St. Blogory's: the internet café at St. Gregory's Episcopal Church, Deerfield, IL

Always a Gamble!

+ In the Love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

What happened last Thursday in the Church Calendar?

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[the Ascension]

So please turn in your pew Bibles to the beginning of the Acts of the Apostles.

“In the first book, Theophilus,”―

What’s the “first book”?

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[The Gospel of Luke; Luke wrote two volumes, the first his Gospel, and the second The Acts of the Apostles]―

“In the first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning until the day when he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen. After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father.’”―

What is “the promise of the Father?”

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[The Holy Spirit]

“‘This,’ [Jesus] said, ‘is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.’ So when they had come together, they asked him, ‘Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?’ He replied, ‘It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’ When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.”

And that’s the Ascension.

Now just a little further on, you’ll see where this morning’s first reading (Acts 1:15-17, 21-26) begins, but please close your pew Bibles right now  and go to the reading in your bulletin because it’s a sanitized version and I don’t want you to get sidetracked by the nasty bits. You can read the rest of the passage sometime later today!

“In those days Peter stood up among the believers (together the crowd numbered about one hundred twenty persons). . . .”

Why 120 persons?

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[no responses]

What about the number 12?

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[The 12 tribes of Israel. The reason Jesus chose 12 disciples― or apostles as Luke likes to call them― is because he wanted to create a New Israel]

What about the number 10?

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[According to ancient Jewish practice, there must be a quorum― or minyan― of ten Jewish males in order to hold a public prayer service]

120 is the number of men required to establish a Jewish community large enough to have its own Sanhedrin or Council and make its own decisions for their life together.

“. . . and [Peter] said, ‘Friends, the scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit through David foretold concerning Judas, who became a guide for those who arrested Jesus― for he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.’”

While the believers wait for “the promise of the Father” they have work to do, because now there are only eleven apostles, and they need to get the number back up to twelve.

“So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us― one of these must become a witness with us to his resurrection.’ So they proposed two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also known as Justus, and Matthias. Then they prayed and said, ‘Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.’ And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles.”

This is a passage about community discernment, about how the church makes decisions, and it has three elements:

Reflection on Scripture― “the scripture had to be fulfilled”;

Relationship with Jesus― “during the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us”; and

Reliance on Prayer― “Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us. . . .”

Let me say a word about each of these elements of community discernment, beginning with Reflection on Scripture.

We can tell from this passage how deeply Judas’ betrayal affected the early church. By reflecting on Scripture, Peter found comfort when he understood Judas’ betrayal as the fulfillment of Scripture.

Reflecting on Scripture can comfort us in other ways, too, by showing us that others have experienced what we’re experiencing, and that we’re not alone.

Have you ever been betrayed?

Please turn in your Book of Common Prayer to Psalm 41:9:

“Even my best friend, whom I trusted, who broke bread with me, * has lifted up his heel and turned against me.”

Think of Jesus at the Last Supper, “on the night in which he was betrayed,” breaking bread with Judas; or others with whom you have broken bread at Communion.

Or reflect on Psalm 55:13-15:

“For had it been an adversary who taunted me, then I could have borne it; * or had it been an enemy who vaunted himself against me, then I could have hidden from him.

But it was you, a man after my own heart, * my companion, my own familiar friend.

We took sweet counsel together, * and walked with the throng in the house of God” (pp. 642 and 661, respectively).

Reflection on Scripture is important, but Relationship with Jesus is primary.

On one occasion in John’s Gospel, Jesus heals a man who has been paralyzed for many years. But when the Jewish authorities learn that Jesus healed him on the Sabbath, they accuse Jesus of breaking the scriptures.

But Jesus tells them, “You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that testify on my behalf. Yet you refuse to come to me to have life” (John 5:39-40).

One of the surest ways to keep our relationship with Jesus alive and healthy is by prayer, and Reliance on Prayer is modeled for us in this passage of Scripture, and prayer can be as simple and powerful as this: “Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us. . . .”

And what’s truly wonderful is that this Reliance on Prayer is not only reliance on our own prayer, for as we see in this morning’s Gospel (John 17:6-19), we can also rely on Jesus’ prayer for us:

“Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one as we are one and so that they may have my joy in themselves. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. Sanctify them in the truth. As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sakes I sanctify myself, so that they also may be sanctified in truth.”

This morning’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles is a model for how a church, any church, St. Gregory’s Church, may discern― discover― decide for its life together as a community by Reflection on Scripture, Relationship with Jesus, and Reliance on Prayer― our prayer and Jesus’ Prayer.

But specifically this passage is about discerning a new leader for the community. And after reflecting on Scripture, relating with Jesus, and relying on prayer, they cast lots, and the lot fell on Matthias.

It might interest you to know that the Greek word for “lot” is “klēros, from which we get the word “clergy.”

Which just goes to show that even after reflecting on Scripture, relating with Jesus, and relying on prayer, although it may be the priest’s lot in life, for the congregation it’s always a gamble!

Skeptical of My Skepticism, Scripturally Speaking

+ In the Love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Please turn in your pew Bibles to this morning’s Gospel, Luke chapter 24, verse 36:

“While they were talking about this. . . .” Now, the “this” to which Luke is referring is the story that immediately precedes this morning’s Gospel. It’s the story about two disciples on the road to Emmaus. While they’re walking, a stranger joins them. In the course of their conversation, this stranger― who is in fact the risen Jesus― has something to tell them. Please go to verse 25:

“Then [Jesus] said to them, ‘Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?’ Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.”

Now skip down to verse 30: “When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.”

(This verse was the inspiration for this morning’s Collect: “O God, whose blessed Son made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread: Open the eyes of our faith, that we may behold him in all his redeeming work; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.”)

And then the disciples say to each other (v. 32): “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?”

Now go to verse 45 in this morning’s Gospel: “Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them, ‘Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”

As Luke is bringing his Gospel to its conclusion, he wants us to know two things― first, how important it is for us to understand the Scriptures; and second, that we can understand the Scriptures only when Jesus himself opens our minds to understand them.

In our Quarterly Meeting this morning we looked at the financial strategy for this year and the next that all of us on the Vestry have been working on these past few months.

While the Vestry has been working on our financial strategy, our Episcopal Spiritual Life Renewal [EASEL-R] Workshop Team has been working on our spiritual strategy. We’ve been guided by this book: Follow Me (and there are plenty of copies in the library if you’d like to get a head start on what’s coming up).

This book identifies a continuum of four spiritual segments which can be found in any church: those who are Exploring Christ, those who are Growing in Christ, those who are Close to Christ, and those who are Christ-Centered.

So part of our spiritual strategy will be help people move from Exploring Christ to Growing in Christ, from Growing in Christ to being Close to Christ, and from being Close to Christ to being Christ-Centered.

And the research from 200 churches and the 80,000 people who took the Spiritual Life Survey― as we did in late January and early February― indicates that “The Bible is the Most Powerful Catalyst for Spiritual Growth”:

“Everywhere we turned the data revealed the same truth: spending time in the Bible is hands down the highest impact personal spiritual practice. More specifically, “I reflect on the meaning of Scripture in my life” is the spiritual practice that is most predictive of growth for all three movements [from Exploring Christ to Growing in Christ, Growing in Christ to being Close to Christ, and Close to Christ to being Christ-Centered].”

The book goes on to make this important point:

“There’s great significance in the word reflection. Reflecting on Scripture implies a contemplative process, one of thoughtful and careful deliberation. This practice of “reflecting on the meaning of Scripture in my life” is about using God’s Word as a mirror that reflects back the truth of Scripture on the actions, decisions and events of one’s daily life. This is not about skimming through a Bible passage or devotional in a mechanical way. This is a powerful experience of personal meditation that catalyzes spiritual growth, starting at the very beginning of the spiritual journey.”

This morning I want to tell you about the beginning of my spiritual journey.

I have occasionally mentioned Father Hanner, my parish priest when I was growing up. By the time I finished high school, I figured I would go to college, go to seminary, become a priest, and live happily ever after. But by the end of my freshman year in college, my faith was gone.

So one of the subjects I turned to was psychology, and particularly non-verbal communication. And one of the most important means of non-verbal communication is eye contact.

For example, if I’m having a conversation with someone, and I need to gather my thoughts and don’t want to be interrupted, I look away― because if I’m not making eye contact, the person with whom I’m talking doesn’t exist. But when I stop talking while maintaining eye contact, that’s the other person’s non-verbal cue to begin talking.

And that’s why the speaker looks at the person to whom she or he is speaking only about 30% of the time, while the listener is looking at the speaker 70% of the time, waiting for her or his chance to start talking!

As another example, we all have a sense of our personal space, and if anyone invades that space we get very uncomfortable, especially when we make eye contact. And that’s why, whenever we find ourselves squeezed into a crowded elevator, everyone is always looking at the numbers above the door. The last thing we want to do is make eye contact while we’re inside other people’s personal space!

Well, in the fullness of time I graduated from college, and I went to work selling group insurance. My first assignment was in Richmond, Virginia. I didn’t know a soul in Richmond, but I knew I could meet people if I went to church. And what does a desperate church want to do with a young adult right out of college? Put him in charge of the youth group! So there I was, in charge of the youth group, even though I didn’t have any faith. So what to teach them?

Well, as it happened, Julius Fast had recently written a best seller titled Body Language, which showed an attractive woman on the cover with her arms crossed and various lines pointing to various parts of her body and suggesting what she was communicating non-verbally.

So I figured, I could tell them all the scientific stuff I’d learned about body language and eye contact.

But then I began to think that I ought to at least try to hook it up with the Bible. So I reached into my trunk― some of you will remember when we used to use trunks to haul all our worldly goods in!― and pulled from the bottom of my trunk my dusty old red-leather King James Version of the Bible. And here it is!

So I decided to begin reading at the start of the New Testament, Matthew 1:1, in the hope I would find something that would connect with body language.

And then I came to Matthew 6:22 and 23: “For the light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single”― I had to look that up; and I discovered that in King James English “single” meant “honest,” and “sincere”―, “thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness.”

Well that rocked me back! What was this 20th century psychological insight doing in this 2,000 year old book?! At that moment, though I wouldn’t have known the words back then, my heart “burned within” me.

After reading that verse, I decided that if I were going to be skeptical, then I should be a thoroughgoing skeptic and be skeptical of my skepticism! So the first thing I did was to go out and by a modern translation of the Bible so I could read it without having to go to the dictionary and look up outdated words.

And that was the beginning of my spiritual journey with Scripture― and I wasn’t even at the Exploring Christ level― I was simply exploring my way out of the jam I’d put myself in by agreeing to lead the Youth Group!

But in that moment, Jesus opened my mind to understand― or at least opened a desire to understand― the Scriptures.

Wherever we may be in our spiritual journey, whether Exploring Christ, or Growing in Christ or Close to Christ or Christ-Centered, may Jesus continue to open our minds and open the Scripture more and more, so that we might grow spiritually more and more, and follow him.

Amen.

Confirmation Sermon by the Rt. Rev. Christopher Epting on Easter Saturday

On this Easter Saturday, we have what is sometimes called the “Longer Ending” of Mark for our Gospel reading this morning. Most scholars believe that Mark originally ended his Gospel (which was the first one ever written) one verse earlier than our text today.

In keeping with the fast-paced, urgent account of Jesus’ life which Mark gives us, we think he originally ended his gospel on a note of suspense – with Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome coming to Jesus’ tomb to anoint his body, being confronted by a young man in a white robe who tells them that Jesus had been raised, that he was going before them to Galilee, and that they should go and tell the disciples (and Peter) that they should meet him there. The women ran away and, at first, told no one anything about this incident because, Mark says, “they were afraid.” (16:8)

But, of course, the other Gospel accounts of Jesus’ life – Matthew, Luke and John – know that was NOT the end of the story, so a later editor of Mark’s Gospel summarizes what those other writers (particularly Luke) have to say about the days and weeks following that first Easter Sunday.

Specifically: that Jesus had a special encounter with Mary Magdalene after that event at the empty tomb; that he was experienced by two disciples on the road to Emmaus when he opened the Scriptures to them and was eventually known to them in the context of a common meal (known to those disciples “in the breaking of the bread.”); and that there were other so-called “resurrection appearances” often around a common meal where they ate and drank together.

Finally, this editor of Mark finishes with what Matthew and Luke both include as a kind of “Great Commission” to the disciples, “Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation.” (Mark 16:15) “And they went out and proclaimed (that) good news everywhere while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by the signs that accompanied it.” (Mark 16:20)

And it’s those last words of Mark’s “longer ending” that I want to concentrate on today.

First of all, “Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation.”

Christianity is a “missionary religion!” You are not “born” a Christian…you “become” a Christian. Now, you can be born into a Christian family or even into a society which considers itself Christian. But Christianity is not an inherited thing like the color of your eyes or the texture of your hair. At some point, one has to “decide” to follow Jesus (as the old Gospel hymn would have it).

That’s a very dramatic thing for some people; others simply grow into a commitment to Christ over the years, gradually. The important thing is not HOW conversion happens to you, but THAT it happens! The folks here today who are being confirmed are doing just that – they are CONFIRMING that the faith into which they were baptized is the faith they want to practice and to follow from this time forth!  As a verse from one of our hymns puts it: “Here, at your table, confirm our intention/ ever to cherish the gifts you provide/ Teach us to serve without pride or pretention/ led by your Spirit/ defender and guide.”

So, we are “sent forth” to proclaim the good news just as those early apostles were in the Gospel of Mark. But what is this “good news?” What is it that we are sent out to share? Basically, in its simplest and purest form – that God loves us! That’s what the life, death and resurrection of Jesus is all about. It’s a demonstration of the fact that the Creator of this Universe, the awesome Force behind it all is . . . “kindly disposed” towards us!

God is not some impersonal Power or, worse yet, some tyrannical, whimsical Puppet Master in the sky. This creator, redeemer, and sanctifier of the world, this Living and True God . . . loves us! And not only us but, as Mark’s Gospel reminds us, loves the whole Creation. “Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to all CREATION!” The Force which created this Universe and all that is in it, including us, is none other than the force of Love!

You and I are supposed to tell people about that! Lots of folks just don’t believe it! They either don’t believe in God at all, or they think that God is an angry, punishing God, or perhaps even worse than that, they think that God just doesn’t care very much one way or the other. A kind of “watchmaker God” who created the world all right, but then stands far off and watches it tick its way to oblivion.

We know better than that. We know better than that because we have seen the Human Face of God in Jesus Christ and therefore we know what kind of God we have. A God of compassion, a God of mercy and loving-kindness, a God who desires nothing more or less than to have us as partners in the building up of a world of justice and peace where all people can be what God intended them to be. That was the message of the prophets, that was the message of the apostles and the early Church. It is the message you and I are to share with our families, friends and neighbors today.

“And they went out and proclaimed the good news everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by the signs that accompanied it.” (Mark 16:20). That’s the last bit of good news I have to share with you this morning. We’re not in this alone. Christ has promised to be with us to “the ends of the earth.” And he will “work with us” (as the text says) to help us be faithful and to convince the world of his love!

The message will be confirmed, according to these verses, “by the signs that accompany it.” Those signs are the way you live your life! No one will believe in a God of love if that God is preached by an angry person. No one will believe in a God of forgiveness if that God is preached by an unforgiving spirit. No one will believe in a God of justice and peace if that God is preached by people who are bigoted and prejudiced and full of hatred and violence.

St. Francis once famously said, “Preach the Gospel always. If necessary, use words.” That means that the way you live your life will determine what kind of witness you will be for Jesus Christ.

In a few moments I will pray for each of these confirmation candidates using these words:

“Strength, O Lord, this your servant, with your Holy Spirit; empower them for your service, and sustain them all the days of their lives.”

That’s my prayer for all of us, dear friends. That we will each be strengthened by the Holy Spirit . . . empowered to serve our Creator God . . . and be sustained in that calling all the days of our lives.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon by the Rev. Leigh VanderMeer on the Second Sunday of Easter

Easter 2 B, RCL - April 15, 2012 Given at St. Gregory’s

Acts 4:32-35 Psalm 133 1 John 1:1-2:2 John 20:19-31

There’s a passage in the gospel of Mark in which a man brings his son to Jesus for healing.

The boy is unable to speak, has seizures, foams at the mouth and throws himself about . . . sometimes dangerously so . . . as if he’s caught fire, for example

The father asks Jesus if he could please help them. 

Jesus says to the man, "All things can be done for the one who believes."

Immediately the father of the child cried out "I believe; help my unbelief!"  

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I think this is what Thomas was doing…..He was asking for help. Thomas believed all right. . . . Sticking by Jesus throughout his three year ministry gives evidence to that.  Thomas believed . . . he just needed help with his unbelief.  

At that moment in the room with his fellow disciples, Thomas was being asked to swallow a particularly incredible claim . . . the claim being that Jesus, the teacher whom he loved and followed as a faithful disciple….the man whom everyone knew had suffered a horrible death on the cross and was buried in the tomb. . . .Thomas was now being asked to believe that Jesus had presented himself in person to the disciples. Thomas’ response makes perfect sense to me.

If I showed up for work one day and my colleagues told me that the person who’s funeral I’d attended the week before had appeared at the staff meeting that morning, My response would be . . . ”Yeah right!”

In fact, I’m not sure I’d even bother asking for proof considering it was such a ridiculous claim in the first place.  What I’d really be thinking was that my colleagues had finally gone off the deep end.

So when Jesus appeared a week later following his death and burial, Thomas essentially asked for the same thing that the man with the epileptic son had asked, “Lord, I believe . . . Help my unbelief!”

And Jesus did. 

Jesus met Thomas exactly where he was at…. just as Jesus had responded to the distressed father.

Therefore, in defense of Thomas - I think he’s gotten a bad rap.  All the guy did was ask for some concrete evidence. Not that he didn’t trust his fellow disciples… he simply needed a little extra confirmation. 

And look what happened because of it.

Pegged forever as a man of doubt.  To the point that he even got his own idiom…Doubting Thomas . . . a person with a lack of faith. Someone who refuses to believe until given proof.      

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The reality is that there are times in our lives when we too might need a little extra proof.  For many of us, even though our faith is constantly there…it doesn’t necessarily run at the same constant pace.  It waxes and wanes and we find ourselves needing different things at different times in order to nurture and sustain our faith.

Sometimes our faith can feel so strong that we live and breathe scripture passages like, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” These are those times when it’s easy to believe that with God all things are indeed possible.  Yet at other times in our lives we struggle wondering where the heck is God and why isn’t God here doing anything to help my unbelief!!

These are times when we want proof that Jesus is active in our lives.

These are times when we NEED proof.    

Experiencing doubt, asking questions or wanting more evidence doesn’t mean we don’t believe or that our faith is somehow lacking. A common misconception is that doubt is the opposite of faith.  It is not!

Indifference is the opposite of faith.

Frederick Buechner, a Presbyterian minister, theologian, and author, sees doubt as the “ants in the pants of faith.”  He suggests that doubt keeps faith awake and moving. . . . Active and alive.      

It’s important to note that Jesus didn’t rebuke Thomas over his request for more evidence.  Thomas was being true to who he was.  He was a man who didn’t blindly accept what others told him.  He questioned. He was human.

And Jesus was being true to who he was by graciously offering himself to Thomas in response.  Jesus gave Thomas what he needed to grow in faith just as Jesus had done so many other times with other people throughout his ministry.  Jesus helped people with their unbelief all the time.

Through the miracles he performed, Jesus revealed himself. He offered himself to others where they were at so they too could either come to believe for the first time or be furthered strengthened.

Think of the woman at the well, or the crippled man who didn’t have anyone to lift him into the healing pool.  Think of the raising of Lazarus from the dead.  All miraculous acts that helped people with their unbelief….to help people grow in their faith.

Besides, it’s not like Thomas was the only one doubting.  Today’s gospel begins by noting that the disciples had locked themselves in the room for fear of the Jewish authorities.  This tells me that they must not have fully believed all that Jesus told them.  Nor did they believe Mary Magdalene when she first reported back from the empty tomb that she’d seen Jesus, risen from the dead.

They didn’t fully come around to believing it for themselves until Jesus actually showed up in their midst in that locked room.  Then they believed – when they saw it with their own eyes.

There are other passages in John’s gospel that actually support the idea that maybe Thomas was more of a model disciple than the doubter that he’s been portrayed as.  In the 11th chapter for example, when Lazarus dies everyone else is afraid to make the journey to visit his family because they’d just had a run in with the Jewish leaders. The disciples were worried about Jesus placing himself (and them) in danger, but Thomas was prepared to go with Jesus and die with him too if necessary.

In the 14th chapter, at the last supper when Jesus is telling the disciples about the many dwelling-places in his Father’s house . . . how he has prepared a place for the disciples . . . and then tells them that they know the way to the place where Jesus is going. . . .

Thomas is the one who asks Jesus, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”  Thomas questions what Jesus means. Thomas may not get it, but he engages and tries to understand.  He is like the person in the classroom or small study group who is brave enough to ask the question that we know is on everyone else’s minds but we’re afraid of asking for fear of looking silly.

Maybe the model of discipleship that we can learn from Thomas is his courage.  His courage in not being afraid to ask questions and think things through for himself. His courage to say, “Jesus, I don’t get it. Can you help me out? Can you help me to understand.”

And Jesus responds.    

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Jesus continues to work this way with us in our lives . . . meeting us where we are at. Responding to our questions. Giving us what we need at the moment to help us grow in faith. Presenting himself before us… graciously offering his wounds for us to touch . . . no questions asked… if indeed that’s what we need at the moment.

This gracious offering, this revealing of God’s self to us is what we know and experience as grace. The power of the risen Christ with us always . . . strengthening us, reassuring us, comforting us.

Helping ­us with our unbelief.  AMEN!

Now THAT'S something to hand on!

+ In the Love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

22 years ago St. Gregory’s staff included our first woman priest and a Roman Catholic priest. As unlikely as that may sound, it’s true. You don’t have to take my word for it― you can ask parishioners who were here 22 years ago. Just out of curiosity, are there any parishioners here this morning who remember Mother Cathleen Chittenden-Bascom― who was our Curate― and Father Don Craig― who was our Organist? {{Congregational Response}}

22 years is the same amount of time between the year 33, when Jesus was crucified and raised from the dead, and the year 55 when Paul wrote his first letter to the Corinthians:

“For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas [which is Peter’s name in Aramaic], then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died.”

Just as I can find you parishioners who remember Cathy and Don from 22 years ago, Paul could find people who had seen the risen Jesus 22 years earlier.

But notice Paul’s words: “For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received. . . .” That’s how the good news has continued ever since― Christians handing on their experiences of the risen Lord.

In 1982 Richard Holloway, a Scottish priest living in Boston, and who later became the Presiding Bishop of the Scottish Episcopal Church, wrote a series of meditations which I have used for many years on Good Friday. In one of his meditations he writes this:

“. . . I used to write [my sermons] all out in longhand in big notebooks. I still have them all, great big notebooks full of handwritten sermons.  . . . 

“As well as having those volumes of my own sermons, I also have a complete set of another man’s notebooks.  . . .  One says on it: ‘Aberdeen 1928. . . .’ In this book there are about forty sermons written out. . . .  I find something moving and supportive and very wistful in these notebooks, as I think of that priest in his study in Aberdeen, all those years ago. . . . I get from these books a sense of the presence of Christ, the contemporary reality of Christ. [Christ] was real to this man as . . . [Christ] is real to me, as I wrestle with his elusive but overwhelming reality.

“. . . There is a chain of succession, an actualizing of the presence of Christ, which comes through this strange and mysterious activity of preaching.  . . .

“That is one reason why I look at this man’s notebooks. I see him humbly, haltingly trying to put down on paper what can never really be put into words: the reality of the universal Christ, in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, in Aberdeen sixty years ago, and in Boston today. Preachers, for all their dumbness and confusion, nevertheless know that Christ is the real and living one.”

When I first read this, I felt a thrill of recognition, because I have a collection of sermons and notes that Father Hanner, my parish priest when I was growing up, handed on to me, just as those other man’s notebooks and sermons had been handed on to Richard Holloway.

Just a few days ago, on Maundy Thursday, Julia Miller, a former parishioner, handed on her remarkable experience of the risen Lord by posting it on Facebook. Here it is:

“I grew up in an Episcopal church that had a Maundy Thursday prayer vigil. From Maundy Thursday evening through Good Friday morning, people stayed and prayed through the night.  . . . For as far back as I can remember, . . . after the Maundy Thursday service, my mother has always stayed and prayed, ‘kept watch’ with Jesus.

“On Maundy Thursday in 2005 . . . I was working the closing shift of my restaurant. I turned off the lights, set the security alarms, and [a young woman named Kim and I] walked out together into the parking lot. From around the corner of the back of the building, two men dressed in black from head to toe, including ski masks covering their faces, came running toward us. We started screaming as they grabbed us and pointed their guns at us and told us to shut up. They wanted us to let them into the building, turn off the alarm, and give them all the money out of the safe.

“As I was filling up one of the guy’s open backpack with money while he pointed his gun at my face, . . . I said out loud, ‘I’m pregnant. Please don't hurt us or my baby.’ The guy . . . lowered his gun and actually asked me how far along I was! I told him, and he said they wouldn’t hurt us, that they just wanted the money. Then he told me to lie down and started tying up my arms and legs.

“I folded my hands together and began to silently pray. I remembered that it was Maundy Thursday, and I KNEW and FELT that my mother was at her church right at that very moment praying for me and the baby. I was filled with a strength and peace like I’ve never known before. . . . But I was [also] filled with grief for [my husband] Terry, thinking about how sad he’d be to go the rest of his life without us and knowing our baby. I prayed hard for God to be with Terry for the rest of his life and bless him. I gave thanks for my mother who was constantly praying for me. And I prayed for God to forgive and bless the two robbers. . . .

“That Easter Sunday in 2005, in celebrating the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ and knowing that I had the new life of my baby within me, I knew that I had also been given the gift of a new life.”

“The gift of a new life.” That’s what all of us are receiving today― the gift of new life from the resurrection of Jesus Christ from then dead.

Now that’s something to hand on!

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

+ + +

Postscript 1.

As I was getting ready for the 8 o’clock service, Mary and Fred Herlocker surprised me. They knew me from my growing-up days at the Church of the Holy Comforter where Father Hanner was the Rector. I had had no idea they were coming, nor did they have any idea that I would be talking about Father Hanner in my sermon! Mary was a nurse, and in those days I had a predilection for fainting in church. Mary was always there to revive me! (My dad always said, “Bill’s having another one of his visions!”)

Postscript 2.

Julia Miller writes: “I had always gone with my parents to St. Mary’s Korean / One in Christ Episcopal Church. I graduated college in 2000 and moved into the city for a little bit, but it didn’t work out. I moved back home in 2001 and decided I wanted to find an English-speaking church, and I knew Mrs. Potter [who had been the priest at St. Mary’s Korean / One in Christ] was at St. Gregory’s. I was at St. Gregory’s from February 2001 until November 2003. My time there was short but very meaningful.

[Mother Meredith Potter baptized Julia and officiated when Julia married Terry.]

Here is Julia’s complete Facebook text:

My Easter Story: the Gift of New Life (or, Why I Am ALWAYS Saying How Blessed I Am!)

Every year on Maundy Thursday, I become very reflective about what happened to me in 2005. While 2 months pregnant with Angela, I was robbed at gunpoint & left tied up on the floor of my work office.

Here is an article that I wrote last year about the experience:

I’ve always loved the Easter season. It is the very core of being a Christian, that Jesus Christ died for our sins and rose again, so that we may have new life in Him.

I grew up in an Episcopal church that had a Maundy Thursday prayer vigil. From Maundy Thursday evening through Good Friday morning, people stayed and prayed through the night. This commemorates the disciples beings asked by Jesus to stay and keep watch with him while he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before he was crucified (Mark 14: 32-42). For as far back as I can remember, every Easter weekend after the Maundy Thursday service, my mother has always stayed and prayed, “kept watch” with Jesus.

On Maundy Thursday in 2005, I was robbed at gunpoint and left tied up on the floor of my office. I was two months pregnant with our precious first-born child Angela, and I could feel the protective arms of God wrap around us and fill us with His love and peace throught the ordeal.

Terry & I were living and working in Minneapolis. We were blessed and delighted with the path God was putting us on. We had been married a year and a half, and we were managers for Chili’s restaurants. He had just been promoted to a General Manager position, and the company had just moved us from Milwaukee to Minneapolis. Shortly after moving, as we were settling into our new home, church, and restaurants, I became pregnant. Everything was happening just as we hoped for, and we felt completely blessed.

On Maundy Thursday, I was working the closing shift of my restaurant. After the last of the guests left, I locked all the doors and finished up my paperwork while the last of the employees finished cleaning. Whoever was last to finish always waited for me so I was not alone in the building, whether it was a cook or dishwasher or server or bartender. This evening, it was my bartender, a young woman named Kim. I turned off the lights, set the security alarms, and we walked out together into the parking lot.

From around the corner of the back of the building, two men dressed in black from head to toe, including ski masks covering their faces, came running tward us. We started screaming as they grabbed us and pointed their guns at us and told us to shut up. They wanted us to let them into the building, turn off the alarm, and give them all the money out of the safe.

As I was filling up one of the guy’s open backpack with money while he pointed his gun at my face, the other guy was tying Kim up on the floor. I said out loud, “I’m pregnant. Please don’t hurt us or my baby.” The guy with me lowered his gun and actually asked me how far along I was! I told him, and he said they wouldn’t hurt us, that they just wanted the money. Then he told me to lie down and started tying up my arms and legs.

I folded my hands together and began to silently pray. I remembered that it was Maundy Thursday, and I KNEW and FELT that my mother was at her church right at that very moment praying for me and the baby. I was filled with a strength and peace like I’ve never known before. I said to God that if it was His will that the baby and I die that night, then His will be done. I selfishly prayed that it not be painful and that the baby wouldn’t suffer, but I was at peace with whatever was going to happen to us.

But I was filled with grief for Terry, thinking about how sad he’d be to go the rest of his life without us and knowing our baby. I prayed hard for God to be with Terry for the rest of his life and bless him. I gave thanks for my mother who was constantly praying for me. And I prayed for God to forgive and bless the two robbers.

I was amazed later when reading my Bible that in the Garden of Gethsamane, Jesus prayed, “Please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.” (Matthew 26:39, Mark 14:36, Luke 22:42)

I do NOT dare to compare myself with Jesus and even think that what I went through is anything like what He went through! I believe myself to be completely unworthy and undeserving of His love and grace and forgiveness. I am always wondering, who am I that He blesses me so? But that Easter Sunday in 2005, in celebrating the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ and knowing that I had the new life of my baby within me, I knew that I had also been given the gift of a new life.

“All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is by his great mercy that we have been born again, because God raised Jesus Christ from the dead.” 1 Peter 1:3

Palm Sunday Sermon by the Rev. Leigh VanderMeer

(Journey through Lent: The Thirty-fifth Step.)

Palm Sunday April 1, 2012   St. Gregory’s Deerfield The Rev. Leigh VanderMeer

Isaiah 50:4-9a Psalm 31:9-16 Philippians 2:5-11 Mark 15:1-39, (40-47)

One thing preachers often hear from parishioners is that they don’t want us talking politics in our sermons.

And I agree that it’s not appropriate to use the pulpit to promote anything but the Word of God or anyone but Jesus.

Yet the truth is, what occurred on what we identify as Palm Sunday – was a decidedly political event. . . an intentional, planned demonstration in opposition to the ruling party. 

Jesus processed into the city on the back of a colt being joyously welcomed by the crowds waving palm branches as any king would be welcomed upon entering a city where he rules.

On that same day on other side of the city - as noted in the book, The Last Week [1] - Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor also arrived leading a procession of imperial soldiers and horses.

Pilate’s procession proclaiming the power of the Roman empire.

Jesus’ procession proclaiming the arrival of a new authority.  A king that will bring peace to the nations.

Jesus was a direct challenge not only to the Roman leaders – the religious leaders also.  As he later demonstrated in the temple where he asserted not only his authority, but also his mastery over the temple, scripture and proper ritual practice.   All direct challenges to the religious authorities.

It’s also important to note in the reading that when Jesus is instructing the disciples to go get him a colt to ride in on - this is the only time that Jesus uses the authoritative title of “the Lord” in referring to himself.

An act indicating the new phase of ministry he is beginning – that of embracing his identity as the son of God and beginning the painful journey to the cross – a journey necessary to bring about salvation for all  - through his death and resurrection.

Up to this point in Mark’s gospel, Jesus has instructed the disciples to keep his identity secret… secret until the time is right.

That time as arrived.

Jesus knows what’s coming . . . . as do we through the gift of scripture and the passage of time.  Holy week begins a time of pain, loss and somber reflection on what it means for us to contemplate not only the suffering that Jesus endured for our sake, but to also contemplate what the loss of our savior would for us. 

We know too that Holy Week ends in joyous triumph with the resurrection, yet I invite you to immerse yourself in the Passion of our Lord as you prepare for Easter.

Read, pray, meditate on what this means for you.  this most precious gift you’ve received – the gift of salvation – forgiveness of sin - all made possible through the sacrifice of Jesus. 

I find the Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services are a particularly good way to get my head wrapped around this reality. 

Beginning in celebration on Thursday evening with the Lord’s Supper, yet then moments after experiencing the loss of Jesus as he’s arrested and taken away, symbolized by the stripping of the altar. 

On through to Good Friday where we stay with Jesus as he hangs on the cross waiting to die.

When meditating on the events of this week, try and visualize yourself actually being there.

Imagine what it would have been like for the disciples, sharing in the bread and wine with their beloved leader, witnessing his arrest in the garden, being fearful and hiding away from being associated with him, and then seeing this trusted leader whom you love more than life itself, whipped, tortured and then nailed on a cross to die.

A painful exercise to be sure, yet one way to more deeply step into the Holy Week experience.

We walk this journey in faith with Jesus – to the cross, to death, to burial and resurrection, . . . We walk this journey in faith to forgiveness of our sins and eternal salvation for all.   Amen.

---

[1] Borg, Marcus J. & John Dominic Crossan , The Last Week: A Day-by-Day Account of Jesus’s Final Week in Jerusalem, (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 2006), 2.

Leigh also recommends an online article by John Dominic Crossan, which you may access by clicking here.

The Etch A Sketch Gospel

+ In the Love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

This morning’s reading from Jeremiah is one of my favorites. And as a young seminarian, I also did my first exegesis― church-speak for analysis or exposition― of this passage thirty-seven years ago― and here it is!― typed with a primitive portable typewriter on the kind of oily typewriter paper widely used back then.

This is the first time I’ve actually used this exegesis since writing it! Here’s what I wrote under “Historical Setting”: “When the Babylonians captured Jerusalem in 587 B. C., the Jewish leaders wished to flee the new Chaldean province for Egypt. When Jeremiah counseled against flight, they took him and Baruch with them into Egypt.”

So with that brief introduction, let’s take a look at the passage (Jeremiah 31:31-34).

“The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah.”

What’s a “covenant?”

{{Congregational Response}}

[“agreement,” and especially in this context an “alliance” between God and the house of Israel and the house of Judah]

Now, where do we find the words “new covenant” every Sunday?

{{Congregational Response}}

[In the Eucharistic Prayer we pray every Sunday: “This is my Blood of the new Covenant, which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.”]

We continue:

“It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt― a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord.”

How tenderly God speaks of his people: “when I took them by the hand” and “though I was their husband.”

This is a God whose overriding desire is to have a close, intimate, loving relationship with his people― even though they broke the covenant God had made with them.

Let’s take a look at this old covenant. Please turn in your pew Bibles to Exodus 24:1.

I’m going to read the first two verses and then skip down to verse 9 and read through verse 11, and as I do, notice how the second verse flows seamlessly into the ninth verse:

“Then he [the angel] said to Moses, ‘Come up to the Lord, you and Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel, and worship at a distance. Moses alone shall come near the Lord; but the others shall not come near, and the people shall not come up with him.’ Then Moses and Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel went up, and they saw the God of Israel. Under his feet there was something like a pavement of sapphire stone, like the very heaven for clearness. God did not lay his hand on the chief men of the people of Israel; also they beheld God, and they ate and drank.”

Moses and the others were told to “come up” to God; and they “went up” to God, and in God’s presence they ate and drank.

Now let’s read the verses in between:

“Moses came and told the people all the words of the Lord and all the ordinances; and all the people answered with one voice, and said, ‘All the words that the Lord has spoken we will do.’ And Moses wrote down all the words of the Lord. He rose early in the morning, and built an altar at the foot of the mountain, and set up twelve pillars, corresponding to the twelve tribes of Israel. He sent young men of the people of Israel, who offered burnt offerings and sacrificed oxen as offerings of well-being to the Lord. Moses took half of the blood and put it in basins, and half of the blood he dashed against the altar. Then he took the book of the covenant, and read it in the hearing of the people; and they said, ‘All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient.’ Moses took the blood and dashed it on the people, and said, ‘See the blood of the covenant that the Lord has made with you in accordance with all these words.’”

In this passage, Moses takes half the blood from the sacrificed oxen, and throws it against the altar, which represents God. And then he reads the covenant— which the people agree to follow― and throws the other half of the blood against the people. And in this way the blood seals the covenant between God and the people of Israel.

By wrapping the story of the sacred meal around the story of the sacred sacrifice, two stories or traditions about the Exodus covenant have been united into one story.

So now let’s return to the reading from Jeremiah:

“But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, ‘Know the Lord,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.”

Jeremiah prophesies that the new covenant will be a covenant of forgiveness, because God realizes that if his overriding desire is a close, intimate, and loving relationship with his people, there’s only one way to deal with their sin― by forgiving it.

And so, on the night in which he was betrayed, Jesus celebrates a special meal with his friends― the Passover meal which commemorates the Exodus from Egypt and the covenant between God and God’s people. And then after supper, Jesus astonishes his friends when he takes the cup of wine  and says, “This is my Blood of the new Covenant, which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

At that moment, Jeremiah’s prophecy is fulfilled and the new covenant of forgiveness begins. Like the old covenant, this new covenant combines a sacred meal with a sacred sacrifice, but this time it is God’s own blood which is poured out when Jesus is lifted up from the earth and draws all people to himself, saying, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

So I asked myself, “What can I do in my sermon to drive home the incredibly good news of God’s forgiveness? How can I show people in a way they won’t forget, that our sins have been forgiven?”

And then I had a great idea. Are you ready?

Silently, I produce an Etch A Sketch with the word “SIN” etched on it, show it around, and then shake it so that the word “SIN” disappears.

And then I walk back to my chair and wait for the Eucharistic Minister to begin the Nicene Creed.

Wilderness

+ In the Love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

On the First Sunday after the Epiphany we had the story of Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan, and this morning on the First Sunday of Lent we revisit Jesus’ baptism. But now we learn that after the Spirit descends on Jesus with the gentleness of a dove, that same Spirit immediately drives Jesus out into the wilderness where he is tempted by Satan.

But why does the Spirit drive him into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan?

Here’s what James R. Edwards writes in his commentary on The Gospel according to Mark:

“. . . the temptation . . . is . . . necessary . . . lest Jesus be imagined as a divine clone . . . who had no choice or desire of his own. The temptation establishes the free, sovereign agency of Jesus, who, like all human agents, must choose to make God’s will his own. The significance of that choice can be realized only in the context of an alternative and opposite choice posed by God’s adversary. Hence, Jesus must be ‘tempted by Satan’” (p. 40).

The Church begins Lent with Jesus’ baptism and his struggle in the wilderness to remind us that we too must choose to make God’s will our own.

As you may remember, Matthew and Luke also have stories about Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, but Mark’s Gospel is the only one that refers to “the wild beasts.”

James Edwards sees the wild beasts as “a very specific point of contact with Mark’s Roman readers. Tacitus [a first century Roman senator and historian] spoke of [the Emperor] Nero’s savagery toward Christians in the sixties of the first century in these words: ‘[the Christians] were covered with the hides of wild beasts and torn to pieces by dogs’ (Ann. 15:44).

“Given the ravaging of Christians by ferocious animals during Nero’s reign, . . . Mark [mentions] ‘with the wild beasts’ in order to remind his Roman readers that Christ, too, was thrown to wild beasts, and as the angels ministered to him, so, too, will they minister to Roman readers facing martyrdom’” (p. 41).

Ignatius, the Bishop of Antioch who lived at the same time as Tacitus, was one of many Christians condemned to fight with wild beasts in Rome. Near the end of his journey from Antioch to Rome, he wrote a letter to the Church about his impending martyrdom:

“I am God’s wheat, and I am being ground by the teeth of wild beasts to make a pure loaf for Christ.  . . .  But if I suffer, I shall be emancipated by Jesus Christ; and united to him, I shall rise to freedom.  . . .  Come fire, cross, battling with wild beasts, wrenching of bones, mangling of limbs, crushing of my whole body, cruel tortures of the devil― only let me get to Jesus Christ!” (Romans 4-5)

If Mark can describe the wilderness for first-century Romans in terms of “wild beasts,” how might we describe the wilderness for twenty-first century Americans?

I’ve just begun reading Bob Johansen’s book on leadership titled Get There Early: Sensing the Future to Compete in the Present. He describes two aspects of the twenty-first century wilderness.

The first aspect is the contrast between problems and dilemmas:

“Most of today’s leaders . . . were trained to problem-solve. They see problems everywhere, but they have trouble recognizing dilemmas. . . . Dilemmas are problems that cannot be solved, problems that won’t go away.  . . .  Most of today’s leaders were never taught how to win when faced with dilemmas” (p. xvii).

The second aspect of today’s twenty-first century wilderness is defined by the acronym “VUCA”―

the V stands for Volatility,

the U stands for Uncertainty,

the C stands for Complexity, and

the A stands for Ambiguity.

The acronym originated in the 1990s “from the U.S. Army War College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania― the U.S. Army’s graduate school for generals-to-be. . .” (pp. 1-2).

Both aspects can be seen in the recent debate about contraception coverage. The “problem-solving” approach sees this debate in terms of religious freedom versus health care, but it has all the hallmarks of a dilemma: Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity.

The same can be said about energy policy. The “problem-solving” approach sees this in terms of “drill, drill, drill” versus solar panels and wind turbines, but again, energy policy has all the hallmarks of a dilemma: Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity.

So then, how do we respond to the dilemmas which confront us personally? Here is Johansen’s response:

“In order to thrive . . . people must . . . turn around the uncomfortable VUCA acronym by . . . having Vision, Understanding, Clarity, and Agility” (p. 2).

While appreciating Johansen’s analysis, it seems to me that Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity describe Jesus’ world as well as ours:

We can see Volatility in the crowds that shout “Hosanna!” to Jesus on Palm Sunday and “Crucify him!” on Good Friday.

We can see Uncertainty as Jesus wrestles with God’s will in the Garden of Gethsemane.

We can see Complexity when Jesus is asked whether it’s lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not.

And we can see Ambiguity when the Pharisees and scribes bring to Jesus a woman taken in adultery.

But we can also see how Jesus turns it all around when he replaces Volatility with Vision and says “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

We can see how Jesus turns it all around when he replaces Uncertainty with Understanding, and prays to God “your will be done” (Matthew 26:36-46).

We can see how Jesus turns it all around when he replaces Complexity with Clarity and says, “Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and give to God the things that are God’s” (Matthew 22:15-22).

And we can see how Jesus turns it all around when he replaces Ambiguity with Agility and says to the Pharisees and Scribes, “Let the one without sin cast the first stone” (John 8:2-11).

As we enter our own particular wildernesses this Lent, may Jesus grant us his Vision, his Understanding, his Clarity, and his Agility, so that we may have the grace both to choose God’s will and to do God’s will.

Amen.

“. . . yet even at the grave. . . .”

Journey through Lent: The First Step

Today is Ash Wednesday in the English-speaking Anglican world. In Wales, this is Dydd Mercher y Lludw: the Wednesday of the Ashes.

After weeks of intermittant posts, my Lenten discipline this year, as it was last year, is a return to daily posts during these forty days.

This first post is the sermon I preached today.

+ In the Love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

These are the words we hear every Ash Wednesday, and as I say them over each of you, and as they are said over me, I cannot help but reflect that between now and the next Ash Wednesday I may go down to the dust, or one of you may go down to the dust.

As I thought about what I might say this morning I remembered these words from The Commendation portion of the Church’s service of the Burial of Dead (The Book of Common Prayer, p. 499), words addressed to God:

“You only are immortal, the creator and maker of humankind; and we are mortal, formed of the earth, and to earth shall we return. For so did you ordain when you created me, saying, ‘You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

And then this Commendation concludes with these stunningly defiant words: “All of us go down to the dust; yet even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.”

We don’t often think of Lent as a time to be defiant. Usually we think of Lent as a time of self-examination, penitence, and the knowledge of our mortality. And these are important aspects of Lent.

But the goal of Ash Wednesday and Lent is Easter, and tonight we are beginning our journey from dust to resurrection.

Here’s how St. Paul describes the journey from dust to resurrection in his extraordinary chapter on resurrection in his letter to the Church in Corinth (1 Corinthians 15:45-49):

“The first man, Adam, became a living being”; the last Adam”― by which Paul means Jesus― “became a life-giving spirit.  . . . The first man was from the earth, a man of dust; the second man”― Jesus― “is from heaven. As was the man of dust, so are those who are of the dust; and as is the man of heaven, so are those who are of heaven. Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we will also bear the image of the man of heaven.”

So let us make a defiant Lent, defiant against all those things which try to bring us down to the dust, so that even at the grave we will be able to make our song: Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

 

Pride and Prejudice

+ In the Love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Just this past week I finished reading Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. If you haven’t read the book or seen one of the film adaptations, it’s the story of a family with five daughters, chief among them Jane and Elizabeth, a gentleman named Mr. Darcy, and, sad to say, an unbearable Anglican priest! The two things almost all of the characters have in common are Pride and Prejudice― although it takes different forms. Elizabeth has the sort of Pride and Prejudice we usually think of― pride in her character and prejudice against people. On the other hand, Jane has the inverse pride that belittles her own deserving, and prejudice in favor of people no matter how undeserving!

Near the beginning of the book, Elizabeth and her sister Mary and their friend Miss Lucas are discussing Mr. Darcy:

“‘His pride,’ said Miss Lucas, ‘does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, every thing in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud.’

“‘That is very true,’ replied Elizabeth, ‘and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.’

“‘Pride,’ observed Mary . . . ‘is a very common failing I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonimously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.’’’

On that score, our reading from 2nd Kings could be titled Pride and Prejudice!

Naaman certainly has, as Miss Lucas would say, an excuse for pride: he is the “commander of the army of the king of Aram,” “a great man and in high favor with his master,” and even the Lord of Israel is on his side! But when Elisha won’t come out to see him, or call on the name of the Lord, and wave his hand over the leprosy, but simply tells him to wash in the insignificant Jordan River, Naaman’s pride and vanity are terribly wounded and he goes off in a rage!

Elisha’s pride and vanity is also on display. He tells the king of Israel, “Let [Naaman] come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel”― namely, himself! And Elisha refuses to greet Naaman personally, sending a messenger instead.

What a contrast with this morning’s Gospel! There is neither Pride nor Prejudice in the leper who comes to Jesus, begging him, kneeling before him, and not at all presuming that Jesus will choose to heal him. Nor is there any Pride or Prejudice in Jesus, who, moved with compassion, touches the untouchable and heals him.

Here’s what the third century Christian theologian Origen wrote of this passage:

“And why did he touch him, since the Law forbade the touching of a leper? He touched him to show that ‘all things are clean to the clean’ [Titus 1:15].  . . .  So he touches him in his untouchability, that he might instruct us in humility; that he might teach us that we should despise no one, or abhor them, or regard them as pitiable, because [of] some wound of their body or some blemish. . .” (emphasis added).

In other words, Jesus touches the leper to teach us that Pride and Prejudice have no place in the Christian heart.

And that brings us to Baptism, and these two questions especially in the Baptismal Covenant: “Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?” and “Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?” (The Book of Common Prayer, p. 305)

And now Origen has a question for us: “Let us consider, beloved, if there be anyone here that has the taint of leprosy in his soul, or the contamination of guilt in his heart? If he has, instantly adoring God, let him say, ‘Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.’”

Baptism is all about making us clean, as the Celebrant says when blessing the water: “Now sanctify this water, we pray you, by the power of your Holy Spirit, that those who here are cleansed from sin and born again may continue for ever in the risen life of Jesus Christ our Savior.”

I will never again here the story of Naaman’s baptism without the conviction that he was cleansed from both leprosy and sin in the river Jordan; and without remembering Pride and Prejudice.

Later in the book, Elizabeth finally learns the truth about Mr. Darcy:

“She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. ― Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

“‘How despicably have I acted!’ she cried. ― ‘I, who have prided myself on my discernment! ― I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have  . . . gratified my vanity, in useless or blameable distrust. ― How humiliating is this discovery! ― Yet, how just a humiliation! ― Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly.’”

Yet for us as Christians, “love, not vanity, must be our folly.” As the twentieth century Christian mystic Evelyn Underhill wrote:

“Love is always to be recognized and adored, for it is the signature of God lying upon creation; often smudged and faded, almost blotted out, yet legible to the eyes that have been cleansed by prayer. It is the peculiar wisdom of the saints that they can read the letters of the Name wherever found and in whatever script; as Francis read them on the face of the Crucified, in the marred features of the leper, and written in the air by the moving wings of the free birds.”

Thanks be to God.