The year is 1776, and you are an Anglican priest serving in the American colonies. During the service, you come to the prayers and read the following prayer: “Almighty God, the foundation of all goodness, we humbly beseech thee to bless our gracious King George and all the royal family….” The next thing you know, a rotten egg has hit you square between the eyes.
The first idea came from William White. He suggested we ordain a priest, but that idea was quickly rebuked. It would have broken the lines of apostolic succession. The next idea was to send a priest to England and have him consecrated. This was approved, and Samuel Seabury set sail. He was a loyalist, so they believed he would have a better chance of being consecrated. Still, when he arrived, no one would consecrate him because to do so for America, the consecration required that the vow of allegiance to the king be omitted, which required an act of parliament to accomplish.
As you would imagine, the Anglican Church was not very popular around the time of the American Revolutionary War. Many Anglican priests fled the communities where they were threatened, and the patriots killed others for their refusal to renounce the king. However, following the war, the Anglicans looked for a way to move forward in America—the problem was bishops. It takes a bishop to ordain clergy and three bishops to consecrate a new bishop. America didn’t even have one, so the church in Connecticut began looking for ways to resolve the problem.
As an alternative, John Adams, the ambassador of the US to England, made arrangements with the Lutheran Church of Denmark to consecrate Seabury. Thanks be to God that didn’t happen. Can you imagine me a Lutheran?! (That’s a joke.) After thirteen months of trying, Seabury petitioned the council in Connecticut for permission to try for the consecration in Scotland. The Scottish Episcopal Church had broken from the Church of England in 1725. Connecticut and the Scottish agreed, and on November 14, 1785, Samuel Seabury was consecrated as the first bishop of the Episcopal Church in America.
Later, we would have two more bishops, William White and Samuel Provost, consecrated in England in 1792. These three came together and consecrated Thomas John Clagget, the first bishop of Maryland and the first fully American bishop, and in the process, united the Scottish and English lines of episcopal succession.
For Seabury, the first time he appeared in church, he was fully vested in rochet, chimere, academic hood, and miter. Someone commented: “He appears in a black satin gown; white satin sleeves, white belly band, with a scarlet knapsack on his back, and something resembling a pyramid on his head.” A congregational minister noted: “His appearance is singular… It is said he must either be greater than other men or else he is crazy.”
The American church asked for laborers of the harvest in the form of a bishop, and they received Samuel Seabury. From him, we are here. The first Bishop of Oklahoma was Francis Key Brooke, the 165th American Bishop. Our Bishop Poulson is the 1,131st Bishop of the American Church.
There are many ways of understanding the role of bishops, but for me, St. Cyprian of Carthage put it best, “‘The Church is in the bishop and the bishop in the Church.’ Put another way, there is no Church where there is no bishop.’” (Michael Azkoul) The bishops are a connection to the past and to Christ through the laying on of hands and the handing down of the traditions and legacy of our church; therefore, we celebrate Samuel Seabury for bringing the episcopacy to America and to us that we might worship the Lord in fullness and unity.
A farmer in Maine was approached by a stranger one day and asked how much he thought his prize Jersey cow was worth. The farmer thought for a moment, looked the stranger over, and then said: “Are you the tax assessor, or has she been killed by your car?”
A shoe manufacturer decided to open up a market in the Congo in central Africa, so he sent two salesmen to the undeveloped territory. One salesman cabled back, “Prospect here nil. No one wears shoes.” The other salesman reported enthusiastically, “Market potential terrific! Everyone is barefooted.”
A woman wrote to Dear Abby. “Dear Abby: Our son was married in January. Five months later, his wife had a ten-pound baby girl. They said the baby was premature. Tell me, can a baby this big be that early—{signed} Wondering”
Abby responded, “Dear Wondering: The baby was on time, the wedding was late. Forget it.”
In most cases, regardless of the situation and the circumstances, there is more than one way of interpreting it.
In 1925, following World War I, T.S. Elliot wrote the poem “The Hollow Men.” Through the poem, he expresses a sense of hopelessness that he is experiencing in the world and personally. The poem begins,
We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats’ feet over broken glass In our dry cellar
After going further into the experience and the emotions, the poem concludes:
This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.
I pray you are feeling thoroughly uplifted at this point.
Given the current state of the world, “This is the way the world ends” is a topic that is near the surface for many. Some will pull out their Bibles, dust them off, flip to the last book, Revelation, and start trying to sort it out (I wish you the best of luck.) Others will watch, shake their heads, and be afraid. But what we are all doing is looking at various situations and circumstances and attempting to interpret and understand them. In the end, we come to all sorts of conclusions. Why?
A clinical psychologist, Natalie Dattilo, says that when we are on the outside and look at situations, we have gaps in the information needed to come to the correct understanding, so she says, “Most of the time, we fill the gaps with our own biases, assumptions, beliefs, thoughts, ideas, and conclusions.” She adds, this is “a person’s adaptive capacity to ‘construct their own reality’ and is the way a person makes sense of things in the face of incomplete or ambiguous information.” (Source)
We take the situation in the world—a situation that we can’t come close to fully understanding—and begin to fill in the information gaps with our own biases, prejudices, ideas, etc, and come to a particular conclusion. For some, the conclusion is, “This is the way the world ends.”
An example: the current crisis in the Middle East. Do you understand that situation? I’ll answer that question for you—No. You do not. I don’t know that anyone fully understands it, so we all have gaps in the information we need to reach a proper conclusion. However, that will not stop anyone from drawing conclusions. How do we do that? We start filling those information gaps with our biases, prejudices, and so on. In other words, we start seeing that situation through various lenses.
If you are pro-Israel, then you will be biased in that direction and see the current situation through a pro-Israel lens. If you believe Hamas/Palestine are in the right, then you have a pro-Palestine lens. See how that works? If we had only one lens through which we viewed such situations, we might be able to sort it out, but there are many. For some, there is the Biblical lens: the Jews are God’s chosen people, the Bible says the Temple must be rebuilt, and the land is God’s gift. All of these are lenses. There’s the economic lens. What’s this going to do to the price of gas? The fear lens: does Iran have nuclear weapons, and will they use them? Will this spill over to the rest of the world? Lens after lens and the true picture of what is going on is completely distorted, and there is no way to establish the truth. So, how do we go about this? How do we interpret the world around us?
Bishop Robert Barron—he’s Roman Catholic, so don’t tell our neighbors I was quoting him—Bishop Barron says, “What was peculiar about ancient Israel was their reading the world through theological lenses. When they wanted to read the signs of the times, they wondered what God was doing and why. The deepest and truest reading is the theological one that seeks after the divine causality and purpose that works under and through all the other lenses.” Instead of trying to interpret the world through your self-constructed lenses, ask, “What is God doing and why?”
Jesus spoke to His disciples about the end of days. It was then that the disciples asked Him, “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” (Matthew 24:3) In answering the question, He told them many things, including the Parable of the Ten Virgins that we heard today. “Five of them were foolish, and five were wise.” Five did not have enough oil for their lamps to last the night, and five did. The wise ones were allowed into the wedding feast, but when the foolish ones arrived late, the bridegroom told them, “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.” Jesus concluded his answer about the end of the age come by saying, “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”
Jesus gave the disciples many signs of the end of days, and individuals have been attempting to interpret those signs through what they see taking place in the world. Still, those same individuals have gaps in their information, so they are using those self-constructed lenses to see the world, and, in the process, they are misinterpreting what is taking place. Therefore, to correctly interpret what is going on, we must set aside our lenses and seek to answer the question, “What is God doing and why?” And to come even close to an answer, we need something that is in very short supply.
Punch was a weekly satirical publication in England. In the April 10, 1875 issue, they printed the following poem (not nearly as deep as “The Hollow Men”).
“There was an owl liv’d in an oak The more he heard, the less he spoke The less he spoke, the more he heard. O, if men were all like that wise bird.”
The poem is where the expression “Wise as an owl” originated. We will never completely know the mind of God, but to come close to answering the question, “What is God doing and why?”—we need to be wise. We need wisdom.
In the Book of Proverbs, a father is speaking to his son and says, “Let your heart hold fast my words; keep my commandments, and live. Get wisdom; get insight; do not forget, and do not turn away from the words of my mouth. Do not forsake her, and she will keep you; love her, and she will guard you. The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom, and whatever you get, get insight.” (Proverbs 4:4-7)
“Get wisdom; get insight.” Will this give us crystal clear answers so we can rightly interpret everything? Nope. But it will allow us to take off the lenses we’ve constructed, which means we will set aside all those biases, prejudices, opinions, and misinterpretations and at least begin to try to see what God is doing.
“Get wisdom; get insight.” Where is wisdom to be found? St. James tells us, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.” (James 1:5)
The word that gets batted around frequently these days is misinformation. In some cases, the misinformation is deliberate. Individuals and groups intentionally distorting the truth for their own benefit, but a lot of misinformation enters into the discussion because of ignorance due to a lack of wisdom. Don’t contribute, and don’t participate. If you want to begin to understand the world around you and the signs of the time, humble yourself, set aside what you think you know, and ask God for wisdom and insight. God will not deny you this request.
Let us pray: God Almighty, Your Wisdom includes An understanding of what is fair, What is logical, what is true, What is right, and what is lasting. It mirrors Your pure intellect! We entreat You to grant us such Wisdom, That our labors may reflect Your insight. Your Wisdom expands in Your creations, Displaying complexity and abundance. Your Wisdom is an eternity ahead of us. May Your wisdom flourish forever! Amen.
I have shared this with you before on a Wednesday, but it such a great story, it is worth repeating. The story of Leo the Great facing off with Atilla the Hun. From a Medieval Sourcebook: “Attila, the leader of the Huns, who was called the scourge of God, came into Italy, inflamed with fury, after he had laid waste with most savage frenzy” cities and towns all across Asia and Europe. When he came to Italy, it was feared that he would do the same there. The burden of negotiations fell to one man: the Bishop of Rome, later known as Leo the Great.
The text continues: “Leo had compassion on the calamity of Italy and Rome… went to meet Attila. The old man of harmless simplicity, venerable in his gray hair and his majestic garb, ready of his own will to give himself entirely for the defense of his flock, went forth to meet the tyrant who was destroying all things. He met Attila… saying “The senate and the people of Rome, once conquerors of the world, now indeed vanquished, come before thee as suppliants. We pray for mercy and deliverance. O Attila, thou king of kings, thou couldst have no greater glory than to see suppliant at thy feet this people before whom once all peoples and kings lay suppliant. Thou hast subdued, O Attila, the whole circle of the lands which it was granted to the Romans, victors over all peoples, to conquer. Now we pray that thou, who hast conquered others, shouldst conquer thyself. The people have felt thy scourge; now as suppliants they would feel thy mercy.”
As Leo said these things Attila stood looking upon his venerable garb and aspect, silent, as if thinking deeply. And lo, suddenly there were seen the apostles Peter and Paul, clad like bishops, standing by Leo, the one on the right hand, the other on the left. They held swords stretched out over his head, and threatened Attila with death if he did not obey the pope’s command. Wherefore Attila was appeased he who had raged as one mad. He by Leo’s intercession, straightway promised a lasting peace and withdrew beyond the Danube.”
For facing off against Atilla, Leo the Great (d.461) is known as “The Shield of God.”
I thought to myself, “You’ll never have to do battle like that,” but then I remembered how Michael and the angels fought against satan and his rebellious angels. After they cast out satan and the others, and it was said, “Therefore, rejoice, O heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to you, O earth and sea, for the devil has come down to you in great wrath, because he knows that his time is short!” It isn’t Atilla the Hun that comes against us. Our enemy is far worse; therefore, we must follow the teachings of Holy Scripture: “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful.” Why? “Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.” (1 Peter 5:6-9)
And do not fear, for as Leo had Peter and Paul fighting by his side, we do as well, and more importantly, we have the Lord. As Moses told the Israelites, “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.” (Exodus 14:14)
Your battles against satan and the evil spirits are as vicious and deadly as the battles against Atilla the Hun, but just as Leo was victorious, you will be as well. As the Psalmist declared,
Your way, O God, is holy; who is so great a god as our God?
One day, eight-year-old Melissa tells her mother, “Mommy, I’ve been thinking about us humans, and I’m a bit puzzled. How did we first appear on Earth?”
“That’s a very good question, darling,” her mother replies. “God made Adam and Eve, and they had children, and then their children had children, and as a result, mankind began.”
Later that day, Melissa asks her father the same question. “Daddy, how did we humans first appear on Earth?”
“That’s an intelligent question, Melissa,” he replies. “Millions of years ago, there were monkeys from which, gradually, the human race evolved.”
Melissa is confused by this answer and goes back to her mother. “Mommy,” she asks, “how come you told me the human race was created by God, yet Daddy said they developed from monkeys?”
“Well darling,” replies her mother, smiling, “the answer is simple. I told you about my side of the family, and your father told you about his.”
In some circles, the answer to the question of where we came from is still debated—and it is certainly not one I’m diving into today—but I think both sides (I could be wrong) could agree on the role DNA plays in our individual makeup.
It was in 1953 that James Watson and Francis Crick published a one-page article, “A Structure for Deoxyribose Nucleic Acid,” in the scientific weekly journal Nature. That article is the core of our understanding of DNA because it was there that the double-helix structure of DNA was reported.
If you jump back to your science classes in school, you may remember a bit about DNA. I had to do a bit of research. The article that I could understand stated, “DNA is made of two linked strands that wind around each other to resemble a twisted ladder—a shape known as a double helix…. [and] the two strands are connected by chemical bonds between the bases.” The DNA “makes each of us who we are.” The color of our eyes and skin to, our intellectual capacity, and how well we can see are all based on our DNA. Even more impressive is that “the DNA from any two people is 99.9% identical, with that shared blueprint guiding our development and forming a common thread across the world. The differing 0.1% contains variations that influence our uniqueness.” (Source) Two linked strands of sugars and phosphates make us who we are. Those two linked strands are also the root cause of birth defects and disease and are ultimately responsible for killing us (should we not die of some outside agent.)
In the early stages of development, if the DNA does not come together as it should, we end up with varying degrees and types of birth defects. Should a particular strand of DNA be coded wrong and begin to develop uncontrollably, tumors form. And, over time, as more minor errors enter the process, we age and die.
Why the lesson in genetics this morning? There are two aspects, two strands of our faith: orthodoxy and orthopraxy.
Orthodoxy is correct belief. As a Christian, what is it we believe? Every week, we state it: “We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty… We believe in Jesus Christ… We believe in the Holy Spirit.” Orthodoxy is the adherence to these statements. It is why, when we make or renew our Baptismal Covenant, the celebrant asks, “Do you believe in God the Father,” and so on. Orthodoxy deals with things of grace and matters of faith. If there were only orthodoxy right belief, many of us would probably be in good shape, but there is also the other strand, orthopraxy.
Orthopraxy is correct action, dealing with ethics, morality, and behavior. Where the Creeds give us the best understanding of orthodoxy, the Law, the Ten Commandments, provides the best example of orthopraxy. Right action: Thou shall not commit murder. If you don’t kill, amongst other things, then your actions are correct.
Like the double helix of DNA, orthodoxy and orthopraxy are two strands that cannot function without the other—although there have been some who have tried. In the time of Jesus, the Pharisees relied entirely on orthopraxy. Jesus condemned them for this as the ones who looked good on the outside but who were unchanged on the inside. During the 4th and 5th centuries, St. Augustine of Hippo dealt with the other side as he confronted the heresy of Manichaeism. They believed that the outside world or our sins could not taint us. Both views were errors. Orthodoxy and orthopraxy must work in union with one another. Like the double helix, the two strands must be brought together, and this was accomplished through Jesus. He summed it up for us last week, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”
With regard to our faith, right believing and right acting are expressed and practiced through our love of God and our love of one another. Wouldn’t it be nice if that were the end of it? Unfortunately, we like to complicate things because instead of living according to what Jesus said, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to establish orthodoxy and orthopraxy according to our standards. Of course, we know better than God.
Jesus said to love, but we say, “Before we can love, we must decide what we do and do not believe and how we should and should not act.” Once that is decided, we say, “I can love you if you believe the way I believe. I can love my neighbor as long as they act according to what I decide is right behavior.” In doing this, we introduce errors into this genetic “spiritual” code and bring about dis-ease, defect, and even death. By introducing errors, we’ve created an entirely new set of problems.
Taken to one extreme, orthopraxy can become fundamentalism and fanaticism—“Believe as we say, do as we say, or go to hell.” Taken to another extreme, orthodoxy can become apostasy, where everything is A-OK, and there is no right and wrong—“Believe what you like. What’s most important is that you feel good and are happy.” Combine the two and take them in a particular direction, and you’ll end up with the prosperity gospel—“Believe right, act right, and God will give you a million bucks!” The problem is that instead of allowing God to establish right belief and right action, we take it upon ourselves.
I say, My way is the right way, and all others are wrong. Jesus says, “Blessed are the peacemakers. Blessed are the merciful.” I say I can do whatever I want when I want. Jesus says, “Blessed are the pure in heart. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” I say ___, and Jesus says, “Blessed are the meek,” the humble. I say I want, Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”
This is All Saints’ Sunday. The day that we celebrate the great Saints that have gone before us. The Saints did not become Saints because they did all things correctly. They did not become Saints because they believed all things correctly. They became Saints because they did not play God. They became Saints because, first and foremost, they sought after God and not their own understanding. Not “I.”
The author of Proverbs writes, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones.” (Proverbs 3:5-8)
St. Francis de Sales said, “Sanctity does not consist in being odd, but it does consist in being rare.” It is a rare soul that can look beyond their understandings, prejudices, wants, beliefs… beyond “I.” It is a rare soul that can get out of the way and allow God to be God. However, when we do, we begin to catch glimpses of God’s understanding of the world around us, truths that are beyond narrowed vision, and a love that knows no limits. Refusing is quite the opposite of God’s calling on our lives.
Let us pray (this is a prayer I also shared during our Wednesday Mass): Dear Jesus, in the Sacrament of the Altar, be forever thanked and praised. Love, worthy of all celestial and terrestrial love! Who, out of infinite love for me, ungrateful sinner, didst assume our human nature, didst shed Thy most Precious Blood in the cruel scourging, and didst expire on a shameful Cross for our eternal welfare! Now illumined with lively faith, with the outpouring of my whole soul and the fervor of my heart, I humbly beseech Thee, through the infinite merits of Thy painful sufferings, give me strength and courage to destroy every evil passion which sways my heart, to bless Thee by the exact fulfillment of my duties, supremely to hate all sin, and thus to become a Saint. Amen.
The Way of Salvation fresco by Andrea di Bonaiuto da Firenze
The Book Ecclesiasticus is from the Apocrypha, and the 44th chapter begins,
Let us now sing the praises of famous men, our ancestors in their generations. The Lord apportioned to them great glory, his majesty from the beginning.
So, on this All Saints Day, let us.
About the year 115 a.d. there lived a man we know as Ignatius of Antioch. Except for a brief history, all we know of him comes to us through legend and seven letters he wrote. Concerning the legend, do you remember the story of the little boy that Jesus picked up? Having brought the child into the midst of the disciples, Jesus said, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” (Mark 9:37) Well, the legend of Ignatius tells us that he was this child. Legend/history tells us that Ignatius would go on to become Bishop in Antioch. During one of the many persecutions, he was captured and taken to Rome for trial. He would be tried and executed for treason. However, during the journey between Antioch and Rome, his guards treated him somewhat civilly and were sympathetic to the elderly man, so they allowed him to write letters to the believers back home. Seven of those letters survive to this day, and through them, some of the foundational stones of the Christian Church were laid, especially as they relate to Holy Scripture, the Creeds, Bishops, Priests, Deacons, and the liturgy. Ignatius of Antioch is clearly a Saint in the Christian Church. Let us sing the praises of Ignatius.
Let’s change one word of the verse from Ecclesiasticus and say, “Let us now sing the praises of famous women.” The Blessed Virgin Mary is the most famous, but many others exist. During the time of Emperor Septimus Severus in the early third century, it was illegal to convert to Christianity. This likely deterred some, but not all. If the officials became aware, the convert was arrested and given the opportunity to recant. They were then required to make sacrifices to the Roman gods. Only then could they go about their business. If they refused, they were put to death. Felicity and Perpetua were two women who refused to recant their faith even though they had both only recently been baptized and both had just had children. On the day of their execution, they were given one last chance to recant, and when they refused, a wild bull was released into the cage where they were and trampled. Wounded by the animal, they gave each other the kiss of peace and were then put to the sword. Felicity and Perpetua are martyr saints in the Christian Church. Let us sing the praises of Felicity and Perpetua.
We could do this all day and not even hear the tip of the iceberg because the Church recognizes more than 10,000 official Saints. And when we begin to include individuals such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Martyrs of Uganda, C.S. Lewis, and Evelyn Underhill, the list seems endless. However, we are still not done singing praises. Why? There are many more in the making. Today, my question for you is, “How are you becoming a Saint?” For becoming a saint should be the desire of us all. How do you go about it? My friend, St. Josemaría Escrivá wrote, “Do you really want to be a saint? Carry out the little duty of each moment: do what you ought and concentrate on what you are doing.” (The Way, 815)
Follow in the footsteps of the Saints, and in the end, not only will you hear others sing your praises, but you will hear Jesus as well when He says, “Well done, good and faithful servant…. Enter into the joy of your master.” (Matthew 25:21)
Around 67 A.D., when Nero was Emperor, Paul was imprisoned in Rome. A few years prior, Peter had been crucified in Rome, and a year or so following, Paul would also be put to death, most likely by beheading. We can only imagine the trials that he must have endured during this time, and it was at this time that Paul wrote his second letter to Timothy that we read.
He says to Timothy, “Do your best to come to me soon, for Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica; Crescens has gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia. Only Luke is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful in my ministry. I have sent Tychicus to Ephesus.” A few verses later, he says, “Alexander the coppersmith did me great harm; the Lord will pay him back for his deeds… At my first defense no one came to my support, but all deserted me… Erastus remained in Corinth; Trophimus I left ill in Miletus. Do your best to come before winter.”
Paul does not strike me as a whiner, but in reading these verses, you can hear the anxiety in his voice. He knows his death is near, and he is mostly alone. There is mention of some others who are near, but many others have left, deserted, or betrayed him, and there is mention of only one that is with him: “Only Luke is with me.” Today is the Feast of St. Luke, and there are many great things that we can say about him, but for me, that one line seems to sum them all up: Luke is with me.
For Paul, Luke was a friend, companion, ally, support, minister, etc. In short, Luke was the Church to Paul. We all know that the Church is not made of wood and stone but flesh and blood. We also know that it is not perfect but a gathering of souls seeking God and His will. Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsey said, “When I say in the Creed, ‘I believe in One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church,’ I am saying that I believe that there is a divine society, the risen Christ is the glory in the midst of it, the Holy Spirit is at work within it. Wherever its members respond to the reality about themselves and their calling, the marks of saintliness do indeed begin to appear.”
The Church is made of flesh and blood and is not perfect, but it is a divine society made up of those who look beyond themselves, who see into the reality of the world around them, and who desire to seek and serve Christ in all the various situations. They are ones, and the church is one that seeks saintliness. What might that look like? Luke’s example points the way. He demonstrates to us a life of sacrifice, a life that—even though everyone else may quit or abandon or betray—remains faithful, standing firm in Christ and exhibiting the love of Jesus in his every deed and word.
We, as the disciples of Jesus, are called to be that Church. By so doing, as members of the Church, the Body of Christ, when any of us are experiencing those times of great joy or are in our darkest hour, we will be able to confidently say with Paul, “Luke is with me. ___ is with me. ___ is with me. The Church is with me. And because these are with me, Christ Jesus is with me.” We will be confident in saying this because each of us will have sought after that saintliness, not for our own glory, but the glory of God.
The U.S. standard railroad gauge (distance between rails) is four feet, eight-and-one-half inches.
Why such an odd number? Because that’s the way they built them in England, and American railroads were built by British expatriates.
Why did the English adopt that particular gauge? Because the people who built the pre-railroad tramways used that gauge.
They, in turn, were locked into that gauge because the people who built tramways used the same standards and tools they had used for building wagons, which were set on a gauge of four feet, eight-and-one-half inches.
Why were wagons built to that scale? Because with any other size, the wheels did not match the old wheel ruts on the roads.
So, who built these old rutted roads?
“The first long-distance highways in Europe were built by Imperial Rome for the benefit of their legions. The roads have been in use ever since. The ruts were first made by Roman war chariots. Four feet, eight- and-one-half inches was the width a chariot needed to be to accommodate the rear ends of two war horses.”
Some things never change, but perhaps they should, especially if the standard used to measure is a horse’s… backside.
The parable we heard today comes immediately on the heels of the parable we heard last week, the Parable of the Wicked Tenants. In that parable, Jesus condemned the religious leaders because they had not fulfilled the work God had given to them—to be the light of the world. This week’s parable is much the same but is not only applicable to the religious leaders but to everyone.
The king held a wedding feast for his son and sent out the invitations. The recipients of those invitations did not take it seriously. They made trivial excuses as to why they couldn’t attend—I have a hangnail, that’s the day I plan to rearrange my bookcases, I’m pretty sure I’ll have a headache that day, and so on. Upon receiving their invitation, others took it several steps further, abusing or even killing the messengers. All this enraged the king, so he sent in his troops and destroyed the city where those who had been invited lived; then, the king told his servants, “We’re having a wedding feast for my son; invite anyone and everyone.” So they did, and the wedding hall was filled.
In the parable, the king represents God, the people invited are the Israelites, and the messengers are the prophets. Time and again, God invited the people, forgave the people, and implored the people. He tried everything to bring them into a right relationship with Himself, but they refused. The last straw was their refusal to participate in the life of His Son, Jesus. What is stated next in the parable is a prophecy of what will transpire due to their refusal. First, God will burn their city. This is referencing the destruction of Jerusalem that occurred about forty years later in 70 a.d. Second, God invited others into relationship—God invited the Gentiles. He invited us to the wedding, into relationship with Himself through Jesus, and grafted us in. (cf Romans 11:11-24) The wedding hall was full, and they all lived happily ever after. Well, almost all.
“But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.” Who is this guy, and why did he get the boot? We need to go back earlier in Jesus’ ministry for the answer.
In Matthew 7, Jesus said, “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” (v.19) He then says, “Not everyone who
says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’” (v. 21-23)
Many appear to have heard the word of God and seem to be doing the work of God. They are doing and saying all the right things, but, as the saying goes, all that glitters is not gold. Soon after today’s parable, Jesus will say, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and the plate, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. You blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and the plate, that the outside also may be clean.” (Matthew 23:25-26) The man removed from the wedding appeared to be saying and doing everything right. He was all shiny on the outside but not so much on the inside. The man was happy being in his four-foot, eight-and-one-half- inch rut and did not think he needed to change. He said in his heart, take me as I am, or don’t take me at all; and God said, “OK,” and didn’t take him.
We read in St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians, “Beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.” Keep on doing the things you have learned, received, heard, and seen. In other words, you were on a particular path, but you came to understand that it was the wrong path and, therefore, learned a new way. Keep going in this new way.
That old hymn, Just as I am—we can hear those words and think that God will take us just as we are. Will He? Yes, He will. No question. No doubt. Warts and all, but God does not plan on you staying just as you are. The former Bishop of Durham, N.T. Wright says, “When the prostitutes and extortioners came to Jesus, he didn’t say, ‘You’re all right as you are.’ His love reached them where they were, but his love refused to let them stay as they were. Love wants the best for the beloved. Their lives were transformed, healed, changed.” (Matthew for Everyone, vol. 2, p. 84) The man removed from the wedding feast wanted to go to the party but also wanted to stay as he was. In his arrogance, he did not believe he needed to be transformed, healed, and changed.
Peter Senge, a professor at MIT and the author of The Fifth Discipline, a book on business management, recalls the words of a consultant, “People don’t resist change; they resist being changed.” (p.144) That is true in business, and that is true in our daily lives, including our life with God. In our pride, we say, “I’m good enough, and I don’t need to change. God will just have to take me as I am.” We resist the changes that need to be made in our lives in order to reflect the righteousness we are called into. In the context of the parable, we say to the King, “The clothes I have on are good enough for me, so they’ll just have to be good enough for You.” The King says, “The standard by which you are measuring yourself is equal to a horse’s backside. Therefore, refusing to be transformed into the Image of God means you’ll never be anything more than a horse’s… backside.” Your refusal to be transformed means you’ll be removed from the wedding feast.
Jesus said, “Enter [the Kingdom of Heaven] by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” (Matthew 7:12-13) Break out of the ruts of your life and follow the path where Jesus has led the way. By doing so, you will not be fashionable or a part of the crowd. As a matter of fact, you may find very few along the way, but if you are following Jesus, then He will lead you through the narrow gate and into the wedding feast.
Let us pray: Father of love, hear our prayer. Help us to know Your Will and to do it with courage and faith. Accept the offering of ourselves, all our thoughts, words, deeds, and sufferings. May our lives be spent giving You glory. Give us the strength to follow Your call, so that Your Truth may live in our hearts and bring peace to us and to those we meet, for we believe in Your Love. Amen.
Section of a fresco in the Niccoline Chapel by Fra Angelico, depicting Saint Peter consecrating the Seven Deacons. Saint Stephen is shown kneeling.
Today, we celebrate Philip, but in the New Testament, which is he? There was Philip, the brother of Herod, so I’m pretty sure we can cross him off the list, but then there was also Philip the Apostle. From the tenth chapter of Matthew, “Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits…” and Philip is one of the twelve named. However, in the sixth chapter of the Book of Acts, we learn that the disciples are becoming overwhelmed by the amount of work required, so they call seven others to work alongside them in the capacity of what we would now call a deacon. The most famous is Stephen because he is the first martyr of the Church, but included in the list of the seven is another, Philip, and it is this Philip that we celebrate today. How do we know which one he is?
Before Paul (a.k.a. Saul) was converted while traveling the road to Damascus, he acted as one of the early church’s great persecutors, which led to the dispersal of many Christians. Acts 8 describes it: “That day a severe persecution began against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria.”
“All except the apostles…” meaning that the Apostle Philip remained in Jerusalem, but just a few verses on, we read, “Now those who were scattered went from place to place, proclaiming the word. Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed the Messiah to them.” Most scholars agree that Philip, the deacon, became a very influential evangelist in Samaria after the dispersal. He did so well that the disciples in Jerusalem had to see it for themselves: “Now when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent Peter and John to them.”
The most familiar story we have of Philip is the conversion of the Ethiopian Eunuch, also occurring in chapter 8 of the Book of Acts that we hear today. It takes a good bit of work to sort this story out, but the eunuch was probably not as we understand a eunuch to be, but was most likely the Chancellor (think right-hand person to the Queen) and guardian of the treasury. In addition, he was a God-fearer—he believed in the God of the Jews and had made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem to worship at the Temple. On the return trip, an angel of the Lord brings Philip to him, who opens the scriptures up, proclaims the Good News, and baptizes him. Following this, “When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away; the eunuch saw him no more, and went on his way rejoicing.” St. Irenaeus writes that upon returning to Ethiopia, the eunuch founded the Ethiopian Church. As for Philip, he doesn’t return to the story in Acts until chapter twenty-one, about twenty-four years later.
Paul and Luke have been on a missionary journey. Luke writes, “The next day we left [Ptolemais] and came to Caesarea; and we went into the house of Philip the evangelist, one of the seven, and stayed with him. He had four unmarried daughters who had the gift of prophecy.” From there, St. Jerome tells us that Philip went on to become a bishop in the area and is believed to have died peacefully years later.
Philip found a place to call home. He had a wife and children. He did the work quietly and steadily. He was faithful to what he had been called to at a young age. For every one of the great Saints we study, there are 1,000s more who quietly, steadily, and faithfully go about the work of the Kingdom. We can look to these great ones for inspiration, and we can look at these other “great” ones, like Philip, for understanding how to live it out in our daily lives.
Clotile talked ol’ Boudreaux into taking her to New Your City because there was a Broadway show she really wanted to go and see, primarily because Pierre, the lead dancer, was a fella from Louisiana. Well, they fly up to Yankee Central and go to the show.
Soon after the show starts, Pierra walks onto the stage and starts doing the most beautiful, energetic, and exciting dancing that either of them has ever seen. His dances include some elegant ballet and some modern dance. At one point, he incorporates some contemporary dancing like the moonwalk, break dancing, and even some energetic acrobatic dancing. Suddenly, Clotile turns to Boudreaux and, pointing to Pierre on the stage, says, “I didn’t tell you this before, but I know this man from my ‘previous life.’ In fact, he proposed to me nearly 20 years ago, but I quickly rejected him as he just wasn’t my type.”
Boudreaux nodded understandingly and said, “Well, it looks to me like he’s still celebrating!” I’m guessing ol’ Bordeaux was also wishing he had been rejected.
This past week, I came across a short news story about an archeological site in southeastern France. As they went through the dig, they came across a piece of tile flooring, maybe two feet by one foot. There wasn’t anything extraordinary about it—no hieroglyphs or mosaics—but right in the middle was a toddler’s footprint. You can imagine Dad working hard to make the tiles, and while his back is turned, his child walks across the freshly poured tile. It reminded me of a few of the tiles at the Blessed Stanley Rother Shrine. When those were made, they were placed in the sun to dry, and a happy dog had walked across some. I may have mentioned it to you before, but after the guide pointed it out, it was easy to spend more time looking for paw prints than it was looking at the cathedral.
As I was thinking about this, I was reminded of my trip to Portugal and my time in some of the ancient cathedrals and monasteries. During the tour of the Monastery of Batalha—construction began in 1386—our tour guide pointed out various symbols carved into each stone. Each symbol was simple but unique. These are known as “banker’s marks” and are the “signature” of the stone mason who cut the stone so that when the stone arrived at the construction site, the mason could receive payment for his work. Like those paw prints in the tiles at the Rother Shrine, once you knew banker’s marks were there, you looked for them.
With those hand-cut stones, not only were the great cathedrals built, but so were castles, sea walls, and other buildings, public and private. What is so surprising and difficult to understand is that those cathedrals and other structures that were constructed centuries upon centuries ago are still standing. Yet, we’ve got buildings that were built fifty years ago that are completely falling apart. Why? There are several reasons, but part of the answer lies in the concrete used to hold those stones together.
The concrete we use today has a life span of fifty to one hundred years, but the concrete used to build the Mayan temples—temples that are over 1,000 years old and still standing—is still in place and not going anywhere. A recent article stated, “Even in harbors, where seawater has been battering structures for ages, you’ll find concrete ‘basically the way it was when it was poured 2,000 years ago.’” (Source) That being the case, scientists are now studying the makeup and chemistry of the concrete used 1,000s years ago to see if it can be recreated.
Put all that together, if you want to build something that is still standing in a millennium, you’ll need the right material, but you’ll also need a good plan and a solid foundation. In his book Walden, Henry David Thoreau wrote, “If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.” (Chapter 18) Once you have these things, good material, and a solid foundation, you lay the first stone—the cornerstone. The cornerstone “is the first stone that is set in the construction of the foundation and all other stones are set in reference to this stone. This stone determines the position of the entire structure.” (Source)
Jesus has made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, cleansed the temple of the money changers, and been in arguments with the religious leaders. They are not happy with Him. The feeling is mutual. In response to their actions, Jesus said, “Listen to another parable.” He then tells the parable of the wicked tenants.
A man has a vineyard. After everything is in place for its safekeeping, the owner hires some tenants to care for it. Those tenants get to keep a portion of what they grow, but they also owe the owner a significant amount—more than they would get to keep. In the parable, when the owner sends his slaves to collect what is due, the tenants beat, stone, and murder them. The owner then sends his son, thinking the tenants would deal rightly with him, but the tenants say, “This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.” We kill him, and we get everything.
After telling the parable, Jesus asked the religious leaders, “‘When the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?’ They said to him, ‘He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.’” By answering such, the religious leaders have condemned themselves, for in the parable, the vineyard’s owner represents God the Father, the vineyard represents the people of God, the owner’s slaves are the prophets, the son is Jesus, and the tenants are the very same religious leaders Jesus was arguing with.
Jesus was saying to religious leaders that God the Father placed His people into your care, but you didn’t do a good job of it, so God the Father sent his prophets to correct you and show you your errors. And it wasn’t just one prophet, but many, the last being John the Baptist. Yet, in every case, you failed to listen, so Jesus said, the Father has sent Me, His Son, and… well, we all know what you’re planning for me, “Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.”
In the midst of saying all this, Jesus made the comment regarding the cornerstone, which is the explanation as to how they had gotten it all wrong:
“‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes’?”
The cornerstone “is the first stone that is set in the construction of the foundation and all other stones are set in reference to this stone. This stone determines the position of the entire structure,” but you religious leaders rejected it. You built something, yes, but what you built will not last. It was flawed from the very beginning; therefore, it will be given to others who will rebuild. Not only will these others use quality materials, but they will also use the cornerstone; they will use God—Jesus—as their point of reference for all they do.
What was rebuilt is the Church. St. Paul teaches us in his letter to the Ephesians, “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling-place for God.” (Ephesians 2:19-22)
In this dwelling place of God, you, each of you can be considered a stone, cut by the master stone mason, and on you, he has carved his banker’s mark, “For you were bought with a price.” (1 Corinthians 6:20a) The price being the Blood of Christ. And it is the Holy Spirit of God binding us together (cf. Ephesians 4:3) into this dwelling place of God, His one holy catholic and apostolic Church. Not a building of stone and mortar but one of flesh and blood. Not a building that will crumble and fall after a few years, but one that will last for all eternity.
Today, I ask you to remember that as a part of God’s Church, you are a part of something much larger than yourself. You are a part of something that expands across the earth and time. And not only does it grow outward, but also upward to join with those that have gone before us, those who will come after us, and with the very Throne Room of God. Because we are a part of it, it is far from perfect, but it is the Place where God has chosen to make Himself known, and you, each of you, are His ambassadors.
Let us pray: Everliving God, Whose will it is that all should come to You through Your Son Jesus Christ: Inspire our witness to Him, that all may know the power of His forgiveness and the hope of His resurrection; Who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Candle in a Cave 