Sermon: Proper 27 RCL C – “Love is the Law”


Years ago, a young pastor found the roads blocked one Sunday morning and was forced to skate on the river to get to church, which he did. When he arrived, the elders of the church were horrified that their preacher had skated on the Lord’s day. After the service, they held a meeting where the pastor explained that it was either skate to church or not go at all. Finally, one elder asked, “Did you enjoy it?” When the preacher answered, “No,” the board decided it was all right!

The album, The Stranger, by Billy Joel was released in 1977. I must have been in junior high at the time, but I did have a copy and probably wore it out. I could probably still sing along to all of the songs (not that you would want me to).

One of the songs I remember is Only the Good Die Young. At the time, I had no idea what it was all about, but I eventually sorted it out. And even more so when I was introduced to John Keating, the English professor that Robin Williams played in the Dead Poets Society. He told students, all young men, that “Language was invented for one reason, boys – to woo women – and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do.” The song Only the Good Die Young was just such an attempt.

“You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation
You got a brand new soul
Mmm, and a cross of gold
But, Virginia, they didn’t give you quite enough information
You didn’t count on me
When you were counting on your rosary

“And they say there’s a heaven for those who will wait
Some say it’s better, but I say it ain’t
I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
The sinners are much more fun
You know that only the good die young”

“The sinners are much more fun;” therefore, all fun must be declared sinful and stamped out at all costs. How do we stamp out fun? We make laws. How do we force people to follow the laws? We threaten them with all sorts of punishments. And, finally, who is best suited to write and enforce these laws? The Church! Can I get an “Amen”? Actually, religious leaders of every make and model, even before Jesus, have been doing this. During Jesus’ time, and with Judaism, there were two major parties of religious leaders and several minor ones.

The minor groups included the Essenes, Zealots, and Scribes, each with their own agenda. The two main parties we hear most about are the Pharisees and the Sadducees. Who were they?

Between the two groups, the Pharisees were more popular with the people and the common man. Although they were associated with the Temple through their faith, they were not the priests serving there. Instead, they focused on the Mosaic Law found in the Torah and other Old Testament writings. They would interpret the Law further and then interpret their interpretations, all aimed at leading to personal righteousness before God. The problem, and what Jesus criticized most, was that they got so far down in the weeds with their interpretation and application of the Law that they forgot about the souls of the people.

In His criticism of the Pharisees, Jesus said, “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger. They do all their deeds to be seen by others.” (Matthew 23:4-5) And again He says of them, “You are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness.” (Matthew 23:27)

They did, however, believe in the resurrection, but it was earned through works, not by faith. Favor was granted through obedience. To gain eternal life, one had to follow the Law to the letter. The Lord, speaking through the Prophet Daniel, said, “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.” (Daniel 12:2) The side of the bed you woke up on depended on whether or not you kept the Law. Nonetheless, this led to their understanding of the resurrection, which was one of the differences between the Pharisees and the Sadducees.

The Sadducees were the priests who controlled everything related to the Temple and the sacrificial system. They strictly followed the Mosaic Law, but their understanding was limited to the Law as written in the Torah—the first five books of the Old Testament. They did not recognize the authority of the other books—the Writings and the Prophets.

The Sadducees were the elites of society and in close relationship with the Romans. If your main concern is Temple worship, then you focus on keeping the peace and the status quo so that sacrifices can continue. They also prioritized their Jewish identity. As we read today, they did not believe in the resurrection. Instead, they believed that when you die, well, you’re dead—nothing more.

With such a belief, you might ask, “What’s the point?” Why go through all these rituals, follow the Law, make sacrifices, and maintain the Temple if, in the end… poof? The answer goes back to their identity. They did what they did for honor, for the nation of Israel, and for future generations. Perhaps the heretical teachings of the prosperity gospel today are the best way to understand the Sadducees—if you follow God and do what He tells you, then you get the big house on the hill. So, the best you can hope for after you die is to be remembered and leave a nice inheritance. Why didn’t they believe in the resurrection? Remember, they only followed what was written in the first five books of the Bible, the Torah, and they did not believe the Torah taught resurrection, so for them, it did not exist.

After the Temple was destroyed in 70 A.D., the Sadducees disappeared because, without the Temple, the sacrificial system could not continue, and there was no need for priests. So, the “brand” of Judaism that continues, even today descended from the Pharisees, with their emphasis on adhering to the Law and its interpretation.

Today in our Gospel reading, Jesus encounters some Sadducees who propose a question which is the equivalent of “If Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Pickle Peppers.” On other occasions, Jesus will have similar encounters with the scribes and Pharisees. In almost all of these encounters, the religious leaders come to Jesus in an attempt to trip Him up over the Law. If they succeed, they can use their influence and power to denounce Him. But in each case, He turns it around on them and eventually silences them, at which point they resort to lying. At the trial the night before He was crucified, “The chief priests and the whole council were seeking false testimony against Jesus that they might put him to death, but they found none, though many false witnesses came forward.” (Matthew 26:59-60)

Through Christ and His sacrifice on the Cross, we are no longer under the Mosaic Law, but under grace. St. Paul states this clearly in his letter to the Romans: “You are not under law but under grace,” (Romans 6:15), but he quickly adds that sin still exists. How? We are no longer governed by the Mosaic Law, but we are under the law of the Spirit. Paul writes, “We are released from the [Mosaic] law, having died to that which held us captive, so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit and not in the old way of the written code.” (Romans 7:6) And what is the heart of this law of the Spirit? Paul tells us, “For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” (Romans 5:14) which includes the love of God because you cannot love your neighbor if you do not first love God.

Our society is quick to impose specific laws on itself and others, whether to maintain order or uphold moral standards. Some individuals ignore these laws altogether and live a lawless life—that’s a different topic. However, most follow these laws, and for the most part, they do so out of fear of punishment, a similar approach to that of the Sadducees and Pharisees. Follow the law to receive a reward. Break the law and face punishment. But the law of the Spirit is beyond any codified system. Why? Because it concerns the heart. It is about love.

We do what God asks of us not because it’s written in a book, but because it’s written on our hearts. We follow His commands not out of fear of being thumped on the head, but because we love Him and want to please Him. We don’t need a law telling us to feed the hungry; we do it because we love our neighbor. We don’t need a law that says, “Don’t drive drunk,” because we should love those who travel with us and those around us enough that we take responsibility for their safety and ours through our actions.

Are you following the law of the Spirit, or are you breaking it? Answer the question: Am I loving my neighbor?

As followers of Jesus, the things we do or don’t do should not be motivated by fear of punishment or reward. Instead, they should be guided by the answer to that one question. Additionally, I would add, err on the side of grace. You can love too little, but you can never love too much.

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.

Sermon: Teresa of Avila

If I told you the number 218, what do you think it would represent? It is roughly the number of times St. Paul speaks the name “Jesus” in his writings. This number doesn’t include the times Paul uses “Christ” instead—just Jesus.

Consider the beginning of Paul’s greeting in his First Epistle to the Corinthians.

“Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and our brother Sosthenes, 

To the church of God in Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus and called to be his holy people, together with all those everywhere who call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ—their Lord and ours:

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

He clearly stated from the start who he would be discussing—Jesus.

It is this frequent use of the name Jesus that St. Teresa of Avila, whom we celebrate today, noted in her writing (this is a longer selection).

“If Christ Jesus dwells in a man as his friend and noble leader, that man can endure all things, for Christ helps and strengthens us and never abandons us. He is a true friend. And I clearly see that if we expect to please him and receive an abundance of his graces, God desires that these graces must come to us from the hands of Christ, through his most sacred humanity, in which God takes delight.

“Many, many times I have perceived this through experience. The Lord has told it to me. I have definitely seen that we must enter by this gate if we wish his Sovereign Majesty to reveal to us great and hidden mysteries. A person should desire no other path, even if he is at the summit of contemplation; on this road he walks safely. All blessings come to us through our Lord. He will teach us, for in beholding his life we find that he is the best example.

“What more do we desire from such a good friend at our side? Unlike our friends in the world, he will never abandon us when we are troubled or distressed. “Blessed is the one who truly loves him and always keeps him near. Let us consider the glorious Saint Paul: it seems that no other name fell from his lips than that of Jesus, because the name of Jesus was fixed and embedded in his heart. Once I had come to understand this truth, I carefully considered the lives of some of the saints, the great contemplatives, and found that they took no other path: Francis, Anthony of Padua, Bernard, Catherine of Siena. A person must walk along this path in freedom, placing himself in God’s hands. If God should desire to raise us to the position of one who is an intimate and shares his secrets, we ought to accept this gladly.

“Whenever we think of Christ we should recall the love that led him to bestow on us so many graces and favours, and also the great love God showed in giving us in Christ a pledge of his love; for love calls for love in return. Let us strive to keep this always before our eyes and to rouse ourselves to love him. For if at some time the Lord should grant us the grace of impressing his love on our hearts, all will become easy for us and we shall accomplish great things quickly and without effort.”

She wrote, “Love calls for love in return—Jesus’ love for us calls out our love for Him; therefore—Let us strive to keep this [love] always before our eyes and to rouse ourselves to love him.”

How do we accomplish this? As with Teresa, Paul, Catherine, Francis, and so many others, keep the name of Jesus always before you. In all whom you see, in all that you do, speak His Name, and you will rouse yourself to love Him and others.

Sermon: Matthew / Heritage Sunday

The Calling of Matthew by Marinus van Reymerswale

Things to say to someone you truly dislike:

“I don’t hate you, I’m just not necessarily excited about your existence.”

“I’m not saying I hate you, what I’m saying is that you are literally the Monday of my life.”

“To me, you are like a cloud. When you disappear, it’s a beautiful day.”

“I don’t hate you, but I’d buy you a toaster oven for your bathtub.”

“I’m not saying I hate you, but I would unplug your life support to charge my phone.”

The state of the world these days has stirred up the same level of hatred (and I would say, dysfunction) in many people, so please do not shout anyone’s name—let’s keep things civil here—but I want you to think about the one person you dislike the most. Imagine them like the Grinch as he was looking at the names in the phone book of the citizens of Whooville, saying, “Hate, hate, hate, double hate, LOATHE entirely.” They pretty much just make you angry when you think about them. You would definitely like to give them a piece of your mind. Got it? Now, turn that feeling inward, where you become the target of that intense hatred.

That may seem very unhealthy for many, but for some, it’s how they feel about themselves. If you hate them, try stepping inside their heads for a few minutes, and you’ll realize they hate themselves even more than you ever imagined.

Experts tell us that there are several reasons why someone might not like or even hate themselves. One reason is the illusory truth effect, also known as the illusion of truth effect. A current example of this is what has come to be known as “fake news.” 

Believe it or not, fake news exists. Oy! The trick with fake news is to repeat something enough times, whether it’s true or not, and people will start to believe it. The same idea applies to individuals. If you tell a child enough times that they are stupid, even if they have an IQ off the charts, the child is likely to come to believe they are, in fact, stupid. Tell them or treat them as if they are unloved, and they’ll begin to think that way too. We start to believe what others say about us, whether it’s true or not. What does this have to do with today and our Patron Saint, Matthew? I always imagined Matthew sitting alone at a table while people came up to pay their taxes when they were due. But I was wrong.

As we know, during Jesus’ time, the Romans occupied the Holy Land; therefore, they claimed the right to tax the people. To collect the taxes, the Roman senate appointed wealthy citizens to oversee specific areas of collection. These Roman citizens would then hire managers for those areas, who in turn would hire local individuals fluent in the local language to collect the taxes. These local tax collectors were called publicani.

The rules these tax collectors worked under appears to have been, “Tax everything.” And they were inventive. There were taxes “on axles, wheels, pack animals, pedestrians, roads, highways; on admission to markets; on carriers, bridges, ships, and quays; on crossing rivers, on dams, on licenses—in short, on such a variety of objects that even the research of modern scholars has not been able to identify them all.” Additionally, everyone from the Roman government to the publicani wanted a little piece of the action, so the publicani cheated their own people and charged extra.

Matthew, known in one translation as “The Lord of the Passage,” was in Capernaum, a prime location for collecting taxes. He would have been able to tax people traveling on the roads around the Sea of Galilee, including farmers, fishermen, and those arriving by boat. As a result, he would have been loathed entirely by both Jews and Gentiles. One source states that he would not have even been allowed to enter the Temple, and highly religious Jews would be considered unclean if they so much as touched him.

The building he worked in—think toll booth—was a busy place, with Roman guards and soldiers hanging about (seeing to it that everyone paid and no one tried to rob the place) and a line of folks waiting to pay. The mood: hostile and downcast, and there sits Matthew, not caring what you think about paying taxes or what you think about him. Yell, cry, cuss—whatever you please—you’re going to pay, and he doesn’t care. At the end of the day, he’s going home with a fat wallet. Yet, “As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’ And he got up and followed him.”

Without hesitation, Matthew walked away from it all—the job, the money, everything. He walked away from it all to follow a wandering Rabbi. What would make him do it? On that, the Gospel—even Matthew’s own Gospel—is silent, but I can’t help but wonder.

Some folks can be yelled at and cussed all day long without it affecting them one little bit. Like water off a duck’s back. But for most, it may not impact them much initially, yet over time, it begins to wear on them. Just ask anyone who has ever been in an abusive relationship—they start to believe every word—an illusion of truth effect. So I had to wonder, even with the job and the money, do you think it’s possible that Matthew came to hate himself as much as the people hated him? It wasn’t some pity party, but I wonder if, over time, he started to believe he had no real value, no true friends, no real life. Did he come to believe that he was nothing more than the names people called him?

Perhaps he wasn’t a Biblical whiz kid, but he remembers a few things from his youth, like the words of Psalm 22.

I am a worm and not a man,
    scorned by everyone, despised by the people.

All who see me mock me;
    they hurl insults, shaking their heads. (Psalm 22:6-7)

And, day after day, as he sat there collecting taxes and enduring all the abuse the people dished out, do you think he might have hoped for something better? A life where he could be accepted and valued? A life where he could be loved?

Again, the Gospel is silent, but I have to wonder: when Jesus walked by, did he catch Matthew’s eyes? And in Jesus’ eyes, did Matthew see it all—everything he truly wanted: acceptance and value? And in those two words, “Follow me,” did Matthew hear Love calling out to him?

The Blessed Virgin Mary. In Luke’s Gospel, we learn that when Mary discovered she was with child, she went to visit her cousin Elizabeth. When she entered Elizabeth’s house, Mary greeted her. Scripture says, “When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy.’” Elizabeth’s unborn son, John the Baptist, heard Mary’s greeting and knew that Jesus was near, so he responded with joy by leaping in the womb. I wonder if, in a similar way, when Matthew heard the voice of Jesus, “Follow me,” did his soul leap for joy within him?

Former Presiding Bishop Michael Curry said, “When you look at Jesus, you see one who is loving, one who is liberating, and one who is life-giving.” Matthew was loved by God, he was liberated from those things that bound him, and he was given new life in Jesus. 

I came across a quote this past week attributed to Kahlil Gibran, the Lebanese-American writer and philosopher. After a bit of research, I found that he did not actually say it, but the quote remains quite meaningful—”God said ‘Love Your Enemy,’ and I obeyed him and loved myself.”

Matthew saw, heard, and I believe his soul leapt within him when Jesus called out to him. Matthew no longer hated the enemy; he no longer hated himself but learned to love himself because he finally understood what it meant to be loved. In doing these things and in allowing himself to be loved by Jesus, he became a Saint of God.                                                                       

That is also true when you see Jesus, and it is true when you hear him. If you will look up into the face of Jesus, listen to his voice, and follow Him, He will do the same for you. And not only will he make you a saint, but He will make you a child of God Most High.

Let us pray: O Glorious St. Matthew, in your Gospel you portray Jesus as the longed-for Messiah who fulfilled the Prophets of the Old Covenant and as the new Lawgiver who founded a Church of the New Covenant. Obtain for us the grace to see Jesus living in his Church and to follow his teachings in our lives on earth so that we may live forever with him in heaven. Amen.

Sermon: Easter 5 RCL C – “Love One Another”

Four Monks by Claudio Rinaldi

You won’t like this one.

There was a blind girl who hated herself because she was blind. In fact, she disliked everyone, except her loving boyfriend, who was always there for her. She used to tell her boyfriend, “If I could only see the world, I would marry you.”

One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her. When the bandages came off, she was able to see everything, including her boyfriend, for the first time.

He asked her, “Now that you can see the world, will you marry me?”

The girl looked at her boyfriend and saw that he was blind. The sight of his closed eyelids shocked her. She hadn’t expected that. The thought of looking at them the rest of her life led her to refuse to marry him.

Her boyfriend left her in tears and days later wrote a note to her saying: “Take good care of your eyes, my dear, for before they were yours, they were mine.”

We have so many different ways of communicating these days—in person, via text messaging, through video calls, emails, and more. When you think about it, you realize that each form of communication involves some aspect of time, which can be summed up in that workplace complaint, “I survived another meeting that should have been an email.” If you have time, an in-person or video call is fine, but if you are rushed, then fire off a quick email or text message. This applies not only to work but also to our personal relationships.

I remember watching a movie where one of the ladies said, “If I want to spend an hour with my husband, I have to call his secretary and make an appointment.” Maybe it was a book, but some character requested an hour of someone’s time. The response was, “No one gets an hour.”

We’re so busy these days that no one gets an hour, and if they do, they’re going to have to make an appointment and pay for it.

Perhaps it’s not all that bad, but there are days that seem like it. Days when, even though you live in the same house with someone, the best you can hope for is to wave at each other as you come and go.

Given these circumstances, which I believe are true for many, it got me to wondering about the phrase, “I love you.” No one gets an hour. No one gets that much of our time, so when we say, “I love you,” to someone—be they our children, spouses, etc.—when we say, “I love you,” what do we mean? What message are we trying to convey, or is it just a nice way to conclude the interactions we have with one another as we pass each other in our comings and goings? 

Text message: “Don’t forget to pick up eggs. Thanks. I love you.” In that message, what is more important—the eggs or the love?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying you don’t mean it when you say, “I love you,” but do you actually think about it when you say it? Is it something that grabs you down here in your gut, or is it an afterthought at the end of the day?

Today, in our Gospel reading, Jesus said, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” Three times: love one another. Love one another. Love for one another. 

Maybe I’m just making an observation, or I could be completely off base. But if this is true, if no one gets an hour and we are just shouting out “I love yous” as we pass one another, then how do we, as a community of believers, express love to one another as Jesus has called us to? Put another way, Jesus said, “Everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” Will those around us know that we are Jesus’ disciples based on what they witness between us?

A story is told about a pastor traveling with a Brazilian seminary student studying in the US. Along the way, the pastor asked the student if he would like to stop for a cup of coffee. The student said, “I would be honored.” So the pastor swung into a Starbucks and went through the drive-thru. 

Once on their way again the student was very quiet and when pressed about his silence he said, “I thought you were asking me to be your friend. I thought we were going to sit together and share life.” (From a sermon by Monty Newton, The Making of a Compelling Christian Community)

If the world is to know that we are Jesus’ disciples, then it is more than a coffee on the go. We must sit together and share life. We must be committed to one another. I’m not saying that you are not already doing this, but like the “I love you” tagline at the end of a text message can become something that is just said but doesn’t really carry much weight, so can our commitment to one another in a Christian community. We may be there in our minds, but do our relationships reflect it?

St. John wrote in his first epistle, “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love…. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.” (1 John 4:7-8, 11)

Reflecting on this passage, N.T. Wright said, “The Christian faith grows directly out of, and must directly express, the belief that in Jesus the Messiah the one true God has revealed himself to be-love incarnate. And those who hold this faith, and embrace it as the means of their own hope and life, must themselves reveal the self-same fact before the watching world. Love incarnate must be the badge that the Christian community wears, the sign not only of who they are but of who their God is.” (The Early Christian Letters, p.169)

To be committed to one another and to be that community of believers requires more than simply waving at each other on Sunday mornings. We like to wear our shirts with little alligators or polo players stitched on them, but we must exhibit our love for one another even more boldly. How do we accomplish this?

The Abbot of the monastery wanted the community he led to be much more committed to one another. Needing advice on the subject, the Abbot visited his good friend Jeremiah, a wise old Jewish rabbi. After hearing the Abbot, Jeremiah asked if he could share an experience. “Please do,” responded the Abbot. “Anything you can offer.”

Jeremiah told the Abbot that he had received an important vision: the Messiah was among the ranks of the monks. The Abbot was flabbergasted. One among his own, living in the monastery, was the Messiah! The Christ! Who could it be? He knew it wasn’t himself, but who? He raced back to the monastery and shared this exciting news with his fellow monks.

The monks grew silent as they looked into each other’s faces. Was this one the Messiah? Or that one? From that day forward, the atmosphere in the monastery changed. No one wanted to miss the opportunity to be with the Messiah. If harm was done, they immediately sought forgiveness. The monks began serving one another in ways they had never considered, looking out for opportunities to assist and seeking healing and companionship.

As travelers found their way to the monastery, word soon spread about the remarkable spirit of the place. People took the journey to the monastery and found themselves renewed and transformed. All because those monks knew the Messiah was among them. All because the visitors recognized that those monks were true disciples of Jesus. All because those monks were loving one another as Christ had loved them.

Please don’t think that I’m saying you are not committed to one another. I believe you are committed in a rather remarkable way, but we must always seek ways to strengthen the bonds between us and to bring others into our community. Not so that we can have a bigger church, but so that we can have a stronger, more faithful, and more committed church. So that everyone will know that we are Jesus’ disciples. So that everyone will know that Jesus is in our midst.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer stated in Life Together, “We must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by God. God will be constantly crossing our paths and canceling our plans by sending us people with claims and petitions.” 

Love one another by allowing God to interrupt you. Give each other an hour. Sit together and share life. Along the way, you will discover that the Messiah is among the members of our church. Along the way, you will love one another as Christ loves us.

Let us pray: 

Heavenly Father,

look upon our community of faith

which is the Church of your Son, Jesus Christ.

Help us to witness to his love

by loving all our fellow creatures without exception.

Under the leadership or our Bishop

keep us faithful to Christ’s mission

of calling all men and women

to your service so that there may be

“one fold and one shepherd.”

We ask this through Christ, our Lord.

Amen.

Sermon: Advent 3 RCL C – “Expression of Love”


Lucy approaches Charlie Brown and says, “Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown. ’Tis the season of peace on earth and good will toward men. Therefore, I suggest we forget all our differences and love one another.”

Charlie Brown is totally taken aback by this change of spirit. His face lights up, and he replies, “That’s wonderful, Lucy. I’m so glad you said that. But tell me, do we have to love each other only at this season of the year? Why can’t we love each other all year long?”

Lucy retorts, “What are you, a fanatic or something?”

In an interview, C.S. Lewis states, “Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person’s ultimate good as far as it can be obtained.” (God in the Dock, p.37) Bishop Robert Barron is always reminding us that to love is to “consistently will and choose the good of the other.” It would seem that both of these are taking their understanding of love from St. Thomas Aquinas, who said, “To love is to will the good of the other.” 

So, love is partly about the funny feeling you get in your stomach, but more importantly, it is sacrificial. It is giving yourself, without regard for yourself, to another. What makes love so colorful and broad is how this, willing the good of the other, is expressed. That expression of love can take many forms, even some that seem to be any and everything other than love.

One of my favorite books is The Stand by Stephen King. In the beginning, one of the characters, Larry Underwood, finds himself in a bit of trouble out in California, so he heads to New York, where he spends some time with his mom. 

The relationship between these two has some interesting dynamics. His mom, Alice, is quite reserved and stoic, and Larry is a bit selfish. The day after he arrived, he slept in while his mother got up and went to work, but before she did, she took care of a few things for Larry and left a note. 

She had gone out and purchased all the foods he liked—canned ham, roast beef, Coke, peach ice cream. In the bathroom, there’s a new toothbrush, disposable razors, shaving cream, and even a bottle of Old Spice cologne. Of the cologne, he remembers her saying, “Not fancy but smelly enough for the money.” 

Larry saw all these things but then reflected on the note she had left. At the beginning, there was no “Dear Larry,” at the end, there was no “Love, Mom.” “Just a new toothbrush, new tube of toothpaste, new bottle of cologne. Sometimes, [Larry] thought, real love is silent as well as blind.” (p.104)

However, there are times when love looks even more different than what we expect.

As I sat in my office at home, reading the lessons for this week, I startled the cat because the sequence and the contrast of the lessons made me laugh.

Our first reading from Zephaniah began,

“Sing aloud, O daughter Zion;
shout, O Israel!

Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter Jerusalem!”

Our canticle, The First Song of Isaiah, concluded with the words, 

“Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy,
for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel.”

Paul told the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

And then we get to the Gospel lesson. “John [the Baptist] said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?’”

Sing aloud! Rejoice and exult! Rejoice! You brood of vipers!

I laughed, but then I wondered why. Why was John so angry?

Within our psyche, some emotions are categorized as primary. These can include fear, anger, joy, sadness, disgust, contempt, and surprise. However, anger can also be categorized as a secondary emotion—a mask for a true emotion. In some cases, anger is the mind’s way of hiding fear. One specialist notes, “The brain moves us very quickly from these primary emotions to anger. It can happen so fast that we hardly even notice the switch.” (Source)

Parents probably often experience this. Think of a time when you thought your child was in danger or doing something stupid. At first, you experience fear and concern, but as soon as the incident is resolved, you might say, “Now, I’m gonna kill ‘em.” In such circumstances, fear led to anger, but why did you fear for them in the first place? For the same reason John the Baptist called those coming to him a brood of vipers—love. 

You were afraid and angry because you love your children. John was also afraid for those coming to him, and his fear made him angry. John loved those coming to him because he loved them as God loved them. He feared what would happen to them if they did not turn from evil. He would have been like Jonah if he hadn’t cared about them. Remember him?

The Lord told Jonah, “Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and call out against it, for their evil has come up before me.” Jonah is to tell the people to repent, but instead of obeying, he flees in the opposite direction, which ends with him being swallowed by the great fish. After three days, he is spit back out on the dry land and again told by the Lord to go to Nineveh. This time, he obeys. He cries out against Nineveh, telling them the Lord will destroy them unless they repent. Miracles of miracles, the people repent, and the Lord does not destroy them. What was Jonah’s response? Jonah said, “O Lord, is not this what I said when I was yet in my country? That is why I made haste to flee to Tarshish; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster. Therefore now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.” 

Kill me now, Lord, because I’m so angry. Not angry because I feared for Nineveh, but angry because I don’t like them. They deserved to be wiped out, but no, you’ve got to be all sweet and lovey-dovey and save them.

Jonah did not want the people to be saved, but John did. John’s anger was not a sign of his contempt for the people. John’s anger was a sign of his love for them—the steady wish for their ultimate good, a willing for their good and salvation.

There are many ways love is expressed. “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” Love can be blind and revealed in silent acts, but it can, at times, be revealed even in anger. However it is manifested, “Love never ends,” and “God is love.”

Charlie Brown said, “Why can’t we love each other all year long?” Lucy responded, “What are you, a fanatic or something?” When it comes to love, God is a fanatic. 

So, here’s a question: How much do you love those around you? Do you wish for and work toward their ultimate good? Is your love for them like a sappy Hallmark card, or is your love for them a John the Baptist kind of love—a fanatic kind of love? And if you say it is fanatic love, does that extend to their soul? Like John the Baptist, do you love them enough to share your faith and call them to God? Do you love them enough to care about their life today, but also their eternal life? 

Sing aloud! Rejoice and exult! Rejoice! You brood of vipers! God loves you. Don’t keep it a secret. Go out and share God’s fanatic love with others.

Let us pray: Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen.

Sermon: Palm Sunday – “Romance”

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

Most of you are aware that not only do I enjoy reading a good story, but I also like trying to write them. Like with any endeavor, it can be helpful to read how others work, and fortunately, some of my favorite authors have written books on writing. Neil Gaiman, author of Caroline, Good Omens, and other books, in the introduction to his book, Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders, Gaiman talks about stories. He writes,

“Stories, like people and butterflies and songbirds’ eggs and human hearts and dreams, are also fragile things, made up of nothing stronger or more lasting than twenty-six letters and a handful of punctuation marks. Or they are words on the air, composed of sounds and ideas—abstract, invisible, gone once they’ve been spoken—and what could be more frail than that? But some stories, small, simple ones about setting out on adventures or people doing wonders, tales of miracles and monsters, have outlasted all the people who told them, and some of them have outlasted the lands in which they were created.” 

Stories, whether fictitious or factual, hold our attention and mold our perception of the world. Whether a believer or not, the story we hear on this day has long outlasted the people who told it and has been changing peoples’ views for over 2,000 years. No other story has affected the world more. My question for you today is this: What kind of story is it?

Most of us can agree that it is non-fiction, but even in that category, we can classify it as a particular genre. Some might say it is history, while others might categorize it as a thriller or even a horror story. There are good arguments for all these, but the one category that probably would not come to mind when reading the Passion Narrative is romance.

In their definition of a romance novel, the RWA, Romance Writers of America, says, “Two basic elements comprise every romance novel: a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending.” (Source) In the reading of the Passion Narrative, do you hear anything of a love story? Is there an optimistic ending? 

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) 

What we read on this day is the greatest romance, the greatest love story ever written—ever lived out. What we read today is Jesus looking down at you from the Cross and saying, “I love you. I love you and am enduring this so that you may be with me in My Father’s house for all eternity.” The Passion of Our Lord is many things, but at the heart, it is pure romance.

Today, I invite you to experience this romance, this love of God. To not only hear the story but to write yourself into it and become a child of God—the beloved of God. 

Sermon: Trinity Sunday RCL A – “Presence”

Photo by Charlota Blunarova on Unsplash

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.

Sermon: Epiphany 5 RCL B – “Fulfill”

Photo by Travis Grossen on Unsplash

Several years ago, at a passion play, an incident occurred during Jesus carrying the cross. A man in the audience was heckling the character playing Jesus, throwing out jeers, taunts, and dares. Finally, the character could no longer tolerate the heckler; he dropped the cross, went over, and punched out the man. The director was aghast and, after the play, pulled the actor aside and told him in no uncertain terms that he was never to do that again. But the next night, the same heckler was back, and the same thing happened again. Jesus, this time, had to be restrained. The director called the actor in and gave him an ultimatum of quitting or keeping his composure. The young actor assured the director he would keep himself under control. On the third night, the heckler was present again and taunted even stronger than the two previous nights. The man playing Jesus rose to his full stature, gritted his teeth, and told the heckler, “I’ll see you right after the resurrection.”

Today our Gospel reading was from Matthew 5:13-20, and they are a part of the Sermon on the Mount, following immediately after the Beatitudes. Verses 13 through 15 of our reading, which speak of salt and light, make for good sermon material. Verse 20—“For I tell you unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”—also makes for a good sermon, but verses 16 through 19… those are best left alone. What did they say? 

Jesus said, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.”

You wouldn’t be the first if you were confused by the meaning of that statement. In fact, it is still up for debate, but perhaps we can come close, and it primarily hinges on our understanding of the word fulfill

When we consider the word fulfill, we might think of fulfilling an order or fulfilling the requirements for something, but to fulfill can also mean “to bring to an end” (Merriam-Webster) or to bring “to its intended meaning.” (Word Biblical Commentary, p.106) When Jesus said that he did not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill it, he was saying that he came to bring the Law to its end by fulfilling it as it was intended. When Jesus spoke these words, the fulfillment was a work in process. It would not be completed until the Cross.

It was there, on the Cross, that every letter—every jot and tittle of the Law was fulfilled and completed in the life and teachings of Jesus. The Apostle Paul wrote, “For the commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not covet,’ and any other commandment, are summed up in this word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.” (Romans 13:9-10) Love fulfills the Law, and there is no greater act of love than Christ giving Himself on the Cross that we might have life in him. It was then and there that the Law was brought to its intended end, but it was also there that you and I were called to a much higher standard because before he departed, Jesus gave us a new commandment so that we might be His true disciples. Jesus said, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)

Jesus brought the Mosaic Law to its intended meaning, so he did not abolish it; he lived it—every jot and tittle—and He asks us to do the same. Jesus said, “I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus said, “The Pharisees lived the Law externally—they ‘clean the outside of the cup and the plate, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.’ (Matthew 23:25b) The Pharisees were all show, but on the inside, not so good. So if like them, you only give lip service to this new commandment, then you are no better than they are.” 

“No,” says Jesus. “You must fulfill the Law by loving one another as I have loved you. And ‘greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.’” (John 15:13) That is the new standard. So… how ya doin’? Is that how you are living your life? Is that the Law you are fulfilling in your life? In answering this, most of us could probably agree with Ernestine, the telephone operator, Lili Tomlin, “If love is the answer, could you rephrase the question?” Yet, would Jesus have given us this mandate to love as he loves if it were impossible? And if it is, then why don’t we?

I won’t speak for you, but I will speak for myself. I don’t know how to love like that. I don’t even know if I have it within me, but I also know that’s the devil within giving me an excuse. A way out of applying my body and soul to live in such a way. If I can set aside those excuses, then why? Well, I can give you some philosophical explanation or discuss the heresy of Pelagianism or something along those lines. Still, if I am honest with myself, the answer to why I can’t love as Jesus loves is—deep down inside—I don’t want to. I want to want to, but I also want to live my life according to my rules. There is this war inside of me, and the good guys don’t always win. But… that does not give me permission to stop wanting it. To stop trying. As a disciple of Jesus, I have a standard set for my life, and that standard is Jesus, so He must always be my aim. Regardless of my successes and failures, I must never stop trying.

George Herbert wrote The Country Parson. Included at the beginning was a “Note to the Reader.” Here, Herbert writes, “I have resolved to set down the Form and Character of a true Pastor, that I may have a Mark to aim at: which also I will set as high as I can, since he shoots higher that threatens the Moon, than he that aims at a Tree. Not that I think, if a man do not all which is here expressed, he presently sins, and displeases God, but that it is a good strife to go as far as we can in pleasing of him, who hath done so much for us.” (The Classics of Western Spirituality edition, p.54) We aim for the stars. We aim for Jesus. There will be days when we come close to hitting the stars, and there will be days when—regardless of how hard we try, how many times we’ve been corrected with threats of losing everything,  we will raise our fists and shout, “I’ll see you right after the resurrection.” On those days, the One who fulfilled and completed the Law will fulfill and complete our weak efforts through his grace and mercy. Those are the days when we get back on our feet, confess our sins, and try once more to fulfill the New Commandment to love as Jesus loves.

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 a willing heart.
Amen.

Sermon: Epiphany 4 RCL C – “Speaking in Love”

Photo by Giulia May on Unsplash

Triboulet was the court jester for King Louis the XII and Francis I. One day, as the king passed, Triboulet smacked him on the backside, which enraged the King. The King said that he would forgive him if he gave an even more clever response for his actions. Without missing a beat, Triboulet said, “I’m so sorry… I mistook you for the Queen!” When he was sentenced to death, the king allowed him to decide how he would die. Triboulet chose old age. Astonished, the king set him free.

An old proverb, “There’s a grain of truth in every joke” even if the King does look like his Queen. That said, no matter how the truth is spoken—jokingly or sincerely or in anger—it is not always appreciated, but that does not mean we stop speaking it. In writing to a friend, Flannery O’Connor (she was a devout Catholic) wrote, “The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it emotionally. A higher paradox confounds emotion as well as reason and there are long periods in the lives of all of us, and of the saints, when the truth as revealed by faith is hideous, emotionally disturbing, downright repulsive.” (Source) But it is still the truth, therefore it should be spoken. This is what was happening in our Gospel reading today.

Jesus is speaking to the people of his hometown, Nazareth, but the people respond by essentially saying, “Who do you think you are? We’ve known you all our lives and you’re just a carpenter.” In response, Jesus does not perform any miracles for them, instead he speaks the truth to them by reminding them of two separate incidents in their history.

The first incident deals with the prophet Elijah. There had been a famine in the land and all the Israelites were suffering, but when Elijah demonstrated the love of God through a miracle, it was not an Israelite who profited. It was the “widow at Zarephath in Sidon” who was a gentile.

In the second incident, Jesus reminds them about the Hebrew prophet Elisha. An army commander was suffering from leprosy in the land, so he came to Elisha seeking to be healed. Elisha had pity on him and told him to bathe in the Jordan River seven times. The commander did and was healed. Who was this commander? Naaman the Syrian, another gentile.

In reminding the Israelites of Nazareth of these two events, Jesus is speaking the truth. He is saying that God the Father has many times sent to them those who could bring them into the saving knowledge of God, but that they did not listen or return to God, so instead of blessing the Israelites, God chose to bless the gentiles. Jesus is saying that God is about to do the same thing. “If all you want are miracles, then God will give the knowledge of salvation to the others—to the gentiles.” Did he tell them this just to make them mad? No. That was the outcome—they tried to throw him off a cliff—but Jesus was trying to force them into seeing the error of their ways and to repent. I don’t know of many who like to be corrected for the errors, but when Jesus revealed the truth to them, they found it repulsive.

This incident shows us that we must be prepared to speak the truth, but to also hear it for ourselves when we need to be corrected. How do we go about this?

Within the Christian faith and civilized society, there are rules of engagement. There are things such as Robert’s Rules of Order, but there are even greater underlying rules. St. Paul speaks of these greater rules in his letter to the Ephesians: “Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.”

“Speaking the truth in love.” It means being sincere and honest with one another, but before we can speak to one another in such a way, we must first mature as Christians and become a community that is founded in forgiveness and mercy. We must be those who see the love and image of God in the other. Why? I’ve seen way too many people who claim to be speaking the truth in love but use their opinion or version of the truth to browbeat those who disagree with them. The truth we are to speak has nothing to do with personal revelation or preferences. The truth is founded in Holy Scripture and revealed in love. If we are mature in our faith and are certain of our love and motives, then we should go to one another and speak openly and honestly; keeping in mind that, before we go off and speak to someone, we must also be prepared for someone to come and speak to us in the same manner, because it is certainly not about being the one who is always and insufferably right.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer puts it like this: “Where Christians live together the time must inevitably come when in some crisis one person will have to declare God’s Word and will to another. It is inconceivable that things that are of utmost importance to each individual should not be spoken by one to another… The basis upon which Christians can speak to one another is that each knows the other as a sinner, who, with all his human dignity, is lonely and lost if he is not given help… This recognition [as sinners and God’s child] gives to our brotherly speech the freedom and candor that it needs. We speak to one another on the basis of the help we both need.” (Life Together, p.105-6)

Will these kind of tough conversations always go the way you plan them and will they always have the results you were hoping for? Absolutely not, but as Bonhoeffer said, we have a Christian responsibility to one another. Will everyone walk away feeling happy and delighted with the conversation? Not a chance and even if both are firm in their Christian faith, there’s still the chance of someone being hurt. As I said earlier, no one enjoys being corrected. You might even find that the one you’re speaking to becomes angry, but if you have their trust, built up over time, and were truly speaking the truth in love, the other will likely come to understand that you were not accusing them, but were in fact… loving them.

What underpins both the giving and receiving of speaking to one another in such a way is humility. My friend, Thomas a Kempis writes, “Do not think yourself better than others. If there is good in you, see more good in others, so that you may remain humble. Turn your attention upon yourself and beware of judging the deeds of other men, for in judging others a man labors vainly, often makes mistakes, and easily sins; whereas, in judging and taking stock of himself he does something that is always profitable.” In other words, speak the truth in love to yourself before you decide to do the same to another.

St. Peter in his first epistle tells us, “Love each other deeply from the heart.” It is in loving each other in this way that we are able to come alongside one another and speak those things that are sometimes difficult to hear. If done in faith and charity and humility, the result will not be a pushing apart, but a much deeper binding of us one to another and to Christ Jesus our Lord.

Let us pray: 

Lord, make us an instruments of your peace:
where there is hatred, let us sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that we may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.