Jesus Christ – Page 29 – Candle in a Cave

22 June 2023

Sermon: Proper 7 RCL A – “Overcoming Mountains”

Question: There are ten of them, and if you add up the length of each, they would measure 28 feet, 5 inches. What are they? Answer: Lee Redmond’s fingernails.

World records.

3.46 inches is the longest nose and adorns a fella’s face in Turkey.

The highest-paid musician over twelve months is Taylor Swift. She earned $186 million over twelve months in 2018-2019.

The tallest man is 8 feet 3 inches, and the shortest woman is just over two feet (only weighing nine pounds more than she did when she was born.)

The loudest recorded cat purr is 67.8 decibels. That’s the equivalent of an alarm clock.

There is even a world record for holding the most world records. That would be Ashrita Furman. He holds over 800, including one for climbing Mount Fuji on a pogo stick.

The thing about most world records, especially the more relevant ones—land speed records, high jumps, etc.—is that someone is always gunning for you. With all my singing talent, I’m working on the Taylor Swift one.

We like to have records for all sorts of things, from the tallest building to the tallest mountain. However, we begin to get ourselves into trouble when we say that a particular event was the biggest, strongest, or worst. Nassim Taleb makes the point in his book, Antifragile. Taleb uses Fukushima nuclear reactor to prove the point. He says this mistake can be seen “in the Fukushima nuclear reactor, which experienced a catastrophic failure in 2011 when a tsunami struck. It had been built to withstand the worst past historical earthquake, with the builders not imagining much worse—and not thinking that the worst past event had to be a surprise, as it had no precedent.” Taleb calls this the Lucrecian Problem.

Lucretius was “the Latin poetic philosopher who wrote that the fool believes that the tallest mountain in the world will be equal to the tallest one he has observed.” Applied to the world today, Taleb says, “Professionals look in the past for information on the so-called worst-case scenario and use it to estimate future risks – this method is called ‘stress testing.’ They take the worst historical recession, the worst war, the worst historical move in interest rates, or the worst point in unemployment as an exact estimate for the worst future outcome. But they never notice the following inconsistency: this so-called worst-case event, when it happened, exceeded the worst [known] case at the time.” (Source) Such occurrences have taken place throughout history.

In 701 BC, the Assyrian army invaded and conquered the Northern Kingdom of Israel, taking many Israelites into captivity. Afterward, that same army moved south and laid siege to Jerusalem.

Several estimates as to the size of the army are given, and they go as high as 300,000 fighting soldiers, so they should have been able to destroy Jerusalem quickly. However, Hezekiah was King of the South and Jerusalem and was considered a very righteous king, so when he prayed, the Lord answered. “That very night the angel of the Lord set out and struck down one hundred eighty-five thousand in the camp of the Assyrians.” (2 Kings 19:35)

Later, about 100 years, the Babylonians laid siege to Jerusalem, but at this time, the Israelites had begun to worship false gods, and their kings were seen as wicked, so the prophets spoke against them, calling them back to the Lord. Jeremiah, whom we heard from this morning, was one of the prophets.

Our reading is a bit out of context, so it is difficult to understand whom Jeremiah is speaking to, but with a bit of work, we discover that he is speaking against the priests in the Lord’s Temple. He is speaking against the Israelites. Why? Because Jeremiah had just preached a sermon where he told them that the Lord, using the Babylonians, was about to destroy Jerusalem and all its inhabitants. Those priests didn’t much care for this message, so they beat Jeremiah and threw him in the stocks. After his release, Jeremiah spoke those words we heard today: “They will be greatly shamed, for they will not succeed.”

Near the end, the Israelites tried to do right, but it was too little, too late. The Lord had decided. The city would be destroyed, and it was. Many factors ushered in that destruction, but I think one of them was the Lucrecian Problem—they believed “that the tallest mountain in the world will be equal to the tallest one they have observed.” In their arrogance, they believed that they had already faced the tallest mountain, the Assyrians, and defeated them; therefore, they believed they were indestructible; after all, they were God’s Chosen People. They could do what they liked and stand against any enemy, but the Lord said, “Allow Me to introduce you to the Babylonians.” A much larger mountain that fell upon them and utterly destroyed them in its power. The Lucrecian Problem—it works on a large scale, but also small.

If you were to think back over your life, do you know which—of all your days—was the worst? I think many people do. Mine is very vivid, and perhaps I’ll share that with you someday, but when we think of that day, we might say something to the effect of, “Things couldn’t be any worse.” If you say that aloud, someone might respond, “Don’t say that!” Because the truth is, they can be. There can always be a bigger mountain out there, just over the horizon.

For many—maybe all of us—that is a terrifying thought. So, how can we prepare ourselves so that when it arrives, we are not the ones who are utterly destroyed?

First, we can take to heart the words of Jesus, “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.”

To overcome the fear of the next mountain in our life is to recognize Whom we belong to and our worth in His eyes. We are the Lord’s possession, we are His children, and He loves us so much that He gave His one and only Son that we might be saved, so do not give into the fear that rises up within you when you first see that mountain. Look it in the proverbial eye and tell it to Whom you belong. Not in arrogance, but in faith, for if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” In other words, “Do not fear, for the mountain will not overcome you, but God will overcome it for you.”

Second, we prepare ourselves by practicing our faith, not just when the mountain looms above us but also when the path is relatively easy. Last week, St. Paul said to us in his letter to the Romans, “Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Through our daily walk, we build up our endurance, strengthen our character, and through our faith, as we overcome smaller obstacles, we build up our hope, our confidence in God’s love for us.

If you are sitting here, congratulations, you have survived your worst day—so far. To not succumb to the Lucrecian Problem, realize that more bad days will come, but by not fearing those days—those mountains—because you belong to God, and by developing confidence in God’s love, you will be able to stand and face those things that come against you, regardless of their size.

Let us pray: Lord Jesus Christ, we believe in You as our God and Savior. Make us more faithful to Your Gospel and commandments. By sharing in the Eucharist, may we come to live more fully in the life You have given us. Keep Your Love alive within our hearts and soul so that we may become worthy of You. Teach us to value and be thankful for all of Your Gifts. Please help us to strive for eternal life. Amen.

21 June 2023

Sermon: Nativity of John the Baptist

John the Baptist (right) with the Christ Child, in *The Holy Children with a Shell* by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo

Today we celebrate the nativity of John the Baptist, and I confess that I like his style. The first recorded words of his that we have: “You brood of vipers!” He announced the coming of the Savior and told the people to prepare for what was to come. “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

For some, this message of John’s only made them angry, but for others, it was what they had been waiting for, so instead of fighting him, they asked, “What should we do?” In other words, if being the children of Abraham—the recipients of the First Covenant with God—won’t save us, then what must we do to be saved?

How did John respond?: “Self-flagellation all around. Minimum of 50 lashes each!” “Walk in the desert like me, eating only wild honey and locusts.” “Sit in the scorching sun and read all the Psalms every day.” Was this how John responded? No. Was anything John said for them to do really all that difficult? Not even close.

If you have extra clothes and see someone in need, give them some of yours. If you see someone who is hungry and you can help them, then do so. Let me ask you this: at what age did you learn you were supposed to share? Two? Three? That is all John asked the people to do. To share. To love and care for one another. To the tax collectors, he said, “Do your job fairly. The government needs taxes to provide services, so collect the taxes that are called for, but don’t abuse your position and steal extra from the people.” To the soldiers, he said, “Be the ones who protect the people and not the ones who exploit them.” It sounds like something Jesus said, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” John the Baptist said to those children of Abraham, “Act like decent human beings.”

Through Christ and the New Covenant that he established, we now have been grafted into the family. We are also the children of Abraham. So the question comes to us: Would John the Baptist stand before us and, in a loud and angry voice, address us as a brood of vipers? Children of snakes, instead of children of Abraham? Are we making the same mistakes that the people made then?

We are children of Abraham, not of snakes. We are sons and daughters of God Most High, made perfect through the everlasting Covenant established by Jesus. But we must never lose sight of the fact that we are also called to live like Jesus. St. Paul wrote to the church in Ephesus, “Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” In imitation of Christ, we are called to sacrifice ourselves through radical generosity, not for our benefit but for the benefit of others. In this, we will “Bear fruits worthy of repentance.”

16 June 2023

Sermon: Proper 6 RCL A – “Together”

For June 18, 2023

Walden; or, Life in the Woods, written by Henry David Thoreau, was first published in 1854. In it, Thoreau speaks about the two years, two months, and two days he spent living near Walden Pond in Massachusetts.

Being a naturalist, Thoreau wrote about his observations in nature but also about living a simpler life. He observed, “A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone.” A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can do without. So, what can we do without? The list is a lot longer than you would think.

Some things make life more entertaining, but we can live without them: TV, sports, putt-putt golf—I would say, books, but my mind just won’t go there—social media, etc.

There are other items that make life more convenient, but we can also live without them, such as cars, computers, stoves, running water, coffee makers—note, I did not say coffee—cell phones, and the like.

There are even body parts that are unnecessary: one of your lungs, stomach, appendix, one of your kidneys, spleen; and just ask any politician, and you’ll learn you can live without a brain.

Today, in our Gospel reading, Jesus sent out the twelve disciples and gave them their marching orders: “Proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.” He also told them what they were to go without: “Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff; for laborers deserve their food.” Go and do this work and take nothing with you except the clothes on your back and shoes on your feet. I could understand not sending them out with a second pair of shoes, but no money. Seems foolhardy. What would be the purpose?

I’ve shared with you that my favorite book is The Stand by my friend Stephen King. At one point, four of the characters are sent on a journey. Like Jesus’ disciples, they are told to take only the clothes on their backs and the shoes on their feet. One of the characters, Glen Bateman, is a sociologist. When the discussion comes up, and someone asks why they were sent out with nothing, Glen tries to provide an answer. He says, “Maybe to gain strength and holiness by a purging process…. The casting away of things is symbolic, you know. Talismanic. When you cast away things, you’re also casting away the self-related others that are symbolically related to those things. You start a cleaning-out process. You begin to empty the vessel.” (p.1198)

The same is true with the disciples that Jesus sent out. He sent them without anything so that they could become empty vessels. Not so that they would remain so, but so that they could then be filled with God and a reliance on God.

St. Paul writes to Timothy, “Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver but also of wood and clay, some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work.” (2 Timothy 2:20-21)

The disciple of Jesus is emptied and then set aside for God’s honorable use. Yet notice, in both those instances—The Stand and the Gospel (and, no, I’m not putting them on equal terms)—the one thing those individuals were not told to go without was one another. The four went together in The Stand, and the disciples we learn in Luke and Mark, were sent in pairs; and you see in Matthew’s Gospel, they were named in pairs. You are to go with nothing but the clothes on your back and the shoes on your feet, but you are to go with one another.

I read about a recent study on loneliness that the Surgeon General published in May. The results were published in several sources. In a Forbes interview, the Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murthy, said, “Our epidemic of loneliness and isolation has been an underappreciated public health crisis that has harmed individual and societal health. Our relationships are a source of healing and well-being hiding in plain sight—one that can help us live healthier, more fulfilled and more productive lives.” (Source) We are living in an epidemic of loneliness and isolation. We have so many things that we don’t need, but the one thing we truly need—one another—many are lacking.

Remember the study of the 1,600 Harvard graduates I shared with you last week? The author of the study wrote, “Turns out, there was one—and only one—characteristic that distinguished the happiest 10 percent from everybody else: the strength of their social relationships.” (Source) In sharing that, I focused on our need for relationship with Jesus, but this week, I want you to understand your need for one another, particularly as it relates to your Christian walk and your daily life.

In Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes, “If there is so much blessing and joy even in a single encounter of brother with brother, how inexhaustible are the riches that open up for those who by God’s will are privileged to live in the daily fellowship of life with other Christians!… It is grace, nothing but grace, that we are allowed to live in community with Christian brethren.” (p.20)

Bonhoeffer was thinking of Finkenwalde, the underground seminary he taught during the Nazi reign, but what he said applies to us all. Christianity does not exist outside of community, and it provides benefits to God’s people.

Through our life together, we are able to witness the work of God in one another. We hold one another accountable and can provide guidance. We come together in worship and prayer and live out our faith in word and deed.

A Lutheran pastor and professor, Reed Lessing, tells the story of a Native American ritual for training young braves:

On the night of a boy’s thirteenth birthday, he was placed in a dense forest to spend the entire night alone. Until then, he had never been away from the security of his family and tribe. But on this night, he was blindfolded and taken miles away. When he took off the blindfold, he was in the middle of thick woods. He was terrified!

Every time a twig snapped, he visualized a wild animal ready to pounce. Every time an animal howled, he imagined a wolf leaping out of the darkness. Every time the wind blew, he wondered if a storm was coming.

After what must have seemed like an eternity, the first rays of sunlight entered the interior of the forest. Looking around, the boy saw flowers, trees, and the outline of the path. Then, to his utter astonishment, he saw the figure of a man standing just a few feet away, armed with a bow. It was the boy’s father who had been there all night long!

When we become empty vessels for God, we discover the many things we can live without. However, within our Christian life, we cannot live without one another. Jesus is with us until the end of the ages, but we also need someone beside us to guard and care for us, just as we need to be there to guard and care for others.

Jesus sends us out to do the work He has called us to, but He has called us into relationship with Himself and one another so that we would not be alone along the way. Look around you. These are the ones that God has called you to walk with. They are here for you, and you are here for them. That is a sacred and holy bond, and as Bonhoeffer said, it is a grace—God’s undeserved favor—that we should be in community together.

Let us pray: Heavenly Father, author and inspirer of all things holy, hear our prayers for our Church. Send forth Your Spirit that Your Divine Will may humbly guide us. Touch our hearts with true generosity to raise up a house of God for the inspiration and renewal of all your faithful. We ask this in Jesus’ Name. Amen.

10 June 2023

Sermon: Proper 5 RCL A – “Desire Relationship”

A note to the reader: I’m starting to share my sermons with whoever would like to preach them, which means they will be posted on the blog prior to Sunday so that they are available. Should you attend services at St. Matthew’s, you may want to wait until after the service to read. If you read before the service, please don’t spoil the jokes by shouting out the answers before I’ve told them or discussing them beforehand. I write sermons to be heard, not necessarily read. Thanks.

A woman testified to the transformation in her life that had resulted from her experience in conversion to the Christian faith. She declared, “I’m so glad I got religion. I have an uncle I used to hate so much that I vowed I’d never go to his funeral. But now, why, I’d be happy to go to it any time.”

Christy shared with me the premise of the book The Measure by Nikki Erlick. Afterward, hearing the premise, I wanted to read it, and knowing the premise won’t spoil it for you as it is put forward in the first few pages.

On a particular day, everyone in the world—whether they live in the middle of a sprawling metropolis or are a member of some undiscovered tribe of South America—receives a small box. On the lid of the box is the person’s name and the phrase, “The measure of your life lies within.” Within is a piece of string. What is learned is that both the box and the string are indestructible, and, more importantly, the length of the string represents the length of your life.

After a short time, the scientists come out with a measuring device, and you can measure your string to find out when you will die. How convenient. Some open their boxes and are the first to learn their fate, and others do not, having no desire to know. From there, the story plays out several scenarios, showing the various implications of having and controlling such information. However, what was clear—and a bit obvious—was that the “short-stringers,” those whose lives would soon come to an end, began to live their lives and do those things that they’ve always wanted to and believed would make them happy. That’s what got me to thinking this week, and it reminded me of another book and a particular object. The book is one of great importance and intrigue: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. The object I was thinking of: the Mirror of Erised. For a moment, please bare with the twelve-year-old that runs around inside my head.

The Mirror of Erised—Erised is desire spelled backward. According to the all-wise Professor Albus Dumbledore, the mirror shows us the “deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.” Harry Potter’s parents died when he was a baby, so when he looks in the mirror, he sees himself with his parents standing beside him. Ron Weasley sees himself as a champion and very handsome.

The problem is that Harry keeps returning time after time, spending hours sitting in front of the mirror, gazing at his parents. This is when Professor Dumbledore steps in. He says to Harry, “Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible,” and that “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” When it comes to being happy, the professor says, “The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror; that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is.”

This week, those two ideas—the measure of the string and the Mirror of Erised—came together in my head. I wondered why we would wait until the end to seek out and fulfill those things that would make us happy. If you knew something would bring you happiness, why would you wait until you learned you were going to die to fulfill it? To live it?

Dan Gilbert wrote the book, Stumbling on Happiness. He writes, “We treat our future selves as though they were our children, spending most of the hours of most of our days constructing tomorrows that we hope will make them happy… But our temporal progeny are often thankless.” (Source) When I have more time, I’ll write a book. When I have enough money saved up for retirement, then I’ll take that trip. When things are more secure, I’ll apply for the job I really want.

The piece of string in the book is a literary tool that points to a greater truth. A biblical truth. The Psalmist says to the Lord, “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me when as yet there was none of them.” Jesus said, “Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” The string is fictional, but the number of our days is set. There is no changing them.

Everyone is now thinking, “I’m so glad I came to church this morning. This is such an uplifting and joyous message.” I get that, but it is not a message to depress you. It is a message to inspire. The message: your days are numbered; quit wasting them by looking for happiness in places where you will not find it.

Gilbert, the author of Stumbling on Happiness, was asked in an interview, “How do I find happiness?” He began his answer by saying, “People have been writing books that promise to answer that question for roughly two thousand years, and the result has been a lot of unhappy people and a lot of dead trees.” (Source) We look in that mirror and see all the things that we desire. All the things we believe will make us happy, but we are wrong in our desires.

A scientist, over a considerable period, studied 1,600 Harvard graduates. He writes, “Turns out, there was one—and only one—characteristic that distinguished the happiest 10 percent from everybody else: the strength of their social relationships…. social support was a far greater predictor of happiness than any other factor, more than GPA, family income, SAT scores, age, gender, or race.” “The capacity to love and be loved was the single strength most clearly associated with subjective well-being at age eighty.” (Source) Relationships.

OK, Father John, this is all very interesting, but you haven’t said a word about Jesus—about God. But if you know me, you know that this is ALL about God. God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—and the Imago Dei, the image of God we encounter in one another.

We read the words that the Lord spoke through Hosea, “In their distress they will beg my favor: ‘Come, let us return to the Lord; for it is he who has torn, and he will heal us; he has struck down, and he will bind us up.” Relationship. From our lesson in Romans: Abraham “grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.” And this faith was reckoned to Abraham as righteousness, and through Abraham, it is reckoned to us. Relationship.

“As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’” Matthew said, “I was looking in this mirror, and it showed me fat and happy. Lots of cash, big house on the hill, trophy wife, and 2.5 kids. Once I have all that, I’ll have my people get in touch.” No. Matthew “got up and followed him.” Relationship. “Many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with [Jesus] and his disciples.” Relationship with Jesus and with one another.

Jesus raised the young girl from the dead, and He does the same for us in this life and the next so that we might be in an eternal relationship with Him.

Last week I spoke about how through God’s grace—His undeserved favor—we are the recipients of God’s unfailing love, and through this love, we are invited into the very presence of God. Our response to that love and invitation determines whether or not we will enter into this relationship with Him. It is figuratively looking into Harry Potter’s mirror and seeing the One True Object of our desire, the One and only One that brings to fulfillment all other desires—ourselves with God and one another in relationship.

Jesus said, “Do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’” Jesus said, ‘Don’t be anxious about the false desires you see in the mirror.’ “For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”

You will never receive a box with a piece of string, you will never know the number of your days, and you will never need to. It is truly irrelevant. You only need to know that on this day, you are loved by God, and by receiving, responding, and experiencing that love, your every desire is met.

As King David said,
“Seek the Lord and his strength;
seek his presence continually!”

Let us pray:
Grant me, O Lord my God,
a mind to know you,
a heart to seek you,
wisdom to find you,
conduct pleasing to you,
faithful perseverance in waiting for you,
and a hope of finally embracing you.
Amen.

4 June 2023

Sermon: Trinity Sunday RCL A – “Presence”

Does anyone recognize the names Frank Lee Morris, John Anglin, and Clarence Anglin? What if I told you Clint Eastwood portrayed Frank Morris in a 1979 movie? Well, the movie is Escape from Alcatraz, and it is about those three men and their great escape from Alcatraz prison on June 11, 1962.

It was supposed to be the prison that no one could escape from. Still, those three escaped by using a spoon to dig a tunnel through a concrete wall, paper mâché dummies to represent their sleeping bodies in their cells, and fifty stolen raincoats to build a raft to cross a mile-and-a-half of open water to freedom.

Authorities said they drowned in the process, but no bodies were ever discovered. In 2013 a letter was received, reportedly from one of the Anglin brothers, and said they all survived and had been living in Brazil. And in 2016, a photo of the two brothers that was taken thirteen years after the escape was discovered. There’s been no official confirmation on either of these revelations.

So it seems this was one of the successful prison breaks, but not everyone is so fortunate or intelligent. For example, in 1975, seventy-five individuals attempted to escape via a tunnel out of a Mexican prison. After digging a considerable distance, they surfaced, only to find themselves in the courtroom where they had all been convicted. And in 2012, four men in Brazil attempted to escape through a tunnel they had dug. The first guy got through, but the second, well, he got stuck. The local fire chief said, “[The second man] has a very large physique, and is also very tall. The other prisoners tried to push him, but he stayed stuck in the wall. He started screaming in pain, and that was when the prison guards were alerted.” Jailbirds? More like Jail Dodoes.

Today, in our first lesson, we read the creation account. After all was said and done, God said it was good, but we know the rest of the story. All that God created was still good but became stained by sin, so God removed Adam and Eve from the paradise He had created for them. God drove them “out from the garden of Eden to work the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man, and at the east of the Garden of Eden, he placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life.”

We can read about successful and failed prison breaks—those folks trying to get out—but I would suggest to you this morning that we are like them, but instead of trying to break out of someplace, we have been trying to break back in. Break back into that garden. The place where, like Adam and Eve, we can walk with God because the presence of God is our true home.

It is too long of a quote for a sermon, but it is worth it. In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis wrote, “The Christian says, ‘Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water… If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or to be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death.”

We desire our true country, our true home, which is the presence of God, so we search for ways to get there. At times, we can deceive ourselves into thinking we have found it, but these are only our own machinations. Smoke and mirrors and, in the end, we are like that stocky fella in Brazil and get stuck along the way or like those fellas in Mexico that tunnel out of prison and into the very place where they were condemned. We seek the presence of God through our own devices and are turned away by those cherubim with their flaming sword. So, what is the answer? How do we come into the presence of the Triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?

There was a TV show called Burn Notice. It has seven seasons. I never saw it, but I came across a quote from one of the episodes. The main character is talking about breaking into a safe, and he says, “There are two schools of safe cracking. Some people like to beat the lock; some people like to break the lock. But it doesn’t matter when the safe is sitting wide open.”

We search for ways to break into God’s presence and our true home, but the door, the Way, is already open and made available to us. And not just when we are dead and gone, but this very day. If that is true, which we believe it is, how do we enter? How do we come into relationship with God and enter into His presence?

Some would say, “Live a good life. Do good works. Be a nice person,” but St. Paul tells us that our salvation “is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8b-9) A good life, good works, and being a nice person all fall under the category of works. Paul goes on to tell us that we were created to perform good works, but those good works are not how we enter into God’s presence.

Others would tell us that we must pray the sinners’ prayer. A prayer where you confess that you are a sinner, declare Jesus as your Lord and Savior, and that you turn to Him. It is a good prayer, but it is really only a tool because it also falls under the same category as works. If you read any version, the most glaring word is “I.” It is all about what I am doing. I’ll do this. I’ll do that. I’ll work on the other. A good prayer, but too many “I’s” for my taste.

“Fine, Father John, so how? How do I enter into God’s presence?”

Just before those few verses on works from Ephesians, St. Paul answers the question: “God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith.”

We hone in on that word grace, defined as “undeserved favor.” So we are saved by God’s undeserved favor, but that still doesn’t answer, “Why?” But Paul did provide the answer in the first part of that passage—“God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us….”

To enter into God’s presence, you do not have to break in or work your way in. The gate is already open, and we are allowed entry. We are allowed entry through no action of our own, no great deed, no philanthropic gesture, no nothing. We are permitted entry because we have been loved into God’s presence. Our love for God follows His grace, His love for us. As St. John tells us, “We love because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19) There it is. The Way to God’s presence is through His love for us.

Today is Trinity Sunday. I’ve shared with you in the past my understanding that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are united, one to another, through their bond of love. It is that same love that binds Them together that is then extended toward us. We, in turn, then choose to accept or reject this gift of love from the Holy Trinity.

On the sixth day of creation, God created humankind, yet, even before that day, God knew you and loved you, and through Adam and Eve, we lived in His presence. Yet, there was a time when we were cut off from that Presence, but because God so loved the world, He made The Way possible for us to return. He gave His Son, His Son who is love incarnate, and, as St. John tells us, all who receive Him and all who believe in His name are given the right to become children of God. (cf. John 1:12) Therefore, by receiving Jesus, you receive God’s love, and you enter into your true country—the Presence of Our God.

Question: what are you waiting for?

Let us pray:
Glory be to the Father,
Who by His almighty power and love created us,
making us in the image and likeness of God.

Glory be to the Son,
Who by His Precious Blood delivered us from hell,
and opened for us the gates of heaven.

Glory be to the Holy Spirit,
Who has sanctified us in the sacrament of Baptism,
and continues to sanctify us
by the graces we receive daily from His bounty.

Glory be to the Three adorable Persons of the Holy Trinity,
now and forever.

Amen.

31 May 2023

Sermon: The Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

“Visitation” with donor portrait, from *Altarpiece of the Virgin* (St Vaast Altarpiece) by Jacques Daret, c. 1435

I came across a brief study of the word preposterous. Pre is something we are familiar with, which means “before.” The Latin word posterous is a bit more tricky, but if you think of what you fall on when you slip on the ice, posterior (aka the derrière), then you know that posterous has something to do with the backside. More accurately, it means “coming after” or “that which comes after.” Therefore, preposterous means: that which comes before comes afterward… backward. We take it to mean absurd or silly.

Donald K. McKim, the former Dean of Memphis Theological Seminary, used the word preposterous in a perspective on Christianity. He wrote, “Now Christianity is a preposterous faith because it asks us actually to live backward. Or, to put it another way, Christianity asks us to put some things before other things when more naturally, we’d choose to live the other way around. The faith calls us as followers of Jesus Christ to a new lifestyle, a new way of living. It asks us to hold new attitudes. In short, Christianity asks us to live in a way the world may judge to be absurd. Yet all the time, we are really only being truly preposterous.” Christianity asks us “to live backward” lives that, by the world’s standards, are absurd, silly, and foolish.

How preposterous is Christianity? Just in our Gospel account today, we are asked to believe that Elizabeth, a woman who was barren and “getting on in years,” was to bear a son; we are asked to believe that a virgin, Mary, conceived a child of the Holy Spirit, and we are asked to believe that this child is the Son of God, the long-awaited Messiah. Nothing preposterous there. We are also called to believe some preposterous ideas and are also called to live preposterous lives. St. John writes in his First Epistle: “Do not love the world or the things in the world. The love of the Father is not in those who love the world; for all that is in the world—the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches—comes not from the Father but from the world.” Yet, as preposterous as all this sounds to some, we believe. We seek to live according to the call that the Father has placed on our lives. For we know that he takes the weak, the broken, the blind, and even the crucified, and renews it, redeems it for his purposes.

In his first letter to the church in Corinth, Paul writes: “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God… we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles… Consider your call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, and not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are.”

When we consider a barren older woman giving birth to the greatest prophet ever born, a virgin conceiving a child by the Holy Spirit, a child born in a stable being the Son of God—when we consider all these weak, low, despised, preposterous individuals and the work God performed through them, then I ask you, why would you ever think God couldn’t do the same through you?

The French novelist, Colette, said, “You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.” If our faith and our actions appear preposterous, if they appear foolish, so be it. You be faithful in your work. You be enthusiastically preposterous and reveal the Risen Christ to the world.

21 May 2023

Sermon: Easter 7 RCL A – “Burn the Ships”

It is a bold move, but to go “all in” in poker is to put all your chips in the pot, betting everything on one hand of cards. Well, Boudreaux, Thibodeaux, Gustav, and a few others were playing their weekly game when Gustav gets a great hand dealt to him. The only thing that could beat him was a royal flush. Seeing it, he shoves all his chips into the center of the table and says, “I’m all in, and that includes every cent I have, my house, my boat, and my truck.”

Well, Thibodeaux had never been dealt one in his life, but he had that royal flush, and when he laid it out, ol’ Gustav stood up, grabbed his chest, and keeled over dead.

Thibodeaux looks at the other players and says, “Now, who is going to tell the wife?”

They draw straws. Boudreaux, who is always a loser, picks the short one. They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, and don’t make a bad situation any worse than it is.

“Gentlemen,” Bou says, “Discreet is my middle name. Leave it to me.”

Boudreaux finds Gustav’s wife and tells her. “Gustav done lost all yo money, house, boat, and pick’em up truck in the poker game, and now he’s afraid to come home.”

She hollers, “TELL HIM HE SHOULD DROP DEAD!”

Boudreaux says, “I’ll tell him,” and walks away.

When I play poker—which isn’t all that often—I should go all in the first hand because I will end up losing it all anyhow.

The phrase “all in” has made it into popular culture and expresses the idea of putting in your best effort. Although, I think that softens it up a bit because you’re still likely holding onto something. I recently read a story on a friend’s blog that truly expresses what it means to go all in, but they use a different phrase to express it: burn the ships.

I don’t listen to much contemporary Christian music. Actually, I’ve gotten to where I don’t listen to much music unless I’m cooking or cleaning—I don’t know why. There is a band from Australia formed by two brothers, Joel and Luke Smallbone. The band: For King and Country.

Luke spoke about the troubles his wife, Courtney, experienced during her pregnancy with their second child. Specifically, she suffered from some debilitating morning sickness. After enduring it for many weeks, she went to the doctor and was prescribed some medication.

I don’t know what went wrong, but Luke said that while on tour, he received a phone call from Courtney. She said, “I need you to come home. I can’t stop taking these pills.” In the end, she was hospitalized in a mental hospital.

After much treatment, she began to do better, but a day came when she told her husband, “Luke, I’ve got to symbolize something. I’ve got to flush these pills down the toilet. I’m done. I’m done with the guilt and the shame. I’ve got to move into a new way. A new life.” Watching his wife flush those pills and make that new start reminded Luke of an event that has since taken on a certain mythology about the Spanish explorer Hernán Cortés.

The actual events are a bit different, but the story that Luke was thinking tells how Cortés and 600 men landed on the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico. Cortés wanted to pursue and conquer Montezuma, but his men were not up for the battle, so Cortés gave the order: “Burn the ships.” Cut off every option except moving forward. Burn the ships.

Speaking of Courtney, Luke says, “When she was flushing those pills, the analogy of burning the ships came to me: the story of the sailors not wanting to explore the new world, wanting the comforts of their boats. Their leader calls them out and says, ‘We’ve got to burn the ships. This is a new world.’” From that, Luke wrote the song, Burn the Ships:

Burn the ships, cut the ties
Send a flare into the night
Say a prayer, turn the tide
Dry your tears and wave goodbye

Step into a new day
We can rise up from the dust and walk away
We can dance upon our heartache, yeah
So light a match, leave the past, burn the ships
And don’t you look back

From our Gospel reading today: “Jesus looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you.” And a little further on, He said, “I glorified you [Father] on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do.” By finishing the work.

To finish His work, Jesus would go to Jerusalem, be put on trial, suffer inhumane treatment, and finally be crucified. He knew it was coming and even told the disciples about it. (cf. Matthew 16:21) Jesus knew all that was to come, yet Jesus burned the ships. The only One He could rely on was His Father. “Into your hands, I commend my spirit.” And then He gave up that spirit, but the Father did not abandon Him.

In our lives, we may never be put in such a place as Jesus, but for each of us, there are likely ships we need to burn. For Courtney, Luke’s wife, it was the pills that, although she took as prescribed, she became addicted to. It may be some other addiction for others that needs to be “flushed” like she flushed those pills.

The ships can come in all forms, including certain people in our lives. No… I am not suggesting that you burn people, but the links to those who tend to lead us astray should be severed. Perhaps that one is called burning bridges. The poet, Rudy Francisco, wrote, “Some say, don’t burn your bridges. I say, if necessary, let the kerosene kiss it on the lips and watch it turn to ash. There’s always more than one way to cross the water.”

The hope is that we will find the courage to take this life of ours that has been given to us by God and live it entirely for Him. So that, like Jesus, we can say, “Into your hands, I commend my spirit.” The trouble is that it can be a terrifying step. In our minds, it goes too far. If I give my life and my spirit to God, then what is left for me?

Imagine: a young boy’s mother sends him to town to buy bread and fish, giving him her last coin. He does as asked, but on the way home, as he walks in the wilderness, he encounters a large crowd on a hillside. They’ve been listening to a preacher, but now it is time to eat, and no one has any food. The preacher comes to the boy and asks that he give him all he has so that he can feed this crowd of thousands. “But I only have a couple of fish and five small loaves of bread,” the boy says. “It will be enough,” the man answers. So, not because he believed there was enough to go around, but because he believed the man’s words, the boy burned the ships and gave the man the fish and the bread, all that he had. In the end, everyone had more than enough to eat, and when it was over, the preacher returned to the boy and said, “You gave me all you had, and I now return it to you.” But instead of handing the boy back his two fish and five loaves of bread, the preacher gives him twelve baskets filled and overflowing with fish and bread.

The same is true in our life with God. We give Him everything, and in doing so, we will find our cup running over. Understand, I’m not talking about financial gain or temporal rewards—although that is a possibility—but I am talking about rewards that are lasting and eternal: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22) Go all in with God. Burn the bridges that need to be burned, burn the ships to the past and those things that you shouldn’t be holding onto, and then watch the cup overflow in God’s eternal blessings to you.

Let us pray:
Father in Heaven,
ever-living source of all that is good,
keep us faithful in serving You.
Help us to drink of Christ’s Truth,
and fill our hearts with His Love
so that we may serve You in faith
and love and reach eternal life.
In the Sacrament of the Eucharist
You give us the joy of sharing Your Life.
Keep us in Your presence.
Let us never be separated from You
and help us to do Your Will.
Amen.

14 May 2023

Sermon: Easter 6 RCL A – “Holy Spirit”

During an Episcopal worship service, a man began to be moved by the Spirit.

Out loud, he said, “Amen!” People around him were a little disturbed.

Then louder, he said, “Hallelujah!” A few more people were becoming disturbed.

Louder still, he shouted, “Praise Jesus!”

An usher moved quickly down the aisle. He bent over and whispered to the man, “Sir! Control yourself!”

The man exclaimed, “I can’t help it. I got religion!!!”

To which the usher responded, “Well, you didn’t get it here!”

I shared with the last Confirmation class, and I believe that I’ve shared it here, that while in seminary, I wrote a paper on the work De Trinitate by Richard of St. Victor. De Trinitate—On the Trinity—is Richard’s understanding of the Holy Trinity and the necessity of the three Persons of the Trinity, and how their relationship is based in love. I pulled out that paper this week, and one of the sentences I wrote is this: “Even though the Supreme Being ‘is the source of all existence,’ the Supreme Being and the condignus are of equal essence, as seen in the above discussion on the procession of the condignus from the Supreme Being and in the Quicunque; therefore the condilectus must proceed from both the Supreme Being and the condignus.” I said to myself, “Self, that right there will preach.” Maybe not, but it got me thinking about the condilectus, that is, the Holy Spirit—the Advocate that Jesus spoke of in our Gospel reading. What is important to note is that much of what we’ve been hearing these weeks since Easter Sunday has been pointing to this giving of the Spirit because this coming Thursday is the Ascension—Jesus leaving us—but before we go forward, let’s go back and look at the bigger picture.

On Good Friday, the Lord was crucified. On Easter Sunday, He rose from the dead. On the following two Sundays, we had the accounts of witnesses to the Resurrection. First, Jesus appeared to many of the disciples in a locked room. As you may recall, Thomas wasn’t there, and he doubted the others, so Jesus appeared again, and Thomas believed, giving us that first creedal statement, “My Lord and my God.”

The following Sunday, we heard about the appearance of Jesus to Cleopas and one other while they were on the road to Emmaus. They did not recognize Him until late in the day in the breaking of bread, but after He was made known to them, those two returned to the fellowship of the apostles and proclaimed the Lord’s resurrection.

The following two Sundays took us to a time before the crucifixion. These teachings were placed as a reminder of who the resurrected Lord truly is. In the first, Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep.” In that, we understand that in Jesus, there is rest and safety. And then, last Sunday, Diane shared with us the message of Jesus going to prepare a place for us and how He is The Way. Speaking of that Gospel, Diane said, “Jesus is keenly aware of the limited time that he has remaining; and because of his great love for these very dear followers, his friends, he desperately wants to leave them with both comfort and instruction for his way to the Father, the true way, the way that leads to life.”

All this tells us that Jesus died and rose again, there were many witnesses to these events, and He is the way to eternal life with God, yet, in one of the last verses of the Gospel reading from last week, Jesus says something alarming, “I am going to the Father.” Jesus is the way to eternal life, but he is leaving. The questions then rush out, ‘If He is leaving, how will we know the way that leads to Him? How will we know the Truth? How will we have this Life He has promised?’ All these, but then today, Jesus reassures us, “I will not leave you orphaned.” I will send another who will guide you into all truth. The condilectus. The Advocate. The Holy Spirit. A Spirit that will not just be available to a select few but to all. The Spirit guides us to the Father, that leads us into all truth; through this same Spirit, we receive life. So, who is this Holy Spirit?

When you think of Jesus, I’m sure some image of what he looks like comes to mind. Even when you think of the Father, even though He is without time or space, our human minds imagine what He might look like. Yet, with the Spirit—this gift from God—there is no physical focus other than the dove, which is for lack of any other means of identifying him. The best way to understand it is by understanding the Hebrew word rouah, which we spoke of recently—the wind, spirit, or the breath of God. Just as you cannot see the wind, you can only witness its effects; the same is true with the Holy Spirit of God. You cannot see it, but you can see its effect as it works in the world and individuals.

In our reading today, Jesus says He will send this Spirit, the Advocate. Advocate is a translation of the Greek word paraklētos. It can also be translated as counselor, helper, intercessor, or comforter, which helps us further understand the role of the Holy Spirit—one who comes alongside us to help us. But it is also important to note that Jesus says he will send “another Advocate.” Who is the first? St. John tells us in his first epistle, “We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” (1 John 2:1) Jesus is telling us that He is sending not just a spirit, but His Spirit to be with us.

Jesus said, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” (John 16:13-15)

Moses spoke to the Israelites and said, “Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6) Jesus said, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20b) God said, I will not leave you alone or abandon you. Jesus said, I am with you through it all until the last day. And this is made possible through the giving of God’s own Spirit to us.

Jesus will ascend into Heaven to be seated at the right hand of the Father, but he does not leave us orphaned. Instead, we are adopted—made one with Jesus and one with the Father. And we are given this Spirit so that—as we say in our Eucharistic Prayer D—so “that we might live no longer for ourselves, but for him who died and rose for us, he sent the Holy Spirit, his own first gift for those who believe, to complete his work in the world, and to bring to fulfillment the sanctification of all.” We are drawn into full communion with the Triune God as daughters and sons and are commissioned to continue God’s work of love in the world.

Somebody needs to get some religion and say, “Amen!”

One last piece. St. John records a message for each of the seven churches at the beginning of the Book of Revelation. Each church is given a different message, but one part of the message is the same for all. It comes at or near the end of the message: “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” That is not only a word for the church, but it is a word for us individually. “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says.” We are given the Spirit of God so that we may know the way to God, so that we may know the truth of God, so that we might have life through God, and so that we might complete God’s work in the world, but in order to have these things, we must shut up and listen.

Take time to be quiet, to be at rest, to seek the presence of God, and then listen and hear what the Spirit is saying to you. I make no promises that you will like what you hear, but it will be God’s message to you.

Let us pray:
Breathe into me, Holy Spirit, that my thoughts may all be holy.
Move in me, Holy Spirit, that my work, too, may be holy.
Attract my heart, Holy Spirit, that I may love only what is holy.
Strengthen me, Holy Spirit, that I may defend all that is holy.
Protect me, Holy Spirit, that I may always be holy.
Amen.

30 April 202313 May 2023

Sermon: Easter 4 RCL A – “Fences”

A young preacher was talking to the children about sheep. He said that sheep weren’t very clever and needed lots of guidance and that a shepherd’s job was to stay close to the sheep, protect them from wild animals and keep them from wandering off and doing foolish things that would get them hurt or killed.

He pointed to the children in the room and said they were sheep and needed lots of guidance.

Then the minister put his hands out to the side, palms up in a dramatic gesture, and with raised eyebrows said to the children, ‘‘If you are the sheep, then who is the shepherd?’’

He was pretty obviously indicating himself.

A silence of a few seconds followed.

Then Little Johnny said, “Jesus, Jesus is the shepherd.’’

The young minister, obviously caught by surprise, said to Johnny, ‘‘Well, then, who am I?’’

Little Johnny frowned thoughtfully and then said with a shrug, ‘‘I guess you must be a sheepdog.’’

I have been called many things in my career, some of which were good, but I have never been called a sheepdog. However, within the Church, the Bishops have always been viewed as shepherds. In Jeremiah 3:15, the Lord states, “I will give you shepherds after my own heart, who will feed you with knowledge and understanding.” So, as an extension of the Bishop’s ministry, I suppose the priests could be considered sheepdogs, but we all fall into that category when it comes to Jesus as the Good Shepherd.

Today, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, said to us, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.”

At night, the shepherd would lead the flock into a fenced area and lay at the gate. Anyone who came in must climb the fence or go over the shepherd. As for the sheep, any that tried to leave by the gate would wake the shepherd. Earlier this week, as I thought on this passage, I got to thinking about the fence, and—long story short—thinking about fences led me to the poet Robert Frost.

Christianity did not come easily for Frost, and whether or not he was is still up for debate for many; however, a few days before his death, he wrote to a friend and said, “Salvation, we will never have from anyone but God.” For me, that pretty much ends the argument.

Where do the fences come in? Frost’s poem, Mending Wall, was first published in 1914. Did Frost have a Christian theme in mind when he wrote it? Probably not, but it certainly lends itself to one. It even contains a line that most of you know.

The poem tells the story of two neighbors that come together each spring to mend the rock wall that is the boundary between their properties. The narrator tells us that the heaving of the frost in the ground during the winter or passing hunters who need access or even elves could cause the rocks to fall, making breaks in the wall that need to be mended. However, the narrator doesn’t really see the point of the wall, so he keeps asking his neighbor why they go through this exercise every spring, to which the neighbor replies, “Good fences make good neighbors.” The idea is that if everyone knows the boundaries, then there can be no disputes. It makes sense.

Good fences make good neighbors, but uncertain as to what caused each break, the narrator comments, “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall, that wants it down.” Regardless of the neighbor’s opinion on the goodness of the wall, something or someone doesn’t want it there because it keeps falling. And this is where I ran with my interpretation of the poem.

The enemy of God’s people would rather the walls not be there. Jesus tells us, “Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit… The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.” The enemy of God’s people would rather there not be a wall so that he can steal us away, so we allow Jesus and His holy host of angels to guard our souls, and under their protection, our souls remain quite safe.

The Psalmist tells us,
“[The Lord] will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
nor the destruction that wastes at noonday….
For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.”

The Lord is the Good Shepherd and will guard our souls, so the fence serves as protection from those outside of ourselves, but perhaps more importantly, a fence keeps us in because we tend to wander off and get into trouble.

A little further in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says, “What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray?” (Matthew 18:12) That speaks of the goodness of God in seeking us out when we are lost and in trouble. Still, it also speaks of a sheep that didn’t know what was good for it and went astray. Good fences help keep us from wandering off, so how do we build and maintain a fence around our souls? The author of Proverbs provides us with some good advice.

“Keep your heart with all vigilance,
for from it flow the springs of life.
Put away from you crooked speech,
and put devious talk far from you.
Let your eyes look directly forward,
and your gaze be straight before you.
Ponder the path of your feet;
then all your ways will be sure.
Do not swerve to the right or to the left;
turn your foot away from evil.”

It is amazing how often our words can get us into trouble or how entertaining gossip can bring about problems. Erma Bombeck said, “Some say our national pastime is baseball. Not me. It’s gossip.” Guard your speech and what you listen to, and you’ll guard your soul. Consider the things you allow yourself to look at or linger over, whether it be something that leads to feelings of inappropriate desire or coveting and jealousy. Custodia occulorum, or custody of the eyes—“means holding ourselves accountable for what we choose to look at.” (Source) In guarding our eyes, we are guarding our hearts. Finally, consider where you are going. Is what you are doing following in the footsteps of Christ, or have you seen something off to the side that causes you to deviate from that path? Guard your steps, and you will be guarding your heart.

“Good fences make good neighbors.” And guarding our tongues, eyes, and steps will go a long way in building a fence around our souls to keep us from becoming sheep that go astray. And, if you occasionally need a sheepdog to nip your heels, I’ll see what I can do.

I’m unsure if this is a proper prayer, but it comes from my new friend, Thomas Merton—Let us pray: Good Shepherd, You have a wild and crazy sheep in love with thorns and brambles. But please don’t get tired of looking for us. We know You won’t. For You have found us. All we have to do is stay found. Jesus, in Your Name, we pray. Amen.

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