Sermon for Proper 8 B (RCL), Offered by Nathan Ferrell at HS, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville
Texts: 2 Samuel 1:1,17-27; Psalm 130; 2 Cor. 8:7-15; Mark 5:21-43
You know, it must have driven them mad. It must have been very frustrating for the disciples as they wandered back and forth through the hills of Galilee. I feel certain that they spent a lot of mental energy trying to figure out how the Lord operated, to discern his special techniques.
I can imagine the questions: “Jesus, how do you do it? How do you heal people? Is it only by laying your hands on them? Is it with your saliva, like when you spit on your hands and touched the blind man’s eyes? But then, what about the woman who only touched your cloak from behind? How did that work? And sometimes you just say a certain word and the sick are healed! What do you have to say to make that happen?”
These disciples were mostly working men, folks who knew how to build things, how to fix things, how to add and count and to handle business transactions. They were used to the normal, common-sense “how-to” of daily life.
But this Teacher whom they followed had no rhyme or reason. Jesus had no technique for healing people. He had no method, he had no scheme. No, the truth is that he dealt with every person he met as an individual, and he handled each situation uniquely.
And it is no different with us today. God has no special technique.
There is no magic formula that we can use to try to predict God’s actions, or to control life. I know it is tempting. Erin and I met while we were in college through the ministry of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. During those years, we were taught the evangelical perspective on the Gospel. It made a lot of sense. Our task was to have a quiet time every day for prayer and bible study. We were to tithe faithfully and to support those who were sharing the Gospel around the world. And on the other side, God would bless us and give us strength to be a light in our community.
This simple quid pro quo worldview began to be shaken about 10 years ago. After our first 2 children were born, we experienced 2 difficult second trimester stillbirths, one after another. This was completely unexpected and inexplicable. Even though we knew in our minds that life was unpredictable and that “God’s ways are not [our] ways” ( Isaiah 55:8), still it felt good to hold on to this kind of certainty: that if we were faithful in playing our part, then God would make sure that things worked out well.
But that is not faith, my friends. It is superstition. It is an attempt at manipulation.
Faith is trust: deep-seated, whole-hearted trust. And this trust allows us to accept life as it comes. Life is unpredictable.
In the parish I served in Massachusetts, a parishioner told me the story of his good friend who had worked very hard his entire life. This man was diligent to save and to plan for his retirement. Finally, the day came. Both he and his wife retired and they were so happy to have this time together for which they had planned. But, a month after retirement, the man was struck by sudden heart failure, and not long after this his wife passed as well.
I don’t know if these folks trusted in God or not. But it makes no difference. Even for members of the Body of Christ, life is unpredictable.
When our Lord arrived at the home of Jairus, and he saw the crowd of paid mourners gathered there, he asked them a simple yet profound question: “Why do you make a commotion and weep?” Why do you make such a loud fuss?
It is a good question for all of us. In the face of uncertainty, living in an unpredictable world created by an unpredictable God, our body naturally pushes us to anxiety.
When we are anxious, most of us make a lot of noise. We’ve been doing it every since we were born! When babies need something, then it’s time to cry.
Why do you make such a commotion? The way most of us adults deal with our own anxiety is to surround ourselves with constant noise. We have more toys and gadgets now than ever before with which to surround ourselves with noise. It makes it much easier this way to block out the anxiety that greets us in silence.
In our society, it is quite obvious that we value communication much more than contemplation. But I ask you, why? We have access to more information now than any human beings in history, but… do we know what it means? How does this information help us to live better, healthier, fuller, more abundant lives?
After Jesus had herded away those noisy mourners, he entered into the quiet room, where Jairus’ daughter lay. There, in the silence, he spoke words of healing and hope. And those who accompanied him into the room were struck with awe.
If we are to hear God speak to us, if we are to understand the seeming randomness of our life as a piece in the overall good plan of God, then we must learn to be silent. We must learn to listen. We must train our ears to listen for a different, and higher, frequency.
When I was in seminary, our wise professor, Glenn Hinson, who served as our spiritual guide, repeatedly exhorted us to practice listening to God in silence. It was his contention that in order for us to be effective pastoral leaders, it is essential for us to spend the following times in silent, contemplative listening: an hour a day, a day a month, a week a year.
Unfortunately, I have rarely been able to keep this discipline. Right now, the only quiet time I usually get is after 10 PM at night! One day, I will get to this point. Because he was right. Before any word of ours is the Word of God. Out of the eternal silence, God spoke, And in Jesus, God speaks to us, not in a loud shout, but in a whisper. In the midst of a crazy, loud and confusing world, the Spirit waits in silence.
This is how the desert fathers could make this bold claim for the power of silence: “Any trial whatever that comes to you can be conquered by silence” (The Wisdom of the Desert, Thomas Merton, p. 55).
So why make such a commotion? Why allow your anxiety to control you? Put your trust in the Lord and listen to his voice. My friends, make it a regular part of your life to meet with God in silence. In that time, in that place, the Word will speak and you will find healing for your souls.
Reports, musings, sermons, happenings from a Presbyter (Priest) of The Episcopal Church who loves Jesus, the natural world, ice and snow, and is raising 3 children with his artist-wife, Erin McGee Ferrell. (This photo is of the Presidential range in NH taken from Vermont.)
Monday, June 29, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Why are you afraid?
Sermon for Proper 7 B (RCL), Offered by Nathan Ferrell at HS, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville
Texts: 1 Sam 17:1,4-11,19-23,32-49; Psalm 9; 2 Cor 6:1-13; Mark 4:35-41
Welcome, my friends, to the summer of King David! Welcome. All summer long, every week we will hear a passage in our Lectionary about the life of David, and in mid-August it will continue with the life of his successor, Solomon the wise.
David’s life story is revealed to us in greater detail and clarity than that of any other life in the Hebrew scriptures. He has set an example to the people of God for 3000 years. Today, we are given the task of hearing again the familiar old story of David’s defeat of Goliath.
I am certain that many of you glazed over while hearing this story read aloud, because most of us have heard it now a thousand times. But if we listen carefully to the familiar old stories, even here can we discern the voice of the Holy Spirit speaking to us.
David is our prime example of a risk-taker in the Hebrew scriptures. His boldness in the face of such overwhelming odds is a testimony to his own determination as well as the strength of his trust in God. When all others were stuck in their fear – paralyzed and unable to act, David walked forward, straight out to the battle line.
And in the amazing courage of David we have this truth confirmed: to have faith, to trust in the living God means having the capability of taking risks.
Think about this, my friends: if we honestly trust that God is the Master of all things, that God has a good and loving purpose for our lives, then when an opportunity to act for good presents itself, we ought to be people who are ready to move forward, even in the face of overwhelming odds.
I am sure that many of you have heard the Risk Poem. This poem has floated around in popular culture for quite some time. I tried to research its origin, but was unsuccessful. The author is not known. It certainly smacks of trite pop psychology, but I see truth in it nonetheless. This is the Risk poem.
Texts: 1 Sam 17:1,4-11,19-23,32-49; Psalm 9; 2 Cor 6:1-13; Mark 4:35-41
Welcome, my friends, to the summer of King David! Welcome. All summer long, every week we will hear a passage in our Lectionary about the life of David, and in mid-August it will continue with the life of his successor, Solomon the wise.
David’s life story is revealed to us in greater detail and clarity than that of any other life in the Hebrew scriptures. He has set an example to the people of God for 3000 years. Today, we are given the task of hearing again the familiar old story of David’s defeat of Goliath.
I am certain that many of you glazed over while hearing this story read aloud, because most of us have heard it now a thousand times. But if we listen carefully to the familiar old stories, even here can we discern the voice of the Holy Spirit speaking to us.
David is our prime example of a risk-taker in the Hebrew scriptures. His boldness in the face of such overwhelming odds is a testimony to his own determination as well as the strength of his trust in God. When all others were stuck in their fear – paralyzed and unable to act, David walked forward, straight out to the battle line.
And in the amazing courage of David we have this truth confirmed: to have faith, to trust in the living God means having the capability of taking risks.
Think about this, my friends: if we honestly trust that God is the Master of all things, that God has a good and loving purpose for our lives, then when an opportunity to act for good presents itself, we ought to be people who are ready to move forward, even in the face of overwhelming odds.
I am sure that many of you have heard the Risk Poem. This poem has floated around in popular culture for quite some time. I tried to research its origin, but was unsuccessful. The author is not known. It certainly smacks of trite pop psychology, but I see truth in it nonetheless. This is the Risk poem.
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out to others is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas, your dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.To hope is to risk despair.To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken,because the greatest risk in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing,does nothing, has nothing, and is nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love,
live.Chained by their certitude, they are a slave,they forfeited their freedom.
Only the person who risks is truly free.
There is deep truth here, I believe. If we avoid taking risks out of fear, then we are bound by our past and unable to grow. This is the dynamic at work in our Gospel reading for today. Jesus had just called the 12 apostles, and they had left their old lives to follow him. But they were still dominated by their fear. They did not yet understand who this Christ is. We, of course, live on the other side of the resurrection. We know who this Messiah is, and yet the Lord’s question is just as fitting for us as it was for them: “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”
So let us all be clear about this: to overcome our fear, to live by faith and trust so that we are inspired to boldness and courage – this is the task of our lives in Christ.
And when we take these steps of faith, God can act. There are times when God intervenes in history and in our lives in a way that cannot be explained by any other means. Luck is not part of a Christian’s vocabulary. We cannot, and we should not, attribute the good things in our lives to mere happenstance.
But, let us also be clear about this: risk-taking does not always turn out the way we hope. Faith is not a magic formula to achieve success. We must not be naïve about David’s example and what it means for us. As we will hear about in the weeks to come, we need to remember also that after David’s amazing defeat of Goliath, Saul spent many years trying to kill David. The young man had to live for years in the caves and hills of Judea, constantly fleeing for his life. The Psalms attributed to David pay tribute to the range of experiences that David encountered. In some of the Psalms, we hear David uttering the deepest laments of the human heart. And we know, of course, of the death of his son after his illicit tryst with Bath-sheba. David’s faith and courage did not shield him from the pains of human life.
The Lutheran pastor, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, took a risk while living under the reign of the Third Reich. He felt compelled by God to join in a covert attempt to assassinate Hitler. For Bonheoffer, this was akin to dealing with a fictional madman in a town who drives every day in a reckless manner. Eventually, the man drives up on the sidewalks and begins running down pedestrians. The typical pastoral response is to minister to those who are the victims of the madman driver. But Bonhoeffer believed that his responsibility as pastor was instead to stop the madman driver from ever driving again. He took the risk of joining this effort. However, the plot was foiled. Bonhoeffer was arrested and was killed by the Nazis just a few weeks before the Allied troops arrived. His risk-taking, his courage, inspired by his faith, failed to achieve its goal and ultimately cost him his life.
So let us all be clear about this: to overcome our fear, to live by faith and trust so that we are inspired to boldness and courage – this is the task of our lives in Christ.
And when we take these steps of faith, God can act. There are times when God intervenes in history and in our lives in a way that cannot be explained by any other means. Luck is not part of a Christian’s vocabulary. We cannot, and we should not, attribute the good things in our lives to mere happenstance.
But, let us also be clear about this: risk-taking does not always turn out the way we hope. Faith is not a magic formula to achieve success. We must not be naïve about David’s example and what it means for us. As we will hear about in the weeks to come, we need to remember also that after David’s amazing defeat of Goliath, Saul spent many years trying to kill David. The young man had to live for years in the caves and hills of Judea, constantly fleeing for his life. The Psalms attributed to David pay tribute to the range of experiences that David encountered. In some of the Psalms, we hear David uttering the deepest laments of the human heart. And we know, of course, of the death of his son after his illicit tryst with Bath-sheba. David’s faith and courage did not shield him from the pains of human life.
The Lutheran pastor, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, took a risk while living under the reign of the Third Reich. He felt compelled by God to join in a covert attempt to assassinate Hitler. For Bonheoffer, this was akin to dealing with a fictional madman in a town who drives every day in a reckless manner. Eventually, the man drives up on the sidewalks and begins running down pedestrians. The typical pastoral response is to minister to those who are the victims of the madman driver. But Bonhoeffer believed that his responsibility as pastor was instead to stop the madman driver from ever driving again. He took the risk of joining this effort. However, the plot was foiled. Bonhoeffer was arrested and was killed by the Nazis just a few weeks before the Allied troops arrived. His risk-taking, his courage, inspired by his faith, failed to achieve its goal and ultimately cost him his life.
And what about the apostles themselves? By the grace of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit, they learned to overcome their fear and to trust in God in all things. Because of their courage, we are here today. But remember that all 12 of their lives ended in tragedy in one form or another. Receiving the Holy Spirit as tongues of fire did not protect them from pain and hardship in this world. Their boldness cost them their lives, but God was able to do amazing things through them.
And so the question for us remains the same: why are you afraid? In spite of our failures, in spite of our foolishness and blindness, if we can move forward in courage and boldness and truly live our lives by faith, then God might be able to do something amazing in your life. You have to simply take the first step. As the Lord said to St Paul, so it can be said about all of us: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
You know, we pray for this every week. After receiving Christ in the sacrament, we pray:
“Grant us strength and courage to love and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart.”
And so may the great God of life find us always ready and willing to turn this prayer into a reality in the real world. Amen.
And so the question for us remains the same: why are you afraid? In spite of our failures, in spite of our foolishness and blindness, if we can move forward in courage and boldness and truly live our lives by faith, then God might be able to do something amazing in your life. You have to simply take the first step. As the Lord said to St Paul, so it can be said about all of us: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
You know, we pray for this every week. After receiving Christ in the sacrament, we pray:
“Grant us strength and courage to love and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart.”
And so may the great God of life find us always ready and willing to turn this prayer into a reality in the real world. Amen.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
The Risk Poem
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out to others is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas, your dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken,because the greatest hazard in life is to do nothing.
The person who risks nothing,does nothing, has nothing, and is nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
The person who risks nothing,does nothing, has nothing, and is nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love, live.
Chained by their attitudes, they are a slave;
Chained by their attitudes, they are a slave;
they forfeited their freedom.
Only the person who risks can be free.
This poem has been around for some time. I have done a bit of searching on its history and authorship, but to no avail. It certainly smacks of trite pop psychology, but nevertheless I appreciate it. There is truth here. Perhaps we might say that even God takes risks. Could we consider the Incarnation as risk-taking? Certainly, the decision to create humankind was a risk which has had far-reaching consequences.
Monday, June 15, 2009
No Longer in That Way
Sermon for Proper 6 (RCL - B)
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Red Bank National Battlefield Park
(HS, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville Annual Picnic)
Texts: 1 Samuel 15:34-16:13; Psalm 20; 2 Corinthians 5:6-10,14-17; Mark 4:26-34
My friends, today our Lord presents us with a choice to make, a path to choose. There are two options. We can continue in our old, habitual, customary ways of looking at other people. Or we can look at people with the eyes of the Holy Spirit.
Do you remember our reading from the First Book of Samuel? God teaches old Samuel to not look at the outward appearance of a person. The Lord does not see the skin, the hair. The Lord looks at the heart.
And then we are given those beautiful words from St. Paul. “From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view.” The words here literally translate as “to know someone in the flesh”. To know someone kata sarka = by the flesh.
To talk about knowing someone from a human point of view is too vague, I think. A better translation is to say something like, “to view someone on the basis of my personal experiences.” That’s a little cumbersome, but I think it’s better.
J.B. Phillips said it this way: “our knowledge of others can no longer be based on their outward lives.”
Well, what does this mean to regard someone from a human point of view? I want some answers. We’re out here in the park – it’s an informal setting. What do you think this means? Let’s have some ideas, some concrete examples.
OK. So what’s the alternative? To see the heart of the other, to view someone through the eyes of the Spirit, to know the other as a new creation in Christ.
What would it be like if we actually lived this out? If we actually regarded no one anymore from a human point of view, solely on the basis of our past experiences?
Let’s use our sanctified imagination for a moment and just imagine what it would be like to have this kind of worldview. How would your life be different?
God's plan is for us to have the ability, and the desire, to see beyond, to look deeper than the surface level.
For me, I see a connection here with the wearing of my seat belt. Every single time I drive in an automobile, I wear a seat belt. By the grace of God, this is not because of the past. I have never been in an accident where the seat belt has saved me. I wear my seat belt because of the future, because of the possible accident that waits around the bend in the road. I wear it not because of what has been in my past, but because of what could be in my future.
This, I believe, is like the change of perspective that Jesus came to bring to us! By the grace of God, we can look at other people not on the basis of what has been in their past, but on the basis of what they could be in the future. In God’s glorious future, they could be changed into beings of unspeakable glory.
We human beings have a curious habit of judging people solely on the basis of our own personal experiences and of their outward appearances.
In our painting business, we had a customer recently who exemplifies this well. Many of our painters are Turks, for there is a huge community of Turkish painters in the Cinnaminson-Delran-Burlington area. And, as with any other group of people, some of them are really good painters and some aren’t quite so skilled.
Well, on this particular job, I met with the couple after we finished painting their exterior, because they had a punch-list of a few things they wanted us to fix and clean. We met on Saturday afternoon, and we agreed that me and my crew of Turks would be back on Tuesday to finish these items. Well, on Monday, the husband called me and said, “Look, let’s talk man-to-man. I know your guys. I used to live in Delran where they are. They’re sloppy, they angry, they don’t like Americans, they don’t care about anything. And I don’t trust them coming onto my property at all.”
I couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to speak to me in that way. I know my guys, and these two painters are great guys, very respectful. They both have gone through the effort of becoming American citizens. One has a brand new baby. This fellow had no idea what he was talking about. But, do you see how it happened? I do not know any details at all, but obviously he had had some bad experience in his past with Turkish people. And on the basis of this alone, he boldly passed his judgment upon me and my painters, without knowing anything about us at all.
Judging according to the flesh, according to our own limited personal experiences.
The desert fathers spoke much about the dangers of judging others. It is one of the primary ways that we stray from the spiritual way of life. Once a brother came to Abbot Poemen seeking advice and he said: “What ought I to do, Father? I am in great sadness.” The elder said to him: “Never despise anyone, never condemn anyone, never speak evil of anyone, and the Lord will give you peace.”
Do you want to have deep and abiding peace in your life? This is a good place to start. Despise no one, condemn no one, and speak evil of no one, and the Lord will give you peace.
Because do you know what happens? When I begin to think about the evil that someone has done, when I begin to stew about how rotten they are, or when I am quick to pass judgment, then I quickly stop watching myself. I stop paying attention to my own faults. And at the end of the day, what the Lord is trying to teach us is really quite simple and profound, but we stumble over it so often. The teaching is this: we cannot control anyone else. The only one we can control is ourselves. And just to do this is a full-time job! Just to go about the job of reforming ourselves, changing ourselves one step at a time until we bear the likeness of Jesus Christ more and more every day- this takes all of the time that God has given us on this earth.
In Christ, the past is gone. The old has passed away; everything is in the process of becoming new. You and I – we may not look like too much on the outside. Our past may not be full of blazing signs of holiness. But God is doing something in us. God is changing us. God is making us into something beautiful. We are new creations in Christ, and one day we will even look like it!
In the meantime, we can make a choice to deal with others, not as they look today, but as they could be in God’s glorious future. Not only is this the truth about others – that God has the final say about who they are – but it is also a better, richer and fuller way for us to live this life.
Thanks be to God that we are given such clear guidance about how to live together into the fullness of life available in Christ. Amen.
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Red Bank National Battlefield Park
(HS, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville Annual Picnic)
Texts: 1 Samuel 15:34-16:13; Psalm 20; 2 Corinthians 5:6-10,14-17; Mark 4:26-34
My friends, today our Lord presents us with a choice to make, a path to choose. There are two options. We can continue in our old, habitual, customary ways of looking at other people. Or we can look at people with the eyes of the Holy Spirit.
Do you remember our reading from the First Book of Samuel? God teaches old Samuel to not look at the outward appearance of a person. The Lord does not see the skin, the hair. The Lord looks at the heart.
And then we are given those beautiful words from St. Paul. “From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view.” The words here literally translate as “to know someone in the flesh”. To know someone kata sarka = by the flesh.
To talk about knowing someone from a human point of view is too vague, I think. A better translation is to say something like, “to view someone on the basis of my personal experiences.” That’s a little cumbersome, but I think it’s better.
J.B. Phillips said it this way: “our knowledge of others can no longer be based on their outward lives.”
Well, what does this mean to regard someone from a human point of view? I want some answers. We’re out here in the park – it’s an informal setting. What do you think this means? Let’s have some ideas, some concrete examples.
OK. So what’s the alternative? To see the heart of the other, to view someone through the eyes of the Spirit, to know the other as a new creation in Christ.
What would it be like if we actually lived this out? If we actually regarded no one anymore from a human point of view, solely on the basis of our past experiences?
Let’s use our sanctified imagination for a moment and just imagine what it would be like to have this kind of worldview. How would your life be different?
God's plan is for us to have the ability, and the desire, to see beyond, to look deeper than the surface level.
For me, I see a connection here with the wearing of my seat belt. Every single time I drive in an automobile, I wear a seat belt. By the grace of God, this is not because of the past. I have never been in an accident where the seat belt has saved me. I wear my seat belt because of the future, because of the possible accident that waits around the bend in the road. I wear it not because of what has been in my past, but because of what could be in my future.
This, I believe, is like the change of perspective that Jesus came to bring to us! By the grace of God, we can look at other people not on the basis of what has been in their past, but on the basis of what they could be in the future. In God’s glorious future, they could be changed into beings of unspeakable glory.
We human beings have a curious habit of judging people solely on the basis of our own personal experiences and of their outward appearances.
In our painting business, we had a customer recently who exemplifies this well. Many of our painters are Turks, for there is a huge community of Turkish painters in the Cinnaminson-Delran-Burlington area. And, as with any other group of people, some of them are really good painters and some aren’t quite so skilled.
Well, on this particular job, I met with the couple after we finished painting their exterior, because they had a punch-list of a few things they wanted us to fix and clean. We met on Saturday afternoon, and we agreed that me and my crew of Turks would be back on Tuesday to finish these items. Well, on Monday, the husband called me and said, “Look, let’s talk man-to-man. I know your guys. I used to live in Delran where they are. They’re sloppy, they angry, they don’t like Americans, they don’t care about anything. And I don’t trust them coming onto my property at all.”
I couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to speak to me in that way. I know my guys, and these two painters are great guys, very respectful. They both have gone through the effort of becoming American citizens. One has a brand new baby. This fellow had no idea what he was talking about. But, do you see how it happened? I do not know any details at all, but obviously he had had some bad experience in his past with Turkish people. And on the basis of this alone, he boldly passed his judgment upon me and my painters, without knowing anything about us at all.
Judging according to the flesh, according to our own limited personal experiences.
The desert fathers spoke much about the dangers of judging others. It is one of the primary ways that we stray from the spiritual way of life. Once a brother came to Abbot Poemen seeking advice and he said: “What ought I to do, Father? I am in great sadness.” The elder said to him: “Never despise anyone, never condemn anyone, never speak evil of anyone, and the Lord will give you peace.”
Do you want to have deep and abiding peace in your life? This is a good place to start. Despise no one, condemn no one, and speak evil of no one, and the Lord will give you peace.
Because do you know what happens? When I begin to think about the evil that someone has done, when I begin to stew about how rotten they are, or when I am quick to pass judgment, then I quickly stop watching myself. I stop paying attention to my own faults. And at the end of the day, what the Lord is trying to teach us is really quite simple and profound, but we stumble over it so often. The teaching is this: we cannot control anyone else. The only one we can control is ourselves. And just to do this is a full-time job! Just to go about the job of reforming ourselves, changing ourselves one step at a time until we bear the likeness of Jesus Christ more and more every day- this takes all of the time that God has given us on this earth.
In Christ, the past is gone. The old has passed away; everything is in the process of becoming new. You and I – we may not look like too much on the outside. Our past may not be full of blazing signs of holiness. But God is doing something in us. God is changing us. God is making us into something beautiful. We are new creations in Christ, and one day we will even look like it!
In the meantime, we can make a choice to deal with others, not as they look today, but as they could be in God’s glorious future. Not only is this the truth about others – that God has the final say about who they are – but it is also a better, richer and fuller way for us to live this life.
Thanks be to God that we are given such clear guidance about how to live together into the fullness of life available in Christ. Amen.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Ireland Child Abuse Report
It is so saddening and disappointing to read this report of the systematic abuse of children in Ireland by those who were appointed - by God and by the government - to protect, nurture and love them.
What does this say about the sacraments? What is the efficacy of the blessed sacrament of Christ's body and blood, when those who received it every day, could leave the sanctuary and walk out to sexually abuse a child?
Christian priests, for whom the sacrament of communion is central to their daily life, are responsible for so much pain among the people of Ireland through the abuse of innocents.
God, have mercy upon the priests who have caused so many to lose their faith.
What does this say about the sacraments? What is the efficacy of the blessed sacrament of Christ's body and blood, when those who received it every day, could leave the sanctuary and walk out to sexually abuse a child?
Christian priests, for whom the sacrament of communion is central to their daily life, are responsible for so much pain among the people of Ireland through the abuse of innocents.
"It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied
around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin" (Luke
17:2).
God, have mercy upon the priests who have caused so many to lose their faith.
You Hear the Sound of It
Sermon for Trinity Sunday (RCL - B)
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Holy Spirit, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville
Texts: Isaiah 6:1-8; Psalm 29; Romans 8:12-17; John 3:1-17
Alone, in the dark of night, the teacher, well-trained, well-educated, a city-dweller walks out into the orchard, seeking the country prophet from the hills, the one who speaks with surprising authority, and who heals the sick.
Nicodemus seeks for Jesus and he hopes for answers. He leaves the Master more confused than before, but touched by a Presence unlike anything else he has ever known.
For days, for weeks, no – for his entire life, Nicodemus chews upon those words, trying to soak up from them every last bit of divine meaning. His understanding is slow to change, but his heart is changed more quickly, and Nicodemus becomes a disciple. One who loves this man from Nazareth and who seeks a better life through him.
What does it mean to be born from above? What does this look like?
Some of you may know the story of John Newton, the man who wrote the text of “Amazing Grace.” His life is a parable of what the Holy Spirit can do with a human life.
Newton was born in 1725 in London. John’s mother taught him to pray, but she died when he was 7, and his father drowned at sea when he was 17. His heart became hardened and he turned his back on God. Living as a sailor, he sought work with slave traders, trying to run as far away from England as possible and to smother his sorrows with alcohol. However, on one return trip to England, the ship was besieged by a fierce storm. John feared for his life and so he prayed to God for help. That was all the opening that the Holy Spirit needed, for John Newton’s heart was changed from that day onward. His life was set in a new direction, and he went on to become a faithful Anglican clergyman, a powerful preacher, and a leader in the movement to abolish slavery. “Amazing Grace” is one of hundreds of hymns that he wrote to be used at prayer meetings at his parish.
Literally for John Newton, the wind blew where it wills, and the Spirit of God came into his heart and he experienced eternal life.
We all know the caricature of the evangelical preachers who preach this text from the Gospel of John over and over again. “You must be born again!” There is deep truth here. There are many people that you know who need a new start, whose hearts are hardened by grief or hardship or anger. God wants to be in direct, personal relationship with each one of us. This is the truth. But unfortunately, if we stop here, we miss so much of the subtlety of this famous text.
Alone, in the dark of night, Nicodemus came to Jesus to speak with him. Jesus responds in the plural. “You all must be born from above.” Jesus moves the conversation away from the individual back to the community of the faithful, where God has always spoken.
What our Lords speaks of here is not so much the experience of the individual –though this is vital and crucial – but it is the transformation of the community.
Jesus teaches the teacher of Israel about a new birth. The language here is noticeably ambiguous. Perhaps it means being born again, or born anew, or born from above. But whatever the translation, the meaning is very clear: this is something different, different from what folks are used to.
To be baptized by water and the Spirit, to be brought into the living body of Christ – it means to have a direct experience of the grace and loving-kindness of God.
Kind of like the prophet Isaiah. Did you hear those words read for our First Lesson?
What do you think about Isaiah’s simple and yet awesome statement: “I saw the Lord”? I saw the Lord! This is an incredible account of a direct experience of the living God.
Many have seen in this vision of Isaiah an image of the entire Eucharist that is at the heart of our community in Christ. We gather with the heavenly host in praising the glory of God, the sacred Trinity. Here we find the inspiration for the Sanctus: that indispensable hymn sung in the Eucharistic prayer. “Holy, holy, holy.” Since the earliest days of the Church, the body of Christ has gathered together to worship and has sung this thrice-holy hymn, inspired by the vision of Isaiah.
Of course, we do not see God in the same way as Isaiah, but we have our own direct experience. We taste God in the bread and wine! Recognizing our unworthiness – “woe is me!”, we approach the altar. And what is it that is taken from the altar and which touches our mouths? It is not a live coal, but it is living bread. Living bread and flowing blood that are provided for the forgiveness of sins. And after this, we are sent out by the great God of life to be the Lord’s ambassadors. “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”
When we experience God, we are never allowed to keep this only to ourselves. For God so loved the world, and God is committed to bringing the healing work of the Gospel to all the nations through our words and actions.
Now, today is Trinity Sunday, the Church’s feast when we remember and celebrate the three Persons of the Trinity.
It has been a long-standing practice in the Anglican churches on Trinity Sunday to replace the Nicene Creed with the Athanasian Creed in the Liturgy. Now, I’ll bet that most of you are asking yourselves, “What in the world is the Athanasian Creed?” Did you know that it is printed right in the Prayer Book? The Creed of St. Athanasius is found on page 864. Let’s please turn to it for a moment. I would like to read the middle section only, the part that begins at the top of page 865.
“So the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Ghost is God.And yet they are not three Gods, but one God.So likewise the Father is Lord, the Son Lord, and the Holy Ghost Lord.And yet not three Lords, but one Lord.For like as we are compelled by the Christian verity to acknowledge ever y Person by Himself to be both God and Lord, so we are forbidden by the Catholic Religion, to say, there be three Gods,or three Lords.The Father is made of none, neither created, nor begotten.The Son is of the Father alone, not made, nor created, but begotten.The Holy Ghost is of the Father [and of the Son], neither made, nor created, nor begotten, but proceeding.So there is one Father, not three Fathers; one Son, not three Sons; one Holy Ghost, not three Holy Ghosts.And in this Trinity none is afore, or after other; none is greater, or less than another; but the whole three Persons are co-eternal together and co-equal.So that in all things, as is aforesaid, the Unity in Trinity and the Trinity in Unity is to be worshipped.He therefore that will be saved must thus think of the Trinity.”
This is the truth about God, and if we are to remain in the faith of the Church, we cannot stray from this truth. But remember that the wind blows where it chooses. John Newton was saved simply by calling out to God for help in the midst of a storm. There is no limit to the ways in which the Holy Spirit can work in our lives. And there is no limit to what Christ can do with a community of his faithful disciples, those who love Him and who are discovering a new kind of life through him. Thanks be to God that we have the grace of walking in this path together as the body of Christ. Amen.
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Holy Spirit, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville
Texts: Isaiah 6:1-8; Psalm 29; Romans 8:12-17; John 3:1-17
Alone, in the dark of night, the teacher, well-trained, well-educated, a city-dweller walks out into the orchard, seeking the country prophet from the hills, the one who speaks with surprising authority, and who heals the sick.
Nicodemus seeks for Jesus and he hopes for answers. He leaves the Master more confused than before, but touched by a Presence unlike anything else he has ever known.
For days, for weeks, no – for his entire life, Nicodemus chews upon those words, trying to soak up from them every last bit of divine meaning. His understanding is slow to change, but his heart is changed more quickly, and Nicodemus becomes a disciple. One who loves this man from Nazareth and who seeks a better life through him.
What does it mean to be born from above? What does this look like?
Some of you may know the story of John Newton, the man who wrote the text of “Amazing Grace.” His life is a parable of what the Holy Spirit can do with a human life.
Newton was born in 1725 in London. John’s mother taught him to pray, but she died when he was 7, and his father drowned at sea when he was 17. His heart became hardened and he turned his back on God. Living as a sailor, he sought work with slave traders, trying to run as far away from England as possible and to smother his sorrows with alcohol. However, on one return trip to England, the ship was besieged by a fierce storm. John feared for his life and so he prayed to God for help. That was all the opening that the Holy Spirit needed, for John Newton’s heart was changed from that day onward. His life was set in a new direction, and he went on to become a faithful Anglican clergyman, a powerful preacher, and a leader in the movement to abolish slavery. “Amazing Grace” is one of hundreds of hymns that he wrote to be used at prayer meetings at his parish.
Literally for John Newton, the wind blew where it wills, and the Spirit of God came into his heart and he experienced eternal life.
We all know the caricature of the evangelical preachers who preach this text from the Gospel of John over and over again. “You must be born again!” There is deep truth here. There are many people that you know who need a new start, whose hearts are hardened by grief or hardship or anger. God wants to be in direct, personal relationship with each one of us. This is the truth. But unfortunately, if we stop here, we miss so much of the subtlety of this famous text.
Alone, in the dark of night, Nicodemus came to Jesus to speak with him. Jesus responds in the plural. “You all must be born from above.” Jesus moves the conversation away from the individual back to the community of the faithful, where God has always spoken.
What our Lords speaks of here is not so much the experience of the individual –though this is vital and crucial – but it is the transformation of the community.
Jesus teaches the teacher of Israel about a new birth. The language here is noticeably ambiguous. Perhaps it means being born again, or born anew, or born from above. But whatever the translation, the meaning is very clear: this is something different, different from what folks are used to.
To be baptized by water and the Spirit, to be brought into the living body of Christ – it means to have a direct experience of the grace and loving-kindness of God.
Kind of like the prophet Isaiah. Did you hear those words read for our First Lesson?
What do you think about Isaiah’s simple and yet awesome statement: “I saw the Lord”? I saw the Lord! This is an incredible account of a direct experience of the living God.
Many have seen in this vision of Isaiah an image of the entire Eucharist that is at the heart of our community in Christ. We gather with the heavenly host in praising the glory of God, the sacred Trinity. Here we find the inspiration for the Sanctus: that indispensable hymn sung in the Eucharistic prayer. “Holy, holy, holy.” Since the earliest days of the Church, the body of Christ has gathered together to worship and has sung this thrice-holy hymn, inspired by the vision of Isaiah.
Of course, we do not see God in the same way as Isaiah, but we have our own direct experience. We taste God in the bread and wine! Recognizing our unworthiness – “woe is me!”, we approach the altar. And what is it that is taken from the altar and which touches our mouths? It is not a live coal, but it is living bread. Living bread and flowing blood that are provided for the forgiveness of sins. And after this, we are sent out by the great God of life to be the Lord’s ambassadors. “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”
When we experience God, we are never allowed to keep this only to ourselves. For God so loved the world, and God is committed to bringing the healing work of the Gospel to all the nations through our words and actions.
Now, today is Trinity Sunday, the Church’s feast when we remember and celebrate the three Persons of the Trinity.
It has been a long-standing practice in the Anglican churches on Trinity Sunday to replace the Nicene Creed with the Athanasian Creed in the Liturgy. Now, I’ll bet that most of you are asking yourselves, “What in the world is the Athanasian Creed?” Did you know that it is printed right in the Prayer Book? The Creed of St. Athanasius is found on page 864. Let’s please turn to it for a moment. I would like to read the middle section only, the part that begins at the top of page 865.
“So the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Ghost is God.And yet they are not three Gods, but one God.So likewise the Father is Lord, the Son Lord, and the Holy Ghost Lord.And yet not three Lords, but one Lord.For like as we are compelled by the Christian verity to acknowledge ever y Person by Himself to be both God and Lord, so we are forbidden by the Catholic Religion, to say, there be three Gods,or three Lords.The Father is made of none, neither created, nor begotten.The Son is of the Father alone, not made, nor created, but begotten.The Holy Ghost is of the Father [and of the Son], neither made, nor created, nor begotten, but proceeding.So there is one Father, not three Fathers; one Son, not three Sons; one Holy Ghost, not three Holy Ghosts.And in this Trinity none is afore, or after other; none is greater, or less than another; but the whole three Persons are co-eternal together and co-equal.So that in all things, as is aforesaid, the Unity in Trinity and the Trinity in Unity is to be worshipped.He therefore that will be saved must thus think of the Trinity.”
This is the truth about God, and if we are to remain in the faith of the Church, we cannot stray from this truth. But remember that the wind blows where it chooses. John Newton was saved simply by calling out to God for help in the midst of a storm. There is no limit to the ways in which the Holy Spirit can work in our lives. And there is no limit to what Christ can do with a community of his faithful disciples, those who love Him and who are discovering a new kind of life through him. Thanks be to God that we have the grace of walking in this path together as the body of Christ. Amen.
Prove the World Wrong!
Sermon for the Feast of Pentecost (RCL – B)
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Church of the Holy Spirit, Bellmawr
Texts: Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:25-37; Romans 8:22-27; John 15:26-27 & 16:4b-15
“And when he comes, the Holy Spirit will prove the world wrong.” Amen.
My dear friends: we are all gathered together here this morning as brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ, as a community in which the Holy Spirit is moving and working.
Today, by the grace of God, we bring into this community a new member: Royal Tomeo. Of course, I will have the privilege and grace of pouring the water on his head, but remember this: it is all of us together who are baptizing Royal this day. We are baptizing Royal into the fellowship of the Church.
But remember this as well: Royal is NOT baptized today as an Episcopalian. No one ever is baptized as a Catholic, a Methodist, a Baptist, a Presbyterian or anything else! Royal will be baptized today in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. So in another sense, it is not us at all who are doing the baptizing. It is in fact the Holy Spirit who will baptize Royal, who will immerse him into the new life we have in God.
This new life that we share together in the Holy Spirit – it changes us! It changes the way we act, the way we treat others. By the power of Holy Spirit, we are able to respect the dignity of every human being, to seek and serve Christ in all persons.
Tony Campolo tells a wonderful story of a time when he was in Haiti a few years back. Tony’s ministry works to promote good education for poor children in places like Haiti and the Dominican Republic, as well as places here like Camden. But once when Tony was in Port-au-Prince for a visit to check-up on the work there, as he was walking into the Holiday Inn hotel, three young girls intercepted him. They were probably about 15 years old. The one in the middle said to him, “Mister, for ten dollars you can have me all night long.”
Tony was shocked. He was aware of the extreme poverty in Haiti and what desperation that kind of poverty leads people to, but he wasn’t expecting this from girls so young. So he looked at the other two girls and asked them, “Can I have you each for ten dollars too?” They nodded yes, trying to hide their disgust for the bald, middle-aged American man. Quickly hatching a plan, Tony said, “Fine! I’ve got thirty dollars right here. I’m in Room 210. You be up there in half an hour. I’ll pay you then and I want all three of you for the whole night.”
As soon as he got up to his room, he called down to the concierge: “Send up every Disney movie you’ve got. If it’s made by Disney, send it up.” This was before the days when you could order a movie right on the TV. And then Tony called the hotel restaurant: “Do you make banana splits? Good! I want extra full banana splits, with extra fudge and extra whipped cream. And … I want four of them! Right away.” Pretty soon, the movies and the ice cream and the girls all arrived. And Tony sat them down on the bed and let them pick out movies that they would like to see. And they all ate ice cream and watched movies until 1 o’clock in the morning or so, when the girls all fell asleep.
And as Tony fell asleep on the chair in the corner of the room, he thought with disgust about how dirty men could abuse young girls like this, and how in the morning they will go back to the street and once again do whatever they can to find some money for their families. But at least for this one night, Tony felt sure that the Holy Spirit was speaking to him and guiding him to give these girls at least a chance to be kids again, to just have some fun together. At least for this one night, Tony could be a conduit for some blessing to these poor girls.
You see, the Holy Spirit proves the world wrong. There is a different way to be. We can treat others with dignity. By the power of the Spirit, we can love others with the love of Christ. It is our calling, and it is our gift, to love others in this way.
The famous Christian philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard (see his Works of Love) points out the distinction between celebrated love and commanded love. Celebrated love is the love about which people write poems, about which movies are made. Celebrated love is all about making a distinction: I love this one person more than any other. With this love, the lover makes a clear choice.
But commanded love, the love to which Christ calls us, the love which the Holy Spirit pours into our hearts, - this love makes no distinctions. This is the beauty and majesty of it.
You see, God intends that I learn to see every single woman as my sister, and every single man as my brother. Every single one, without exception. This is the love that God calls us to in Christ. But it’s not the kind of love that we are accustomed to talking about in society. No one sings a song about this kind of love! But when it comes down to it, it is this Holy Spirit-empowered, commanded love which has the power to change the world.
Let’s practice it for just a moment: please take a moment and look at your neighbor on each side of you in the eye and say to them, as is appropriate, “You are my sister.” Or, “you are my brother.”
The Spirit leads us into all truth, and this is the truth about us.
It doesn’t matter what your neighbor looks like, what language they speak, who they live with, where they come from. It doesn’t even matter what they have done in their lives. This new community love in the Spirit has no boundaries. This is the way God intended it to be.
Our Lord Jesus Christ has always had the intention of creating a community that includes people of every language and race and color and gender and orientation.
This is the heart of what it means to be “church”. We don’t get to choose our family in the church. God brings all together and makes something new and different.
This agape love that we share in Christian community is demonstrated clearly every time we gather to celebrate the Eucharist. This is what St. John Chrysostom wrote:
“The whole ceremony [of the Lord’s table] is [also] a meal at which everyone has an equal place at the table. Thus we are celebrating our fellowship as brothers and sisters, with Christ as our unseen elder brother at one end of the table, and God our unseen father presiding at the other end” (On Living Simply: The Golden Voice of John Chrysostom).
Our Lord speaks of the Spirit of Truth who comes to guide us into the truth about life, and who comes to prove the world wrong. The Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and is sent by the Son into community gathered in the name of Jesus. Nowhere in the New Testament do we see the Holy Spirit filling a lone individual; the coming of the Spirit always happens in the community of Christ’s body. “Where two or three are gathered together in my name…(Matthew 18:20).
I really love this image of the Spirit: “he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgment.” I love it, because every day I see a world that needs an awakening. Come on, Holy Spirit, let’s prove this crazy world wrong! Let’s prove this world wrong that “looking out for #1” is the only way to live, that “getting what is mine” is the way you have to be. Let’s prove the world wrong and show that there is an alternative, that Jesus creates a different kind of community where everyone is respected and honored and loved.
It is possible! We are the assembly of the Holy Spirit. When we gather together as God’s people, we create a free space where the words of Jesus, and the gifts of Jesus, are able to re-create the world, to make the world new again, to make us new again.
This is the work of the Holy Spirit. This is the mystery that we enter into today as we celebrate the baptism of our newest brother into this community of love which is unlike any other.
As the great St. John Chrysostom preached: “Nothing can destroy love which is rooted and grounded in Christ.” So may the Holy Spirit always bring forth this love among us. Amen.
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Church of the Holy Spirit, Bellmawr
Texts: Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:25-37; Romans 8:22-27; John 15:26-27 & 16:4b-15
“And when he comes, the Holy Spirit will prove the world wrong.” Amen.
My dear friends: we are all gathered together here this morning as brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ, as a community in which the Holy Spirit is moving and working.
Today, by the grace of God, we bring into this community a new member: Royal Tomeo. Of course, I will have the privilege and grace of pouring the water on his head, but remember this: it is all of us together who are baptizing Royal this day. We are baptizing Royal into the fellowship of the Church.
But remember this as well: Royal is NOT baptized today as an Episcopalian. No one ever is baptized as a Catholic, a Methodist, a Baptist, a Presbyterian or anything else! Royal will be baptized today in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. So in another sense, it is not us at all who are doing the baptizing. It is in fact the Holy Spirit who will baptize Royal, who will immerse him into the new life we have in God.
This new life that we share together in the Holy Spirit – it changes us! It changes the way we act, the way we treat others. By the power of Holy Spirit, we are able to respect the dignity of every human being, to seek and serve Christ in all persons.
Tony Campolo tells a wonderful story of a time when he was in Haiti a few years back. Tony’s ministry works to promote good education for poor children in places like Haiti and the Dominican Republic, as well as places here like Camden. But once when Tony was in Port-au-Prince for a visit to check-up on the work there, as he was walking into the Holiday Inn hotel, three young girls intercepted him. They were probably about 15 years old. The one in the middle said to him, “Mister, for ten dollars you can have me all night long.”
Tony was shocked. He was aware of the extreme poverty in Haiti and what desperation that kind of poverty leads people to, but he wasn’t expecting this from girls so young. So he looked at the other two girls and asked them, “Can I have you each for ten dollars too?” They nodded yes, trying to hide their disgust for the bald, middle-aged American man. Quickly hatching a plan, Tony said, “Fine! I’ve got thirty dollars right here. I’m in Room 210. You be up there in half an hour. I’ll pay you then and I want all three of you for the whole night.”
As soon as he got up to his room, he called down to the concierge: “Send up every Disney movie you’ve got. If it’s made by Disney, send it up.” This was before the days when you could order a movie right on the TV. And then Tony called the hotel restaurant: “Do you make banana splits? Good! I want extra full banana splits, with extra fudge and extra whipped cream. And … I want four of them! Right away.” Pretty soon, the movies and the ice cream and the girls all arrived. And Tony sat them down on the bed and let them pick out movies that they would like to see. And they all ate ice cream and watched movies until 1 o’clock in the morning or so, when the girls all fell asleep.
And as Tony fell asleep on the chair in the corner of the room, he thought with disgust about how dirty men could abuse young girls like this, and how in the morning they will go back to the street and once again do whatever they can to find some money for their families. But at least for this one night, Tony felt sure that the Holy Spirit was speaking to him and guiding him to give these girls at least a chance to be kids again, to just have some fun together. At least for this one night, Tony could be a conduit for some blessing to these poor girls.
You see, the Holy Spirit proves the world wrong. There is a different way to be. We can treat others with dignity. By the power of the Spirit, we can love others with the love of Christ. It is our calling, and it is our gift, to love others in this way.
The famous Christian philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard (see his Works of Love) points out the distinction between celebrated love and commanded love. Celebrated love is the love about which people write poems, about which movies are made. Celebrated love is all about making a distinction: I love this one person more than any other. With this love, the lover makes a clear choice.
But commanded love, the love to which Christ calls us, the love which the Holy Spirit pours into our hearts, - this love makes no distinctions. This is the beauty and majesty of it.
You see, God intends that I learn to see every single woman as my sister, and every single man as my brother. Every single one, without exception. This is the love that God calls us to in Christ. But it’s not the kind of love that we are accustomed to talking about in society. No one sings a song about this kind of love! But when it comes down to it, it is this Holy Spirit-empowered, commanded love which has the power to change the world.
Let’s practice it for just a moment: please take a moment and look at your neighbor on each side of you in the eye and say to them, as is appropriate, “You are my sister.” Or, “you are my brother.”
The Spirit leads us into all truth, and this is the truth about us.
It doesn’t matter what your neighbor looks like, what language they speak, who they live with, where they come from. It doesn’t even matter what they have done in their lives. This new community love in the Spirit has no boundaries. This is the way God intended it to be.
Our Lord Jesus Christ has always had the intention of creating a community that includes people of every language and race and color and gender and orientation.
This is the heart of what it means to be “church”. We don’t get to choose our family in the church. God brings all together and makes something new and different.
This agape love that we share in Christian community is demonstrated clearly every time we gather to celebrate the Eucharist. This is what St. John Chrysostom wrote:
“The whole ceremony [of the Lord’s table] is [also] a meal at which everyone has an equal place at the table. Thus we are celebrating our fellowship as brothers and sisters, with Christ as our unseen elder brother at one end of the table, and God our unseen father presiding at the other end” (On Living Simply: The Golden Voice of John Chrysostom).
Our Lord speaks of the Spirit of Truth who comes to guide us into the truth about life, and who comes to prove the world wrong. The Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and is sent by the Son into community gathered in the name of Jesus. Nowhere in the New Testament do we see the Holy Spirit filling a lone individual; the coming of the Spirit always happens in the community of Christ’s body. “Where two or three are gathered together in my name…(Matthew 18:20).
I really love this image of the Spirit: “he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgment.” I love it, because every day I see a world that needs an awakening. Come on, Holy Spirit, let’s prove this crazy world wrong! Let’s prove this world wrong that “looking out for #1” is the only way to live, that “getting what is mine” is the way you have to be. Let’s prove the world wrong and show that there is an alternative, that Jesus creates a different kind of community where everyone is respected and honored and loved.
It is possible! We are the assembly of the Holy Spirit. When we gather together as God’s people, we create a free space where the words of Jesus, and the gifts of Jesus, are able to re-create the world, to make the world new again, to make us new again.
This is the work of the Holy Spirit. This is the mystery that we enter into today as we celebrate the baptism of our newest brother into this community of love which is unlike any other.
As the great St. John Chrysostom preached: “Nothing can destroy love which is rooted and grounded in Christ.” So may the Holy Spirit always bring forth this love among us. Amen.
In and Out Among Us
Sermon for the Sunday after the Ascension (RCL – Year B)
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Holy Spirit, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville
Texts: Acts 1:15-17,21-26 ; Psalm 1; 1 John 5:9-13 ; John 17:6-19
My friends, today we find ourselves in a state of narrative limbo.
This is an odd Sunday in the cycle of the Church year. We find ourselves today between the departure and the arrival. Today we sit in the waiting room. The ascension has passed. Our Lord Jesus has gone up into the heavens, but the Holy Spirit has not yet come.
But it’s not only odd for us. It certainly was odd for the apostles as well. What do we see them doing now in this waiting time? The work of the kingdom is on hold. So they gather to take care of administrative details. They need to elect another apostle. It’s a fairly mundane task. Matthias is elected by way of a prayer and a coin toss. He fills the vacant spot, but after this, he sinks away out of sight. Never again do we hear about Matthias in the New Testament.
This does not mean, however, that Matthias was not a faithful and devoted disciple. We must be careful not to confuse faithfulness with success.
“Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor lingered in the way of sinners.”
Let us remember that to be righteous is to be filled with a true inner goodness that reflects the amazing generosity of our Creator. But it is not flashy or spectacular. Most of the time, righteousness is a very mundane, ordinary affair. Most righteous actions go unnoticed and unrecorded.
Is this perhaps why the way of the righteous seems so hard to follow? Is this perhaps why the path of the wicked is so enticing to follow, even for those who know better?
If you pay attention to general church news, you will know that these days are filled with dark and confounding headlines.
Last week, a special commission of the Republic of Ireland released a 5-volume report that details 80 years of abuse committed against thousands of Irish children by monks and nuns of the Roman church. 2,600 pages of systematic and brutal violence against children in need: orphans and foster children. Along with numerous personal testimonies, these investigators were able to review confidential Vatican documents that clearly demonstrated how pedophiles in Ireland were known even back in the 1930s, and how they were protected by the church and moved to new posts whenever suspicions about their behavior arose.
The life lived by these children was horrendous. Thousands of children were forced to work every day producing rosaries, and were beaten every evening if they failed to meet their quota. Think of the shameful irony here: rosaries made to honor the Mother of God, and to remember the birth and childhood of Christ, made by frightened, tortured, abused children whose prayer to God for help was left unanswered for decades.
Think also of the twisted irony when he hear these words from our Lord: “I protected [those you have given me]. I guarded them, and not one of them was lost except the one destined to be lost.”
I guarded them, I protected them. But how many have we lost today? How many has the church lost in our day?
God, forgive us for tolerating anything else but godliness and faithfulness among our leaders. God, forgive us, your people, for failing to protect and guard those you have given to us, for losing the children.
In the Gospel of John, this is called our Lord’s High Priestly Prayer, in which he intercedes on our behalf with the Holy Father of life. His words strike the heart: “Sanctify them in the truth,” he prayed, “your word is truth.”
But we human beings are quite adept at hiding from the truth. The annals of the wicked never cease to be written. Many of you heard of Father Charles Newman, who served as President of Archbishop Ryan High School, the largest Catholic school in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia. Two weeks ago he pleaded guilty to forgery and to stealing somewhere between $600,000 to $900,000 from the school and from his own Franciscan brothers. What could a single priest possible do with that kind of money?
More than that, my question is this: why is the narrow way of the righteous so difficult to follow? Do you think this money made Father Newman a happy man? Do you think he is happy now that he, at 58 years of age, will spend the next decade of his life in prison?
However: “The righteous are like trees planted by streams of living water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither; everything they do shall prosper.”
The truth is that it has been this way in every generation of the church. As the great Saint Augustine said back in the 5th century, the church is a corpus permixtum: a mixed-up body, all jumbled together with both good and evil. But quietly in the background, rarely drawing attention to themselves, the saints of God continue on as the righteous of the Lord, with God’s love burning in their hearts, committed to living like their Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, to allowing his light to shine in them and through them.
You know the stories of the righteous, and the problem with determining between the two. How easily we mistake success for faithfulness.
Let’s take two recent examples of famous people recently in the news.
Mel Gibson is a famous actor and one who made a lot of noise when he decided to fund and direct The Passion of the Christ , released back in 2004. His stated aim was to present the truth of our Lord’s passion with artistic clarity and vision. Gibson, a staunch Roman Catholic, is a very successful man by most people’s standards. His fortune is estimated at $1.5 billion. He has been married for 28 years to Robyn Moore, the mother of his seven children. But now his mistress is expecting a child, and so he has left his family and is getting a divorce. Unfortunately, his apparent love for the Lord did not penetrate his heart, where it really matters. He has lingered in the way of sinners.
In contrast, take the new internet star, Susan Boyle, of Britain’s Got Talent fame. If you do not know her, she is a 47 year old single woman from Blackburn in western England who loves to sing and has an amazing voice. You never heard of her before April, when she made her television debut, because she spent much of her adult life working in a college cafeteria and caring for her ill mother. The youngest of nine children, Susan was born with mild brain damage. In school, she had learning difficulties and was bullied by her schoolmates. But she never lost her joy in life, and she faithfully labored at her mother’s side until her passing. Susan Boyle also is a faithful Catholic, and it seems that the message of God’s sacrificial love on the cross has indeed made a difference in her heart. Before her singing made its way across the internet like wildfire, she lived a life of quiet righteousness. Doing what needs to be done, doing what is right without any consideration for personal gain.
Remember, my friends: trees planted by streams of water grow quietly but steadily upward and onward. The fruit of our lives show clearly what is in our hearts. The light of God’s truth will always prevail. And the most important thing is for us to be faithful, faithful in all the small tasks of love that the Holy Spirit brings to us every day.
So may it always be among us here who are called together to new life in Jesus Christ. Amen.
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Holy Spirit, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville
Texts: Acts 1:15-17,21-26 ; Psalm 1; 1 John 5:9-13 ; John 17:6-19
My friends, today we find ourselves in a state of narrative limbo.
This is an odd Sunday in the cycle of the Church year. We find ourselves today between the departure and the arrival. Today we sit in the waiting room. The ascension has passed. Our Lord Jesus has gone up into the heavens, but the Holy Spirit has not yet come.
But it’s not only odd for us. It certainly was odd for the apostles as well. What do we see them doing now in this waiting time? The work of the kingdom is on hold. So they gather to take care of administrative details. They need to elect another apostle. It’s a fairly mundane task. Matthias is elected by way of a prayer and a coin toss. He fills the vacant spot, but after this, he sinks away out of sight. Never again do we hear about Matthias in the New Testament.
This does not mean, however, that Matthias was not a faithful and devoted disciple. We must be careful not to confuse faithfulness with success.
“Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor lingered in the way of sinners.”
Let us remember that to be righteous is to be filled with a true inner goodness that reflects the amazing generosity of our Creator. But it is not flashy or spectacular. Most of the time, righteousness is a very mundane, ordinary affair. Most righteous actions go unnoticed and unrecorded.
Is this perhaps why the way of the righteous seems so hard to follow? Is this perhaps why the path of the wicked is so enticing to follow, even for those who know better?
If you pay attention to general church news, you will know that these days are filled with dark and confounding headlines.
Last week, a special commission of the Republic of Ireland released a 5-volume report that details 80 years of abuse committed against thousands of Irish children by monks and nuns of the Roman church. 2,600 pages of systematic and brutal violence against children in need: orphans and foster children. Along with numerous personal testimonies, these investigators were able to review confidential Vatican documents that clearly demonstrated how pedophiles in Ireland were known even back in the 1930s, and how they were protected by the church and moved to new posts whenever suspicions about their behavior arose.
The life lived by these children was horrendous. Thousands of children were forced to work every day producing rosaries, and were beaten every evening if they failed to meet their quota. Think of the shameful irony here: rosaries made to honor the Mother of God, and to remember the birth and childhood of Christ, made by frightened, tortured, abused children whose prayer to God for help was left unanswered for decades.
Think also of the twisted irony when he hear these words from our Lord: “I protected [those you have given me]. I guarded them, and not one of them was lost except the one destined to be lost.”
I guarded them, I protected them. But how many have we lost today? How many has the church lost in our day?
God, forgive us for tolerating anything else but godliness and faithfulness among our leaders. God, forgive us, your people, for failing to protect and guard those you have given to us, for losing the children.
In the Gospel of John, this is called our Lord’s High Priestly Prayer, in which he intercedes on our behalf with the Holy Father of life. His words strike the heart: “Sanctify them in the truth,” he prayed, “your word is truth.”
But we human beings are quite adept at hiding from the truth. The annals of the wicked never cease to be written. Many of you heard of Father Charles Newman, who served as President of Archbishop Ryan High School, the largest Catholic school in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia. Two weeks ago he pleaded guilty to forgery and to stealing somewhere between $600,000 to $900,000 from the school and from his own Franciscan brothers. What could a single priest possible do with that kind of money?
More than that, my question is this: why is the narrow way of the righteous so difficult to follow? Do you think this money made Father Newman a happy man? Do you think he is happy now that he, at 58 years of age, will spend the next decade of his life in prison?
However: “The righteous are like trees planted by streams of living water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither; everything they do shall prosper.”
The truth is that it has been this way in every generation of the church. As the great Saint Augustine said back in the 5th century, the church is a corpus permixtum: a mixed-up body, all jumbled together with both good and evil. But quietly in the background, rarely drawing attention to themselves, the saints of God continue on as the righteous of the Lord, with God’s love burning in their hearts, committed to living like their Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, to allowing his light to shine in them and through them.
You know the stories of the righteous, and the problem with determining between the two. How easily we mistake success for faithfulness.
Let’s take two recent examples of famous people recently in the news.
Mel Gibson is a famous actor and one who made a lot of noise when he decided to fund and direct The Passion of the Christ , released back in 2004. His stated aim was to present the truth of our Lord’s passion with artistic clarity and vision. Gibson, a staunch Roman Catholic, is a very successful man by most people’s standards. His fortune is estimated at $1.5 billion. He has been married for 28 years to Robyn Moore, the mother of his seven children. But now his mistress is expecting a child, and so he has left his family and is getting a divorce. Unfortunately, his apparent love for the Lord did not penetrate his heart, where it really matters. He has lingered in the way of sinners.
In contrast, take the new internet star, Susan Boyle, of Britain’s Got Talent fame. If you do not know her, she is a 47 year old single woman from Blackburn in western England who loves to sing and has an amazing voice. You never heard of her before April, when she made her television debut, because she spent much of her adult life working in a college cafeteria and caring for her ill mother. The youngest of nine children, Susan was born with mild brain damage. In school, she had learning difficulties and was bullied by her schoolmates. But she never lost her joy in life, and she faithfully labored at her mother’s side until her passing. Susan Boyle also is a faithful Catholic, and it seems that the message of God’s sacrificial love on the cross has indeed made a difference in her heart. Before her singing made its way across the internet like wildfire, she lived a life of quiet righteousness. Doing what needs to be done, doing what is right without any consideration for personal gain.
Remember, my friends: trees planted by streams of water grow quietly but steadily upward and onward. The fruit of our lives show clearly what is in our hearts. The light of God’s truth will always prevail. And the most important thing is for us to be faithful, faithful in all the small tasks of love that the Holy Spirit brings to us every day.
So may it always be among us here who are called together to new life in Jesus Christ. Amen.
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