Homily for Easter Sunday, 2022

Children’s Homily

I’ve got a question for the young zoologist here. What does a caterpillar become? [a butterfly] Right! And when does it become a butterfly? [When it goes into its cocoon.] God made the caterpillar/butterfly to teach us something very important. Because of the butterfly, we have an idea of what it will be like for us when we die. We were just out in the Garden this morning before the service, right? What did we put on top of the grave outside? [a big stone] Well, we are kind of like the caterpillar, and when we die our graves are kind of like a cocoon. Have you seen a graveyard? There are a lot of graveyards here in Marietta. Sometime soon, Jesus is going to come back. He is going to come back in the same way that He went away to Heaven. Do you remember how He went up into Heaven? [on a cloud] Right! He rode on a cloud. When Jesus comes back, all the people in all the graves will be raised up alive! It won’t be a scary, creepy thing. It will be a glorious thing, kind of like when a butterfly comes out of a cocoon.

St. John once said, “Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.” When Jesus comes back, we are not going to look like a butterfly. We really don’t know what we will look like exactly, except that you will still be you. You will still be human. You will actually still have your body, but it will be different somehow. More glorious. That body won’t ever get sick and die. It won’t get tired. St. Paul talks about this same thing. “When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory.”

So, even though dying can be scary, and graveyards can be spooky, there is really nothing to fear. You belong to Jesus and He has big plans for you, plans to bless you and not to harm you. He is working in you now, He will work in you then. And because He was risen from the dead, we can be confident that we will be, too. Amen.

Adult Homily

Most of you were up late last night at the Great Vigil, so this will be a lot shorter than usual. While it is true that a transformation will take place at the return of Christ, we also know that this transformation is already taking place, even before we enter the cocoon of the grave. Our Epistle this morning is from Colossians 3. If we continue reading, St. Paul says, “…cast off the old self with its evil deeds, and put on the new, which is being refashioned unto knowledge according to the image of its creator.” Which is being refashioned is in the present continuous tense. Meaning it is already happening. God is doing His transforming work right now! Though of course we are not at all able to do this mysterious work ourselves, this is not a passive work on our part. We have a role to play. We are to participate by “casting off the old self with its evil deeds, and put on the new.”

Like the caterpillar, there is a shedding of old flesh, old habits, old sins. That part, we understand pretty well. But just in case, St. Paul gave us two lists of what represents the “evil deeds” of our “old self”. What is much more difficult to comprehend is what it means to “put on the new", but this action is just as much a part of living out our future glory as the "putting off the old self”.

What does it mean to put on the new? We have our clue in the text, which is being refashioned unto knowledge according to the image of its creator. It is no doubt that our Creator here referenced is Jesus Christ. This new self that we are put on is in His image. And what is His image? Well, morally, He is perfect. So we should like like that. Relationally, He lives in constant Communion with the Father. So that is part of our new self that we are to put on. But perhaps more than anything, it is the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus that gives us His “image”. This is the clearest image of not only what Jesus does, but of who Jesus is. Therefore, the Passion of Jesus provides the image of who we are being transformed into, the blueprint of our new self, like the pattern marvelously drawn on the wings of a butterfly.

What is this new self, this new humanity that we are to put on?

It is life-oblation for the sake of others, and total faith that God will raise us up.

It is love unto death for our neighbor, infused with hope that God’s Word is more certain than the grave.

It is the casting of every crown at the feet of God,

the sacrifice of everything that hinders,

the destroying of every idol,

the humbling of ourselves before our brothers and sisters,

the giving away our possessions to the poor,

laying down our vanity and choosing the modesty of inner beauty,

it is befriending the broken and outcast and poor,

it is giving up our comforts for the sake of the lost,

it is becoming a drink-offering poured out for the life of others.

This is the new self which is being refashioned unto knowledge according to the image of its creator.

How do we put on this new self? By participating in the Passion of Jesus Christ. When we do, we will also be partakers in the power of His resurrection in the here and now. We will notice that we are given ghostly strength, irrepressible joy, unexplainable courage, untainted clarity, un-disturbable tranquility, overwhelming gratitude, undoubtable faith, imperturbable magnanimity (say that 10X fast!). [airport walkway?]

This is the new self that we are to put on, and every time we walk in this Jesus pattern of self-gift, self-oblation, we are rejuvenated and transformed by the same Holy Spirit that raised Him from the dead. So that His Resurrection is the power for our presentation transformation, and His vindication is our confidence that every tiny cross that we hoist up and carry in honor of our crucified King will not be wasted. No sacrifice will not be rewarded. Every self-oblation will be received by God as a sweet smelling aroma. Every miniature Passion will bring us closer to and more like the One who says, “Behold, I make all things new.”

So brothers and sisters, let us be an Easter people, knowing what will be true of our bodies in the end, and knowing that there is a Resurrection mystery at work in us even now. And let us go forth from here believing with all our heart that Jesus will raise us up from every cross, every grave, and every act of self-oblation. Amen.

Homily for the 3rd Sunday in Lent, 2022

“Christ Shall Give Thee Light”

The Third Sunday of Lent, 2022

The Rev. Dcn. Kyle Hughes

THE COLLECT.  

WE beseech thee, Almighty God, look upon the hearty desires of thy humble servants, and stretch forth the right hand of thy Majesty, to be our defence against all our enemies; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

THE EPISTLE. Ephesians 5:1-14

BE ye therefore followers of God, as dear children; and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savour. But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints; neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient; but rather giving of thanks: for this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ, and of God. Let no man deceive you with vain words: for because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience. Be not ye therefore partakers with them: for ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of light; (for the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness, and righteousness, and truth;) proving what is acceptable unto the Lord. And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them; for it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret. But all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light: for whatsoever doth make manifest is light. Therefore it is said, Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.

THE GOSPEL.  St. Luke 11:14-28

JESUS was casting out a devil, and it was dumb.  And it came to pass, when the devil was gone out, the dumb spake; and the people wondered.  But some of them said, He casteth out devils through Beelzebub, the chief of the devils.  And others, tempting him, sought of him a sign from heaven.  But he, knowing their thoughts, said unto them, Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and a house divided against a house falleth.  If Satan also be divided against himself, how shall his kingdom stand? because ye say, that I cast out demons through Beelzebub.  And if I by Beelzebub cast out devils, by whom do your sons cast them out? therefore shall they be your judges.  But if I with the finger of God cast out devils, no doubt the kingdom of God is come upon you.  When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace; but when a stronger than he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he taketh from him all his armour wherein he trusted, and divideth his spoils.  He that is not with me is against me: and he that gathereth not with me scattereth.  When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest; and finding none, he saith, I will return unto my house whence I came out.  And when he cometh, he findeth it swept and garnished.  Then goeth he, and taketh to him seven other spirits more wicked than himself; and they enter in, and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first. And it came to pass, as he spake these things, a certain woman of the company lifted up her voice, and said unto him, Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the paps which thou hast sucked. But he said, Yea rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it.

Tags: St. John Chrysostom, St. Benedict of Nursia, Evelyn Underhill, John Henry Blunt, Peter O’Brien

“Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.” You may be seated.

* * *

Throughout the seasons of Christmas and Epiphany, we have come back time and again to the theme of light as a way of thinking about the person and work of Christ and, by extension, our life in Christ. At the Christmas Eve vigil, for instance, we looked at how the prologue of St. John’s Gospel set forth the Christmas motif of the light shining in the darkness, considering 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 discovered, the Light shines that we too might bear light in the darkness around us; to return again to a powerful quote from Evelyn Underhill, “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.” Then, on the second Sunday after Christmas, we reflected further on what it means for the light of Christ to enkindle our hearts and for that light to shine forth in our lives, emphasizing how it is at baptism that Christ’s light floods our souls, setting us on a lifelong journey of allowing the light of Christ to increasingly transform every aspect of our persons. Finally, throughout the season of Epiphany, we celebrated the arrival of Jesus as Savior and King, considering how we might shine the light of Christ to the world around us. We should not, then, be surprised to see that the theme of light continues into this season of Lent. Turn with me in your booklet to our primary passage for this morning, the Epistle reading, from the fifth chapter of St. Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians, and we will consider how the Apostle Paul calls us to “wake up” and walk as “children of light,” that we may, with the help of the Holy Spirit, build our defenses against all assaults of the darkness.

Let’s start at the end of the passage, in verse 14, in which St. Paul quotes what appears to have been a familiar saying, “Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.” While clearly drawing on biblical language from passages such as Isaiah 26:19 and 60:1, this quotation, in the eyes of most biblical scholars, is likely taken from an early Christian hymn–and perhaps, more specifically, from an early Christian baptismal hymn. The conjunction of imagery involving the movement from death to life and the appearance of light is, as we have seen, commonplace language for how the earliest Christians articulated their theology of Holy Baptism; it is, we recall, the case that at our baptism Christ fills us with His light. Thus, the hymn fragment is suggesting that apart from our baptism into Christ, we are by nature asleep, dead. By contrast, our baptism is the means by which we are awakened, made alive. This image helps us to see the objective change in our status as a result of our baptism. And yet Paul himself recognizes that, subjectively, our experience of that transformation, that lifelong process of the Spirit making us alive in Christ, may be harder to see. That is, in fact, precisely why Paul sees the need to remind the Ephesians of their baptism by quoting this baptismal hymn fragment: the Ephesians were not, in fact, living in accordance with their identities as “children of light,” as he puts it in 5:8, but were instead acting according to their old nature by continuing to partner with the “children of disobedience,” as he describes those who are apart from Christ in 5:6. 

Indeed, the whole point of this passage is to contrast the old life and the new. In particular, Paul contrasts the “fruit of light,” which “is found in all that is good and right and true” (5:9), with “the unfruitful works of darkness” (5:11), which in this context appears to be primarily referring to sins of sexual immorality that derive from our disordered desire to covet what is not rightfully ours. Like Jesus, Paul extends the category of sexual immorality from actual instances of fornication or adultery to something seemingly harmless. I like to tell my high school students that Ephesians 5:4 would be an excellent school verse that we should slap on all our school marketing materials and plaster on the walls of all our classrooms: “Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.” That is to say, in the New Testament, the demands of sexual morality extend beyond merely engaging in sinful sexual actions to also encompass thoughts and words. Paul, of course, is not opposed to sex; rather, because it is a gift from God, we are to rightly receive it in its proper place with “thanksgiving,” which commentator Peter O’Brien calls “almost a synonym for the Christian life.” 

In any event, it is worth noting that as much as some Christians and some churches may wish to minimize or downplay the Bible’s teachings on sex, here we have just one example of the biblical writers identifying Christian sexual teaching as a non-negotiable element of what it means to walk in the light. Perhaps we should not be surprised, then, that it is precisely this issue of sexual morality that our surrounding culture targets for deconstruction, painting those who hold to the biblical teachings as not simply killjoys but as haters whose opinions are causing harm and need to be canceled. What is more surprising, though, is the seemingly unending succession of scandals involving well-known Christian leaders, churches, and parachurch organizations who have failed to walk in the light when it comes to what they themselves profess to believe regarding sexual ethics. While these well-publicized failings have had very negative consequences for Christian witness to our broader society, we are not doomed to repeat these same mistakes. In particular, I want to call on the young people gathered here this morning, the next generation of leaders in the church and in the world, to radiate the goodness, truth, and beauty of the biblical teaching on marriage and sex, to hold out to those both inside and outside of the church the wondrous facts of our creation as male and female, of sex as a divine gift between husband and wife for mutual encouragement, the procreation of children, and the mystical imaging of Christ and the Church, and of chastity, fidelity, and self-control as virtues that will lead to flourishing in our own lives, in our families, and even in our society at large. Let us not be deceived, let us not partake in the works of darkness, but instead, let us be filled with the light of Christ, staying true to our baptismal commitments by living in accordance with our identities as “children of light.”

The urgency of Paul’s exhortation is underscored by this morning’s Gospel passage. On the surface, what we have in Luke 11:14-26 is Jesus performing one of his many exorcisms. What is particularly intriguing about this passage, though, is what Jesus says about demon possession starting in verse 24: “When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, and finding none it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when it comes, it finds the house swept and put in order. Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there. And the last state of that person is worse than the first.” So let’s follow the logic here: a man has a demon, but the demon is cast out. Seems good, right? But this has only encouraged the demon to go and gather its demon friends, and to come back with a full demon posse that overwhelms the man’s defenses, rendering him even more demon-possessed than he was at the start of the story. What exactly are we to make of this? With this passage in mind, let’s go back to Ephesians 5, on which St. John Chrysostom exhorts us as follows: “The devil stands hard at hand; he is going about roaring to catch thee, and turning everything against thy life. And art thou sitting down and talking folly? Look at the countenances of men in battle; the stern eye, the eager and beating heart, the spirit collected, but anxious and trembling. In camps all is order and discipline. If they who have visible enemies observe so great silence, art thou, whose chief warfare is in thy words, enjoying thyself with jests, and raising a laugh as if the matter were a mere nothing? Now is the time of watch and guard; such things are of the world, and can have no place here.” The problem with the twice-possessed man of whom Jesus speaks is that he is, in the words of Ephesians 5, “asleep.” After his exorcism, the guards on the perimeter of the man’s camp, so to speak, are laughing and joking, enjoying themselves, totally unaware of the enemy’s imminent assault. And so he is utterly routed in battle, his soul in far greater peril than even before. This Gospel story, then, is a picture of precisely what Paul is describing in more abstract terms in Ephesians 5. We must, as Chrysostom described in another of his homilies, guard the gates of our souls, vigilant against anything that we might be taking in that would corrupt or deform our souls away from the love of God and neighbor.

The nineteenth-century Anglican theologian John Henry Blunt likewise ties these two passages together, and connects them back to baptism as well as to this season of Lent that we are presently in: “The sense of Satan’s power was so strong in the early Church as to lead it to make exorcism an invariable preliminary of baptism. Every act of penitence is a kind of exorcism, and every Absolution is the conquest of Satan by Christ. But unless the swept and garnished soul is preoccupied with good, evil will return to it. In all Lenten discipline, therefore, the occupation of the soul by the sevenfold gifts of the Spirit is the true bar to the entrance of the seven evil spirits, and works of mercy will guard against the dangers and deadly sins to which inactive devotion makes it liable.” In other words, brothers and sisters in Christ, we have been baptized into Christ, filled with His marvelous light, and yet it is nevertheless still the case that the devil prowls like a roaring lion, seeking to devour our families, our souls, and all that is good, beautiful, and true. No wonder, then, that this morning’s Collect calls on God “to be our defense against all our enemies,” for it is only by his Spirit, only by his power, that our defenses can be secure. And yet, though the victory is Christ’s alone, we nevertheless have a role to play in constructing our defenses; this season of Lent, therefore, is one of those opportunities by which we can cooperate with the Spirit in the work of fortifying our souls.

How, though, does this work in practice? The passage from the Rule of St. Benedict that we looked at in cell groups a few weeks ago continues to inspire me: “The life of a monk ought to be a continuous Lent. Since few, however, have the strength for this, we urge the entire community during the days of Lent to keep its manner of life most pure and to wash away in this holy season the negligence of other times. This we can do in a fitting manner by refusing to indulge evil habits and by devoting ourselves to prayer with tears, to reading, to compunction of heart and self-denial. During these days, therefore, we will add to the usual measure of our service something by way of private prayer and abstinence from food or drink, so that each of us will have something with the assigned measure to offer God of his own will with the joy of the Holy Spirit. In other words, let each one deny himself some food, drink, sleep, needless talking and idle jesting, and look forward to holy Easter with joy and spiritual longing.” Benedict, rightly, recognizes that we are weak; we can, however, surprise ourselves with what we are capable of sustaining for a month’s time when we know there is an end in sight. Benedict thus exhorts us to both “give up” some measure of food or drink and “take up” increased habits of prayer and Bible reading. Benedict also reminds us of the purpose, the telos, of all this: an increase in joy, particularly joy that results from looking forward to Easter with “spiritual longing.” In other words, Lent without Easter is just a self-oriented time of self-improvement, while Easter without Lent is a hollow, fleeting celebration. But the cross always comes before the crown; the desert must come before the garden, the fast precedes the feast. Together, then, Lent and Easter give us, in miniature, the entire sweep of the Christian life. 

Let us then, this Lenten season, not partake in the works of darkness, but rather be filled with the light of Christ, holding to our baptisms by living as “children of light.”As the Lord himself says at the close of our Gospel lesson, “Blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it.” Let us keep God’s Word, hide it in our hearts, and let it be a lamp unto our feet. Amen.

Homily for the First Sunday in Lent, 2022

Homily for the First Sunday in Lent

Receive Not the Grace of God in Vain (2 Cor. 6:1)

            “Receive not the grace of God in vain” - Second Corinthians chapter six, verse 1.  Someone has given you a very valuable gift, which you likely never could have gotten on your own. A new home – mortgage free. A huge pay increase. Perfect physical health. Your dream job. Now think what it would mean if you receive that gift in vain. You neglect or squander it so badly that it makes no difference in your life. If such a great loss is true for even the best material and earthly gifts, how much more of a loss when the gift is grace, and the giver is God?

            I invite you to turn in your service booklet or Bible to today’s Epistle, 2 Corinthians 6:1-10. This epistle has been read in the Western Church on this Sunday, the first Sunday in Lent, since at least the 11th century.[1] In today’s Collect, we prayed, “Give us grace.” In today’s Epistle we are told don’t receive that grace in vain. As we walk through text, we will consider three things. First, what is God’s grace? Second, what happens when we receive grace in vain? Finally, we will see how the answers to these questions help us prepare for the blessings of Lent.

            Verse one: “We then, as workers together with him, beseech you also that ye receive not the grace of God in vain.” First, what is God’s grace? Because our society is so consumeristic, we need to state that grace not a thing. It is not something to be possessed. Grace is, rather, how God operates in the human soul.[2] It is divine love and power working in our mind, will, and affections. Grace is how God saves us.  It is no accident that perhaps the most well-known verse about grace is Ephesians 2:8: “For by grace you have been saved through faith.” Grace is God’s incomprehensible favor towards us. We do not, and cannot, earn this favor. Grace comes to us entirely by the merits and death of Christ.[3] 

            Second – what does it mean to receive grace in vain? To receive something in vain means to blunt its effects - to keep it from realizing its full potential. It is a precious gift that should be used but instead it remains sitting on a shelf or in a closet. Receiving grace in vain is also referred to as hindering grace (Gal. 5:7) or nullifying it (Gal. 2:21). In Ash Wednesday’s service, we heard it referred to as “abus[ing] the goodness of God.”[4] Later we will see some specific examples of receiving grace in vain.

            The Apostle Paul has stated his appeal – do not receive grace in vain – how does he support it? In verse two, Paul quotes Isaiah 49:8, and then he emphasizes the immediacy of God’s favor and help. Now is the “time accepted” - that is, the “acceptable time” - now is the day of salvation. Salvation is past (we have been saved), present (we are being saved), and future (we will be saved). Paul’s “now is the day of salvation” emphasizes the ongoing, present aspect of our salvation. He reminds us that we must allow grace to operate in the present – right now. Receiving grace in vain means we are not cooperating with God, in this moment, with His purposes for our lives. Do not receive the grace of God in vain because now is the day of salvation.

            In verse three, we see the second way Paul supports his appeal not to receive grace in vain. He informs the Corinthians that he has not placed any barriers in their way of making full use of God’s grace. “Giving no offence in any thing, that the ministry be not blamed.” In fact – verse four – he is able to approve or commend himself and his ministry. How can he do this? Because of what he has suffered. Beginning at the second half of verse four, he lists 10 hardships he has endured for the sake of the gospel. Notice the repetition of the word “in” – “in stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults” (that is, riots).

            Verse six marks a transition. It’s another list, but these begin with the word “by.” “By the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armour of righteousness.” These nine things are how God has enabled Paul to endure the sufferings of the preceding list. Notice that he goes from the “in” list to the “by” list without any interruption. Paul is not able to talk about his sufferings and trials without, in the very same breath, also talking about how God has sustained him throughout all of them. Paul is saying “I was able to live in all these things by His grace – so do not receive His grace in vain.”

            Before we look at specific examples of how we receive grace in vain, we should first note that many Christians have a too-limited view of when grace operates in their lives. Grace is not confined to those times we are feeling especially devout or when something good has happened to us. We must always take into account our fallen natures. Our minds are so darkened, our wills so weakened, and our affections so disordered that we are not able to will or to do anything that is pleasing to God without the aid of His grace. Grace precedes, enables, and sustains any good thought, act, or feeling. This means that the times we receive grace in vain are more numerous than we think.

            For examples, let’s look at the first three expressions of grace in verse six - pureness, knowledge, and longsuffering – that it, patience. One - God gives us the grace of purity. “Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.”[5] But when we permit our heart to be tainted by impure sights and thoughts then we have received the grace of God in vain. Two - God gives us the grace of knowledge. “Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths.”[6] But when we do not walk in His ways, and turn aside from the light He gives us, then we have received grace in vain. Finally, God gives us the grace of patience.  “I therefore…urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love.”[7] But when we indulge our anger and frustration and this hurts others, then we have received the grace of God in vain. That nudge you sense in that moment towards generosity, patience, or helpfulness? That’s Him. In fact, any good thought, act, or affection is the result of grace. How will you receive it? There are six more expressions of grace that follow in verses six and seven for which you can make your own applications. We may receive grace in vain more frequently than we realize, and the confession of “Lord, forgive me for receiving your grace in vain” should be said far more often than it is.  

            The last three verses (eight, nine, and ten) mark the final section of the text. You will notice nine couplets, beginning with “honor and dishonor, evil report and good report, deceivers yet true.” Many of these paradoxes represent what Paul’s critics have said of him and, at the same time – the other part of the paradox - the affirmation that God is nonetheless still working in his life and ministry. Whether God’s grace is working in our lives cannot be judged solely by outward circumstances. Others may misunderstand or criticize us, we may labor in obscurity, and we may feel alone in our deepest struggles, yet God is still present. And where He is present, there is His grace. Notice that final paradox - “having nothing, and yet possessing all things.” This can only be spoken by someone who says, “The world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.”[8] 

            Now let’s summarize the text and connect it to Lent. Paul begins by urging the Corinthians not to receive the grace of God in vain. He has not placed any barriers in the way of this message or his ministry. He reminds them that today is the day of salvation. Receiving God’s grace daily is how God currently saves us. As proof of his authentic ministry and message, he reminds them of his sufferings for the sake of the Gospel. And then, without missing a beat, he lists all the ways God’s grace has sustained him through all his trials.

            We have been talking about Lent and the traditional Lenten disciplines (prayer, fasting, and almsgiving) since the Weekly Mission email of February 9th. But perhaps it all seems unnecessary, or artificial, or just too Anglican for you. So let’s simplify it, and remove it from Anglicanism entirely for the moment. Here’s what evangelical author Dallas Willard said: “A discipline for the spiritual life is…nothing but an activity undertaken to bring us into more effective cooperation with Christ and his kingdom.”[9] In the Sermon on the Mount, our Lord taught His disciples about prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. None of them are ends in themselves. Rather, they are always to be practiced in relation to the Father. When you pray, pray to your Father in secret.[10] When you fast, fast to your Father in secret.[11] Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where your Father is.[12] One of the Opening Sentences for Morning Prayer during Lent is “I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.”[13] We observe Lent because we know what God wants for us - that we be conformed to the image of His Son – the Son who said, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work.”[14] If we allow it, Lent shines a spotlight on our selfishness, pride, and love of comfort – all the things that draw us away from the Father. Lent can reveal the parts of our lives not entirely surrendered to Him. But if we do not thwart His grace, He gives us the gift of repentance. He gives us a new and contrite heart.[15] We find grace that is always timely, restorative, and above all that we can ask or think. Even if you stumble and do not practice all the disciplines as you planned, that is not a failure. Just read to the end of the Epistle: “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”[16]  

[1] Massey H. Shepherd, Jr., The Oxford American Prayer Book Commentary (1950), pg. 125-126.

[2] Francis J. Hall, Theological Outlines (1933), pg. 239.

[3] The Book of Common Prayer (1928), pg. 81.

[4] The Book of Common Prayer (1662), pg. 356.

[5] Matt. 5:8.

[6] Ps. 25:4, ESV.

[7] Eph. 4:1a, 2, ESV.

[8] Gal.6:14b, ESV.   

[9] Dallas Willard, The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding How God Changes Lives (1988), pg. 156.

[10] Matt. 6:6, ESV.

[11] Matt. 6:18, ESV.

[12] Matt. 6:20, ESV.

[13] The Book of Common Prayer (1928), pg. 4.

[14] Jn. 4:34b, ESV.

[15] The Book of Common Prayer (1928), pg. 124.

[16] 2 Cor. 12:9b, ESV.

Homily for Quinquagesima Sunday, 2022

The Empty Mana Pua

St. Paul’s “If Love isn’t at the center…” (with examples)

So what? A secret (with examples)

What now? Talk to God

A few years ago, our family went out to Hawaii to visit Mrs. Melton’s family there. She grew up on the Big Island. While we were on the big island, we stopped at a store and bought some Mana Pua. Mana Pua is a doughy roll, kind of like this one, but in the middle is a ton of meat, really good meat. Mana Pua. Well, everyone got their Mana Pua and we started to dig in. It was all very silent. All you could hear was the ocean wind and [chewing sounds]. I ate mine, and I discovered that mine was not Mana Pua. It was just a big piece of bread! There was no meat in the middle! Just a plain ol’ dinner roll.

That dinner roll is a good metaphor for something that St. Paul talks about today. He says that every deed, if it doesn’t have Love at the center, they are worth nothing. He says, “Even if I gave all my money to the poor, if I didn’t have love at the center of it, it is worth…[nothing].” Well, if giving all your money to the poor can be worth nothing if it doesn’t have [Love] at the [center], then that’s the way it is for everything else.

If you sing the loudest in Church, but don’t have [Love] at the [center], it is worth [nothing]. If you keep your room very clean, but don’t have [Love] at the [center], it is worth [nothing]. If you refrain from saying something nasty when your brother or sister annoys you, but don’t have [Love] at the [center], it is worth [nothing].

Now you might be thinking, “So what? It doesn’t have Love at the center. It is worth nothing. Why does that matter?” And it is here that I need to let you in on a little secret. Love must be at the center of all things, because Love is the purpose for all things. Love is the ultimate purpose for all things. Most people don’t know that, but those who figure it out are filled with Joy always.

Let me give you an example. Raise your hand if you go to school. Okay, you, what’s your favorite subject? [subject] Why do you think you study that subject in school? [some practical answer] Yes, but its ultimate purpose is to teach you love of God…3X. And because it is the ultimate point of all things, then we must have Love in our hearts when we do them, or else it is worth [nothing].

You might be thinking, “Geeze, Fr. Tony. I don’t know what to do about that. It is hard enough just to obey my parents and do my homework and not punch the daylights out of my brother. Now I have to have Love at the center of every action and of my very soul? How do I do that?” You won’t be able to do it perfectly, but God has been filling your heart with Love ever since you were baptized. The most powerful thing you can do in trying to fill your heart with Love is to talk to God. Talk to God. Ask Him to fill your heart with Love for Him, for your parents, for your schoolwork, for your stinky ol’ brother.

You can have secret conversations in your head with God all day and at night when you go to bed. You can say, “God, I’m really angry right now. I feel like a Mana Pua with no meat in the middle. Will you help me?” Or you can say, “Jesus, I love you.” Sometimes children complain that God doesn’t talk back. But that’s malarkey. He always answers, it just might not be in the way that you are used to hearing. He answers in small whispers, in your heart. He always answers. What does the Bible promise? “Ask, and it will be given to you. Knock, and the door will be opened. Seek, and you will find Me.” So tonight when you lay in your bed, talk to God and ask Him to fill your heart with Love so that you won’t be like this dinner roll. Amen.

The theme for the Propers this Quinquagesima Sunday is Blindness. In our Gospel, Jesus told the disciples explicitly about the Crucifixion, and they did not understand. They couldn’t see it. This story is intentionally placed next to the story of the blind man. The disciples were blind to the great mystery of the Universe—that Love is the center and purpose for all things. Because they were blind to the mystery, then couldn’t comprehend the Crucifixion, which is pinnacle of Love, even when it was spelled out for them.

This is why St. Paul says in the Epistle today that we “see through a glass darkly”. Love never ends. Prophecy? it will pass away. Tongues? they will cease; Knowledge? We will soon understand that it was always there to lead to something else. Right now it is like looking through dark glass. We can see the shapes of things but not their ultimate purpose. But soon we will see things face to face because we will see God face to face, and we’ll realize the master of the Universe, that everything exists to lead us into Communion with the God who made us. Everything exists for Love. “Now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”

There is, in this, a grave warning to the Church. “Don’t be blind. If you can’t see the mystery, that Love is the center and purpose for all things, then nothing that you do will have any value. Your life won’t matter, and you might even fall under judgment for it.” We like to say that we see, but most do not. Not even the disciples could comprehend the Cross.

There is a huge difference between how natural man sees the World, and how the World that God made really is. This is because of the Fall. Every atom in the Universe is pulsing with God’s Love. It is all a sign for how much He far He’ll go to have Communion with us. But men live their lives trying to protect what’s theirs. Their pride. “It wasn’t me, it was the Woman that You gave me!” Their honor. “And Cain rose up and slew his brother, Abel.” Their life. Abraham said to Sarah, “Say you are my sister, that it may go well with me because of you, and that my life may be spared.”

We are no better. We wake up every day and go to work, we take our kids to the sports games, we wait for our vacations…for what? Is it for the love of God? We might think that we know what it means that Love is at the center and purpose of all things, but we shouldn’t be so sure of ourselves. The way the disciples looked at the world had no place for True Love, even when it was spelled out for them. What are we missing? How are we blind?

If Adam saw that Love still rippled through every part of Creation, then he would have run to find God, and thrown himself down in sacrifice for Eve. He would have given his life for hers. If Cain knew that the only thing that will matter in the end is how much we love God, then he would have rejoiced in God’s pleasure over his brother, and would have repented of his hard heart. Abraham finally learned the mystery. By the end of his life, he no longer used his family to achieve his own ends. No, he was willing to sacrifice his own son to the mystery.

And what is the Mystery? The Mystery at the heart of the Universe is Love, but we are blind to it. We are blind to it because Love runs counter to the World that sinful man has made. Love is Self-Sacrifice. Love is preferring that face-to-face Communion that Paul talks about to everything else. Love will cost you. As much as the world talks about “Love”, they actually despise it. Love means you’ll have to sacrifice your personal kingdom. You’ll have to deny yourself daily so that you can begin to be mindful of the needs of others. Love is the Cross. It is the Passion. And if the King of the Whole Universe had to choose a path that made confused his friends, made little sense to Himself, and was scorned by the World, then how can we suppose that our lives will flow comfortably along with the wider culture, or the great sweep of human history, or even with our own vision for what our lives should be?

We get this warning of our own blindness to Love on Quinquagesima Sunday for a reason. In three days, we begin our journey with Jesus up to Golgotha. The disciples followed Jesus to Jerusalem, too. But they did not understand what death, suffering, sacrifice, and self-denial had to do with Love. If we carry that same confusion into our Lent, then St. Paul warns that all our deeds will be worth nothing.

So what are we to do now? We’ve been warned that blindness is pervasive. Most do not comprehend the mystery, and therefore they do not understand the Cross. What are we to do? We can take our cues from the Blind Beggar and from St. Paul. The Blind Beggar begged God to make him see, and he found himself standing face to face with God. St. Paul, too, takes us to the ultimate ending of all things so that we might see the purpose for all things. He speaks of a time, coming soon, when we will stand before God face to face and know His infinite love for us. We will be like Moses in the Tent of Meeting, sitting with God face to face, and our soul will be eternally radiant. Everything else will pass away. All our accomplishments, knowledge, sorrows, fears, shame, feats of spiritual discipline, our notoriety, our victories.

If we keep Communion as our end point, then the Cross makes sense. Whatever leads our soul and the souls of our neighbors toward that moment when they “know, even as they are truly known”, that is Love. Whatever detracts from that face-to-face communion with God in our own lives, in the lives of our families, in our communities, is not Love. Those things must be offered up to God, like Isaac on Mt. Moriah, or like the eye plucked out, or the bronze serpent destroyed, or like food denied in the desert. That is called Repentance.

As we walk through this Lent, as we take up Prayer, Fasting, Almsgiving, Penance, let us not be blind to the true center and purpose of all things. But let the most consistent thing about this Lent be a continual breaking open of our loaf, asking God, “Fill me, Lord, with your Love. Help me to see you in all things. Take away my blindness, so that I can know how much I am known, so that all my deeds would flow from your Love for me.”

Amen.

Sermon for Sexagesima Sunday, 2022

SERMON FOR SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY

The Rev. James F. Sweeney, MTS, JD

“And some [seed] fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold.”

–From the eighth verse of the eighth chapter of the

Holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ according to St. Luke.

✠ In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

For many years, our family lived in the San Joaquin Valley in California. For those of you not

familiar with California, the Big Valley, as it is sometimes called, runs for several hundred miles

smack-dab through the center of the state and lies between the California coastal mountain

range and the Sierra Nevada mountains. Until fairly recently, it led the nation in agricultural

output, producing nearly all the almonds, pistachios, table grapes, and plums produced in the

United States. We lived on a little ranch in the Sierra foothills, where, like many other people in

the region, we did a bit of hobby ranching and farming. About an acre of our little ranch was

set-aside for growing fruits and vegetables.

We took particular pleasure in growing fresh fruits and vegetables each year. Each year, in late

winter, we would undertake the process of readying our beds for the upcoming growing season.

We would remove the dead growth from the prior season, pull any weeds that might have

sprouted up, service our irrigation lines, and till the soil to ready it for the seeds and seedlings

we would soon plant. Having rich, properly prepared soil was the key to ensuring a good

harvest in the late summer and early fall. Once the seeds were sowed and the seedlings

planted, it was essential to make sure that we regularly watered the beds, periodically fertilized

them, controlled insects, and pulled weeds as they appeared. If we did all these things, barring

a spate of bad weather or an unexpected infestation of insects, we would enjoy a harvest of

wonderful plums, tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, and squashes later in the year. On the other

hand, if our irrigation system conked out, we forgot to spray for insects, or we let the weeds

overtake the beds, our crop would be pretty poor. The key to growing produce was to tend the

soil and to make sure that the seeds we planted had the best possible chance to grow, flourish,

and to produce a rich, abundant crop.

And, as the Lord tells his disciples in this morning’s Gospel lesson, our faith works the same

way. We are the seedbeds in which the seeds of faith–that is, the Word of God–have been

planted. What happens to those seeds, like tending vegetable beds, depends upon how we

care for the seedbed. If we spiritually water, fertilize, and weed ourselves regularly, we shall

grow in faith and godliness and “bring forth fruit.” In other words, the seed that was planted at

the moment of our baptism requires care and tending so that we fully and completely live out the

Word of God. The fruit to be harvested from this effort, of course, is ultimately union with Christ

and eternal life in the restored Kingdom of God. On the other hand, if the seeds get planted

where the bed is not tended, they get overtaken by weeds and eventually die–that is, other

things in our lives receive our attention and, through neglect, the power of the Word in our lives

is choked out just like weeds choke out healthy plants. The bottom line is this: Growing in faith

requires care and effort, just like the seeds planted in a vegetable garden. We are saved by our

faith in Jesus Christ, but growing in faith requires care, attention, and work if it is to mature and

flourish.

So, you might ask yourself, why is this Gospel reading assigned for today? Nothing in the Book

of Common Prayer is there by chance. Every single jot and tittle of its text has a purpose and

has been included for some pastoral purpose. What is the pastoral purpose for this Gospel

lesson today of all days? And the answer is that in just about a week-and-a-half, we begin our

Lenten journey. The Prayer Book is issuing a call to ready ourselves for our upcoming Lenten

journey. Many of you are new to our Anglican tradition. You may be asking yourself: Why is

there such emphasis upon Lent and Lenten discipline in Anglican Christianity? Certainly, in

other Christian traditions, the season of Lent is not something that requires us to alter

significantly the way we live our lives in the lead up to Easter–it’s simply the forty days that

precede Easter Sunday. But, for Anglican Christians, whose tradition remains deeply rooted in

the ancient undivided Church, Lent is a season of great spiritual significance.

St. Mark (Mk 1:12) and St. Matthew (Mt 4:1-11) record that Jesus, before beginning his public

ministry, retreated into the desert for 40 days to fast and pray. The ancient Apostolic Church

instituted Lent as a time likewise to retreat with the Lord into a spiritual desert in order to fast

and pray for forty days in preparation for the great high feast of Easter. The Church summons

us as disciples to join the Lord in the wilderness, fasting and praying as we ready ourselves to

celebrate the most important event in the history of creation, His glorious resurrection and

triumph over sin and death. During the season of Lent, we both prepare ourselves spiritually, as

well as exalt Him, while tending to our spiritual seedbed by focusing upon the Word of God and

doing those things that permit our seeds of faith to grow and flourish. Each year, we set aside

forty days to concentrate on tending our spiritual gardens by growing in faith and holiness.

Because we are broken and fallen, this is a life-long effort taken year-by-year, forty days at a

time. The work during this time must be intense, focused, and, like the Lord’s time in the desert,

spiritually, personally, and physically challenging.

The Church calls us each to till, fertilize, water, and weed ourselves spiritually. The seeds of

faith have been planted in each of us in baptism. And, like those tomato and eggplant seedlings

in our old vegetable garden, if they are to grow and produce a robust crop, we must make

certain that the spiritual soil in which those seeds of faith are planted is kept vibrant and healthy,

gets plenty of water and sunshine, and that the seedlings don’t get overtaken by weeds and

insects and die. To get the job done right, the Church has equipped us with some tools. And,

those tools are prayer, penance, fasting, and almsgiving. The Church has put them in our

proverbial garden sheds and made them available to us to use during this Lenten season. And,

like any good gardener or grower, we each need a strategy and a plan for Lent. How are we

going to cultivate and fertilize the spiritual soil in which the seeds of our faith are growing? What

are we going to do to control the weeds and prevent insects from damaging our seedlings?

What is our Lenten plan? We have only a week-and-a-half to go. We need to come up with a

strategy before we enter the desert. And, that is what the Prayer Book is calling us to do this

week. So, let’s give it a go, shall we? Looking in our tool shed, we need to figure out how

we’re going to use those tools.

The first tool available to us is prayer. Prayer is, in many ways, the water we will use to keep

our spiritual garden properly irrigated during this season. How are we going to increase our

time spent in prayer? Maybe we should consider praying Morning or Evening Prayer from the

BCP each day during Lent. It’s a marvelous discipline. And, technology has made it simple and

easy to do. There are a number of websites that host the BCP morning and evening prayer

texts, with all the scriptural readings for the day included in the prayer texts. We also stream it

each weekday morning from our own church on Facebook. Morning Prayer takes about 15 or

20 minutes to do well–and you’ll not only pray, you’ll also immerse yourself in the Scriptures by

doing so. That’s one idea. There are many others, but, as a starting point, you need to come

up with a prayer plan. You need to water your spiritual seedbed.

The second tool is penance. Penance is the spiritual equivalent to weeding. If you’ve ever

weeded your garden, you know it’s not a lot of fun. In fact, it can be back-breaking work, but,

once you’re done, your garden looks great. Penance works the same way. It’s painful, but,

after you’ve done it, you feel relieved. You need to come up with a plan regularly to examine

your conscience. This means spending some quiet time examining your behavior and

identifying where you have failed to meet God’s expectations of you. There are some good

resources out there to help you do this, if you need to get started. Examining your conscience

is always challenging, because as prideful, fallen creatures we don’t like to admit we’re wrong or

that we’ve failed. Once you have identified your faults and sins, you need to repent of them and

firmly commit yourself to amend your life so as to not sin in that manner again. Finally, having

done this, you should pray for absolution and the mercy of God. If need be, you might also

consider making an oral confession to a priest, during which you will receive a formal grant of

absolution from the Lord. In Anglicanism, oral confession is totally optional–the principle is

“none must, some should, all may.” But for some, the making of an oral confession is hugely

beneficial and spiritually healing, particularly if someone is afflicted greatly by the burden of past

sins. It’s a tool optionally available from the Church to help you with your “weeding.” How you

practice penance is highly personal and a matter of individual choice. The most important thing

is to do it– in whatever form works best for you.

The third tool in our shed is “fasting.” Fasting is a worthy discipline, widely practiced in the

Christian church since the very beginning. Fasting reminds us, by way of the inconvenience

and discomfort of hunger, that our focus in life must not be upon the material things in this world,

but upon God and His will for us. This is our spiritual “insect control.” There are many things in

this world–bright, shiny things–that distract us from keeping our eyes fixed on the Lord. These

things, like bugs, buzz around and bite us, damaging us spiritually. Fasting is one form of

spiritual insect repellant, reminding us that our focus should not be on material things, but on

those spiritual things that draw us closer to the Lord. One very old and ancient practice, which

still remains a spiritually useful discipline, is to fast on Fridays and abstain from eating meat.

Why Friday? Why abstain from meat? Because in the ancient world, meat was available to the

wealthy. The poor generally ate only fish and vegetables. By fasting and eating a single simple

meal of only fish, vegetables, or dairy on Fridays during Lent, we act in solidarity with the

poverty and suffering of Jesus, who sacrificed Himself for us upon the cross on a Friday. How

appropriate! We are joining ourselves in a very personal way to the poverty and suffering of

Christ. It’s a deeply meaningful discipline. In any case, regardless of what you choose, you

need to come up with a plan to fast at some point during Lent.

Finally, our last tool is almsgiving. There is a great old Latin chant that goes: “Ubi caritas et

amor, Deus ibi est.” This means “where there is charity and love, there is God.” When we give

to others in charity, we are in the presence of God. God is the sunshine that our spiritual garden

needs to grow and flourish. Almsgiving cuts through the clouds and lets the sun shine on our

seedbeds. How might we do this during Lent? Almsgiving takes many forms. Perhaps, there is

a needy family that needs assistance. Cook them a meal or buy them some groceries. Closer to

home, our church is in need of prayerbooks, hymnals, altar furnishings, and other things

necessary to our worship. Maybe consider donating some of these items to our church? The

REC has overseas missions in need of support. Perhaps a contribution to share the gospel

abroad would be appropriate? It depends upon your personal preference. All of these things

are opportunities to give in charity. Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est. Let the sun shine. You

need to come up with a plan to give alms, in some form or fashion, during Lent.

The season of Lent, brothers and sisters, is upon us shortly, Time is of the essence. We have

only ten days to go until Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. Let us commit ourselves

together this morning to leave this place with the intention to spend the next week prayerfully

considering how we may tend our own spiritual gardens during this coming Lenten season,

preparing ourselves to celebrate the great Easter Feast of Christ’s resurrection.

Praise be to Jesus Christ, now and forever! Amen.

Homily for Septuagesima Sunday, 2022

Fr. Jesse Barkalow - Septuagesima Sunday (February 13, 2022)

A liturgy, like a family meal. it is both a fixed and a changing thing. There are some components of a family meal that are fixed: preparation, gathering the participants, prayer, the acts of eating and drinking, and the work of cleaning up, to name a few, and some components change: the food itself changes with the seasons of the year. And the company at the table changes over the course of time. we have new and familiar faces at the table: immediate family, extended family, friends, neighbors, strangers, sometimes even our enemies join us for table fellowship.

The liturgy of Holy Communion is a particular and fixed act of worship, but it also contains components that change. As the seasons of the church change, certain parts of the liturgy change with it: the textiles, the candles, the incense, the music, the Scripture readings, and some prayers. And each season of the church year, like the seasons of nature, have a theme that govern these changes.

Winter is a season of rest, dormancy, sparseness, anticipation, and preparation. Lent is a season of humility, quiet, contemplation, reflection, and rejuvenation. Spring is a season in which the energy and the life that has been quietly maturing in hidden places, is finally revealed, and Easter is a season of Spiritual bounty, when God’s grace and abundance are let off the leash and given room to run (so to speak), when truth, beauty, and goodness are put on full display in all their God-given splendor.

Today we have entered into the season of pre-Lent. But we are not in this season by choice. We must not let our modern lives confuse us into thinking that we have control over the seasons. We enter Lent the same way we enter Winter, willingly or unwillingly, but by God’s good design. It is true that we have quite a lot of power over nature in our modern, industrial world. We can shut out the winter cold with central heating, we can drive away the winter darkness with electricity, we can ignore the winter fast by shipping in avocados from Mexico and fruit from south-east Asia. But none of this changes the reality that it is winter, it merely puts us into conflict with it. We pay dearly for these anti-seasonal luxuries: utility bills are expensive, food prices are exorbitant, and we struggle to handle difficult things when they inevitably break through our defenses.

This is true of the church seasons as well. The seasons are there, whether we live with them or against them. We do not decide, either corporately or individually, that we want to live through Lent and Easter, they always come. We get to decide to align our lives with the life of Christ, who established the seasons of the church through his life, Or we decide to ignore God’s design, and fight against what Christ set in motion through his life on earth.

If it sounds like this is leading to a dangerous place, a place where God expects something of us, and maybe even God’s family, the Church, expects something of us, A place where we are treated less like children and more like young adults, like people who are maturing into the stature of Christ and capable of hard work and real discipline. Well, let’s follow Paul, who followed Jesus, and see where he takes us in today’s epistle reading. In fact, it is just a little later in 1 Corinthians that Paul admonishes us to ‘be imitators of him, as he imitates Christ.’

So, what are we supposed to do with our epistle reading from today, which reads this way in the ESV:

‘Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.  Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.’

Why is Paul, the apostle of Grace, talking about running races and disciplining his body? anyone who has ever competed in anything knows that ‘free gift’ has no part in competition. If the prize is just given out, instead of being awarded to the winner, then by definition it’s no longer a competition. Who would watch the game tonight, if the coin flip decided the winner. Unless I’m missing something, and I just don’t have as much of God’s favor as the rest of you, then I think we can all agree that the foundation of any competition is work and not grace. The harder you work, the faster you run and the fastest runner wins.

We probably all have at least one of those friends who can easily pick up any new hobby or sport that they try because they live lives of discipline. That’s one reason I don’t use social media. I don’t feel the need for constant reminder that people are better than me at everything. Disciplined people adopt a new hobby or activity and they quickly improve, while those of us who lack discipline, have to learn discipline itself, as well as the new hobby, in order to make any progress.

            So how dare Paul, the church’s greatest voice against works-righteousness, talk about racing! Or is it possible, is it possible that our God is more like a loving Father than an eccentric vineyard owner? Is it possible that God is less like Elon Musk, and more like a man who wants to see his children grow in maturity, strength, skill, and even enjoyment?

When we look at the parable of the vineyard owner in today’s gospel reading, we learn that this world, our own souls and bodies included, belong to God. And that it is up to the Creator to choose what he does with his creation, not up to us. If we begrudge God his generosity toward others then we shut ourselves out from Him. It is a fact of the kingdom of heaven that we cannot accept God’s generosity toward us when we will not allow it for others.

And this just might be the underlying fear of what is sometimes called ‘works-righteousness.’ We don’t want to accept that our brothers and sisters might work harder than us, might do more than us in the kingdom, might be more disciplined than us, but neither do we want God to be generous, giving every worker the same pay, not matter what they have done. We don’t want to see everyone getting paid the same thing, despite how hard they worked. We also don’t want to be told that others have worked harder than us. We don’t want to be told to discipline our bodies, to fast, pray, and give, except as much as we are already doing it.

If we read our Bibles, then yes, reading Scripture is important. If we pray, then yes, prayer is important. If we tithe, or If we fast, then yes, they are important. But if not, well then don’t go preaching works-righteousness to us. Don’t go telling us that we are in a race and that discipline matters.

But The lesson of the gospel reading is not that God’s mercy is unjust (faith without works, as James calls it). And neither is the lesson of today’s epistle reading that salvation goes to those who earn it (works-righteousness). The lesson of the gospel is that the first shall be last and the last shall be first. And the lesson of the Epistle is that anyone who wants to win a race is going to train for it. In other words, run the race before you, but make sure you know where the finish line is. Beloved, we’ve been set free from sin and death, we’ve been brought into God’s vineyard, we’ve been given a chance to join the race, and it was not through our own doing.

That is the unequivocal call of the gospel to all of us: That, first, we turn around by repentance; and that we then work out our faith, with the whole company of saints, in fear and trembling. Wherever we happen to be as we come to the altar in repentance this morning, it is from there that we start our race back to the Father, through the Son, by the power Holy Spirit. Some of us might be a long way from the disciplined life of God’s family, and some of us might be working hard to conform ourselves to the Rule of life through prayer, fasting, giving, and devotion. 

But if any of us are indeed going somewhere, if we are indeed moving toward resurrection life, Then we had better live lives like athletes, like people who take every decision into consideration in the light of the goal they are working toward. If we want to endure to the end of the race, to take hold of that which has been set before us, Then we had better take Paul’s advice and imitate him as he imitates Christ.

Who knows the race better than Our Heavenly Father who designed it, better than the Son who was the first to finish the race, better than the Holy Spirit who is there with us, strengthening us, for from the beginning to the end. If we want to endure the race, we had better allow God’s ordained seasons to form us into the likeness of Jesus. We must allow the disciplines and the practices that have come down to us from Christ, to shape us. The disciplines that took the Apostles and the saints through to the finish line.  ‘I do not run aimlessly’ says Paul, ‘but I discipline my body and keep it under control.’

If we are indeed no longer spectators, then we will live like it.  After all, we are completing for something much greater than a gold medal, or a ring. Are we going to wait around for the 11th hour, because there’s a rumor that some people joined the race late, worked less, and still received the prize?  Are we indeed in the race, or do we hold secretly in our hearts the famous words of St. Augustine from his Confessions, ‘Lord, grant me chastity and continency, but not yet’ (7.17).  Few of us are as self-aware as St. Augustine, but maybe we’ve allowed ourselves to live with the less honest version of his prayer, maybe, when we don’t want to be disciplined, we say something like: ‘I’m just a sinner saved by grace’ But that is not what Jesus means when at the end of today’s gospel reading when he says: ‘the last will be first, and the first last.’ Look at what St. Ignatius wrote to the Church in the passage we read for cell group this week:

‘let us be eager to be imitators of the Lord, to see who can be more wronged, the more cheated, who the more rejected, in order that no weed of the devil may be found among you, but that with complete purity and self-control you may abide in Christ Jesus physically and spiritually.’

And Ignatius is not saying anything that he did not get from Paul and the Apostles. In chapter 4 of 1 Corinthians, Paul paints a picture for us of what the life of a star athlete looks like. A little bio piece on being one of the greats in the faith. He says,

‘I think that God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, like men sentenced to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels, and to men…To the present hour we hunger and thirst, we are poorly dressed and buffeted and homeless, and we labor, working with our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we entreat. We have become, and are still, like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things.’

And still, Paul and the other Apostles, saints and legends though they be, do not hold first place, they were merely imitating Christ, to whom we all must ultimately look as our example in this life. And it is Christ who,

‘though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.’

As it says in Philippians 2.

It is Jesus and his race, his victory on the cross, and the eternal life he shares with us, that brings us to together at the Lord’s table this morning.  It is by the work of Christ, the witness of his Apostles, and the faithfulness of his Church through the centuries, That we come together, to be strengthened, for our own race. And it is in imitation of Christ and of those who have gone before us, that we lay down our own lives, giving ourselves to God and to our neighbor, submitting ourselves to discipline.

Because this is the discipline of God’s family. We, gather, we pray, we fast, and we give, in order that we might be imitators of Christ, ‘forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, pressing on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.’

amen