Showing posts with label St. Clement of Alexandria. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Clement of Alexandria. Show all posts

Saturday, August 27, 2011

For My Sake


A Sermon for the 11th 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.


Monday, October 11, 2010

The Life That Really is Life

A Sermon for Proper 21 C RCL 9/26/2010, offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15; Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16; 1 Timothy 6:6-19; Luke 16:19-31

During this season of Pentecost, as we move into the Autumn months, the lectionary bombards us with readings about money and wealth and giving. It certainly seems like a carefully planned conspiracy by church leaders to prep us all for the coming stewardship season, doesn’t it?. But we have talked about money and wealth quite a bit here recently, and today I think we are ready to pursue a different tact.

Of course, the truth of the matter is that Jesus is not, in fact, primarily speaking about money and wealth in this parable today. What he is speaking about is the quality of our character, our ability to see our neighbor in need, the state of our heart. The question at the heart of the matter is this: what is the goal of our relationship with God, our journey with God through this complicated and confusing life?

Last week, a stopped by a local coffee shop to grab a cup of coffee, sit for a few minutes and go through my e-mail. I was the only patron at the time, and so the woman working at the coffee shop felt comfortable to talk with me. Of course, I had my collar on, so she talked with me about her prayers. Her daughter stopped by quickly and talked with her mother. When she left, the mother explained to me that her daughter is studying hard to pass the state nursing test, to become a licensed and registered nurse. The daughter has failed it three times already. This is her fourth attempt at it. Therefore, the mother explained that all her family is right now praying the St. Joseph novena in order for her daughter to pass the state nursing test. She said, “You know, the prayer to St. Joseph for special causes that my daughter has is slightly different from mine. So I’m praying them both, because we really need her to pass this test!”

What’s wrong with this picture? I am not opposed to the idea of praying to the saints. There are many different ways to pray, and the Scriptures do encourage us to pray for one another within the body of Christ. Whether the members of the Body are dead or alive, that doesn’t make any real difference in this. We can all pray for one another.

But look at her situation more deeply. What is the purpose of prayer? Is it simply a way for us to get what we want? Some kind of divine lottery game? So that, if we pick just the right numbers, or in the case, say just the right prayer for just the right number of days, then we will be the fortunate one who wins the prize?

Is this what prayer is about? Is this how we view our relationship with God? Perhaps that example is a bit too obvious for you, so let’s try another. How is it that we view the sacraments of the church, the usual channels of grace that God has appointed for us?

Do you honestly think if you come to church regularly, receive communion often, given to and support the church, that in some way God is going to give you more goods things than those who never darken the doors of a church?

The answer is no, no, no. God causes the sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and gives rain to the righteous and to the unrighteous (Matthew 5:45).

What is the primary purpose of prayer but to place ourselves intentionally in the presence of God so that we can draw close to God? What is the purpose of attending church, of joining together in worship but to be in a place where God can touch us and change us? What is the purpose of receiving communion, of participating in the sacraments but to embrace the grace that is given so that we might become the bearers of God in this dark and confused world?

What is the purpose of praying a novena to St. Joseph except to draw near to St. Joseph and to learn from him how to live a life of faithfulness and strength, commitment and devotion? What is the goal of our relationship with God but to be united to God and to our neighbor in love?

There is an old story of a man, a spiritual seeker, who visited a Sufi community and was very impressed by what he saw. Here’s a little background to help you understand this. Within the Muslim world, miracles have never been an important part of their faith. Muhammad never performed any miracles. But, over the years, Sufi communities within Islam embraced a more mystical, spiritual path, and thus they have tended to seek after and accept the miraculous.

So this man came to the Master of the Sufi community, and he said this: “Master, I am very impressed by the spiritual depth of your community, and I would like to join you here. But first, I must ask this question: Do you believe that God performs miracles?”

An understandable question, coming from a Muslim seeker. The answer from the Sufi Master is superb, in spite of its old-fasioned language. He said: “Yes, of course. But some believe it is a miracle when God does the will of man. We believe it is a miracle when man does the will of God.”

We believe it is a miracle when men and women do the will of God!

When Jesus shares this parable of the rich man and Lazarus, in no way does he offer this as a way to curry God’s favor, so that if we act well then we can avoid the fate of this rich man. There is no special formula to win God’s blessing. The purpose of Jesus’ teaching is NOT to give us clues about how we can best manipulate God into giving us what we want.

Our task rather is to submit ourselves, with love and gratitude, to the purposes and dreams and visions of God, to learn the art of contentment. St. Clement of Alexandria explained the purposes of God in this way: “Providence is a disciplinary art.”

Providence, the working out of God’s plan in the actual realities of everyday life, is a disciplinary art. It is God’s way of shaping us, correcting us –so to speak, of guiding us toward a life of union with God, where we become one with God.

My friends, let us push forward to “take hold of the life that really is life” (1 Timothy 6:19), as the apostle states so well. That life that is deep within us far beyond the superficial things of this world. That life that is lived in conscious and intentional harmony with the will and purpose of God, whatever that might be. Amen.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Nothing Without Your Consent

Sermon for Proper 18 C RCL (9/5/2010), Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Jeremiah 18:1-11; Psalm 139:1-5, 13-17; Philemon 1-21; Luke 14:25-33


My sisters and brothers: we have the great privilege this morning of hearing and meditating upon this tiny little letter from Saints Paul and Timothy to Philemon and Apphia. Only 25 verses long, 335 Greek words in total, in most Bibles it occupies only a single page. And yet, what a page it is! How remarkable it is that we can find so many crucial insights into the practical meaning of the Gospel for our everyday lives here in this brief letter.

This is one of the undisputed letters by Paul. And the purpose of the letter is very clear and precise: Paul is asking Philemon to forgive his runaway slave named Onesimus and to free him. Of course the obvious question is: what is the slave’s offence? And why is Paul involved in this domestic dispute?

While we are not told exactly what happened, by inference we can piece together this backstory. As we see in the greeting, there was a church meeting in the home of Philemon and Apphia. It seems that Paul is likely to have founded this church and he may have been a frequent visitor to that congregation. Onesimus, who must have met and heard Paul in his preaching, ran away for reasons unknown, and eventually encountered Paul again in the city where Paul was being held as prisoner, most likely to be Rome. When they met and talked in the city, Onesimus professed his faith in Jesus Christ and became a regular helper for Paul. And as Paul mentored and discipled him, surely they discussed the reality that Onesimus would soon have to return to Philemon to make things right. Can you imagine the young man’s anxiety and trepidation at this prospect? But the apostle does not send him back defenseless. Rather, Onesimus returns home with this powerful and persuasive little letter in hand as his one hope to avert the severe punishment due a runaway slave under the law.

How does he do it? How does Paul approach this task of persuasion?

First of all, observe how he opens his appeal. This is the only place where Paul first identifies himself as a “prisoner of Christ Jesus”. What a small descriptive title, but what radical importance lies behind it! Do you see how the apostles were willing and able to take pride in their imprisonments and their suffering for the sake of the Gospel? Sure, Philemon is a man of wealth and influence, with a large home and slaves to manage it for him. But who is the one worthy of the most honor and respect among the believers? Not the man of wealth and privilege, but rather the poor prisoner who is willing to do what Christ spoke of in the Gospel: to “carry the cross” and follow him at all costs.

It may sound obvious to us who gather here regularly, but in fact it is a peculiar and remarkable aspect of the church that sets us apart from the world around us. You see, it is not normal, nor to be expected in any way, that we would celebrate those who are apparent failures as though they are true victors and heroes! God teaches us that it is not success that is worthy of our honor and respect, but rather commitment and devotion.

After his greetings, Paul launches directly into his appeal on behalf of Onesimus. To use a colloquial phrase, the first thing that Paul does is to “butter him up”. Just look at how generous he is with his praise of Philemon! “The hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, my brother” (Philemon 7b).

There is wisdom here. Have you not seen in your own experience how such giving of compliments and praise opens up a door so that a difficult request can be received more positively? My wife, Erin, always tells me that my life would be much better if I could just get into the habit of giving her at least two genuine compliments every day. “Is it that hard,” she asks, “to find two simple compliments for me?” Well… actually it is! Just because my brain doesn’t work that way. But I know for a fact that “it is meet and right so to do”. Genuine praise, recognition and compliments help to open doors to improve the quality of our relationships.

After the compliments, Paul moves right into the meat of the matter. But notice here, please, how the apostle makes his request. What we see highlighted here in this request is the voluntary principle which lies squarely at the heart of the teaching of Jesus.

As St. Clement of Alexandria stated so well, “Compulsion is repugnant to God.” Rather than compulsion of any sort, within the kingdom of God everything depends upon voluntary assent, even though God has the knowledge and power and ability to coerce certain actions from us. And even though St. Paul has the consensual authority of the church to demand certain actions (“to command you to do your duty”, as he puts it), yet he prefers to lay this aside in order to ask, to seek and to knock.

Out of deference to Christ, the apostle prefers to make a humble request on the basis of mutual love and concern, “in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced” (Philemon 14). Everything within the realm of the spirit relies upon this voluntary principle. We cannot over-emphasize this fact.

But, wait! There is still more in this little letter. Paul urges Philemon to “welcome him (Onesimus) as you would welcome me” (Philemon 17b). There is a deep message here.

In many places throughout the New Testament Epistles, we can find passages which speak of the proper behavior of Christians relative to their place in society: husbands and wives, parents and children, masters and slaves. But here in this letter, we are given a glimpse of something entirely different. Here we can see clearly that the apostle Paul was unwilling to simply validate the typical roles of Roman society as he found them.

As the slave master, Philemon had rights under Roman law over Onesimus, the runaway slave. However, under the law of Christ, within the realm of God, Onesimus is now a child of the apostle and so has become a beloved brother to Philemon in the Lord.

Here is the revolutionary message of the Gospel made real in practical life! These family relations in the church trump any of the expected roles of human-made society! Within the church, all are brothers and sisters, equal under the Gospel.

Without declaring it directly, the apostle in essence is saying, “Forget about slavery! Forget about who possesses what, who owns whom! Forget about your rights under the law or your petty grievances! Forget about all of that stuff that belongs to the old way of life, and begin to embrace this new way! Start to practice forgiveness, reconciliation, and true brotherhood and sisterhood in the kingdom of God!”

Without stating it directly, the apostle lays the groundwork right here for dismantling the entire institution of slavery. To do that work was not his calling. After all, historians estimate that nearly one-third of the entire population of the Roman Empire lived in some form of slavery. To tackle that social structure was not his task. But it was his task – and it is ours as well – to call people to a new kind of life in Jesus Christ, one where all known social boundaries are irrelevant.

It didn’t take the Church too long to figure this out. By the fourth century, the great St. John Chrysostom, then the Bishop of Constantinople, the second-highest ranking bishop at the time, could stand in his pulpit and preach these words: “Slavery is an abomination. It is quite wrong that one person should buy another, and that such a purchase has the protection of the law. A person does not even possess his own life; so how can he possess another person’s life?” (On Living Simply: The Golden Voice of John Chrysostom, p.26).

Of course, Chrysostom was sent into exile by the Emperor for his insolence. St. Paul was imprisoned and killed for his preaching. But the seeds were already sown, and by the grace of God we continue to harvest the fruit of their faithful labors.

Thanks be to God for the wisdom and remarkable vision of the apostle Paul, who can still teach us so much from a brief little letter written so long ago on behalf of a runaway slave named Onesimus. Amen.