Sermon for 2nd Sunday in Lent, 2021

Homily for Lent 2, 2021

Fr. Tony Melton

Christ the King Anglican ATL

There is nothing scarier than demon possession. This is why horror movies, which aim to scare, are filled with possession. It is the greatest human fear because to be possessed by a demon is to lose possession of one’s self. That is the height of desperation. There is no cry for help stronger than from one who loses possession of one’s own vessel, as St. Paul says in our our Epistle. Our Propers this morning couch the human predicament in terms of possession, and the solution as possession of the heart by God.

Our subject this morning is the cry of the heart to God for help. Throughout this homily, I will touch on all four of the Propers in your booklet. I encourage you to take your bulletin home and on some morning this week retrace the clear connection between them.

First, I’d like to show you simply how the Propers connect with each other. Then, we will notice the common theme of the cry of the heart for one’s own heart. Then, we will focus on the story of the Canaanite woman as a template for our own petition to God for deliverance.

First, the propers for this morning connect to show that God answers the cry of the foreigner. The Old Testament lesson is on page 7 of your booklet. It is the prayer of Solomon at the consecration of the Temple. In the second paragraph, Solomon asks God to hear the cry of the foreigner, to do what the foreigner asks of God, so that the foreigner would come to know and fear God.

The Gospel for this morning is on page 11. It is the story of the Canaanite woman, a foreigner, crying out to Jesus, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.” The foreigner cries out to Jesus, who is the New Temple, and her prayer is answered.

Psalm 86 is on page 5. It is a cry for help. Verse 1, “BOW down thine ear, O LORD, and hear me; * for I am poor, and in misery.” Verses 1-7 are all about a person crying out to God to save them. Verses 8-10 are all about how God is above all the other gods and how all nations and foreigners will know the true God and turn to Him only for help.

So again, Solomon prays that God would answer the prayer of the foreigner who prays toward the Temple. The Canaanite woman, a foreigner, prays towards Jesus and is granted her request. Psalm 86 is really a powerful prayer, a cry for help. I encourage you to read through Psalm 86 this evening or this week imagining it to be the prayer of the Canaanite woman. The overlaps are enlightening. Like in verse 16, “Give thy strength unto thy servant, and help the son of thine handmaid.”

Now that we have the connection between these three passages, namely the answered cry of the foreigner, let’s look at a theme which arises from each of these petitions. At the center of all three petitions is the possession of the heart by God. All three passages ask God to possess the heart.

Teenagers are known for their fervent desire for freedom. With their partially formed frontal lobe, they will fixate on the next stage of their independence. “Oh, when I finally get a car!” “Oh, when I finally get a phone!” “Oh, when I’m finally on my own!” The idea of freedom is that they will finally get to do what they want to do. What most men and women come to find out, and it is a rude awakening indeed, is that not only do we don’t possess our own lives, the greatest barrier to freedom is that we do not possess our own selves. Our hearts are possessed by many other things. By God’s grace, they will come to their Romans 7 moment where they realize that even though they have a car, and a phone, and an apartment, they still do what they don’t want to do, and the don’t do what they want to do. They will come to realize that true freedom comes when we possess ourselves, truly. And to truly possess ourselves means that we are possessed by God.

Let’s walk back through the three passages and see how they are really about the cry of the foreigner for possession of his own heart. Solomon prays, “…whatever supplication is made by anyone, or by all Your people Israel, when each one knows the plague of his own heart, and spreads out his hands toward this temple: then hear in heaven Your dwelling place, and forgive, and act, and give…” This is the prayer that we bring to God. “God, my heart is diseased! Help me!” Or, as we pray today in our Collect, which totally has to do with what we are talking about, “O God, who sees that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves, keep us…” Possess us.

The Canaanite mother is asking God to possess her daughter’s heart, to drive out the demon that oppresses her. To fill her daughter’s heart like the smoke filled Solomon’s Temple.

And the Psalmist, too, cries out for God to possess the heart. Psalm 86:11 is perhaps my favorite verse in all of Scripture. “Teach me thy way, O LORD, and I will walk in thy truth: * O knit my heart unto thee, that I may fear thy Name.” O knit my heart unto thee… Possess me. Possess my heart. This is the cry of the foreigner. It is the cry of humanity.

What does this have to do with us? It connects with us in at least three ways: who we are, where we are in the Church Year, and what our task is. First, we are the foreigners in Solomon’s prayer. Praise God that the Gospel has gone out to us, most of whom are Gentiles. Second, this word meets us where we are in the Church Year. It comes to us on the 2nd Sunday in Lent, 10 days into our fasts, just long enough to really see what our Collect says, “that we have no power of ourselves to keep ourselves.” 10 days to see that our heart is far more possessed of its habits and sins than we thought. And so we are given several ways to cry out to God for Him to possess our hearts. “O God, heal the plague of my heart!” “Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.” “O knit my heart unto thee, that I may fear thy Name.” “Almighty God, I have no power of myself to keep myself. Keep me. Possess me.” Third, it helps us understand our task.

In the Epistle, St. Paul exhorts the Thessalonians, “that every one of you should know how to possess his vessel in sanctification and honour; not in the lust of concupiscence, even as the Gentiles which know not God.” Do not be possessed by Sin like the foreigner. Possess your vessel in sanctification. This is our task. Possess ourselves. Possess our hearts. But we are like the Canaanite woman. We have no power of ourselves to help ourselves. We are like the Psalmist, we are poor and in misery. Like Solomon says, each man knowing the place of his own heart spreads out his hands toward the Temple. St. Paul says possess your vessel, and we labor for that, with all our strength. We walk in the commandments of Jesus.

Here what Paul says, “We beseech you, brethren, and exhort you by the Lord Jesus, that as ye have received of us how ye ought to walk and to please God, so ye would abound more and more. For ye know what commandments we gave you by the Lord Jesus. For this is the will of God, even your sanctification, that ye should abstain from fornication…That you do not defraud others in any matter. That you possess your vessel.” That task stands. We all have this duty upon us. And we are all powerless to help ourselves.

What we do in this powerlessness is very important, and it is where many get off track in the spiritual life. In so many branches of theology within Protestantism, the only purpose of God’s requirement is to show us that we can’t meet it so that we accept His forgiveness for our failings. That’s ridiculous. The primary purpose of God’s requirements is to show us what He must be, what we will be. His command to possess my vessel, to be perfect, is not so that I can say, “Thank God that I’m forgiven for not living up to it!” It is to drive me to prayer of the Canaanite woman. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David. Possess my heart.” It is to drive me to the prayer of the Psalm, “O knit my heart unto thee.” It is to drive us to the question of the disciples when God told them the requirement of perfection, “Who then can be saved?” At this moment of desperation, when we realize that we have no power of ourselves to help ourselves, can we truly pray and cast ourselves upon the mercy of God. Our hope is not primarily that God would forgive us our sins, though He has and He will. Our prayer is that God would possess our heart. That He would knit our hearts to Himself. That He would make us perfect, holy, and happy in that holiness.

And He will if we ask. If we truly ask with all our heart. If our true desire is that God would save us, then He will. “Knock and the door will be opened.”

It was customary at many monasteries to deny those who came to join. The newbie would knock at the door and ask to be a monk and they would tell him, “No, go away.” If he stayed, or came back, they would tell him, “No, go away.” Only if he was really persistent would they allow entrance. This is often how God is with us.

Notice in the story of the Canaanite woman how she begged God for her daughter, and Jesus answered her not a word. Then, the disciples asked Jesus to shut her up. Then, he said, “I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” She simply says, “Lord, help me.” Then, he says, “It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs.” Finally, after she responds with some wit, does Jesus grant her request. She was rejected 4 times! First, by silence, then by dismissiveness, then by criteria, then by insult. Jesus called her a dog!

Listen. The Scripture is clear. If you want to be possessed by God you must cry out to Him. Not with half your heart. Not once. But all always. The desire for Him should fill our being, so that entrance into His Kingdom is our only possible future, so that no matter how often we meet with failure, no matter how often He is silent, or tell us, “No, go away”, we keep knocking. We keep praying. We keep begging.

He will answer the prayer of the foreigner. He hears the cry of the heart. He heard it in Solomon’s day when people prayed toward the Temple made with hands. But this morning we ascend into heaven itself, we press through the veil that was torn, into the Holy of Holies. We don’t pray toward the Temple, we pray in the Temple. Praise God that He has allowed us, foreigners, to be that close. Amen.

Sermon for the 1st Sunday in Lent, 2021

“The Wilderness and the Cross: An Invitation to Fasting”

The First Sunday of Lent, 2021

Rev. Dcn. Kyle Hughes

Whenever I teach my high schoolers about the early church and the church fathers, there is always one figure who manages to stick in my students’ minds: St. Simeon the Stylite. If you’re not familiar with Simeon the Stylite, he was one of the most famous of the early desert fathers in the early fifth century, for he ended up living for 37 years on top of a small platform on a pillar in the Syrian desert. For Simeon, this was in fact just one of his many notable--or perhaps we might say extreme--feats of asceticism. One Lent, for instance, he went the entire season without eating or drinking anything at all. Later in his life, his extreme fasting was combined with standing on his pillar, without support, for the entirety of his fast. Supposedly, when he did need to eat, pulleys brought food up to him in buckets--which, I imagine, must also have been used to bring waste back down. Simeon, not surprisingly, died as he had lived--on top of his pillar--though the phenomenon of stylites would continue for generations after his death.

When we talk about asceticism--that is, the practices of giving up material comforts and pleasures in order to stretch, train, and discipline our souls--my mind immediately goes to saints like Simeon the Stylite and I think that surely things like fasting cannot be for me. Our collect for this first Sunday in Lent, though, reminds us that asceticism is something that is for all Christians, even--and perhaps especially--for those of us who will not spend our lives standing on top of pillars in the desert. The collect focuses on perhaps the most well-known ascetical practice, that of fasting. Crucially, the collect tells us that fasting isn’t something that we practice for its own sake; rather, fasting is a means by which our flesh might be subdued to the Spirit and that we might grow in obedience, righteousness, and holiness. This morning, we will look at how this morning’s propers, first the Gospel and then the epistle, help us better understand the spiritual significance of fasting as we, as a church, commit to engaging with this practice during this season of Lent.

Starting with the Gospel account of Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness, we see that, when it comes to fasting, Jesus is both our example and our empowerer. Our example, and our empowerer. As in so many other things, our Lord leads us by example. Before beginning his public ministry, Jesus withdrew into the wilderness where he fasted and prayed for 40 days. It was only after this intense period of testing and preparation that he then inaugurated his preaching career. This would, in fact, be a characteristic pattern of Jesus’ life and ministry; time and again in the Gospels we find him leaving his disciples to go up onto a mountaintop to pray to his Father. If this active-contemplative balance was necessary to fuel and sustain Jesus’ own life, I strongly suspect it is not an optional element of our own spiritual lives. Jesus’ own habits of fasting and prayer, then, serve as a model for us. 

Note, however, that the collect seems to imply something beyond Jesus merely being an example for us when it says that Jesus fasted for 40 days and nights “for our sake.” What might this mean? Here we have to look more closely at the Gospel account of Jesus’ wilderness wandering: in this crucial moment in his life’s journey, as he intentionally sought after his Father with prayer and fasting on the cusp of his public ministry, Jesus experienced temptation from the devil. But whereas we will all stumble and fall in the face of temptations at various points in our lives, Jesus models perfect obedience to his Father and succeeds where we fail. And, in so doing, Jesus’ faithfulness accrues to our benefit. As we learn in Hebrews 2:17-18, Jesus “had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are tempted.” If we struggled against the devil alone, we would surely lose, but because of what Christ has done, because we have been given grace as God’s adopted sons, we too can triumph over the devil. Thanks be to God: Jesus does not merely give us an example of how to fight against temptation, but he gives us the power that we need to win the victory over the flesh, the world, and the devil. Indeed, as we fast this season of Lent, praying that we would be increasingly conformed into Christ’s likeness, we can count on there being opposition from the devil, who does not want us to grow and strengthen our spiritual muscles. With Christ’s own example and power, though, we can increasingly turn from vice and towards virtue, both in this Lenten season and beyond.

Why, though, is the specific practice of fasting commended, by both Scripture and the Prayer Book, as such an important spiritual practice? What could possibly be the connection between abstaining from certain things, be it food, drink, or technology, for a given period of time, and our growth in obedience, righteousness, and holiness? This morning’s epistle reading, from Second Corinthians chapter 6, gives us one such connection. In this passage, St. Paul reminds the Corinthians about the nature of his ministry as an apostle. Paul has not been a celebrity pastor, jetting into Corinth on his Gulfstream and showing off his new preacher sneakers and expensive hipster jeans. Rather, Paul argues that his ministry has been approved precisely by those things that the world would count as strikes against him: “afflictions, distresses, stripes, imprisonments, tumults,” and so on. And yet, Paul tells the Corinthians, he is able to live “as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing nothing.” In other words, as Paul writes in Philippians 4:11-13, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

What Paul is saying, in both Second Corinthians 6 and Philippians 4, is that he has learned to find his approval and contentment not in the things of this world and in his physical circumstances but rather in God alone. But how did Paul learn this “secret”? Undoubtedly, he learned this in part through the “fastings” he references in our epistle reading, among the other ascetical practices he speaks of when in First Corinthians 9:27 he refers to how he disciplines his body and keeps it under control. You see, Paul, like the church fathers of the subsequent centuries, had a keen understanding of how intentionally chosen suffering, through practices such as fasting, can prepare us for those hardships that will inevitably be thrown at us that we do not choose. Rod Dreher, in his book The Benedict Option, sets out this connection in more detail: “A Christian who practices asceticism trains himself to say no to his desires and yes to God. That mentality has all but disappeared from the West in modern times. We have become a people oriented around comfort. We expect our religion to be comfortable. Suffering doesn’t make sense to us. And without fasting and other ascetic disciplines we lost the ability to tell ourselves no to things our hearts desire.” As Dreher goes on to explain, the Christians who will be able to withstand potential coming persecution--when faith in Christ may mean the loss of a friendship, social standing, employment, or more--are those who have taken the time to practice, by their own volition, suffering for the sake of Christ.

It was in this way, I suspect, that by having trained himself in practices of self-denial Paul was able to persevere and find joy even amidst the grave trials and tribulations of his apostolic ministry. The same dynamic, I believe, was at work in the life of Christ himself. Hebrews 12:2 tells us that Jesus endured the cross and its shame “for the joy that was set before him.” In this Lenten season, we journey with Jesus from the wilderness to the cross. These two bookends to Jesus’ story as we trace it through the season of Lent, the wilderness and the cross, are in fact closely connected. Matthew explicitly links Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness with Jesus’ final temptation in the garden of Gethsemane; the same Greek word, peirasmos, for “trial” or “temptation,” appears in both scenes. What if it was precisely Jesus’ wilderness wandering, where he learned to deny the cravings of his human flesh and to submit in perfect obedience to the will of the Father, that prepared him for his ultimate act of self-denial and suffering by which he accepted the Father’s will and went to the cross? What if, in the same way, our own wilderness wandering during this season of Lent strengthens us to take up our own crosses and grow in obedience, righteousness, and holiness? 

This, then, is the invitation for each of us this Lenten season: to follow Jesus’ example and to be strengthened by his grace as we go into the wilderness, to practice denying ourselves some of our earthly comforts and to strengthen our spiritual muscles so that we would be the kinds of people who can follow him, not just into the wilderness but on the way of the cross. It is in this sense, then, that we can understand the famous words of Saint John Chrysostom: “Fasting is wonderful, because it tramples our sins like a dirty weed, while it cultivates and raises truth like a flower.” How, then, are you planning to go about engaging with the discipline of fasting this Lent? Father Tony has invited us to choose some food to abstain from throughout Lent, noting that “meats and sweets” is one traditional fast. Likewise, given the particular challenges of our modern times, Father Tony has encouraged us to engage in a technology fast by disconnecting from technology on Sundays. 

Two final things to note as we bring this homily to a close. First, even though Lent has started, if you haven’t already decided on a plan for engaging in the discipline of fasting this Lent, it’s not too late! Don’t hesitate to reach out to one of the members of the clergy team if you have any questions or concerns, and if you haven’t already done so, be sure to watch Father Tony’s excellent catechesis video on the Lenten spiritual disciplines, which was posted last week on the CTK website and YouTube page. Second, remember the words of St. Benedict, whose Rule has been so instrumental in the development of our Anglican approach to spirituality: our approach to spiritual disciplines should be one that includes “nothing harsh, nothing burdensome.” That is to say, we need not literally move to the desert and, like Simeon the Stylite, spend the remainder of our days on top of a pillar, eating and drinking nothing at all for the entirety of Lent, in order to gain some of the spiritual benefits of fasting and asceticism. One approach that I’ve found useful is the following: however you observed Lent last year, try and push yourself a little bit further this year. Over time, you will find these ascetical practices to come a bit more naturally as you strengthen these spiritual muscles more and more. May God indeed “give us grace to use such abstinence, that, our flesh being subdued to the Spirit, we may ever obey his godly motions in righteousness and true holiness, to his honor and glory.” Amen. 

Sermon for Ash Wednesday, 2021

TURN ye even to me, saith the Lord, with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning.  And rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God.

Life is a constant turning, a continual conversion, a perpetual repentance. But within the year there are days especially given to Penitence and Repentance. It is fitting to have a day devoted to turning and a season given to it. It is human nature to ignore the most sublime things and to treat lightly the most weighty responsibilities. We like to put off what is needful and to give a fraction of our attention so that we end up walking for months and years in the same wrong direction. So on Ash Wednesday and during Lent, we rally ourselves to do what needs to be done. To change what needs to be changed. To turn.

This is what the Prophet Joel was saying to Israel. “Sanctify a fast, call a solemn assembly, gather the people. All the people.” Why? Why couldn’t the people stay at home? Why couldn’t they repent without the drama? It is because repentance is a turning, and turning takes effort. To do what needs to be done, God’s people have to rally themselves to stand up, turn around, and walk toward righteousness. This is what we are doing this evening. We come together to turn toward God. For some, this is a slight change of direction, a refocusing even. For others, a 180 is needed. But we turn toward God together and we walk toward God together.

Of course, the great mystery of our salvation is that it is by God’s grace that we turn at all. In fact, in the Liturgy we ask Him particularly that He would do the turning. We say, ”TURN thou us, O good Lord, and so shall we be turned.” This is a great comfort. Lent is a time for great feats of penitence. A great turning. But it is also a time of Grace where God comes very near to His people to turn them. This is the Dance of Salvation. It is called Participation. God shines His face upon us and we bloom like a flower. He lays His hand on us and we rise and walk. He feeds us and in that strength we walk in the works that He has for us. This evening, allow God to turn you and take real steps in that new direction. This is the journey of Lent: a walking in the direction that God points us. “TURN thou us, O good Lord, and so shall we be turned.”

Sermon for Quinquagesima Sunday, 2021

Homily for Quinquagesima Sunday

February 14, 2021

Fr. Tony Melton

I’ve had an experience a few times while being married to Vandi. This experience has happened between 5 and 10 times throughout the 14 years of our marriage. We will be going about our day, and I will be struck with the realization that she is a different person than me. This might sound very strange to you, and that probably means that you are a much better person than I am. For about a minute or so, I’ve felt the clearest apprehension of her as an individual, distinct from me, with her own story and fears and hopes and wounds. Every time it has happened, and she can tell you this, I am moved to say, “Oh my goodness, you are a different person than me.”

I have come to interpret these episodes as gifts from God, who is the perfect communion of three distinct persons, the perfection of love in that communion. Within the Triune God is the perfect apprehension of the Other, which is Love. To love to is to truly see the Other, and in that full apprehension of the Other in their Otherness, to desire their good fully.

Our texts today are the Epistle and the Gospel, namely, St. Paul’s Ode to Love and the story of the blind beggar. The theme for Quinquagesima is Love. The fact that today is Valentine’s Day is serendipitous, perhaps providential. Our Collect begins “all our doings without Love are nothing worth.” The reason why this theme is given to us today, on Quinquagesima, is because we are about to enter into a season full of “our doings”, acts of “love”, and it is essential that we hear that all our deeds are worth nothing without love. All our fasting, prayers, almsgiving, roses, chocolates, and back rubs, are worth nothing without love.

This idea that love is the apprehension of the Other is found in both the Epistle and the Gospel readings. Let’s start with the Gospel. Jesus is taking the twelve up to Jerusalem and is explaining, in detail, all that will happen to him. “For [the Son of Man] shall be delivered unto the Gentiles, and shall be mocked, and spitefully entreated, and spitted on: and they shall scourge him, and put him to death: and the third day he shall rise again.” But they understood none of these things. They couldn’t see it. They could not see Jesus for who He was. They could only conceive of Jesus as they wanted him to be. They did not love Jesus. They loved the idea of Jesus, which meant that they loved themselves, which is not really love. So, they were blind.

They continue on the road, and what would have it, they run into a blind man begging by the side of the road, and he is screaming at the top of his lungs, “Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me.” And the disciples rebuked the man, “Don’t disturb the teacher!” Jesus has the man brought to him and asks, “What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee? And he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight. And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight: thy faith hath saved thee. And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God.

What do we learn? First, we learn that the disciples were blind in two ways. They could not see who Jesus was and what He really came to do, and they could not see the blind beggar. To them, he was an annoyance. They ignored the fact that he was one of the only people to recognize Jesus as the Son of David, the Messiah. To them, he was a clop of human flesh, taking up space, breathing their air, inflicting their ears with pitiful screams, but they had no pity. He was not another person. He was not the Other. It was as if he didn’t exist at all. Second, we learn that sight is the gift of God. Jesus grants the man vision. Now he can literally see the Messiah, and the disciples.

St. Paul also speaks of love and vision in the Epistle. In 1 Corinthians 13, he says, “Love never faileth…For we know in part… But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away…For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” When perfect love is come, then shall we see clearly, face to face. We will know truly the Other, which is God. Love is not blind; it gives us sight!

Men, perhaps you’ve experienced this frequent marital mishap. The week is hectic. And even though your wife is an incredible homemaker, the house can every once in a blue moon get a little messy. Moved by a deep, real desire to have a clean kitchen, you clean it, poorly, with a slight bit of resentment, muttering under your breath. “I work all day…” Near the end, you realize what our Collect states so clearly, that “all our doings without Love are nothing worth.” So you try to sweeten up, flash a smile or a wink to your Bride, but it is too late. She knows that your labor was not done out of love, but out of resentment. And, just as the Collect says, it is worth nothing.

We have seen that Love is the ability to see the Other, and that at least for me, this is a rare and divinely given occurrence. What the example above illustrates is that it is extremely difficult to act truly out of love. So love is rare and love is hard. Even our best actions are often mixed with vainglory, or quid-pro-quo, or the desire to possess another person exclusively, either as a friend or as a spouse. It is also difficult to grow in love. I mean, look at the disciples. This story is in Luke chapter 18. Chapter 18! They had 18 chapters to learn not to treat blind beggars like that! They had 18 chapters to be able to come to such an understanding of the Messiah that we he said, “They are going to beat me, spit on me, crucify me, and then I will be raised from the dead”, that they wouldn’t say, “I don’t get it.” But they had not love. They could not see. Not yet.

St. Paul also communicates in his own way the difficulty of acting out of true love, or possessing the virtue of love. He says, “though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not Love, it profiteth me nothing.” You’d think that giving away all one’s possessions to feed the poor, or dying a martyr’s death by fire, would automatically qualify as a loving act. Yet we learn from the passage that even great “doings” such as these can be without love, and if so, are worth nothing.

And lest we take comfort in thinking we possess love when we do not, the very description of love by St. Paul confirms that true Love, true perception of the Other, true desire for the Other’s Good, is far beyond any of our reach. “Love suffereth long, and is kind; Love envieth not; Love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love never faileth.”

Where does this leave us? We have seen that love empowers the soul to truly see the Other, both God, the Cross, and our Neighbor. We have seen that love is extremely difficult to possess, and impossible to attain to. And the clear warning of Quinquagesima Sunday is that without this love, all our doings, all our disciplines and acts of Mercy, are worth nothing. What are we to do with this?

The answer is simple. We are to play the part of the blind begger and cry out to God to have mercy on us, to remove the blindness of selfishness and give us a vision of the Other. I commend to you the beggar’s prayer, which is perhaps the most frequently said prayer in the history of the Church, “Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me.”

Or, pray the Collect for this week. “O LORD, who hast taught us that all our doings without Love are nothing worth; Send thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of Love.” Notice that our only hope for acquiring Love comes from God’s action through the Holy Spirit. The only way to attain to the unreachable description of Love in 1 Corinthians 13 is for God, who is Love, to pour into our hearts His very nature. How can all your doings this Lent be of great worth? Pray to the Lord your God to grant you that most excellent gift of Love.

And, lastly, of course, receive the love of God in the Eucharist. There is no greater love in all the world than the gift of His Body and Blood for you. When we receive Him, we dwell in Him and He in us. Just like with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, the Eucharist opens our eyes to behold Him face to face, to perceive each other as distinct persons, and to love one another, even as we are loved.

I leave you with Fr. Farrer’s Paragraph on Quinquagesima, a great devotional resource for the Liturgical Year.

“WHAT is this gift of Love?  I stand before the altar today, I spread out my hands as though to call down something from the skies, and I ask for Love.  In asking I say that unless I receive it, I may seem to myself to be alive, but God will see that I am dead.  Am I dead, then, or am I alive in his eyes?  Have I this gift?  Will God give it me?  What is it, to begin with?  Not only doing the decent and helpful thing, for, says Christ’s apostle, I might go to the extreme of visible generosity, I might give all my goods to feed the poor, and yet lack Love.  Still less is it mere tolerance and a show of amiability.  It means that a caring for God and my neighbour becomes the stuff of my being, the mainspring of my will, not something joined on from outside.  God does not have love, he is love, and to have love we also must become it.  Why then, if to be alive I must have love thus, it is plain enough that I am dead.  Let me be dead; I come to this sacrament to take part in the resurrection.  I throw myself into the hands of God, and God is known to be God by this token: he raises the dead.” Amen.

Sermon for Sexagesima, 2021

Sermon for Sexagesima Sunday, 2021

Luke 8:4-15

Dcn. Bill Johnston

          Christians have observed Lent for centuries. It was first mentioned in the Canons of the Council of Nicaea in 325 A.D.[i]  Saints Chrysostom, Augustine, and Cyril of Alexandria all wrote about it.[ii] You may be relatively new to Christian life in the Anglican Way, and asking yourself how you can make the best use of Lent. Others, after observing countless Lenten seasons, may be wondering how this one will be different from all the others. These are exactly the kinds of questions we should be asking this morning. This is the reason the Church has provided these three Pre-Lent Sundays as a time to prepare for Lent.

          Today’s Gospel, Luke 8:4-15, is about preparation. It is a well-known parable, and recorded in all three Synoptic Gospels. It is often referred to as "The Parable of the Sower," but this is something of a misnomer. The sower is referred to only one time. The parable is not about the sower, or even the seed - the word of God. No, the parable is about the soil - that which receives the word of God. The parable is about us. The setting of the parable is quite ordinary.  A farmer is sowing seed by hand into a field that has a path running through it or beside it. The structure of the parable is very clear. In verses 4-8, Jesus tells the parable. Verse nine is a transition – His disciples ask Him the meaning of the parable. In the remainder of the passage, verses 10-15, Jesus tells them what the parable means. Just three parts. Here is a parable. What does it mean? Here is what it means.

          Jesus begins by saying that the seed is the Word of God, and this seed falls on four types of soil. First, some of the seed falls on a path. The seed is trampled and eaten by birds. In the later interpretation, Jesus says there are those who allow the devil to take the Word away from them. Second, some of the seed falls on rock. The seed begins to grow but then withers because there is no moisture. Jesus says that in times of testing, some people will fall away. Third, some of the seed falls among thorns and is choked. The cares, pleasures, and riches of life can prevent the Word from bearing fruit. Only the fourth kind of soil is described as “good ground.”  The seed springs up, grows, and yields fruit a hundredfold. The entire parable could neatly be summed up this way: “There are many ways of being bad soil, but only one way of being good soil.”

          It could be that simple, if it wasn’t for the last verse – Luke 8:15. Listen for three characteristics: “But that on the good ground are they, which in an honest and good heart, having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience.” This verse is key to understanding the entire parable, and has direct application for our preparation for Lent.

          The “good ground” - the only one of the four which brought forth fruit - has three traits. First, the good soil represents those with an honest and good heart. Lent begins on Ash Wednesday, and we will pray the Collect for that day every day for 40 days. We might expect that this Collect would concern a Lenten discipline, but that is not what we find. Instead, we will pray every day for God to “give us a new and contrite heart.” Before He can give us a new heart, however, the old one must be torn. This is the reason that the Opening Sentence for Morning Prayer during Lent begins “Rend your heart, and not your garments…”[iii] This phrase - “rend your heart” - comes from Joel 2:13.  As an aside, this is another one of those countless examples that when you pray from the Prayer Book, you are praying Scripture. Here is the full context of the verse: "Yet even now," says the LORD, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments." Return to the LORD, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.”[iv] Rending one’s heart is a sign of grief – grief for one’s sins. During Lent, we are called to return to God in contrition, which is sorrow for sin, and repentance, which is turning from sin. Lent is about all the prodigal sons and daughters saying, “Enough with these empty husks of the world! My father is gracious and merciful, abounding is steadfast love. I will return in contrition and repentance, and He will welcome me home.” When we rend our hearts this way, we allow Him to give us a new one - one that is honest and good.

          The second trait of those represented by the good soil is that they hear and keep the Word. There is no shortage of books and sermons about obedience. Most Christians are aware of their duties. How often we fall short, though. We can identify with the Apostle Paul in Romans 7: “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”[v] So why aren’t we as devoted as we would like to be?  The 18th century Anglican priest and author William Law provides a blunt answer: “…Your own heart will tell you that is it neither through ignorance nor inability but purely because you never thoroughly intended it.”[vi] Think about your past resolutions. They begin when you get a new understanding of something you should begin doing, or stop doing. You want to hear and keep the Word. Later, though, an exception is made here and there. “Maybe now is not the time. Well, I do have a lot of things going on right now.”  And all this sounds very reasonable. But let us go back to that moment of decision. Did I fully intend to hear and keep the Word? Regardless of any future adjustments, inconveniences, or costs, was my intention firm, or did I leave some back door? However we decide to observe Lent, whatever changes we want to make, we should ask for the grace of a firm intention to be completely obedient. So far, we have seen that the good soil represents those who have been given an honest and good heart, and hear the Word and keep it.

          The third characteristic of the good soil in verse 15 is that it “brings forth fruit with patience.” The word we translate “patience” here has nothing to do with passivity. It means steadfastness, constancy, endurance. We’re talking about one of the four cardinal virtues – fortitude.  Without fortitude, we wouldn’t stick long with anything worth doing. How many times have we given up on something worthwhile simply because we didn’t see results soon enough. In the parable, the good soil brings forth fruit with patience – with fortitude. Saints have always known this. And here is a connection with today’s Epistle. To bear fruit, the Apostle to the Gentiles needed fortitude. Do you remember the list from 2 Corinthians 11? Imprisonments, beatings, lashings, stonings, shipwrecks, and hunger and thirst. In one verse alone, “perils” (that is, “danger”) is used eight times. Our fortitude may not be tested in such life-threatening circumstances, but it will be tested. By the second week of Lent, you may get distracted or have some set-backs. Even good soil does not bring forth fruit immediately. However you decide to keep Lent, fortitude will be needed.

          We see now that the good soil wasn’t simply the absence of devouring birds, arid rock, or choking thorns. No, the good soil possessed some things the bad soil did not. If we are to be the good soil, we’ll need to rend our old heart through contrition and repentance to be replaced by God with an honest and good heart. We’ll need to develop the intention of obedience that we will hear the word and keep it. Finally, we’ll need patience – fortitude, steadfastness - in order to bring forth fruit a hundredfold.

          Let’s come back to where we started. How will you observe Lent this year? Will this Lent be different from past Lents? Christians typically give up something for Lent - “meat and sweets.” This can be useful. To avoid pharaseesim, however, each giving up must sincerely express one’s desire to walk closer to God. When done properly, each small act of self-denial can remind me of that greater truth: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.”[vii] And this is the whole point, isn’t it? After all, Lent is not a time-limited self-improvement project. Giving up something for 40 days only requires a modicum of self-will. But to have an honest and good heart, to hear and keep His Word, and to bear fruit in our lives? That will take His grace.

[i] The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, pg. 966.

[ii] Project Canterbury, http://anglicanhistory.org/sparrow/rationale/lent.html, accessed Jan. 4, 2016.

[iii] The Book of Common Prayer, pg. 4.

[iv] Joel 2:12-13b, RSV.

[v] Rom. 7:15, RSV.

[vi] William Law, A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life (1728), chapter II.

[vii] Matt. 16:24.

Sermon for Septuagesima Sunday, 2021

Homily for Septuagesima

Fr. Tony Melton

January 31, 2021

In World War II, President Roosevelt and Winston Churchill went round and round on the merits of a full-invasion of the continent of Europe. After increased pressure from Joseph Stalin to establish a 2nd, western front, they decided to move ahead with Operation Overlord, popularly known as D-Day. 156,000 Allied soldiers attacked 5 beaches in northern France in what would be the largest amphibian attack in history. One year later, the Allied forces had defeated Nazi Germany. D-Day is still credited as being the decisive strategic move that gave victory to the Allies.

War is a terrible thing, but most would agree that it is sometimes necessary. War presses a nation to be tougher, more strategic, and committed to their countrymen and values than they’ve ever been in peacetime. In the Christian year, we enter into battle at least yearly. The Great Fast of the Church called Lent is a battle for our soul, the Church, and the World. No doubt a war is always raging, and we are always called to fight in it. But, thankfully the fatal blow to the Enemy has already been dealt. Jesus Christ has already accomplished His D-Day. He has empowered His Church with His Holy Spirit to finish out the invasion. We don’t focus on this all year. That would be overkill. Most of the year is spent celebrating in the glorious kingdom of God. The Church, in her Wisdom, apportions 40 days in the year to lean into the reality of a spiritual war with the World, the Flesh, and the Devil.

Just like with Operation Overlord, great attack plans don’t develop overnight. They take time, deep thought, expert opinion, guts, and the ability to accept pain and cost for the sake of victory. Since Lent is a battle, it requires a battle plan, and battle plans require a time of planning. For this reason, the Church gives us the season of “pre-Lent”, the three “gesima” Sundays. Today is Septuagesima, Septua means “seventy” and gesima means “days”: approximately 70 days till Easter. Three weeks of pre-Lent to develop a plan of attack for strategic victories against the Flesh, the World, and the Devil.

I’m not pulling this theme of warfare out of thin air. All of our propers offer some vision for how we can fulfill our baptismal promise to “fight manfully under Christ’s banner.” Most clearly is our Old Testament passage, Joshua 1:1-9, which is the primary text for this homily. Serendipidously, Joshua 1:9 is also our Bible Memory Verse for our children this week.

Our theme today is “a spiritual plan of attack” and it is so needed in our time. Everyone loves to celebrate, few are willing to fight. Many come to Christmas and Easter. Few come to Advent and Lent. Everyone loves to feast, few are willing to fast, and those few typically do not approach it with the strategy and focus needed for winning a battle; they don’t fight to win. They punch at the air like St. Paul talks about in our Epistle this morning, and never land an actual punch.

Joshua 1:1-9 is God’s declaration of a war between His people and the Canaanites.  God says to Joshua, “Moses my servant is dead; now therefore arise, go over this Jordan, thou, and all this people, unto the land which I do give to them, even to the children of Israel. Every place that the sole of your foot shall tread upon, that have I given unto you.” In the next few verses, God outlines an enormous area of land, the boundaries of which are only barely realized at the height of the Solomonic Kingdom. “No one will be able to stand against you. I will be with you. Be strong and of a good courage. Be strong and of a good courage. Be strong and of a good courage.” God says it three times in this passage. Joshua is instructed to observe God’s commands, and to keep God’s Word on his lips and on his mind always.

Many of the Church Fathers saw the Book of Acts as a parallel fulfillment of the Book of Joshua. Not only is there a matching preamble with a commission to go and take a land, but there are many episodes which overlap. For example, the story of Achan keeping some of the spoils from the destruction of Ai parallels the story of Ananias and Sapphira keeping back a portion of their offering to the Lord. This parallel should not surprise us. The Old Testament Scriptures are a type, a pattern for understanding the mystery of Christ. We can look at the book of Joshua and learn about the Church. And what do we learn through a typological reading?

First, just as Joshua was to up and go into a land given by God to His people, we are to up and go into the whole world given by God to the Church. The Church doesn’t have different promises than Israel. God expanded the promises made to Israel. He gave the whole area of Canaan to the Israelites; God give the whole world to the Church. This is why He tells us to go to the ends of the earth!

Second, just as God promised to be with Joshua, He has promised to be with us. “There shall not any man be able to stand before thee all the days of thy life: as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.” Sound familiar?

Third, just as God told Joshua to be careful not to stray from the way of God’s commands, so we must proceed walking in the steps given to us by our Lord Jesus Christ. Paul calls this the “law of Christ.” It should never leave our lips or our minds.

And fourth, just as God told Joshua 3 times to be strong and of good courage, so must we if we are to fulfill the task set before us.

We can learn more if we utilize an allegorical reading. The first town that Joshua went to was Jericho. The town was destroyed with ease because God broke down that stronghold. This points to the truth that when we trust in God and enter into battle following His commands, He will often break down strongholds for us. At other times, like with the defeat at Ai due to Achan’s treachery, we might fight and lose miserably because of some unrepentant sin. We could go on and on.

We won’t… It is enough that we have seen in the lesson that we, too, are in a war. Spiritually taken, our marching orders are the same. Up and go, with courage, carefully and constantly walking in the law of God to exterminate all evil and establish a kingdom of righteousness. But in the act of reading Scripture sacramentally and typologically, drawing similarities and carryovers from the Old Testament to the New, it is very important for us to understand the differences.

You might remember the character Admiral Boom and Mr. Binnacle from the movie, Mary Poppins. A navy man who lives on Cherry St, he kept his house in “ship-shape” and stood on the roof with his cannon, watching the nannies and children pass by each day, logging the weather and searching out potential threats. He blessed the quiet neighborhood with cannon fire each day at 8am and 6pm. We don’t want to be an Admiral Boom. He was no doubt still an Admiral, and still had some role in society of protection and care, but the nature and scope of his task had changed and the weapons that once accomplished their purpose were now obsolete and inappropriate.

So, lest we be an Admiral Boom, before we talk about strategy in this Lenten battle we will enter, let us spend a few minutes defining the nature and scope of the task and the appropriate weaponry.

The Israelites marching orders were very direct, they were to follow the Law and exterminate the Canaanites. Where? In Canaan. How? With the sword. Our marching orders are much more complex. First, the nature of the war is spiritual. The Kingdom of God is spiritual. Jesus affirms this when talking with Pontius Pilate. This is not to say that the kingdom of God doesn’t have an affect on politics, or that kingdoms can’t be Christian, it is just to say that our task is not to set up earthly powers by earthy means. Our task is to build the Kingdom of God, which is to say, the Church. The Church is not a-political. It is supra-political, above it all. The currency of this kingdom is righteousness. Its founding documents are the Bible and the Creeds. Its governors are the bishops. Its citizens are the baptized on earth and those at rest in Christ. Its enemies are the World, the Flesh, and the Devil. Its defenses are the Holy Spirit, the virtues of its members, the Truth, Goodness, and Beauty that radiates from King Jesus in His people, the unity of the people, and the tenacity of our Faith. Its arsenal is the Word of God, Prayer, Fasting or ascesis, and Almsgiving or acts of mercy. The nature of the war is spiritual.

And what about its scope? The Church’s war is not confined geographically to the land of Canaan. God has given us the whole Earth. So the kingdom of God is to spread out till all nations praise the Name of the Lord. But, the kingdom of God also spreads inwardly in each and every one of us until every fiber of our being gives praise to God in holiness. Each person is like a microcosm of the whole world. We are to be a new Creation. So, the nature of the war is now spiritual, and the scope of the war now extends to the farthest corners of the earth and the darkest corners of our hearts.

This Lent, you will be called to fight several battles. First, there is the battle to be waged in your own heart. What areas of my life still need to be conquered by Jesus Christ? What strongholds of sin need to be toppled? Second, there is the battle to be waged by your parish in our local community. We as a mission have some specific battle to fight and a role to play in Northwest Atlanta. God through His Spirit guides us in what our mission is, and we work together as a church to accomplish it. Third, there is global battle to be waged. Each of these battles are more and more removed from our sphere of direct responsibility and so it is natural that our energy and involvement is highest in fighting the battle for our own soul, but all three are there.

Now that we have defined the nature and scope of the war that we are in, we can finally talk about strategy, and for the sake of time I will focus primarily on the interior battle to be fought.

First, in the interior battle each of us will have a different target. Close your eyes. Imagine that within you is a wide world. You are standing on a high hill and can see for miles and miles. Spread throughout the landscape are pockets of civilization. To the left is a gleaming city, a cross emerging as the highest structure, it pulses with the life of God. You look down and see a village, small but beautiful. To the right is a town. Its streets are filled with trash. The buildings look shady. Stray animals roam the streets. You look up and notice in the distance massive walls of stone, ugly and terrible, within the walls is the glow of a forge belching thick black smoke into the skyline. You scan the horizon and notice dozens of spots, some gleaming cities, some beautiful villages, some dirty towns, some ominous strongholds. Open your eyes.

These are the virtues and vices, the Kingdom of God is mixed together with our Flesh, just like it is mixed together with the world outside of us. Every one of us has the responsibility to go and possess our inner landscape, to eradicate evil and to establish righteousness, to replace falsehood, wickedness, and ugliness with Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. You are like Joshua standing atop the mountain. Where will you attack first? What is your Jericho? How will you attack it? Will it be in your own strength? If so, you will fail. Only God can break down your strongholds. Will it be half-heartedly? If so, you will fail. “A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways. He should not expect to receive anything from the Lord.” James 1:7-8. Will it be strategic? This is where so many fail.

I love the game of Risk. For those who are unfamiliar, the board is a map of all the countries of the world. The goal is for your army to conquer the whole globe. Each player is apportioned their equal fraction of countries. Then they place a certain number of army units in amounts that they choose. Beginners always spread out their armies equally, two on this country, two on that country. These people always lose. Those who win put all their armies in one area and take over a continent entirely, fortify it, and then spread out. This is how we should proceed in our Lenten battles. Choose one of the spots on your landscape. Is it a virtue that needs to be developed? This is the small, beautiful village. Spend your time and energy fortifying this. In the book, Imitation of Christ, Thomas aKempis says, “If we were to uproot only one vice each year, we should soon become perfect.” Is there a stronghold of sin ready to unleash its armies within on your whole world? Call on every resource to wage war in the name of Christ and don’t stop till God has given you the victory!

Each of you need to be developing a plan. Like Roosevelt and Churchill, you need to think hard about how to best proceed. What if this Lent was your personal D-Day? Their plan took guts. It was costly. It was targeted. It was coordinated. They didn’t make the plan alone. They called in expert opinion. Utilize your clergy. CTK is blessed with four of them. Give them the layout of your inner landscape. That’s called Confession. We can help you form an attack plan.

The Bible has dozens of metaphors for us to understand who we are in Christ. Last Sunday, we were the Bride. The Communion is the wedding banquet. I hope you spent the week meditating on that. On Septuagesima, we are soldiers. The Communion is the field ration, our fortification against fatigue. We go forth in the power and Spirit of God, with every resource. The gates of hell can not stand against King Jesus. So now “therefore arise, go over this Jordan, unto the land which I do give to you. Every place that the sole of your foot shall tread upon, that have I given unto you. I will be with you: I will not fail you, nor forsake you. Be strong and of a good courage, that you may observe all the law of Christ, turn not from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may prosper wherever you go.” Amen.