Like the Dew of Hermon

A Sermon for 9 Pentecost (RCL A) 8-14-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

 Texts:              Genesis 45:1-15; Psalm 133; Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32; Matthew 15:21-28

Themes:         The Gift and Challenge of Family
Title:               Like the Dew of Hermon                 

My brothers and sisters in Christ: think for a moment about your family of origin, the household in which you grew up. What was it like? Was it a peaceful place, or was it full of strife and conflict?

Our families can provide us with an incalculable reservoir of strength throughout our lives.

The Psalmist spoke the truth when he said: “How good and pleasant it is when brethren live together in unity!”

But what is also the truth, and that which the psalmist failed to add, is how rare and surprising it is when siblings live together in unity! 

If you are not familiar with the entire story of Joseph, I encourage you to sit down and read it sometime soon. It is a fantastic and a wonderful story, drawn across the second half of the book of Genesis, beginning in the 37^th Chapter.

If you gathered with your brothers and sisters last week for worship, then you will recall that fact that Joseph was sold into slavery by his flesh-and-blood brothers who hated him, barely escaping being murdered by them due to the prudence of the oldest son, Rueben.

Today we heard the story of their eventual reunion, after a long and bewildering and surprising journey. By the guidance of the hand of Providence, Joseph has become the right-hand man of the Pharaoh of Egypt. Joseph now is one of the most powerful human beings on earth, and his brothers have unknowingly come to him in order to buy food from the Pharaoh during a time of severe famine.

As they ask and plead for help, they do not realize that the man before them is Joseph. How could they? The very thought would have been ridiculous, and impossible for them to suggest.

Joseph, however, knows exactly who they are. With great determination, and what we call a great poker face, he hides his emotions throughout their request for help. His youngest full brother, Benjamin, is there, and Joseph is overwhelmed by the sight of him. He concocts a covert plan to keep Benjamin behind, but his brothers undermine this by a stirring request to protect their elderly father from further heartache, which would surely occur if he were to lose yet another son.

Finally, Joseph can control himself no longer, and here we are given the account of the revelation of his true identity to his long-estranged brothers.

It is surprising to find the great foundational stories of the Bible littered with tales of such dysfunctional family systems, even to the point of attempted fratricide by those very men who were to become the fathers and name-sakes of the 12 great tribes of Israel!

As we consider what the scriptures teach us, it is clear that God intends for our natural families to be life-giving sources of strength and identity and support as we navigate this life on the paths of truth and goodness.

In one sense, the entire salvation narrative of the Bible is structured around the idea of family and tribal identity. The 12 sons of Jacob give birth to the 12 twelve tribes of Israel, who are to function as large extended families. This tribal/family identity retains its power even for the apostle Paul, who identifies himself with some obvious pride as “an Israelite, a descendant of Abraham, a member of the tribe of Benjamin” (Romans 11:2), that younger brother whom Joseph loved so much. 

In Jesus Christ, we discover a way by which all people can enter into the family of Abraham and into the tribes of Israel through water and the Spirit, through faith and baptism into Christ.

The earliest Christian prayers that we have speak of Jesus as our elder brother and as the child of God who has redeemed all humanity.

Our very understanding of God as Trinity implies a type of family: three persons working and living together in complete harmony and unity.

Clearly, the concept of family is central to the Gospel and the entire plan of salvation.

But just as it is seen that families are intended to be communities of blessing and wisdom, so it is just as clearly seen in Scripture that these very same families are often likely to become sources of the deepest pain and anguish. 

Consider once again the torture that Joseph had to endure at the hands of his own flesh-and-blood brothers, or the betrayal and tension we saw earlier this summer between Jacob and his brother Esau.

I am certain that there are a number of you here this morning who have likewise experienced betrayal and deep pain from members of your own family.

Thankfully, I have not had to endure anything like that from my own kin, but the challenge and struggle of being a family is fresh on my mind, since we arrived back in New Jersey just last night from two weeks of family vacation time in New Hampshire and in Canada.  

First, there are all of the little things that are frustrating to deal with. One of our goals while in Ottawa, in Canada, was to bike on the vast network of beautiful bike trails all around the city there, following along the sides of the many rivers and canals. But then, our youngest daughter twisted her ankle, and one pedal on our oldest daughters bicycle fell off. So we had to change those plans.

Then of course, we have to deal with the incessant bickering and fighting, over everything from who sits in which seat, to who has done the most dishes and who gets to use which pillow when we’re camping, etc and etc.

Our son, Angus, suddenly loves to practice all of his wrestling holds on his sisters, who – of course – subsequently scream and cry for help. Our youngest daughter, Fiona, is still learning how to speak without use of her whiny voice, if you know what I mean. And when she is tired and does not get her way, she is quick to tell us just how much she hates us, even though she makes up for it later with a hug and a kiss and an apology.  

And just trying to keep all of these people fed is a real challenge when traveling on the road.

But, at the very same time that we have to deal with all of the head-aches and stresses of family life, I know that there is a deep connection that is being built which is good and holy and life-giving.

When I listen to today’s story from the Gospel of Matthew of our Lord’s interaction with the Syrophoenician woman, what I sense is the love and devotion of a mother who is determined to find healing for her troubled daughter.

She is not one to passively accept what life sends her way. She is a mother who will fight to ensure a good future for her child.

This is the fruit of love. This kind of assiduous devotion is a true reflection of the God who is Love, the God who will not sit passively back and allow humanity to drift off into a chaotic and ill and violent future, but who fights and intervenes to open a way into a good future for all those who will embrace it.

Through the Gospel, this path of life is creating a new family of God, a new community of blessing among those who are reconciled to God and to one another through Christ.

 Thanks be to God that all of our families, all of our households – no matter the size or the type, are invited to embrace this gift and to join in this family of God which is growing and expanding across the globe, made up of brothers and sisters living together in unity. Amen.  

You Hear the Sound of It

Sermon for Trinity Sunday (RCL - B)
Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Holy Spirit, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville

Texts: Isaiah 6:1-8; Psalm 29; Romans 8:12-17; John 3:1-17

Alone, in the dark of night, the teacher, well-trained, well-educated, a city-dweller walks out into the orchard, seeking the country prophet from the hills, the one who speaks with surprising authority, and who heals the sick.

Nicodemus seeks for Jesus and he hopes for answers. He leaves the Master more confused than before, but touched by a Presence unlike anything else he has ever known.

For days, for weeks, no – for his entire life, Nicodemus chews upon those words, trying to soak up from them every last bit of divine meaning. His understanding is slow to change, but his heart is changed more quickly, and Nicodemus becomes a disciple. One who loves this man from Nazareth and who seeks a better life through him.

What does it mean to be born from above? What does this look like?

Some of you may know the story of John Newton, the man who wrote the text of “Amazing Grace.” His life is a parable of what the Holy Spirit can do with a human life.

Newton was born in 1725 in London. John’s mother taught him to pray, but she died when he was 7, and his father drowned at sea when he was 17. His heart became hardened and he turned his back on God. Living as a sailor, he sought work with slave traders, trying to run as far away from England as possible and to smother his sorrows with alcohol. However, on one return trip to England, the ship was besieged by a fierce storm. John feared for his life and so he prayed to God for help. That was all the opening that the Holy Spirit needed, for John Newton’s heart was changed from that day onward. His life was set in a new direction, and he went on to become a faithful Anglican clergyman, a powerful preacher, and a leader in the movement to abolish slavery. “Amazing Grace” is one of hundreds of hymns that he wrote to be used at prayer meetings at his parish.

Literally for John Newton, the wind blew where it wills, and the Spirit of God came into his heart and he experienced eternal life.

We all know the caricature of the evangelical preachers who preach this text from the Gospel of John over and over again. “You must be born again!” There is deep truth here. There are many people that you know who need a new start, whose hearts are hardened by grief or hardship or anger. God wants to be in direct, personal relationship with each one of us. This is the truth. But unfortunately, if we stop here, we miss so much of the subtlety of this famous text.

Alone, in the dark of night, Nicodemus came to Jesus to speak with him. Jesus responds in the plural. “You all must be born from above.” Jesus moves the conversation away from the individual back to the community of the faithful, where God has always spoken.

What our Lords speaks of here is not so much the experience of the individual –though this is vital and crucial – but it is the transformation of the community.

Jesus teaches the teacher of Israel about a new birth. The language here is noticeably ambiguous. Perhaps it means being born again, or born anew, or born from above. But whatever the translation, the meaning is very clear: this is something different, different from what folks are used to.

To be baptized by water and the Spirit, to be brought into the living body of Christ – it means to have a direct experience of the grace and loving-kindness of God.

Kind of like the prophet Isaiah. Did you hear those words read for our First Lesson?
What do you think about Isaiah’s simple and yet awesome statement: “I saw the Lord”? I saw the Lord! This is an incredible account of a direct experience of the living God.

Many have seen in this vision of Isaiah an image of the entire Eucharist that is at the heart of our community in Christ. We gather with the heavenly host in praising the glory of God, the sacred Trinity. Here we find the inspiration for the Sanctus: that indispensable hymn sung in the Eucharistic prayer. “Holy, holy, holy.” Since the earliest days of the Church, the body of Christ has gathered together to worship and has sung this thrice-holy hymn, inspired by the vision of Isaiah.

Of course, we do not see God in the same way as Isaiah, but we have our own direct experience. We taste God in the bread and wine! Recognizing our unworthiness – “woe is me!”, we approach the altar. And what is it that is taken from the altar and which touches our mouths? It is not a live coal, but it is living bread. Living bread and flowing blood that are provided for the forgiveness of sins. And after this, we are sent out by the great God of life to be the Lord’s ambassadors. “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”

When we experience God, we are never allowed to keep this only to ourselves. For God so loved the world, and God is committed to bringing the healing work of the Gospel to all the nations through our words and actions.

Now, today is Trinity Sunday, the Church’s feast when we remember and celebrate the three Persons of the Trinity.
It has been a long-standing practice in the Anglican churches on Trinity Sunday to replace the Nicene Creed with the Athanasian Creed in the Liturgy. Now, I’ll bet that most of you are asking yourselves, “What in the world is the Athanasian Creed?” Did you know that it is printed right in the Prayer Book? The Creed of St. Athanasius is found on page 864. Let’s please turn to it for a moment. I would like to read the middle section only, the part that begins at the top of page 865.

“So the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Ghost is God.And yet they are not three Gods, but one God.So likewise the Father is Lord, the Son Lord, and the Holy Ghost Lord.And yet not three Lords, but one Lord.For like as we are compelled by the Christian verity to acknowledge ever y Person by Himself to be both God and Lord, so we are forbidden by the Catholic Religion, to say, there be three Gods,or three Lords.The Father is made of none, neither created, nor begotten.The Son is of the Father alone, not made, nor created, but begotten.The Holy Ghost is of the Father [and of the Son], neither made, nor created, nor begotten, but proceeding.So there is one Father, not three Fathers; one Son, not three Sons; one Holy Ghost, not three Holy Ghosts.And in this Trinity none is afore, or after other; none is greater, or less than another; but the whole three Persons are co-eternal together and co-equal.So that in all things, as is aforesaid, the Unity in Trinity and the Trinity in Unity is to be worshipped.He therefore that will be saved must thus think of the Trinity.”

This is the truth about God, and if we are to remain in the faith of the Church, we cannot stray from this truth. But remember that the wind blows where it chooses. John Newton was saved simply by calling out to God for help in the midst of a storm. There is no limit to the ways in which the Holy Spirit can work in our lives. And there is no limit to what Christ can do with a community of his faithful disciples, those who love Him and who are discovering a new kind of life through him. Thanks be to God that we have the grace of walking in this path together as the body of Christ. Amen.