Sermon Archive
Homily for the 1st Sunday after Christmas , 2021
Homily for Christmas 1, 2021
Fr. Tony Melton
Christ the King Anglican
In the very beginning, God created the world. And the world was bright and beautiful and perfect, like this orange here. And then he created the living things in the world, and they were bright and beautiful and perfect, like this orange. And then He created man and woman, humans like you, and they, too, were bright and beautiful and perfect, just like this…orange. Adam and Eve had a perfect heart, a heart that wanted good things, a heart that did not die, and was never sad, or mad, or bad. When you look at this orange think of that kind of heart, the heart that God made, a bright and beautiful and….perfect…heart.
Most of you know the story already. Adam and Eve sinned. They ate the forbidden fruit, and the whole world changed. Say, “What changed?” I’m so glad you asked. It is complicated, for sure. But one way to understand it is that their hearts began to rot, and shrivel, and shrink. In other words, they stopped being bright and beautiful and perfect. Now, their hearts became dark and ugly and wicked. And so the world became dark and ugly and wicked. So wicked, in fact, that God tried to wash it all away with a huge flood. This is Adam and Eve’s heart after they sinned, and this is the world after their hearts turned dark and ugly and wicked.
Do you like the orange that I’ve given you? It is not a nice orange. It is small and shriveled and squishy and rotten. Every time we sin, our heart gets a little more rotten, and everyone sins. Everyone’s heart is a little bit like that orange, some really rotten, some a little rotten.
There was little hope that anyone could have a heart again like this one: big and bright and beautiful and perfect. That is, until Jesus was born. You see, Jesus is the one that made the world in the beginning. Jesus is the one that made Adam and Eve. Jesus made their hearts, which were bright and beautiful and perfect. So, He became a baby. God became a baby. And inside that baby was not this heart, like you and I have. Jesus had this heart. A perfect heart.
I’m still learning all that this miracle means, but I can say this: Jesus was born to give you a new heart. He came to take away the small, shriveled, and rotting heart out of your chest and to give you a heart that is bright and beautiful and perfect.
But here is the deal, you can’t keep your heart and have the heart that Jesus gives. You have to make a trade. You have to give Jesus your small, shriveled, and rotting heart, and He will give you a bright and beautiful and perfect heart. It will take a long time for your heart to change from this to this, but the change starts right away. And, it means you can’t live for yourself and obey your old heart. You have to live for God and obey Him. That is what having a new heart means. For most of you, God has already started to turn your heart from this to this, because you have been baptized.
Aren’t you happy that Jesus was born? Are you thankful that God is remaking your heart and the world from this to this? So that you remember what God has done for you, and is doing in you even right now, I’d like to make a trade. It is like the trade that you make with God. You give Him your heart, your whole life, and He gives you His heart and His life. Would you like to make a trade?
For the adults:
Christmas is a time in the Church year where we think about the great exchange: “God become a son of man, so that the men might become sons of God.” When the 2nd person of the Holy Trinity became a human person, the entirety of mankind gained a brother. Those who love this new brother are adopted into the new family of God. They have God as their Father. They constitute a renewed humanity. Their love for Jesus their brother is the ticket for the change that occurs within their soul. They are made whole, and bright, and beautiful, and perfect.
I’ve sat in front of these Propers of ours all week, trying to comprehend what the Incarnation means. The Great Exchange of the Heart. Christ our Brother. Adopted as Sons and Daughters of God. But I also thought about what this means for us to do. And on this one I struggled in particular.
In short, I’m not sure the Incarnation bids us to do anything. God was born as a baby. Our status as adopted sons of the Father is contingent on our love for Jesus, our brother. So, I guess if there is an application, it is to love Jesus. During Christmas, things slow down. We are able to contemplate the gift that God has given us, and how much it cost Him. This great exchange was no simple transaction.
So the words that come to mind this week for me are cherish, give thanks, celebrate, rest. God has become a son of man that men might become sons of God. Alleluia. Alleluia.
Homily for the 4th Sunday in Advent, 2021
Advent 4
“The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”[1]
You are sitting outside your home on a pleasant Saturday afternoon. From over your neighbor’s fence you hear children singing the familiar song “Happy Birthday to You.” Even before they finish, your mind will correctly fill in many details about what is happening. You know there are games, balloons, presents, and a birthday cake. You do all this, sight unseen, from just six notes of a song. From today’s Gospel, we learn that when St. John the Baptist was asked by priests and Levites, “Who are you?” he replied with a quotation: “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord.”[2] To his audience, that quote was like the beginning of “Happy Birthday.” They would have known immediately the relevant passage from Isaiah, and recalled specific people, events, themes, and prophesies associated with it. For many of us, though, when the New Testament quotes the Old Testament, it’s like hearing “Happy Birthday” as just another song with no idea of all the other things that are connected to it.
To address that, let’s turn to Isaiah 40, verses 1-11, in your Bibles or service booklet (page 12). It is the appointed First Lesson for Morning Prayer, which we said as the Fifth Lesson in today’s Lessons and Carols. While you are doing that, we need to understand first the historical context of this passage. The prophet Isaiah lived in the 8th century B.C. This was the most prosperous time in Judah since King Solomon. And yet, Isaiah prophesied that the Babylonians would later invade Judah, burn Jerusalem, destroy the Temple, and deport much of the population to Babylon.[3] What is known as the Babylonian Captivity would last about 70 years. But Isaiah also prophesied that God would later raise up Cyrus, King of Persia, who would defeat the Babylonians and allow the Jews to return to their homeland.[4] Isaiah’s prophecies included times of prosperity, loss, destruction, and renewal. Let’s turn to the text.
Verse one - “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” “Comfort” is repeated for emphasis. Now, more than any other time of the year, we see people trying to maximize their comfort. But the verse ends with “my people, says your God.” “My people” and “your God” are covenant words. We are not to be satisfied with superficial, temporary comforts. Real comfort comes through divine covenant; and Holy Communion, where we receive the benefits of Christ’s sacrifice for us, is the covenant meal.
Verse two - Jerusalem’s “warfare is accomplished,” that is, ended, and “her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” Exile in Babylon was God’s punishment for the people’s sins. But it was a corrective punishment. It has served its purpose, and God is now ready to restore them. He offers comfort.
Verse three is key, for this is the verse that John the Baptist quotes - “The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” This verse is one of the Opening Sentences for Advent that we’ve said in Morning Prayer the past three weeks. Do you remember the other verse? Matt. 3:2: “Repent ye, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” The connection between these two verses is clear. We prepare for the coming of the Lord - we make straight His path - by repentance. Repentance involves removing obstacles to God working freely in our lives. Verse four – every valley filled in and every mountain leveled - are vivid metaphors for repentance. The way is made straight for the coming of the Lord.
If we prepare in this way, verse five tells us what to expect - “The glory of the Lord,” that is, His redeeming presence - shall be revealed. This is certain because “The mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.” Look at how the following verses expand on the certainty of God’s word.
Compared to God’s unchangeableness, all creatures are as grass. Compared to God’s absolute and eternal goodness, all earthly goodness fades away. When the Apostle Peter quotes verses 6, 7, and 8 that we are now looking at in the first chapter of his first Epistle, when he reaches verse 8 - “The grass withers, the flower fades: but the word of our God shall stand for ever,” he immediately adds, “[And] that word is the good news which was preached unto you.”[5] Isaiah’s “the word of our God” becomes Matthew’s “Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.”[6]
In verse nine, we become heralds of this good news. “O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with strength.” We are to be strong, and no longer afraid. We can say, “Behold your God.”
The passage ends with verse 11. When we have prepared the way of the Lord, He shall be like a shepherd to us. Notice the repetition: He shall feed, He shall gather, He shall carry, He shall gently lead. We cannot help but think of the future Good Shepherd, who will do all that and more – He will lay down His life for the sheep.”[7] Verse 11 then serves as a bookend to the opening verse. Verse 1 begins “Comfort, comfort my people” and we end with the image of the Lord God as shepherd, tenderly carrying for His flock.
Let’s summarize this passage to see why John the Baptist quoted from it. When John said, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness,” his audience would immediately have recalled Isaiah’s prophesies. They would have thought of prosperity and loss, entire nations rising and falling, and exile and deliverance which occurred over several centuries. What does John the Baptist, the last and greatest of the Old Testament prophets choose to say about all that? “Make straight the way of the Lord.”
You may be in one of two groups of people this morning. Group number one. You haven’t made the best use of Advent so far. Christmas is Saturday. Maybe your work demands increase this time of year, or perhaps you know of some obstacles you have not dealt with, or perhaps it’s more of a lack of spiritual anticipation for Christmas. Don’t despair, and don’t give up. Here’s four ideas in quick order. Advent is a penitential season. There are seven Penitential Psalms listed in the front of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer.[8] You can pray one of those Psalms each day. Second – The Advent hymns are all grouped together in the front of the Hymnal. Prayerfully read one each day. Third – Take your service bulletin home and reread it. In reading something a second or third time, we may read it more deeply. Last - spend more time in intercessory prayer this week. There is a definite lack of “peace on earth” and “good will towards men” these days. Turn a bleak news report into an opportunity to pray for a world who clearly needs a Savior – for people who need true and lasting comfort. What if you could look back and say, “The last year was full of loss, confusion, and uncertainty, but Advent 2021 is when I learned to be a more of an intercessor.” None of these actions are complicated or take much time. All that is required is an act of the will that says, “I will prepare the way of the Lord; I will make straight His path.” When it comes to responding to God’s call, there’s no such thing as “it’s too late.” It’s in the book called Lamentations that we find, “[Thy mercies] are new every morning.”[9]
But maybe you’re in group number two. You have been making preparations. You adopted the suggestions in Fr. Tony’s Weekly Notes to the Mission on how to keep a holy Advent. Yet, you feel that something is missing. In a year which for many people has been far from ordinary, you need something more than an ordinary Christmas. Before his conversion, St. Augustine of Hippo sought fulfillment in the usual areas – career, relationships, influence, and security. Years later, though, he looked back and concluded the dissatisfaction he felt at those things were actually signs of God’s mercy. In his Confessions he said, “…You gave me the less occasion to find sweet pleasure in what was not you.”[10] If the decorations, Christmas music, or even the extra Advent devotions seem to leave us unfilled, perhaps that is God’s way of drawing us past all those to Himself.
In general, how much we prepare for the coming of the Savior depends on how much we think we need one. If you’re facing bankruptcy, you will thoroughly prepare for that meeting with the loan officer. If you’re in a lot of pain, the doctor’s appointment can’t come soon enough. This is why we have been singing “Come, thou long-expected Jesus, Born to set thy people free, From our fears and sins release us, Let us find our rest in thee.”[11] Whether the birth of Jesus is “long-expected” will be in proportion to my desire to be released from my fears and sins. And how deeply I pray “Let me find my rest in thee” depends on how much I am seeking rest in other things.
When we lit the Advent Wreath this morning, we prayed, “Purify us, O Lord. So that we may be ready for your Son.” We need to be purified from distractions, complacency, and misplaced priorities. The valleys need to be filled in, and the mountains leveled. Make straight the way of Lord.
[1] Is. 40:3.
[2] Jn. 1:23a.
[3] Is. 39:6.
[4] Is. 44:28; 45:1.
[5] I Pet. 1:25b, RSV.
[6] Matt. 1:21b.
[7] Jn. 10:11b.
[8] The Book of Common Prayer (1928), pg. ix.
[9] Lam. 3:23.
[10] St. Augustine, Confessions, VI, 9.
[11] Hymnal (1940), 1.
Homily for the 1st Sunday in Advent, 2021
Homily for Advent 1, 2021
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
The Meltons just rolled back into town yesterday at 5:30am. Over the course of our Thanksgiving travels, we drove a total of 33 hours. Normally, I avoid the news like the plague, but when you are fighting off sleep, you’ll listen to anything! What a week it has been—acts of senseless violence, untamed reactions to convictions and acquittals, the introduction of a new variant, the giant inversion of a culture of Thanksgiving in a record-breaking spending spree on Black Friday. I’m not even mentioning the political sphere, the gross injustice to the unborn, the mindless use of debt. And as I couldn’t find a decent song on the radio driving through these small Midwestern towns, I was also struck by emptiness of churches with their silly, sacrine, signs about Santa. I must admit, that I became tired of living in this broken world.
We are living in a post-Christian culture. This is a fact that we often ignore, and that’s okay. We ought not to constantly fixate on the gloomy. There is so much glory and wonder even now! Nevertheless, it is true that we walk through the layers of disintegration every day—societal, political, ecclesial, artistic, familial. Layers of disintegration in a post-Christian society.
And as I sat in my gloom, I was thinking about our Propers for this Sunday, and especially the first verse of our Psalm, Psalm 97, “THE LORD is King, the earth may be glad thereof; * yea, the multitude of the isles may be glad thereof.” And the tiredness of living in this broken, disintegrating world, became a subtle cynicism. “The Lord is King? The earth may be glad?” The disjunct between what I believe and what I see was too much! I had to repent of it, to pray through it. I think this was God’s way of leading me into Advent, where a sense of dissonance between the already and not-yet is the springboard for our Faith.
Our topic today is the The Meaning of Advent—how in Advent we attend to the dissonance between Heaven and Earth. We stare into the brokenness of the world and allow our hearts to ache for the glory that will be revealed when Christ finally returns. For our text, I will touch on all four of the Propers for the day, specifically showing how Psalm 97 and Matthew 21 establish a dissonance that our Old Testament Lesson and our Epistle attempt to resolve.
I’ve already mentioned Psalm 97. “THE LORD is King, the earth may be glad thereof.” This theme on this 1st Sunday in Advent is doubled by our Gospel from Matthew 21. The Triumphal entry. These passages are triumphant, to say the least. The authors of the ancient lectionaries leave no doubt for the pilgrims of Advent. The Lord IS King. Jesus IS King. He was king in Psalm 97, and He is King in Matthew 21. And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way; others cut down branches from the trees, and strewed them in the way. 9 And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.”
And I’ve already mentioned why this establishes a dissonance. If God is King, why this? How does this sense of dissonance result in Faith, not cynicism?
Our answer comes in the Lesson from Isaiah 28 on page 7 in your booklet. Here Isaiah speaks directly to those who have become cynical about God’s rule on the earth. “Wherefore hear the word of the Lord, ye scornful men, that rule this people which is in Jerusalem. Because ye have said, We have made a covenant with death, and with hell are we at agreement.” These scornful men have lost hope that the King will triumph. They are like Saruman in Lord of the Rings. Their lack of hope turns into tyranny. They think that the Son will never return, so they revel in the darkness.
But Isaiah assures them that they will not escape the judgment. Verse 17, “Judgment also will I lay to the line, and righteousness to the plummet: and the hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, and the waters shall overflow the hiding place. 18 And your covenant with death shall be disannulled, and your agreement with hell shall not stand; when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, then ye shall be trodden down by it.”
It might appear like those who are in power can never be upended. You might think that their refuge of lies cannot be dismantled. You might be tempted to think that what has fallen apart can never be repaired. But we have notes of assurance that soon, our King will return, and He will fix all of this!
This is what Advent is for. We name the disintegration of our world, and we say to one another. “Surely the Lord is coming soon. Amen! Even so, come, Lord Jesus.” Advent is a time for us to pray in earnest, “On earth, as it is in heaven!” Advent has a special capacity to name the reality that we face throughout the year. In a post-Christian society, we do not get to see the triumphalism of the kingdom of God like we would have in other times. If our hearts do not acquire the virtues of Advent, will we be able to survive the dissonance of a disintegrating world? Instead of cynicism, we need hope. Instead of gloom, we need imagination. Instead of activism, we need prayer.
I mentioned in my Vicar’s Note this week that I truly believe that the Lord is preparing this church for something. We are a church that sprung up in troubled times. A part of our vocation in this time is to live out the reality of the kingdom in the midst of a disintegrating world. Our name is a reminder of the dissonance. Christ is King? Yes, Christ the King.
But there is one word that is so important for living in times such as these. The early Church flourished in an unChristian society, and they were clear that Jesus Christ was Lord and King. But they resolved the dissonance with an oft spoken word that bridged the gap between what was true in Heaven, but not yet true on earth. It is not enough to have state the Faith. The other virtue of Advent is Hope. Hope is a virtue, and historically it was nourished throughout the year through a single word. We don’t use this word much anymore, but it was once the common greeting among Christians. Without this word, our proclamations of the Lord as King sound fanciful, unrealistic, pietistic, overly spiritual. The word is, “Marantha.” Meaning, “Lord, come quickly.” Say it with me. “Maranatha.” In order to live within a post-Christian society, we must hold fast that Jesus is King, and that He will come again! We must have the virtue of Hope. We must be a “Marantha people”! Only then can we resist the cynicism and gloom of our current age. Only then will we resist the temptation to make a covenant with hell, to pretend that God will not see. Jesus will return. Surely the Lord is coming soon, and He will fix all that is broken, He will resurrect all that is dead, He will rebuild all that has disintegrated, He will correct all injustice, He will restore all that has been forgotten.
This morning, bring your whole self to the Altar. All of your frustrations, disillusionment, desperation. Whatever is broken, carry it with you as you come to God. Let all your angst for your family, cynicism over society, anger with yourself, anything that troubles your heart, be enfolded in the ancient cry of the Church. Maranatha. In fact, Christ the King, let us close out this homily by saying it together three times, “Marantha. Marantha. Marantha.” Amen.