Sermon: Proper 21 RCL A – “Obdurate”

Photo by Bibake Uppal on Unsplash

The new priest was asked to teach a teens Sunday School class in the regular teacher’s absence. He decided to see what they knew, so he asked who knocked down the walls of Jericho. All the youth denied doing it, and the priest was appalled by their ignorance.

The priest told the members about the experience at the next vestry meeting. “Not one of them knows who knocked down the walls of Jericho,” he lamented. The group was silent until, finally, one seasoned veteran of disputes spoke up. “Father, this appears to be bothering you a lot. But I’ve known all those kids since they were born, and they’re good kids. If they said they didn’t know, I believe them. Let’s just take some money out of the repair and maintenance fund, fix the walls, and let it go at that.”

I’ve never had the experience of teaching in a school, but having taught a few lessons, I know that teaching can sometimes be a challenge. It can become more challenging and even frustrating when individuals are unteachable. I follow this guy on Instagram, Don Huley, who has the Daily Word. Earlier this week, the word was ‘obdurate.’ Don says, “Obdurate. Ob. Dur. It. Adjective. Obdurate is defined as stubbornly refusing to change one’s opinion or course of action.” Unteachable is obdurate. 

Is it a thing? Can we become obdurate? I could bring up politics, but you wouldn’t hear anything afterward, so let’s choose something less contentious: flat earth (which is a far more intellectual conversation than the current state of US politics.) 

If we have a room full of people, half of which believe planet Earth is a globe, and the other half think it is flat, you will be in a room full of obdurate people. Regardless of all the science and proof you can bring, you will not be able to change the mind of a single individual. They are entrenched in their beliefs, and not only are they mentally entrenched, but they are also emotionally entrenched. Heated arguments will ensue. Obdurate. Unteachable.

Today, in our Gospel, the chief priests and elders came to Jesus and asked him by whose authority He was speaking. Instead of answering directly, Jesus asked them, “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” They refuse to answer because they are caught, and they are cowards. Then, Jesus tells the story of the two brothers. 

The father tells the first son to go and work in the vineyard. He tells his father, “No,” but then changes his mind and does as asked. The father also tells the second son to go and work in the vineyard. He says, “Yes,” but then does not. Jesus then asks which of the two sons was obedient. The religious leaders say the first. Jesus responds, “Truly, I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.”

Jesus said the tax collectors and sinners are like the first son. Early in their lives, they did not follow the ways of God, but upon hearing the truth from John the Baptist, they changed their minds, repented, and followed God. However, you religious leaders who claim to know the truth already are… obdurate! You are unteachable; therefore, you are like the second son. You claim to have known the ways of God all along, but even when you heard the truth, you refused to change.

You are probably familiar with the adage, “A leopard cannot change his spots.” We take it to mean that a person cannot change, but did you know it comes from the Prophet Jeremiah? 

The Israelites because of their willful and prolonged lives of sin, God—through the Prophet Jeremiah—threatened them with exile by having the Babylonians come in and take them captive.

“Hear and give ear; be not proud,
for the Lord has spoken.
Give glory to the Lord your God
before he brings darkness,before your feet stumble
on the twilight mountains,and while you look for light
he turns it into gloom
and makes it deep darkness.
But if you will not listen,
my soul will weep in secret for your pride;my eyes will weep bitterly and run down with tears,
because the Lord’s flock has been taken captive….
And if you say in your heart,
‘Why have these things come upon me?’it is for the greatness of your iniquity.”
(Jeremiah 13:15-17, 22a)

You are in trouble and will be taken captive because of your sins.

The Lord then says,
“Can the Ethiopian change his skin
or the leopard his spots?”
(Jeremiah 13:23a)

The answer to both those questions is no. A person cannot change the color of their skin, and a leopard cannot change its spots. We always take that idea to have negative connotations. An evil person may appear to have changed, but they’re really still a bad person. It’s just a matter of time. But the Lord, when He spoke those words, meant it for the positive because immediately afterward, the Lord said,

“Then also you can do good
who are accustomed to do evil.”
(Jeremiah 13:23b)

The Lord said to the Israelites, through the Prophet Isaiah, “I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (Isaiah 49:6b) The Lord said, “A leopard cannot change its spots and neither can you. And I, the Lord your God, created you to do good and to be a light to the nations, but—and there it is—you have become so accustomed to doing evil that you’ve become obdurate. Unteachable.” You’ve got it in your pointy little heads that you know all the answers and that your ways are correct, so when I sent my Prophet, John the Baptist, into the world to show you the error of your ways, the prostitutes and sinners listened, but you did not; therefore, they will enter the Kingdom of Heaven ahead of you. You’ve gotten so stubborn—“stiff-necked” is the phrase in the Bible—that you will not change your mind, repent, and be obedient to the Lord. We can fall into the same mindset. 

There are times when we fall into a specific sin. At first, it is a one-off event, but if we repeat it, it can become habitual. Over time, we can get to a place where we no longer even recognize it as a sin, and when someone points it out to us, we become unteachable. It is not that we can’t change; it’s that we willfully choose not to change. Like the Israelites, even though we are created for good, we’ve become accustomed to the evil. Therefore, as the prostitutes and sinners changed their minds about their lives and followed God, so must we. Can you do this on your own? In some cases, yes, but in many… no. What is to be done?

A man had a son who was possessed by an unclean spirit. He brought his son to the disciples, but they could not heal him, so when Jesus arrived, the man asked him to heal his son. Jesus did. Afterward, the disciples came to Jesus privately and asked, “Why could we not cast it out?” And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.” (Mark 9:28-29) 

St. Paul writes in the Letter to the Hebrews, “Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. For we have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end. As it is said,
‘Today, if you hear his voice,
do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion.’” (Hebrews 3:12-15)

If you have fallen into sin, do not harden your heart and become unteachable; instead, allow God to show you the error so you might be cleansed. In the process of confessing, also pray, for God hears the prayers of the humble. The Psalmist writes,

“The Lord is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
He fulfills the desire of all who fear him;
he also hears their cry, and saves them.” (Psalm 145:18-19)

St. Paul teaches, “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (2 Corinthians 5:17) Humble yourself and become teachable, confess your sin, pray, and become that new creation in Christ. 

Let us pray:
Hear, Lord, the prayers we offer from humble hearts.
Have pity on us as we acknowledge our sins.
Lead us back to the way of holiness.
Protect us now and always from the wounds of sin.
May we ever keep safe in all its fullness
the gift your love once gave us
and your mercy now restores. Amen.

Sermon: Michael and All Angels

Nine angelic figures depicted on the west window of the Church of St Michael and All Angels in Somerton, which represent the nine ranks of angels. From left to right, first row: Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, and Dominions; second row: Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangels, and Angels. (License)

The Shepherd of Hermas is a second-century text, sometimes attributed to the brother of Pius, the Bishop of Rome. It is primarily an allegory and contains several visions. For many, it should have been included in the New Testament and was for a time, but eventually fell out of favor. The author’s understanding of Jesus and who He was is quite different from the teachings of the Council of Nicea. Even so, it almost made the cut.

Included in the fifth vision is an explanation of the role of angels. If you’ve ever seen the cartoon of an individual with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, then you get the gist of it. Still, as it is the Feast of St. Michael and All Angels, I wanted to share the text with you. The shepherd begins:

“There are two angels with a man—one of righteousness, and the other of iniquity.” 

And I said to him, “How, sir, am I to know the powers of these, for both angels dwell with me?” 

“Hear,” said he, and “understand them. The angel of righteousness is gentle and modest, meek and peaceful. When, therefore, he ascends into your heart, forthwith he talks to you of righteousness, purity, chastity, contentment, and of every righteous deed and glorious virtue. When all these ascend into your heart, know that the angel of righteousness is with you. 

“These are the deeds of the angel of righteousness. Trust him, then, and his works. Look now at the works of the angel of iniquity. First, he is wrathful, and bitter, and foolish, and his works are evil, and ruin the servants of God. When, then, he ascends into your heart, know him by his works.” 

And I said to him, “How, sir, shall I perceive him, I do not know.” 

“Hear and understand,” said he. “When anger comes upon you, or harshness, know that he is in you; and you will know this to be the case also, when you are attacked by a longing after many transactions, and the richest delicacies, and drunken revels, and divers luxuries, and things improper, and by a hankering after women, and by overreaching, and pride, and blustering, and by whatever is like to these. When these ascend into your heart, know that the angel of iniquity is in you. 

“Now that you know his works, depart from him, and in no respect trust him because his deeds are evil and unprofitable to the servants of God. 

“These, then, are the actions of both angels. Understand them, and trust the angel of righteousness; but depart from the angel of iniquity, because his instruction is bad in every deed. For though a man be most faithful, and the thought of this angel ascend into his heart, that man or woman must sin. 

“On the other hand, be a man or woman ever so bad, yet, if the works of the angel of righteousness ascend into his or her heart, he or she must do something good. You see, therefore, that it is good to follow the angel of righteousness but to bid farewell to the angel of iniquity.”

That may not be exactly our understanding of angels and devils, but perhaps it is a glimpse. The word “angel” is from the Greek angelos (ἄγγελος), which translates messenger. Jacob saw the angels of God ascending and descending the ladder, and Jesus told Nathanael that he would see the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man. I believe the angels they saw were fulfilling their duties, bringing messages to God’s people. I believe that work continues to this day, so the next time you think about a word or deed, ask yourself, “Is that one of God’s messengers come to bring me a word, or does it come from the other fella?”

Sermon: Proper 20 RCL A – “The Other’s Worth”

Photo by Tina Witherspoon on Unsplash

With his ferocious roar, large paws with sharp claws, and prideful mane, an egotistical lion roamed the jungle, asking the other animals who the king of the jungle was. “Who’s the king of the jungle?” the lion roared at a monkey. “Why you are, Mr. Lion,” said the monkey with fear in his voice. The lion continued and found a zebra. “Who’s the king of the jungle?” he snarled. “There is no doubt about it. You are Mr. Lion,” said the zebra.

Then, the lion came upon an elephant. Once again, he roared out the question, “Who’s the king of the jungle?” The elephant used his trunk and grabbed the lion by his tail. He spun him around over his head several times, dunked him in a mud hole, and slammed him into a large tree. Dazed and dirty, the lion said, “Well, just because you didn’t know the answer was no reason to get upset.”

When taken out of context, our Gospel reading today can speak about many things. There is the message of equality: everyone should be treated equally and fairly. I am confident that this is a message that will be preached in many churches today. It is not a wrong message, but it does not appear to be what Jesus was speaking about. 

There’s also the message of God’s economy. We remember the verse from Ezekiel, “Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, declares the Lord God, and not rather that he should turn from his way and live?” (18:23) Or there’s the one from Second Peter, “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” (3:9) That works very well because we see that regardless of someone coming to God late in life—when they go to work in the field—they receive the same reward as those who arrived early. We can even run with that, speaking about our sense of fairness and so on. That also is a good message, but it is not quite right in the context of what is going on around the parable.

In context, the parable is a warning to the disciples because they are acting like that silly prideful lion, walking around as though they were the king of the jungle.  

What is the context of the parable? It falls closely on the heels of the Mohammad Ali discussion about who is the greatest, which is closely followed by the disciples rebuking those who were bringing the children for Jesus to bless—a sign that they thought they were too important and too busy to be bothered with such trivialities. Following this is the encounter with the rich young man and his question to Jesus, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” (Matthew 19:16) We know that he goes away sad because he had much. Jesus told him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” (Matthew 19:21) When the young man walks away sorrowful, Peter says, “See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” (Matthew 19:27) Jesus responds, ‘Yes, Peter, you’ll all get a reward,’ but then Jesus adds, “But many who are first will be last, and the last first.” (Matthew 19:30) Immediately after saying that, Jesus tells the parable we heard today.

Yes, taken out of context, it can say many things, but in context, the parable is a response to Peter’s question and a further explanation of what is meant by “Many who are first will be last, and the last first.” It is as though Jesus were saying to Peter and the disciples, “Yes, you’ve been with me from the beginning, but that does not make you a privileged class.” Why would that be? Because what we receive from God is not some sort of payment. There is no time clock where you punch in and get time-and-a-half for overtime. That is not what we receive from God. What we do receive from God is grace, and God’s grace is not measured by our standards but by His, and His standard is Christ Jesus. As St. Paul tells us, “Grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift.” (Ephesians 4:7) Christ’s Gift is the same for us all. It is not earned in any way, shape or form. You do not receive more than anyone else.

Did the disciples get it? No. Very shortly after the telling of this parable, the mother of James and John came to Jesus—the two of them hiding behind her apron—and she said, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” (Matthew 20:21) It is one of those moments where you can see Jesus rubbing his forehead in frustration.

The parable of the workers was a message and warning to the disciples; therefore, it is also a message and a warning to us. In this life, so many believe the saying, “Whoever dies with the most toys wins,” but with God, we have all received more than we can ask for or imagine. We do the things we are called to, not because we are hoping to “earn” more, but because God has chosen us to do them.

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus speaks to the disciples about faithfulness. He says, “Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’? Will he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink’? Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.’” (Luke 17:7-10) In today’s parable, those who had worked all day but received the same pay as those who worked only an hour came to the landowner and complained, “These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” Instead of such complaints, Jesus is saying they should have received with grateful hearts what they received and responded, “We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.” 

That is a hard lesson to hear and understand in our competitive and reward-driven society. Dick Weiss, a former writer and editor for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, said, “A few years ago, my former newspaper did a study in which interviewers asked readers who or what was most important to them. Their answer was, in some ways, surprising. Many did not say their families, children, or God. Instead, their answer was: ‘Me.’” With God, you are worth the life of His Son, Jesus. That is not in question, but what we must remember is… so is everyone else. In the eyes of God, we are of equal worth, and we have been bought with a price—the Blood of Jesus. If that is the case, then how are we to act?

Have I ever told you that I’m a Trekky? I’ve been watching Star Trek since I was a kid and loving every episode and movie. One of the more recent movies, Into the Darkness, came out in 2009. In this one, Mr. Spock and Lieutenant Uhura (you know who these people are!) have a romantic thing. At one point, there is a devastating event, and Mr.—never show any emotions—Spock becomes very emotional and distressed. Seeing this and wanting to comfort the one she loves, Lieutenant Uhura goes to Spock, kisses him softly, and asks, “What do you need?” Mr. Spock pauses, then responds, “I need everyone to continue performing admirably.”

Jesus said, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21) Jesus said, ‘In your work for God, do not live like you are working for a coin. Instead, work with the knowledge that you have already received the greatest gift imaginable.” Don’t act like some prideful lion. You may get slapped around by the elephant. Don’t stop to worry about this person or that, but admirably, continue doing the work you have been chosen to perform so that, in the end, all may receive the greatest gift of all.

Let us pray: Heavenly Father, you have called us all to holiness, which means sharing in your divine life. Fill us with a sense of our true dignity as those called to be your daughters and sons in the world and your ambassadors of justice, love, and peace. Give us the desire to be worthy of this great calling and the courage to live up to it. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Sermon: John Coleridge Patteson

British (English) School; John Coleridge Patteson (1827-1871), Bishop of Melanesia; Lambeth Palace; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/john-coleridge-patteson-18271871-bishop-of-melanesia-87077

At the age of fourteen, John Patteson knew he was going to be a priest.  At the age of twenty-seven, he was.  He grew up in England and, in 1855, would go to serve in Melanesia, a chain of some 10,000 islands off the northeast coast of Australia.  His Bishop told him his work would include “the evangelization of no less than 20 million.”  Just to make it interesting, some of those 20 million were headhunters and cannibals and had the custom of strangling a woman if her husband died.  In addition, slave traders roamed the seas, practicing “blackbirding” – capturing the natives and forcing them into slavery on the farms of the Europeans.  Patteson was not deterred.

The goal of the mission was to travel to the islands and convince the tribes to allow one or two of the younger boys to leave the island for ten months to a year so that they could be trained in the teachings of Christianity, then take them back to their islands where they would evangelize the rest of the community. 

Patteson was successful in this work, gaining the respect of the natives and fellow workers, which led to him being elected as the Bishop of Melanesia.  The Bishop of New Zealand wrote, “Anything more conscientious and painstaking cannot be conceived than the way Patteson has steadily directed his talent, every hour and every minute of his life, to the one work he has set before him.  However small or uncongenial or drum-drudgery-like his occupation, however hard or dangerous or difficult, it seems to be always met in the same calm.”  

This calm and the respect of the natives would eventually lead to his death.  The blackbirders learned that the people would come out to greet Patteson, so when they anchored off the coast of one of the islands, they would send messengers to tell the islanders that Patteson was on board and wanted to see them.  The natives would go out, only to be taken captive.  This led to Patteson’s work becoming all the more dangerous, and he even wrote to his sister, telling her that he feared it would eventually get him killed.  It did.

On September 20, 1871, he visited the island of Nukápu.  He went ashore with a few others but was immediately taken captive and martyred.  Unfortunately, it was a mistake.  Earlier that day, the blackbirders had raided the island and murdered five community members.  They thought that Patteson and others were those same blackbirders returning.

Learning of his death, Max Muller, a professor at Oxford and friend of Patteson, wrote, “To have known such man is one of life’s greatest blessings… In the distant future, depend upon it, the name of Patteson will live in every cottage, in every school, and every church in Melanesia—not the name of a fabulous saint or martyr, but as the never-to-be-forgotten name of a good, a brave, a God-fearing and God-loving man.”

Was his work and the work of others throughout the region successful?  Melanesia is one of the most Christian nations in the world, with over 91% of the population believers.  I call that successful.  In addition, his death led Queen Victoria to push for the end of all blackbirding.

What led Patteson, at the age of fourteen, to want to become a priest?  He heard a sermon while living in Windsor.  That evening, he wrote to his mother: “It was beautiful when he talked of his going out to found a church, and then to die, neglected and forgotten: all the people burst out crying.”  Jesus said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” 

John Coleridge Patteson truly gave and lost his life for the sake of the Gospel, so Jesus said to him on this day in 1871, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

Sermon: Heritage Sunday / Feast of St. Matthew

Photo by Kevin Jackson on Unsplash

An Arab chief tells the story of a spy who was captured and sentenced to death by a general in the Persian army. This general had the strange custom of giving condemned criminals a choice between the firing squad and the big black door. As the moment for execution drew near, the spy was brought to the Persian general, who asked, “What will it be: the firing squad or the big black door?” The spy hesitated for a long time. It was a difficult decision. He chose the firing squad. Moments later, shots rang out, confirming his execution. The general turned to his aide and said, “They always prefer the known way to the unknown. It is characteristic of people to be afraid of the unknown. Yet, we gave him a choice.” The aide said, “What lies beyond the big black door?” “Freedom,” replied the general.

Nicholas Winton’s parents immigrated from Germany to London in 1907, and Nicholas was born in 1909. He attended Stowe School, a boarding school, and then studied banking in France and Germany. He would then go on to become a stockbroker in London. It’s not a bad life if you can live it, but rather ordinary. However, what Nicholas did in his spare time made him extraordinary.

In 1938, the Nazis began their occupation of Czechoslovakia and, which included setting up camps filled with Jews and political prisoners. Learning of this, a friend came to Nicholas and asked if he could help save some. Nicholas was very eager because although he was Christian in name and practice, he was Jewish by blood. Hoping to integrate more smoothly into society, his parents, before Nicholas’ birth, had changed their name from Wertheim to Winton and converted to Christianity.

At the first opportunity, Nicholas traveled to Prague to investigate ways of getting at-risk individuals out. In the process, it was learned that many were working to get the adults out. Still, few were working with the children, so Nicholas and those with him established offices in Prague and London; then, they began rescuing the children by smuggling them out of Czechoslovakia and into England and finding them homes and other resources. Stockbroker by day, superhero by night. After the war, Nicholas took his notes and all and, put them in a box and told no one, saying that what he did was nothing more than a “wartime gesture.” His story would have gone untold if his wife hadn’t stumbled across that box.

That’s Life! was a British TV show that started in 1973 and ran for twenty-one years. The show, with its studio audience, reported on various stories of interest. One episode in 1988 featured Nicholas Winton, who was in the studio audience. He sat and listened to the reporters tell of his “wartime gesture.” When the reporters were done, the camera panned to Nicholas and the woman sitting next to him. Her name was Vera Gissing. The host of the show, Esther Rantzen, said to Vera, “I should tell you that you are actually sitting next to Nicholas Winton.” Nicholas met one of the children he saved. Then the host said, “May I ask, is there anyone in our audience tonight who owes their life to Nicholas Winton? If so, could you stand up, please?” Some twenty to thirty stood. All told, through his efforts, 669 children were saved. They are known as Nicky’s Children

Sir Nicholas Winton died in 2015. He was 106.

We all share common experiences. The one I’m thinking of occurs when you find yourself in a room with several people, with all sorts of conversations taking place and many topics being covered, but your mind is off in its own little world. You might even imagine yourself in a different place with a new life. I love what I do, but even I can wonder, “What if?” But what if your life was just OK? Not bad, only average. So you imagine wanting more—not more stuff, but to be needed. To want to make a difference in the world around you. I’ve no way of knowing, but I can imagine Matthew in just such a place and mindset. 

Matthew, not alone, sitting in the tax booth. He’s got some other workers there with him; maybe a friend or two is hanging around, passing some gossip, other tax collectors also, shooting the breeze and conspiring on more ways to take advantage of the taxpayers. All these people around and all these conversations, yet Matthew, in his mind, is a long way off, fantasizing about a life that might be.

“I sit here and deal with taxes all day. It’s good work. Pays the bills, and the family has what they need, but isn’t there more to life? I would like for my life to be more. I would like for my life to have value. To mean something.” Then, looking up from his thoughts, Matthew says to himself, “Now, who is this fella?”

That fella walks up to the tax booth, points at Matthew, and says, “Follow me.” In that instant, Matthew somehow knew that this man, this Jesus, was the fulfillment his life sought—the very life he had been fantasizing about. He didn’t know what it would be like, but he knew, so he got up, and he followed.

“Matthew? Matthew!” His friends called after him. “Where are you going? You can’t just walk away! You’ve got responsibilities here.” But Matthew keeps walking.

Later that day, after spending time with Jesus, Matthew returns to the tax booth. His friends begin to rib him, “Finally came to your senses, did you? You’re lucky we’re the ones that were here to keep an eye on your cash. Anybody else would have run off with it.” But instead of thanking them, Matthew waves off the money and says, “Hey, would you all like to come to dinner tonight? My treat, my place. I’ve got somebody I would like for you to meet.” Later that night, when they are all gathered at Matthew’s, listening to Jesus, Matthew notices some who had been with Jesus earlier in the day, and they are visiting with the religious leaders. He overhears a snippet of the conversation, as one of the Pharisees said to those other followers, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” Matthew quickly looks over to see if his guest, Jesus, has overheard this rudeness. He had, but instead of getting angry, Jesus leaned back from the table and said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.” Matthew then smiles as Jesus returns to visit with the other tax collectors and sinners, the religious leaders quickly forgotten.

Nicholas Winton was sitting in his stock broker’s office when Jesus said, “Follow me. Help me save these Czechoslovakian children.” Matthew was sitting in the tax collector booth when Jesus said, “Follow me and help me bring salvation to these children of God.” 

The general turned to his aide and said, “They always prefer the known way to the unknown. It is characteristic of people to be afraid of the unknown. Yet, we gave him a choice.” The aide said, “What lies beyond the big black door?” “Freedom,” replied the general.

Both Matthew and Nicholas had the option of choosing. They could have kept it safe and stuck with what they knew. Probably nobody would have blamed them. They were secure in their positions and had all they needed. Yet, if you will, they chose the big black door. They knew the basic trajectory of their lives, but they chose—not the unknown—they chose Jesus, and Jesus gave them freedom. 

St. Paul wrote to the Galatians, “You were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Galatians 15:13-14)

If our Patron Saint, Matthew, were standing here today, I believe firmly he would say, “Choose the big black door. Above everything you think you know, choose Jesus. It may appear to be the unknown, but it is the life you were created for, the life you sit around fantasizing about, and in living it, you are given freedom. Use this freedom that is a gift from God to love others and love yourself.”

Personally, I can assure you that there is no way of knowing the path that Jesus will lead you down, but wherever it leads, you will never want to be anywhere different. Choose the big black door.

Let us pray: St. Matthew, you became one of Jesus’ closest friends and followers. You continued on the path of holy service to God throughout the rest of your life. Pray for us that we may always be ready and willing to follow Christ wherever He calls us. Pray that we may seek to serve God wholeheartedly each day of our lives. We pray in Jesus’ Name. Amen

Sermon: Proper 18 RCL A – “Motivation?”


A young youth pastor began his work in a very conservative church with Scandinavian roots. The young man was rather forward-looking and creative, but his church… not so much. One day, the youth pastor decided to show the youth group a missionary film—a simple, safe, black-and-white, religious-oriented movie. The film projector hadn’t been off an hour before a group of the leaders in the church called him in and asked him about what he had done. They asked, “Did you show the young people a film?” In all honesty, he responded, “Well, yeah, I did.” “We don’t like that,” they replied. Without trying to be argumentative, the youth worker reasoned, “Well, I remember that at the last missionary conference, our church showed slides…”

One of the church officers put his hand up, signaling him to cease talking. Then, he emphatically explained the young man’s error in these words: “If it’s still, fine. If it moves, sin!” You can show slides, but when they start movin’, you’re gettin’ into sin.

All y’all need to stop fidgeting out there. You’re sinnin’!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and it would seem that, in many cases, so is sin.

A story comes to us of Blessed Alcuin of York. (Alcuin was a preserver of great Christian texts, which is why we still have the Collect of Purity, which we say at the beginning of each Mass: “Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires are known, and from you no secrets are hid….”) The story says that when he was eleven, he woke in the middle of the night being attacked by vicious demons. Why? He believed he was not as zealous as he should be and had a taste for classical literature. In his fear, he cried out, “O Lord Jesus, if thou wilt deliver me from [these demons’] bloody hands, and afterward [if] I am negligent of the vigils of the Church and of the service of lauds, and continue to love Virgil more than the melody of the Psalms, then may I undergo such correction…” (Source)

So, movin’ is sinnin’, and so is Virgil. The list goes on. However, regardless of what is and what isn’t, the Church is responsible for being a guide. Not to act as judge and jury but as counselor and reconciler. This is not only the role of the Church; it is also true for us all. If we sin, we are called to be reconciled to one another long before the Church gets involved.  Unfortunately, we as individuals are about as good at it as the Church has been.

According to our Gospel reading today, there is a correct way for Christian people to go about correcting one another, but, like the Church, we take a more antagonistic and confrontational approach. Speaking of the early days, one of the Desert Fathers said, “In the beginning, when we got together, we used to talk about something, and it was good for our souls, and we went up and up, and ascended even to heaven. But now we get together and spend our time in criticizing everything, and we drag one another down into the abyss.” Say it ain’t so? Yet, if we seek to be reconciled to one another properly, we can often make amends, but on occasion, it needs to be taken to the next level. 

According to the Gospel, the next step is to bring in two or three others. Think of it in terms of arbitration or mediation. You’re not looking to go out and find people who will “be on your side” so that you can gang up on the other person, but instead, you are looking for those who might help facilitate a conversation, bringing about peace. If this fails, the next step is to bring it to the Church. Why bring it to the Church? Simple. The Church always gets it right. 

You disagree? Jesus said, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” We are more than three, we are Christians, and we are the Church, so naturally, Jesus is with us and unquestioningly signs off on everything we decide.

The date: November 27, 1095. Place: Clermont, France. An excerpt from the speech: “Under Jesus Christ, our Leader, may you struggle for your Jerusalem, in Christian battle line, [that] most invincible line, even more successfully than did the sons of Jacob of old—struggle, that you may assail and drive out the Turks, more execrable than the Jebusites, who are in this land, and may you deem it a beautiful thing to die for Christ in that city in which he died for us.” The author of that speech was Pope Urban II. It was the call to the first of the eight major crusades, and it is estimated that five million individuals died during them. Was the Pope alone in his call to fight? No. Who agreed with him? Bernard of Clairvaux, Thomas Aquinas, Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, to name a few. Certainly more than two or three. 

Do you think that Jesus was in the midst of this? Do you think that was something Jesus wanted His most Sacred Name attached to? When two or three come together, do we always get it right? 

Today, we look at these events and say they were definitely wrong, but if you ask the individuals involved, they would tell you they were spot on. They would say to you that they had heard the voice of God, had come to an agreement in the name of God—Deus vult!—were definitely right, and Jesus was with them.

So, if such colossal errors can be made, how can we know we are on the right path? How can we know that Jesus is truly with us? Perhaps this is heresy, but given our track record, I’m not at all convinced that we can. However, I do believe that we can move in the right direction. Return to the first step, “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.” That is a good and holy way to act, but one of the first things you must ask yourself before confronting that person is, “What is my motivation? Why do I feel the need to go to that person?”

Why ask that? So often, our motivation is not as pure as we would like to think. “They made me feel bad, so I’m going to make them feel guilty. I want to hurt them like they hurt me. I want them to know they didn’t get away with anything. Or worse, I’m going to tell them so that I can do what the Bible said so that I can then go out and tell everyone!” Ever done that? No? Never? See me for confession after the service cause you know you just lied.

If someone sins against you, before you go to them and attempt to be reconciled to them, ask yourself, “What is motivating me to go? Am I seeking to fulfill some personal agenda, or to change them according to my way of seeing things? Am I hoping to force them to apologize, or do I truly want to be reconciled to them?” You see, reconciliation is partially about right and wrong, but primarily and more importantly, it is about restoring a broken relationship, so until you can determine what is motivating you, you will not be acting according to the teachings of Jesus.

Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” However, before we begin, we must first determine what motivates us. If that motivation is not based on reconciliation and relationship, then before we can attempt to bind and loose others, we must first bind our own sinful nature and let loose the love of God within us.

When someone has sinned against you, for there to be forgiveness and reconciliation, you—not the sinner—will have to do the hard work. When you begin that work, check your motivation so that the sin that was committed against you does not cause you to sin in response. As Jesus taught, be “gentle and humble of heart” (Matthew 11:29) and allow the Spirit of God to work through you.

There are times when we and the Church must act with all authority upon those who sin and are unrepentant, but we must first exhaust all other options given to us by Christ.

Let us pray:
Heavenly Father,
through the obedience of Jesus,
Who offered His Life in the service of all;
help us with Your Kindness.
Make us strong through the Eucharist.
May we put into action the saving Mystery
we celebrate in the Mass.
Protect us with Your Love
and prepare us for eternal happiness.
Amen.

Sermon: Teresa of Calcutta


A young woman prays, Jesus, my own Jesus – I am only Thine – I am so stupid – I do not know what to say but do with me whatever You wish – as You wish – as long as you wish. [But] why can’t I be a perfect Loreto Nun – here – why can’t I be like everybody else?  Jesus responds, I want Indian Nuns, Missionaries of Charity, who would be my fire of love amongst the poor, the sick, the dying and the little children … You are, I know, the most incapable person – weak and sinful but just because you are that – I want to use you for My glory.  Will you refuse?

Who was the young woman?  She was born Agnes Gonxha Bojaxhiu, but she is now known as the Saint of Calcutta – Mother Teresa.  That prayer dialogue she told to her superior in 1947.  In 1948, she was permitted to begin her ministry in India.  She started alone, a small woman in her white and blue habit.  When she died in 1997, the order she founded, the Missionaries of Charity, consisted of 610 missions in 123 countries, including the US.  In 1979, she won the Nobel Peace Prize for her humanitarian work.  She donated the $192,000 cash prize to the poor of India.  Let’s face it: when we get to heaven and stand in line waiting to get through the pearly gates, she really is the one we do not want to find ourselves behind.

Another prayer from her: “Lord, my God, who am I that You should forsake me? … Where is my Faith – even deep down right in there is nothing, but emptiness and darkness … I am told God loves me – and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul.  Heaven means nothing.” (Source, p.186)  Those sound like the words of someone who has lost their faith and left the church.  Someone who no longer believes in God, yet those are also the words of Mother Teresa.

God called her to serve the poor in India, but she reports feeling spiritually dry for the fifty years that followed.  Empty.  She later would find comfort in the words that Jesus spoke from the Cross, “My God, My God.  Why have you forsaken me?”  She came to understand that in His distance, God was keeping her humble so that she would not take pride in her successes, but that still did not make it any less painful.

When I read these revelations of Mother Teresa’s life in one of her biographies, Come Be My Light, I couldn’t help but think of a passage from the Song of Solomon: “My lover tried to unlatch the door, and my heart thrilled within me.  I jumped up to open the door for my love, and my hands dripped with perfume.  My fingers dripped with lovely myrrh as I pulled back the bolt.  I opened to my lover, but He was gone!  My heart sank. I searched for Him but could not find Him anywhere.  I called to Him, but there was no reply.”

The young woman knew the thrill and beauty of her lover, but now He was gone and lost to her.  The same was true for Mother Teresa; she knew the love of Jesus deep within her heart.  She had spoken to Him and had visions of Him, but then He was nowhere to be found. 

We all experience these dry, empty seasons when God seems to have completely turned away and forgotten us.  I don’t know how well I would do if I had to endure fifty years of it, but during those times, the most important thing we can do is follow the example that Mother Teresa set: to remain faithful to what God originally called you to.  Do not see these dry spells as God abandoning you, but see them as God trusting you and the Spirit He has placed in your soul.  He has faith in you to persevere in good times and… not so good times.  When all else fails, be obedient as Jesus was — “obedient unto death, even to death on a cross.”

Sermon: Proper 17 RCL A – “You are Here”

Photo by Fallon Michael on Unsplash

Mr. Moore was teaching map reading in his earth sciences class at Delacroix High School. After explaining latitude, longitude, degrees, and minutes, the teacher asked, “Suppose I asked you to meet me for lunch at 23 degrees, 4 minutes north latitude and 45 degrees, 15 minutes east longitude…?”

After a moment of silence, T Boudreaux volunteered, “I suppose you’d be eating alone.”

T Boudreaux is one of those who would look at a wayfaring map with a “You are here” arrow and ask, “How do it know?”

“Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering… be killed, and on the third day be raised.” Peter likely heard that last bit but did not understand it, so he said to Jesus, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

How easy it would be to criticize Peter. “Who are you to question God? Why are you being so thick about all this? You have failed again.” Read the right way; we can hear all those things in Jesus’ voice, but that ‘voice’ we can imagine does not reflect the character of Jesus we know. 

Jesus, who knew the hearts and minds of so many, would also have known the heart of Peter. He would know that Peter was saying these things because Peter was distraught at the thought of losing his Lord. The one who said, “Love one another,” would not lash out in such a manner we can imagine. If anything, I think Jesus’ voice was one of love and compassion but also firm. He didn’t want Peter, or any of the others, deceiving themselves at this point. What was coming was going to happen. No question. 

If Jesus had shown Peter a map, there would be a single road. A road that led to Jerusalem and onto Golgotha—the hill on which Jesus was crucified. There would be one of those arrows that said, “You are here,” implying that you are going there, and there’s no changing it. 

Jesus was saying to Peter, ‘I am exactly where I am supposed to be. This cannot be changed. I must be obedient to the Father and not to my emotions or desires.’ Could Jesus have fought it? Could he have turned and forged a new road, a new direction for His life? Yes. Jesus had as much free will as you and I. Did Jesus have every reason to complain bitterly? To pitch a fit about how unfair His life was? To take out His anger and frustrations on those around Him? Absolutely, He could have. ‘This is so unfair! I deserve better than this! I am entitled!’ Jesus could have done and said whatever he liked, but He chose to submit to the will of the Father and be obedient. 

With that in mind, Jesus said to Peter and the other disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Jesus said, ‘You are here—at this place and at this time. This is—right now—your life. Take up your cross. You also, be obedient and take up this life the Father has given you, and follow Me.’ You are here regardless of the circumstances—good, bad, or indifferent, so submit and be obedient to the will of the Father. That is a message for us as well.

As we seek to follow the will of God, our path will not be as clear as the one that Jesus was following. There are days if we know the next step, we are doing good, but what doesn’t change is the fact that at this very moment, “You are here.” Where you are is not random. In addition, you may not be happy with where you are, but you are not outside of God’s will for your life. Trust me. You don’t have that kind of power.

The Psalmist writes,
O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether….
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them. (Psalm 139:1-4, 16b)

If you believe those words, then you believe that God knew your every step, every choice, every breath before you were even created. Therefore, if “You are here,” God ordained that you be here. You are here. This is your life; therefore, the call on your life—at this very moment—is to take up your cross and follow Jesus. That is easy to say, yet amid life’s circumstances, we can sometimes experience the same emotions as Peter and say, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen! This is unfair! I deserve more! I am entitled to more!” There can be weeping and gnashing of teeth. We can strike out in anger and frustration at others and ourselves, but God persists, “You are here.” If we persist in our rantings to God, I suppose He might eventually come back on us the same way He did Job,

“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?
Dress for action like a man;
I will question you, and you make it known to me.
“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding.” (Job 38:2-4)

God said to Job, ‘You, sir, are out of order. It is not your place to question why certain things happen.’

So, consider this: if God ordains that you be here—with the circumstances good, bad, or indifferent—could it be that “You are here,” and “here” is exactly where you are supposed to be, just as Jesus was exactly where He was supposed to be? Is that fatalistic? No. It’s just the opposite. If we are where we are supposed to be, then God is here with us. Instead of being frustrated and angry, we should be rejoicing that we are not alone. It doesn’t mean life won’t be difficult and we are supposed to do the happy dance for everything that comes our way, but it does mean we can calm our souls and be at peace, taking up our cross and following Jesus. But what about those times when it all becomes too much? Hans Urs von Balthasar was a Roman Catholic theologian. In one of his books, he was writing specifically for priests, but what he wrote applies to all. “The weight of pastoral Office becomes heavier than any man even in official position can bear. Therefore it is no longer the man who bears the cross, but the cross which bears the man.” (Source, p.124) The weight of our life, our cross, can become too much to bear, so in those circumstances, it is no longer us that carry our cross; the cross—Jesus, carries us.

Rainer Maria Rilke (d.1926) was an Austrian poet. Some of his poems were mystical and spoke of his search for understanding God. His poem, Extinguish My Eyes, speaks to this idea of encountering God, even in loss.

Extinguish my eyes, I still can see you,
Close my ears, I can hear your footsteps fall,
And without feet I still can follow you,
And without voice I still can to you call.
Break off my arms, and I can embrace you,
Enfold you with my heart as with a hand.
Hold my heart, my brain will take fire of you
As flax ignites from a lit fire-brand—
And flame will sweep in a swift rushing flood
Through all the singing currents of my blood.

Regardless of our circumstances or our state—without eyes, ears, feet, and all—we can still grasp Christ and be grasped by Him. Still burn with the joy of our cross, the life we have been blessed with.

My friend Thomas à Kempis understood the joy of the cross that Christ offers us, so he wrote, “Why, then, do you fear to take up the cross when through it you can win a kingdom? In the cross is salvation, in the cross is life, in the cross is protection from enemies, in the cross is infusion of heavenly sweetness, in the cross is strength of mind, in the cross is joy of spirit, in the cross is highest virtue, in the cross is perfect holiness. There is no salvation of soul nor hope of everlasting life but in the cross.” (Source: TAK IOC Bk 2, Ch 12)

You are here. With joy and peace, take up your cross and follow Jesus.

Let us pray:
Eternal Father,
May we see Your Son, Jesus, clearly
Pouring out love
Pouring out mercy
Pouring out peace
May we kneel before him in humble adoration
May we take up our cross and follow
And walk with Christ into the ways of life.
Amen.

Sermon: Margaret Ward, Margaret Clitherow, and Anne Line


I have shared a quote from Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsey with you in the past: “The Church is not the society of those labeled virtuous.  It is the mixed community of sinners called to be saints.” Unfortunately, the Church can sometimes be more sinner than saint.

The Reformation in the English Church was more political before it was theological, and the issues between the monarch and the Pope were going on long before Henry VIII, but it very much came to a head during Henry’s reign. 

The theological issues had to do with Luther and the protestant message, but the political had to do with who gets to be boss. Would it be the monarch or some guy in a pointy had a thousand miles away? The issue would not resolve itself for years to come, so it was still at play when Elizabeth I ascended the throne in 1558. 

There was no love lost between Rome and Queen Elizabeth I, and finally, in 1570, Elizabeth was excommunicated by Pope Pius V. I don’t think it bothered Elizabeth; however, what did bother her was the fact that the Pope said that Roman Catholics living in England no longer had to be obedient to her. What exacerbated the problem was that Mary, Queen of Scots, was in Scotland, and she was a Catholic stalwart and beacon to all those disgruntled Catholics who were no longer required to be obedient. Therefore, Elizabeth feared Mary might raise an army and come against her. We know that Elizabeth would eventually sign Mary’s death warrant, but in the meantime, she enacted several measures attempting to reign in the Catholics. 

The first measure was the 1581 Act of Persuasion against the recusants. (A recusant is one who is disobedient.) The act stated that if you were disobedient to the monarch, you would face steep fines (this got the attention of the rich) and imprisonment. However, it did not affect the changes Elizabeth had hoped for, so in 1585, she signed the Act against Priest.

This act stated that any priest ordained abroad since 1559 was automatically deemed a traitor and given forty days to leave the country or face arrest and execution. Furthermore, anyone attempting to harbor a Roman priest was also to be arrested and executed. This is where the three women we remember today enter: Margaret Ward, Margaret Clitherow, and Anne Line.

All three of these women were martyrs, and Margaret Clitherow was the first. Her home was searched, and a young boy who was afraid revealed the priest hole (where priests were hidden). Although pregnant with her fourth child, she was executed. 

Next was Margaret Ward. She helped a priest escape prison by smuggling in small pieces of rope, which he wove together and made a proper rope. The priest managed to escape, but Ward’s actions were discovered. Before her execution, she rejoiced, for, as she said, “Having delivered an innocent lamb from the hands of those bloody wolves.”

Finally, a raid on Anne Line’s home resulted in her arrest for the same crime as the others. The priest she was harboring also managed to escape (it bothers me a bit to think of them escaping while these women were dying). She told her accusers she was only grieved because she “could not receive a thousand more” priests to save.

St. Paul tells us in his letter to the Romans, “For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die.” (Romans 5:7) Jesus tells us, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)

Were the priests that were being saved, good people? I don’t know—not my department—but I do know that these three ladies showed the “greater love” that Jesus spoke of. We may never be called on to give our lives in such a way, but we are all called to demonstrate “greater love” to the world by making sacrifices so that the word of God may be proclaimed.