The Daily Office: John 8:21-32

John 8:21-32

To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, "If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." (John 8:31-32)

"If ye abide in the word which is mine, ye are truly my disciples, and ye will recognize the truth. This perception or knowledge of the truth is more than intellectual or scientific knowledge, for which there is another word; it is the knowledge of acquaintance. Loyal adherence to what they believe will convert that belief to trust; they will advance, so to speak, from being orthodox to being real Christians. And in that trust they will find freedom."*

*From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

The Daily Office: John 7:14-24

John 7:14-24

Jesus said, "Anyone who chooses to do the will of God will find out whether my teaching comes from God or whether I speak on my own." (John 7:17)

"If any man wills – purposeth – to do His will, he shall know concerning the teaching whether it is of God. It is not necessary for this that a man should have reached the point of perfect obedience; but it is necessary that he should intend perfect obedience"*

My comment: There's that word again: perfect. But as was said yesterday, perfection is a process. All Jesus asks is that we try. If we try to follow Jesus's teaching, then we will be guided in the right direction, step by step. One step: that's all Jesus asks of us today, and every day.

Jesus also said, "Stop judging by mere appearances, but instead judge correctly." (John 7:24)

"They would search the scriptures and then try to apply texts to life in meticulous detail. The result was bound to be superficial. Do not judge by looks. Go to the heart of the matter; that is to say, God's purpose expressed in the law and the relation of any action (act and motive together) to that purpose."*

My comment: The Bible is not a set of detailed directions downloaded from Mapquest or Google. It is not a How-To book. It is a story of how God relates to human beings where they are. Of course, we know how the story ends, which should help us understand the theme of the story: God's transforming love in the teaching, death, and rising of Jesus Christ. Always let that be the purpose by which you judge yourself, and others.

*From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

The Daily Office: John 7:1-13

John 7:1-13

Jesus' brothers said to him, "Leave Galilee and go to Judea, so that your disciples there may see the works you do. No one who wants to become a public figure acts in secret. Since you are doing these things, show yourself to the world." For even his own brothers did not believe in him. Therefore Jesus told them, "My time is not yet here." (John 7:3-6a)

"This is not an infrequent exercise in the life of discipleship. We want him to accompany us (so to speak) on some enterprise, and to vindicate what is said on His behalf by us or by others through some success that He enables us to win. But we are left to toil on with no glad sense of His presence as our companion; and at the end we find Him awaiting us with the Prophet's rebuke for our defect of wisdom or of loyalty…Yet that judgement too is mercy; for the goal of the 'call upwards of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:14) is not our service of Him, with which He can easily dispense, but that we should, like Him, 'be perfect as our heavenly father is perfect' (St. Matthew: 5:48)."*

My comment: Understand that to be made "perfect" really means to be made "complete." To be completed is a process. It doesn't happen in the blink of an eye or the snap of a finger. We are all in the process of being competed as disciples of Christ. We who follow Christ, however imperfectly, will be completed. We will become perfect, in our loving Father's good time.

*From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

Saint of the Week: Bartholomew (or Nathanael)

John 1:43-51

The name "Bartholomew" appears in the New Testament only on lists of the names of the twelve apostles. This list normally is given as six pairs, and the third pair in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke is "Philip and Bartholomew"

John gives no list of the Twelve, but refers to more of them individually than the other three. He does not name Bartholomew, but early in his account (John 1:43-50) he tells of the call to discipleship of a Nathaniel who is often supposed to be the same person. The reasoning is as follows: (1) John's Nathanael is introduced as one of the earliest followers of Jesus, and in terms which suggest that he became one of the Twelve. (2) "Bar-tholomew" is a patronymic, meaning "son of Tolmai (or Talmai)." It is therefore likely that he had another name. (3) Nathanael is introduced in John's narrative as a friend of Philip. Since Bartholomew is paired with Philip on three of our four lists of Apostles, it seems likely that they were associated.

Assuming that is the case, then the call of Nathanael described in today's reading from John is also the call of "Bar-tholomew." This son of Israel cared deeply for the future of his people, and refused to give up on God's promises of a Messiah, an "Anointed One" who would bring God's power into this world. Nathanael did not let his skepticism over things coming from Nazareth stop him in his quest. 'Come and see," his friend Philip suggested, and Nathanael did, moving toward the unknown and unfamiliar, trusting that there and only there would he find God.

And when he arrived, he discovered the One who was more than a powerful. He discovered that the "Anointed One" knew Nathanael better than he knew himself. But of course! God made us. As the years go by, we try on various roles that the world assigns us: athlete, businessman, politician, plumber, carpenter, etc. But God knows who we are, to the depths of our hearts. Let us be willing to strip away the roles that have been assigned to us. Then we shall know ourselves as God knows us and loves us.

Pray for us, St. Nathanael, Son of Tolmai, that we may not fear to "come and see" the unknown.

The Daily Office: John 6:52-59

John 6:52-59

After a week of vacationing with my family, I'm back to resume our meditations on John's Gospel, via William Temple. Today's thoughts by Temple are at the heart of why I bid the congregation to stand after receiving communion.

"Then Jesus said unto them 'Amen, Amen, I say to you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, ye have not life in yourselves.'" (John 6:53)

"The phrase would have been quite as startling, even horrifying, to the Jews as well as to ourselves. The blood of animals might not be received as food: 'Be sure thou shalt not eat the blood; for the blood is the life; and thou shalt nor eat the life with the flesh' (Deuteronomy 12,23; cf. Leviticus 17,14-15 and many similar passages)…

"It is clear that the 'Flesh' and the 'Blood' are thought of as separated and separately received. But flesh from which the blood is separated is dead. We receive the Broken Body; we make our own the 'dying of Jesus' (II Corinthians 4,10). Blood, on the other hand, when poured out, is the life released by death and given to God…

"To 'eat the flesh' and to 'drink the blood' of the Son of Man are not the same. The former is to receive the power of self-giving and self-sacrifice to the uttermost. The latter is to receive…the life that is triumphant over death and united to God."*

My comment: We are never more fully alive than just after we have received the Body and Blood and Jesus Christ, through bread and wine. It is a life we are called to take out into the world, marching out of church united in the mission of reconciling all people to God and each other.

*From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

To Always Be Known: Sermon, 16th Week of Ordinary Time

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you and chose you…to uproot and to pull down…to build and to plant." (Jeremiah 1:5,10)

Not to be too melodramatic about it, but when I was five days old, I almost died. It seems that I was born with too much fluid in my lungs. I had nearly suffocated in the hospital. But my parents took me home after 3 days on the doctor's belief that I had gotten it out of my system. But on my fifth day of life, I began to choke again, and my parents rushed me to the emergency room. By the time I arrived, according to my mother, my face looked like one big bruise. I pulled through, and to my mother, who had miscarried two years earlier, I was her "miracle child."

Of course, is that we are all miracle children. Before God formed us in the womb, he already knew who we were. I'm sure that each and every one of us has a story, a memory, from which we know that God, and only God, has protected us, comforted us, encouraged us, and/or guided us. Before our parents had even conceived of us, God knew who we were. We may not have had any physical body yet, but we existed in the mind and heart of God. And God was already looking forward to seeing us grow in faith and love. Parents of grown children have experienced what the parents of younger children can only look ahead to. We have temporary custody of them. We can guide them for, maybe, 17 or 18 years. And then they will begin to discern their own way. But they will not be alone, for the God who conceived of them before we did will always be with them.

Of course, for some of us, our relationship with our parents is more difficult. Some of us were not given a foundation of love and protection from which we could venture out in confident expectation. For those grown children who suffered abuse at the hands of their fathers, the very term, "Father" can become a barrier between themselves and God. But what God tells Jeremiah, and us, is that God was our loving parent before he gave us to our earthly parents. And we should not confuse our earthly parents with our heavenly parent. Through prayer, study, and a community of people brought together in God's name, we can unlearn the dysfunctional rules of relationships we picked up from our earthly parents, and learn something of what it means to be loved, forever and ever, by the Father of us all.

Before we were formed in the womb, God chose us. He consecrated us and made us holy, meaning he set us apart, but for what? We are special, but what is it that makes us special? Well, what did God originally choose Jeremiah for? It was, after all, to this particular man that the word of the LORD came. For what purpose did God set apart Jeremiah? "I give you authority over nations and kingdoms to uproot and to pull down, to destroy and to demolish." No wonder Jeremiah protested that he was too young, that his speaking skills weren't up to snuff. Jeremiah was called to be a prophet. But the message that Jeremiah delivered from God to his fellow Jews was not a positive one. The kingdom of Judah was besieged by more powerful empires bearing down on this tiny kingdom. The people of Judah feared the same genocidal destruction that had fallen on the Northern kingdom of Israel some years earlier.

And what message did God call Jeremiah to deliver. Indeed, their precious Jerusalem and temple were going to be destroyed. And they all deserved the disaster that is coming; for their abandonment of the God who brought them out of bondage in Egypt; for their worship of idols; for their injustice toward each other, and their oppression of the poor. They might as well have surrendered to the Babylonians and hoped for the best. There's no power of positive thinking in Jeremiah's prophecy.

But if we are to claim the promise of God to Jeremiah, "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you and chose you," then we must accept that with that promise comes a call, to action. If God has consecrated us and made us holy, then we must accept that he has set us apart. If God has always known us, then we too are prophets with a task, "to uproot and pull down, to destroy and demolish." We are to look clearly at what is wrong in the world, and point it out, regardless of whom we irritate. As I quoted at the beginning of this sermon, we are also called "to build and to plant." In Jeremiah's case, there was no time for building and planting. He died early in that 70-year period of Jewish history known as the Babylonian Exile. He held out hope that the Jewish people would be replanted in their own land. But he himself died in Egypt.

But at least at the beginning of Jeremiah's prophecy is God's promise to all people. There shall be uprooting, but there shall also be replanting, in God's good time. We are called by God to ask some hard questions, about our community, our nation, our world, and our church. But we need not fear those questions, and the answers we come up with. We need not protest that we are inadequate to the task before us. For God our Father, who has always known us, will always remember us.

Overcoming the Division in our Hearts: Proper 15

Can we just go back to last week's Gospel, please? "Have no fear, little flock, for your Father has already chosen to give you the kingdom." That Jesus is reassuring, calming, comforting. What happened to him? Who is this guy shouting, "I have come to set fire to the earth…Do you suppose that I have establish peace on the earth on the earth? No indeed, I have come to bring division." Didn't the angels announce his birth with the promise of "on earth peace to all in whom he delights"? Yes they did, and yes, Jesus offers the world the peace of God beyond all understanding. But those who share in His peace must also be buried with him in the "baptism," which is his death. And "division" is part of that death in which we are buried with Christ. What Jesus gives us is his peace, which is much more than the absence of conflict. What Jesus will give us is conflict turned into harmony, and a calmness with which we can walk through our divisions in trust.

"I have come to set fire to the earth," Jesus says, "and how I wish it were already kindled!" This actually sounds worse than it really is. Luke is foreshadowing what happens at the beginning of his sequal, Acts of the Apostles, when tongues of fire lit upon the disciples on the day of Pentecost. On that day Jesus's followers became his partners in spreading the "Good News;" or in Greek, euangelion, the root of evangelism. That's all that evangelism is -- spreading Good News.

And yet, and yet, that Good News faces opposition. It has enemies. And those enemies are far too close to home: father against son, mother against daughter. "Do you suppose I came to establish peace on the earth," Jesus asks? "No indeed, I have come to bring division." And where does that division lead? "I have a baptism to undergo, and what constraint I am under until it is accomplished!" To kneel in the Jordan river as John the Baptizer pours water over you is to be immersed. It is to be drowned. It is to die to an old life of guilt and fear. For us, there is no escaping that guilt and fear by our own power. Those emotions cling to our hearts and do not let go, and for us there is no peace apart from Jesus Christ. The Good News is that all our fear and shame was projected onto Jesus, and he took it into his heart and carried it to the Cross, and in that Baptism, buried it forever.

So, when Jesus says today that he did not come to establish peace, we need to remember that in this same Gospel, the angels announcing his birth also announced "peace to all in whom God delights." To the woman who anointed his feet with her tears, Jesus said, "Go in peace." To the woman who touched his cloak and was healed of her hemorrhaging, Jesus said, "Go in peace." So, when Jesus says today that he did not come to establish peace, we need to remember that Jesus knew what a hyperbole was. The word hyperbole actually comes from the Greek word for exaggeration. So Jesus knows how to exaggerate in order to make a point. Jesus offers us peace. But he also knows that this peace faces opposition. Fear and Anxiety are not gone. They still seek to drown the human heart.

And what would Fear and Anxiety have us do? They would have us retreat into ourselves: silently nurse our pain and feel justified in our silent and unspoken hurts. Or they would have us lash out in the heat of our anger at the most convinient target regardless of its relation to our pain. Either way, their goal of keeping us isolated in our hurt and without peace would be "accomplished." But the peace that Jesus Christ brings to our hearts and our relationships is not that peace which is merely the papering over of conflict. What Jesus offers is a peace in which we can trust that opposition and conflict are merely stages of a process, a journey. Along that journey, all we who have been baptized are indeed, "buried with Christ in his death, and by it we share in his Resurrection." That is what we pray over the water every time we baptize someone anew, and renew our own baptism.

Each step that we take along the baptismal journey soothes our fearful, anxious hearts. Each step that we take to be reconciled with each other raises us just a few more feet above the living death of fear and isolation. This doesn't mean that all disagreements will be ended. But the peace that comes with sharing Jesus's Baptism allows us to take those disagreements in stride, secure in the knowledge that through our struggle and confusion, God's purposes will be accomplished. Jesus Christ does indeed come to establish peace on the earth. It starts in each of our hearts, and the warmth of that fire will warm and enlighten corners of our world that we cannot yet imagine. O Jesus, set our hearts on fire!

The Daily Office: John 4:27-42

John 4:27-42

So the woman left her water-pot and went away into the city. (John 4:28)

"She left her water-pot, so she meant to come back. It is one of the graphic touches which strongly suggest the eye-witness. The Evangelist records what the disciples saw."*

Meanwhile his disciples urged him, "Rabbi, eat something." But he said to them, "I have food to eat that you know nothing about…My food," said Jesus, "is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work. Don't you have a saying, 'It's still four months until harvest'? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. (John 4:31-35)

"They had left the Lord weary beside the spring…But his mood is changed. He has a refreshment of which they do not know…In the soul of the woman and in the influence that she is gone to exert, a work of God is manifest; the doing of that is his refreshment. And how rapid is the response! – as though sowing and reaping were telescoped together."*

*From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

Forward Day by Day

Just a reminder. Click on "Forward Day by Day," to the right side of the blog, under Internet Favorites, and that will take you to a brief meditation on one of the daily scripture readings. The meditations are automatically updated each day. I want to offer as many opportunities as possible to immerse yourself in prayer and the Word.

The Daily Office: John 4:1-26

John 4:1-26

"Jesus saith to her, Give me to drink." (John 4:7)

"The way to call anyone into fellowship with us is, not to offer then service, which is liable to arouse the resistance of their pride, but to ask service from them. Of course, the request must be prompted by a real need. The Lord was actually tired and thirsty when He said Give me to drink, and drew the woman into conversation by asking her for help. So social workers have found that they cannot bridge the gulf digged by their education so long as they live in a style different from their neighbours and offer service. But all is changed when they adopt the manner of life familiar in the neighbourhood and share its needs."

*From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

Saint of the Week: Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr

John 12:24-26

Lawrence was a deacon in the Church of Rome in the middle of the 3rd century. Then, as now, vocational deacons were principally servants, of their Bishop and the needy. Deacon Lawrence was, in effect, the chief financial officer of the Diocese of Rome, when a persecution broke out in August of the year 258.

The early Church was not constantly persecuted. In fact, the Church might live in peace for decades, accumulating members, money, and buildings. In this persecution, the Roman Emperor targeted the leaders of the Church and its wealthiest members. They were all executed, including Pope Sixtus the Second. Only Lawrence was spared. The Emperor promised to spare him if he would hand over the "treasures" of the Church.

Lawrence agreed and asked for three days to gather those "treasures" together. Over those three days, Lawrence found all the sick and poor whom he had assisted. At the end of the three days, he brought them all to the Emperor. Where is the treasure of the Church, the Emperor demanded? Pointing to all those around him, Lawrence replied, here is the treasure of the Church. Enraged, the Emperor had Lawrence roasted on a gridiron, according to tradition.

For Deacon Lawrence, nothing was more important than giving of one's self to others. Giving of himself was more important than his life. When he could have given up someone else's money, nor his own, Lawrence chose instead to give up his life. He trusted Jesus, that if his single grain of life fell and died, it would continue to bear much fruit.

We human beings, it seems, live in a world of getting. If we give, it is only with the expectation of getting something equal to the gift. But Lawrence understood that the God who created this world, then gave himself through His Son, is a Giver before all else. Whether he gets something in return is irrelevant. This world is a gift. Our lives are a gift. Our lives will always change, sometimes not for the better. But like the grain that dies, the gift is transformed.

God's gift of love remains, always and forever. Lawrence trusted the Giver. So can we.

The Daily Office: John 3:1-21

John 3:1-21

"So we come to the central declaration, more central for Christian faith than even The Word became flesh…But here is the whole great truth. God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that everyone that believeth on him may not perish, but have eternal life. This is the heart of the Gospel. Not 'God is Love' – a precious truth, but affirming no divine act for our redemption. God so loved that he gave; of course the words indicate the cost to the Father's heart. He gave; it was an act, not only a continuing mood of generosity; it was an act at a particular time and place."

*From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

Fearless Hearts: Proper 14, Year C

"Have no fear, little flock, for your Father has already chosen to give you the kingdom."

Three times in this 12th chapter of Luke's Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples not to be afraid. Of course if you have to keep telling someone not to be afraid, that's a pretty good sign that they are afraid. Last week, we saw Jesus confronted with one of the anxieties of everyday life. "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me." Apparently, this brother is not happy with the way his father's estate is being handled. Perhaps one judge has already judged how the property has been divided, but this brother isn't happy with the decision. So perhaps he figures that if he can draw Jesus into this family dispute, then he will get an opinion more to his liking. Of course, the family will then have dueling judges. Maybe they'll listen to Jesus, maybe they won't. The brother with a grievance may not actually get any more money than he had before. But at least he might have an opinion more to his liking. He may be no wealthier than before, but at least he'll feel better, perhaps.

Faced with the brother's anxiety, Jesus has to go back to the basics. This brother and those hearing him need to get reacquainted with the reality of what they can and can't control, and the treasure they should look for that has already been given to them. Between last week's reading and today's, Jesus told his disciples the famous parable of the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. "This is why I tell you not to worry about food to keep you alive or clothes to cover your body...Can anxious thought add a day to your life? If then, you cannot do even a very little thing, why worry about the rest?"

Think of all the things that weigh on our minds throughout the waking day and restless night. How many of those things do we actually have the power to change? Relationships: employment: jobs? When it comes to all those things we worry about, we have two options. We can grasp or we can give. We can either grasp at those things we are anxious about, or we can give up control of them. But if what we're grasping at is something we can't control; then the only alternative to the anxiety that leads us to grasp what we cannot control is to give up what we can control. We certainly have some control over our food and clothing. But it is those things that we can control, which Jesus warns us not to be anxious about. Why, because those are the least important things. "Set your minds on his kingdom," Jesus told his disciples, "and the rest will come to you as well."

So, the one thing that Jesus says does matter, is the one thing we have no control over. But there is nothing more valuable, and best of all, God has already chosen to give it to us. "Have no fear, little flock, for your Father has already chosen to give you the kingdom." But where is that kingdom? What territory does it control? Where are its borders? To ask those questions reduces God's kingdom to just another empire among all the empires that human beings conquer, build up, and then watch as they inevitably decline and fall. In truth, God already rules this world. But it is not a rule that God imposes with an iron fist from above. He rules from our hearts that are free from fear. When we can relax in the knowledge that God's love will outlast every empire based on power, then God rules from our fearless hearts. When we stop grasping at any straw to persuade us that we have some control, then God rules from our fearless hearts. When reaching out becomes more important than self-protection, then God rules from our fearless hearts.

God rules. Can we trust in that as much as we trust in our next paycheck? Can we wait for God's rule to bloom in our hearts and the world around us? "Have no fear, little flock, for your Father has already chosen to give you the kingdom."

The Transfiguration of Our Lord

2nd Peter: 13-21

The Church seems to be of two minds about when to celebrate the Transfiguration of Jesus Christ. We celebrate it twice in the liturgical year: always on the Sunday before Ash Wednesday, and on August 6. The reason for the first date is clear enough from the context in which it happened. Jesus was transfigured after his first prediction of his crucifixion. So it makes sense for us to remember the Transfiguration before we each embark on our personal way of the Cross during Lent.

But the Orthodox Christian churches of the East have always had a deeper understanding of this momentous event. They have for centuries celebrated this feast on August 6. The Western churches were much later in adopting this date. But the Transfiguration was more than a precursor to the Cross. It was not, as it is written in 2nd Peter, a "cleverly devised myth." It was not one of those spiritual experiences that we might know to be true in a subjective sense. As Eugene Peterson puts it in The Message, "we were there for the preview" (2 Peter 1:16). The Transfiguration was the preview of that day when the glory of God's Son will shine so bright that there will be no mistaking who He is: God!

The Transfiguration is our "preview." Which is why we pray today that, beholding our Transfigured Lord through his "chosen witnesses," we will be "delivered from the disquietude of this world." This world gives us many reasons to be anxious. But they don't hold a candle to peace that comes from knowing that such a dazzling light as shone around Jesus will not burn, but warm us. So confess those anxieties. In the quietness of your heart, bring them to the "holy mount." Let the dazzling white light burn them out of your heart. All that will be left will be that knowledge that Jesus is the Lover-King of all things. Behold Him!

The Daily Office: How Deep Does Jesus Know Us

John 1:43-51

"Behold, truly an Israelite. The Lord's greeting presupposes that Nathanael had gone under the fig-tree to meditate. While there he had been wrestling with God. This new movement, this new teacher – are they to be welcomed as from God?...and so long ago Jacob the supplanter had wrestled with God and had one the new name Israel (Genesis 32:24-29). The Lord hails this son of Israel as one in whom the Jacob-element of guile is not to be found.

"Whence thou knowest me? How can you so intimately enter into my secret thoughts?

"Before Philip called thee. My sympathy had reached you before your friend broke in with the news that so strangely chimed in with your thoughts."*

With what, or who, are you wrestling with in your life? Might it really be Jesus with whom you are wrestling? If so, rejoice, for that is how close your Lord and Savior is to you.

*From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

The Daily Office: John 1:29-42

John 1:29-42

The first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, "We have found the Messiah" (that is, the Christ). And he brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said, "You are Simon son of John. You will be called Cephas" (which, when translated, is Peter). (John 1:41-42)

"He findeth first his own brother" and so became the first missionary. We do not know much about Andrew; but we know a great deal about his brother, and he was Andrew's convert. Who shall say that Peter did more for His Lord than Andrew who brought Peter to Him? It is ever so. We never know who is doing the greatest work for God. Here is a man who holds great office in the Church and preaches to multitudes; yet at the end, all he has done is to keep things from falling back. And there is a girl, poor and uneducated, of whom no one ever thinks; but because she is loving and devout she sows the seed of life in a child entrusted to her care who grows up to be a missionary pioneer, or Christian statesman, or profound theologian – shaping the history of nations or the thought of generations. Andrew "findeth his own brother"; perhaps it is as great a service to the Church as ever any man did.

From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

The Daily Office: John 1:19-28

This is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent to him priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, "Who are you?" And he confessed and did not deny, but confessed, "I am not the Christ." They asked him, "What then ? Are you Elijah?" And he said, "I am not." "Are you the Prophet ?" And he answered, "No." (John 1:19-21)

"[John] is impatient at these enquiries concerning his personality. We see his growing irritation in the increasing abruptness of his replies. 'I am not the Christ'; 'I am not'; 'No.' It is not who he is, but what he says that matters. He is a voice...

"John is here the type of all Christian witness…If ever our witness begins to be about ourselves or to make ourselves very prominent something is going wrong with it. We may mention our own experience – 'O come hither and hearken all ye that fear God and I will tell you what he hath done for my soul' – but only a s a means of pointing men to Christ. It is not ourselves but our witness to Him for which we want to claim attention."

From Readings in St. John's Gospel, by Archbishop William Temple

The Daily Office: John 1:1-18

"What came to be in it [the Word] was Life, and the Life was the light of men, and the light shineth in the darkness, and the darkness did not absorb it" (John 1:4-5)

Today, the Daily Office Lectionary begins to take us through the Gospel of John. As we read through John's Gospel, I'm going to offer the thoughts of William Temple, who was the Archbishop of Canterbury during the Second World War. He wrote my favorite commentary on John's Gospel. Unfortunately, it appears to be out of print. But I'm glad to share at least a few of his insights. Here's some of what he wrote on the verses quoted above.

"Imagine yourself standing on some headland in a dark night. At the foot of the headland is a lighthouse or beacon, not casting rays on every side, but throwing one bar of light through the darkness…The divine light shines through the darkness of the world, cleaving it, but neither dispelling it nor quenched by it…The darkness in no sense at all received the light; yet the light shone still undimmed…Take any moment of history and you find light piercing unillumined darkness…The company of those who stand in the beam of light by which the path of true progress for that time is discerned is always small."

Small? Perhaps. But if you're reading this today, then we stand together.

Remembering Even When it Hurts: Proper 13: Hosea 11

When my son was about 7, he had the habit of not locking up his bicycle when he went to see one of his friends. One day, when I noticed his unlocked bike at a friend's apartment, I decided to teach him a lesson. I took his bike back to our apartment. A few minutes later, I came back outside and saw him wailing, literally wailing. To this day, I remember the stab I felt in my heart. Why should I have put myself, my son's father, in the place of a thief just to teach him a lesson? Some years later, I wrote him a letter while he and his church youth group were in Scotland on a pilgrimage. In that letter, I brought up my worst moment as a parent, and asked for his forgiveness. When his plane landed, and we all hugged and made our way home, he said that, actually, he had forgotten the incident.

Of course, some of the things he does remember about our relationship are things that I have forgotten. That's how it always seems with human parents and human children. An offhand comment by a parent about money lingers on in the child who remains fearful about money long after the offhand remark that sparked it. Selective memory, on both sides, is a powerful and sometimes destructive force in the parent-child relationship.

But the God revealed through the prophet Hosea has no selective memory. God remembers everything, which explains the agony that God feels in his heart. "When Israel was a child, I loved him like a child, and called him out of Egypt." God saw a child reduced to back-breaking slavery, a child whose only value to his Egyptian owner was the use that could be made of him, until worn down, that slave child would be replaced by another slave child seized by the Egyptian empire. And so God the loving Father called this child out of Egypt. And like a mother who encourages her toddler, "It was I who taught Israel to walk. It was I who pampered them, sweeping my children up into my arms."

But on this day, God is suffering from a broken heart. For his child has much more than a selective memory. Israel has completely forgotten the father/mother who gave him his life: "The more I called them, the further away they went. They offered their sacrifices to Baal, whom they thought would give them rain. And they burned incense to carved images of their own making and called them gods." This is what Hosea saw in the northern kingdom of Israel, where 10 of the 12 tribes of Israel lived. He saw that the people of the LORD had turned away from the God who had brought them out of Egypt. Instead, they were trying to appease the local gods of the earth, the rain, the crops, as though enough sacrifices to them would give them a good harvest in the spring.

And rather than trusting in the LORD for their security, Israel kept trying to appease the bigger, more powerful empires of the region: Assyria to the north, Egypt to the south. Idolatry at home, lack of trust in the LORD's protection abroad: The LORD kept calling, and his children kept running. So why not leave them to their fate? Let the sword rage against the cities of Israel, break down the gates of their fortresses and devour their children. Let the cities of Israel be like Admah and Zeboiim, whose destruction was as total as that of Sodom and Gomorrah. After all, actions must have consequences. Injustice must be punished, or else justice is a meaningless word, and the LORD who claims to be the world's righteous judge might as well admit that his justice has no power to back it up.

God seems pretty committed to seeing his justice done. But suddenly, the sword reaches his heart. "How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I surrender you, O Israel? My heart recoils at the thought of your destruction. Yes, my anger burns within me. But at the same time, compassion warms my heart with the memories of better days, and the hope that they will yet return." What are we to make of a God who, like every other parent, can't seem to figure out whether to hug his child or throttle them? Isn't God supposed to be beyond human passions? If God can be so hurt by our actions, then how can God be all-powerful?

"I will not execute my burning anger," God says, precisely because, "I am God, and not human, The Holy One among you." Because God is all-powerful, he is not bound by the man-made rule of an eye for an eye. Because God is all-knowing, his love is never blinded by anger. God will never forget the love he has invested in us. And looking forward to the future, God will always leave the door open to forgiveness, redemption and new life. To us sinners standing under judgment, God's grace may sometimes sound like the roar of a lion as we face the truth of ourselves and our sin. But the Lion will not devour us.

What beautiful images Hosea was inspired to give us of our God. There's just one complication. Perhaps in Hosea's lifetime, certainly not long after his inspired prophesying, the worst that could happen did happen. Assyria swept down into Israel, brought the northern kingdom to an end, and created the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel. Everything that God seems to say he wouldn't do ended up happening. Did God forget them? What hope of return can there be for the Lost? Unless they were never really lost.

The public TV science series NOVA once had a program on the Ten Lost Tribes. From southern Africa to Japan, you find peoples who claim to be descended from the Lost Tribes. They have customs that are unlike their African or Asian neighbors, but are consistent with the customs of Israel. Unlike their polytheistic neighbors, they worship one God. In the case of the Lemba tribe in Zimbabwe, DNA testing actually links them to the Jewish people. And so have the scattered children of Israel carried in their memories their faith in the one God, the LORD, who has always remembered his children.

Closer to home, our own children have scattered, or will do so eventually, of their own accord. But the children of Israel carried their God in their memories, and our children will carry the best parts of us in their memories. Kingdoms will crumble and fall. But wherever God calls us, we take with us the best of what God has given us. And we look forward in hope and anticipation. With a roar, our God calls us home, as he called the Lost Tribes, to homes they could never have imagined on their own; but homes they are. And so, let us go with trembling in the direction from which the roar comes. None of us knows what that home looks like. But the God, who taught us to walk together in faith, knows what our home looks like. And what a beautiful home it will be.