Tag: God

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Sermon: Heritage Sunday / Feast of St. Matthew

“The most terrifying words in the English language are: I’m from the government, and I’m here to help.” Ronald Reagan

For those of you who are married, I warn you up front not to laugh at this one. “‘I am’ is reportedly the shortest sentence in the English language. Could it be that ‘I do’ is the longest sentence?” George Carlin

The English language—words and grammar. One misspelled word, and you’ll either end up being holy, someone approaching sainthood (such as myself), or being wholly, someone who’s been shot up the OK Coral. One forgotten comma can turn “Let’s eat, gramma,” a call to supper, into “Let’s eat gramma,” an unfortunate act of cannibalism.

After the basics, you get into nouns and verbs, pronouns and adverbs, which brings me to Little Johnny. Johnny was sitting in English class and not paying attention. The teacher, looking to bring him back from wherever his mind was, pointed at him and said, “Name two pronouns.” Johnny replied, “Who, me?” 

Based on those who laughed, we now know who is good with words and grammar.

“Who, me?” 

In the Church of San Luigi dei Francesi in Rome, there are three magnificent paintings by the great Italian artist Caravaggio. Each of the paintings portrays a significant moment in the life of our Patron Saint, Matthew. There is the Inspiration of St. Matthew, the angel giving Matthew the words of his Gospel, and the Martyrdom of St. Matthew, depicting his death. However, the one that concerns us today is the Calling of St. Matthew. 

In the painting, Matthew is seated with five other tax collectors who are counting their money. Also in the scene are Jesus and Peter, both of whom are pointing at Matthew.

Matthew’s right hand is stretched out on the table, counting coins, while with his left hand, Matthew is pointing back to himself. The expression on his face—“Who, me?”

I know that feeling. When I first heard God calling me into service, my first response was, “Don’t be stupid.” Yet, God was calling me, and God was calling Matthew. Both of us responded, “Who, me?” And in each case, God responded, “Yes, you.”

Another of the greatest artists is Rembrandt. In his early career, Rembrandt was wildly successful. Painting and selling portraits, buying the big house, and all the finest art to fill it—living the life. However, all the big spending eventually caught up to him, and he ended up losing it all and dying penniless. Even though he had lost everything, he continued to paint, and the subject he most frequently painted was himself. Rembrandt painted sixty-three self-portraits. This was not an exercise in vanity, nor was it simply to practice his art. He painted himself, year after year, as a “‘search for the spiritual through the channel of his innermost personality.’ Rembrandt felt that he had to enter into his own self, into his dark cellars as well as into his light rooms, if he really wanted to penetrate the mystery of man’s interiority.” (You are the Beloved, Henri Nouwen, June 27) Through those sixty-three self-portraits, Rembrandt was searching for himself. In the process, he understood that as he lived his life, he was also repainting his interior self—a continuous reworking of an interior self-portrait.

Jesus pointed at Matthew, and Matthew pointed at himself and asked, “Who, me?” Jesus responded, “Yes, you.” So, like Rembrandt, Matthew was left with the option of repainting his interior self-portrait or remaining as he was, sitting at a table counting coins, never realizing the life Jesus was calling him to. It is the same for each of us.

We each have an interior self-portrait that is being continuously repainted as we seek to know who we truly are. This interior self-portrait has little or nothing to do with the portrait and all the masks we show to the world. Instead, the interior self-portrait includes all the light and all the darkness that you don’t show to anyone. Sometimes, that interior self-portrait is so fluid it has difficulty maintaining form, and we begin to wonder who we actually are.

During World War II, the great German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer was arrested and imprisoned. He would be executed before he could be freed. Although his writing reflects a deep and abiding faith, he, too, had his doubts as to who he truly was. His interior self-portrait was also fluid. During one of those moments, instead of painting an image, Bonhoeffer wrote a poem—Who Am I?

Who am I? They often tell me,
I step out from my cell,
composed, contented and sure,
like a lord from his manor.

Who am I? They often tell me,
I speak with my jailers,
frankly, familiar and firm,
as though I was in command.

Who am I? They also tell me,
I bear the days of hardship,
unconcerned, amused and proud,
like one who usually wins.

Am I really what others tell me?
Or am I only what I myself know of me?
Troubled, homesick, ill, like a bird in a cage,
gasping for breath, as though one strangled me,
hungering for colors, for flowers, for songs of birds…

Am I then, this today and other tomorrow?
Am I both at the same time? In public, a hypocrite
And by myself, a contemptible, whining weakling?

Who am I? Lonely questions mock me.

He then concludes,

Who I really am, you know me, I am thine, O God! (Voices in the Night, p.45)

One more artist, perhaps you’ve not heard of—Charles Boyer. Boyer began working for Walt Disney and Disneyland in 1960. In one of his paintings, he has Mickey Mouse painting a self-portrait. Mickey is leaning over, looking in a mirror, and busily painting his portrait. However, the image on the canvas is not that of Mickey Mouse. It is Walt Disney. Mickey Mouse is painting the image of his creator that is within him. 

Bonhoeffer asked, “Who am I?” He concluded, “Who I really am, you know me, I am thine, O God!” Bonhoeffer was painting his interior self-portrait and, in doing so, was attempting to paint the image of his Creator that was within him.

Rembrandt looked in the mirror and painted his sixty-three self-portraits, all along, searching for the image of the Creator Who was within him.

Jesus looked at Matthew and said, “Follow me.” In doing so, Jesus invited Matthew to follow Him and repaint the interior self-portrait. At first, Matthew probably thought, “Who, me?” But then we are told, “he got up and followed” Jesus. Matthew repainted the interior self-portrait, and it revealed the image of his Creator.

St. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, tells them “to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Ephesians 4:22-24) We are called to do the same—to put off the old self and to put on the new self. To repaint the interior self-portrait into the image of our Creator… into the image of Jesus. 

When Jesus points to us, we, along with so many others, likely say, “Who, me?” Jesus smiles and says, “Yes, you. You follow me. Repaint the interior self-portrait in My Image, for I am your loving Creator, and you are Mine.”

Today, Jesus hands you a set of paints, some brushes, and a fresh white canvas. He invites you to follow Him. He invites you to repaint yourself in the Image of your Creator. In His Image. You say, “But I can’t paint!” From Proverbs, we read,

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
 and do not rely on your own insight.”
(Proverbs 3:5)

You can’t paint? Trust in the Lord to guide you. Don’t rely on yourself; He will reveal His Image in you.

Let us pray:
God, our Father,
You redeemed us
and made us Your children in Christ.
Through Him You have saved us from death
and given us Your Divine life of grace.
By becoming more like Jesus on earth,
may we come to share His glory in Heaven.
Give us the peace of Your kingdom,
which this world does not give.
By Your loving care protect the good You have given us.
Open our eyes to the wonders of Your Love
that we may serve You with willing hearts.
Amen.

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Sermon: Ignatius of Loyola

Ignatius of Loyola (as Superior General) by Francisco de Zurbarán

Born in 1491, Ignatius of Loyola began his life as a privileged young man.  In his autobiography, he writes, “Up to his twenty-sixth year, he was a man given over to the world’s vanities and special delight in the exercise of arms with a great and vain desire of winning glory.” That great desire for glory nearly cost him his life as he was severely injured in the battle of Pamplona in 1521. During this time of healing, he had a great spiritual awakening and understood that his life must be dedicated to the work of Jesus. No longer would he be a knight in the battles of the world, but he would become Christ’s knight in the battle for souls.

This dedication led him to write his Spiritual Exercises, a collection of prayers and exercises practiced over 30 days—a rather intense spiritual retreat if practiced fully. Next, following his education, he formed the Society of Jesus, the Jesuits, and became their first Superior General.

His prayers are some of the most beautiful. For example, to maintain his dedication to Christ, he wrote:

O my God, teach me to be generous,
teach me to serve you as I should,
to give without counting the cost,
to fight without fear of being wounded,
to work without seeking rest,
to labour without expecting any reward,
but the knowledge that I am doing your most holy will.

In our Gospel reading, we are told of one coming to Jesus and saying, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus told him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

I imagine it is the same with our modern farming equipment as it was with oxen in the time of Jesus: If you keep turning to look where you have been instead of where you are going, you will have rows as crooked as Louisiana politicians. You must stay focused on what is ahead, not behind.

The same is very true when Christ calls someone into his service. He calls us to abandon our former way of life and turn to him. Focus on him and him alone. If we are constantly looking back, wondering what we might have done, thinking of the temptations of our old life, or even dwelling on past sins that God has long since forgiven, then—as Jesus states later in Luke’s Gospel—one like this cannot be my disciple.

For us, Ignatius of Loyola is one who put his hand to the plow and appears to have never even considered looking back. He is an example to us of what unwavering faith and dedication to Christ and his Church can accomplish. May we learn from him and emulate his life in keeping our focus on the Master.

A few prayers are near to my heart: Ave Maria/Hail Mary, The prayer to St. Michael the Archangel, and the Anima Christi, Soul of Christ, by Ignatius. I’ll conclude with it. Let us pray:

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
Good Jesus, hear me.
Within the wounds, shelter me.
From turning away, keep me.
From the evil one, protect me.
At the hour of my death, call me.
Into your presence lead me
to praise you with all your saints.
Forever and ever.
Amen.

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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: Proper 15 RCL B – “Desires”

There was a frog that absolutely knew his destiny was to turn into a handsome young prince. But for confirmation, he decided to visit a fortuneteller. The fortuneteller brought the frog in and gazed into her crystal ball. She said, “Oh, I see something. You are going to meet a beautiful young woman.”

The frog gets very antsy, “Yes, I knew it. I’m going to become a prince.”

The fortuneteller continues, “From the moment she sets eyes on you, she will have an insatiable desire to know all about you. She will be compelled to get close to you—you’ll fascinate her.”

The frog is very excited. It is everything he has ever desired. He asks, “Where am I? At a party? A restaurant? A palace?”

The fortuneteller gazes even deeper into her crystal ball, then, looking up, answers, “No, Biology class.”

The things we desire. Author Jackson Brown, Jr. said, “I’ve learned that if you give a pig and a boy everything they want, you’ll get a good pig and a bad boy.” (Live and Learn and Pass it On) There’s a good bit of wisdom in that. Wisdom that Herod could have benefited from.

Today’s Gospel reading is one of the few in our lectionary that does not include the words of Jesus. Instead, we have an incident from the life of Herod and his dealings with John the Baptist.

John the Baptist had condemned Herod for marrying his brother’s wife, Herodias. Was John correct in this condemnation? Yes. From the Law of Moses, “If a man takes his brother’s wife, it is impurity.” Herod may not have minded so much, but Herodias, his wife, took it personally and held a grudge against John. So, when the opportunity arose, it was probably she who convinced Herod to arrest John. 

One day, while John is in prison, Herod throws himself a great birthday party and invites all his little minions to tell him how great he is. To impress them, we are told that he asked his “daughter Herodias” to come in and dance. This is a case of Daryl, his brother Daryl, and their brother Daryl. Herod’s wife is Herodias, and his stepdaughter is Princess Herodias, also known as Salome. Salome comes in and dances. Herod is so impressed with the dance that he makes an outlandish offer to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it. Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” Salome is a child and has no idea what to ask for, so she runs to Momma and asks her. Having her grudge against John the Baptist, Momma asked for John’s head, probably because she feared her husband would eventually release John because he liked him. Having made the outlandish offer to the girl in front of all those guests, Herod had to make good on his promise to give her whatever she asked or lose face. Bottom line: John was beheaded.

There’s much we can learn from this, but one of my questions was, why did Herod promise up to half his kingdom to Salome? The answer, or at least part of it, is desire. The girl was young and beautiful, and the dance was provocative. Herod saw something he desired, and that desire drove him to lust for the girl, make outlandish promises, experience pride in his unwillingness to reverse course, go against his conscience, and ultimately to even greater sin in ordering the death of John. All of that because of desire.

There is a healthy desire for something. Such a desire leads to motivation, imagination, hope, and more. But so often, the things we desire are either of no consequence in the larger picture or, like with Herod, sinful.

Think of something you desire or want that falls outside the healthy category. Sometimes, the object of our desire is so elusive or outside the realm of possibility we know we will never be able to obtain it—perfect example: Scarlett Johansson. Never going to happen. You know it, and I know it, and if she knew I even existed, she would know it, but what if I didn’t? What if I became one of those weird, obsessive stalkers? What would that lead to other than a lengthy prison sentence? I would covet what others could have, and in that, I would become disappointed, angry, and frustrated. My actions would probably resemble something of Herod’s or the frog pinned down in a biology class.

At other times, we have the means to obtain those things we desire. Lucky you. However, how many times have you desired something in an unhealthy way, actually ended up getting it, but then being less than 100% happy with it, even disappointed? Sometimes, that’s a bit like reading a good book and hearing they’re making a movie out of the book. You get all excited, await the release date, watch the previews with anticipation, and then… eh. In other cases, when you finally obtain the object of your desire, you ask, “Now what?” “What is there to look forward to?” “What am I supposed to do?” “Is this all there is?” In those cases, instead of being happy, we start wanting something else, and the cycle repeats itself time and time again.

In all of these cases, what did it cost you? Time? Energy? Money? Joy? Peace? Happiness? What did it cost the people around you? Did you even consider them? Was it worth it? In seeking it out, how did you sin? Who did you hurt or neglect? How many blessings did you overlook or ignore because you were so singularly focused on this one desire? At that stage, perhaps we didn’t order anyone’s death, but we are no better than Herod, who desired a dancing girl.

So, again, think of something you desire, even those healthy desires, and replace it. Replace it with God. What if your desire for God was as great as your desire for things of this world? What if you were one of those weird obsessive stalkers, but the object of your obsession, of your desire, is God? Is that an unreasonable or unobtainable desire? No. 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) Once you have come into the presence of God will you say, “Now what? Is this all there is?” No. 

“‘Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!

‘For who has known the mind of the Lord,
    or who has been his counselor?’

‘Or who has given a gift to him
    that he might be repaid?’

For from him and through him and to him are all things.’” (Romans 11:33-36)

The knowledge, wisdom, love, and person of God and His Son Jesus Christ are inexhaustible. You will never delve the depths of God. There is always more, but unlike desiring more of this world, when you desire God, it never gets old or frustrating or boring. It only becomes richer and more exciting. 

St. Augustine wrote his autobiography, Confessions, around the year 400. In the first chapter, he states, “Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.” Then he asks, “Oh! how shall I find rest in Thee? Who will send Thee into my heart to inebriate it, so that I may forget my woes, and embrace Thee my only good?”

Like the things of this world, desiring God will cost you time and energy, but as Augustine says, God is the only one—the only desire—that will give you rest, where peace and joy are in such measure that the cup of your soul is overflowing. It might mean that I don’t end up on a date with Scarlett Johansson, but hopefully, I won’t end up splayed out with my hands and feet pinned down in some biology class, either. 

King David wrote, “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.” (Psalm 73:25) What of all the rest? Allow God to work these things out according to His good purposes, for as Jesus tells us, “Seek first—desire first—the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” (Matthew 6:33) 

Let us pray: Father in heaven, our hearts desire the warmth of your love, and our minds are searching for the light of your Word. Increase our longing for Christ our Savior and give us the strength to grow in love, that the dawn of his coming may find us rejoicing in his presence and welcoming the light of his truth. We ask this in the name of Jesus the Lord. Amen.

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Sermon: Wednesday in Holy Week

Photo by David Werbrouck on Unsplash

The deadline for completing the construction of a skyscraper was near, so the crews worked around the clock. The night crew was hard at work on the twenty-first floor when unknown to the others, one of the welders went over the edge. 

Dropping everything, he flung his hands into the pitch-black and grabbed an edge. Hanging there, he yelled, screamed, and prayed that someone would come, but because of all the other construction noise, no one heard, and his grip began to slip. 

He let out a scream and fell… three feet, and landed on the scaffolding that was below him. Scaffolding he had not been able to see in the dark. 

There is a physical darkness, but we also know that there is a spiritual darkness, and it is this spiritual darkness Paul tells us we do battle against it. “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12)  Therefore, Jesus tells us, “The light (He is the way, the truth, and the light)… the light is with you for a little longer.  Walk while you have the light, so that the darkness may not overtake you.  If you walk in the darkness, you do not know where you are going.  While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.” (John 12:35-36a)  And it is through Jesus, as Paul teaches us again, that we “are all children of light and children of the day.” (1 Thessalonians 5:5a)

Our Gospel tells us, “When Jesus had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot.  After he received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him.  Jesus said to him, ‘Do quickly what you are going to do.’” (John 13:26b-27) Then, “after receiving the piece of bread, Judas immediately went out.  And it was night.” (John 13:30)  As he turned from Jesus and left, Judas entered the darkness, both physically and spiritually.

Later that evening, “Judas brought a detachment of soldiers together with police from the chief priests and the Pharisees, and they came there with lanterns and torches and weapons.” (John 18:3) “They came there with lanterns and torches”—they came there in the dark and carried out the works of darkness, the works of the “spiritual forces of evil.”

For Judas, there was a threshold, both literally and spiritually, that he crossed when he went out. He intentionally stepped out of the light of the room where Jesus and the others were gathered—the Light of Christ—and, in a similar manner, he intentionally stepped into the spiritual darkness and was lost.

For Judas and for us, the threshold between the light and the dark is the place of testing. It is the place of free will, where we choose light or dark. The biggest mistake we can make is to think there can be a compromise.  “I won’t go so far into the night that I can’t see the threshold leading back into the light.”  That’s like a woman saying she’s only a little bit pregnant.  There is not a little bit of darkness. We either walk in the dark or we walk in the light. Therefore, walk in the light and believe in the light so that you may remain children of light.  This is God’s plan for us; through the guidance and strength of his Holy Spirit, we can be obedient.

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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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Entering the Walls

Brick Wall

There was once when it actually worked…

On the seventh day, they got up at daybreak and marched around the city seven times in the same manner, except that on that day they circled the city seven times.  The seventh time around, when the priests sounded the trumpet blast, Joshua commanded the army, “Shout! For the Lord has given you the city! … When the trumpets sounded, the army shouted, and at the sound of the trumpet, when the men gave a loud shout, the wall collapsed; so everyone charged straight in, and they took the city. (Joshua 6:16-17, 20)

The God of the Old Testament is the God of the New Testament, but it is in His revealing in the New Testament that we find another way:

When Jesus entered Jerusalem… – Matthew 12:10

Jesus entered a house… – Mark 3:20

Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. – Luke 19:1

I came from the Father and entered the world… – John 16:28

What I find curious is that we, as a Christian people, often try the way of the Israelites rather than the way of Jesus.  We wrongly believe that we can stand outside the wall, shout at the tops of our lungs, and the walls of the city will come tumbling down.

“You are sinning by _____!  (Book Chapter : verse – verse)”

“God said, ‘_____.’  (Book Chapter : verse)”  [Swing baseball bat.]

Yes, Jesus gave them a tongue lashing, flipped over some tables, and ran off a few opportunist, but mostly Jesus “entered.”  The world.  The city.  The house.  The Temple.  LIVES.  Jesus entered lives.  He sat down and ate a meal, had a conversation, touched, healed…  He revealed the Father – not by yelling and beating them with a baseball bat of Holy Scripture – but by entering in and revealing the Father that was within Himself. (John 14:9)  Instead of standing outside and yelling at the city walls, enter in and reveal Christ to it’s inhabitants.  It won’t mean that you are consorting with the enemy, compromising the faith, soiling your unblemished soul, apostatizing, etc.; it will mean that you are following Jesus and entering in.

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