn’t trust it. Finally, when his friends started calling him “chicken” and “scaredy cat,” Bou agreed. He got all strapped in, and the pilot took off. When the flight ended, everyone rushed up and asked how it went. Once he had a little nip and got his nerves back, he said, “It wasn’t too bad, but I never really trusted it, so I never put all my weight down in the seat.”

If I had a favorite televangelist, it would have to be Jesse Duplantis—kind of a crazy southern fella with plenty of stories. When I was living in Montana, Jesse came to the capital city for a revival, and I had to see him, so a friend and I drove up. It was everything I expected, except for the beginning. 

If you’ve ever watched one of the events, you know that they do all the preaching and shouting up front, and then at the end, they start the healing—lots of slapping on the foreheads and all that. However, Jesse did just the opposite. He always talked about “being sick and tired of being sick and tired,” so he had the healing service at the beginning. He said, “There’s no point in you sitting all the way through the sermon feeling sick and tired if I can heal you now.” So, he did.

I thought of that for two reasons. First, today, following the confession and before the peace, we will be offering the Sacrament of Unction—the sacrament of healing. For the record, I will not be slapping anyone on the forehead unless they need it. The second reason for telling you about Jesse is because this is back-to-church Sunday. The youth are back in school, and we begin to settle into more of a routine instead of all the goings on of summer. In a way, today is the beginning, and like Jesse, I thought we’d offer the healing up front instead of waiting.

Much is happening in today’s Gospel, but there is the healing of a little girl. A gentile woman came to Jesus and said, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” A discussion follows regarding Jesus’ mission on earth, but in the end, “‘Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.’ And her daughter was healed instantly.”

Unlike ol’ Boudreaux, who didn’t trust enough to put all his weight down, this woman did. Great is your faith—your trust—in God to do those things you ask.

I found a quote in my daily reading. It is from a 19th-century Russian mystic, Vladimir Soloviev. He said, “It is madness not to believe in God; it is the greater madness to believe in Him only in part.” (Source, August 15) It is madness not to fly. It is even greater madness not to put all your weight down. 

If you believe in God, then why do you not trust Him completely? Why do you “believe in Him only in part”? When you call out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David,” do you believe God will answer, or are you putting it out there just in case He’s in the mood?

Last week, I went down to Austin to visit friends. While there, I had a few hours to myself, so I did what we all do—I visited a church to pray a rosary. 

The church I selected was a Maronite Church. They are an Eastern Catholic Church instead of a Western (Roman) Catholic Church. Anyhow, I read up on them on the internet, saw that they were open, and it was only about a mile away, so I decided to walk.

Did I mention it was 105° and there was an excessive heat advisory? Yeah, Mr. Brilliant here. I take off. I arrive at the church soaking wet, sweat running off me, only to discover that the church is locked up tight. Only the office was open, and no one was around. I look around for a few minutes, then sit on a bench in the shade to cool off. Since I was there, I decided to go ahead and pray my Rosary and then call an Uber to get back to the hotel.

I made it through two decades of the Rosary and had not cooled down at all. It seemed I was only getting hotter, so my prayers were very distracted, and I didn’t feel like I could… connect, so I said to Mary, you could send me a nice cool breeze so I’ll know you’re there. It was more a silly prayer than a proper prayer.

About halfway through the third decade, I heard a noise and looked up. It was the priest (it turns out it was actually the Bishop.) He invited me to come inside and finish my prayers, and I quickly took him up on the offer. Somewhere along the fourth decade of the Rosary, I looked up and burst out laughing as the cool breeze of the air-conditioner blew on me. I never really expected Mary to send me a cool breeze, but she did. I believed, but I didn’t really believe. I never really sat down.

When you call out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David,” regardless of whether or not you think your request is silly or not, go ahead and sit all the way down. Know that your words are being heard and that your Father in Heaven is answering. 

Let us pray: O Christ Jesus, when all is darkness, and we feel our weakness and helplessness, give us the sense of Your presence, Your love, and Your strength. Help us to have perfect trust in Your protecting love and strengthening power so that nothing may frighten or worry us, for living close to You, we shall see Your hand, Your purpose, and Your will through all things. Amen.

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