Not Insects, but Buffalo! - Sermon for Feb. 19

A Sermon for the Last Sunday after the Epiphany (RCL B) 2-19-2012

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9

Themes:         transfiguration on the mountain, light shining in darkness, new vision
Title:               Not Insects, but Buffalo!

In the 1950’s, an African Pygmy named Kenge took his first trip out of the dense tropical rainforest that was his home. He was taken out onto the broad savannah plains of Tanzania. Far in the distance across the savannah was a herd of Cape buffalo. They appeared as small black specks against the bright sky. The pygmy man stared at the buffalo in the distance, then turned to the anthropologist accompanying him, and asked, “What kind of insects are those?”

When the anthropologist replied that those were not insects, but rather were buffalo, Kenge roared in laughter and told the anthropologist that he should not tell such stupid lies.

(Daniel Gilbert, Stumbling on Happiness, 2006.)

This western anthropologist was not stupid and he was not lying.

You see, before this moment, this pygmy man Kenge had spent his entire life on the floor of the thick rainforest, where he had never been able to see more than just a few feet in front of him, let alone all the way to the horizon.

His brain had never processed an image of something that was miles away, and so he had no way of perceiving the reality that something as large as a buffalo – an animal 10 feet long and averaging 1600 lbs of muscle - could appear so small due to the diminishing effect of distance.

My dear friends: you and I are African pygmies! No, no, not in the make-up of our bodies. But we are like the African pygmies at least when it comes to our spiritual vision!

But if it makes you feel any better, so were all of the apostles. So were Peter, James and John!  

Like those peasant fishermen, we live our entire lives within the thick jungle of experiences which constitute a normal human life. Dishes and bills and house repairs and dirty diapers and work and school and illnesses and sore feet and headaches.

Our brains have never processed an image of reality from God’s point of view. We don’t even know to see divine things. It’s like Peter up there on the mountain: “OK, Lord, I guess you and Moses and Elijah will need someplace to stay.” And what kind of insects are those?

Peter had no way to process what he was seeing. It was beyond anything that he had ever glimpsed.

This is why, I think, the Lord took his closest friends up on the mountain with him. Until this point, his time with them had been very, very busy. Sailing across the lake, catching fish, feeding thousands of people, being surrounded by huge crowds who all wanted something from Jesus.

It felt a lot like their ordinarily very busy lives. It was different, of course, living with the Messiah, but they were still walking with him through the thick rainforest jungle.

But here they are taken out onto the savannah for the first time in their lives.

Above and beyond and around the crowded busyness of their lives, there was a luminous divine reality that Peter and James and John had never yet glimpsed. They believed in the reality of God’s kingdom, but they had no way to imagine in their minds what the reality of God’s kingdom actually looked like. Until this trip up to the mountain top.

This Gospel reading appointed for today begins with a mistake.

For some reason, those who decide such matters chose to start with verse 2 and to leave out verse one, which is the actual opening of this scene. Verse one says this:

Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.”

And then the text goes on to say that six days after this announcement is when the Lord takes Peter and James and John up the mountain and allows them to see the hidden, powerful reality of the kingdom of God.

What they are allowed to see there upon the mountain is not some isolated, dramatic experience, but it is rather a vision of what the life of Jesus is truly like and of what their lives could be like when they are lived in connection with him.

All of this has to do with sanctifying our imagination. The gospel allows us to see a different future – one that is different from our current reality. When we can see this possibility, we have hope. But what is more astounding is the truth that this good future is already growing even now in our midst! 

Countless scientific studies have shown that we human beings are most likely to imagine the future based upon what we are experiencing in the present. Think about how people felt about real estate values back in 2006 and remember what advice you were hearing then from various financial advisors. Do you think they ever imagined such huge drops in home values in such a short time?

Now consider this: Alexander Graham Bell, the man who invented the first practical working telephone in 1876, once spoke these words to a reporter who was interviewing him: "It may sound cocky of me, Sir, but I foresee the day when there will be a telephone in every town in America!" Do you think he could have ever imagined a time when there was a phone on every person in America?

It is a fact that our imaginations most typically are entirely bound by our past memories and by our present experiences. But God desires us to see, and to imagine, much, much more.  

We’ve seen the limits of our ability to perceive what is beyond our normal experience. Now consider this example of a sanctified imagination.

There’s a story that was told by the southern slaves of former years. In this story, a young slave woman is standing in the hot field, working, harvesting the crop. The overseer is brutally whipping another slave nearby. Already in this woman’s short life, she has seen too much pain.

She breaks down right then. She drops down and cries out, “I can’t take it any more. I can’t take it any more. I wanna die!”

But old man nearby hears her cry out and calls to her and says, “Don’t die, baby. Don’t die. Get dressed up and come with me.”

“So I got dressed up,” she reported, “and I went with him. You shoulda seen me, dressed up in the finest dress! We walked together and we walked right over into hell, and right there I spit on the devil! And then we walked straight into heaven, right before the throne of God! Everyone was there and we was having a grand time, dancing and singing and laughing.”

“But then, all a’sudden, the whip hit my back – CRACK – and I looked up, and there was the master standing over me, ready to whip me some more.”

“But I laughed with secret laughter, because he had the whip, but I had all the advantage!”

 St. Paul wrote that “the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:4).

But I think that this blindness can afflict all of us, when we see things only as they appear to our eyes, and not with our faith-inspired imaginations.

Look at what we do today in the sacrament of baptism. You can look and see only a baby and some water and oil and a candle, and you can see a pleasant little opportunity for a family to get together and take some nice pictures and have a good memory (something to fill up pages in Luke’s baby book).

Or you can look with the eyes of faith and see something powerful and majestic and eternal – the light of the risen Lord touching the young soul of this baby boy. You can hear vows that are made before the very throne of God. And you can imagine all of the saints and the angels of God – all those beings of radiant goodness – rejoicing that the door of new and abundant life has been opened now for Luke.

What about in your life? Have you been able to glimpse the kingdom of God at work beyond and above and around all of the activities of your daily life? May it always be so that the eyes of your heart are able to see the light of the glory of God as it is revealed in the face of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Glossolalia - A Sermon for The Baptism of the Lord

A Sermon for the Baptism of the Lord (RCL B) 1-8-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Genesis 1:1-5; Psalm 29; Acts 19:1-7; Mark 1:4-11

Themes:         the gifts of the Spirit
Title:               Glossolalia

“When Paul had laid his hands on [the believers in Ephesus], the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied” (Acts 19:6).

And so today, my friends, we find ourselves in consideration of a subject matter with which we Episcopalians are not very familiar: the so-called charismatic gifts of the Holy Spirit.

These gifts include speaking in tongues and the gifts of prophecy, as well as healing (see 1 Corinthians 12). These gifts have always been present in the church since the Day of Pentecost, though their use has varied widely in different time periods by different Christian communities.   

The most unusual, distinctive and most controversial of these gifts is commonly known as speaking in tongues. On the special insert in your bulletin, you will see the proper name for this phenomenon as taken directly from the Greek of the New Testament: glossolalia.

So let me ask you now, and please answer honestly:

How many of you here have ever spoken in tongues?
How many of you have ever delivered a word of prophecy?

OK, be honest: How many of you were just looking around to see if anyone had raised their hand?

That’s understandable. Prophecy and speaking in tongues are not common in our parishes here, but – make no mistake about it – there are many Christians today who make use of these gifts and there are even Episcopal parishes in New Jersey where these spiritual gifts are evident.

In the beginning, before the varied heavenly bodies took their form and their various orbits were established, God spoke and said, “Let there be light.”

Now, be honest. Do you think God speaks English? Did God actually speak the word “light”?

If we stop to consider it, of course God did not speak as we think of speaking. The Creator has no mouth, no vocal cords, no lips or tongue with which to shape sounds and form intelligible words.

The Creator’s words are formless and yet they themselves shape all energy and matter.

How then does God speak? We can call this the language of the Spirit.

Many people consider speaking in tongues as learning the language of the Spirit, how the Holy Spirit speaks when interceding within us.

It may seem quite odd to you right now, but think for a moment of what it means to be filled with the Holy Spirit. The Spirit of God speaks every human language and even the language of God.

To lose ourselves in the Holy Spirit is like letting go and drifting in the current of a mighty river.

Caught in that flow, things can happen to us – and in us, and through us – that we cannot explain, because they are beyond what our minds can conceive.

These things happen today, my friends. The work of the Spirit has not changed. We live in the age of the Holy Spirit, these days after Pentecost when the Spirit is actively reaching out to all the world through the community of disciples.

These things are still happening today, even if we do not see them often in our lives.

Tony Campolo tells an amazing – and true! – story of prophecy in which he became unwittingly involved.

For many years, Dr. Campolo was a professor of sociology at Eastern College in St. David’s, just off of the Main Line. He is also a Baptist preacher. Dr. Campolo is retired now, but a few years back, he was asked to come and speak at a small Pentecostal college out in Pennsylvania. Before he was to begin, a number of the faculty gathered around Dr. Campolo to pray for him, to ask the Holy Spirit to fill him and guide him. These faculty laid their hands on Tony’s head as he knelt in the middle of their circle.

Well, these are Pentecostal people, and so they prayed long and passionately. Eventually, one of the men began to pray for a particular gentleman named Charlie Stoltzfus. And we praying and he said, “Lord! Don’t let that man leave his wife and three children! Send an angel to bring that man back to his family. Don’t let that family be destroyed! You know who I’m talking about, Lord…Charlie Stoltzfus. He lives down the road about a mile on the right-hand side in a silver house trailer!”

By this point, Tony was getting a bit annoyed. Hey…I thought you were supposed to be praying for me! he thought. And besides, why would you tell God where this Charlie guy lives? Do you think God is sitting there saying, ‘Now, give me that address again?’

Finally they finished, and Tony gave his talk to the students and then he got into his car and headed home. As he was going up the ramp onto the Pennsylvania turnpike, there was a young man hitchhiking. As a South Philly Italian and a Baptist preacher, Tony has always been a bit of a risk-taker, and he is prone to pick up hitchhikers.

So Dr. Campolo picked up this young man and they proceeded onto the PA turnpike. Tony introduced himself and asked, “And what is your name?” He said, “My name is Charlie Stolzfus.”

Tony was a bit stunned and was trying to remember what had been prayed and what he should do.

He didn’t say a word, but at the next exit, he changed directions and headed back from where they had just come. The guy said, “Hey mister! Where are you going?”

Tony said, “I’m going to take you home!”

“Why?”
“Because you just left your wife and three children, right?”

And he said, “Right, right!” And then he just leaned against the passenger door and stared at Dr. Campolo as if he was some kind of ghost. Tony drove back toward that college and stopped about a mile before the school in the driveway of a silver house trailer.

The young man looked in astonishment and asked, “How did you know where I live?”

“Because God told me! Now, I want you to go on inside because I want to talk to you and your wife!”

Charlie ran into the trailer and Tony followed him in a few minutes later. Tony met his wife, whose eyes were as wide as saucers, and he asked them to sit and he said, “Now, I need to talk with you two and I want you to listen.” Dr. Campolo told them the story of why he was there. He told them about our Lord Jesus, about God’s desire to change and transform our lives, and about the power of the Holy Spirit. Both of them made a decision to become Christians that night, and today Charlie Stoltzfus is still married and he serves as a Pentecostal minister somewhere in the South.

When our Lord was baptized, the Holy Spirit descended and rested upon him and the voice of God spoke. When you and I were baptized, we were sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.

Do you know what that means? There is a mystery to our lives which is beyond the scope of our logic, beyond the force of our rational minds. There is a power at work in the world and in our lives which cannot be explained away.

The Holy Spirit is alive and well today and continues to speak through the people of Christ today. Perhaps you will never practice glossolalia – speaking in tongues. Perhaps you will never utter a word of  prophecy. But who knows? Perhaps you will!

IF you will yield your life to an infusion of the Holy Spirit’s power within you.

After all, my friends, this is the question which matters the most of all:

Are you open to the power of the Holy Spirit working freely in your life?

Or, are you afraid of appearing strange or odd or different, afraid of losing control?

Don’t be afraid, my brothers and sisters. Open your heart. Allow the Holy Spirit to fill you and move through you with power. Why not?

Let’s ask for this power right now. Please bow your head and pray with me.

Come, Holy Spirit, Spirit of life, Spirit of power, Spirit of the living God. We praise you, we love you and we give you glory. Come and fill our hearts with your power until our cup is overflowing. Fill us and speak in us and through us, Lord, for we live to serve you alone. Thank you! Amen.

We Are All Students

A Sermon for the 20^th Sunday after Pentecost (RCL A) 10-30-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Joshua 3:7-17; Psalm 107:1-7,33-37; Matthew 23:1-12

Themes:         crossing the river, hypocrisy, the unity of the new community
Title:               We Are All Students

Billy Graham tells a story of a time early in his preaching career when he arrived in a small town where he was scheduled to lead a revival meeting as a guest preacher for the local Baptist church. Wanting to drop a letter in the mail, he asked a young boy for directions to the post office. After the boy had pointed him in the right direction, Dr. Graham thanked him and said, “If you’ll come to the Baptist church tonight, you can hear me give directions on how to get to heaven.”

That young boy replied very seriously and said, “I don’t think I’ll come for that. You don’t even know how to get to the post office!”

(From The World’s Greatest Collection of Church Jokes, Barbour Publishing, Inc., 2003)

It’s not always easy to be a leader among God’s people, to be someone who is called to lead the people on their journey into being the kind of community which God desires them to be.

Today, we heard the conclusion of the story of the creation of the nation of Israel, which we began just after the Feast of Trinity Sunday back in June. Abraham’s descendents had been enslaved in the land of Egypt. God brought them out of the land by the hand of Moses, and in the wilderness of Sinai God made a detailed and arrant covenant with them, also through the leadership of Moses.

The promise which the LORD originally made to Abraham many centuries earlier was that his descendents would come back to Canaan and possess the land as a strong and mighty nation.

And so here today, we read the conclusion of this long journey to finally enter into the land of Canaan as the people of the Covenant.

The crossing of the River Jordan by the people of Israel under the leadership of Joshua is the final ritual act that establishes the Israelites as the unique community of God’s faithful people in this land chosen and prepared for them by God, and in which God promises to dwell with them in a unique and distinct way.

This story purports to tell us of events from nearly three thousand years ago, but please remember - their story is also our story.

Have you ever wondered WHY it is that John the Baptist was baptizing in the River Jordan, and that our Lord Jesus Christ was himself baptized in the waters of the Jordan?

It is no accident. Baptism is itself the ritual act by which you and I take our place as members of this unique community, as participants among God’s faithful people.

In and through the waters of Baptism, we are able to cross through the River Jordan along with the Israelites, along with the Ark of the Covenant, and enter the promised land along with our ancestors in the faith, in order to live as God’s covenant people.

The unfortunate reality, however, is that, as the people of God, we often fall short of God’s intentions and hopes and dreams for us.  

Today in Matthew’s Gospel, we hear these harsh words from the mouth of Jesus against the scribes and the Pharisees. They paint a very negative caricature of the leadership of the Pharisees during an abundantly difficult period in the life of the Jewish people. The criticism leveled here is clear: “they do not practice what they teach.” But notice that the words spoken by Jesus are directed to his disciples and the crowds gathered around them. This is a teaching sermon, and Jesus is teaching them – and us! – about the quality of community that God has always intended for the covenant people.

We’ve seen this vision before. This egalitarian vision of Jesus is seen quite clearly throughout Matthew’s Gospel.

It is a vision of a community based upon equality, simplicity, humility, and compassion, where the leaders of the community are it’s servants.

This is the kind of covenant community which God originally intended when the people crossed the Jordan into the land of Canaan. And this is the kind of covenant community which God intends for us today.

There is no major surprise here. I believe that there is a deep hunger latent in all human beings for this kind of community which is envisioned by our Lord.

We can see this hunger in the Occupy Wall Street movement that has now spread around the world. Of course, the people in these random encampments have their own personal motivations and favorite causes which vary widely from person to person, and from place to place. But, at its core, and in its original impetus, we know there is the strong desire for humility, equality, and compassion to serve as the guiding values of our society, rather than greed, arrogance and selfishness.

It goes without saying that this is not the case, hence the reason that these protests continue!

Nor is this kind of widespread change in society likely to happen anytime soon.

You can label me a pessimist, but I prefer to think that I’m a realist.

I understand the reality of sin, the reality of self-interest among humankind. And I understand that it takes more than protesting to change the fundamental character of human beings.

It takes the power of a different vision for life, the wisdom of a Master Teacher, and the power of the Holy Spirit.

There is a story from the life of St. Francis which speaks powerfully to this alternative vision for human society. Once when St. Francis was very ill, Brother Leo – one of Francis’ early companions – was taking care of him. And one time, while in the room with Francis, Brother Leo entered into a time of deep prayer in which he had a vision of a large and fast-flowing river.

And as he was watching, Brother Leo saw several of St. Francis’ followers enter the river with heavy loads of their backs. But the powerful current of the river suddenly swept them away and they were lost. Some made it half-way across the river, some nearly all the way across. But – alas – all of these brothers finally fell and were horribly drowned because of the heavy burdens which they were carrying.

Then Brother Leo saw a new group of Franciscans come to cross the river without carrying any loads at all. And these brothers came and crossed over the other side without any difficulty.

After seeing this, Brother Leo awoke from his vision and he found Francis also awake and alert.

And St. Francis explained to Brother Leo the meaning of this vision in this way: “What you saw is true,” St. Francis said, “for the great river is this world.

The friars who were swallowed by the river are those who do not want to follow the teachings of the Gospel and do not keep voluntary poverty.

But those who went across without danger are the friars who, having the spirit of God, neither love nor desire nor possess any carnal or earthly thing in this world, but ‘having food and sufficient clothing’ they are ‘content’, following Christ naked on the cross. And joyfully and willingly they embrace, take up and carry every day the very light and sweet burden of His Cross and the yoke of His very holy obedience.

And consequently, they pass easily and without danger – indeed with joy – from this world to God, who is blessed for ever and ever” (The Little Flowers of Saint Francis, Image Books, 1958: P.124-125).

In the Lord’s sermon in Matthew’s Gospel, we hear these words: “You are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students.”

Indeed, we are all students, learning together at the feet of the Master how to live this life the way that God desires, for this – we are convinced – is the way of joy and peace and freedom. To embrace the Gospel, to follow Christ naked on the cross in this way, is to embrace simplicity, humility, equality, compassion as the key values of our common life.

We all know that the world needs to change, that human beings need to change, that our society needs leaders who will guide us in the ways of truth and goodness.

Thanks be to God that here in the Body of Christ we have a Teacher, an Instructor, who is shaping us to be God’s faithful people in this world.

Thanks be to God that we can follow Christ in his way of the cross which is none other than the way of life and peace. Amen.

The Cup of Salvation

A Sermon for Maundy Thursday (RCL A) 4-21-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:         Exodus 12:1-14; Psalm 116:1,10-17; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-17,31b-35

Themes:     the Passover lamb, the last supper, the washing of feet, servant leadership, love
Title:           The cup of salvation

My dear friends in the Lord: It is a joy and privilege to be here once again on this Maundy Thursday as we re-member together the last evening that our Lord Jesus spent with his friends, his students, his disciples as we know them, just before his passion was to begin.

In just a few days, on Sunday morning, we will celebrate the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ.

We still have a ways to go before we get to that time of celebration. But Sunday is coming, and when it comes, we will all celebrate and remember our baptism into the death and resurrection of Christ.

One of the promises of the baptismal covenant that we will make and re-make throughout the Great Fifty Days is this: “Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?” And we will all answer together: “I will, with God’s help.” Matthew will be making this promise for the first time on Sunday as part of the body of Christ.

With God’s help, we will seek after Christ and serve Christ in all persons. With God’s help, we will love our neighbors as ourselves. Why will we do this? Not because we earn anything by doing this. In fact, we may lose much by serving people in this way. Folks like Donald Trump (for instance!) only become that rich because they stomp on many people along the way. “It’s the way business works”, so they will say in order to justify their brutality and thievery.

No, to serve Christ in others in this way means that we may lose much, because we make the choice never to take advantage of others at any time for the sake of our own selfish gain.

So why do we promise to serve in this way? We could love much in the way of earthly treasures, and we also know that there is no brownie point system in the kingdom of God. You gain no special bonus points with God by loving others, or by serving on the Vestry or the altar guild, by helping and serving the poor.

So, why do it? Why bother with loving others, with serving others?

We do this only because of what Christ has already done for us. When we truly grasp the greatness of the grace and mercy of God poured out upon us through Christ, what else can we do but to show our gratitude in this way? We love because Christ first loved us.

What did the Gospel say? “Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”  

For we are what Christ has made us: a community, a fellowship, a nation of servants who act on the basis of love alone. On Sunday morning, at Church of the Ascension, after Matthew is baptized, we will welcome him into the body of Christ by saying:

“We receive you into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.”

Tonight, Matthew serves with me in the washing of feet in order to introduce him to this priesthood-life of servant leadership to which we have all been called.

For each and every one of us, our baptism is our ordination – our first and primary ordination into the royal priesthood of the body of Christ. Do you see our bulletin covers? On this cover and on all the bulletins that we use, it says on the front: “Ministers, All Baptized Members.” That is the truth. By our baptism, we are all ordained to be ministers of Christ. What we do and experience tonight is meant to be a call back to the servanthood basis of our ordination, our baptism into life in Christ.

 May God grant us all the grace to grow in our understanding of this life of service and love into which Christ has so graciously brought us. Amen.

God was with him

A sermon for 1 Epiphany A RCL (1-9-2011), offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Isaiah 42:1-9; Psalm 29; Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17

How do we change ourselves? How are we able to effectively change our lives and also to change our communities?

This is a big challenge, and it seems to be on many people’s minds at this time of the year. What about you? How many of you made New Year’s resolutions 9 days ago?

Go on – raise your hands. Good. Can you tell us what they were about? Not the specifics, just the topic. Like health, or money, or work, or family. Go on and call it out.

How effective do you think you might be? Do you know that only 12% of Americans are typically able to achieve their New Year’s resolutions? This means that 88% of us fail to accomplish our New Year’s goals! Accomplishing change in ourselves in not easy, and yet we all recognize the need to do it.

So how can we make this happen? Perhaps some of you remember the old story of the fat Irish priest who was visited by a poor distraught widow in need of guidance.

“I am in despair,” the woman said to her priest. “My son spends all our money on honey, which he eats straight from the pot. We are penniless. Please come and tell him to stop!”

You have to understand that this was before the days of sugar and chocolate. Honey in the jar then was like the best candy and sweets that we have today. Well, weeks passed and the priest did not come. The old widow thought that he must have forgotten her request. So she went to see him again. And as soon as she came into the room, she was amazed at the sight of him.

“You are so thin!” she exclaimed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, I have given up buying honey and eating it straight from the pot,” the priest replied. “Now that I know that I can stop, I will come and tell your son to stop as well!” (see Celtic Parables.)


Here is an old story which points to the importance of community and personal example in effecting change. Someone in his community needed this priest to change, and his example has benefit for others.

Ever since it first took place, people have wondered about why Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan. Even John was confused! After all, this was a baptism of repentance, which means the forsaking of sins and the commitment to change one’s life. But Jesus had no need of that. He had no sin. He did not need to change his life.

We will never know why for certain, but perhaps the Lord understood the power of his personal example and what this might mean for the rest of us who would come to follow in his footsteps. And perhaps it was this humility, this willingness to do whatever was necessary in order to accomplish the goal of God that elicited this voice of affirmation from the heavens: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

And so we today follow his example. We come to blessed waters to be baptized, to be anointed, to receive the Holy Spirit, to be named as a child of God.

Today, as we gather to baptize two beautiful young children, God speaks these words of grace and joy in our very midst: “This is my daughter, Olivia and Amelia, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

But it’s not quite the same for us as it was for Jesus. He did not need to change his life, but we do! Not the anything is wrong with Olivia and Amelia yet, but we all know it’s coming. And by the time they are forced to make difficult choices, and when on occasion they make the wrong choice, they too will understand about the challenges of this human life and the difficulty of changing ourselves.

After all, that is why we are here! Change is exactly what the church is all about. If you wish to change yourself, if you can see the potential for so much more within yourself and you long to see it come to fruition…if you wish to see this world change, if you can see the potential for so much good within our communities and are frustrated by the violence and needless suffering and heartache that so many experience…if you see and feel these things, then you are in the right place. Change is what this community gathered around Jesus, called the church, is all about.

Listen again to what Peter preached when he spoke to Cornelius and his household: “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power;… he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.”

Can you see here in these words the prescription for our malady as well as the description of our goal?

God anointed Jesus with the Holy Spirit and with power. We are given the same, and what is more – we are given a community of fellow pilgrims on a journey together to become more tomorrow than what we are today.

Spirit, power, community – these are fantastic tools that God gives to us. But to what end? To do what he did. To go about doing good, to bring healing to those who are oppressed by the forces of evil in this world.

That is what this baptism is all about: being brought into a living community where we are equipped with the tools and the energy and the motivation to change ourselves and to change the world, so that all together we might become what God intended for us.

Remember this, as we stand in just a few minutes to declare once more our trust in God, and to promise faithfully to walk in the path of Christ, to become agents of change along with him in his work of redeeming the world.

Amen.

Live for the Praise of His Glory

A Children's Sermon for All Saints’ Day 2010, offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Daniel 7:1-3,15-18; Psalm 149; Ephesians 1:11-23; Luke 6:20-31


To the children gathered together:
Let me ask you a question: what do you want to DO when you grow up?

OK, here’s a different question. Are you ready? Who do you want to BE when you grow up?

Do any of you want to be a saint when you grow up? No? I don’t blame you for that, but I do hope that you will change your mind.

Now I have still another question for you. Can you think of an important person? Who is it?

This past week, our nation held its annual Election Day. Did any of you hear about senators and representatives and governors who were elected to serve in government?

Do you think these are important people? Well, let me tell you a secret. Listen: the most famous President, the mightiest King and Emperor, the longest-serving Senator – none of these have any importance when compared to the smallest little saint in the kingdom of God!

This is the truth, and here is a true story. On Monday nights, I play basketball with a group of other adults in my town. We do there what a lot of you have probably done on the playground, at recess or after school. We pick 4 captains who then pick players for their team. We end up with 4 teams and we play on two courts.

But do you know what happens every Monday night when we pick teams? I’m the last one to be picked. The very last one! (That’s because I can’t shoot at all! I can run faster than nearly all of them, but I can’t shoot and they know that about me.)

I don’t mind. It’s very good to be humbled like that. God knows that I need it.

But for me, this is a parable for the saints of God. Out in the world, the saints are the ones who are always the last ones to be picked by others for their team. They don’t look like much on the outside. They are not the superstars, the celebrities, the famous ones, the mighty that people in the world follow and obsess over.

The saints are the hidden ones, the ones who never look for fame or recognition. The saints are not interested in power. They don’t want to be better or richer than others.

The saints are the ones who do what Jesus taught us. Did you hear today a bit of what he taught us? Did you hear any of the words of Jesus that I just read?

Love those who hate you and those who try to hurt you. Do good to them.
What did he say? If someone hits you, do not hit them back.
If someone takes your things, do not ask for them back again.
Do to other people the same as you want them to do to you.

Let me tell you a story about a true saint. We do not know his name. He lived a long time ago in the desert, in Egypt. He was what we call a monk, which means that he never married so that he could pray as much as he wanted. When this monk was an old man, a group of strong, young thieves came to his room and told him, “We have come to take away everything that is in your cell.” The old man replied, “My sons, take all that you want.” So they took everything that they could find and they left. But after they left, the old monk noticed a little bag in the corner behind a chair which the robbers didn’t see.

So do you know what he did? He took that little bag and ran after the thieves and told them, “My sons, stop! Take this! You forgot it in my room.” And then he went back to his empty room so that he could pray.

But the thieves were amazed. So do you know what they did? They were convicted in their heart! They brought all of the old man’s things back to him, and they knelt down before him and asked to be forgiven, because they said, “This one really is a man of God!” And they were right! He is one of the countless number of saints who we celebrate today. (The Wisdom of the Desert, P.59).

Now let me ask you: who, in this story, was actually stronger, more courageous, braver? The robbers or the old man?

That's right. The old man! It is easy, isn't it, to grab and rob and steal. It is much harder to give away your belongings. You have to be brave and strong to do that.
When you grow up, you will do lots of different things in your work, in your lives. And as you do these things, you can BE a saint of God. You can be one who does what Jesus teaches us, who loves everyone, no matter what. I hope and pray that God will give you that desire.

Please close your eyes and let us pray:

Dear God, please help us to listen to Jesus and to do what he teaches us. Thank you for all of your saints who also teach us how to live a good life, how to be strong and brave and courageous. Help us to be like them, to love everyone in the power of your Holy Spirit. Amen.

FOR THE BAPTISM
Let me say a few words also in consideration of the baptism which brings many of you here today. Sean and Laura: do you realize what you are doing? It is a dangerous thing that you are doing today! It’s not safe to entrust your newborn child to the care of this Jesus, this revolutionary Messiah who will lead Tyler down a path of humility and self-sacrificial love. It costs us a lot to love our enemies and never to retaliate, never to get revenge. It costs a lot to give and not to grab.

To be baptized into the body of Christ is to be brought into a family full of people from all over the world, from every language and color and class, who are all a little bit crazy because we are learning from this Jesus how to live a life very different from the world around us. We don’t usually do a good job of this, but we are learning, and we are growing in grace and wisdom.

In just a few minutes, you parents and godparents will stand here and will promise to be part of this revolutionary, learning, serving, worshiping community, and to do everything in your power to guide Tyler into this way of life. It’s a little dangerous, but it’s a good thing that you do today. Because this way of life is the path to a life of joy and peace beyond anything else that this world can offer. And that is why we are here. Amen.

Each by Name: Good shepherd Sunday

Sermon for 4 Pascha C RCL 4/25/2010, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

What is the power of a person’s name? Today is what we call Good Shepherd Sunday, and on this day we remember and celebrate the reality that our Risen Lord Jesus Christ is in fact the Good Shepherd who calls us each by name.

The promise of the Lord is clear and direct: “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life and they will never perish” (John 10:26).

Today, we bring another child into the flock of the Lord. Today, Evangeline Franecki begins her journey into eternal life under the watchful care of Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd.

Today, as the One present here in this assembly, the Lord calls her by her true name, as a beloved child of God.

In the Biblical worldview, there is tremendous power in a person’s name. The ancient Hebrews refused to speak the name of God that was revealed to Moses, using pseudonyms instead out of regard for the sacred power of that name. Remember also how God changed the name of Abram to Abraham as a mark of his covenant with the Lord. Remember how Jesus changed the name of Simon to Peter, the name of Levi to Matthew, the name of Saul to Paul. Do you remember how, just a few weeks back on Resurrection Sunday, when Mary came to the empty tomb in grief, she was not able to recognize Jesus as alive and risen until her called her by name?

In our first reading today, the scripture is clear in displaying how Peter called Tabitha by name when he healed her and brought her back to life. And when we hold all of this together as a general theme, there can be no mistake that we are meant to understand how the name of a person holds power and meaning.

Since the earliest decades in the Church, there has been the tradition of taking the name of a Saint at the time of baptism. As far as we can tell, this practice began with a prince named Fulvian in the first century.

According to tradition, it was a princely ruler in Ethiopia, named Fulvian, who killed the apostle Matthew. Later, Fulvian repented of this evil deed and he asked to be baptized. And just before Fulvian was baptized by the bishop, a voice from the heavens called out, “Do not call him Fulvian, but call him Matthew.” Call him Matthew, in remembrance of that holy man for whose death the prince was responsible. From that day forward, he was to bear the name of this apostle as a continual reminder that now he shares the same grace, the same baptism, the same Lord, the same family as that holy apostle.

This tradition has fallen out of use somewhat in recent times, but it is a good reminder of the power and meaning that lies behind our names.

The Good Shepherd is the one who calls us each by name. One of the distinctive elements of our catholic tradition is that the general focus of the liturgy is never upon the individual, but rather upon the entire people of God.

Some of you have grown up in Methodist churches, or have spent time in Baptist congregations or in other Protestant churches. If so, I am sure you have noticed that the hymns we sing are typically different than theirs. Not all of them, of course, but a majority are different. Do you know why? Most popular Protestant hymns are all in the first person singular. “And he walks with me, and he talks with me.” Or, “O, how I love Jesus, because He first loved me.” Remember: I spent a few years as a Baptist, so I know these hymns! But the hymns that are most appropriate when we gather for the Eucharist are collective ones. We worship, we sing. The Lord redeems us.

Another distinctive element of our catholic tradition is how, when we do use the name of an individual, then we only use their Christian name, the name given at baptism. Because in this house, at this table, this is the only name that matters. Family names mean nothing within the body of Christ. They signify only our particular family tribe or national identity. But in the Church, we come together as one new flock united under the one Good Shepherd who calls us each by the name that he knows.

Now, we’ve talked about the name by which the Lord calls each one of us, but what about this title by which we call Christ on this Sunday: the title of the Good Shepherd.

What does it mean for us to call him our Good Shepherd? You know the primary inspiration in that most famous of Psalms: The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.

But what does it mean for us to call him Good? Is this the same as nice, or polite, or friendly? Like when we say, “Oh, he’s a good boy.” Or, “Now, you be good!” What exactly does the Church mean when we call him the Good Shepherd?

In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the second (but most famous) book of the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, there is a classic scene in which the 4 children learn about Aslan for the first time. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver are explaining to them all about the evil witch and about Aslan, when the children suddenly realize that Aslan is not a man at all, but rather a lion! “Is he safe?” Susan asks Mr. Beaver. “Safe?” replies Mr. Beaver. “Who said anything about Aslan being safe! ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you!” And later on Mr. Beaver says, “He’s wild, you know. Not like a tame lion.”

Aslan, of course, is meant as an icon of Jesus, the Messiah, the true Shepherd who lays down his own life to protect his beloved flock, to redeem his fractured creation.

And so, of course, Mr. Beaver is right on target. This Shepherd of ours is good, but he isn’t safe. There’s nothing tame about this Shepherd. In fact, he’s a bit wild! A bit reckless, a bit unpredictable. Do you remember the parable about the lost sheep? When the Shepherd decides to leave the 99 sheep in the field and to go after the one sheep that became lost.

You know, that’s not a very smart plan! That is definitely not the way they are taught at the shepherd’s training school! If one gets lost, you have to cut your loses, and guard even more carefully the remaining flock. But you don’t ever leave them alone out in the wilderness, and go chasing after the one who wandered off!

No, this Shepherd is not really safe, but he’s good. He’s the king, I tell you!

More than anything else, my sisters and brothers, I hope and pray that you will understand this simple truth: the Good Shepherd continues to search for you, to look for you, to long for you. It’s this compelling desire of God, this passionate love of God, which causes this Shepherd to be reckless in pursuing us.

And he continues to pursue us even when we are in his flock! Can you believe it? I know that I struggle to understand it, but I know in my heart that it’s true: God cannot get enough of us! Always, Christ wants to be with us more!

He knows our name. He calls out to us. Listen for his voice, my friends, and follow where he leads. You will never find a better option. For this Good Shepherd gives us life which is real, and deep and unending. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Peter Felt Hurt

Sermon for 3 Pascha C RCL 4/18/2010, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Acts 9:1-20; Psalm 30; Revelation 5:11-14; John 21:1-19

My dear friends in Christ: each one of us is here today for a reason. God is working out a purpose in our lives that is not typically easy to see and identify.

As members of the body of Christ, each one of us is on a journey of growth and progression, moving step by step into greater glory, into closer union with God, into deeper holiness of life. Through the sacrament of baptism, Mia Rose Smith begins that journey today with intention and purpose. Unfortunately, most people in the world around us undertake this journey of life by accident. They do not have a goal for their life; they do not have a path to walk along. If they learn something or grow as a person along the way, then more often than not it is not by intention, but simply by accident.

However, those of us who are baptized into the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus are walking this path of life with clarity of purpose. The life of a Christian here on earth is a process of struggle and growth, of challenge and learning and expansion.

Our life is rarely easy, but of course God never intended it to be easy! God has called us to life so that we might push and learn and struggle and grow, and so might become more than we ever could be if left to our own devices.

Today in our lessons, we see both Peter and Saul (soon to be re-named as Paul) challenged directly by Jesus so that they might grow and develop, and become more than they were before.

When the disciples had eaten breakfast with the Lord on the shore of the sea, Jesus challenged Peter’s love and devotion by testing him, in order to see if he was ready to serve as a leader in the church.

And so “Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

Peter felt hurt.
The first parish where I served while ordained to the sacred order of the priesthood was St. George’s in Fredericksburg, Virginia. This is a grand, old colonial parish in a vibrant small city. I was blessed to have a wise mentor there in the rector who had served there for 30 years. When I came, I told him that I wanted to learn, that I was aware that I needed to grow and to be taught, that he could tell me anything, and that it would not help me at all if he coddled me or sheltered me in any way. And so, after a few months, Father Charles shared with me some of the feedback concerning me that he had received from the parish. He reported that parishioners think that I cannot sing very well at all, and the Altar Guild is offended by my body odor. To sum it up, the report was that I can’t sing and that I stink. Other than that, everyone loved me!

And right there, at that moment, God presented me with a choice: do I cower backwards with a bruised ego, sheltering my pride, allowing a root of bitterness to spring up in my heart? OR do I push forward with courage, to seek after truth alone, and embrace this as an opportunity for growth?

The Holy Spirit showed me that there was truth in these things. I had never before then had much training in music, and I had never claimed to have a good voice. Also, I have never been one who is bothered by body odor. It’s only natural after all. It’s what happens when your body is moving and active and alive, and that’s a good thing. (Besides, I attributed this problem primarily to the stifling heat and humidity of tidewater Virginia!). And so, after this meeting, I asked the music director of the parish to help me with private voice lessons. And of course I increased my deodorant usage! But most importantly of all, I refused to allow any anger or resentment to fester in me. God had used these people to give me a gift – a means to grow and develop and to improve – and for that opportunity I remain thankful.

I have said this before here in this pulpit: I am convinced that one of God’s goals for your life, for my life, (for the life of Mia Rose), is that we all grow and develop into people who are completely and utterly un-offendable.

Because if I know who I am, then I can recognize the truth about myself in whatever anyone else might say to me or about me. And if what they say is clearly false, then I can recognize that they misunderstand, or that they are afraid, or for some unknown reason, they feel the need to protect themselves. But never in any way can the words of another person pose a threat to who you are, if you know the truth about yourself.

You see: to be a Christian means that we are ruthlessly committed to the truth, whatever that might be. We are fearless in pursuing truth, because we are acutely aware of how easy it is for human beings like us to deceive ourselves.

What matters is truth, and nothing else can claim our attention.

If it is true that Jesus of Nazareth was actually – historically – put to death and raised again to life, and if he then empowered those who love and trust him to become the church that we see spread across the globe today, and if he then lives today among his people who trust in him and follow him; if all of this is true, then this is of infinitely more importance than anything else about which we human beings could think or speak. Think about it: who has ever heard of someone dying, being dead for days, and then coming back to life and being fully alive again?

But, on the other hand, if this story be false, if delusional disciples made it up to sooth their troubled minds once they say him put to death, if this resurrection story is false, then this is the greatest hoax ever played on humanity.

But what is not at all possible is for this story, this message, this baptism which we share – for all of this to be just a little bit important, or a nice tradition, or a harmless social activity.

What we are doing here together is of the utmost importance. We are receiving strength to live this challenging life, and to see in it God’s plan and purpose for us. We are learning from the Master how to live a full and complete human life. And by God’s grace, we are growing day-by-day, week-by-week as people who love Jesus more and who share his love with others.
Amen.

Not Without Honor

Sermon for Proper 9 B (RCL), Offered by Nathan Ferrell at Holy Spirit, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville
Texts: 2 Sam 5:1-5,9-10; Psalm 48; 2 Cor 12:2-10; Mark 6:1-13

There’s been a lot of talk recently about the state of health care in our nation. I like to listen to talk radio and news radio as I drive around, and there have been a number of different proposals offered to address the twin problems of the rising cost of health care and the rising number of those who are un-insured.

If you stop and think about how we use our health-care, how we tend to use medicine, you will quickly see that there is most typically a disconnect between how we handle the symptoms and the cause of disease.

If you go to the doctor because you have some pain which is affecting the quality of your life, will you be content if the doctor discerns the root cause, fixes the underlying problem, but yet your symptoms – your pain – remains?

We Americans consume vast amounts of pharmaceuticals, far more, I believe, per capita than any other nation. Of course, we are not taking these pills to fix our root problems. We take them to tame whatever symptoms we have so that we can get back to work, back to our busy lives.

When our Lord returned to his hometown of Nazareth, the people liked to hear him teach, to see him heal a few sick people, but they were not about to allow this home-grown prophet to change them. They would not accept a call to repentance from this man. They could tolerate Jesus as long as he stayed on the surface-level, but when he probed deeper, they resisted.

St. John Chrysostom, the great preacher of the 4th century, and one of the greatest preachers who ever lived, understood the basic stumbling block over which we human beings always seem to stumble: our distaste for dealing with the root causes of problems. Listen to these striking words from one of his sermons:

“The truth is, a person goes to the doctor for relief of the symptoms of
disease, not disease itself. The doctor, on the other hand, knows that the
symptoms cannot be relieved unless their cause is overcome. Similarly, when we
declare ourselves to be disciples of Christ, we claim that we want him to cure
our spiritual and moral disease. Yet in truth, we want him to relieve the
symptoms, such as misery, discontent, despair, and so on. Jesus, by contrast,
knows that he cannot relieve these symptoms unless he overcomes their deep,
inner cause. And this is where the problems arise. While we would like to be rid
of the symptoms, we stubbornly resist the efforts of Jesus to penetrate our
souls. We do not want our deep-set feelings and attitudes to be changed. But
only when we truly open our souls to the transforming grace of God will the
symptoms of spiritual disease begin to disappear” (On Living Simply: The Golden Voice of John Chrysostom, p. 75).

Today we have the joy and privilege of welcoming Kimberly Louise Baker into the family of God. Today, Kimberly takes her place within the body of Christ. Today (through baptism) she is grafted onto the root, the vine which is Jesus Christ.

The Church has always viewed baptism as addressing the root cause of the human dilemma. At our core, our quandary is the fact that we have separated ourselves from our Creator through willful disobedience, through selfishness, through sin. Baptism is the means of applying the fix. Baptism is provided as a means of re-creating a new humanity, a new human body, connected to our head, Jesus the Messiah.

Unfortunately, after baptism, our sin continues as we learn to grow into our inheritance, as we take on the full measure of our new life in Christ. But the root cause of our distress is relieved, because our life now grows and is built up on a different foundation. And that foundation is solid rock. That foundation for the life of the baptized people of God is Jesus, the powerful Master, the wise Teacher. As long as we continue to truly open our souls to his grace, as St. John Chrysostom preached, then his healing touch will continue to work in our lives and we will experience more and more abundant life in his love.

Now, there are many areas of life where we can see this classic human struggle between addressing root causes of problems or dealing only with surface-level symptoms. Yesterday was Independence Day, and I think it is clear to say that the founders of our nation sought to create a new community, an ideal experiment, a new possibility where the root causes of basic societal ills might be addressed. The means of addressing these root causes was through the right of self-determination, the ability and the right of free peoples to make decisions for their own lives.

We all know the words they left us. They changed the course of human history. They cannot be mistaken for a superficial treatment of a passing situation. They cut to the core of humanity, going to the root of what it means to live together as human beings.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

It is an unfortunate truth that this experiment is under constant threat from those who gain power and who seek to use that power, not for the benefit of the nation, but for their own personal benefit. Yesterday I read a disturbing article about federal employees using our tax dollars to pay for such things as laser eye surgery, first-class trips to Hawaii, tickets to concerts, dinners at Gentlemen’s Clubs. Problems such as this need to be addressed, but they are only symptoms of what is wrong in human society. For the cure, we must be willing to go deeper, to have the courage to cut to the root of our dilemma.

The Founding Fathers of our nation found the courage to do just this, to go beyond mere circumstances, and to envision a bold new reality in these American states.

May God grant us the grace as a nation to continue to push deeper, to not settle for an easy fix to our problems, but to stay firmly on the path of freedom and responsibility.

May God grant us grace as the baptized people of Jesus Christ to be bold and brave in opening our souls to the great Physician, so that he may apply his healing power to those things deep within us which we would rather keep hidden.

And may God grant grace to Kimberly Louise Baker, and to all those being baptized around the world this day, to learn to live as a disciple of the Master, to sit at his feet, to learn from him how to live this human life, free and joyful and fruitful. Amen.

Divine Things

A Sermon offered for the 2nd Sunday of Lent 2009

There’s an old story about a man who was a spiritual seeker. He visited many great teachers and spiritual communities looking for a way to connect with God. He visited a great Sufi master who lived in Persia hundreds of years ago, and after a few more visits in the Sufi community, he was greatly impressed with the sincerity of their life and he wished to join them. But he had one question to ask first. He said, “Before I join your community, I need to know: does your God perform miracles?”

The Sufi master reflected for a moment and then said, “Yes, God does perform miracles. But some think it is a miracle when God does the will of man. We think it is a miracle when man does the will of God.”

I know from personal experience how difficult it is to see life from any other perspective except for my own. We all do tend to be quite self-centered, which is to be expected to some extent. However, when it extends to our relationship with God, that is a major problem. It is al too easy for us to think of God as the solution to our problems, the one who can fix our dilemmas. I hope that the story of Anna and Theodore in our Lenten study book is reminding all of us again that our relationship with God is really all about God! We are on a journey of theosis: allowing Christ to live in us, joining our life in the life of God.

One encouraging fact is that we all need this kind of reminder, and even the apostles lost sight on occasion of the reality right before them. “For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” So our Lord rebuked Peter.
Here in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus begins to prepare his friends for his impending death. This, of course, is not at all what they had in mind. They wanted to follow a winner, be part of a victorious movement that would restore the honor and dignity of their people.

Death at the hands of the chief priests in Jerusalem did not seem to fit this plan. O, he spoke also of rising again in three days, but of course they had no idea what this meant. But this death was no tragic ending to his life. In fact, it was the master stroke, the coup d’état that changed the entire landscape of life on this earth. Our Lord chose the cross of his own free will. He chose to do the will of his Father.

Here we are given the contrast in perfect clarity: Peter, focused upon human things, things of this world, hoping that God will fulfill the long-suffering dreams of his people; and our Lord, focused upon God’s will, freely choosing to lay down his life to fulfill his Father’s dream for the world.

It is a miracle when we do the will of God. The Holy Spirit changed Peter, of course, and he and countless others over the years have in fact done the will of God and have left us a legacy unlike anything else on earth. Sadly, Frederica Matthewes-Green is right about the spiritual amnesia which afflicts most of us western Christians. And it is indeed an affliction, a malady of the soul. We forget who we really are. When I went to college, I became a Baptist through the influence of a pastor there who became a great friend and mentor to me. His church sent me off to the Baptist seminary in Richmond, Virginia, which was a wonderful learning community. But I could not remain a Baptist for this primary reason: they suffer from appalling amnesia. For most Baptist churches, there was John the Baptist and the Apostles, and then came along Billy Graham! With nothing noteworthy in between! How sad! This is an extreme case, of course, but it highlights what is common to most of our churches in this part of the world. We have forgotten who we really are and instead we chase new trends and fads and fashions.

When we get down to it, our faith starts with Abraham, one who walked before God with trust and confidence. Do any of you know that funny old camp song about the descendents of Abraham?

Father Abraham had many sons (children).
Many sons (children) had Father Abraham.
I am one of them, and so are you.
So let’s just praise the Lord!

Perhaps many of us will think of this old-fashioned summer camp song when we hear these lessons about the promise made to Abraham in his old age: “you shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations.” The amazing truth is that today we are members of the great progeny of Abraham. Through the waters of baptism, God has adopted us into the covenant as children of Abraham. And this amazing family of God stretches thousands of years from Abraham through the time of the apostles into the age of the Church, and it includes countless thousands who have denied themselves in order to do the will of God.

For us, our journey into life in Christ, our path of theosis, begins with a simple act of free will. God has made a choice to bring us into the family of Abraham, the family of the Church. The introduction to the liturgy of Holy Baptism in The Prayer Book states this fact with outstanding clarity: “Holy Baptism is full initiation by water and the Holy Spirit into Christ’s Body the Church. The bond which God establishes in Baptism is indissoluble” (The Book of Common Prayer, 1979, p.298). This staggering truth itself is enough to cause us to fall face down in awe and worship before One who chooses to invest so heavily in us.

Of course, God is the same God who made the original choice thousands of years ago to enter into covenant with this wandering Aramean. Abraham could have refused this gracious offer. But Abraham consented to this covenant offer, and for good reason! It would be hard to walk away from such an opportunity. But this covenant also demanded daily choices from Abraham. “Walk before me, and be blameless.” These kinds of right came to Abraham with great responsibility. It is no different with us.

In our life here on earth, we can never separate our faith from our actions, for how we see the world around us has a direct effect upon how we act. Abraham’s trust in God allowed him to act in faithfulness, to walk before God and to be blameless.

It is the same with us, particularly during this our Lenten journey. Our actions and our beliefs are closely intertwined. It may be that, the next time we stand in church to confess the Nicene Creed, we need to seriously ask ourselves the question: do I honestly believe this? Or perhaps our sense of faith is strong, and the problem is that our actions are incongruous with our faith. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves: why do I act the way I do? If I honestly trust in the living God who “calls into existence the things that do not exist”, why then do I fret with worry and anxiety? If I believe that God has chosen me and will never leave me nor forsake me, why then am I jealous at the success of another?

Whatever the “one thing” is that we lack, we can be sure of “the unchangeable truth of [God’s] Word, Jesus Christ”, as our Collect for today describes. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever. In Christ, our covenant responsibility before God is accompanied by an even greater promise than that received by Abraham: the promise of the Holy Spirit! Thanks be to God that with our responsibility to walk in holiness comes a never-ending supply of divine grace to transform our lives.

So let us not grow weak in faith when we consider our own frailty and our difficulty in our process of theosis, of living in union with God. During this Lenten season, we must confess our failings, for this covenant relationship with the living God requires complete honesty and transparency. But with the eyes of faith, we know that the transforming grace of the Holy Spirit is ready to fill us, if we choose to walk this path of transformation.

God has made a choice, one which is unchangeable. For that we give thanks. Today, and everyday, it is our turn to choose to do the will of God. Amen.