If you didn’t already know, we have lot of Epiphany left. Ash Wednesday isn’t until the ninth of March this year. And Easter Sunday falls this year on April 24th. Easter can’t fall any later than the 25th of April. So this is about as late as Easter can come. That is a blessing for us this year. Easter will fall on the one-year anniversary of the tornado. And Bishop Kee Sloan will be with us that Sunday. By then, our new sanctuary will be under construction, so we will see the new Christ Church being raised from the old.
In the meantime, we have this long season after the Feast of the Epiphany, which might also be called the Teaching season, or the Discipleship season. On the Feast of the Epiphany, the Christ Child was revealed to the Three Wise Men, and by extension, to all the nations of the world beyond the people of Israel. In this long season after Epiphany, this revelation continues as the child becomes a man, and begins his teaching ministry. And as Jesus begins his teaching ministry, so we are called to begin a season of discipleship. The word disciple means “student.” And so we all are, students walking with Jesus, hearing his words, and puzzling together over their meaning.
Today we begin that teaching with what is called The Sermon on the Mount. I warn you that our Teacher will indeed puzzle us. And probably no part of this Sermon on the Mount is more puzzling than the beginning that we hear today, the Beatitudes or Blessings.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who know their need of God. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are the meek and humble. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness and justice. Blessed are the merciful, who don’t do it to others before others do it to them. Blessed are the peacemakers. Blessed are those who are persecuted and killed for the sake of righteousness and justice. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on His account. What sense does any of this make? What can we possibly learn that’s going to do any of us any good in the real world. What sort of self-help is this?
In this brief time left, let me offer two thoughts which I can only pray will make the Beatitudes more than an unobtainable ideal in your eyes. First; Jesus demands nothing of you in these Beatitudes. Never does he say that if you do this, then you will be blessed. Time and time again, He says that you are blessed, right here, right now. And second, those blessings are as close to you as the brother or sister on your right and your left.
Jesus says that you are already blessed, simply because you are poor in spirit. Well who among us has never come to the end of our rope and known that all we could do is throw ourselves at God’s feet? We are blessed because God picks us up. Who among us has never mourned? We all mourn with each other, and in our shared grief we are blessed. Who among us does not ache at the injustice of the world? Working together against that injustice, we are blessed. Who among us has not felt the fear of standing alone as the target of someone else’s wrath? God himself felt that wrath, and together with Him we are blessed.
So we are all blessed in the midst of our pain. Yet there is a risk in the blessing. For those blessings are found in the people through whom God comforts us, gives us mercy, and stands with us in our trials. And we only receive those blessings when we let those people see our poverty of spirit, our grief, our anger and our fear. These blessings are ours when we are vulnerable, to God, and to each other. It is in the vulnerability that we find the blessing.
It’s only when I take the risk of reaching out, when I make a connection to another human person that I realize how blessed I have been, from the Florida of my childhood, to the Carolina of my college years, to the Virginia of my early adulthood, and now to my newest brothers and sisters in Alabama. Through my joys and my losses, through those I have loved and lost, I have been blessed. I sensed all that yesterday looking out over the lake in Guntersville on a beautiful day that reminded me of the John Denver song, in which God sings to all of us:
Welcome to my morning. Welcome to my day. I’m the one responsible. I made it just this way…Welcome to my happiness. I know it makes me smile. And it pleases me to have you here for just a little while, while we open up some spaces and try to break some chains.
What a beautiful day it was! And what a beautiful day everyday is when the people of God try to break the chains of fear and shame and anger that keep us isolated from each other. Blessed are you when you at the end of your rope. Blessed are you who mourn. Blessed are you who are afraid. Blessed are you who are angry. For that blessing is just an outreached hand away.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Time to Follow: 3rd Sunday after Epiphany
It was said of Robert E. Lee that he kept his heart safe from the picklocks of biographers. That hasn't stopped them from trying. But when we come to the “biographies” of Jesus, we have an even bigger issue. Jesus' biographers weren't much interested in showing us His heart. They weren't even all that interested in giving their readers a comprehensive chronology of Jesus' life. Getting inside a great person’s mind: knowing exactly where they were at every point in their life: those are what we modern people demand of biographies. But the authors of the four Gospels had no desire to paint a psychological portrait of Jesus, or to create a coherent timeline of his life.
That leaves us with accounts of Jesus' life that look incomplete, and even contradictory. In last week's Gospel reading from John, we heard one account of how Andrew and Peter were called by Jesus to be His disciples. There we were told that Andrew left John the Baptist to “come and see” where Jesus was staying. And after a time of conversation and reflection, Andrew then brought Jesus to Simon Peter. But today Matthew shows no coming and seeing, no conversation and reflection. You could easily get the impression from Matthew’s Gospel that Simon and Andrew had never laid eyes on Jesus until that moment by the sea. In Matthew’s version of Jesus calling the two brothers, there is only the irresistable call of Jesus to “Follow me.”
Are these two accounts actually contradictory? I don't believe so. But the authors of these Gospels were not interested in giving us a consistent timeline of Jesus' life. They were much more concerned with what they considered the significance of Jesus' words and actions. John and Matthew show us two sides of Christian discipleship: reflection and action. There is a time, as Jesus said last Sunday, to “come and see.” And there is a time, as Jesus says this Sunday, to “follow me.”
So at first there was Andrew, who had already left his brother Simon with their fishing boat to follow and be taught by John the Baptist. There had to be a purpose to his life that went beyond a fishing business. He longed for the liberation of his people Israel from the oppression and sin and slavery. He had thought that John the Baptist was the herald, the announcer of that liberation. And so he learned all he could from John about God's loving purpose for himself and his people.
But then he saw and heard his mentor point to Jesus as the Lamb of God. Andrew may not have been sure what that meant. But he and another of John's disciples had the courage to leave the home they had made with their teacher John and ask this new teacher, “Where are you staying?” And when this new teacher invited them to “come and see,” they came, and saw, and heard. And they felt a warmth in their hearts they had never felt before in their lives. In his excitement, Andrew even got his brother Simon to take a break from his fishing and come south from Capernaum to meet this Jesus. Imagine Simon's surprise when this teacher gives him a new name, Peter the “Rock.”
And then suddenly, Jesus leaves them and wanders off into the desert east of the Jordan River. We know from Matthew’s Gospel that after his baptism by John in the Jordan, Jesus was led into the desert, and tempted by God’s enemy, Satan. Jesus wasn’t quite ready to begin his public ministry in earnest. He still needed to get some clarity about God’s purpose for Him. Of course that left Andrew and Peter hanging. Andrew couldn’t just go back to John. But at that point, he couldn’t go forward with Jesus either. What else could those two brothers do but go back to what they knew – fishing.
Jesus then emerges from the desert, and hears of John’s arrest. The Jordan is very close to Jerusalem, to the powers that be. They have already arrested John, and they would likely arrest any prophet that dared to take his place. So what is Jesus to do? He goes north to Capernaum, where for now he can escape the notice of the powerful. And in Capernaum are Andrew and Peter, and John, the other disciple who joined Andrew in leaving John to follow Jesus, and his brother James. Those pairs of brothers, and Jesus himself, have all had time to reflect on God’s purposes for them. The time for decision has come.
“Follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will show you how to fish for people.” Leave your boats, your livelihoods, your families, whatever you hold dearest. And Jesus will give it back to you in ways that you can’t understand now. Are you good at catching fish? Jesus will teach you how to catch people from falling into loneliness and despair. Are you a tailor who is good at helping people look their best on the outside? Jesus will teach you to help them feel their best on the inside. Do you help people process information, in computerized and other forms? Jesus will teach you the most important information of all: how to live in love with all your fellow human beings. Are you a soldier? Jesus will teach you His great cause of restoring all people to unity with God and each other.
There is a time, as Jesus says, to “come and see.” And there is a time, as Jesus says, to “follow me.” There is a time to reflect on who we need to catch. And there is a time to just do it. I wonder how big our catch will be.
That leaves us with accounts of Jesus' life that look incomplete, and even contradictory. In last week's Gospel reading from John, we heard one account of how Andrew and Peter were called by Jesus to be His disciples. There we were told that Andrew left John the Baptist to “come and see” where Jesus was staying. And after a time of conversation and reflection, Andrew then brought Jesus to Simon Peter. But today Matthew shows no coming and seeing, no conversation and reflection. You could easily get the impression from Matthew’s Gospel that Simon and Andrew had never laid eyes on Jesus until that moment by the sea. In Matthew’s version of Jesus calling the two brothers, there is only the irresistable call of Jesus to “Follow me.”
Are these two accounts actually contradictory? I don't believe so. But the authors of these Gospels were not interested in giving us a consistent timeline of Jesus' life. They were much more concerned with what they considered the significance of Jesus' words and actions. John and Matthew show us two sides of Christian discipleship: reflection and action. There is a time, as Jesus said last Sunday, to “come and see.” And there is a time, as Jesus says this Sunday, to “follow me.”
So at first there was Andrew, who had already left his brother Simon with their fishing boat to follow and be taught by John the Baptist. There had to be a purpose to his life that went beyond a fishing business. He longed for the liberation of his people Israel from the oppression and sin and slavery. He had thought that John the Baptist was the herald, the announcer of that liberation. And so he learned all he could from John about God's loving purpose for himself and his people.
But then he saw and heard his mentor point to Jesus as the Lamb of God. Andrew may not have been sure what that meant. But he and another of John's disciples had the courage to leave the home they had made with their teacher John and ask this new teacher, “Where are you staying?” And when this new teacher invited them to “come and see,” they came, and saw, and heard. And they felt a warmth in their hearts they had never felt before in their lives. In his excitement, Andrew even got his brother Simon to take a break from his fishing and come south from Capernaum to meet this Jesus. Imagine Simon's surprise when this teacher gives him a new name, Peter the “Rock.”
And then suddenly, Jesus leaves them and wanders off into the desert east of the Jordan River. We know from Matthew’s Gospel that after his baptism by John in the Jordan, Jesus was led into the desert, and tempted by God’s enemy, Satan. Jesus wasn’t quite ready to begin his public ministry in earnest. He still needed to get some clarity about God’s purpose for Him. Of course that left Andrew and Peter hanging. Andrew couldn’t just go back to John. But at that point, he couldn’t go forward with Jesus either. What else could those two brothers do but go back to what they knew – fishing.
Jesus then emerges from the desert, and hears of John’s arrest. The Jordan is very close to Jerusalem, to the powers that be. They have already arrested John, and they would likely arrest any prophet that dared to take his place. So what is Jesus to do? He goes north to Capernaum, where for now he can escape the notice of the powerful. And in Capernaum are Andrew and Peter, and John, the other disciple who joined Andrew in leaving John to follow Jesus, and his brother James. Those pairs of brothers, and Jesus himself, have all had time to reflect on God’s purposes for them. The time for decision has come.
“Follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will show you how to fish for people.” Leave your boats, your livelihoods, your families, whatever you hold dearest. And Jesus will give it back to you in ways that you can’t understand now. Are you good at catching fish? Jesus will teach you how to catch people from falling into loneliness and despair. Are you a tailor who is good at helping people look their best on the outside? Jesus will teach you to help them feel their best on the inside. Do you help people process information, in computerized and other forms? Jesus will teach you the most important information of all: how to live in love with all your fellow human beings. Are you a soldier? Jesus will teach you His great cause of restoring all people to unity with God and each other.
There is a time, as Jesus says, to “come and see.” And there is a time, as Jesus says, to “follow me.” There is a time to reflect on who we need to catch. And there is a time to just do it. I wonder how big our catch will be.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
The Confession of Saint Peter: To Loosen
“I’ll give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Anything you fasten on earth will be fastened in heaven. Anything you loosen on earth will be loosened in heaven. ” (Matthew 16:19, Common English Bible)
Today, January 18th, is the Feast of St. Peter’s Confession, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus’ reply to Peter includes the words quoted above. Unfortunately, those words have been taken by the Church as more a grant of power over peoples’ lives than an opportunity to empower people. In other words, I suspect that too many leaders of the Church have focused more on their power to “fasten” obligations to peoples’ backs than to loosen unnecessary burdens.
Of course, some might believe that Church and society have of late been too lax, too ready to let people off the hook. And perhaps unsurprisingly, much of that debate has centered around sex. A recent study indicates that increasingly, the legal institution of marriage is one that only the wealthy can sustain. In what the study’s authors call “Middle America,” divorce and cohabitation are now more common than among the richest and best educated Americans.
Why? Is it for what the authors call “cultural” reasons, a breakdown of traditional values that leave too many people with no moral reason to sustain a committed relationship? Or is it because marriages are easier to sustain when money is not a central source of conflict? And what does the Church have to say to men and women navigating through the rocks of unstable relationships, children born out of wedlock, and “blended” families with step-parents. How much should the Church fasten to the shoulders of middle American men and women?
In the Episcopal Church’s Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage, the Priest begins by declaring: “The bond and covenant of marriage was established by God in creation.” If “marriage” was established by God in the very creation of human beings, then there has always been “marriage,” in which men and women commit their bodies and their talents and gifts to each other. In other words, there was “marriage” before Christianity existed. And wherever men and women make a home together, they have, in the order of “creation,” married each other.
In medieval Europe, the Church considered any marriage valid as long as two witnesses verified that the man and woman mutually consented to the marriage. It would be valid in the eyes of the Church even if no clergy were present. And in the Book of Common Prayer, the wedding ceremony is entitled, “The Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage.” The people celebrate the marriage. The Priest blesses the marriage. But it is the man and woman who actually make the marriage, not the Priest.
So what’s the difference between a marriage of “creation” and Christian marriage? The difference is laid out in the Letter of Paul to the Ephesians. “As for husbands, love your wives just like Christ loved the church and gave himself for her… No one ever hates his own body, but feeds it and takes care of it just like Christ does for the church because we are parts of his body… Marriage is a significant mystery, and I’m applying it to Christ and the church.” (5:25,29-30,32).
When men and women “fall out of love,” what will keep their marriages together, except Him who chose to love us sinners for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health? That is the kind of marriage which the Church needs to help “middle Americans” enter into and sustain. But the Church can’t do that if it fastens that as an obligation on men and women who aren’t able to sustain it. The Church should not fasten a culture war over marriage to the shoulders of its casualties.
Let the Church instead loosen the burden of thinking you have to be already perfect in order to enter the church and be sustained by its sacraments. Let us meet halfway those who are married in the order of creation, patiently affirm them in their relationships, and gently help them move toward the Cross, in which marriage is perfected. Let the Church be known for its power to loosen, rather than fasten.
Today, January 18th, is the Feast of St. Peter’s Confession, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus’ reply to Peter includes the words quoted above. Unfortunately, those words have been taken by the Church as more a grant of power over peoples’ lives than an opportunity to empower people. In other words, I suspect that too many leaders of the Church have focused more on their power to “fasten” obligations to peoples’ backs than to loosen unnecessary burdens.
Of course, some might believe that Church and society have of late been too lax, too ready to let people off the hook. And perhaps unsurprisingly, much of that debate has centered around sex. A recent study indicates that increasingly, the legal institution of marriage is one that only the wealthy can sustain. In what the study’s authors call “Middle America,” divorce and cohabitation are now more common than among the richest and best educated Americans.
Why? Is it for what the authors call “cultural” reasons, a breakdown of traditional values that leave too many people with no moral reason to sustain a committed relationship? Or is it because marriages are easier to sustain when money is not a central source of conflict? And what does the Church have to say to men and women navigating through the rocks of unstable relationships, children born out of wedlock, and “blended” families with step-parents. How much should the Church fasten to the shoulders of middle American men and women?
In the Episcopal Church’s Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage, the Priest begins by declaring: “The bond and covenant of marriage was established by God in creation.” If “marriage” was established by God in the very creation of human beings, then there has always been “marriage,” in which men and women commit their bodies and their talents and gifts to each other. In other words, there was “marriage” before Christianity existed. And wherever men and women make a home together, they have, in the order of “creation,” married each other.
In medieval Europe, the Church considered any marriage valid as long as two witnesses verified that the man and woman mutually consented to the marriage. It would be valid in the eyes of the Church even if no clergy were present. And in the Book of Common Prayer, the wedding ceremony is entitled, “The Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage.” The people celebrate the marriage. The Priest blesses the marriage. But it is the man and woman who actually make the marriage, not the Priest.
So what’s the difference between a marriage of “creation” and Christian marriage? The difference is laid out in the Letter of Paul to the Ephesians. “As for husbands, love your wives just like Christ loved the church and gave himself for her… No one ever hates his own body, but feeds it and takes care of it just like Christ does for the church because we are parts of his body… Marriage is a significant mystery, and I’m applying it to Christ and the church.” (5:25,29-30,32).
When men and women “fall out of love,” what will keep their marriages together, except Him who chose to love us sinners for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health? That is the kind of marriage which the Church needs to help “middle Americans” enter into and sustain. But the Church can’t do that if it fastens that as an obligation on men and women who aren’t able to sustain it. The Church should not fasten a culture war over marriage to the shoulders of its casualties.
Let the Church instead loosen the burden of thinking you have to be already perfect in order to enter the church and be sustained by its sacraments. Let us meet halfway those who are married in the order of creation, patiently affirm them in their relationships, and gently help them move toward the Cross, in which marriage is perfected. Let the Church be known for its power to loosen, rather than fasten.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
2nd Sunday after Epiphany
And so we are told that John was standing with two of his disciples as Jesus walked by them. We learn later that one of those disciples was Andrew, the brother of Peter. But we are not told who the other disciple was. Personally I think it was the disciple who never claimed anything for himself, except that he was the “disciple whom Jesus loved.” To be a student, or disciple, of Jesus Christ is not a chore to be accomplished. It is a relationship of love that grows in knowledge and deepens in love over time. And there is nothing more important for student-disciples to learn from this teacher than how to love.
At this point in our story Andrew and this other student are not disciples of Jesus, but students of John the Baptist. Even after His Resurrection and Ascension, there remained disciples of John who considered him to be more important than Jesus. They couldn't make the same transition from John to Jesus. They loved the home they had made for themselves out of John's words, John's truth. And even after John's death, they were never able to leave that home.
What had they, and Andrew and this other student, learned from John? They had learned that John was like the Old Testament prophet Isaiah who cried in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord. They had learned that the people of Israel needed to repent, to change their hearts and their lives. They had learned that someone mightier and more worthy than John was coming. And while John poured water for repentance of sin, he would pour out fire and spirit in a blazing judgment of sin.
And so Andrew, the other disciple and presumably all the other students hanging on John's words, hear him say, "Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world?" So why do only two of John's students follow Jesus? Perhaps it's because John the teacher's answers have only raised more questions. The Greek word translated, "take away," does have that meaning. But it can also mean, "To take up." In some Jewish apocalyptic writings, the Lamb of God is a triumphant figure who crushes the enemies of Israel who have oppressed her under his hooves. But in the Old Testament, the Passover lamb was the animal sacrificed to God, and whose blood was spread on the doors of the oppressed Israelites in Egypt. That was how the spirit of death knew to pass by the Israelites as it claimed the firstborn of Egypt.
So which is it? Is this Jesus the one to take away the sin of the world, to take it on himself, or both? Is he the avenger, the sacrifice, or both? John doesn't answer those questions. The only one who can answer is walking away, maybe to never return. So what are John's students to do? Should they stay with John, from whom they have learned much, and with whom they have found rest and comfort in their familiar relationship? Or do they take their teacher's last lesson to heart, follow after Jesus and start to relearn what it means to be a child of Israel and a child of God?
Is it really all that surprising that only two of John's disciple-students had the courage to follow Jesus and ask Him what He meant? Discipleship isn't easy. Being a student isn't easy. It means having to ask a lot of questions about a lot of unfamiliar knowledge, assuming you can even formulate the questions in your mind. If your teacher is particularly irritating, it means suddenly having to answer his or her questions. "What are you looking for?" Jesus turns and asks Andrew and this other former student of John's. They respond as truthfully as they can. They have left the familiar teachings of their previous teacher. So from their insecurity they ask Jesus, "Teacher, where are you staying tonight, for it is nearly 4 o'clock and we don't know where to go." To which their new teacher smiles and answers, "Come and you will see."
Christian disciplship is more than getting a few answers right on a test. Being a student of Jesus Christ is so much more than collecting proof texts from the Bible. It is a lifelong journey and process of asking questions, receiving answers and asking the questions that flow from those answers. There is joy and wonder in the answers we receive. There is joy and wonder in the questions those answers inspire us to ask. But the greatest joy and wonder of Christian learning is that it is not something we do alone. Come and see, Jesus promises us, and you will see where I am staying. And along the way I will be as close to you as the taste of bread and wine on your tongue, the breath you breathe, and those friends through whom the uncomfortable questions are asked and the comforting answers come.
What will happen to my job? Have I made the right decisions about my life in the past? How will I live with my loved one no longer here in body? How much longer do I have in this world? What will our church look like, and not just the building but the people as well? And where is Jesus staying in all of this? We all, lifelong disciples and students of Jesus Christ, follow and ask Him. And He answers: Come and together, you will see.
At this point in our story Andrew and this other student are not disciples of Jesus, but students of John the Baptist. Even after His Resurrection and Ascension, there remained disciples of John who considered him to be more important than Jesus. They couldn't make the same transition from John to Jesus. They loved the home they had made for themselves out of John's words, John's truth. And even after John's death, they were never able to leave that home.
What had they, and Andrew and this other student, learned from John? They had learned that John was like the Old Testament prophet Isaiah who cried in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord. They had learned that the people of Israel needed to repent, to change their hearts and their lives. They had learned that someone mightier and more worthy than John was coming. And while John poured water for repentance of sin, he would pour out fire and spirit in a blazing judgment of sin.
And so Andrew, the other disciple and presumably all the other students hanging on John's words, hear him say, "Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world?" So why do only two of John's students follow Jesus? Perhaps it's because John the teacher's answers have only raised more questions. The Greek word translated, "take away," does have that meaning. But it can also mean, "To take up." In some Jewish apocalyptic writings, the Lamb of God is a triumphant figure who crushes the enemies of Israel who have oppressed her under his hooves. But in the Old Testament, the Passover lamb was the animal sacrificed to God, and whose blood was spread on the doors of the oppressed Israelites in Egypt. That was how the spirit of death knew to pass by the Israelites as it claimed the firstborn of Egypt.
So which is it? Is this Jesus the one to take away the sin of the world, to take it on himself, or both? Is he the avenger, the sacrifice, or both? John doesn't answer those questions. The only one who can answer is walking away, maybe to never return. So what are John's students to do? Should they stay with John, from whom they have learned much, and with whom they have found rest and comfort in their familiar relationship? Or do they take their teacher's last lesson to heart, follow after Jesus and start to relearn what it means to be a child of Israel and a child of God?
Is it really all that surprising that only two of John's disciple-students had the courage to follow Jesus and ask Him what He meant? Discipleship isn't easy. Being a student isn't easy. It means having to ask a lot of questions about a lot of unfamiliar knowledge, assuming you can even formulate the questions in your mind. If your teacher is particularly irritating, it means suddenly having to answer his or her questions. "What are you looking for?" Jesus turns and asks Andrew and this other former student of John's. They respond as truthfully as they can. They have left the familiar teachings of their previous teacher. So from their insecurity they ask Jesus, "Teacher, where are you staying tonight, for it is nearly 4 o'clock and we don't know where to go." To which their new teacher smiles and answers, "Come and you will see."
Christian disciplship is more than getting a few answers right on a test. Being a student of Jesus Christ is so much more than collecting proof texts from the Bible. It is a lifelong journey and process of asking questions, receiving answers and asking the questions that flow from those answers. There is joy and wonder in the answers we receive. There is joy and wonder in the questions those answers inspire us to ask. But the greatest joy and wonder of Christian learning is that it is not something we do alone. Come and see, Jesus promises us, and you will see where I am staying. And along the way I will be as close to you as the taste of bread and wine on your tongue, the breath you breathe, and those friends through whom the uncomfortable questions are asked and the comforting answers come.
What will happen to my job? Have I made the right decisions about my life in the past? How will I live with my loved one no longer here in body? How much longer do I have in this world? What will our church look like, and not just the building but the people as well? And where is Jesus staying in all of this? We all, lifelong disciples and students of Jesus Christ, follow and ask Him. And He answers: Come and together, you will see.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
The Baptism of Jesus: 1st Sunday of Epiphany
There at the back of the church, or the beginning depending on your perspective, is the same baptismal fount into which Episcopalians have dipped their fingers and crossed themselves for over 100 years. Perhaps for us Episcopalians, many of whom were baptized as infants, it is especially important to remind ourselves of something we can’t remember.
The baptismal fount in the back also is a reminder of when baptisms were essentially private, family affairs. With the “new” prayer book, the expectation is clear that baptisms are a public celebration that involves the whole community renewing their own vows and commitment to the mission of the Church. Although Isabella Henderson was baptized in Santo Domingo two weeks ago, today we at Christ Church welcome her “into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.” (Book of Common Prayer, p.308).
The old baptismal liturgy emphasized that the individual was “regenerate,” reborn from the condition of original sin. In the “new” liturgy, it is stated that we are “reborn by the Holy Spirit.” For many Christians this rebirth is an event which they can pinpoint to a day and even time. For us Episcopals, the rebirth into eternal life is a process of personal growth in faith, hope and love that takes a lifetime. Sometimes those rebirth pangs may be intense. But everytime we dip our fingers and cross ourselves, we remind ourselves of that wonderful rebirth that began so close to our first birth.
At the same time, Baptism for Episcopalians in the 21st century is a call to share in Christ's mission. And the mission of Jesus Christ is to die. And even as we bring the little children to the fountain of rebirth, we hear the Priest say that in the baptismal water we are "buried with Christ in his death." Many new Episcopal churches have founts and pools where adults can be immersed into Christ's mission of sacrificial love.
And so, we find ourselves straddling different sets of poles: the fount and the pool: rebirth and burial: personal growth and common mission. Those two poles are also evident in the baptism that John preached, and the baptism of Jesus. “I baptize you with water, for your repentance.” (Matt. 3:11). So we heard John say during Advent. Many came to John because they knew they had to change their hearts and lives. As they kneeled in the Jordan River, and John poured water on them, they were washed clean of the sin and shame that would keep them from welcoming the one whom John said was coming, and was greater than he. In the Baptism of John, they began the process of growth which in time would strip the shame and fear from their hearts, leaving only joy and gratitude before their Creator.
But is that why Jesus Christ, the Son of God, comes to John to be baptized? John himself couldn’t imagine any other reason to be baptized. So he begs the one whose sandals he is unworthy to carry, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you come to me?” To which Jesus replies, “It is seemly that I be baptized now, in order to fulfill my Father’s plan.” Jesus does not need to reborn from a condition of sin. But He needs to be seen being baptized. We Christians know the rest of the story that John couldn’t imagine. We know that Jesus will not cling to special privileges of his divinity. We know that He who was innocent of all wrongdoing will willingly pay the penalty of blasphemy and rebellion. Undergoing the same baptism of repentance, Jesus completely identifies Himself with the sinful human race.
So, if Jesus identifies with us in our sin, will we identify with Him in His mission? We who have passed through the water of Baptism have had the shame stripped from our souls. We need not fear God’s judgment. For when we do our best, the grace of God in Jesus Christ supplies the rest. We need not fear the opposition to the Good News, for we have been buried with Christ his death, and we most certainly will share in his resurrection.
Like those who came to John in the Jordan, we are brought to the waters of Baptism for the rebirth of our deformed souls. Sometimes we need to remind ourselves of how the water of Baptism refreshes our souls, and also renew our hope. Every Sunday, the fount is there to refresh your soul. But as the household of God, we all are called to share in the mission of Jesus Christ, to reveal the depth of God’s love for all his children. Today, I will ask you to renew your commitment to that mission by renewing your baptismal vows. I pray that each of you may find refreshment for your tired souls. I pray that as we are buried with Jesus, so may others find resurrection through us.
The baptismal fount in the back also is a reminder of when baptisms were essentially private, family affairs. With the “new” prayer book, the expectation is clear that baptisms are a public celebration that involves the whole community renewing their own vows and commitment to the mission of the Church. Although Isabella Henderson was baptized in Santo Domingo two weeks ago, today we at Christ Church welcome her “into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.” (Book of Common Prayer, p.308).
The old baptismal liturgy emphasized that the individual was “regenerate,” reborn from the condition of original sin. In the “new” liturgy, it is stated that we are “reborn by the Holy Spirit.” For many Christians this rebirth is an event which they can pinpoint to a day and even time. For us Episcopals, the rebirth into eternal life is a process of personal growth in faith, hope and love that takes a lifetime. Sometimes those rebirth pangs may be intense. But everytime we dip our fingers and cross ourselves, we remind ourselves of that wonderful rebirth that began so close to our first birth.
At the same time, Baptism for Episcopalians in the 21st century is a call to share in Christ's mission. And the mission of Jesus Christ is to die. And even as we bring the little children to the fountain of rebirth, we hear the Priest say that in the baptismal water we are "buried with Christ in his death." Many new Episcopal churches have founts and pools where adults can be immersed into Christ's mission of sacrificial love.
And so, we find ourselves straddling different sets of poles: the fount and the pool: rebirth and burial: personal growth and common mission. Those two poles are also evident in the baptism that John preached, and the baptism of Jesus. “I baptize you with water, for your repentance.” (Matt. 3:11). So we heard John say during Advent. Many came to John because they knew they had to change their hearts and lives. As they kneeled in the Jordan River, and John poured water on them, they were washed clean of the sin and shame that would keep them from welcoming the one whom John said was coming, and was greater than he. In the Baptism of John, they began the process of growth which in time would strip the shame and fear from their hearts, leaving only joy and gratitude before their Creator.
But is that why Jesus Christ, the Son of God, comes to John to be baptized? John himself couldn’t imagine any other reason to be baptized. So he begs the one whose sandals he is unworthy to carry, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you come to me?” To which Jesus replies, “It is seemly that I be baptized now, in order to fulfill my Father’s plan.” Jesus does not need to reborn from a condition of sin. But He needs to be seen being baptized. We Christians know the rest of the story that John couldn’t imagine. We know that Jesus will not cling to special privileges of his divinity. We know that He who was innocent of all wrongdoing will willingly pay the penalty of blasphemy and rebellion. Undergoing the same baptism of repentance, Jesus completely identifies Himself with the sinful human race.
So, if Jesus identifies with us in our sin, will we identify with Him in His mission? We who have passed through the water of Baptism have had the shame stripped from our souls. We need not fear God’s judgment. For when we do our best, the grace of God in Jesus Christ supplies the rest. We need not fear the opposition to the Good News, for we have been buried with Christ his death, and we most certainly will share in his resurrection.
Like those who came to John in the Jordan, we are brought to the waters of Baptism for the rebirth of our deformed souls. Sometimes we need to remind ourselves of how the water of Baptism refreshes our souls, and also renew our hope. Every Sunday, the fount is there to refresh your soul. But as the household of God, we all are called to share in the mission of Jesus Christ, to reveal the depth of God’s love for all his children. Today, I will ask you to renew your commitment to that mission by renewing your baptismal vows. I pray that each of you may find refreshment for your tired souls. I pray that as we are buried with Jesus, so may others find resurrection through us.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Twelfth Night
“All these people didn’t receive what was promised, though they were given approval for their faith. God provided something better for us so they wouldn’t be made perfect without us.” (Hebrews 11:39-40)
I appreciated very much the member of Christ Church who, summarizing my preaching style, called me the “storyteller.” As I said in my summer series on interpreting the Bible a couple of years ago, the Bible is a story of God’s conversation with us, our reply, and God’s continuing response. The rest of chapter 11 before the verses above is a story of the faith of Israel, as expressed by faithful men and women, who kept moving forward, trusting in God’s promise even though they themselves did not see it.
The first readers of the Letter to the Hebrews, and we today, have received the promise: a newborn boy who will become the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. But through us who have seen the promise, those who handed on the baton of faith also see the promise now, and are being perfected as we are.
The story of our perfection is still continuing, as the baby is revealed to wise men, becomes a man with a message to proclaim, and who will die to reveal the depth of God’s love for us. On this “Twelfth Night” of Christmas, 2011, we are still running the race with Him, perfecting our faith in His. Our ancestors in faith have handed the baton on to us. And yet they still run with us toward the promise, whose light we now see. Don’t stop telling each other the story. It is the only story with a truly happy ending.
I appreciated very much the member of Christ Church who, summarizing my preaching style, called me the “storyteller.” As I said in my summer series on interpreting the Bible a couple of years ago, the Bible is a story of God’s conversation with us, our reply, and God’s continuing response. The rest of chapter 11 before the verses above is a story of the faith of Israel, as expressed by faithful men and women, who kept moving forward, trusting in God’s promise even though they themselves did not see it.
The first readers of the Letter to the Hebrews, and we today, have received the promise: a newborn boy who will become the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. But through us who have seen the promise, those who handed on the baton of faith also see the promise now, and are being perfected as we are.
The story of our perfection is still continuing, as the baby is revealed to wise men, becomes a man with a message to proclaim, and who will die to reveal the depth of God’s love for us. On this “Twelfth Night” of Christmas, 2011, we are still running the race with Him, perfecting our faith in His. Our ancestors in faith have handed the baton on to us. And yet they still run with us toward the promise, whose light we now see. Don’t stop telling each other the story. It is the only story with a truly happy ending.
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Tenth Day of Christmas
The Shepherd’s Farewell to the Holy Family
Hector Berlioz / from L’Enfance Du Christ
Thou must leave Thy lowly dwelling,
The humble crib, the stable bare,
Babe, all mortal babes excelling,
Content our early lot to share,
Loving father, loving mother,
Shelter Thee with tender care!
Loving father, loving mother,
Shelter Thee with tender care,
shelter Thee with tender care!
Blessed Jesus, we implore Thee
With humble love and holy fear,
In the land that lies before Thee,
Forget not us who linger here!
May the shepherd’s lowly calling
Ever to Thy heart be dear!
May the shepherd’s lowly calling
Ever to Thy heart be dear,
ever to Thy heart be dear!
Blest are ye beyond all measure,
Thou happy father, mother mild!
Guard ye well your Heav’nly Treasure,
The Prince of Peace, the Holy Child!
God go with you, God protect you,
Guide you safely through the wild!
God go with you, God protect you,
Guide you safely through the wild,
guide you safely through the wild!
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