The Laying on of Hands

A Sermon for 19 Pentecost (RCL A) 10-23-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

 
Texts:              Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6,13-17; Matthew 22:34-46
Themes:         Moses and Joshua, resurrection, Jesus and the Sadducees        
Title:               The Laying on of Hands       

“Joshua son of Nun was full of the spirit of wisdom, because Moses had laid his hands on him” (Deut. 34: 9).

My brothers and sisters: what does it mean that Moses laid his hands on Joshua?

Let us think together for a few moments about that ancient practice which we call “the laying on of hands.” 

This is one of the simplest and most universal of symbolic gestures. People in all cultures and in all eras of human history have used this gesture in a symbolic way. Throughout the Bible, the laying on of hands is used as a means of conveying grace and power and blessing. Once a leper knelt before our Lord Jesus asking for healing, and the Lord placed his hand upon his head and said, “Be clean!” (Mark 1:41). When the first seven deacons were elected to serve just after Pentecost, the apostles prayed and laid their hands on them (Acts 6:6). And in the Letter of James, we are taught that the leaders of the church ought to lay their hands on the sick, to anoint them with oil and to pray for their healing (James 5:14).

But why do we speak of laying hands on someone’s head?

We all know that there are certain parts of the human body which generally convey more spiritual energy than other parts. If I stare at Fred’s feet or Carl's shoes (nice shoes, by the way!), it is not quite the same as looking him squarely in the eye. There is far more energy exchanged in that way.

And if I reach out my hand to touch someone as a way of blessing them, there is energy and power given off in that gesture. We all know instinctively how this works. To withhold your touch from another person is to withhold your blessing. Just think of the refusal to shake someone’s hand. We all know what is intended, and what is felt, by that refusal.

There is a sense of sacredness and power in a person’s head and hands which we all feel.   

And what is more, our Lord Jesus Christ teaches us that matter is important, that our bodies are valuable, and that God works through created things.

This is what Christ teaches us. There are other teachers who can offer you a different vision of life, others who teach that it is only the soul that has value, that our salvation is found in our understanding of certain mental concepts and ideas, that earthly things have no significance.

But this is not the wisdom that we receive from Christ. We receive the grace and the forgiveness and the power of Christ through the things of this earth, and we pass them along in the same way.

The laying on of hands, and the more general practice of intentional healing touch, is a vital part of our Christian tradition, and we continue this ancient practice even in the church today.

The laying on of hands occurs when a person is confirmed in the community by the Bishop, and when one is ordained by the Bishop.

But it also takes place at many other times in the church as well. On Sunday mornings, when someone who is not baptized or when children who are not yet ready to receive the Sacrament come to the Altar rail, I lay my hand on the head of each one and give them a blessing.  

Also, some of you (may) have been present for the Ministration at the Time of Death, what the Roman tradition calls Extreme Unction or the Last Rites. At that critical moment, all of those gathered together anoint the dying person with oil and lay their hands on them and pray, in a symbolic gesture of love and compassion and healing and blessing.

This laying on of hands is one of the most primal and basic of symbolic human actions. There is enormous power in the human hand, and when you stretch out your hands in a conscious, intentional way, you have the ability to convey energy and power.

Now, I know without a doubt that what I am about to ask will be uncomfortable for some of you.

We are going to practice together this morning. One way that we think of the liturgy of the gathered faithful is as a kind of practice, a rehearsal of what we know to be true and real. We practice it together, we rehearse it again and again and again, because when we seek to love God and our neighbor out there in the world, it is easy for us to become distracted and confused and to lose sight of the truth as it is in Jesus.

And so we will practice here today. I am asking that each one of you lay your hands on the head of two people: the person on your right and on your left. It doesn’t matter if they are family or friends or complete strangers. They belong to Christ, and you belong to Christ! And so we’re all family in this place!

Lay your hands on each person’s head – one at a time – and give them your blessing. Do it with intention, deliberately, slowly, in an attitude of prayer. Your words can be quite simple – you know the general blessing formulas that we use. “The Lord bless you and keep you.” “May the blessing of God Almighty be with you now and always.” Feel free to tailor and shape these words – or your own words of blessing – as the Spirit leads you, and especially if you know the needs of the person whom you are blessing. 

Now, if this feels strange or uncomfortable for you, then this is even more reason for you to practice! For I am convinced that this simple blessing with the laying on of hands is a basic practice with which all Christian people need to be familiar.  Let’s practice it for a few minutes right now.

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“Joshua son of Nun was full of the spirit of wisdom, because Moses had laid his hands on him” (Deut. 34:9).  When we were baptized into Christ, we each received the gift of the Holy Spirit and were incorporated – in our bodies – into the mystical body of Christ. And that means that each one of us has the power of blessing in our hands, because our baptized bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit.

 Be bold to share that blessing, my friends. Be bold to lay your hands upon the heads of your children and bless them before a test or an interview or an important milestone in their lives. Have the courage to lay your hands upon the head of your spouse or of one of your parents when they are ill.

Whatever the relationship or the situation, do not be shy to share your blessing with those around you. It is right there in the power of your hands, in the depth of your love, and in the confidence of your faith. And the Spirit has given it to you to be shared!     

May it be so. Amen.

We Shall Be Distinct

A Sermon for 18 Pentecost (RCL A) 10-16-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Exodus 33:12-23; Psalm 99; Matthew 22:15-22
Themes:         the people of God, the glory and holiness of God, the impartiality of God
Title:               We Shall Be Distinct

My dear brothers and sisters, I have a question for us to consider together this morning:

What does it mean to be holy?

Holy and holiness are words which we use quite often here in the church, but they are not very popular in our culture today. That much is obvious, I am sure.

Not many among us would like to be described as holy by our friends or neighbors; more often than not, this word carries a heavy negative connotation.

But let me ask again: what exactly does it mean to be holy? It is not an easy word to define.

Perhaps it might be easier to define if we can explain the opposite of holy.

Is sinful the opposite of holy? This is most likely what you are accustomed to hearing: a holy God versus sinful humanity. Holy and pious actions as opposed to immoral and depraved ones.  

However, let me suggest to you that I believe the more correct opposite of holy is in fact the word ordinary. Ordinary, commonplace, quotidian.   

When Moses spoke with the LORD on Mount Sinai, he pleaded that God’s presence might stay with the Israelites: “If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here. For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people, unless you go with us? In this way, we shall be distinct, I and your people, from every people on the face of the earth” (Exodus 33:15-16).

Here we are given an excellent and clear description of what it means to be holy: to be distinct, to be different, to be separate. It is a comparison term; holy is always used to compare two things.

A holy God versus ordinary gods. The Holy Spirit versus commonplace spirits. Holy Scriptures versus regular scriptures. The holy church versus ordinary churches.  

The church is holy in the same way that the Rotary Club is not – no offense intended at all to any Rotarians out there!

God is holy in the same way that our politicians are not – that much is obvious to everyone, I am certain!

To be holy is to be different than the ordinary, separated and set apart for a special purpose.

And that is not always a comfortable thing for us to experience.

You have heard me speak about the neighbor on my block in Moorestown who hates me and my family. Everyone calls him Uncle David. And he is still this ongoing, inexplicable enigma to us – why he behaves toward us as he does. So one day recently, my wife Erin was walking by his house and David was on his front porch putting up Halloween decorations. While passing, Erin made a neighborly comment: “Oh David, I like your decorations.” You know, she was trying to be kind and neighborly.

No response at all from him, not even a glance in her direction! So, being the stubborn, hot-headed Irish girl that she is, she stops and asks him, “David, is there someone that I’ve done to offend you?”

(Well, that was the big mistake, if you ask me! I mean, do you really want to know what he is thinking? I’m not so sure.) But then David turns and says to her, “Your husband is rude (now I told you about the time when I ignored his dog whistle call to me, didn’t I? OK, well he said)…your husband is rude and your family is too flamboyant. I’m a quiet guy. You are too flamboyant and I don’t want anything to do with you.” And he turned away and that was that.

Now, I’ve been called a lot of things in my life. I object to being called rude, as I am the one shocked at how rude he is! And I do not consider myself to be rude in the least. But, flamboyant?! Wow, I actually think that is a compliment!

Of course, this caused Erin and me to have a long talk about standing out and being different in our neighborhood. What exactly do our neighbors think about us? Besides, Uncle David, who is just plain bizarre in my opinion, what do the others think? Do many of our neighbors think that we’re flamboyant? Does this have anything to do with our faith in Christ? Or is it just our family personality?

How do we stand out in our neighborhood? Or are we ordinary and indistinguishable from everyone else?

Ask yourself that question: does my life – does the lifestyle of my household – indicate in any way that I am – or that we are – followers of Jesus Christ?

There was a time in our nation, in our culture, when pursuing a faithful Christian life was normative and not any means at all of distinguishing oneself. But that has changed drastically, and particularly so for younger people.

Last week, I caught a few minutes of a conversation on the WHYY radio show “Fresh Air” between Terri Gross and Jeffrey Eugenides, an award-winning author of fiction. In this interview, Eugenides spoke of his own experience in college at Brown University and how he received the inspiration to leave college for a bit and to volunteer in Mother Theresa’s home for the dying in Calcutta, India.

This is what he said about the inspiration behind his decision:

EUGENIDES: “Well, I do remember thinking that the most radical thing I could do in my college among my friends was to become devout. You know, I mean, that was better than being a punk rocker and having a Mohawk, [it] was actually to say the Rosary in your room. So it had that appeal to me, as though I was really thinking independently and wasn't going along [with everyone else]. … I wanted to make a radical decision.”

Do you see? Being truly different and being radical today for young people has nothing to do with getting tattoos or lots of various piercings or strange hair colors. Everyone does that now, right?!

That’s nothing different; that’s simply following the crowd, being a sheep blindly following the flock.

But try to actually live your life as part of the covenant community, under the instruction and teaching of our Lord and Master, Jesus of Nazareth. Now that is radical, and that is different!

But we need to be careful. It has long been a temptation for the people of God to consider their peculiarity, their holiness as a measure of worth or value greater than other people. But it is not that.  

Even though their intentions were malicious, the Pharisees and the Herodians spoke words of deep truth when they addressed the Lord in our reading today:

“Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality.”

Jesus shows us the true nature of God, and in this Incarnate One we see that God loves all people, regardless of the particularities of their lives.

So how can it be that the covenant people of God are called and set apart to be distinct, peculiar, unique among all of the peoples of the earth, while at the same time we know that God regards no one with partiality but loves all people of the earth with equal compassion?

Here, my friends, we come upon one of the beautiful and paradoxical mysteries of our life in Christ.

We are indeed called to be different than others, to be set apart as God’s holy people. But the reason for this distinction, this separateness is that in this way we might serve as the channel through which God’s equal love for all humanity might become manifest!   

This is the sacred task that is set before us now in these days of challenge.

How do we stand out in our neighborhood? Or are we ordinary and indistinguishable from everyone else around us?

Does our lifestyle indicate that we are followers of Jesus Christ, part of God’s covenant community?

 And what is more, how do we ensure that this holiness never becomes a license for perceived privilege, but rather a continual call to serve those who are in fact outside of our community?

God has called us together to be in the world, but not of the world, and yet always for the world. 

May we be given the grace and the strength to live out this calling with courage and boldness. Amen.

The Defining Mark

A Sermon for the 17^th Sunday after the Pentecost (RCL A) 10-09-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Exodus 32:1-14; Psalm 106:1-6,19-23; Matthew 22:1-14

Title:               The Defining Mark               

Have any of you here ever heard people criticize churches or church-going folks as hypocrites?

If so, raise your hand. I certainly have. Many times.

In some ways, that old complaint is unfair, since all of us are only human afterall. And, more often than not, to be frank, a person makes that protest as a defensive gesture, as a way of protecting themselves from the hard task of reflecting upon, and taking stock of, their own life.

But in another sense, that criticism of churches as hypocrites is entirely fair and justified. 

The good news, however, is that in this regard, we are in good company!

Just look at our story today from the Exodus journey of the Israelites. Here they are, gathered at the foot of Mount Sinai. Moses had just communicated to them the 10 Commandments and the instructions for building the tabernacle, and all of the other instructions that would shape them to be the special covenant people of God.

And what do they do? They immediately go and defy the very first principles of this covenant with God by worshipping idols and setting up false gods in place of the LORD.

“They forgot God their Savior” (Psalm 106:21). But how could they forget so quickly?

The people there at Sinai were, like all of us far too often, hypocrites.

And, of course, all of these parables in Matthew that we have been reading through over the last few weeks – these very dark and violent and bloody parables – all of these reflect a sharp criticism of the people of God as failing to produce the fruits of the Kingdom, as ignoring God’s invitation to the true banquet in the kingdom of God, and instead as settling for lesser feasts, lesser banquets, lesser gods who cannot satisfy their needs.

In response to this rather pessimistic vision of God’s people as constantly failing to get the point throughout history, even down to our own present day, it seems right to ask the obvious question: how, then, can we recognize when God’s people get it right? What are the defining marks of the true people of God – of those who are not hypocrites, of those who get it, and who bear the fruits of the Kingdom? 

Of this we can be sure: the defining marks of those who love and follow the Lord their God in faithfulness are not anything that can be seen on the outside, but rather are the marks of love on the human heart which reveal themselves in our actions.

This past Monday, October 3, was the 5 year anniversary of the massacre at the West Nickel Mines School in Lancaster County, where a gunman (a non-Amish man) entered into an Amish school and opened fire on the schoolgirls, shooting 10 of them before taking his own life.

Some of you may have noticed the many articles which were written for last Sunday’s newspapers in recognition of this anniversary. It was a day of horror for that peaceful Amish community, and there still is no discernable cause for why Charles Roberts IV acted in this way.

But what is most remarkable of all is how the Amish families most directly impacted by this detestable action were quick to offer forgiveness to the murderer (to Charles Roberts) and to his family. Please understand: this forgiveness was instant and spontaneous. There was no meeting where everyone decided to practice forgiveness. It came forth as a natural fruit, a normal outgrowth of the culture of their community.

These Amish parents went straight to Roberts’ wife and children to offer their condolences. Besides his immediate family, all of the people at Roberts’ funeral were Amish. Simply because he was a human being loved by God who now was dead. Donations poured in to this Nickel Mines community from around the world, and the Amish took a large portion of these funds to create a school scholarship fund for Roberts’ children.

And so I ask again: what are the defining marks of a faithful Christian community? There are no outward signs or marks that we must wear in order to signify ourselves as members of the new covenant community.

In this regard, I disagree completely with the Amish, in their insistence upon clothing and tools and styles from the 18^th century Germany as the only means by which Christians might distinguish themselves from the world around them.

But where they are entirely correct is the importance of the goal: we ARE intended to be different, to be a distinct community in the world, shaped by our covenant relationship with God.

And the defining marks of this community are these: compassion and forgiveness.

There is a brief story from the time of St. Francis which highlights this defining characteristic of Christ-following people.

There was a young man who was deeply touched by the witness of Brother Simon, one of St. Francis’ early companions there in 13^th century Italy.

This young man heard about a certain criminal who was captured and condemned to lose both of his eyes as punishment for his crimes. So, this young man rushed to the town council and, moved with courage and compassion, he pleaded for mercy. With tears in his eyes, and with heart-felt prayers which were clearly sincere, the young man asked that HE be given the grace that one of his own eyes might be extracted so that the criminal should not be deprived of both of his eyes. In this way, each would lose only one eye, and both may still have the gift of sight. But the council was greatly moved by the young man’s fervor and generosity and compassion. And so they decided instead to grant the criminal a complete pardon and release.

Now, that is foolish jurisprudence and terrible governance by the town council. I’ll grant you that.

But the point here is the amazing compassion displayed by this young man walking in the shadow of St. Francis.

What do we see when we find someone who has been touched on a deep level by the amazing love which God has poured out upon us in Christ, by the forgiveness and mercy displayed on the cross?

What have people always seen in such people?

Compassion and mercy and forgiveness.

In our parable from Matthew, after all of the random replacement guests had been herded into the wedding hall, the king himself came to inspect those guests, and he found one who was not wearing the customary wedding robe.

What is the wedding robe which that unfortunate guest at the wedding banquet was lacking?

What is the new clothing required of the guests at the wedding banquet of the Lamb of God?

So spoke St. Augustine in his preaching on this parable: “This is the wedding garment: ‘The goal of this command is charity which comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.’ …The wedding garment is charity such as this: ‘Though I speak with the tongues of mortals and angels and have not charity, I have become like a sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal.’”

Many are invited to the banquet of God, many may even draw near to God through faith, but what is the defining mark by which we know those who have been touched and transformed by the grace of Christ?

Not clothing, not our words, not the images on our walls or the jewelry around our neck.

There is no external mark by which we can see this.

There is only a heart which is full of the love of God in Christ, a cup running over with compassion and forgiveness for others. There is only a life that has been transformed and is now continually given over to good works, out of gratitude and joy.

May we be counted among their number. Amen.

For My Sake

A Sermon for the 11^th Sunday after Pentecost (RCL A) 8-28-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Exodus 3:1-15; Psalm 105:1-6,23-26,45c; Matthew 16:21-28

Themes:         Moses and the burning bush, God’s deliverance, self-denial
Title:               For My Sake

My dear sisters and brothers in the Lord: What does it mean to set the mind on divine things rather than on human things?

It’s been rather difficult this past week to set the mind on anything but Hurricane Irene!

The way the news media played this thing up, you might think it was Armageddon and the end of the world!

But the Lord rebuked Peter for setting his mind on human things rather than on divine things, as we just heard, and that is a powerful message which all human beings need to ponder carefully. 

Once Peter made his great confession of faith in Jesus as the Messiah who has come to set the people free, he seemed overtaken by the sudden realization of the immense value of their leader.

And so Peter, quite naturally, wished to protect Jesus and to keep him from harm. This is what we do with all of the things that are valuable to us – we protect them and keep them from harm.

But Jesus responded with one of his “hard sayings”, as they are called. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Do you notice how Jesus begins this saying, what he identifies as the motivating factor for this path of self-denial?

“If any want to become my followers…”

There can never be any denial of the voluntary principle if we are to be a spiritually healthy community. Human beings have to choose. Our dignity demands that we make the choices that affect our lives and our futures.

Look at the example of Moses. Even in the midst of this amazing, life-changing encounter where God reveals God’s own name personality, the voluntary principle is respected. Moses has the right to argue over this task with the Lord. Moses even has the right to say no to this task, if he so wished. He could have said, “No thanks, I’ve got a good and stress-free life right now here in Midian and I think I’ll just keep it like that.” In a sense, God presents the sight of the burning bush in order to persuade Moses to agree to this task. When dealing with human beings, even God – our Creator – works by persuasion and not by compulsion. 

Consider the so-called “Mandatory Evacuations” that have been in place over the last few days along the east coast. They are called “mandatory” but I’ll bet that you’ve seen folks interviewed who have decided to stay put in some coastal town. Thankfully, it seems that our government authorities are not able to force people to live. And that is as it should be.

St. Clement of Alexandria is reputed to have written this axiom of deep truth: “Compulsion is repugnant to God.” It is repugnant to God and it is also repugnant to human beings!

We must be able to choose. We instinctively recoil against anyone who attempts to force us. The basic tool of those governments and groups who torture their prisoners is to take away their dignity, to take away their ability to choose, to control everything so that the prisoners feel that they no longer have any control themselves at all.

What God seeks is people who will serve and love God and the world simply because they choose to do so! I have heard a modern parable about Jesus and his disciples during their days together in Galilee. This is not in the Gospels, but I think that it does communicate truth to us.

Jesus and his disciples are together walking along the road one morning when Jesus turns and tells the disciples, “I would like you to carry a stone for me. Now, come and follow me.” Then he turned and began to walk on. Simon Peter, being a very simple and practical man, picked up a small stone in his hand and began to follow along. After all, the Lord said nothing about the size or mass of the stone to be carried.

Around mid-day, Jesus asked the disciples to stop and be seated. He gave thanks to Abba for all of the gifts of the day, and when he had finished, all of the stones being carried by the disciples had turned into bread. And so they ate lunch together. But Simon Peter’s lunch was over with just one mouthful!

Once they finished, Jesus stood up and once again said, “I would like you to carry a stone for me. Now, come and follow me.” And he turned and began to walk on. Peter said to himself, “OK, now I get it. This stone will be for supper!” So he found a small boulder and, though it was difficult, he brought it up onto his shoulder and began to walk on. And as he did, he thought to himself, “Man, I can’t wait for supper!”

But in just a few hours, the Lord stopped as they crossed a small stream and he asked his disciples to throw their stones into the stream. Then he turned and began to walk on.

But now the disciples were grumbling and confused, and Peter especially began to complain and grumble. And the Lord turned and said to him, “Peter, what is the matter? Have you forgotten? For whom were you carrying that stone?”

You see, Jesus had asked them to carry a stone for him! But quickly they began to think only in terms of what they themselves were going to get out of this labor, rather than offering their service simply because their beloved Teacher and Master had asked for it.

But that is not love, my friends. God cannot force it, but what God longs to find in us is the desire, the longing, simply to serve without any regard of what we might get out it.

As soon as begin to bargain, we know that we’ve lost sight of the path. As soon as we say, “Well, Lord, I’ve been a faithful church-goer all my life. Surely then I deserve some protection or special blessing…”

But as soon as we go down that path of trying to negotiate something special for ourselves, then we’ve lost sight of love and service.

For whom are we carrying our stones? For whom do we gather for worship? For whose sake do we serve in the church, or take care of our loved ones, or work so hard to put food on the table?

If all of this is not done for the sake of Jesus Christ alone, then we’ve missed the path to true joy and peace and life. “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

May we always be among those who are willing to serve simply because God asks us to do so, and without any desire or motivation to secure any benefit by so doing for ourselves. Amen.

Reflected in a Mirror

Sermon for Last Epiphany C RCL 2/14/2010, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-43
Themes: transfiguration, summit and valley, the veil of Moses
Purpose: to teach, to encourage
Title: Reflected in a Mirror

Today, my friends, on this last Sunday of the season of Epiphany, we celebrate Transfiguration Sunday. All of the readings today coalesce with laser-like focus around this one theme. Moses climbs Mount Sinai and encounters God directly. This experience causes his face to shine with such brilliance that the people of Israel cannot look at his face. A veil is required for him to wear before he can speak with the people.

In his Second Letter to the Corinthians, Paul interprets this veil of Moses in a negative way: not as a guard to protect the people, but rather as a barrier that prevents the people from seeing the glory of God.


















In the Gospel of Luke, we hear of this enigmatic episode when Jesus climbs up the mountain to pray. There he encounters the Father directly. Like Moses, this experience caused his face to shine with dazzling brilliance. And suddenly, without warning or explanation, Moses and Elijah join him there.

Why Moses and Elijah?

You may remember that Elijah also climbed Mt. Sinai, in imitation of Moses’ effort, in order to speak directly with the Lord (1 Kings 19). In his despair over the faithlessness of his people and the wickedness of their rulers, it seems that Elijah did not know what else to do or where else to go. In Elijah’s world, if one needs to hear directly from God, then one goes to Mt. Sinai. There God spoke to Elijah in a quiet voice, giving him a clear command to return to the people of Israel and to renew the covenant.

Let us think for a few minutes about the importance of the presence of Moses and Elijah on the mountain with the Lord. It’s quite shocking, really. It’s the most amazing aspect of this episode, in my opinion. There is no precedent for people in the Bible meeting with the dead saints of old to discuss current affairs. There is nothing that would prepare us as readers or as hearers of this story so that we can say, “Oh yes, of course. Moses and Elijah are there. That makes perfect sense!”

It doesn’t make any sense at all, honestly. But even though it’s surprising and unexpected, I think it tells us something important.

Paul wrote these words: “All of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18). And so I ask you this: who else functions as the mirrors reflecting the glory of God to the world except for the saints, those who with love and dedication and perseverance have purified their hearts?

Is it by accident that at the very moment when the true glory of the Lord Jesus is most clearly revealed on this earth that Moses and Elijah are there to share in, and to reflect, that glory?

One casualty of the modern scientific worldview which shapes the worldview around us is our ability to perceive and appreciate the presence of those who have gone before us.

Our brothers and sisters in the Greek and Eastern Orthodox traditions have been better able to maintain in their liturgies a deeper sense of this abiding presence of the saints. Whenever there is a lectionary reading attributed to one of the biblical saints, a prayer is typically added for the saints’ blessing. For example: “A reading from St. Paul’s 2nd Letter to the Corinthians: May his blessing be upon us.” Or, “A reading from the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel: May his blessing be upon us.”

It’s a small turn of phrase, but small additions such as these suggest that they grow out of a different perspective on our relationship with our ancestors in the faith. Why not, I wonder, ask for St. Paul’s blessing when we are called to read one of his writings?

“Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,” of which St. Paul is an important part, does it not make sense to refer to him as if he is truly alive today in the Lord, and not simply as a historical figure of the past?

Coming directly out of the great cloud of witnesses, Moses and Elijah met with Jesus upon the mountain. In no way do I suggest that we can expect to have that same level of interaction with the saints of old. Our Lord lived in unique intimacy with the Father. Our goal is to achieve that same kind of intimacy with God, but for all of us, that will always remain a goal in the distance.

But even if we are not yet ready to experience this depth of connection to the spiritual world, to the heavens, which surround us at all times, is it not right and good for us to at least act as if this is in fact the truth? To at least think about the saints and prophets of old as they truly are, as living members of the Church today?

The Church has always had this goal, but we swim upstream against culture and the numbing effects of time in attempting to maintain our consciousness. For instance, in all of the apostolic churches, the clergy serving at the altar wear this white robe which we call an alb, and over it we wear the colored cloak which we call a chasuble. Why do we wear such things?

Do you know that this alb is nothing different from the ordinary under-garments of those living in Roman times? I guess today it is equivalent to a pair of sweat-pants or jeans and a t-shirt. And do you know that this chasuble which I will put on after the Offertory is nothing else but a rain poncho that Roman citizens wore to protect themselves from the weather?

So why then did the Church have the clergy continue to wear these clothes, when they were nothing but ordinary, every-day clothing? It’s because the first martyrs of the Church stood before the rulers and authorities in these clothes and made their confession of faith in Jesus! It’s because the first martyrs of the Church died wearing ordinary clothing such as these. And we want to look like them. We want to dress like them. It’s because they are our honored ancestors in the faith, and when we think of what it means to be faithful and true and pure in heart, we want to look and act and think as they did.

When Jesus went up the mountain to pray, he took Peter and James and John, and he met Moses and Elijah there.

The great Jewish teacher of the 20th century, Abraham Joshua Heschel, had this to say about prayer in the Bible: “It is not safe to pray alone. Tradition insists that we pray with, and as a part of, the community” (Man’s Quest for God, p. 45).

Maybe our Teacher, our Guide, sets us an example here. That at this moment of prayer when he is most connected to the power and light and glory of the Father, he is surrounded by saints and apostles and prophets. He is not alone. And we are never alone. Never are we separated from them: from their prayers, from their presence, from their witness. The death of the body is not strong enough to break the bonds which God has created in the Church. Praise be to God that Moses and Elijah stood on the mountain in witness to this truth. Amen.