Homily for the 5th Sunday after the Epiphany, 2022

Jesus, Patient Judge

Fr. Tony Melton

During Advent, we reflect on our waiting. “Why not now, Lord? When will you come? Maranatha!” During Christmas, we cherish our Savior and contemplate the Incarnation. “How can this be? Such beauty, sweetness, and mercy. Alleluia!” During Epiphany, we learn who this Messiah is, and what He is here to do. Epiphany sets the backdrop that clarifies and enriches our understanding of the Atonement. These past 4 weeks, we’ve learned that Jesus is the King of Wisdom, Lord of Gifts, Giver of Wine, and Taker of Shame. By establishing His Kingdom, He is making the World clean, purposeful, happy, and wise. 

One of the things I’ve learned as a parent and as a teacher is that you can’t ignore the question of justice. I’m sure all of you have seen a child incensed at the injustice inflected upon them, go to their parent or teacher with their brows raised and their eyes frantic, poised and ready to escalate if their pain is not recompensed with another’s blood or tears. “What are YOU going to do about this?” Most of the time, it is not enough to say, “Hey, chill out. You are a terd sometimes, too!” They want justice, judgment. And this is only natural. God has put within us a desire for justice, and we must be very careful not to squelch this. 

It is only right that this should be a theme for Epiphany. If we are asking, “Who is Jesus and what does He mean?” then the question of justice and judgment is natural. Wasn’t the Messiah supposed to judge the nations with a rod of iron? Wasn’t He supposed to be a refiner’s fire? There is so much evil in the world, and it was still there after Jesus died and was raised. Every now and again, we are awakened to the severe wickedness in the world, and our brows go up, our eyes get frantic. We look to God and ask, “What are YOU going to do about this?”

This is true on a global scale. Who does not think about the judgment of the wicked when they hear about the Uighurs in China, or the mass slaughter of the unborn by contraception or a host of other more violent methods? Yet, what is even more painful for the Faithful is the evil that exists within the people of God. I don’t know about you, but I can section off the actions of the unbelievers in my mind a bit. Heathens do what heathens do. But what really boils my blood is when there is such wickedness in the Church. I struggle to reconcile it within my soul. How can so-called clergy teach the things that they do? How can there be such abuse? How can there be such enmity between churches, and between believers? How can fights go on for centuries within the wider church? How can conflicts go on for decades within a single parish? How can there be such confusion on so many things? And what does this show about our Jesus, and His Kingdom?

This is the natural question after four weeks of looking at beauty of Christ. Now we look at His Kingdom and the World, and dissonance stings our minds. “How, Lord? When, Lord?” And it is with this dissonance in mind that Jesus utters the Parable of the Meadow, within which are planted both wheat and tares. This morning, we will learn what this parable has to say to those crying out for justice and who thirst after righteousness in the Kingdom of God. Then we will ask what the Parable of the Meadow means for you and our church. 

First, what does this parable mean? We see here a farmer who sows good seed in His field. These seeds produce wheat. All is well. But, Jesus says, an enemy snuck in at night and planted bad seed. Those seeds produce tares. Today, a “tare” is sometimes called “darnel”, and its nickname is “drunkard’s wheat.” If you eat it, you’ll suffer from vertigo, or something more serious. While it is growing, darnel, or tares, look exactly like wheat. And that is significant. You cannot tell them apart until it is time for harvest. In the parable, the farmer’s servants want to go out and pull up the tares, the darnel, and therefore make the field pure. But the farmer forbids them out of concern for the wheat saying, “Nay, [do not tear up the tares], lest while you gather up the tares, you root up also the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest.” 

A few questions. What does this mean? The Kingdom of Heaven is mixed. The Church Militant, the Church on Earth, is mixed. It is not pure. Just like the meadow, the Word of God is sown within it, but so is the Word of Satan, which is heresy. Within the Church there is real fruit of righteousness. There is holiness. In fact, the image we get of the meadow is not that it is mainly tares. It is still worth harvesting, so the predominant crop is obviously wheat. So, too, of the Church. But, it is a mixed thing. 

And what does the parable says is to be done about this? The farmer says, “Let both grow together until the harvest.” Seemingly nothing. Does the farmer tell the servants to do anything about the tares in the field? He doesn’t. And this is not decided out of indifference toward the situation. It is decided out of tender concern for the wheat. “Lest any of the wheat be rooted up in the purge.” 

What does this parable teach us about Jesus, because isn’t that the point of Epiphany? It shows us that in addition to being the King of Wisdom, Lord of Gifts, Giver of Wine, and Taker of Shame, He is also Patient Judge. He is tender and kind. Think about how tender and kind and patient Jesus is. Isn’t a king judged by the merits of His Kingdom? Do we not judge mayors by the crime rates within their cities, governors by the quality of the schools within their state, and presidents by the gas prices? That one always puzzled me…Of all the things to complain about in our country. “These gas prices!” 

But think about this. Jesus could have been so concerned for His kingly reputation that He would have insisted on the purity of His Church, even if it had a little bit of collateral damage, some friendly fire. Did He not have every earthly precedent for this? The Pharisees were notorious for being hyper-vigilant about who would make it into their ranks, their pure field. Yet, Jesus is willing to endure shame, not only on the Cross, but for all of the Church’s history, for our sakes. “Let them grow up together. Let them alone. I don’t mind if the other farmers gossip about me that I don’t know how to sow good seed in my field. Let other kings despise my kingdom. I will endure shame and criticism for the sake of my people. They are more important than my reputation.” That’s who Jesus is. He is Patient. Humble. Tender. Kind. He is perfectly just. He is perfectly Holy. His wrath is stored up for the wicked, He will burn the prideful, the unbelieving will be thrown in the fire. Yet Jesus is long-suffering. So merciful. 

We’ve seen what the parable means: The Church is mixed. We’ve seen what we are to do about it: Seemingly nothing. We’ve seen what this shows about Jesus: He is Patient. But, why is He Patient? Why the delay? He has given a time of clemency so that three things can happen. First, He waits to judge so that the fruits of righteousness will have time to grow in His Church. He gives time so that the seeds planted in the Incarnation would have their intended effect, that our wills and beings would not only be saved from the wages of Death, but saved for the fruition of Everlasting Life. Second, He defers Judgment until later so that there is sufficient time for the Lost to repent. And third, He is Patient so that there is no excuse when He returns and judges mankind. 

This parable is so important for us to hear. There are thousands upon thousands of denominations. Sometimes schism is legitimate, but very rarely. Most of the time, it is due to an overzealousness for immediate purity. God’s people have not learned the Patience of their King and Judge. I say this as a priest within the REC and the ACNA. I obviously think schism is right in some cases. Yet, the warnings from this parable still hold true for any and all who separate the wheat from the tares, whether rightly or wrongly. True wheat will be torn up in the process along with the tares. Perhaps more damaging is that the servants of the farmer develop a fixation on purity that continues to injure souls. This is always the case when Schism and Reformation are necessary. It is always injurious to the Faithful, the wheat, and the Servants. 

How the act of purging the Church damages the souls of Christians is how our Gospel connects to our Epistle. The Farmer tells them to let the field be, but this does not mean that they are to do nothing. Our Epistle shows what this time of clemency is to be filled with Charity. “PUT on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering; 13 forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye. 14 And above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness. 15 And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body; and be ye thankful.”

This is what it looks like for the people of God to imitate Jesus, Patient Judge. We are to be busy, not in searching out one another’s faults, not in pondering whether or not so-in-so is a true believer, not in fighting this-or-that theological or political battle within the Church, not in learning all the classifications of doctrine and developing our opinions about which ones are more wheaty and which ones are more tarey. We are not to put on our harvesting boots and take hold of our scythe. St. Paul says we are to put on charity, to take up mercy, to be long-suffering, to have humility over zeal, because the Church is mixed. 

But here is the real kicker…so are we. And with this I close. We have a further reason to be merciful and patient and tender. For we are like that meadow. We are mixed. We have growing within us both good and bad. When Christ returns, will we not, too, be purged of all that is not holy? And, yet God looks on us with such tenderness and mercy. 

We have before us today a perfect illustration. For just as we are like the Meadow, we have our own Meadow. And this morning she had the Good Seed cast over her. Today, we took hold of the Promise of God that the Word of God would take root in her tiny heart and would bring forth a crop of righteousness. And, yet, the Meadow of Meadow’s heart is mixed. Who among us does not wish Meadow every success in her life with God? Who among us would so fixate upon tearing out every root of sin within her, if it meant that her soul would be irreparably damaged in the process? Let our feelings toward Meadow be a guide to our feelings toward the Meadow of the Church. Though Meadow be mixed, she is beautiful. Though she is a daughter of Eve, though even after being washed she still retains the nature of sin within her, though she will struggle in this life, she is also a daughter of the Church. She carries within her the presence of the Holy Spirit, the seed of Life. We are confident that she will overcome the World, the Flesh, and the Devil through Christ who strengthens her. And, so we have mercy toward her. We love her. We rejoice over her. We sing to her psalms and spiritual songs. 

Beloved, be the same toward the Church. Be the same toward your Christian neighbor. Be the same toward one another. For the Meadow of the Kingdom is mixed, too, yet for your sake and the sake of redemption of the World, the merciful Love of God shines upon it all. Amen.

Sermon for the 4th Sunday after Epiphany, 2022

This week, my kids and I started to watch the old animated Batman series. In one of the episodes, Dr. Hugo Strange develops a machine that can turn people’s memories into videos, and he disguises himself as a psychotherapist and retreat director. Dr. Strange would talk to his patient’s about the moment in their past that brought them the most shame, and using his machine would record their memories. Later, he’d blackmail them with the video tape. Eventually, he even discovers Batman’s secret identity and tries to action off the video tape as indisputable proof to the Penguin, the Joker, and Two-Face.

It was a deep episode, because it illustrated how everyone is driven by shame in some sense or another. Oftentimes, as in the case of Judge Vargas, it was over something that she’d done as a child. Or perhaps, as with Bruce Wayne, the shame comes from not being able to stop something from happening. For others, the shame comes from an unshakeable sense that they are not enough, and every day offers new morsels to feed that monster. For some, like Bruce Wayne, it leads to a lonely, tortured life of revenge and vigilanteism. For others, a life of fear and anxiety. For others, depression or hate or destruction. These deep wounds in our soul can determine so much about our short lives. Shame.

This is the fourth week in an Epiphany sermon series. Week by week, we’ve been asking of the Gospel passages, “Who is Jesus? How is He being manifest to the World? What does it mean? What does it mean for you? And what does it mean for us at CTK? On the 1st Sunday of Epiphany, the Gospel passage showed us the boy Jesus in the Temple, the New Solomon. Jesus is the King of Wisdom and the Church is called to be a Temple where the nations seek Wisdom and that we are to be a wise people. On the 2nd Sunday in Epiphany, we saw Jesus anointed as the Davidic King, and we live in His monarchy. Jesus is the King of Gifts, and we serve Him within the gifting that He grants us. On the 3rd Sunday, we saw Jesus at the Wedding of Cana. Jesus is the Giver of Wine who adds delight to duty and who delights in the New Creation that He is making even now. This week, our Gospel reading shows Jesus healing a leper and the servant of a centurion, two men who acknowledge their uncleanness and their unworthiness before God. Yet, Jesus touches the leper, and offers to go into the Centurion’s house. As I hope to show, in this week of Epiphany, we see Jesus, Taker of Shame.

Shame is huge problem in the Church, and even more so in the World. We don’t often talk about shame. I wonder why… We will just scratch the surface today, but I’ll preface our examination of Scripture by saying that shame is in the background of most of our interactions, and that there is hardly anything more freeing than God taking away our shame.

First, our focus will be on understanding what’s going on in Matthew 8 with the healing of the leper and the centurion’s servant. Then, we’ll zoom out and look briefly at some of the requirements for cleanness in the Law, and then we’ll zoom out again to see how all of this finds its beginning in Adam and Eve. Only then will we see how the One who makes men clean is Jesus, Taker of Shame.

Our Gospel has two healings, back to back. First, Jesus is approached by a leper who says, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” Jesus says, “I am willing.” He touches the leper, and the leper is healed. Then, a centurion of the Roman army approaches Jesus and asks Him to heal one of his servants dying at the centurion’s house. Jesus agrees to go into the centurion’s house. Long story short, Jesus heals the servant. In both cases, the laws of clean and unclean are very much at play here. Both the leper and the centurion would have been considered unclean, meaning that Jesus, a Jew, would not be allowed to touch or be in the same house as them. The leper was unclean because of the disease that infected his skin. The centurion was unclean because he was a Gentile. They were unclean, and that meant distance between these two men and Jesus.

Let’s zoom out to see what the laws for Clean and Unclean were for. God instituted these requirements in the Mosaic Law. They displayed the Holiness of God to Israel and to the World. God is separate, holy. He was not to be equated with the political power-plays of nations, nor the gluttonous desires of men, nor the effects of evil upon society and the human body. Mankind was quick to make gods in their own image, but God was holy, separate. Mankind could not approach Him how he wanted, but how God prescribed. To presume or encroach would be to ignore the breach between man and God made at the Garden of Eden. In order to understand the origins of the laws of Clean and Unclean, we have to go back to Eden, the origin of Our Shame.

In the beginning, man had no boundary between him and God. But after sin, man’s nature was sullied in every part. Nothing was left untouched. His body, mind, progeny. And most importantly, His heart. The most immediate effect was a sense of distance and unworthiness between Adam and Eve. The Scriptures call that feeling shame. It didn’t just apply to man and wife. That same distance and unworthiness infected the relationship between humans and God. And it wasn’t just imagined, either. There actually was distance and unworthiness between man, woman, and God.

Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden and an angel with flaming swords was placed to keep them out. Ever since, every person carries within himself or herself a deep abiding shame, a feeling of unworthiness. And just like with Adam and Eve, this isn’t just an imagined construct. We have reason for shame; we are unworthy; we are distant from God by virtue of our fallen nature and because of are deeds. Mankind is unclean.

The Laws of Clean and Unclean were simply a way of structuring that Shame and Unworthiness. God let the tension sit for quite some time. On the one hand, mankind was unworthy to come into His presence because of their sin and the effects of their sin upon their humanity. On the other hand, God still invited them into His presence.

Going back to the Leper and the Centurion, what do we learn from them? We learn that Uncleanness and Shame is a universal problem. These two men are emblematic of the ends of a few spectrums. We see in them that Original Shame, which is the root of Uncleanness, affects the poor and the rich. Shame afflicts those whose uncleanness is obvious to all, like the Leper, and those whose uncleanness is not obvious. Centurions were powerful men, not only politically but also physically. Height and strength mattered a great deal in the Roman army. Centurions were big, beautiful, powerful, wealthy men. Yet in his own words, this man was unworthy that Jesus should come under his roof. Shame is in the Repulsive and the Attractive. There is no one that is immune to it.

And through this story, we also learn that Jesus came to release the tension. He brings in the leper outside the camp. He brings back together the Jew and the Gentile. He removes the angel from the walls of Eden. Jesus, Taker of Shame. The Gospel teaches us that Jesus is takes away their shame, healing their nature, and renewing fellowship. But He does this for those that ask of Him. He does not manifest that there is nothing to be ashamed about. As St. Paul says in Ephesians 5:12, “For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret.” But for those who come to Him in Faith and Humility, to them He does make clean.

What does this mean for you? That is something for you to discern this week. Some need to acknowledge their shame, uncleanness, and unworthiness. Neither the leper or the centurion saw themselves as worthy of God, but asked if Jesus would be willing to make them worthy. This is very important for leading a Christian life. A Christian is always ready to acknowledge their own unworthiness. This is the reason why we begin each morning with the opening sentences from the Prayer Book. “Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities.” “I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.” The moment between Jesus and the Leper is a perpetual emblem of our place within the Kingdom. We were unworthy, and we dirty ourselves everyday, yet God has made us worthy. He takes away our shame!

Some need to accept God’s healing. It is common for people to hold onto their shame, and to turn it into indignation. There can be deep resentment that they are not acceptable on their own. We see this seething pride in Cain. He couldn’t stand that God wouldn’t accept him, even when God came to him gently.

Some doubt the validity of God’s power to make them clean. This one is very common. People continue to live in shame. Do you ever feel an unexplainable distance between your soul and God. A lack of desire to go to God in prayer? A mysterious resistance to intimacy with Him? Consider if there has been a time when Christ said to you, “I forgive you. I am willing. I make you clean,” and you did not accept it, and therefore live in continual shame, pressed deep down so that it doesn’t feel like shame. It just feels numb. This is why spiritual direction is so important, to bring these things back up and to readdress them. What shame does Jesus still need to take away from you?

And, finally, we must ask what it means for CTK that Jesus is the Taker of Shame. There is much here, and there is only time for one thing. We have the Good News that Jesus is the Taker of Shame! We need to share it! We learn from the Leper and the Centurion that everyone is unclean. Everyone carries within them the deep, abiding shame of their humanity. For some, it is obvious to them and others. For others, it is hidden from others and possibly, over time, even hidden from the person themselves. Yet it is always there, and it is the seed of an eternal hell. For if distance from God is the everlasting punishment of the heathen, then the curse of uncleanness is its foretaste. What would keep us from freeing them from misery in this life and the next? Do we forget that we, too, were unclean? Covered in shame? Unable to approach God? Do we forget that they are still? Are we afraid that they will ridicule us? They might. Shame protects itself against any that expose it. Yet, Jesus is the Taker of Shame!

CTK, I long for us to be a church that deeply understands the forgiveness and healing that we have through Jesus, Taker of Shame. Can’t you see how powerful a witness that would be to a world drowning in shame, and drowning out their shame? To be saturate in the dynamics of our approach to God: our own unworthiness and the immensity of His love and compassion towards us. This is why Daily Morning Prayer is so important. We renew our healing, and remove our shame. We make the cry of our heart, “Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean,” so that the World can hear Jesus, Taker of Shame, say clearly, “I will; be thou clean.” Amen.

Homily for the 3rd Sunday after Epiphany, 2022

Homily for Epiphany 3, 2022

Fr. Tony Melton @ CTK

Jesus, Giver of Wine

Who can tell me what season of the Church we are in? [Epiphany] That’s right! During Epiphany, we celebrate that Jesus is the Savior of the whole world. Each week of Epiphany teaches us something different about who Jesus is. The first week we learned that Jesus is like Wise King Solomon, except that Jesus is even wiser and greater. Jesus is the King of Wisdom. Say King of Wisdom. The next week, we learned that Jesus is the Giver of Gifts and we serve Him as our King. You might think of the Chronicles of Narnia in The Last Battle, when Aslan and Father Christmas give Peter a sword, Lucy a vile of healing cordial and a dagger, and so on. Jesus is the Gift-Gifting King whom we serve.

This week, we see a different picture of Jesus, and it is a bit surprising. To begin, I wanted to show you a picture that a local artist recently donated to the church. What is it? [Wine] Is it a bit of wine, or a lotta bit of wine? [A lotta bit] Raise your hand if you like the taste of wine. You might not like the taste of it, but you likely will when you are older. Wine is considered to be one of the best things on earth. Adults drink wine when there is something to be happy about, like when we get together with good friends, or celebrating a birthday. Wine can make a person feel happy, and even a little bit silly. (Too much and it will make you sad and sick, but in the right amount wine is a good thing.)

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus is at a wedding. Just like nowadays, weddings back then had lots of dancing, good food, and lots of…[wine]. It was the job of the hosts of the wedding to have enough wine, but at this wedding in Cana of Galilee, the hosts of the wedding ran out. This was not good. So they came to Mary and asked what to do and she came to Jesus. Long story short, Jesus saved the day when He turned water into wine. And He didn’t just make a little bit of wine, He filled six stone vases. Each vase held about 25 gallons of water. So all in all, Jesus made about 750 bottles of wine, which is about 3,750 glasses of wine. You might ask Mr. James and Mrs. Chloe O’Rourke how many bottles they had at their wedding a few weeks ago. It was a lot of wine, but I don’t think it was 750 bottles of it! And so we have the next picture of Jesus in this season of Epiphany. Who is the Savior of the World? He is Jesus, Giver of Wine.

When I was about 8 or 9 years old, I was really silly. Sometimes I would pretend that I was a Power Ranger and fight off all the bad guys. During recess, my friend Jimmy and I would pretend that we were The Beatles and would bob our heads while we would sing their songs. I would perfect my funny faces in the mirror. And I would laugh uncontrollably whenever someone would toot.

What do you think it means that Jesus is the Giver of Wine? Some people think that God is up in the sky looking down with His arms crossed, His eyebrows furrowed, His head shaking ever so slightly, exhaling through His nostrils. You might think that He is really pleased with you when are very serious and still and solemn and sober. But are people that drink wine very serious and still and solemn and sober? [No] And what did Jesus do when they ran out of wine? [He gave them more wine.]

You see, God looks down on the people that He made and He loves us. He delights in us. Say, “God delights in me.” [God delights in me.] There are things that you do that make God laugh and smile. You should not be ashamed when you are silly. God is not scowling at you when you play. He is the Giver of Wine, and He loves to see His children make merry and be happy. Now, when we are having fun and being silly, does God still expect us to obey our parents? [Yes] Does He want us to treat others with kindness and respect? [Yes] Does He smile when we say things that we know are wrong? [No] But does He want us to be always very serious and still and solemn and sober? [No] Jesus is the Giver of…[Wine]. The Joy of the Whole Earth, the Joy of Man’s Desiring. Amen.

[to the adults]

As I mentioned last week, Jesus is the New Creation. You might remember that I drew a parallel between the Baptism of Jesus and the story of Noah, namely that both Jesus and the Dry Land emerged from the Water. Both Jesus and the Dry Land had the Divine approval spoken of them. And both Jesus and the Dry Land had a dove land upon them. The message is obvious: Jesus is the New Creation. The parallels between Jesus and Noah go further. One of the first things that Noah did was to plant a vineyard and make some wine, and the first miracle of Jesus after His Baptism is to make wine. But it is here that the parallel stops because Noah became drunk and cursed one of his own sons. And yet, Jesus is the Giver of Wine.

In the Old Testament, the giving of Wine was a key marker that the favor of the Lord had returned to Israel and the world. Instead of exile and famine, God would give Wine. Wine was a sign that God was remaking the world and putting all things to right.

But I want to push past the parallels in Scripture, what we call typology, interesting though it may be. The fact that God chose Wine as a sign of His New Creation, what is the significance of that? You might remember from the story of the Wedding at Cana that Jesus that the water came from huge stone jars that held water for the Jewish purification rites. This is significant. By bringing Wine to the Earth, Jesus was changing the relationship between us and God. This was a sign that He was making a New Covenant with His New Creation. The Old Covenant, represented by Purification Water, was being transformed into the New Covenant, represented by Choice Wine. Mankind would no longer have to fixate constantly on making sure that they are clean, washing themselves several times a day with water. No. The sign of the New Covenant is Wine, which ironically is even more purifying than water and yet its function is not for purification but for delight.

The New Covenant adds delight to duty, and Jesus the Giver of Wine manifests that God delights in the New Creation, too. We delight in God, and we delight in Life, and God delights in us. He smiles at us in our humanity. He laughs when we are silly. And we are to smile and laugh in fulfilling His Will. At the Wedding at Cana, Jesus transforms the Old Covenant into a Religion of Delight. This is why I’ve said many times that Christians should throw the best parties, and we invest as a mission into partying well. It is not simply because we love good food, good wine, laughing and dancing. It is primarily because our mission is to radiate King Jesus, and we learn in today’s Gospel that for 2,000 years the Church has learned who He is and what He means by gazing at the miracle at Cana and seeing that our Savior throws the best parties; that the holy life is not a joyless life; there is no power in being dower. When we perform our duties as a unwanted burden instead of the joy of a dance, we forget that the sign of our Covenant is choice Wine. And when we fixate on avoiding flaws, staying clean, walking the line, we forget that Jesus gave 18 firkins of wine to the people of Cana. 18 firkins, people!

What does this mean for you that Jesus is the Giver of Wine? I’m not sure, but it is something I hope you ponder this week. Perhaps you need to hear that God loves to see you filled to the brim with joy. Like this painting here. “My cup runneth over.” Perhaps this means you need to repent of a spirit of gloom, or false-shame, or unforgiveness, or frustration, or bitterness, or sloth. What is stealing your joy? Let it go. The Stonehaven School has this call and response. Children, don’t leave me hanging up here. Ready? Really loud now. CHOOSE…[JOY!] Listen to the kiddos. You’ve got to choose it, because Jesus the Giver of Wine has given it. To not take up Joy and live within it is like sitting cranky in the corner at a wedding.

What does this mean for our church? That’s more simple. If we are to radiate the Truth, Goodness, and Beauty of King Jesus, then we must remember the Wedding at Cana. We must remember that ours is a Religion of Delight. We delight to do God service. We delight to sing His praises. We know the delight He has for us. We delight in one another. We delight in the gifts that God has given to us. We delight in our children. We delight in the aged. We delight in the young men. We delight in the young women. We delight it in the stranger. We delight in the troubled. We delight in good food and good wine. We delight in worshipping outside. We delight in worshipping inside. There is so little delight in the world, and if we have a culture of delight, people will know that Jesus is there, and they will run to His banquet, and be His forever. Amen.

Homily for the 2nd Sunday after Epiphany, 2022

Homily for Epiphany 2, 2022

Fr. Tony Melton

Christ the King Anglican

"Serve the King”

This is the second sermon in a series walking through the Gospel reading in Epiphanytide. The central question in this series is, “If in Epiphany we celebrate that Jesus is manifest to the world, what do the Gospel readings teach us about Jesus. What exactly about Jesus is made manifest? Who is He? And what does this show us about the Church?”

Last week, the Gospel reading was about the boy Jesus sitting in the Temple, amazing the priests and scribes with His Wisdom. He was presented as the New Solomon, Wisdom Incarnate, Maker of the World, King of Israel. Jesus as King is continued in today’s Gospel reading. Today, we have the Baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist, where God the Father declares Jesus to be His Beloved Son, and sends the Holy Spirit to rest upon Him as a dove. First, we will ask what this event says about Jesus. Then, we will ask what it means for us.

Let’s go over the facts of the story. John is baptizing in the Jordan. Jesus comes to John to be baptized. And the text says in Mark 1, “And straightway Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit, like a dove, descending upon him, and there came a voice from heaven, saying, ‘Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” There are two major themes here. The first is creation language from Genesis. The second is coronation language from the Psalms. First, creation language. Listen carefully to what Mark is getting at. What else emerged from the water, had the Spirit descend and hover over it, and had divine approval spoken over it? The first creation. Where else did we see something emerge from the waters, God display His favor over it, and then had a dove come to rest on it? Noah. In fact, if you remember, Noah sent a second dove that never returned. That dove’s task was to go find the New World, the New Creation. And we don’t see that dove again until it comes to rest upon Jesus, the New Creation. So we have in this Gospel reading, very clearly, that Jesus is the New Creation.

Looking at the story from a different lens, we see another emphasis jump out. We have the Spirit poured out upon Jesus, and then God says, “Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” Now to us, we read this and we think, “Right, Jesus is the 2nd person of the Trinity, i.e. the “Son”. Obviously the Father is pleased with His Son, because…He’s God…they’re of the same essence. That’s neat. But there is a lot more going on here, and the Old Testament believer who didn’t know about the Trinity would have definitely picked up on it. They would have known that the Messianic King would be an “anointed Son upon whom God’s favor rested.” A good place to see this is Psalm 2.

The Psalmist ponders, “Why do the heathen so furiously rage together? The kings of the earth stand up, and the rulers take counsel together * against the LORD, and against his Anointed: He that dwelleth in heaven shall laugh them to scorn: saying, ‘Yet have I set my King * upon my holy hill of Sion.’”

Then the Son speaks, “I will rehearse the decree; the LORD hath said unto me, ‘Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee. Desire of me, and I shall give thee the nations for thine inheritance.”
Then the psalmist speaks to the world, Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and so ye perish from the right way, if his wrath be kindled, yea but a little. * Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.

The Jews were waiting on the Beloved Son, and they should have known that the Baptism of Jesus was God’s way of telling them that Jesus is the promised King…of the New Creation. Now we must ask what this means for the Church. Today, we will focus more on the King aspect, and we’ll save the New Creation emphasis for next week when Jesus brings the New Wine of the New Creation. Today’s emphasis is, broadly speaking, political. I hear a lot, “Keep politics out of the pulpit!” Well, this is a political sermon. Jesus is king, and we live in a kingdom. Politics. How, then, shall we live?

The Middle Ages was the era of kings, and, as you know, kings claimed their power by divine right. The Modern age is the era of either the Republic or the Dictatorship, which have something in common that distinguishes them from divine right kingship. Power in a Republic and in a Dictatorship comes from people, not directly from God. In the case of the Republic, power is given by the people through elections and layers of representation. In a Dictatorship, power is often taken by a group of people. But in a Divine Right Kingdom, power is supposedly granted by God directly, and so the political structure that emerged in the Middle Ages was called feudal.

Before we progress any further. Two disclaimers. I’m not saying that ancient kings actually had an exclusive and direct divine right to be the king. I’m also not saying that this was a great way to govern, or had consistently great effects. The only thing that should be said in connection with our Gospel reading is that Christian nations were trying to map a political structure they saw clearly in Kingdom of God onto their Christian nation. That sounds logical, doesn’t it? And what did they see in Kingdom of God? They saw what our Collect speaks of today, that King Jesus governs all things in heaven and earth. He owns all things. And therefore everything in His Kingdom is given by grant. It is like we say in the Liturgy: “All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.”

The idea that Jesus is King and that He governs His Kingdom through grants and gifts is common in the Scriptures. Actually, the Men’s Fellowship discussed this idea while studying Ephesians 4 yesterday morning. Jesus the conquering King “led captivity captive and gave gifts unto His people.” The crucial point is that the Church functions very much like a feudal system. The problem with the Middle Ages was that they tried to map the politics of the Church, which is indwelled and preserved by the Holy Spirit, onto the nation-state, which is not. But Modern Christians have the opposite problem. We map secular models of government, either the Republic or the Dictatorship, back onto the Church, as if the Church is not the physical manifestation of the Kingdom of God. And this misunderstanding of Jesus as King and the Church as Kingdom hurts our mission and steals our peace.

Our Propers this morning very clearly draw our attention to this political dynamic within the Church when they move from Jesus as the Anointed King in the Gospel, who “governs all things in heaven and earth” in the Collect, and then in the Epistle moves directly into the giving of gifts. Listen: “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them. If prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.” I hope that you forever connect spiritual gifts and ministry roles with feudalism with the Baptism of Jesus.

For application, the rubber meets the road in how we conceive of authority. You don’t have to raise your hand, but have you ever seen the nastiness of when factions in a church vie for power and authority? If we conceive of the Church as a secular thing, run through representation, with power either taken by people, or given by them exclusively by the people, then the only lens with which we can see our individual role within the Church is through the lens of power, or authority. In this type of church polity, the focus of our Christian duty is forever on our vote, or our appeal, or our opinion about this or that decision or leader or doctrine. Our conversations fixate on the problems and conflicts within the Church because within that church polity, like in a Republic, everyone has the authority. So there is always fighting, because every problem is everyone’s problem.

But it is not so in the Kingdom of God; it is not to be so in the Church. Jesus, the Beloved Son, the Anointed King of the New Creation, governs all things in heaven and earth, and to each He has granted gifts, and roles, and ministry. Some to preach, some to serve, some to give, some to lead. And each person ought to function within that kingly grant with humility, gratitude, and service.

Back in Dallas, I was a part of a small group of young priest. We would get together once a month with our wives, pray for each other, eat good food. Inevitably the men would start talking church politics. “I can’t believe that bishop did that.” “I think that the Church should do this.” Yadda-yadda-yadda. I was a part of it, too. And one of my friends, a fellow priest, spoke up one night and said, “Well, well, well, don’t you all sound like a bunch of bishops!?” What was he saying? He was reminding us that Jesus is King, and Jesus is in control, and Jesus has granted differing gifts to diverse people for different purposes. To me and my brother priests, he has called us to pastor of parishes. Our work is the Cure of Souls at a local level. To the bishops, Jesus has granted the terrible burden of sorting out the problems of the Church at large, for defending against heresy. The men around my table were not only acting like bishops, they were acting like Senators. But the Church is not a Republic, it is a Kingdom. When we forget that, we lose our peace. We become embittered voters rather than joyful servants.

Now, the Church is not perfect. Everyone can see that. Yet, it is not secular either. It is filled with the Spirit of God. When things go awry, there are ways to set it back on course. But the general posture of every Christian is to receive their place and gifting and to serve in that place and gifting for the glory of God. The truth about Jesus is that He is King. The truth about us is that we are His servants who serve in our roles. We are not to focus on our own position or influence, but on God and Neighbor. Listen to where St. Paul takes the idea that we all serve in our different lanes, and how this idea of humble service creates a servant’s heart and an “other’s focus".

“Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honour preferring one another; Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord; Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer; Distributing to the necessity of saints; given to hospitality. Bless them which persecute you: bless, and curse not. Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep. Be of the same mind one toward another. Mind not high things, but associate with men of low estate. Others focused. Joyful service.

CTK, we have had the blessing of peace, have we not? Some have said that this is a natural honeymoon stage for a church plant, and that is surely part of it. But I think the spiritual dynamic here is that, by God’s grace, you have a hunger for the Kingdom of God and a focus on mission. I see in you a trust in Christ that allows you to trust those who have the ministry of leadership. You have an "others focus”, a mission focus, a servant’s heart. You are not consumed with how much authority you have, but on how you can best serve our King in the place that He gives. Let us always be at peace in the service of our King, and always keep in our mind the last verse of our Psalm this morning, “The Lord remains a King forever, and He shall give strength unto his people; the Lord shall give his people the blessing of peace.” Amen.

Homily for the 1st Sunday after Epiphany, 2022

Homily for 1st Epiphany, 2022

Fr. Tony Melton

Christ the King Anglican

This is an exciting Sunday. There have been several times in my life where the Psalms voiced the cry of my heart, but this morning’s nailed it. “I was glad when they said unto me, ‘We will go into the house of the Lord.’

This whole week has been electric. I’ve seen the Stonehaven teachers and students smile from ear to ear every morning when they walk in to their building. I’ve caught Brett doing fist pumps like Napoleon Dynamite when he thought no one is looking. I’m not ashamed that I’ve been giddy setting up my office, and saying Morning Prayer in our space in the mornings.

Both the Stonehaven School and Christ the King have awaited this day for a long time. To have a home. To have our own home. Something you can invest in as an offering to God and a testimony to your neighbor about what you stand for. A place where memories, sentiments, and habits find their roots.

But more than once this week, I have been warned by friends and acquaintances to “Watch out, getting a building is a trap.” In each of these cases, the warning came from someone coming from a Baptist or non-denom background, which doesn’t mean that I didn’t listen to them. I love my Baptist friends. The non-denom church preached me the Gospel and taught me the Bible. But it was valuable context for assessing the warnings I received this week. Growing up non-denom, I heard this a lot. “Buildings kill culture. Beware.” Have any of you heard this idea before?

Well, I’m sure you can understand why I’ve been cogitating on it this week. What will this next step in the life of this church plant mean for Christ the King? Will this building kill our culture? And into the midst of these ponderings and apprehensions came the passages for this Sunday. “I was glad when they said unto me, ‘Let us go into the house of the Lord.’” So this morning, I wanted to speak to that first. I want to explain how the people of God are to relate to “place” and “temple” so that we can understand this entrance into our place and temple within the light of the Scriptures. Following that, I’ll connect this Sunday for CTK to the 1st Sunday after Epiphany, and specifically the Gospel reading for this morning of Jesus getting lost at the Temple.

Okay, first, how are biblical Christians supposed to relate to places of worship? You see, within the traditions of the Church there is a difference in how we see sacred space and its purpose and value. You can see the difference when you drive through cities. There are the old cathedrals and there are Evangelical Churches. There are Sanctuaries and there are Worship Centers or auditoriums. Within these churches, the two sides talk past each other with little sympathy. The Catholic Christians press their noses against the stained glass, looking at the Non-Denom Christians, making their noses point even higher, and think, “They simply lack taste. There is no aesthetic.” And the non-denomers peak through their ship-lap backdrop and think, “They are just idolatrous”, forgetful that the idea they are voicing comes from Judas Iscariot, they ask, “Couldn’t this have been sold and the proceeds given to the poor?”

There are at least two theological differences undergirding the two ways of thinking about church buildings. The first and primary difference is about the nature of Christ’s presence with us here and now. Wasn’t this the substance of Jesus’ rebuke to Judas Iscariot? He said, “What a waste! Think of all the mission we could do instead!” And Jesus responded by reasoning that she had done this because He was present with her right then. Therefore, you can see the connection that for those who believe that Christ is present sacramentally, it would mean that we are more inclined to lavish gifts upon Him and to invest in the temporal beauty of our worship, just like when Mary of Bethany poured the spikenard on Jesus’ feet. Does that make sense?

The second difference is definitely a corollary to the first. There is a difference of understanding how the New Testament relates to the Old Testament. How does the Church relate to Israel. Even more particular, how does the church building relate to the Temple? And even more particular, how does a human being who worships the God of the whole universe relate to that God within the created world? Is worship to be immaterial, placeless, ugly? Or is it to be material, local, and beautiful?

The truth of it is, there are times when God calls His people to go through a season of placelessness. Abraham’s journey from Ur to Canaan, Moses and the Wilderness Wanderings, David fleeing Saul, the Ark of the Covenant dwelling in tents, even the tent of Obed-Edom for a time. Exile into the land of Babylon and Assyria. Placelessness. We saw how God used these times to shape His people. He uses it to make them tough, to be focused on mission and obedience. We ourselves have gone through this season. 21 and 1/2 months we were like the Israelites, setting up and tearing down camp every week. Worshipping outside in the heat and in the cold. It shaped us, and it was God’s will that we should be so shaped.

But in each of these biblical examples of placelessness, they always resolved in a return to an embodied, secure place. “God, we long to build you a house so we can live near you.” And God looks on this desire as good. Perhaps the best example of this is found in the story of the Solomon’s Temple. Solomon desired to build a house for the Lord that the nations of the earth would know the True God and come and worship Him. He made this building a wonder of the world. He spared no expense! And God looked down on this building that Solomon had made. Imagine being a spectator on that day when the Temple was dedicated. You’ve got Babel in the back of your mind. “I don’t know…God doesn’t always like it when we build big buildings…” But then the Glory Cloud entered the Temple and the cloud was so thick that the priests had to leave the building! Think about this story. Does it not reflect a willingness of God to dwell locally with us? Our God looks kindly on Solomon who says, “I have built a house for you to live in.” He deigns to fill it with His presence.

So this week, I’ve smiled graciously a couple of times when told, “Beware.” In a sense, they are not wrong. Buildings can lead to a hyper-localism and an idolatry. Look at the Jews before the Exile. Look at the Sadducees. There are, no doubt, blessings in the Wilderness and dangers in the Temple. But we can also say unequivocally, “I was glad when they said unto me, ‘We will go into the house of the Lord.’ For the Lord is present with us. He knows we thrive when we have home, and He meets us there.

This would have been a great point to wrap up this homily, but there is a problem. This is the first homily in a 5-week sermon series where I plan on preaching through the Gospel readings for the season of Epiphany. If Epiphany celebrates that the Mystery of the Gospel is revealed to all mankind, the Gospels in Epiphany explain the mystery. And here is the problem. I haven’t mentioned the Gospel passage yet. So if you’ll hang with me a few more minutes, I think the Lord has given us a pretty cool connection between our first Sunday back in our space and the 1st Sunday after Epiphany.

Thusfar, we’ve focused exclusively on Psalm 122 verse 1, “I was glad when they said unto me, ‘We will go into the house of the Lord.’ But verse 5 of Psalm 122 continues, “For there is the seat of judgment, even the seat of the house of David.” This word “judgment” is speaking about legal or tactical decision. It has deep resonance with the word “Wisdom.” It is saying that we can be glad when we go to the house of God because that is where the Son of David sits and issues wise judgment. I’ve tried to show how this Sunday of entering our sanctuary aligns with Solomon dedicating the Temple. What is so amazing is that in God’s Providence this theme perfectly overlaps with our Gospel reading for this 1st Sunday in Epiphany.

Our Gospel is from Luke 2 when Jesus gets left behind at the Temple, and His parents find him sitting at the Temple, questioning and teaching the elders, amazing all with His Wisdom. As I pointed out last year on Epiphany 1, Luke is very clearly mapping the silhouette of King Solomon onto the person and work of Jesus. Jesus is the New Solomon who sits in the Temple, at the seat of Judgment.

What does this have to do with Epiphany? We learn on this 1st Sunday after Epiphany that Jesus is the New Solomon, King of Wisdom, who sits at The Temple and bids the nations to come and learn from Him the paths of Life. The reputation of Solomon went out to all the world. The Queen of Sheba came to learn from Him. But as Jesus says in the Gospel of Matthew, “A greater than Solomon is here.”

Church, we worship the King of Wisdom, the only-wise God. This is good news to the world because the world is filled with foolishness. The heathen languish in folly. They want no teachers of Truth, even though the Teacher of Truth is manifest to the World, obvious to the World.

I began this homily by drawing a connection between the houses of the Lord and the presence of the Lord so that we can we can be glad when we enter into our place. But to this, I want to attach the emphasis of the Gospel reading. There is a connection between the houses of the Lord, the presence of the Lord, and the seat of Wisdom of King Jesus the New Solomon. In other words, every church where Christ is present is to be a “seat of right judgment” where the Wise King teaches the nations the Way of Life. And every church building is a part of the Great Epiphany of Jesus, the King of Wisdom. Our neighbors should be able to come in and sit down and sense the Spirit of the Child Jesus as He spoke with the elders, the Spirit of the New Solomon as He weighs competing claims and issues right judgment. Our church building is to be an emblem of the presence of the only-wise God.

This is a high calling, and one that should give us momentary trepidation. 2020 and 2021 revealed a problem in the Church. We have lost sight of this aspect of Christ’s Epiphany that we are to manifest the Wisdom of King Jesus to the surrounding world. By and large, Christians were shown to be fools, and not like St. Paul talks of “fools for Christ”, but actual fools. The vast majority of churches forgot that God’s people have been gathering in the face of great personal risk for centuries. We were tricked into thinking that our breathe of life was more essential than the Bread of Life. We were also tricked into believing lies and theories from all sides. There was a rashness to reactions in many, many parts of the Church, on a host of issues. We forgot that those in power profit from our constant outrage, and many were fools for being led along.

We worship King Jesus, the New Solomon. Our church building is an instance of His Temple where He sits, giving Wisdom to all who come. We share in this vocation. We are called to be wise, discerning, knowing the Truth, detecting lies, testing claims, slow to judge, but firm in what is clear and right. This vocation naturally puts us into the posture of prayer, for who feels sufficient to be an extension of King Jesus and the Wisdom he gives to the world through His Church? You can see why the ancient Collect or prayer for this Sunday, where we contemplate Jesus as the New Solomon reads like this, “Grant that they may both perceive and know what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to fulfill the same.” We pray for wisdom that we might manifest the wisdom of King Jesus in this city, in this neighborhood, in this building.

Yet this sense of inadequacy should in no way steal our joy. We are mere image-bearers of God, and this building is a mere image-bearer of the heavenly Temple. We are a hint, a pointer to the full reality. Whenever we fail, we simply point to Him. Whenever we manifest God to our neighbors, we give Him the glory. It is a humbling thing to be used of God for His purposes and it is a joyful thing to enter the courts of our God. “I was glad when they said unto me, ‘We will go into the house of the Lord.’…For there is the seat of judgment, even the seat of the house of David.” Amen.

Sermon for second Sunday after Christmas, 2021

Driving back from James and Chloe’s wedding this past week, I observed the following message on a roadside sign: “2022: Let’s Try This Again.” I could certainly resonate with that sentiment: 2021 was supposed to be the year that we put the pandemic-related challenges of 2020 behind us, and now here we are at the start of a third year in which our schools, our communities, and our lives continue to be disrupted by Covid. Still, we can hope that as the calendar turns from 2021 to 2022, better times lie ahead. But while it may be tempting to leave 2021 in the past, this second Sunday of the Christmas season reminds us that the themes we have been exploring at the end of 2021 are still worthy of our attention now at the start of 2022.

At the Christmas Eve vigil, we introduced the Christmas theme of the Light shining in the darkness with a close look at the prologue of St. John’s Gospel. We considered how Jesus Christ is the Light of men, the promised Lamp for the people of God as we make our pilgrim journey through this world. As we noted, the Light shines that we too might bear light in the darkness around us. We considered the words of the English writer and mystic Evelyn Underhill, that “every Christian is, as it were, part of the dust-laden air which shall radiate the glowing epiphany of God, catch and reflect his golden Light.” This theme continues on this second Sunday after Christmas, as our Collect directs us to pray that God, “who has poured upon us the new light of [his] incarnate Word,” may “grant that the same light enkindled in our hearts may shine forth in our lives.” This morning, then, we will consider in more detail what it means for the light of Christ to enkindle our hearts and for us that light to shine forth in our lives.

This Collect dates back at least to the time of a tenth-century liturgical manuscript called the Gregorian Sacramentary. The Latin perfundo, which is translated in the Collect as “poured,” has the sense of “to pour upon” or “to sprinkle,” and is often used in the context of describing the sacrament of Holy Baptism. The writers of this Collect, then, almost certainly intended us to view this “pouring” not as an abstract metaphor but as a clear reminder of our baptism. How, then, do we “catch and reflect [Christ’s] golden Light”? It is, first and foremost, through our baptism. In part for this reason, baptism was called phōtismos, “illumination,” by the early Church. In his oration on Holy Baptism, the fourth-century church father Gregory of Nazianzus speaks of baptism as illumination with the following words: “Illumination is the splendor of souls, the conversion of the life, the question put to the Godward conscience. It is the aid to our weakness, the renunciation of the flesh, the following of the Spirit, the fellowship of the Word, the improvement of the creature, the overwhelming of sin, the participation of light, the dissolution of darkness. It is the carriage to God, the dying with Christ, the perfecting of the mind, the bulwark of Faith, the key of the Kingdom of heaven, the change of life, the removal of slavery, the loosing of chains, the remodelling of the whole man.” Baptismal illumination, Gregory concludes, is “the greatest and most magnificent of the Gifts of God.”

It is at baptism, then, that the light of Christ “enkindle[s]” our hearts. How, though, does this light then “shine forth in our lives”? Simply put, it begins with allowing the light of Christ to transform every aspect of our persons through the work of “spiritual formation” or what we might call an “education in virtue.” In contrast to our present day, in which we tend to emphasize ensuring that we all think right thoughts and know the right facts, the church fathers, in their writings on how people learn and grow, consistently emphasized how human beings are fundamentally embodied beings. Thus, while the intellectual domain was undoubtedly important, it was also important for these church fathers that we tend to the various parts of the physical body as means by which we receive training in faith and virtue. To return to the aforementioned oration by Gregory Nazianzen, then, we should not be surprised to see Gregory implore the baptized, “Let us cleanse every member, let us purify every sense; let nothing in us be imperfect or of our first birth; let us leave nothing unilluminated.” In other words, the natural outworking of our baptismal illumination is that this illumination works its way out into not just our souls or our minds but into every member of our bodies. Thus, Gregory begins, “Let us enlighten our eyes, that we may look straight on, and not bear in ourselves any harlot idol through curious and busy sight; for even though we might not worship lust, yet our soul would be defiled. If there be beam or mote, let us purge it away, that we may be able to see those of others also.” What Gregory is saying is that the first way in which we can think of Christ’s light “shining forth in our lives” is to ensure that our eyes have been “enlightened.” While in Gregory’s context he most likely had in mind concerns about guarding one’s eyes from the temptations of of mixed-gender baths or the scandalous lasciviousness on display at the ancient theater, we can easily extend the application in our present day to protecting our eyes from those corrupting sights of our age. This would of course most notably include things like internet pornography but could also reasonably encompass much of what we view on social media or on our television screens. And so, here at the start of the year 2022, we can ask: are my eyes enlightened? How could I do a better job this year of filling my eyes with what will lead me more into the light of Christ and keep myself from filling my eyes with the things of darkness?

Gregory goes on to consider the senses of hearing and speech: “Let us be enlightened in our ears; let us be enlightened in our tongue, that we may hearken what the Lord God will speak, and that He may cause us to hear His lovingkindness in the morning, and that we may be made to hear of joy and gladness, spoken into godly ears, that we may not be a sharp sword, nor a whetted razor, nor turn under our tongue labor and toil, but that we may speak the Wisdom of God.” As we know well from the epistle of James, the tongue is powerful but very difficult to control; with it we both praise God and curse those made in God’s image (Jas 3:9). Often, what comes out of our mouths is directly related to what we allow to come into our ears. The music we listen to, the podcasts that we download, even, in a sense, the books we read–all these influence and shape our patterns of thought and therefore our speech. And so, here at the start of 2022, we can likewise ask: are my ears and my tongue enlightened? How could I do a better job this year of filling my ears and my tongue with what will lead me and others more into the light of Christ and keep myself from filling my ears and my tongue with the things of darkness?

Gregory goes on to talk about the need for still other parts of the body to be illuminated with the light of Christ, but the pattern is clear enough: if we want Christ’s light to shine forth in our lives, we should give serious thought to the transformation of every part of our persons. In all these things, we have a model in Jesus Christ, the incarnate Word. By taking on human flesh, Christ has given us an example of what it means to be fully–truly–human. This Christmas season, as we reflect on the mystery of God becoming man and all the blessings that flow from this mystery, let us not forget that Christ came not only to reveal to us the way of true life but also to send us the Holy Spirit, who empowers us to catch and reflect the light of Christ. It is a startling and remarkable truth that at baptism we receive the same Spirit that anointed Christ in his earthly ministry so that we can continue his work, his mission, as his people for the good of the world. To this end, let’s look at our Epistle for this morning, from Isaiah 61. In this prophecy, placed on the lips of the incarnate Christ, we see that the Spirit of God was upon Jesus, enabling him to perform the particular vocation to which he was called. It is not a coincidence that Luke records Jesus quoting this exact passage at the start of his public ministry, shortly after his baptism, at which the Holy Spirit had descended upon him in the form of a dove. Clearly, it is an important prophecy for understanding the connection between Jesus’ baptism, Spirit-empowerment, and mission. It is, as N. T. Wright explains, “unambiguously Davidic, and explicitly messianic,” and “is perfectly consistent with the overall picture of Jesus’ work” throughout his public career. It is, given the fact that the same Spirit that anointed Jesus has now been poured out on us, a picture of what it might look like for us, as the Collect puts it, to allow the light of Christ to “shine forth in our lives.” 

Looking more closely at Isaiah 61, then, we see a set of activities that collectively portray the characteristics of the comig kingdom of God. Where God’s reign and rule arrives, first in the person of Christ and now in his Body, the Church, we should expect to see the good news go forth, to see that the brokenhearted will be bound up, the captives will be liberated, the mourning will be comforted, God’s enemies will be repaid, and all of this leading to the flourishing of his people and the glory of the Lord. Yes, it is true that these things will be fully realized only when the Lord comes again, and yet we believe that even now Christ’s kingdom is advancing among us, in us, and through us. This truth is recognized in the name of our church, Christ the King; at the Ascension, Christ was seated at the right hand of the Father, where even now he rules over the world as its true Lord and King. And so, the same Spirit-empowered mission announced by Isaiah and enacted by Christ now becomes our own vocation. And so I ask, in 2022, how can we, Christ the King Anglican Church in Marietta, Georgia, preach good tidings to the meek? Bind up the brokenhearted? Proclaim liberty to the captives? Comfort all that mourn? 

This task seems too large, an impossible calling for our little mission. Indeed, given that we are unlikely to cure cancer, end sex trafficking, or solve poverty here in Atlanta in this new year, how, practically, can we live out this Isaiah 61 vocation? It can, I think, be easy to get so lost in thinking about systemic issues that we can lose sight of the needs of the actual, individual people that God brings into our lives. Was this not, after all, Jesus’ own model, as he engaged with individual, broken people, calling them back into right relationship with God and with others? Dostoevsky, in his classic novel The Brothers Karamazov, has a scene in which the wise Father Zossima, leader of the local monastery where one of the brothers finds himself, meets with a woman who had come to him for counsel. Father Zossima tells the woman a story about a doctor who had told him, “The more I love humanity in general, the less I love man in particular. In my dreams, I have often come to make enthusiastic schemes for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually have faced crucifixion if it had been suddenly necessary; and yet I am incapable of living in the same room with any one for two days together, as I know by experience. As soon as any one is near me, his personality disturbs my self-complacency and restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he’s too long over his dinner; another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I detest men individually the more ardent becomes my love for humanity.” Christ, though, shows us a different way: an “active love,” to use Dostoevsky’s term, that was relentlessly personal and attentive to the needs of each person who came into his path. This, then, is where you can start: that you “strive to love your neighbor actively and indefatigably.” What would this “active love” look like in your cell group, in your family, in your workplace, or in your school? In my case, for example, as a teacher it can be easy to love my students on a collective or on a theoretical level, but can I really love each student individually–even the ones that goof off in my class, cheat on their assignments, and perhaps even mock me and my beliefs? Can I endeavor anew to show my students an “active love” that reveals to them the light of Christ in me this year? By asking questions such as these as they are relevant to your own circumstances, you’ll be on your way to exhibiting an “active love” in which the light of Christ shines forth in your life.

Consider a time when you’ve been at the beach or the lake, and seen how the light from the sun hits the surface of the water, being reflected and refracted in a way that makes the beams of light visible to our eyes. Generally speaking, we can’t see the beams of light as they traverse the heavens and pass through our atmosphere, but when they strike the water’s surface, they suddenly become manifest to our eyes in all their glorious splendor. This, I suggest, is what Underhill meant with her charge to “radiate the glowing epiphany of God, catch and reflect his golden Light,” and it provides a wonderful image of what this morning’s Collect is calling us to in this new year. May we, in 2022, be a forest of “trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord,” radiating the goodness, truth, and beauty of King Jesus across northwest Atlanta. Amen.