Sermons

Psalm 26:1-8 Romans 12:9-21 Matthew 16:21-28

Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.  [Romans 12:9]

It is the Apostle Paul who provides us with these bullet points on the elements of Christian love.  Centuries later, we would do well to highlight these bullet points and post them on our refrigerators, to make them a part of our daily devotion time – particularly over these next ten tension-laced weeks as we move toward election day.

Paul was writing to the Romans prior to his arrival in Rome.  Paul was transported to Rome as a prisoner; Paul was legally a citizen of Rome and demanded that he be tried in Rome.  That visit to Rome did not end well for Paul.

Violence had erupted in Rome; Nero considered it prudent and politically advantageous to blame the Christians; apparently, Paul and Peter were the scapegoats.  Peter and Paul lost their lives as the result; it is speculated that Paul and Peter were executed in Rome by the Emperor Nero.   And, yet, we have this essential checklist of the many ways we are called to model the love of Jesus Christ.

How poignant is that message:  When facing evil, focus on love; when fighting against hatred, preach LOVE.

So, let’s dig a little deeper.  What was it that drove Paul toward love in the face of hatred by the authorities?  So much so that he devoted such a large portion of this letter to the subject of love.

Quoting from the mid-twentieth century monk Thomas Merton:

“The beginning of the fight against hatred…is not the commandment to love…It is the prior commandment, to believe.  The root of Christian love is not the will to love, but the faith that one is loved.  The faith that one is loved by God.  The faith that one is loved by God although unworthy – or, rather, irrespective of one’s worth.”

Similar to the Apostle Paul, Thomas Merton died tragically and mysteriously.  And, like the Apostle Paul, some of his beliefs were a challenge to the authorities – in Merton’s case, a challenge to Catholic orthodoxy.  Thomas Merton died as the result of being electrocuted while showering in preparation for a keynote speech in Bangkok, Thailand where he had integrated a great deal of Eastern theology into his Catholic beliefs.

Even with the odds against him from his tragic childhood and Church authorities, Merton, who was a young adult when he came to the faith, held strong in his beliefs; his words ring true:

“The beginning of the fight against hatred…is not the commandment to love…It is the prior commandment, to believe.  The root of Christian love is not the will to love, but the faith that one is loved.  The faith that one is loved by God.  The faith that one is loved by God although unworthy – or, rather, irrespective of one’s worth.”

Most of us would say that we are not worthy of the one perfect sacrifice that was made for us.  Yet, to love truly, as Jesus loves us, we must first accept that we are loved truly by God.  Our efforts to love others is superficial without our understanding of God’s love for us.  We cannot love with the love of Christ until we accept and believe that we are loved despite our unworthiness.  We come time after time to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ accepting our unworthiness, but coming worthily to receive.

That ability and willingness to love as Christ loves us begins with faith, not worthiness.  When we have faith in Christ, we want to be like Christ; we want to love others as Christ loves us, seeking daily a deeper relationship with Christ as our model for love, which begins with believing.  Believing begins with regular worship, daily study of the scripture, and an unceasing sense of prayer and meditation.  Our worship and prayer shapes our belief; our belief leads us to love others as Christ loves us.

To tap into the words of last week’s message from our bishop, it is our faith and belief that allows us to move beyond the current highly-touted politically divisiveness and more faithfully toward our call to be the Church.  There are too few of us to allow our political opinions to divide us further.  This divisiveness did not begin with any one person or specific time; it has been coming upon us as an unhealthy transformation over the past decades.  In overcoming this secularly-charged divisiveness, we are to turn our attention to the divine.

Nothing makes the devil happier than to divide the Church.  Nothing makes the devil happier than for us to be distracted by the pitfalls of our human nature.

In what is labeled the most stunning rebuke in the Bible, Peter is rebuked by Jesus for allowing Satan to be the stumbling block that distracts his focus from that that is divine, focusing instead on human desires.

Our call is to carry these words of Jesus’ stunning rebuke.  Our call is to bring forward these words, “Get behind me Satan!” when we are tempted to speak words of hate rather than words of love – words that allow Satan to separate and distract us from the reality of our being loved by God.  When we speak words of hate, Satan delights in our weakness.  Keep the awareness of Satan’s delight fresh in your mind; let this command “Get behind me Satan” guard your thoughts, words, and actions.

Our epistle lesson concludes: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”  There is no evil that God does not overcome with Good.  “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.”  God does not need our interference.

The root of Christian love is not the will to love, but the deep down firm belief that each of us is loved.

1 Kings 19:9-18 Psalm 85:8-13 Matthew 14:22-33

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”  The truthful succinct answer is that Elijah is fleeing in fear for his life, abandoning his call as the great prophet of the Lord.  Elijah had been in an ongoing confrontation with King Ahab and Queen Jezebel.  Elijah had overseen the killing of the prophets of Baal; he had been zealous against the desecration of the altars of the Lord.  As the result of his zealous efforts, he had incited the ire of Queen Jezebel who now sought his life just as zealously.  Fleeing in fear to Mount Horeb, Elijah found himself alone and afraid.  In the loneliness – in the silence, God speaks, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Elijah finds that he was not alone; God was present all along; God is present now.  Elijah’s mission as the prophet of the Lord is not complete.  Elijah is given specific instructions in how he is to continue with a clearer understanding of God’s constant presence and his dependence upon that presence.  He is to trust that presence.

Several weeks ago, on an early Sunday morning, as I exited the interstate onto Chesapeake Blvd. and approached the first traffic light, I noted numerous police cars gathered in the intersection.  Sitting at the light, I was able to observe for a bit as a police officer seemed to be handcuffing a tall lanky man.  But, as I watched with interest, I realized that the officer, instead, was leading the man by the hand.  The man had obvious physical disabilities, palsied limbs and a shuffling unsteady walk.  The officer was backing down the sidewalk, leading the man by the hand as other officers stood frozen in suspended silence as if their words or movements would cause the man to break away in fear.  Slowly, steadily, gently, compassionately, the officer backed down the sidewalk, back step-by-back step, leading his charge toward a destination that time did not allow me to determine.

The compassionate scene brought tears to my eyes.  We are all ministers; this police officer recognized his ministry.  This man’s safety was obviously dependent upon this police officer who had gained his trust.  Had the officer turned loose the man’s hand, had he shouted impatiently, had he tried to rush, the sense of trust would have been broken; the mission to get this marginalized man to safety would have been derailed.

My mind went immediately to today’s Gospel lesson – Jesus reaching out his hand to save Peter from drowning.

Again, in this week’s lesson, as evening has come, Jesus sends the disciples away in their boat and seeks time alone to pray.   By early morning the disciples have been struggling against the wind and waves through the night.  Matthew tells us that they are far from shore when Jesus comes toward them walking on the water.  Amidst the fear and confusion, Peter gets out of the boat in response to Jesus’ beckoning.

The sea is raging, but Jesus does not calm the storm as Peter approaches.  Jesus simply says, “Come.”  Peter comes toward Jesus walking on the water UNTIL, taking his eyes off Jesus, he notices the storm, and he begins to sink.

Only through his faith and trust in Jesus can Peter walk on the water.  Alone, distracted by his fear, and without the recognition of his dependence on Jesus, Peter sinks.  He cannot save himself or anyone else without that faith and trust; he must stay focused on Jesus – a simple message – a difficult message by which to live.  He must stay focused on Jesus.

Peter could not save himself; Elijah could not save himself; the tall lanky subject on the street corner on that early Sunday morning could not save himself.  Neither can we save ourselves.  Regardless of our sense of self-sufficiently and earthly power, at some point in our lives, we will cry, “Lord, save me!”  We are dependent upon Jesus Christ; when we lose focus on that faith and trust, we flee in fear; we slip below the surface; we struggle aimlessly.  We struggle until, in the silence, we hear the Lord’s voice, “What are you doing here?”  And, we follow his command, “Come.”

Isaiah 55:1-5 Psalm 145: 8-9, 15-22 Romans 9:1-5 Matthew 14:13-21

We have studied these past three weeks the Parables of the Kingdom, devoting our thoughts to the Kingdom of God that is here and now, and the Kingdom that is to come.  There is always a tension for us as God’s children to hold both the human and the divine, the earthly and the spiritual, finding the sacred presence of God within the ordinary of our everyday lives.

In exploring the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000, we are drawn deeper into that understanding of the bread of life amidst the age-old tension between the human and the divine.  The people come again and again and again to Jesus, seeking to understand his message.   Jesus’ message is that the bread of God gives eternal life to the world.  Yet, it is clear that Jesus always fed the people and instructs us to do so.

Jesus affirms that we must have physical bread to survive and thrive.   Yet, that is not enough.  Studies, some particularly horrible, from decades past have shown definitively that infants and very young children whose physical needs are provided still do not thrive or even develop normally without relationships with other human beings.  Even as adults, we can have all the physical food we need, but without relationships with others through which we exchange the love of Jesus Christ – the spiritual bread of life – we cannot truly live.  I grieve for our precious elders in this community of faith who are receiving optimum care at home but are withering away as the result of our forced isolation.  Many will never recover.  Thankfully, when their and our earthly life comes to end, and we no longer have need of earthly bread, it is the bread of God that comes down from heaven that gives us life eternal.

God, in his infinite wisdom, created us human with human needs.   God came to earth fully human to sanctify our humanity – to connect for us the fully human with the fully divine.  From the five barley loaves and the two fishes – the travelling food of the poor – Jesus fed the multitude with physical and spiritual food.

Similarly, we bring our meager earthly offerings to share at the Lord’s Table.   Through the work of human hands with God’s help and provision, the bread has been made from wheat of the field and the wine has been made from grapes of the vineyard.   And, by the invocation of the Holy Spirit, the bread and wine will become the body and blood of Christ – always, always, that indistinguishable line between the earthly human and the heavenly divine.

As we come to share the Holy Eucharist – we experience that that is fully earthly at the same time as that that it is fully heavenly.  And, as we partake of the body and blood of Christ, together we become united as one with Christ.  Thus, the bread becomes our channel for worship and service to Jesus Christ.  We are fed so that, in turn, we can take the bread of life into the world.

We partake of the eternal bread and open our lives to the revelation of God’s plan for us.  The dividing line between the human and the divine becomes less and less distinguishable as we are drawn closer to God for understanding.  The bread of Christ is not purely a physical bread that ignores our spiritual hunger, and it is not purely a spiritual bread that ignores our human needs.  It is the bread that fills and fulfills.  Jesus says to us, “I am the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

1 Kings 3:5-12 Psalm 119:129-136 Romans 8:26-39 Matthew 13:31-33,44-52

Jeremiah 28:5-9 Psalm 89:1-4,15-18 Romans 6:12-23 Matthew 10:40-42

Jesus said, “Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple – truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

Thus, Jesus ends his lengthy missionary discourse.  Step by step, with brutal honesty, throughout the discourse, Jesus has warned of a journey of trials and adversities that will come to those who are sent out as missionaries of the Good News – sheep in the midst of wolves, flogged in the synagogues and dragged before governors and kings.  Jesus assures that the mission will not be a mission of peace, but of the sword – man against father, daughter against mother, households divided by the choice of each member to take up or not to take up the cross of Jesus Christ.  Last week’s Gospel lesson concluded with the familiar words of Jesus’ admonition, “Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”  [Mt.10:39]

So then, if we choose to follow; if we take up the cross of Jesus Christ, we lose our life as we know it; we walk knowingly and bravely into the midst of wolves – obedient slaves.  Why?  The phrase “fools for Christ” comes to mind.  Are we fools to believe and to answer the call to be sent out on this missionary journey – to lose our life in order to find it.

The Apostle Paul writes to the Romans, “The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” [Romans 6:23] Having been set free from sin, we have become slaves of righteousness.

And, so, we follow; we become disciples of Jesus Christ.

There are trials and adversities; we know those as “life.”

Jesus ends this portion of Matthew’s Gospel that is subtitled The Missionary Discourse; his words have been difficult for us to absorb.  Yet, Jesus ends this honest and forthright lesson on the dire cost of discipleship with words of endearment and gracious hospitality.  As Jesus’ disciples, we will be welcomed as Jesus was welcomed and as God the Father is welcomed.  As slaves of righteousness, we will receive the reward of righteousness.  Endeared to Jesus our Lord, we are the little ones.  Whether flogged or pierced by the sword, we will never be separated from God.  We will never lose our reward.

Extra-biblical history and legend provides insight and speculation into the cost of discipleship paid by the original disciples of Jesus Christ.  They were known to have been stabbed to death, crucified, beheaded, stoned or bludgeoned, or exiled into hard labor.

The Apostle Peter was crucified upside down by order of Nero in Rome.

Andrew was whipped severely and crucified on an X-shaped cross that has become his symbol.

James the Son of Zebedee was the first of the disciples to be martyred as recorded in the Book of Acts; James died by the sword per the orders of King Herod; it is said that the Roman officer who guarded him was so overcome by James’ defense of his faith that he presented himself to be executed beside James.

Matthew, too, is believed to have died by the sword as he spread the message of Christ is Ethiopia.

Bartholomew was flayed to death by a whip.

Thomas was stabbed to death with a spear in India where his teaching of the faith had made great missionary impact.

Jude was shot through with arrows as, again and again, he refused to deny his faith.

Philip was likely stoned and crucified on a long cross.

James, the Minor, is recorded to have been beaten to death by a fuller’s club; and Simon, the Zealot, sawn in two with a long saw.

Matthias, the disciple chosen to replace Judas Iscariot was stoned and beheaded.

John, Son of Zebedee, the only disciple believed to have died a peaceful natural death, had survived attempts on his life – being boiled in a cauldron and forced to drink a cup of poison.  John was eventually exiled to the Island of Patmos, and many years later freed to return to modern-day Turkey.  Even so, we credit John with the care of Mary, the mother of Jesus, and with his prophetic writings including the Book of Revelation.

Deadly relentless efforts were made and continue to be made to snuff out the message of Jesus Christ.  But, that message continues.  These martyred disciples are the “little ones” of which Jesus is speaking with such endearment – martyrs, but never separated from the love of God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Endeared to Jesus our Lord, we are his disciples, we are the little ones.  Whether flogged or dragged before unjust accusers or pierced by the sword, we will never be separated from God.  In spite of our trials and adversities, through faith in Jesus Christ, we will never lose our reward.

What an honor to be welcomed in the name of Christ, to be welcomed as Christ is welcomed, to give our life to Christ.  Think of the tiniest dewdrop on a blade of grass; in it we find reflected the sunshine and the blue of the sky – in the tiniest dewdrop.  Pray, Little One, that in you, others will find reflected the love of Christ.

Jeremiah 20:7-13 Psalm 69: 8-11, (12-17), 18-20 Romans 6:1b-11 Matthew 10:24-39

Jesus said, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.”

We think and speak often of the peace of Christ.  We look forward to the time when we can once again exchange the peace of Christ safely with a handshake or a hug or even a kiss.

Yet, Jesus bamboozles us with this statement, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.”  And, if we consider what we know about Jesus’ life and ministry, we would have to agreed it was not peaceful.  We might even have experienced this piercing sword for ourselves – a time when we have discerned with God’s help to do the right thing in spite of pressure from family and friends, in spite of the knowledge that our decision would bring anger and division, a sword inflicting deep injury in a human relationship that would be slow to heal.

These weeks of Ordinary Time have come; Pentecost has passed; we set off in earnest on our journey as Jesus’ disciples, learning from the true Teacher.  Matthew’s Jesus is symbolized in the human face of God.  Our study of Matthew’s Gospel through the coming weeks of summer and fall will be as students of the teachings of Jesus organized into five different discourses; today’s lesson is a significant portion of the Missionary Discourse.  Jesus, our teacher, is quite transparent as he shares the brutal truth of the great costs of our commitment as his disciples.

Jesus is not advocating family divisiveness; he is not encouraging us to be disrespectful or irresponsible in our relationships; Jesus is calling us to live into those relationships – to face the challenges of those relationships in ways that nurture and prioritize our call to discipleship in ways that further the transformation of this world toward the Kingdom of God.  We cannot shy away from disrupting the false peace that obscures or diverts our call to live into our covenant as people of God.

If you have been blessed with a loving benevolent father or father figure in your life, you know that, out of necessity and duty, fathers don’t always bring peace.  Misbehaving was one thing, but having my father know that I had misbehaved was an emotional sword through my heart that kept me from being in the wrong place at the wrong time more than once.  A true loving father does not turn his back on much-needed discipline out of fear of disturbing the superficially peaceful household.

Jesus knew that his call was to disrupt the status quo, to challenge the world’s injustice, to speak the truth that would at times divide even his closest followers.  Jesus’ teaching did not hide the reality of the dangers of the disruption of the superficial peace we are tempted to enjoy in spite of its shallowness.  These earliest disciples and disciples of every generation since continue to accept this reality and obey the call toward the transformation of the world into the kingdom of God.

If we do not recognize that God is above even our dearest loved one, where will we be, how will we go on if and when we lose that dearest loved one?  We mortals will pass, but God is real and everlasting.

God, through his Son Jesus, is asking us to choose.  First century Jews who made the choice to become Christians were banished from their synagogues and alienated by family members.  Our choices may very likely divide us from friends and family.  The choice to be a disciple of Christ and to follow his teachings has brought the literal sword of persecution and death into the lives of far too many Christians in our world.

The unifying principle – God’s message that is incredibly clear in Jesus’ words to his disciples, is that we are to follow without fear.  Rather than our own human determination and planning, which over and over obstructs our view of God’s promise to us, we trust God to heal our divisions – to embrace us into his grace, freedom, and destiny.

Our God is a god who cares even for the tiny sparrow – purchased for a half penny – the cheapest meat available for purchase by the poorest family in first century times.

This is God in whom we entrust our destiny; this is God in whom there are no divisions; this is God wherein lies the true peace that we seek beyond the sword.    Amen

Exodus 19:2-8a  Psalm 100 Romans 5:1-8 Matthew 9:35-10:8(9-23)

This is the season of graduation celebrations.  This year’s season of graduations has been one we will remember for its sadness, in that we were forced to gather only virtually.  And, it will be remembered for the compassionate and amazingly creative means that education administrators and loved ones have implemented in order to make these rites of passage a truly celebratory event.  We celebrate with our graduates this year with particular keenness.

For these sorts of celebrations – graduations, ordinations, retirements, and we might include weddings and wedding anniversaries – we salute significant accomplishments by the honorees.  There is an understanding that the honoree earned something special, certainly with the help of mentors and supportive family members, but all in all an accomplishment by the honoree that we celebrate.

Similarly, we celebrate birthdays.  But, in contrast to graduations and retirements, we can’t say we earned our birth.  Our birth was a gift to us from God with the help of our parents.  Yet, each year on our birthdays, we receive more gifts and felicitations as if it is some sort of worthy accomplishment.

Similarly, as Christians, we have received the gift of salvation; we receive this gift of salvation as a child of God, justified by faith alone.  Our salvation is not our accomplishment by us.

The Apostle Paul affirms in his letter to the Romans, ‘Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand.’  It is through Jesus Christ that this grace is obtained.  We are justified by faith, and we have peace with God.  What greater gift could we imagine than peace with God.  This faith is sufficient; this peace is enough; and, it is a gift.  We simply have to take the gift in hand and heart and open the box.

The manifestation of our faith is our call to discipleship.  As in the gift of our earthly birth, with nurturance, we grow in body and spirit; the gift of our salvation is nurtured, inseparably, in our discipleship in the peace of God.

Within this peace of God, called into discipleship, Jesus’ words that we hear today are a loud trumpet blast.  “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.”  I don’t know that I have understood Jesus’ statement with the same clarity as after spending ten intense days in Israel and the West Bank.  While there and since, the words ring in my head again and again: ‘The laborers are few.’  Here in the Land of the Holy One who walked and preached and healed, the laborers are few; Christians are a tiny minority within the minority of Palestinians – sheep in the midst of wolves.  The harvest – the huge majority of Palestinians and Israelis who face life every day without recognizing the gift – without opening their hearts to the peace of God through the message of justification by faith are, nevertheless, locked in centuries-long injustice, hatred, and death.  If only they would accept the gift – peace with God, the key to locked hearts.  The harvest is overwhelming; the laborers are brave and tireless, but few.

Jesus’ message is the same message that the Israelites received from God through Moses in the Wilderness.  God said, “You have seen … how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself.” But, Jesus brought a new understanding and clarity to these words.

The world is in sore need of the awareness of this gift.   “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.”

We’ve all had cause for tears these past weeks as our sense of community has been ripped to shreds – tears of outrage, tears of sorrow, and tears of joy.  The news account of Lucy Hosley, part-owner of the Valentine Deli in New York, evokes all of these emotions and more.  Lucy stood in the street outside her smashed deli with arms crossed castigating the masked perpetrators who continued to vandalize and loot her store shelves.  In an interview later, she confessed she knew these young people.  In her words, “I know who you are, but I won’t turn you in; I’ll let God do it.”

Lucy knew them, as she described, because for years she had been feeding the children of her neighborhood on Saturdays at the local school.  Taking money out of her own pocket to begin this program, she wept as she described these hungry children eating eggs and bacon as if they had never eaten before.  “It broke my heart,” she said.  On this night, they broke her heart even more; not so much because of her destroyed business, but because of the dysfunctional unjust brokenness into which these young people had fallen prey.

Lucy described her own childhood growing up in the cotton fields of the segregated South, being told, even by her mother, that she would never amount to anything.  She credits her pastor for guiding her to put those thoughts out of her head and seek a better life for herself with the gift of God’s peace firmly planted in her heart; none of us is nothing in the sight of God.

Lucy ends her interview with a plea, not for punishment or restitution; her plea is to parents, “Stop telling your child ‘You won’t ever be nothin’.  We need to educate these children.  We can do better.  My life matters; their lives matter.”  Wise words from one who well knows the power of God’s grace.  The harvest is plentiful, but the Lucy Hosleys are far too few.

Much like our earthly birth, our salvation is a gift from God, peace through our Lord Jesus Christ.  We celebrate our graduation – our earning of degrees from esteemed universities; we cannot earn salvation; we can only receive it with open hearts and carry it forth with the hands, feet, ears and voices of laborers for Christ with the greatest celebration.

The Rev. William DuBose, a late 19^th century professor of theology at Sewanee was much more formally learned than Lucy Hosley, but the theology of each regarding God’s grace is in agreement.  To quote DuBose, “It is simply that we are not to bring our goodness to God, but to bring it from God.  We are to come to God with the nothing that we are, and receive from Him the all things that God is.”

We would be nothing without the gift of God’s grace so freely given; in that gift, is all that is God, peace that we cannot resist sharing with the plentiful harvest.    Amen