Sermons and Reflections from 2006
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Father Douglas: R.DouglasAnAdventFable.WMA December 17, 2006 |
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Rev. Emerson: AngelaFirstSundayofAdvent.WMA December 3, 2006 |
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Father Smith: ChristtheKingSeeitintheeyes.WMA November 26, 2006 |
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Father Douglas: FrDouglasNov12.wma November 12, 2006 |
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Father Smith: FrSmithAllSaints.wma November 5, 2006 |
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Rev. Emerson: God_Sees_the_Heart.WMA |
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Father Douglas: Sept_11_Reflection.WMA |
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Father Smith: The_Real_Deal.WMA |
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Father Smith: Sermon: They Didn't Understand About the Loaves! July 30, 2006 |
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Little Actions with Great Results |
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The Da
Vinci Code: great fiction! Trinity Sunday and time to address The
Da Vinci Code blockbuster book and now movie. It’s author Dan Brown versus St.
Athanasius, the great defender of the Doctrine of the Trinity. If
you think Dan Brown’s book is full of intrigue, the life of St.
Athanasius was much fuller. There were so many plots to get rid
of him, but he escaped and despite continuing opposition, never stopped
teaching that Jesus Christ is God and that this core teaching is
founded in the Bible, and is the vital essence of Christian
faith. But in The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown claims the
Emperor Constantine, who converted to Christianity in 313 AD, invented
the divinity of Jesus and used his power at the Council of Nicea in 325
AD to force this declaration of Jesus’ divinity to pass by a "close
vote." Brown doesn’t admit that the belief that Jesus was God was
around from the time of the Apostles (i.e. John’s Gospel has Jesus
refer to himself as "I Am" several times, the name God gave to Moses in
Exodus- "Tell them I Am who I Am"). And the "close" vote
was 316 to 2! And Brown doesn’t mention that the Imperial Court
continued the fiercest opposition to the divinity of Christ of all,
causing St. Athanasius to burn himself out defending the faith and
often fearing for his life! |
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Life in the Spirit When we were baptized we were given the Holy Spirit to help us become disciples -- ready to give our lives for Jesus. But as we grow up our lives get busy and more complicated, its easy for the Holy Spirit to be pushed out and forced to live below the surface of our minds and hearts. We struggle along, going through the motions of religion, without realizing the benefits of our Baptism. Let me tell you a story, a very simple, but true story about a man called Yates, but who could be you and me - and this congregation we call St. Michael’s - or any of a thousand and one other congregations, a thousand and one other persons. The man’s name was Yates. He lived during the depression and owned a sheep ranch in Texas. He didn’t have enough money to continue paying on his mortgage - in fact he was forced like many others to live on government subsidies. Each day as he tended his sheep he worried about how he was going to pay his bills. Sometime later a seismographic crew arrived on his land and said that there might be oil on his land. The test drill proved it. At 1115 feet a huge oil reserve was struck - subsequent wells revealed even more oil than the first well revealed. Mr Yates owned it all. He had the oil and mineral rights. He had been living on relief - yet he was a millionaire. Think of it - he owned all that oil with its tremendous potential, yet for many years he did not realize it. How often are we like Mr. Yate's? Considering ourselves poor and helpless all the while unaware of the extraordinary power that we have available to us - which, like I said, is lying just below the surface in our minds and our hearts. So it happens sometimes we’re living on top of a precious asset but we don’t know what we’re missing, what to do with it, or how to make it a part of our lives. It’s possible to strike it rich and still have to deal with the same old you. A real evolutionary step can only be made if mentalities and attitudes change; real progress can only be made if outlooks and judgments change. That is what happened at the moment that the Spirit of God descended, at that moment all the disciples of Jesus became not only capable of speaking all kinds of languages, but were willing to use those languages to engage people they never would have thought of addressing before. It happened when they went from believing in forgiveness to showing forgiveness, It happened when they went from believing that God would protect them to actually venturing forth from the upper room into the danger filled streets of Jerusalem. It came when they went from thinking about what Jesus had said, to proclaiming what he said - in word - and in deed, and reaching out to heal, to serve - and to love - all those around them. There is a mysterious moment in our all of lives - a moment when belief comes alive - a moment when our thinking about the promises that God has made becomes in us a transforming faith - a moment when ideas and concepts suddenly move our minds and our hearts, and begin to move our feet and our hands, our mouths and our lips in a new and a life giving way. That moment is the baptism of the Holy Spirit and our lives are never the same again. Maybe you’ve had that moment and want to live it again. Maybe you’ve never had such a moment, but you would like to experience it. The key is in asking and acting. Respond to the actual graces of taking time for prayer and worship. Even if its for a short time each day and Mass on Sundays-- say yes, to prayer and worship. Say yes to the service of others. The Holy Spirit likes to flow as it accomplishes its work. Let peace and forgiveness flow through you -- so many are in some kind of spiritual or emotional bind-- unbind as many as you can. In doing this you will find yourself set free! This make real the fifth promise of the Baptismal Covenant: respecting the dignity of every human being. Somehow people who want to be followers of Christ think this doesn’t apply to every single person, there are so many we don’t like, or don’t like us, but it does apply to everyone. Let’s ask this morning. Let’s let the Holy Spirit rise above the surface of our lives and change things. Let’s be a Church on the move as it was from the beginning. Out of our Upper Rooms and into the streets, for people. The Spirit isn’t given to us for us to have a wonderful, personal "spirituality" or as an elite group practicing a religion close to our political opinions, be they left, right, or center. The Holy Spirit is given to make us Church, a people called to transform the world. The Spirit doesn’t guarantee that we’ll always get it right, always making wise and good decisions, but it does guarantee that we will never be orphans. The Holy Spirit does guarantee that the Church’s mission will go on and on until Kingdom come. The Holy Spirit points us to Jesus and brings us to the Father. The Holy Spirit moves in the water, in bread, in wine, and oil, and in our prayers alone or together. The Holy Spirit pushes us beyond ourselves, our normal ways of thinking and acting and gives us hope in difficult times and circumstances. We need the Holy Spirit. Ask for the Holy Spirit every five minutes, live confidently, don’t be afraid. Peace be with you. "Come Holy Spirit." And watch out-- your prayer will be answered! Amen!
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Outsiders Are In Before coming to St. Michaels, when our
kids were smaller, Kathleen and I had a sailboat. We would
trailer it to the Northwest and put it in the water at Bellingham, near
Kathleen’s folk place, and sail the San Juan Islands. Small
sailboats don’t go very fast so you have to make use of the tides and
currents to get anywhere. You’d set out with the current arrows
pointing in one direction, but if you didn’t make it all the way to
your destination often you would find yourself in a place where another
tidal current met the one you were using and for a time the tiller
would not be of much use and the boat seemed out of control though
still perfectly afloat. The first or second time through one of
these you’re kind of nervous, but in the long run you become a better
sailor and learn how to use all the currents to get where you need to
go. Perhaps the Eunuch had unrolled the
scroll to where we now read chapter 56 in Isaiah where it states:
"Let no foreigner who has attached himself to Yahweh say, 'Yahweh will
surely exclude me from his people.' Let no eunuch say, 'And I, I am a
dried up tree.' For Yahweh says this, 'To the eunuchs who observe my
sabbaths, and resolve to do what pleases me and cling to my covenant, I
will give, in my house and within my walls, a monument and a name
better than sons and daughters. I will give them an everlasting name
that can never be cut off." Nice little slice with the knife
there at the end of the verse, and no where near the genitals, but
right across a lot of fundamentalist thought these days. The
Ethiopian Eunuch traditionally has been considered the father of the
great Coptic catholic church of North Africa!
God sees things much differently than we do. When Philip saw the Eunuch he doesn’t naturally go over to this outsider. The Spirit had to urge Philip, push, coerce, and move Philip to go where he does not naturally want to go, and to be with someone he had been taught to avoid at all costs. The Spirit is pushing us through a renewal of our understanding of Baptism that many the world considers outsiders are our brothers and sisters in Christ and invited to complete Jesus’ work in the world. Not just some, not many, not a lot, but all. Everyone and everything waits to see what we will do, being not at all interested in what we have to say or what we believe, but what we will allow the Spirit to move us to do, here and now. |
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What’s next after Baptism? Two weeks ago, at the Great Vigil we had the joy of bringing two adult men into the Church through Baptism. Since the beginning of Advent when they became Catechumens we prayed for them each Sunday that they would open their hearts to God’s word and the Holy Spirit. In praying for them we tried to open our hearts to the grace of our Baptism. What’s next for Charles and Tim and
all of us after Easter? After Baptism and the Renewal of
Baptismal promises we enter the time of "Mystagogy" or the study of the
mysteries of our Christian faith. Sunday by Sunday we are
introduced to a Mystery. For example, last Sunday was the Mystery
of the Resurrection itself in the account of Our Lord’s appearance to
Thomas. We reflected in the sermon last week how, overcoming our
doubts like Thomas, the Risen Lord is present to us in everyday life
and everything we do by faith and not by sight. "Blessed are they
who have not seen but have believed."
This Sunday’s Mystery again inserts
the Resurrection in the most common activity of our lives:
eating. When the Lord appears to the disciples, who aren’t sure
if Jesus is real or a ghost, he asks them: Have you anything here
to eat? Have you ever heard this question before? Perhaps
hundreds or thousands of times! I believe that the loving
familiarity of Jesus words to his friends in that question is the same
loving familiarity he wants to have with us. This is a mystery
that many never will grasp, but is unveiled to us who
believe.
< Jesus liked food and he realized it
was of number one importance in life. If we don’t eat or drink we
die. So many of Jesus’ miracles were around food and wine.
In today’s Gospel the disciples have a little broiled fish on
hand. When this story was passed down to Greek converts-- that
Jesus ate a piece of fish with his disciples after his Resurrection,
they had real joy that their Greek word for fish-- ICHTHUS formed an
acronym: each letter standing for a different word of the great
Truth: Jesus Christ Son of God Savior-- ICHTHUS.
So this Sundays Mystagogia is about
eating. The Mystery is about becoming what we eat. There
was a 19th Century German Philosopher by the name of Andreas Feurbach
who is famous for a very earthy teaching that we human beings are
simply the product of what we have eaten. The key phrase in
German that encapsulates his teaching is "Man ist was er isst."
Man is what he eats. Feurbach, an avowed atheist, would turn over
in his grave to see how Christian theologians have used his teaching to
open up the Mystery of the Holy Eucharist in such a beautiful
way: As we ingest the Body and Blood of Christ at the Eucharist
we are sent out into the world as the Body of Christ.
This happens just like the Risen
Lord Jesus in a physical sense and a spiritual sense. After the
Resurrection Our Lord body still had some physicality but it was also a
spiritual body. When we receive Holy Communion our bodies receive
some physical nourishment and we are spiritually identified with what
we have received. Our identity, the generation we belong to, and
the special celebrations we take part in are all shaped by food.
We like to identify with foods that point to our ethnic or national
origins: Tacos, Lasagna, Sushi, Hamburgers and Hot Dogs,
Pierogies, etc. Coca Cola has long been identified with the over
50 crowd and the Pepsi Generation is always under 30. At weddings
there’s always champagne and cake, on Thanksgiving we have Turkey, on
the 4th of July its Hot Dogs, and there are eggs all over the
place at Easter.
We as Christians have our food that
nourishes our lives and provides wonderful, mysterious identification
with the Risen Lord: the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation.
St. Augustine in the 4th Century
told those who had been baptized and the others who had renewed their
baptismal promises: "You are the Body of Christ. In you and
through you the work of the Incarnation must go forward. You are
to be taken. You are to be blessed, broken, and distributed, that
you may be the means of grace and the vehicles of eternal love."
I love these teachings from the
early church because they are so pure, powerful, and true. So
this is the sacramental, resurrection Mystery this Sunday. I’ll
leave you with three things you can do to grow in Resurrection life
through the Sacraments: First, ask for the grace to recognize the
Risen Christ with you in your everyday life; Second, develop a habit of
spending a short period of time each day prayerfully meditating on
scripture or a story from the Gospels you can remember; Third, whatever
happens in your day especially the bad stuff, call on the Good Shepherd
to lead you out of the valley of death into the new life of
Resurrection.
May the God of hope fill us with
all joy and peace in believing through the power of the Holy
Spirit. Amen!
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need Easter this year? Sermon for the Second Sunday of Easter St. Michael’s, April 23rd, 2006 By Father John R. Smith I really needed Easter this year. More than ever I needed to experience the resurrection of Jesus-- the Risen Christ present and with us in everything going on around us and in the concentric circles reaching out to all corners of this beautiful, but very troubled world. It seems to me that there are two ways in which to look at the human history. One way is to focus on the wars and violence, the squalor, the pain and death. From this perspective, the Easter story looks like a fairy-tale all in the name of God. It gives us some solace for a while, but any relief goes away with the next news report or sadness that touches our life. But there is another way to look at the world. If I take Easter as the starting point, the one huge, incontrovertible fact about how God treats those God loves, then human history becomes the contradiction and Easter a preview of ultimate reality. The theologian Philip Yancey writes: I believe in the Resurrection primarily because I have gotten to know God. I know that God is love, and I also know that we human beings want to keep alive those who we love. I do not let my friends die; they live on in my memory and my heart long after I have stopped seeing them. For whatever reason--again, I imagine, human freedom lies at the core--God allows a planet where a man in the prime of life dies scuba diving and a woman is killed in a fiery crash on the way to a mission conference. But I believe that God is not satisfied with such a blighted planet. If I did not believe this, I would not believe in a loving God. Divine love will find a way to overcome. "Death, be not proud," wrote John Donne: God will not let death win. Right when things were the toughest, when the disciples felt most afraid, guilty, and abandoned (and they had abandoned him), Jesus shows up. Most of us, having been betrayed in far less, would say "Forget them." And when he comes through those shut doors where they were hiding out he doesn’t say: "Where were you when I needed you the most? What kind of disciples are you anyway? I can’t tell you how disappointed I am. I really thought you loved and cared for me. What a joke that was. When it came down to the wire, the only thing you were interested in is saving your own skins." Not a bit of that soap opera stuff. Instead, Jesus conveys on his frail followers his greatest gift of Shalom: reconciliation and the peace which passes understanding. Jesus doesn’t curse them, but blesses them. He forgives, accepts, and heals. Did the disciples deserve this second chance? Of course not. But God’s victory over death and God’s love for the world are not predicated on human righteousness, but on God’s Agape: limitless, sacrificial love. In the light and warmth of this visit’s blessing, the disciples can accept themselves in spite of their fallen ness-- and then be freed to do the work that Jesus will show them. Jesus gives them a mission: "As the Father has sent me, so I send you." The disciples are now united with their Lord as he sends them out the doors into the world. He’s breathes the Spirit on them. Jesus is alive to them and becomes their ultimate reality. But Thomas wasn’t there. Maybe he was out pounding the pavement, braver than we think, risking arrest, checking the evidence surrounding Jesus‘ departure. When Jesus appears one week later to the disciples in the same manner, he turns to Thomas and offers the proof that he demanded: the opening in his side and the nail marks in hands. Thomas feels no need to touch. Jesus says "Do not doubt, but believe." And Thomas exalts with the greatest profession of faith in the Risen Jesus: "My Lord and my God!" There is no need to breathe the Spirit on Thomas. He’s accepted with the others in Jesus’ love. Thomas has the Spirit and Jesus has become his ultimate reality for ever. The one called "Doubting Thomas" probably brought more people to the faith at the furthest distance than any of the Apostles. Doubt is not the opposite of faith, but one of the stages toward it. Only one thing is left for Jesus to do: to declare, once and for all, the blessedness of those who have come to true faith without the need for sight as proof. This isn’t a rebuke of Thomas at all, but an affirmation for the generations to come who will read John’s Gospel-- those who must rely on Jesus’ words and not his physical presence in order to believe. The Risen Lord Jesus stands before us here, today, in blessing, in acceptance, ready to renew us, refresh us, empower us with his love. Not until we show the world by the way we love one another can others experience a healing love that transcends both faith and doubt, and, wherever such love is found, within or without these walls--and only there-- is where the Lord is risen, where he is risen, indeed. Jesus wants to be the ultimate reality of our lives, present everywhere we go, in everything we do. Make Easter the starting point for our view of the world. Let us this morning ratify, in the quiet of our hearts and in the celebration of this Easter Sacrament, that Jesus Christ, the Risen One, is our Lord and our God. Amen! Alleluia! |
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Bloody Cross Sermon for Judgment Sunday, The Fourth Sunday in Lent St. Michael’s, March 26th, 2006 By Father John R. Smith An article by a Methodist pastor caught my eye this week. It seems the Methodists are getting more liturgical. This pastor commissioned a young artist to make a processional cross for the church’s Lenten Sunday services. The pastor wrote: I had in mind something simple, modern and clean, something congruent with North side Methodist Church’s minimalist architecture, something light enough for a white-robed adolescent to carry on Sundays. What we got on the first Sunday of Lent was a dramatic sort of cross, heavy, complete with a realistic, bleeding corpus, a hanging, crucified Christ, blood and everything. Some managed to like it because a nice person had made it. Some liked it because they appreciated the intricate carving. But many were upset because it was "more Catholic than Methodist," "gory and depressing," or didn’t "go with our colors." What is a modern, progressive, slightly liberal, well-budgeted Methodist church to do with a bloody cross these days? What are we going to do about that bloody cross ourselves? This is the Fifth Sunday of Lent and next week is Palm or Passion Sunday. It’s a good thing that last Sunday was Refreshment Sunday--the church in its wisdom knows we need a respite before enduring Jesus’ tough journey to Jerusalem and the Cross. But today its back to the trail with full pack on. And the first thing that happens is we overhear Jesus‘ confession: "Now my soul is troubled." Hey, wait a minute, its ok for us to be troubled about things in our lives (one of our parishioners was tied up and robbed recently). We’re troubled about how the whole immigration battle will settle out. And the bloodshed that continues in Iraq and Afghanistan to secure Democracy and Freedom troubles us. We live in a very troubling "hour". We expect to be troubled, but You, our rescuer, O Lord, You are troubled? This shakes us up! But what do we really expect? Is a bloody cross too much for us too? St. Francis of Assisi in his Admonitions says to his ragged band in the 13th century: "Did the Lord’s flock actually follow him in tribulations and persecutions and hunger, sickness and trial and all the rest, and thereby receive eternal life from the Lord? What a great shame, then, that while the saints actually followed in the footsteps of the Lord, we, today’s servants of God, expect glory and honor simply because we can recite what they did?" So the children are marching--leaving their classrooms without permission and protesting the very real possibility many of their parents will be made criminal felons with a vote and a stoke of a pen? Would Jesus stay obediently in his seat or be out marching with his fellow students protesting adult fear and greed? God doesn’t ask the easy things; Satan does. The Anglican writer, Madeleine L’Engle, writes: "Again and again, God asks the impossible. We can be reluctant. Throughout history, most of God’s chosen people have been reluctant. We can say, ‘It’s impossible!’ and turn away. . . When I’m in a quandary about something, I usually ask, ‘What would Jesus do?’ And often I don’t know. Life is very different at the end of the 20th century than it was 2,000 years ago. But I know whatever Jesus answer would be, it would be an answer of love. And love like Jesus’ is seldom easy. When it’s easy, it’s sentimentality, not love." So like the Pastor who has to process into his church behind that explicitly bloody cross, with people whispering "that’s not Methodist, that’s a Catholic cross," like Jesus, we are drawn into his Hour: in our lives, in our families, in our church, in our communities, and in our nation and world. We are coming to a crisis point. It is finally here. Like the seed that must die for new life to sprout, we must die to the popular and acceptable and embrace the cross. We have always intended to be law-abiding people, but the Gospel prohibits any law that would prevent us from loving our neighbor. No positive law by which we govern ourselves can stop us from trying to be faithful to the interior covenant written on our hearts beginning at baptism. We have a Covenant written on our hearts. Cruel, external laws that allowed Christian slaveholders to have their slaves branded like cattle, or the Nazi’s, some of whom were Christian, to tattoo ID numbers on captive Jews, or in recent times, Christian soldiers in Bosnia carved crosses on the foreheads of Muslim POWs, just can’t be congruent with the Baptismal Covenant and the promises we have made to respect the dignity of every human being. The Baptismal Covenant is a difficult proposition. In this time of body markings and piercing, no external sign will tell anyone you are one of God’s people. Like Jesus did many times, we may want to say, "My hour has not yet come." But finally it does come. He knew it. We know it. It is now. We look to Jesus and how he addressed His Father: ""Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name." The Hour of Judgment-the Greek word is KRISIS- is the hour of decision and separation, and most importantly the Hour of Glorification. When we stand with God, God stands with us in glory. If Last Sunday was called Refreshment Sunday, then this Sunday is called Judica Sunday: Judgment Sunday. From Judica me Deus in Latin-- Judge me, O God." Judge us, Lord. You have the right. It has been easy to distance ourselves from the Cross. But judge us with mercy. We ask for the grace of having Jesus stand before you advocating on our behalf. Deliver us, Father, from deceit and injustice, our own and that of others, so that we may indeed be Your people. We ask through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord. Amen. |
 Bob MacMahon RIPSermon for the Funeral of Bob MacMahon St. Michael’s, March 18th, 2006 By Father John R. Smith "All that the Father gives me will come to me, and anyone who comes to me I will never drive away . . ." We come together this morning to remember our friend and brother Bob MacMahon and enter a very real Gospel truth: When we are given to God by our baptism in Jesus we at the same time are given to one another. As Bob was given to God in his baptism, God gave him to us . We are family in Christ-- water is thicker than blood. We experience Bob and each other as gifts of God’s love. Bob regarded the church as his family and
said so in his recent letter
thanking everyone for helping with his set of teeth. The letter
is on the
bulletin board by the parish center.
Bob was part of the family for sure, like
the glue that you don’t always
see, but holds parts together. Bob was a chef and loved
cooking. He made
breakfasts after the 8am mass for years and when we needed someone to
cook for
the trail bosses on our Pony Express campaign years ago, everyone said
to ask
Bob MacMahon. Sure enough he did. When we had Soup n Bread
suppers during Lent
for a number of years Bob always made a soup. He said he couldn’t
attend, but a
big pot of soup would be ready to be picked up. It was always
delicious.
Bob was mindful and had eyes that saw
things that were needed. One was
that we should record the readings and sermons at mass for anyone
shut-in who
would like to listen. He acquired the necessary equipment and
became a familiar
sight at this recording station by the pulpit. Bob’s eyes saw
beauty as well.
We give thanks for his photography. Our best pictures of the
church and the
altar at Christmas and Easter were taken by Bob and graced our parish
directory
and other publications. Every time we look at those
pictures we remember what
a gift he had and was to all of us.
But, for me, the word that describes Bob
the best is the word
"integrity." Bob was truthful about who he was and what he stood
for. I
remember Bob when I first came to St. Michael’s. He made an
appointment and
shared his story with me. One of the facts of Bob’s life was that
he lived on a
small fixed income and could make ends meet when he had a housemate
that shared
expenses. When for periods of time he didn’t have someone
sharing, it was
rough. Occasionally he would ask for a loan from the
discretionary fund and
said he would pay it back. Cynthia Mulvaney, our parish secretary
at that time,
told me that Bob always paid back his loans. And, over the years,
he always
did, and then some. He knew that we could depend on him and he
believed he
should be able to depend on us-- again, like a family.
We will miss having Bob around, mostly
because we realized that he could
draw out the best in us. But, like St. Paul tells us, perishable
bodies have to
put on imperishability and what is mortal, mortality. When Kelly found
Bob
kneeling by his bed a week ago Sunday it was as if Bob knew that God
was near
and Death was defeated: O death, where is your victory?
Where, O death, is
your sting? Bob wasn’t perfect, but God gave him the victory of
Jesus’ death
and resurrection. Bob is with us, right here, right now.
We ask ourselves "How can a person be in
two places at one time?" How can
Bob still be with us if he’s with God? Well, look at where we are
right now,
gathered here before the altar getting ready to give thanks to God for
Bob’s
life and friendship in Holy Eucharist. We’re here on earth, but
we find
ourselves at the banquet of heaven. Bob’s at the banquet too,
reveling in the
"rich food, well-aged wines" and myriad recipes of love. Tears
and disgrace
gone forever, nothing but gladness and rejoicing in salvation.
Jesus makes it
possible: we’re here, but really there too. Bob’s there,
but really here too!
Amen!
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 LaughterSermon for the Second Sunday in Lent St. Michael’s, March 12th, 2006 By Father Roger O. Douglas One of the studies I came across while researching my book on retirement was from Harvard University. They conducted a study for 60 years on people as they moved through transitions in life. I’m sure you could guess what many of their findings were about retirement. They found it takes adequate finances, good health, and good relationships to transition from work to retirement. There was also one characteristic, I failed to mention in my book. I want to correct that right now. Harvard University found that it also takes a sense of humor to make a successful transition. Their findings were that we are better able to face the predictable trials and tribulations, stress and anxieties of transitions, if we can do it with a smile. A sense of humor is evidence of someone who has learned to take the agony and ecstasy of life’s transitions with a grain of salt. I would also add that a sense of humor is a necessary ingredient for a Christian. In today’s Old Testament lesson, we have a story about Abraham, in which to tell the truth, I haven’t been able to find anything humorous, As a matter of fact, I really don’t understand it. One commentary that I read said, it’s a story that marks the transition between child sacrifice and animal sacrifice. That’s nice…so what? Not very enlightening. So, rather than stand in all my ecclesiastical finery, which makes a preacher hard to contradict, (particularly when he’s six feet above you with a light shining like a halo over his head)—rather than doing that, I’m going to take you back to some earlier Abraham stories, with the hope that as we unravel them we can make sense of this strange lesson. We first meet Abraham living a comfortable life in Harum. One day God speaks to him, telling him to leave and go with Sarah, his wife, to start a new life in some god¬forsaken part of the world. Speaking of transitions, that was a biggie. God also told Abraham that if he left, a new nation would emerge from his seed. So Sarah, being the good wife, packs everything up with only a bit of grumbling, and away they go. After several years traveling, Sarah begins to question whether Abraham really had understood God’s message. Here they were childless and getting on in years. Can’t you just hear Sara saying: “Yah, yah, you and your voices. Are you quite sure that’s what God said?” When Sarah’s nagging got really intense, God sends a messenger to tell them not to despair. I promised that you would have a child. Trust me,” he said. Sarah’s reaction was to burst into laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’m way passed the stage of child bearing.” And God’s response was; “O.K. have it your way. I hope you’ll name the kid Isaac,” which in Hebrew means laughter. I have never been able to understand why laughter is not mentioned more often in the Bible. This is one of the few times we run across it. And in the New Testament, I have only been able to find one mention of laughter from Jesus. Do you suppose that’s why every picture that I’ve seen of Jesus is so serious, so bland, or’ mostly insipid-looking? Surely, Jesus must have enjoyed a good belly laugh once in a while. It’s artwork like that, and lack of any mention of good times in scripture, that influences our understandings of the faith. I met a man this summer who told me his father was very religious. I said; “Oh, you mean he was bursting with vitality and joy.” “No,” he replied, “he was mean, narrow, and void of any sense of humor.” My experience in dealing with people is that it is always a serious warning signal when a person has no sense of humor. Individuals who cannot manage a smile as they face the absurdities of life are in serious trouble, and have misunderstood what it means to live with the promises of God. Returning to Abraham and Sarah, we see they had a sense of humor. Nine months later, God did for Sarah as He had promised. Sarah, who by now, according to Scripture, was about ninety, laughed all the way from the geriatric ward to the maternity ward when Isaac was born. The ability to laugh is one of God’s most important gifts to us. The one time I’ve run across this fact in the New Testament is when Jesus says: “Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.” (Luke 6:21) Which means, those who are in pain can still have the gift of laughter, if you believe in the final victory of God. , Norman Cousins, the author and editor of The Saturday Review, found this to be true 40 years ago He came down with a crippling disease that doctors believed was irreversible Cousins wrote: “Nothing is less funny then being flat on your back with all the bones in your spine and joints hurting. A systematic program was indicated. A good place to begin was with laughter. I gathered all the amusing movies I could think of. We pulled down the blinds and whenever the pain started, we watched movies like the old Marx brothers films. It worked. I made the joyous discovery that 10 minutes of genuine belly laughter would give me at least two hours of pain free sleep; I found that laughter is good medicine.” Cousins goes on to say, this wasn’t so much a prescription, as it was learning. “Laughter made me better able to handle life’s problems.” Moving back to Abraham and Sarah. Can’t you just see them at the Tuesday Morning Bridge Club? That group usually sips coffee and talks about their aches and pains, their gall bladders and cataracts. Now there sits Sarah with her bassinette. Everybody having a great time. Laughing at the ability of God to work wonders. “Blessed are you who weep, for you shall laugh” in the future. Why? Because nothing is too wonderful for God, who makes promises and keeps them. I guess my real learning from all of this is that laughter is a close relative to faith. It comes about when we can recognize that the so-called destiny of the world, the significance of our lives, is not left entirely up to us. God is busy and He has made us some promises. And those promises are surer than the troubles we face. The secret of an Abraham is that he believed wholeheartedly in those promises. Now let’s return to our lesson this morning, that strange incident of Abraham sacrificing Isaac. I’m still not sure what it means, but one thing is clear. Even Abraham can find something to smile about if he can trust in God’s promises. Did this really happen?/ Stories like this are an assault on our faith, they seem so strange. But we can still smile at the twisted ways that God uses to remind us of his promises. The real question is, do we have the imagination that is required to have such a story speak to us? For remember, where there is faith, you will find laughter. And where the promises of God are believed, your weeping will turn to smiles…. Amen. |
 Baptismal JourneySermon for the First Sunday of Lent
St. Michael’s, March 5th, 2006 By Father John R. Smith This morning my thoughts are with our catechumens who will be enrolled as baptismal candidates. All the readings during Lent are chosen for the purpose of preparing candidates for Holy Baptism and all of us are invited to live out the meaning of our own Baptism vicariously through them. Remember how children play the game "Will
you forget me?" "Will you forget me in a day?" No, the
other child answers "No." "Will you forget me in a week?"
"No." Will you forget me in a month?" "No." Is the answer
again. "Knock, knock." "Who’s there?" "I thought you
said you would never forget me!"
The Rainbow in the sky means God will
never forget us--ever. But God had to start over to get to this
Covenant deal. Things had gotten pretty bad on planet
earth. Before today’s passage it says: "The Lord God saw
that the wickedness of humankind was great on the earth, and that every
inclination of people’s hearts was only evil continually. " So
God sent the floods to drown out the evil and keeps only Noah and his
family who pleased God and the animals "two by two." This was
such a drastic measure on God’s part that when the flood was over God
promises that a way will be found to never destroy the world again, no
matter how much it turns away from God‘s way. How?
This takes us to the Gospel for
today. "In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was
baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out
of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending
like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my
Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’" The greatest
proof that God didn’t forget us is sending Jesus, his only Son, who is
drowned "ala the Flood" in the waters of Baptism. This time when
sin had to be dealt with God sent his Son instead of a flood!
I wish the story could end with the
Baptism and a new Paradise Revisited, but Jesus after his Baptism is
immediately driven out into the wilderness to be tempted by
Satan. This pattern makes me shake in my boots: Baptism,
followed by temptation. We shouldn’t be too surprised (though it
often scandalizes us) that we too are tested by temptation after our
Baptism; God wants us to become who we are, more and more like Jesus,
flavored by our own unique personalities. Temptations keep us
humble, test our mettle, and keep us open. Being open is a
prerequisite for spiritual growth. In order for God to enter our
lives fully, we must be ready to receive. The door to our inner
self must be wide open. Our mind and heart need to be receptive
so that we can heart and receive the New Life that God is offering
us. Temptations force the door to our inner self wide open.
It’s God’s way of "getting through to us," to communicate with us, to
nourish us, to stretch to love others who are tempted as well.
The Covenant of the Rainbow becomes the
Covenant of God’s love in Jesus Christ. After our Baptism we can
still anger God, we may do things that God doesn’t approve of, but God
still loves us, calling us to live a better life. God doesn’t
push us away, reject, or condemn us. God only sends Jesus through
the sacraments to reconcile us again and again.
This Lent is a good time to remember who
we are and to cultivate a healthy sense of temptation in our lives and
that we don’t resist sin enough. Like the guy struggling with his
diet who brings a box of Danish pastries to the office.
Confronted by his co-workers: What’s going on? I thought
you were on a diet! The guy answered: I drove by the pastry
shop and said I would only stop and pick some up if I could find a
parking space right in front of the store. Sure enough, after
eight times around the block, there it was a free space right in front
of the door!
So temptation is a given for us baptized
folk. Usually when we think of temptation we think of sex or
overeating. Maybe that isn’t our temptation, maybe it is.
Perhaps the great temptation we face today is what someone recently
called "respectable selfishness." Working our way into various
life scenarios looking good, concerned about the right things, but its
all on the surface. We really only care for ourselves.
So as we prepare to renew our Baptism,
Lent gives us a chance to examine our lives. Our we really aware
of God’s creation and care for the environment? Do we struggle
with what we use or waste? How do we treat ourselves? Do
anger and fear sweep over and control us? Do we love ourselves
like God loves us? God created this world to be good, and he
placed us in a magnificent garden and gave us company and asked us to
take care of that garden and each other. God made us to keep
company with Him, and despite all that we do to reject God, and all
that we do to harm each other and ourselves, God reaches out to us and
calls to us to come to his side and to love and enjoy the world that he
has made.
No matter what we have done, when we
stand at the door and knock, God won’t ask "who’s there?" he will
instead open the door and welcome us in. Live fully, and don’t be
afraid of temptation. Trust God to send angels to minister to you
through the temptation as he did with Jesus. Ask for forgiveness
for yourself and be easy on your fellow sinners near and far. The
promises that God has made, the promises we see in the Rainbow and the
Cross, are forever; they have not been and will not be broken.
Accept these promises, continue the struggle with inner, confident joy,
and thank God for all his mercies. Amen!
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Meeting Jesus on Lizard Mountain
Sermon on Last Sunday of Epiphany (before Lent) St. Michael’s, February 26th, 2006 By Father John R. Smith This past Thursday our church
office was closed for Rodeo Days so I took the day off. My
daughter Annie was also off from school that day. When I read the
morning paper I noticed an article in the Caliente section about a hike
up Lizard Mountain in the Catalinas. When Annie got up I asked
her if she would like to go on a hike. We both agreed and made a
lunch an took off shortly before noon.
We found the parking pullout near milepost 16 on the Mt. Lemmon highway. I was surprised that we were the only ones in the pullout. With the newspaper article I thought others might have the same idea. The article said the trail was not maintained, but fairly easy to follow because you could see where others have gone. Annie took the lead and soon we were up 7300 feet on the head of the "Lizard." It was a beautiful, cool day and you could see for miles around, and Tucson, framed by four mountain ranges, a mile below. Standing on the top of the Lizard’s head looking around in every direction it was an awesome experience though my new progressive lenses made me feel a little dizzy so I sat down. Annie pointed out a flat area where we spread out a blanket for our picnic lunch. We talked about how neat it would be to pitch a tent there and stay. Annie even found a rock that looked like a sofa 10 feet away. Yes, it would be nice to stay. For me, it was a perfect place to go to contemplate the Gospel story of the Transfiguration. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John, all fishermen, who would be the "pillars" of the early church, up Mt. Tabor to give them an experience of who he really is. They had already heard Peter confess that Jesus was the Messiah. But shortly afterward Jesus told them that he would have to suffer and be put to death. When Peter protested-- Jesus directed strong words at him: Get behind me Satan! Now on the mountain it was different. Alone with Jesus, away from the crowds, they could get a new perspective. But they got so much more. Jesus was transfigured before them, his clothes and face dazzling, shining white. And with Jesus stood Moses and Elijah talking to him. Wow! Peter’s first thought was to stay for a while in that experience, set up camp. We can’t blame him-- it’s hard to leave places of revelation and beauty. But then in all that dazzling light a Cloud came over and there was a Voice saying: This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him! And at the height of this experience (no pun intended) everything was gone and only Jesus was left with them. What could a mysterious event on the top of a mountain far away and long ago, possibly have to do with us here and now? I believe it is very important. It opens a window on another world and lets us see who Jesus really is. It was hard enough for the fishermen who knew him well to understand, and they were there: they at least had their own direct experience of it to remember. But they passed it on to the other disciples of Jesus, and what they experienced is told in slightly different ways by Matthew, Mark and Luke; and there is a later reference to it in the Second letter of Peter written at a time when the early community united by severe persecution is now on the verge of dividing off from one another: For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had bee eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying "This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased." We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain. (2 Peter 1:16-18) See how the apostles have passed on their experience. They were eyewitnesses, and that was their great importance in the early church: we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty, they said. They said it was not a cleverly devised myth, not like some, they said. According to the gospel writers, the three apostles all saw something strange which caused them to feel afraid, yes, but they also wanted to stay there, and when they did go down the mountain they went with the deep conviction that Jesus was the Son of God. It is to confess Jesus as Lord of all in that grander scheme of things that I believe we are called today. We do need to follow him in humble service in the streets that are busy with human life when we come down from the mountain, but we will not serve him truly if we do not acknowledge him as the Lord of our whole lives. The Christian life is more than social action for the good of others. It includes that. It is more than maintaining tradition or keeping a local church alive, though we hope to do that. And it is more than having our own private experience of the presence of God or glimpses into the spirit world, though it may include some of that too. It is, above all, a response to Jesus, knowing him to be the Messiah, the holy one of God, the Son of God, the one who is the Lord of all in the great drama of life. Our worship of Jesus in his glory points us toward service in the world where we are challenged to take up our cross and follow him. It requires, loyalty, commitment and sacrifice. That only make sense if he has a right to our absolute devotion because of who he is. Everything depends on that: who is he? That is the question which disciples asked and which they began to answer for themselves in such experiences as they had with Jesus as they talked with him on the road and as Peter, James, and John looked through that window onto another reality as he was Transfigured on the mountain. These experiences inspired and equipped them to become his apostles, leading others who shared this faith, proclaiming him as Lord and serving him in great hardship, carry their own crosses to the ends of earth, in many cases going to painful deaths in devotion to him. The dazzling light is shining on us. Can we answer the question of who Jesus is? The Christian faith depends absolutely, and in the end, solely, on who Jesus is. Nothing less than renewal of faith in Jesus as Lord, the one who came from God and is God, will save our day. Let us see Jesus transfigured before us and hear the voice from the cloud: This is my Son, my beloved. Listen to Him. Our individual lives, families, church, and community will move from survival to revival. With renewed faith we start back down the mountain, sometimes our feet sliding out from under us causing us to wipe out (like I did on Thursday!), but we get right back up again and get into our daily lives. We now have a confident spirit, freed to forgive and love, serving others with new energy. If Jesus is Lord of the Church, our divisions can be healed and we can be light to a struggling world. The Apostles proclaimed it-- we know it: Jesus is Lord! |
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Don't Stop Believing
Sermon for the Fifth Sunday After the Epiphany St. Michael’s, February 5th, 2006 By Father John R. Smith How does the
power of belief work for us in a positive sense? I come to this
question from an unusual direction. There is a new book, becoming very
popular right now I think, entitled "The best little investment guide
ever." The author, a successful Wall Street money manager, wrote the
book to teach his two grade school aged boys what he did for a living.
Using the simplest of terms and stories he shares with his boys, and
now the public, the distilled wisdom of investing. The book's teaching
contains a "Magic Formula" of how to pick stocks that will work for all
times and beat the market consistently in the long term. Wow, a way to
make a lot of money that's easy to use if you just stick with it.
That's the catch
I guess: If you just stay with it. You have to believe in the
Formula and not give up on it. Now we all know that if everyone
invested the same way in the market using a formula to pick stocks then
all the same stocks would be bid up in price at the same time and
everyone's returns would be mediocre. Yes, this could happen with this
Magic Formula. You see, the Magic Formula in the book is fantastic--
anyone here in the church this morning would want to agree when they
studied it. Using the Magic Formula will bring stellar returns. There's
only one problem: The Formula works great over the long term, but often
five months or so out of the year it doesn't work and returns look very
poor, and unfortunately, sometimes the Magic Formula won't work for up
to three years-- everybody else's returns on their investments will
look better.
What's going on
here? Well the Magic Formula as he calls it really does work, but you
have to stick with it for the long term. You have to believe in
the formula and stick with it even if the returns are down in the dumps
for periods of time. Most people when they experience even the first
five months of drought bail out and quit using the Formula. The author
proves that the Formula works and produces tremendous wealth, but
admits that many people give up way too soon, so human nature the way
it is, people don't end up buying the stocks picked by the Magic
Formula, but the ones who do reap great rewards.
In my last parish
there was an attractive young woman who asked for a talk every couple
of years or so. She never had any problem getting dates, she worked in
the Pinal County infrastructure and had plenty of offers. She was
having a hard time finding the right person and often was hurt in the
process. As her priest I didn't know what to say to her except to
continue to trust God who sees our hearts and may choose to send Mr.
Right into her life. I think in the seven and a half years I was at
that parish, we had three sessions and each time I said about the same
thing: keep on believing and don't give up because God won't give up on
you!
Well, I came to
this parish, and, of course, would ask God to work out His will in
Marcie's life. The parish after a time called a new Priest. He was an
acquaintance of mine and I told him to call if he ever needed advice or
just a listening ear. He was only there around six months and one day I
received a call from him here in the office. Hi Larry, I said, what's
happening in my old stomping grounds? Well, he said, can I ask you a
question? Sure! Ok, then, What do you do if you want to date someone in
your own parish? I hesitated a moment to catch my breath and blurted
out: Make sure you tell the Bishop and get his counsel! I will, he
answered. Oh, by the way, I said, who is the parishioner? Marcie, he
answered!
Marcie's
continued trust in God in a matter crucial to her life, even through
periods when things looked bleak and disappointing, bore great fruit in
her life. Literally, I might add, for Larry and Marcie have three
beautiful kids and he's a rector of a parish in New Hampshire.
So, I'm trying to
make the case that we should never stop believing in our relationship
with God and that trust in the call of Baptism which makes us members
of the Body of Christ, the Church. When I say never-- I mean never. And
if you've been away, thrown in the towel, bailed out, know that if
you've given up, you can, with a flick of a switch in your mind or
heart, start over with no penalty at all. But be true to your mind and
heart as best you can, serve and trust the Lord, and stick with it!
But how do you
stay strong in your faith and not bail out in the first place? The key
is Jesus' example in the Gospel today. "In the morning, while it was
still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there
he prayed." The time, morning, during the day, or evening is not
important. What is important is to find a place where we can be alone
before God. Time spent in that place before God strengthens our faith
and trust. It isn't even important what we say or what God says to us.
It's like being in love-- just being there with the Beloved deepens the
relationship. Like Jesus, leaving the deserted place, we move on in our
journey, ready for anything. Like Elisha we will be empowered to be a
healing presence to others. Like Paul, we can be all things to all
people. We begin to be under the discipline of God and become a true
disciple of Jesus! This is the Formula that brings the greatest of all
returns!
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Power of Belief Sermon for the Fourth Sunday After the Epiphany St. Michael’s, January 29th, 2006 By Father John R. Smith I studied philosophy in college. I loved it and all the big ideas we studied. In the first year we spent a lot of time with the Greek philosophers, especially Aristotle. For centuries people believed Aristotle when he said that the heavier an object was the faster it would fall to the ground. Aristotle was considered the greatest thinker in the world-- he could never be wrong about this. It was only hundreds of years later in the sixteenth century that Galileo called together the greatest scientists in Italy to the Tower of Pisa to witness the great test of Aristotle's teaching. Galileo got up high on the leaning tower and took a one pound weight and a ten pound weight and dropped them. Both objects landed at the same time, but you wouldn't have known it, because the scientists and the crowd refused to believe it. They denied their own eyesight and continued to say that Aristotle was right. The power of belief is so strong. People will believe anything they want to believe or have always believed and do anything they want to do out of those beliefs. If someone believes seatbelts will trap you in your car instead of save your life, they won't wear one unless they have to by law. Think about the proven wisdom about things that are harmful to people and yet they continue to do them. We could stop right now and make a list that would be a mile long! We could argue all day about the topics on the list and never come to an agreement with someone who thinks otherwise. Meanwhile we stay trapped in beliefs, behaviors, and states of being that are evil and harmful for us. Into this world of people enslaved by various demons comes Jesus Christ in today's Gospel. After Jesus' baptism by John he begins his ministry which amounts to peeling back of layers of evil and spiritual resistance like the skin of an onion. Jesus had to do this so people could begin to live truly free in His Kingdom that is breaking in to the world, driving out one by one the demons that bind people in unhappiness, pain, and anger. People were astounded by Jesus' teaching because he didn't teach like the scribes and Pharisees who liked to say "Rabbi so and so taught this," while the recipients never changed much at all. Jesus taught with "authority" you either accepted it and allowed it to change you, or you hated his challenge to your own convictions and beliefs even if they weren't getting you anywhere for the longest time. The word "authority" in Greek is exousia, which means literally "out of being." What people were saying is that, unlike many teachers, Jesus taught out of the core of his being. This moved them. Jesus was fully engaged in his teaching-- it was never matter of fact. They could debate it, but, like the core of his being, the basic truths he taught wouldn't change. Isn't interesting that the first place Jesus cast out a demon was in a Synagogue-- the gathering place of his people. Could we surmise that if Jesus came in the flesh today that one of the first places he would cast out demons would be in the church? "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?! Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God." Imagine one of us, here in the church today, standing up and saying something like that. Don't be surprised that it hasn't happened: I can assure you that someone is thinking this every Sunday, maybe every single time we gather to really hear what Jesus is saying to us. Don't be surprised that when the teaching of Jesus challenges one of our beliefs or convictions, when Jesus' teaching is threatening to supplant our own wisdom, we, good people that we are, would like to scream, run away, and never come back. But this morning, we're the remnant. We are the ones trying, at least one more time, to heed the words of the One sent from God. When the people in Moses time, heard the voice of God out of the burning bush it almost shared them to death: If I hear the voice of the Lord my God any more, or ever again see this great fire, I will die. So God sent the prophets and finally he sent Jesus who spoke with authority. It would be easy to forget about all this-- plan a completely different Sunday for ourselves, finish the paper, watch the game. Instead we put ourselves in an uncomfortable place where all our "knowledge" which puffs up and inflates our egos, is blown up in a cloud of smoke by the Gospel. We're left in situation where the only thing left to build our lives on is love. It will always come down to love and how to love, as Jesus did, the only really necessary knowledge. Let us, in a culture where people make choices based not on love, but their own preferences, perceptions, and fears, ask for the gift of spiritual discernment to hear the voice of Jesus Christ "through whom are all things and through whom we exist." |
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the times from insignificance: Sermon for the First Sunday After the Epiphany St. Michael’s, January 9th, 2006 By Father Roger O. Douglas Well, here we are. Two weeks after the Christmas celebration. As I was thinking about the sermon the other day, I picked up a book of W.H. Auden's poetry and reread that wonderful piece, For The Time Being. Let me share a few of the closing words. Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree, Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes -- Some have got broken -- and carrying them up to the attic. The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt, And the children got ready for school. There are enough Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week -- Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot, Stayed up so late, attempted -- quite unsuccessfully -- To love all of our relatives, and in general Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed To do more than entertain it as an agreeable Possibility, once again we have sent Him away, Begging though to remain His disobedient servant, The promising child who cannot keep His word for long. The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory, And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now Be very far off. But, for the time being, here we all are, Back in the moderate Aristotelian city Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where Euclid's geometry And Newton's mechanics would account for our experience, And the kitchen table exists because I scrub it. It seems to have shrunk during the holidays. The streets Are much narrower than we remembered; we had forgotten The office was as depressing as this. To those who have seen The Child, however dimly, however incredulously, The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all. For the innocent children who whispered so excitedly Outside the locked door where they knew the presents to be Grew up when it opened. Now, recollecting that moment We can repress the joy, but the guilt remains conscious; Remembering the stable where for once in our lives Everything became a You and nothing was an It. And craving the sensation but ignoring the cause, We look round for something, no matter what, to inhibit Our self-reflection, and the obvious thing for that purpose Would be some great suffering. So, once we have met the Son, We are tempted ever after to pray to the Father; "Lead us into temptation and evil for our sake." They will come, all right, don't worry; probably in a form That we do not expect, and certainly with a force More dreadful than we can imagine. In the meantime There are bills to be paid, machines to keep in repair, Irregular verbs to learn, the Time Being to redeem From insignificance. Somehow, Auden's words seemed to fit with my mood. After the glory of Christmas, there is an inevitable down feeling, so well expressed by the phrase: "Well, that's that." After putting everything away, taking back the presents that don't fit, we slip into the day to day routines as if nothing really is changed. But wait, Auden suggests that we really have a task, whether we acknowledge it or not, the birth has given us an assignment: To redeem “the time being,” the time after Christmas, from insignificance. We love to hear about the baby. There He lies in the manger. The little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes." No demands, no tasks, no claims on us are made, as long as we focus strictly on the birth narrative. But what happens we go beyond the manger scene? What then are we called to do, to be, to have happen? What happens when anticipation becomes reality? When the cry, "Mary, you are going to have a baby," is transformed into, "World, we have got us a Messiah." What then? Every year after Christmas, I spend an evening going over the Christmas cards we have received. They're beautiful, a wonderful reminder of dear friends. Most of them have pictures of the baby Jesus, and underneath are words like joy and peace. While I was looking at them this year, I had a fantasy. Suppose there was a picture of an Adult Jesus, and instead of words like peace and joy there were words like: "Go sell all that you have and give to the poor. Merry Christmas.” Or, "Whoever takes up the sword, dies by the sword. Happy Holidays." If we ever received cards like that, we might take closer notice to the meaning of the baby. It might even go so far as to transform some of the sentimentality of Christmas into the reality of what it means to follow Jesus. As a great preacher (Fred Craddock) once said to his congregation after Christmas; "The wait is over, now expectations become fulfillment. When Jesus is coming becomes, Jesus is here, and you had better do something about it. It’s no longer cooing over a baby. It's what are you going to do for God? How are you going to redeem your times from insignificance? How are you going to live as a baptized person? A few days ago, the church celebrated Epiphany. Now for many people this is a tell known part of the Christmas season. Everybody knows the three kings, Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar. They know by heart the story of these three gentlemen who came from foreign lands to bring gifts. We sometimes even go so far as placing these characters as a part of the manger scene. Much as I hate to say this, they don't really belong there. The story of the wise men or three kings has no historical basis. Matthew is the only Gospel writer that mentions the visitors, and he never calls them kings. The word he uses is Magi, which generally referred to traveling in magicians or entertainers. And never does he call them by name. And they came after the birth, if they came at all. And finally, there is no mention of camels. So much for the history lesson. I feel like the Grinch who stole part of the Christmas story for some of you. But going back to this story, have you ever wondered why the early church kept this apocryphal story?And why would they make it so prominent? My guess is that Matthew wanted to say something more then a birth has taken place. He wanted a story that pointed to the future. He wanted to emphasize that we needed to go beyond the vision, beyond the agreed possibility that a savior had been born, beyond the celebration, to the next day, to following a star He probably wanted to show us some people who were actually redeeming their lives from insignificance. But what about yourselves? How might you redeem your life from insignificance? That's our question this morning. And I can not really answer that question for you. I can't actually hand you a road map. We preachers are often tempted to stand six feet above contradiction and give answers. All I can do today, is point you in the possible direction, and promise we will pursue the question in further sermons. But this much I can say. Redeeming one's life from insignificance is a journey of discovery. It’s an inner journey that will take imagination and daring. In Auden's long narrative poem, he gives us some clues to this journey. Auden has each of the wise men tell why he is on his p ey. The first one says: "To discover how to be truthful now/Is the reason I follow the star." The second says: "To discover how to be living now/Is the reason I follow the star." And the third says: To discover how to be loving now/Is the reason I follow the star.” And then all together they say, “To discover how to be human now/ Is the reason we follow the star.” Take these words as hints, as clues, as ways that you may start your own journey. Good people, redeeming the time from insignificance is the most important voyage you will take in 2006. For all who have seen the vision of the birth, this is our assignment, a voyage of discovery, in the new year. Discovering how to be truthful, how to be loving, how to be living, and how to be human. At the conclusion of the Christmas day service, I was handed a card with a Christmas Benediction. It was a touching prayer. I would like to thank that person, and give back a New Year’s benediction inspired by that card. May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers and half truths, so that we may follow our stars. May God bless us with enough foolishness to believe we can be truly loving, and make a difference in the world, as we follow Jesus. May God bless us with sufficient madness to hope that we might redeem our times from insignificance. Amen. |
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