The Whole Fullness of Deity

Sermon for Proper 12 C RCL 7-25-2010

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:             Hosea 1:2-10; Psalm 85; Colossians 2:6-19; Luke 11:1-13

Recently, I heard a story from someone who attended a church summer camp a number of years ago. During one of the large group gatherings, a group of men dressed all in black rushed into the chapel. They were carrying machine guns and they immediately went up to the front and tied up the four pastors who were there, and they held a gun to the head of the main pastor. And one of the masked men yelled out over the noise to the hundreds of camp kids and counselors who were there that anyone who is a Christian needs to stand up.

A few brave souls stood up – the faithful few, but the rest ran out all of the doors in a chaotic scramble. There were kids running all through the woods, scared and crying, with girls screaming, older kids cursing. And as this one particular camper tells the story, she and her friends were running back to their cabin to find a safe place to hide when they saw camp counselors going along all of the paths with flashlights and bullhorns. And the counselors were proclaiming to everyone with their bullhorns: “Don’t be afraid. It’s not real; it’s only a play!” You see, it all was just a skit designed to be part of the chapel lesson that night!

Some zealous, probably well-intentioned, but very inexperienced young person must have planned that skit, because they thought that it was a great way to teach a lesson about the boldness of Christians, that we ought to be brave to stand up for our faith in the face of any kind of danger.

This lesson is very much like the one intended by those who have often posed this question: “If you were arrested for being a Christian, would they have enough evidence to convict you?”

I don’t often think about my potential response to this kind of challenge to my faith, but I thought about it this past week in response to our reading today from the Letter to the Colossians.

Here in our passage today, we are given a litany of different forces at work in the milieu of the first century which had the potential to distract or subvert the faith of these Christians. Philosophy, empty deceit, human tradition, the elemental spirits of the universe (whatever these might be, nobody seems to know!), matters of food and drink, festivals, new moons, Sabbaths, self-abasement, the worship of angels, visions, human ways of thinking.

We, of course, cannot relate necessarily to this particular list, because we have our own forces at work in our society that have the potential to de-rail our life with Christ.

And as I thought about these challenges to my faith, it seems clear that the greatest danger, for me at least, is what I will call the general malaise of secularism. That is, it is so easy to fall into an easy pattern of busyness, to go about life doing what we do, trusting in our abilities and our technologies to keep life moving along. And before we know it, a day, a week, a month passes before we really give God much of a thought.

It’s really all about time. When the question is asked if they would have enough evidence to convict me as a Christian, I think that the most important measure of this is the amount of time that I intentionally spend on my relationship with God.

There is no deep and healthy relationship without a noticeable, measurable amount of time spent together by two people with the intention of knowing each other more deeply.

As most of you know, we men tend to be very good at being able to pick up a friendship right where we left off, even if we haven’t seen each other in a year or more. That’s how it is for me and my friends. We see each other once or twice a year. It’s really no big deal to most of us men, and I have a hunch that a lot of men feel this same way about God. “It’s no big deal,” they think, “when I get back to church eventually, God and I will pick up right where we left off!”

But it doesn’t work that way with deeper relationships. You can’t do that with your spouse, your partner, your girlfriend!

When we are talking about our relationship with God, what we are talking about is the intentional time that we spend in prayer. When you boil it all down, our regular daily practice of prayer IS the measure of our closeness, and our bond of connection, with God.

Jesus himself spent regular time in prayer abiding in that close connection with the one he called “Abba”. When the disciples ask about his prayer practice, so that they might learn from his experience, he begins with this signature note of his teaching about the nature of God: Abba.

Of course, we say “Our Father, who art in heaven.” We say it so much that it is likely that we forget how tremendous a gift that this represents. To call God our Abba, our Daddy, our Papa, means that we have now been brought into the same intimate connection with God as Jesus himself experienced. The same. Brothers and sisters together in the same family!

The mystery of the Incarnation allows pulls us in this direction: God became what we are in Christ – God took up our human nature – in order that we might become what God is – that we might take up the divine nature.

St. Paul sums it up very clearly for us in our reading today. “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily” (Colossians  2:9). That’s mind-blowing, and to be honest, we humans still haven’t quite figured out all the implications of that.

Eugene Peterson, in his free-form contemporary translation called  The Message, puts that verse in this way: “Everything of God gets expressed in him, so you can see and hear him clearly. You don't need a telescope, a microscope, or a horoscope to realize the fullness of Christ, and the emptiness of the universe without him” (emphasis added).  

The fullness of God’s nature is seen clearly in Jesus Christ, because he is the Incarnation of God. But this verse continues, and here we find the kicker: “AND YOU have come to fullness in him” (Colossians 2:10).

You and I have come to fullness in Christ. What more can we ask for, then, but to actually and tangibly experience this fullness, this completeness in our daily lives because of our close relationship with God.

This week, my friends, as you go about your busy lives, spend a few minutes each day thinking about the Lord’s Prayer. Don’t rush through it, as usual. Pause on each phrase, each distinctive word, and let the Spirit guide you into new and creative ways to understand these familiar words. Meditate on them, my friends. Chew on them mentally.

And remember that it is a gift of the fullness of Christ that we are privileged to call God our Abba, our Father. Amen.   

A Shout-out to the Ambrefe's!

A great big hello to our friends from Boxford, Massachusettes! Brian, Mary, Lyndon, and Avery Ambrefe!

For the sake of nostalgia, here are a few pictures that I could find from our days up in Topsfield, when we were able to see the Ambrefe's on a regular basis. This picture is from Holy Week 2004 (I think). Note how small the children were then! 

Here is the rectory backyard, about the time when we held the 100 Inch Snow Party for the parish! Once we had received 100 inches of snow for the season (by my careful calculations), the Ambrefe's joined others for an afternoon filled with Sugar-on-Snow  treats, ice skating, sledding down our huge snow-plow pile, snowshoeing in the woods, playing in the snow fort, etc. This was in early March 2005, and it was a great day.

And With All Your Mind!

Sermon for Proper 11C RCL 7-18-2010, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Amos 8:1-12; Psalm 52; Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42

Today we are given this great story from the Gospel of Luke to ponder. Mary and Martha are presented to us as two different models of discipleship, two divergent paths by which we faithfully love and serve the Lord. Of course, Mary is the exalted one, the one highlighted as choosing the better path. But wisdom demands that we never forget the importance of labor and work which Martha represents.

Back in the 4th century, a certain man came to a monastery in the desert at Mount Sinai and he saw a busy community full of activity. He spoke to the abbot there and said, “Why do you all work for the bread that perishes? Mary has chosen the best part, namely to sit at the feet of the Lord without working!”

So the abbot called to one of his monks and said, “Give this brother a book and let him read, and put him up in an empty cell.”

By the time the ninth hour arrived (3 o’clock in the afternoon), the visitor who was reading began to look outside to see if the abbot would call him to dinner. After a while longer, he went out to find the abbot and asked him. “Did the brethren not eat today, father?”

“Oh yes, certainly,” replied the abbot. “They just had dinner.” “Well, then, why didn’t you call me?”

“You, of course, are a spiritual man,” said the abbot. “You don’t need this food which perishes. We have to work, but you have chosen the best part. You read all day, and can get along without food!”

The visitor was humbled and replied, “Forgive me, father.”

And the wise abbot replied, “Martha is necessary to Mary, for it was because Martha worked that Mary was able to be praised!” (from The Wisdom of the Desert by Thomas Merton, p. 36).

Another time among the Desert Fathers and Mothers in the 4th century, it was told that the famous Abbot called John the Dwarf once called his elder brother and told him, “I want to live in the same security as the angels have, doing no work, but serving God without intermission.” And so he stripped off all his clothes, left everything behind and walked out into the desert, unattached and free.

After only one week, John the Dwarf returned to his brother and knocked on his door. Before opening, the brother called out, “Who are you?” The reply came, “I am John.”

Then the brother answered, “John has become an angel and is no longer among men.” But John the Dwarf kept knocking and pleading to be let in. For a long time, the brother did not open the door, until finally he did so. But before he let John inside, he said to him, “If you are a man, you are going to have to start working again in order to live. But if you are an angel, why do you want to come inside?”

So John the Dwarf did penance and said, “Forgive me, brother, for I have sinned" (Ibid, p.41)

These fun, little stories from the ancient desert reflect the wisdom of the church that will not allow us to adopt an extreme position which negates the importance of either sister. Poor Martha! Her stature is humbled in this story, but we all know that her efforts are absolutely necessary after all.

So what then is the Gospel telling us through this story? We have to see this famous story of Martha and Mary as the other side of the coin along with the story of the Good Samaritan. These two are purposefully put together by Luke to give concrete expression to the summary of the law from earlier in Chapter 10: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27).

In the Good Samaritan, we see the love of neighbor; in Mary and Martha, we see the love of God.

Both of these also fulfill the vision of Jesus from earlier in Luke when he said, “My mother and brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it” (Luke 8:21).

For Mary hears the word of God. It is Martha and the Samaritan who do it!

The apostle Paul stated that faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ (Romans 10:17). To love the Lord our God with all our mind means that we hear Christ speak and then we have to think. God wants us to think carefully about how we live. Our task as disciples is, like Mary, to sit at the feet of the Lord, to listen carefully to his teaching, and to do our best to put this teaching into practice in our daily actions.

My friends, it’s not the easy way to live, but you and I are called to be diligent in thinking. We are promised that it is in fact the way to an abundant and full life.

For instance, my conscience will not allow me to use a gas-powered mower for our lawn. Now, I am not so vain as to stand here and say to you that Jesus told me not to do this! That would be ridiculous! But this conviction has come about as a result of thinking carefully in light of the Gospels.

Let me ask you: is it right that my vanity to have a perfectly manicured lawn, and my desire to avoid physical extertion, is a good cause for us to invade other nations to secure a good oil supply for the future? Or to drill holes in the bottom of the ocean? Because of our inability to control ourselves, we place so much of the world at great risk – both the natural world and human society! I know that we need oil for our society to function. I’m not that naïve. But the truth is that I DON’T need it for my lawn!

Jesus teaches me to weigh these two factors: concern about what my neighbors might say about my imperfect lawn (since our old-fashioned reel mower doesn’t provide as close of a cut) or the health of the world and the peace of human society. It may be easier to use a gas mower, and it may provide better results, but does that mean that it is the best option?

Truth be told, it is difficult at times to live as a Christian, to think with such vigilance about our actions. Last week, I had an appointment to have my teeth cleaned by my dentist. And during the cleaning, the hygienist asked me, “Do you use an electric toothbrush?” Of course, I couldn’t answer, with four of her fingers and a suction tube shoved in my mouth! But I shook my head no and she suggested that it really would be a good idea.

I didn’t give her my explanation when I finally had free use of my mouth again, but the truth is that we cannot do that! If all 6.85 billion people in the world used electric toothbrushes, then we would need to build more power plants just to power all of these brushes! (I actually researched this, and it would take approximately 22 Gigawatts of energy per year to power all of these toobrushes!)

No. We need to be smarter than that. When nearly one billion people today do not have access to reliable electricity at all, for me, this would be the selfish misuse of resources!

The point is this, my brothers and sisters: when we listen to what Jesus’ teaches, when we think about our lives in light of his teaching, we learn that self-interest can never be the primary measure for any of our decisions. To love my neighbor as myself means that I am willing, and able, to lay aside my own desires in order to consider the needs of others, whoever they might be. To love God with all my mind means that I am willing, and able, to consider carefully the effects of my actions upon others, whoever they might be.

So may God give us all grace to listen like Mary to the word of Christ, then to bring the practical wisdom of Martha, and the compassion of the Good Samaritan, to bear upon our decisions, so that we may think and to act as those who hear the Word of God and do it - as disciples of Christ in this world. Amen.

More house work

July is my month for house work, as my family is away at the cabin in New Hampshire and I then have a flexible schedule to attack large projects on this old house. Here are a few pictures of my recent work:

Exposing the front of the house by removing the old asbestos shingles and aluminum trim.

Repairing a rotten front corner of the house. See the blown-in insulation. What a mess!

GO AND DO LIKEWISE!

Sermon for Proper 10 C RCL 7-11-2010, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Amos 7:7-17; Psalm 82; Colossians 1:1-14; Luke 10:25-37


Christen White Cranford was a young woman in her early ‘20’s who died from a heart ailment in 2002. At the time, her father, Dr. Stephen White, was serving as the chaplain of the Episcopal Church at Princeton University. In the eulogy for his daughter, he shared a remarkable story of an experience that he and Christen had together in NYC. She was 15, and they had gone into Manhattan for a day trip just after Christmas. It was a bitterly cold and windy day and Christen was wearing her favorite coat. It was a long woolen coat with black and white checkered pattern on it. At one point, they stopped in an Eddie Bauer store where Dr. White bought a new parka for Christen. She put it on and placed her favorite coat in the shopping bag.

As they walked on outside they came across a young woman with a cup asking for money. She was very thin and wearing only jeans and a light cotton sweater. The sweater was pulled down over her shoulder and they could see that her bare skin was nearly gray from the cold. Dr. White pulled out some loose change in his pocket – a few dollars and coins – and dropped them into her cup. But when they crossed the street, Christen stopped and said, “Dad, we have to do something for her.”

“What would you like to do?” he asked. “I want to give her my coat.” “What! Your favorite coat?”

“Dad! She needs it more than I do, and anyway, I’ve got two coats!” She said this with that teenage “I can’t believe you’re so stupid” tone of voice.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said. They crossed back to the young woman and Christen helped her to put the long coat on. Once that was done, Dr. White was ready to keep moving in that cold wind, so he turned to leave. But Christen stayed and called to him, “Dad, she’s hungry too!”

“Right! Okay, I’ll go into that deli and get something. You stay here and keep an eye on her in case she moves off and I’ll be right back.”

Dr. White purchased some hot soup and bread in the deli and returned to the corner in less than five minutes. But when he returned, the young woman was gone!

“Christen, where is she?” “She’s gone – she disappeared!”

“What do you mean she disappeared? Didn’t you watch her?”

“Yes! I only looked over my shoulder for a split second to see if you were coming and when I turned back, she was gone. I went to the corner and looked up and down the street and across the street, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. She just disappeared!”

So they walked on. In a few minutes, they came upon another homeless person sitting on the ground, and Christen gave him the soup and bread with a smile. And as they walked, she and her father talked about the time, in the Gospel of Matthew, when Jesus said, “whatever you do for the least of my brothers and sisters, you do it for me.”

I share this story with you because, here in this young girl, in Christen’s attitude – in her ability to see – we have a glimpse of what Jesus is going after in this famous and fantastic parable of the good Samaritan.

What Jesus hopes to see is a change in vision, a change in the lens through which we view other people.

It is exemplary that Christen was able to see this young homeless woman and to be moved by pity into action. Unfortunately, do you know what usually happens when I see homeless people asking for money? I think to myself, “Forget it, pal. All my extra money is paid in taxes. Go ask the government for money! There are plenty of agencies around that can help you!”

I’m being honest with you. I’m not holding myself up as any kind of example. Because what goes on in my head, I think, is probably the same process of justifications that occurred in the minds of the priest and the Levite who passed on by that bloody man in need on the side of the road.

Those justifications in their heads told them that they have no direct obligation toward this suffering person, that their own personal business was much more important than the clear and obvious need right in front of them. But they were wrong, and most often, when I justify myself, I am wrong as well.

What is remarkable about how Jesus responds to this inquiry from the lawyer is that, of course, he does not even answer the question! “And who is my neighbor?” Instead, he responds with a story and with his own question which serves to re-direct the entire discussion.

Jesus throws away that entire law-based question about the boundaries of neighborliness: who is, and who is not my neighbor. Meaning, who am I obligated to treat with love as a neighbor, and who am I allowed to ignore, to pass by without show of mercy.

As long as we continue to think along these lines – of obligation, of duty, of law – then we will continue to miss the mark of God’s will and purpose for our lives! Jesus said that when the Samaritan saw the half-dead traveler lying on the side of the road, “he was moved with pity.” But in the Greek, it literally means that his bowels were moved. This has nothing to do with bodily functions, of course. What it means in the Greek is that his entire insides were wrenched and torn! That he was physically not able to coldly walk by! Because his heart was tender, and he could feel his neighbor’s pain, and he was not able to NOT respond with mercy!

And he didn’t stop and calculate whether or not he was obligated to help this man! Love forced him to act! It flowed out, and he couldn’t help himself!

That’s the kind of people that Jesus wants us to be!

The questions that the Lord puts before us today are these: who is it that I keep passing by? Whose pain and struggle do I feel more comfortable ignoring than taking seriously? Whose suffering do I see every day and yet am unwilling to lift a finger to assuage?

Each one of us will have different personal answers to those questions, depending upon the life situation in which God has placed us, but the big answer that is common to this entire community is very clear to me: it is the city of Camden.

As long as we try to pass on by and go about our business, and try to ignore the mass of human suffering and hardship which exists every day just a few miles up this road, we are insulting the very name of Christian which we bear.

But even more than that: as long as we sit back and allow Camden to fester and decay, we are allowing that catastrophe to drag all of our communities down as well, and we are doing nothing but passing along these problems to our children!

If practical reasoning cannot move us to respond to the need right in front of us, then perhaps the love of God can compel us into action! Because this truth seems clear to me: we must find a way to fix the city of Camden. We must do it.

This much I know for certain: Jesus will not allow us to simply and coldly pass by on the other side of the road, going about our business as if nothing is happening. As if thousands of children right here in Camden are not hungry and scared and sick and in danger every single day!

I confess that I do not have a solution for the plethora of problems that plague Camden, but – my friends – pity and mercy and love do not wait for solutions!

Which one was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers? The one who showed him mercy.

What is our calling as the people of God in this time and place? Go and do likewise. Amen.

Ten Rungs Into the Summer Air

After a week of the most intense heat that I have ever felt in New Jersey, a poem came to me. Every night (and on my days off), I am working on our house exterior. Well, these words came to me in the heat high up on our 32' ladder as I was thinking about my lovely wife, Erin. It's a personal poem written for her, but I thought I'd share it with the world as well. Why not? Maybe it will be a blessing to someone else as well.

Ten Rungs Into the Summer Air

Which is better for a man:

to know how to make money
or to know how to make love


Random thoughts fly in and out
Haze and heat induced
like the cumulous clouds
seen from my elevated perch
so full of promise and potential
yet unable to deliver

The drought lingers on
the account stays negative
No rain dance will change this pattern


At least I know how
to make you feel good
with the one thing
I can (usually) control.

The Story of Pat Tillman

I recently finished listening to an audio recording of a new book by Jon Krakauer, Where Men Win Glory.

Great background into the entire struggle in Afghanistan in which we as a people are still embroiled. Also, a deep look into the life of a fascinating man: Pat Tillman. I think I would have truly enjoyed being his friend, if I had had that opportunity. Even though he was an avowed atheist, he and I approach life with many similarities.

Even more riveting is the in-depth reporting of the appalling behavior of the Army in using his death as a marketing tool, and in subverting the truth. Telling lies to the family of a dead Army Ranger is not worthy of this nation, which professes such high ideals. We need to do better than that; we the people need to demand better  than that.

I recommend this as a good read which may get you thinking. Next, I think I will pick up the book by his mother to learn more about Pat, how he thought, and how he lived his life:
Boots on the Ground by Dusk: My Tribute to Pat Tillman

House picture

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Sent from my Verizon Wireless mobile phone

Summer House work

This is a snapshot of the work I'm doing on our house now.
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Sent from my Verizon Wireless mobile phone

Crazy heat here in New Jersey! 100 degrees for 4 days in a row. Riding the snow in Tuckerman's sounds perfect right now!

The Cross of our Lord

Sermon for Proper 9 C RCL 7-4-2010, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: 2 Kings 5:1-14; Psalm 30; Galatians 6:7-16; Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

On this day, we celebrate the declaration of our nation’s independence from the rule of the King of Great Britain. This declaration took place 234 years ago, but it continues to have great significance for our lives and for many around the world.

We are proud – rightly so – of the bravery and resolve of our forebears in declaring this freedom from tyranny, and also in their willingness to risk everything to turn that declaration into a reality.

We are proud also of the role that our Episcopal Church played in the founding of this nation. The history of our Episcopal Church cannot be separated from the history of our nation’s founding. Just across the river in Philadelphia, the founding events of our nation and our church took place in the later years of the 18th century.

Of course, the first place we have to look for these connections is Christ Church in Old City, Philadelphia, about 5 miles as the crow flies from where we worship here today. How many of you have taken a tour of Christ Church?

Do you know that Benjamin Franklin, Betsy Ross and their families attended Christ Church? Did you know that George Washington and John Adams, when they lived in Philadelphia as the nation’s President, both attended Christ Church and worshipped by using the Book of Common Prayer?

Did you know that the one-time rector of Christ Church, William White, served as the Chaplain of both the Continental Congress and the new United States Senate?

Once the Continental Congress moved to New York in 1785, they elected a new Chaplain who was Samuel Provoost, the rector of Trinity Episcopal Church now on Wall Street. Provoost also presided over the prayers for the inauguration of General Washington as first President of the United States.

This inter-connected history continues even to this day. Most major national celebrations take place today within our National Cathedral in Washington. We built this in fulfillment of our vision to serve as the nation’s church. It has always been the vision of the Episcopal Church.

The Episcopal Church as we know it today was created at the first General Convention which met at Christ Church, Philadelphia in 1785. That Convention authorized a new Prayer Book, and the Preface of that book is included in our Prayer Book today. Let’s turn to it and read 2 key paragraphs together:

(Paragraphs 5&6 of the Preface to the first Book of Common Prayer in these United States ,Philadelphia, PA, October 1789)

“But when in the course of Divine Providence, these American States became independent with respect to civil government, their ecclesiastical independence was necessarily included; and the different religious denominations of Christians in these States were left at full and equal liberty to model and organize their respective Churches, and forms of worship, and discipline, in such manner as they might judge most convenient for their future prosperity; consistently with the constitution and laws of their country.

The attention of this Church was in the first place drawn to those alterations in the Liturgy which became necessary in the prayers for our Civil Rulers, in consequence of the Revolution. And the principal care herein was to make them conformable to what ought to be the proper end of all such prayers, namely, that "Rulers may have grace, wisdom, and understanding to execute justice, and to maintain truth;" and that the people "may lead quiet and peaceable lives, in all godliness and honesty."

All of these truths cause us to be very proud: proud of our American heritage, and proud of our church’s key role in the formation of this nation. We have a reason to be proud; we have a right to celebrate today.

But there is a difficulty for us as Christians in displaying this pride. What is it that St. Paul wrote to the Galatians, which we heard read in our midst here today?

“May I never boast of anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything!” (Galatians 6:14-15).

What does it mean to boast in nothing except our Lord Jesus Christ? What does that mean for nationalism, for patriotic pride?

Let me briefly suggest that patriotism and pride in our human institutions are natural and normal. These are not to be rejected, because love of country is an important part of that love of neighbor which God longs to see within us. But this love for country must always be held in tension with our deeper identity as Christians, with our first love for our Lord.

When we finally go the way of all flesh and are joined with our ancestors, it will not matter then whether our nationality is American or French or Kenyan or Brazilian. Those labels belong only to this fleeting world; they represent temporary arrangements among human beings.

But this Church of Jesus Christ to which we belong, within which we worship and learn and grow, this is a distinctive community of human beings which outlasts any empire or confederation or nation.

When we here stand up and declare our faith in the words of the Nicene Creed, we are in fact declaring our truest and deepest allegiance. This never-failing Church of Christ has no flag toward which we face; instead we face the cross. And there it is that we turn when we pledge our allegiance, this Cross of our Lord, by which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world.

In our Gospel reading today, we are reminded of our mission as the Church: to go forth and cure the sick and bring the message of the kingdom of God to all people.

This kingdom includes people of every race, language, people and nation. It is God’s kingdom, and it is the only one which is worthy of our deepest loyalty.

So, go out and celebrate this Independence Day. Celebrate with pride in this wonderful nation. But remember to keep proper perspective. As you celebrate, remember your calling as a laborer in the kingdom of God, and “rejoice that your names are written in heaven” (Luke 10:20).

Let us pray (Collect for Independence Day from the Book of Common Prayer):

Lord God Almighty, in whose Name the founders of this country won liberty for themselves and for us, and lit the torch of freedom for nations then unborn: Grant that we and all the people of this land may have grace to maintain our liberties in righteousness and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Fruit of the Spirit

Sermon for Proper 8 C RCL 6/27/2010, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14; Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20; Galatians 5:1, 13-25; Luke 9:51-62

My friends: during the last few weeks, we have been reading through Saint Paul’s Letter to the Galatians in the Sunday lectionary. Next Sunday we will finish with this letter and move on to another. But I cannot leave it this morning without exploring in more detail with you the absolutely stunning pronouncements made by the apostle in this remarkable text.

This entire letter from Paul to the church in Galatia is a spirited and angry defense of his vision for an entirely different kind of religion, one which the world had never before seen. It is not that Paul’s Gospel is a competitive one. He does NOT argue how much better following Christ is than obeying the commands of other gods or the law of Moses. Rather, Paul contends that living in Christ is as vastly different from other ways of living as the sea is from land, as death is from life, as slavery is from freedom. There is no competition here in Paul’s vision, but rather there is an entirely new model for human life.

Law versus grace is how he words it, but be careful not to assume too quickly that you know what he means by these words. Both of those words here actually symbolize an attitude, an approach, a culture – if you will – which stand in sharp contrast with each other.

For Paul, the law stands not only for the Law of Moses but for all of the various human forms of religion that are restrictive and prescriptive. For Paul, these forms are in fact destructive to God’s will and intention for humanity.

I am certain that all of you have seen the damaging effects that religion can have upon people. Surely you’ve known someone who has been psychologically or emotionally damaged by the teachings and practices of certain law-based forms of religion.

Unfortunately, it’s all too common even in the church. This damage comes because here in church we are tapping into forces with enormous power: power in the spiritual world, and power within the human psyche. The religious impulse is so deeply embedded with human beings and it is so easily abused or misused. It is very common for me to speak with folks who have grown up under Roman Catholicism and who have felt crushed by it. They say things to me like, “You know, I don’t understand why I HAVE to confess my sins to some man.”

Then I have to apologize to them for the failures of the church over the years, and explain that these kinds of requirements are in fact contrary to the entire spirit of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. “For freedom Christ has set us free.” In Christ, we are free from these kind of requirements to offer sacrifice or to meet the divine demands. This kind of religion is what Paul denounces as the yoke of slavery. What Christ offers us is something entirely different.

In seeking to understand this matter, it is helpful to turn to the great Martin Luther. His commentary on the Letter to the Galatians remains a standard text in church libraries, even though it was written 500 years ago! As a monk and a priest and a professor of theology, Luther struggled for years as he tried to please God with fasting, confessions, and all kinds of penance. But the more he did, the more he felt that he was falling short, and the more he feared the wrath of God. Luther was slaving away under the law, the yoke of slavery, until finally, after much study of the New Testament, his eyes were opened. Listen to how he stated it: “…a totally other face of the entire Scripture showed itself to me.” An entirely new world of grace was opened to him by the Holy Spirit and he began to understand what it means to receive and to live by the Spirit.

Now we must be careful to understand that this freedom of grace in Christ is not the same thing as the radical individualism that has marked our American society since the days of the Colonies. But what then is it? How do we balance the freedom of will and choice that we have in Christ with the imperative to be the servant of others? As Paul says, through love we are to be slaves to one another.

Luther dealt with this question at length in his work titled, “The Freedom on the Christian.” His opening sentence of this work is a classic; it sets the paradox of the Christian life in perfect context. This is what Luther wrote:

“A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to no one. [AND] A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.”

Let me repeat that for you so that you can try to wrap your minds around it…It is a paradox, without question. Two opposites which exist together, side-by-side, neither one canceling the other. But, you see, it is BECAUSE we are finally free in the grace of God that we can choose to be a servant of others. We choose to follow Christ; we choose to live within the fellowship of the church; we choose to give ourselves away as the servants of others.

Luther expressed his understanding of this freedom when he said: “God has taken care of my salvation. I am therefore free to take care of my neighbor… [And] My neighbor is every person, especially those who need my help.”

What we have here in this Letter to the Galatians is really quite radical, and it remains difficult for us human beings to grasp it and to accept it. Do you see how drastic Paul is here with his insight? He is suggesting that the requirements of Judaism, which the Galatians seem to be embracing when Paul writes to them because of these rival Missionaries from Jerusalem, is the same kind of slavery as their pagan religious past, with its various required sacrifices and rituals. He is saying that pagan religion and orthodox Judaism both, in essence, represent the same attitude, the same approach, the same mindset toward life and toward God, and that both of these stand in stark contrast to the Gospel.

This is remarkable, coming from Paul, who was himself an orthodox Jew, a Pharisee, one who spent his entire life, before his conversion, seeking to live in faithful obedience to the law. But in Christ, all such striving ends and an entirely different kind of life, springing from a different source, begins and continues for ever.

This reading from Galatians ends with a famous passage about the fruit of the Spirit. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. There is no law against such things” (Galatians 5:22-23).

This passage is beautiful, and if you have not put it firmly in your memory, let me encourage you to do so. Memorize it; it will help you. But remember, please, that this is descriptive, not prescriptive. Like the Beatitudes, this passage describes the reality of your life in Christ; it does not provide a list of requirements that you must meet. Rather, it describes the natural outcome of a life led by the Spirit.

One way that this passage has helped me for years now is, in the mornings as I leave my home and go out into the world, as a reminder of who I am. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” As I recite the list, it reminds me that this describes accurately who I am because of the FACT that Christ lives in me. Use it to remind yourself of who you are because Christ lives in you. It makes no difference whether we FEEL like these things or not. We belong to Christ. The Spirit abides in us. We have only to embrace the reality of this new life and live into it, to make it real in our daily lives.

May the Holy Spirit continue to guide us as we live into the newness of this life of grace in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.