Tag: Jesus

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Sermon: All Saints Day

“In politics, stupidity is not a handicap.” ― Napoleon Bonaparte

“Corrupt politicians make the other ten percent look bad.” ― Henry Kissinger

“The trouble with practical jokes is that very often they get elected.” ― Will Rogers

“When they call the roll in the Senate, the Senators do not know whether to answer ‘Present’ or ‘Not Guilty’.” ― Theodore Roosevelt

“Politicians and diapers must be changed often, and for the same reason.” ― Mark Twain

’Tis the season, but what does politics have to do with All Saints Day? The Saints, throughout the history of the Church, have stood up against those who call themselves rulers/politicians, whether they be kings or queens, presidents or emperors. In many cases, it cost the Saint their life, but they still stood firm.

Shortly before he was put to death for denying Henry VIII, Thomas More said, “I die the King’s good servant but God’s first.” As he stood firm during the Spanish Civil War, Josemaria Escriva told those with him, “Remain faithful. As for the rest, what does it matter?” Standing up to another English king, Thomas Becket said, “The more I loved the king, the more I opposed his injustice until his brow fell lowering upon me.” Joan of Arc stood before tyrants and declared, “To sacrifice what you are and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying.”

Rulers and elected officials have always pandered to the Church, seeking favor, endorsement, and—more importantly—votes. And, to its detriment, the Church has frequently allowed itself to be drawn in. Yet, the Saints teach us another way. The Saints teach us God’s way. A way that is contrary to that of the world.

Eugene Peterson writes quite a bit for clergy. I don’t remember if I’ve shared this piece with you before. It is from his book The Contemplative Pastor.

He begins one chapter by saying, “As a pastor, I don’t like being viewed as nice but insignificant. I bristle when a high-energy executive leaves the place of worship with the comment, ‘This was wonderful, Pastor, but now we have to get back to the real world, don’t we?’”

He says that when he hears this, he wants to assert his importance, but “Then,” he says, “I remember that I am a subversive. My long-term effectiveness depends on my not being recognized for who I really am. If he—high-energy executive—realized that I actually believe the American way of life is doomed to destruction, and that another kingdom is right now being formed in secret to take its place, he wouldn’t be at all pleased. If he knew what I was really doing and the difference it was making, he would fire me.

“Yes, I believe that. I believe that the kingdoms of this world, American and Venezuelan and Chinese, will become the kingdom of our God and Christ, and I believe this new kingdom is already among us.”

Yes, politics and All Saints Day go very nicely together because the Saints were revolutionaries. In their times, they believed, lived, and died for what Peterson’s subversive pastor declares. And it is why you and I should not get all riled up about what happens next Tuesday or next year or whenever. Yes, it is important, and yes, we should vote, but in doing so, we also know that the outcome—whether we like it or not—is according to the will of God and will serve His purposes, not for some earthly kingdom, but for God’s Kingdom.

Regardless of the outcome, we, the Church, the new saints of God, will do what we’ve been doing for the last 2,000 years—stand up against those who oppress God’s people and care for those in need. We will continue going about the work of our One True King, and no earthly weapon or politician will prosper against Him. 

We, the people, have nothing to fear. However, those who seek authority over us should take heed, for our God says, 

Therefore, you kings, be wise;
    be warned, you rulers of the earth.

Serve the Lord with fear
    and celebrate his rule with trembling.

Kiss his son, or he will be angry
    and your way will lead to your destruction,

for his wrath can flare up in a moment.
    Blessed are all who take refuge in him.

We are the children of the King, and He loves us. Be faithful and fear not. Stand with the Saints and be true.

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Sermon: Proper 25 RCL B – “Questions”

The poet Robert Frost is reported to have said, “A jury consists of twelve persons chosen to decide who has the better lawyer.” With that in mind, I’ll let you judge if these lawyers won their case.

Q: “Now, Mrs. Johnson, how was your first marriage terminated?”
A: “By death.”
Q: “And by whose death was it terminated?”

Q: “Have you ever thought of committing involuntary manslaughter?”

Q: “Any suggestions as to what prevented this from being a murder trial instead of an attempted murder trial?”
A: “The victim lived.”

Q: What was the first thing your husband said to you when he woke up that morning?
A: He said, “Where am I, Cathy?”
Q: And why did that upset you?
A: My name is Susan.

Q: “Was it you or your younger brother who was killed in the war?”

Q: “Do you recall the time that you examined the body?”
A: “The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m..”
Q: “And Mr. Dennington was dead at the time?”
A: “No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy.”

When it comes to asking questions, preschoolers take the prize. They average 300-390 questions per day. By the time children are nine, that number drops to about 140. As adults, I suppose we think we know all the answers because we only ask 25-30 questions per day. 

Answers to some questions range from one word—yes/no—to entire volumes dedicated to a single answer. Other questions range from rhetorical to simple inquiries. For example, “Does Father John have a point?” Answer: Yes!

If you combine the texts of the New Testament, you’ll discover that Jesus asked a total of 307 questions. Today, he asked Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” At other times, His questions become more difficult. “What are you looking for?” (John 1:38) “Why do you notice the splinter in your neighbor’s eye yet fail to see the wooden beam in your own eye?” (Matt 7:2) “Why are you terrified?” (Matt 8:26) “Why do you harbor evil thoughts?” (Matt 9:4) “Could you not watch for me one brief hour?” (Matt 26:40) “What are you thinking in your hearts?” (Luke 5:22) “What are you discussing as you walk along?” (Luke 24:17) Each of those is asked in a particular context, but even alone, in the context of our faith, they are good questions and not always so easy to answer.

On the other side, Jesus was asked 183 questions. Care to guess how many He answered? Three. You should think about that the next time someone seems to have all the answers.

Jesus asks us questions, and we ask Jesus questions, but I suspect that most of our questions fall in the category of requests for favors or healing. However, at the root of all we are asking, perhaps even subconsciously, is a more important question, and it is the same question we heard a few weeks ago in our Gospel reading—“Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Even our craziest requests come back to this. “Jesus, will you help me pick the right numbers to win the lottery?” That sounds materialistic on the surface, but below the surface, it is a request for stability, fulfillment, the meeting of needs, and so on, all of which will be given on the last day—eternal life with God.

Jesus said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.” Jesus also said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”

So, we have a question that is being asked by believers and unbelievers,  “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Fortunately, we have the answer: faith in the Son of God, Jesus. And we have a command: “Go and share this Good News. 

The Church has many secondary missions, but this going and proclaiming the Good News—that is, proclaiming the cross, the death and resurrection of Jesus, repentance, the forgiveness of sins, and eternal life, all of which can be summed up in those few words, “For God so loved the world”—this going and proclaiming the Good News far outweighs all the secondary missions/ministries combined, but… and there it is… we can preach by words all day long, yet, unless we also proclaim the Good News through those secondary missions/ministries, through our actions, then the message goes largely unheard.

You know the Scripture: “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” (James 2:14-17)

Bottom line: we, the Church, must proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ by word and deed. We can all agree on this, but there is a catch. To those who receive what we are offering, there is no charge. There is no cost for the message we share, and we do not charge for the works we perform; however, for us—the Church—the act of proclaiming by word and deed is not free.

I have joked with you about the two ways I can make you most uncomfortable. The first is for me to be silent. Silence makes us crazy. It shouldn’t, but it does. The second way I can make you uncomfortable and perhaps even have you tune me out is to talk about money and giving. Over the course of the last ten years, I’ve spoken to you many times about the need for silence in our lives, but I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve talked to you about money and giving. You have always been so generous with your gifts and pledges to the Church, and we are a financially healthy church, so I’ve never seen the need. Today, you are still as generous as always, and we are still a financially healthy church. That hasn’t changed. However, the needs of the world around us have, and they are greater than ever, and every indication is that it will only get worse. And it is to this world that we must proclaim through word and deed.

Not everyone has the gifts to proclaim by word, and many times, those who can proclaim by their deeds and actions are out working to provide for their own needs and the needs of their families. However, the Church is uniquely positioned to do both, but not without your financial assistance. 

Our Presiding Bishop (for one more week), Michael Curry, is fond of saying we are the Episcopal Branch of the Jesus Movement. So, St. Matthew’s is the Episcopal Branch of the Jesus Movement in Enid, Oklahoma. Through our individual actions, we can do much, but through our collective actions, we have made and are making a considerable difference in our community. We feed people experiencing poverty, pay for student meals at the local schools, put books in the hands of children through our partnership with the Enid Public Library and the Dolly Parton Imagination Library, help build soccer complexes and tennis facilities that provide healthy activities for the youth of our community, and so much more. In addition, this year, we’re hoping to add the 5% Mission Tithe back into the budget so that our reach and proclamation of the Good News of Jesus Christ can be even greater. I don’t get really excited about asking you to help us pay the electric bill, but the ability to fulfill so many opportunities, to help so many individuals and organizations, and to proclaim the Good News in creative ways gets me going. However… we need your giving to help do these things. 

Speaking through the Prophet Malachi, the Lord says, “Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. And thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need.”

I am not preaching prosperity Gospel here; that is heresy, but the Lord says, “Test me on this. Bring your tithe into the church and watch what happens.” 

Yes. This is the beginning of our annual pledge drive. Yes. You are going to hear more about giving, pledging, and tithing. Yes. You can tune it all out, but… don’t. Giving our time, talents, and treasures is as much a spiritual discipline as praying and worshipping. So, I ask you to read through the information that will be provided over the next week, then, next week, prayerfully consider and make your 2025 pledge. Together, in our community and maybe even further, we will proclaim the Good News and answer the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Let us pray: Gracious Father, the owner of all things, we pause in reverence, acknowledging that everything we possess ultimately belongs to you. We open our hearts to the profound reality that we are only temporary stewards of your eternal treasures. Help us to embrace the responsibility and privilege of managing your blessings with diligence and integrity. Amen.

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Sermon: James of Jerusalem (the Just)

James the Just, 16th-century Russian icon.

The early patriarchs of the Israelites were Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We know Jacob had twelve sons, one of whom was Joseph, his favorite. Scripture says Jacob “loved Joseph more than any other of his children, because he was the son of his old age; and he had made him a long robe with sleeves.” Because of his favoritism toward Joseph, the other eleven brothers became jealous of him, and it got even worse when Joseph was seventeen and began having dreams: “‘Listen to this dream that I dreamed.  There we were, binding sheaves in the field. Suddenly my sheaf rose and stood upright; then your sheaves gathered around it, and bowed down to my sheaf.’  His brothers said to him, ‘Are you indeed to reign over us? Are you indeed to have dominion over us?’ So they hated him even more because of his dreams and his words.” He had another similar dream regarding the sun, moon, and stars. Because of the jealousy that built up around these events, Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery and told their father that a wild animal had killed Joseph.

As we read through Scripture, we see several instances of siblings not getting along, the first of which was Cain and Abel, but there was also Jacob and Esau, and even the parable of the prodigal son has its share. Where we don’t expect to find it is with Jesus and his brothers—whether they were brothers or cousins or some other relations is a lesson for another day—but early on, in the synoptic Gospels and John, we are given a clear picture that there was tension.

Mark’s Gospel: Jesus has begun his public ministry and “When [Jesus’] relations heard about it, they set out to seize him for they said, ‘He is out of his mind.’” John’s Gospel tells us very plainly, “His brothers did not believe in him.” They thought he was crazy, which was true for James, whom we celebrate today. However, following the resurrection, James became a devout follower. He was, in fact, elected by the twelve Apostles (including James, the brother of John) to be head of the Church in Jerusalem.

Surprisingly, it is very common for family and friends who are not believers to question your sanity or become angry when you begin to follow the will of God. Still, for the believer, it should not be a surprise, for Jesus says to us, “Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death; and you will be hated by all because of my name. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.”

The reasons why such a thing can happen are numerous: jealousy, as in the case of Joseph; pride, as in the case of Jesus’ family (they thought he was crazy and making them look bad); or anger, because you’re no longer following the crowd. But I think the most significant reason is fear. Fear because they are now more personally confronted with their own lives. Your life and obedience to God have become a testimony to them and convicts them of the sin in their own lives, leaving them with a choice of obedience.

James’ initial reaction to his brother Jesus was one of anger; however, Jesus’ life, Jesus’ obedience to the will of the Father convicted James and brought about a conversion. In the face of anger, fear, and jealousy because of your faith, stand tall and do not be afraid. God can even use the adverse reactions of others to bring about His will in their lives.

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Sermon: Proper 24 RCL B – “Losers”

Little Johnny’s fourth-grade teacher had very straight hair, so she decided to get a permanent for something different. As she sat at her desk the following morning, all the children began to file in. They all noticed her hair, but Johnny just couldn’t take his eyes off her. Becoming very self-conscious, even from the looks of such a young person, she said, “Is something wrong, Johnny?” Johnny said, “Your hair.” The teacher beamed and said, “You noticed. I just had a permanent, and I love it.” Johnny, still staring, said, “You do? Have you seen it?”

We all need a Little Johnny in our lives to keep us humble—to put us in our place when we start thinking we’re all that and a bag of chips.

When it comes to being humble, I’m always reminded of the fact that you can learn humility or someone will come along and teach it to you, and probably not in a kind way.

In our Gospel, we quickly see the lesson of humility. Still, I do believe that most of us shy away from a real-life application of what Jesus says—“Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” Why do we shy away? Because we understand that being a servant or a slave is not humbling. We see it as being humiliating.

Do you remember reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin? One of those books you were assigned in school that, at the time, you thought having to read was punishment for someone in Dante’s Inferno? If so, you may remember the characters Little Eva and her mother, Marie. The two could not be more opposite. Eva is a sweet soul of a girl—seven years old or so—and her mother is a most unpleasant sort and describes Eva as “peculiar.” Why? Eva is kind to the house slaves. She plays with them and reads the Bible to them. She even volunteers to take on some of their duties when they are tired. However, according to Marie, this is not the way things are to be.

Harriet Beecher Stowe also wrote a drama, The Christian Slave, based on a portion of Uncle Tom’s Cabin that Mary E. Webb performed between 1855 and 1856. Here, Harriet gives her characters more life, and Marie talks to Cousin Ophelia in one scene.

Marie says, “Now, there’s no way with servants, but to put them down, and keep them down. It was always natural to me, from a child. Eva is enough to spoil a whole house-full. What she will do when she comes to keep house herself, I’m sure I don’t know. I hold to being kind to servants—I always am; but you must make ’em know their place. Eva never does; but there’s no getting into the child’s head the first beginning of an idea what a servant’s place is… this treating servants as if they were exotic flowers or china vases is really ridiculous.”

I do not believe that any of you hold to this way of thinking (there are many who do.) That said, when Jesus tells his disciples, “Whoever wishes to be first among you must be—servant—slave of all,” we may not hold to Marie’s way of thinking, but it is how we understand a servant or a slave. When Jesus says we are to be slaves, we understand that to mean we are the ones who are to be put down and kept down. When we are servants, we are those who are put in their place and expected to stay there, and you know what? We don’t much like it. To be put down and kept down is, in our minds, to be a loser. And we ain’t no losers!

You know what a huge sports fan I am—everybody roll your eyes. Not judging it, but I don’t get it. Messed up wiring or something. Even so, I do have my opinions, and some things irk me about it all. Take football, for example—“How ‘bout them Bears.” They’re from Philadelphia. Right? Anyhow. Let’s say the offense is on the twenty-yard line, and they’ve got to cover eighty yards to score a touchdown. The ball is hiked, and the quarterback fakes to the left and then hands it off to the running back. The running back does his thing, and, within seconds is sprinting down the field for a touchdown. The crowd goes wild, and the running back does the funky chicken in the endzone. He is a winner, he knows it, and he’s happy to tell everybody about it. Meanwhile, the other ten players on the field are more or less forgotten. Maybe that’s not the case, but that’s the way it always appears to me. Why? To me, it seems as though the other ten players are viewed as nothing more than servants. Maybe you know one or two of their names, but as long as they stay in their place and do their job, the winner can do the rest. It seems as though that winner has forgotten that he would be flat on his backside if it weren’t for those servants. Maybe I have it all wrong, but that’s the way I see it.

We all want to be the one that the camera follows around after the big play. We all want to be the winner. Nobody wants to be one of the forgotten ones. We’re above that. We’re better than that. “Teacher, we are winners. Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Grant us a seat at the winners’ table because that’s who we are.

I am not a sports fan, but I may have mentioned that I’m a fan of Stephen King. “I’m his biggest fan.” A few weeks ago, I told you I had finished reading IT, which is an exceptionally good read. No spoilers here, but I’m sure you know there’s a monster involved and other assorted characters. However, the main characters are seven kids. There’s the stuttering kid, the Jew, the Black boy, four-eyes, a hypochondriac, the girl that everyone thinks is a little tramp, and the fat kid. These are not winners. Individually, they are ridiculed, laughed at, and tormented for their differences. However, through several events, these seven became the closest of friends and formed a club—The Losers Club.

Individually, they were nothing. They were put down and kept down. Individually, they were weak, and they knew it. Yet, they come to understand that together—by serving one another—they could all be winners. Together, well… they could kill a monster.

Jesus says to us, “Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” We hear those words and think we are to be the losers that are put down and kept down like Marie in Uncle Tom’s Cabin would have slaves put down; however, this is not what Jesus has in mind. Jesus wants us to be servants with Him and of each other so that together—serving one another—we can kill monsters.

The Pharisees claimed Jesus was able to cast out demons because He Himself was a demon, but Jesus said to them, “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but is coming to an end. But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man.”

There is not one of us greater than the other. We are here to serve the Lord by serving one another so that when we come face-to-face with the monster, we can stand as a house united. It may be that we will fall, but not before we get in a few good licks.

I, for one, would much rather stand as equals with you all and fail than stand alone and most certainly be knocked on my backside. In the words of Richie Tozier, four-eyes in the Stephen King book, “Welcome to the Losers Club.” At least my version of it.

Jesus said, “For the Son of Man—He is speaking of Himself—came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” Jesus came not to be served but to serve, and Jesus served us—even unto death on the cross—not because He was forced to or needed to or had to… Jesus served us because He loves us. Go and do likewise.

Let us pray: God of wisdom and love, you have sent your Son Jesus to be the light of the world, and continue to send your Holy Spirit among us to guide us into the way of truth. Open our hearts to your word, and let us ponder your actions among us. Give us your Spirit of wisdom and knowledge, of understanding and counsel. With Mary, may we rejoice in your gifts and walk in the way of truth and love. Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 23 RCL B – “Thanks be to God”

Screenshot

Once, there was an elder in the lower parts of Egypt, and he was a very famous hermit who lived alone in a desert.  Two young men knew of the old hermit’s pious life, and they often scoffed and ridiculed him. Knowing this, Satan brought it about that a woman of easy virtue came to the two young men and said, “What will you give me if I can cause the hermit to stumble and sin?” The young men loved the idea, so they agreed on a certain sum of money they would give her. Going out the following evening, the woman came to the hermit’s cell, pretending to have lost her way. She knocked at his door, and he came out. Seeing her, he was disturbed and said. “How did you get out here?” She pretended to weep and said, “I have lost my way.” So, being moved to pity, he let her into the front room of his cell, and for his part, he went on to the inner room and locked the door. But the unfortunate woman cried out, “Father, the wild animals will eat me out here.” Once again, the hermit was disturbed, thought of the Judgment of God, and said, “How did this dreadful thing ever happen to me?” But opening his door, he let her in. It was then that the devil began to shoot flaming arrows of lust into his heart. But he said within his soul, “The ways of the enemy are darkness, and the Son of God is light.” So he lit a lantern, but the temptation continued, and he said, “Well, let’s see if you will be able to bear the flames of hell if you stumble and fall into sin by this temptation.” So he put a finger into the lantern’s flame, but though the flame burned him, he did not feel it because the fire of lust burned so brightly in him.” It went on like this all night until morning. He had burned all his fingers. The unfortunate woman, watching what he was doing, was so struck with terror that she almost turned into stone. In the morning, the two young men came to the hermit and said, “Did a woman come here last night?” “Yes,” said the hermit. “She is over there asleep.” Seeing her, they said, “Father, she is dead!” Then the hermit, throwing back the cloak he was wearing, showed them his hands and said, “Look what she did to me, that child of Satan! She has cost me all my fingers.” (Naturally, it was the woman’s fault that the hermit lusted after her.) However, having told them all that had taken place, he said, “It is written, ‘Thou shalt not render evil for evil.’” So he said a prayer and the young woman was revived, converted, and lived chastely for the rest of her life.

The hermit had done all he knew to do to live an ascetic life—a life free of outside influence and stimulus—so that he might dedicate himself to a life of solitude and prayer. This might seem odd to us today, but it is, in fact, a very noble and holy calling. He believed he was doing everything necessary to please God, but then the woman appeared. For him, she was a temptation, a stumbling block in his walk with God. He overcame the temptation, but the price of his obedience was his fingers—a very high price, indeed.

In our gospel reading, we are told that a young man came to Jesus and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to receive eternal life?” Jesus answered, “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.’” Excitedly, the young man replies, “I’ve done all this since I was a child.” In love, Jesus responds, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

Like the hermit, the young man believed he was doing everything right. He was following the Law to the letter and walking the path of righteousness, but it wasn’t enough for his salvation. Jesus knew that this young man was wealthy and had many possessions, so Jesus said, “Give it all away and follow me.” The young man went away sad. For him, the price of his obedience might as well have been all his fingers. But even then, it would not have been enough for his salvation.

Jesus is asking the young man, “Do you want to try and save yourself through your actions, your abilities, and possessions, or are you willing to set all that aside and walk by faith?”

In this incident, the young man represents the people of Israel. All their lives, they have believed they could bring about their salvation by adhering to the Law of Moses. That is, by their works (the idea that doing good deeds or following the Law allows you to earn your salvation), but now, Jesus says it is not enough. They must have faith, follow him, and accept God’s grace that is being offered. 

In his letter to the Romans, St. Paul provides a fascinating discussion on salvation by works, which he compares to salvation by faith. Paul writes, the “Gentiles who did not pursue righteousness have attained it, that is, a righteousness that is by faith; but that Israel who pursued a law that would lead to righteousness did not succeed in reaching that law. Why? Because they did not pursue it by faith, but as if it were based on works. They have stumbled over the stumbling stone, as it is written, ‘Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense; and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.’” (Romans 9:30-33)

The people said to themselves, “If we burn all our fingers, we will be saved. If we follow the Law of Moses, we will be saved. If we do this, that, or the other, we will be saved. Through our works—the things we do—we can earn our salvation.” This belief was their stumbling block. And they so stubbornly believed in their ability to save themselves that they did not recognize the salvation Jesus was offering—a salvation that was far more costly than anything they could earn through their works.

In a day and age when we are so concerned with the stock market, inflation, wars, monkeypox, or whatever, I don’t know that the issue of our salvation and eternal life ever enters our minds, except, perhaps, when we gather here. However, when we do gather, we are the hermit in his cell, and we are the rich young man kneeling before Jesus, and like them, we ask, “What must I do to receive eternal life?” Like with the young man, Jesus may answer our question with a question. “What are you doing to receive eternal life?” We respond, “Well, I go to church, I say my prayers, I give to the poor, I read my Bible, I confess my sins, I receive communion, and more.” Jesus looks at us lovingly and responds, “You lack one thing. You must die to yourself. You must give me your life, then come, follow me.”

Jesus has just laid a large stumbling block in our path. The price is too high. It is too much.

I always get a little tickled when I think of the second part of our Gospel reading. I get this cartoon image of a camel, and he has this big ol’ bug eyes as he stares through the eye of a needle, trying to figure out how he will get through it. A thought balloon pops up over his head. “Nope,” he thinks. “Not a snowball’s chance in the Sahara!” That is us. The price is too high. We simply cannot do it. The stumbling block placed before us plants us face down in the dirt, with no chance of recovering. 

The disciples thought the same thing and asked, “Then who can be saved?” Can you see Jesus smiling when He answers? “For mortals, it is impossible, but not for God; for God, all things are possible.” Once, the apostle Paul was ranting against himself because of the stumbling block in his life, so he said in his despair, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” In the confession of his failing, he discovered the answer. “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25a)

With all my talking about sin these last several weeks, you may have thought it was the Season of Lent. We talked about confessing our sins, walking in the Light of Jesus, drawing near to God, and being true friends by holding each other accountable. However, even with our very best efforts, we are the camel staring through the eye of the needle, and we respond in despair, “Nope. Not going to happen.” Not because we don’t want to but because we don’t have it within us. 

We are to make our very best efforts to follow the commandments of God, but in the end, for our salvation and eternal life, it is too expensive for us; therefore, we need another way. We need God to forgive us our sins. We need mercy. We need grace.

“I lift up my eyes to the hills.
    From where does my help come?

My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth.”

(Psalm 121:1-2)

“Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Thanks be to God, for through Jesus, the camel can pass through the eye of the needle.

Let us pray:
Father of Mercy,
forgive our failings,
keep us in Your Grace,
and lead us in the way of salvation.
Give us strength in serving You
as followers of Christ.
May the Eucharist bring us Your Forgiveness
and give us freedom to serve You all our lives.
May it help us to remain faithful
and give us the grace we need in Your service.
May it teach us the way to eternal life.
Amen.

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Sermon: Thérèse of Lisieux

I have some excellent yard maintenance skills. Except for a few shrubs, if it is green and grows in my yard… hit it with Roundup. It’s not that I don’t enjoy having flowers; I do, but I don’t want to waste money on plants that are going to die because I know that I’m not going to take care of them. I just really don’t enjoy working in the yard. However, back when the cousin lived in Enid, the yard had all kinds of flowers, and if I planted something, she would take care of it.

Of the few flowers I planted, the one I cherished the most was my John Paul II memorial rose. It was a glorious luminescent white when it bloomed. When that happened, a hundred different types of flowers could be blooming all around it, but that rose would be the only one I noticed.  

Have you heard of the Saint we celebrate today, Thérèse of Lisieux, also known as the Little Flower of Jesus? Most say yes. She is often considered one of the greatest modern Saints, having died on October 1, 1897. We read her autobiography, Story of a Soul, for one of our Saints Book Club selections. She is a very “popular” saint. Do you know anything about Verissimus, Maxima, and Julia, or have you even heard of them? No? They are also Saints who share the same feast day as Thérèse—October 1st. All three were martyred in Lisbon, Portugal, under Emperor Diocletian’s persecution in 305 A.D. 

When we consider them all together, Thérèse of Lisieux is the St. John Paul II memorial rose, while Verissimus, Maxima, and Julia are seen as little Lantanas or Impatiens. 

Thérèse looked at things differently. She writes, “Jesus set before me the book of nature. I understand how all the flowers God has created are beautiful, how the splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not take away the perfume of the violet or the delightful simplicity of the daisy. I understand that if all flowers wanted to be roses, nature would lose her springtime beauty, and the fields would no longer be decked out with little wildflowers. So it is in the world of souls, Jesus’ garden. He has created smaller ones, and those must be content to be daisies or violets destined to give joy to God’s glances when He looks down at His feet. Perfection consists in doing His will, in being what He wills us to be.”

There are “big” Saints, and there are “little” Saints, but in the eyes of God, they are all Saints. All—whether we recognize their names or not—have submitted to the will of God and fulfilled His purposes; therefore, they reveal His glory in the world. So, if those are the Saints living their eternal lives in Jesus’ garden, where are we? Are we getting hit with the Roundup, or are we also in that garden? Are we those whom God looks lovingly upon as He passes by? You may not always believe it, but you are in that garden. You are one in whom Christ delights.

In our reading from Colossians, Paul said to us, “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.” (Colossians 3:4)

We may not always believe that we are worthy of being placed in Jesus’ garden with the likes of Thérèse, Verissimus, Maxima, and Julia, and, in our own right, we are not. However, by setting our hearts and minds on Jesus, as all the Saint have done, it is Jesus and His glory that will be revealed in us—that will bloom in us and make us worthy “to share in the inheritance of the saints in light.” (Colossians 1:12) 

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Sermon: Proper 21 RCL B – “No Lifeguard on Duty”

Little Johnny had gone to the beach with his family. After a short time, Johnny asked his mom if he could go swimming in the ocean. His mother said, “Certainly not. The sea’s too rough, there’s a terrible rip tide and a dangerous offshore current, this coast is infested with jellyfish and sharks, and there’s no lifeguard on duty.” Johnny said, “But Daddy’s gone swimming!” His mother, looking out over the water, replied nonchalantly, “I know, but he has excellent life insurance.”

Last week, as we discussed the Epistle of James, we concluded that we can work at avoiding the sting of sin by drawing near to God and walking in the light. St. James, in his Epistle, said to us, “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (James 4:7-8)

From this, a good question would be: How do I draw near to God? How do I walk in the light? We know that through prayer and study, we can accomplish this to some extent. However, the devil is crafty. Even in the beginning in the Garden of Eden, we are told, “Now the serpent—the devil—was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made.” (Genesis 3:1) So, even though we may watch and pray and study, the devil is still looking for ways to deceive us. One of the more successful tactics the serpent may take is not by deceiving us directly but by convincing us to deceive ourselves. This goes back to how we, at times, will dabble in our sins or negotiate with them. As we learned last week, you can’t sin just a little. You are either sinning or not. We deceive ourselves when we think otherwise. Unfortunately, we do this, and even though we may be praying and studying, we can become increasingly mired and stuck in the sin that is killing us. 

This is akin to the general confession we make almost every time we gather. On a Sunday, the general confession is the one that we make together following the Creed. It is beneficial, but there needs to be real accountability. Sure, I during the General Confession,I can confess to stealing, but no one is holding me accountable for that sin. No one is asking me to make restitution. No one is around to help me overcome the sin. I confessed the sin of stealing, but I’ve got no skin in the game. So, I am more likely to continue in that sin because I haven’t been “called out” on it and have likely deceived myself and justified my actions. What I really need is for someone to come along and say, “You need to stop stealing, and I’m going to….” Not be your taskmaster, not ride you day in and day out, not condemn you, bash you about the head and neck, none of that. No. What I need is someone to come alongside me and say, “You need to stop stealing, and I’m going to help you to stop deceiving yourself. I’m going to hold you accountable. I’m going to come alongside you and love you.”

This morning, we read the last two verses of the Epistle of St. James. “My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth—falls into sin—and is brought back by another, you should know that whoever brings back a sinner from wandering will save the sinner’s soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.” (James 5:19-20) 

We come alongside each other and help one another because to save our souls, we need one another. Jesus never sent the disciples out alone, always two-by-two, so he certainly doesn’t want us to go it alone, either. Why? The world we live in can be like rough seas; there can be terrible rip tides and dangerous offshore currents, jellyfish and sharks that can harm us, and there is no lifeguard on duty.” If we go out alone, any number of things can befall us, but if we have someone with us, the chances for our safety are much greater. 

As I’ve told you several times before, Christianity does not exist in an individual. Christianity exists in a community. A community of believers that support and care for one another. A community of believers who are, despite all their differences, friends. 

If you want warm and sappy, you can always look up quotes about friendship; those quotes often speak about chance encounters. “Friendship is the beautiful chance encounter that enriches our lives.” “In the randomness of life, meeting a friend is a chance worth cherishing.” “A true friend is a rare gem discovered by chance in the vast sea of humanity.” But what if the community we build here and the friends we make are not random chance? 

In The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis discusses this. “In friendship,” he writes, “We think we have chosen our peers. In reality, a few years’ difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another…the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting—any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking, no chances. A secret master of ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, ‘Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,’ can truly say to every group of Christian friends, ‘Ye have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.’ The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others.” (The Four Loves, p.89)

The author of Ecclesiastes confirms the need for these friendships. “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10)

There is no lifeguard on duty, so, for many reasons, we need one another, one of which is to hold one another accountable. 

Thomas à Kempis tells us, “God has so ordained, that we may learn to bear with one another’s burdens, for there is no person without fault, no person without burden, no person sufficient to themself nor wise enough. Hence, we must support one another, console one another, mutually help, counsel, and advise, for the measure of every person’s virtue is best revealed in time of adversity—adversity that does not weaken a person but rather shows what they are.” (Imitation of Christ 1.16)

How do we do this? Numerous times, the Bible provides us with instruction, and they all speak of gentleness, love, and humility. However, before you set out on such a task, I suggest you check yourself because, so often, when we seek to correct another person, our actions have little or nothing to do with these traits. Remember the cartoon that made the social media rounds? “You were a believer, yes. But you skipped the

not-being-a-jerk-about-it part.” So often, those things we want to correct in another person have absolutely nothing to do with them and everything to do with us. If you want to hold someone accountable, ensure your heart is in the right place. If you feel that it is, then don’t be a jerk. Go to that person and, with kind and gentle words, speak to them. And don’t do it from a place of superiority or even as a parent would talk to a child. Instead, speak to them as an equal, recognizing that you, too, are a sinner in need of a loving God and also recognizing that tomorrow, it will likely be you who is being spoken to for your sins.

If your heart is in the right place and you truly believe a person needs to be held accountable, correct them. Their very soul may depend on your words. But do so with genuine humility and love. 

Jesus said to His disciples, “I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” (John 15:15)

Jesus calls us friends, so we must be true friends with one another, and the strength of a true friendship can withstand loving one another in such a way that we can hold each other accountable. 

In the novel It, my friend Stephen King wrote, “Maybe there aren’t any such things as good friends or bad friends – maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you’re hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they’re always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Maybe worth dying for too, if that’s what has to be. No good friends. No bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.” (p.1,043)

I believe this is the kind of friendship that Jesus desires for us. Be that friend to one another. 

Let us pray:
Guardian Angel,
watch over those who have built houses in my heart.
Guard over them with every care
and make their way easy and their labors fruitful.
Dry their tears if they weep;
sanctify their joys;
raise their courage if they weaken;
restore their hope if they lose heart,
their health if they be ill,
truth if they err,
repentance if they fail.
Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 20 RCL B – “Corruption”

Part of the time I was in college, I worked at a kennel. During the week, we would be about half full, but on the weekend, the place was usually booked up—200+ dogs, 20 cats, and the occasional bird, snake, lizard, or other family pet. It could be interesting and loud (part of the reason I say, “Huh,” so much.) 

There’s quite a bit to do when caring for so many animals, but there are also times when not much happening—even the dogs like an afternoon nap. However, the owner of the place was not big on employees just sitting about, so he was always good at finding something for us to do. On one occasion, he decided that a two-story house on the property needed to be painted, and the job fell on me. I can paint, so no problem, but before I could get at it, I had to remove the thick vines that had grown and covered one entire side of the house. 

I worked the lower levels with no problem, then hauled out the ladder and started on the upper level. It was in the middle of summer in Texas, and it was hot, dirty work, so I had peeled off my shirt, so I’m about fifteen feet up, wearing a pair of shorts and sneakers. This is when I yank on one particular vine, which erupts in a horde of yellow jackets. In my humble opinion, the yellow jacket is not one of God’s creations. It is of the devil, for sure. 

I make it about three feet down the ladder before I get stung.

That little yellow cuss got me on top of the head, so I reached up to swat it—and this is where the real satanic powers of the yellow jacket kick in; unlike a honey bee, a yellow jacket can sting you as many times as it likes. So, when I swat it off my head, it stings me on the hand. When it stings me on the hand, I slap it to my chest, hoping to be rid of it, and, yes, it stung me on the chest. I’ve no idea how I managed not to fall the remaining twelve feet off the ladder. 

I’ve had kidney stones, but I’m pretty sure those three stings were more painful. The pain is absolutely excruciating and all-encompassing. As many of you know, when a yellow jacket stings, you don’t just feel it at the site of the sting; your entire body is jolted, as with an intense electrical shock that courses all the way through. 

St. Augustine (he died in the year 430) had a young friend and student, Alypius. Alypius had gone to Rome to study and attempted to keep himself from falling into traps on the seedier side of the great city, so he stayed away from many of the events, including the battles of the gladiators in the Colosseum. However, one day, his friends dragged him there. Alypius said to them, “You may drag me there bodily, but do you imagine that you can make me watch the show and give my mind to it?”

As if to prove they could, they hauled him in. The entire time, Alypius kept his eyes tightly closed, never peaking. However, a battle took place, and at one point, a great cry arose from the onlookers. It was too much. Augustine reports, “So Alypius opened his eyes, and his soul was stabbed with a wound more deadly than any which the gladiator, whom he was so anxious to see, had received in his body. He fell, and fell more pitifully than the man whose fall had drawn that roar of excitement from the crowd. The din had pierced his ears and forced him to open his eyes, laying his soul open to receive the wound which struck it down.

“When he saw the blood, it was as though he had drunk a deep draught of savage passion. Instead of turning away, he fixed his eyes upon the scene and drank in all its frenzy, unaware of what he was doing. He reveled in the wickedness of the fighting and was drunk with the fascination of bloodshed. He was no longer the man who had come to the arena, but simply one of the crowd which he had joined, a fit companion for the friends who had brought him.” (Confessions, VI.8)

The yellow jacket sting is all-encompassing, but after a short time, the pain subsides. When, like Alypius, we open ourselves, our eyes, and our bodies to sin, that “sting” is also all-encompassing, but the effects do not subside. Not only that, but the “sting” of sin infects and corrupts the body and the soul. Like Alypius, once infected, we want more. We get caught up in the madness that is so satisfying for a moment but will eventually kill us if we do not repent.

Matthew, Chapter Five is the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount. It starts with the Beatitudes—blessed are the meek, blessed are the merciful, blessed are the peacemakers—and then continues with a litany of teachings on anger, lust, retaliation, and enemies. While speaking on lust, Jesus says something quite startling, “If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell.” (Matthew 5:29-30)

Now, we know that Jesus does not intend for us to pluck out an eye or cut off our hands. These are deliberate exaggerations, but they are exaggerations that describe how ruthlessly we are to deal with our sins. No dabbling. Sinning a little bit is like being a little bit pregnant. No negotiations. I’ve shared it with you before: if you dance with the devil, the devil doesn’t change. The devil changes you. Be rid of it. Why? Because once you open your eyes to evil, once you touch that which should not be touched, once you begin to sin, it is all-encompassing.

You may have noticed that all this month, our New Testament lesson has been from the Epistle of James. He frequently speaks of this idea of the beginning of sin leading to all-encompassing sin.

In chapter two, James, speaking of the Mosaic Law, says, “You do well if you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself. But if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors. For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it.” (James 2:8-10) It starts small, showing partiality, but it leads to a complete abandonment of all the Law.

Further on, he writes, “How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire. The tongue is placed among our members as a world of iniquity; it stains the whole body, sets on fire the cycle of nature, and is itself set on fire by hell.” (James 3:5b-6) How many relationships, be they between individuals, families, friends, and even nations, have been utterly ruined by the tongue? By hurtful words? James is saying, don’t let it start. Don’t give that sin a single spark; it may bring everything down.

We heard today, “Those conflicts and disputes among you, where do they come from? Do they not come from your cravings that are at war within you? You want something and do not have it; so you commit murder. And you covet something and cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts.” (James 4)1-2a) Look at the wars in the world. What brings them on? Peoples or governments wanting what belongs to another. Whether it be land or oil or bragging rights. The same can happen to us if we seek to take what others have.

What is the solution? How can we work to avoid the “sting” of sin and the all-encompassing pain that begins with a single stick but consumes body and soul? Jesus’ exaggeration of plucking out an eye or cutting off a hand is defined for us in the words we heard from James this morning: “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (James 4:7-8)

Jesus said, “The light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.” (John 3:19-21)

We work at overcoming sin by resisting the works of darkness and the devil. Therefore, come into the Light and draw near to God, and the Light of God will draw near to you and embrace you. 

“‘O death, where is your victory?
    O death, where is your sting?’

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:55-57) Amen.

Let us pray: Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do you, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.

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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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