Saturday, December 20, 2014

Christmas Eve Sermon: Luke 2:1-20 The Shepherds

To be preached at St. John's on Christmas Eve, God willing.

I began my preparation for this year's Christmas Eve sermon as I begin the preparation for all sermons.  First comes a prayer for God's guidance, then a reading of the text, then some devotional reading from the Church Fathers on the text, and then the more difficult work of examining the text in its original.  A regular companion on this textual study has long been The Rev'd. Dr. Marvin R. Vincent, who was the Baldwin Professor of Sacred Literature at Union theological Seminary in New York from 1888 until his retirement.  I was intrigued by his comment on the Shepherds in verse 8 of today's Gospel Lesson from St. Luke chapter two.  "Luke's Gospel is the gospel of the poor and lowly.  This revelation to the shepherds acquires additional meaning as we remember that shepherds, as a class, were under the Rabbinic ban, because of their necessary isolation from religious ordinances, and their manner of life, which rendered strict legal observance wellnigh impossible." (Vincent's word Studies in the New Testament Volume I p. 269.)  This statement brought to mind something I had read just a few minutes before from the Venerable Bede's "Homilies on the Gospels 1.7"  "The shepherds did not keep silent about the hidden mysteries that they had come to know by divine influence.  They told whomever they could.  Spiritual shepherds in the church are appointed especially for this, that they may proclaim the mysteries of the Word of God and that they may show to their listeners that the marvels which they have learned in the Scriptures are to be marveled at." (Ancient Christian commentary on Scripture: New Testament III. p. 42.)  Then I began considering Dr. Vincent's regular citing of John Wycliffe's 1395 translation of the New Testament, which he says is noted for its literal rendering of the Latin Vulgate.  Wycliffe translates the angel's (or the "heuenli knyythod) message as "Y preche to you a greet ioye, that schal be to al puple. For a sauyoure is borun to dai to you, that is Crist the Lord, in the citee of Dauid."  And again  "Glorie be in the hiyeste thingis to God, and in erthe pees be to men of good wille." The translator here points out that the Heavenly Army is proclaiming peace to the world.  Already our categories are being turned on their heads.  But a closer examination of Wycliffe's translation is even more astounding.  Instead of our beloved "I bring you good news..." he translates "Y preche to you a greet ioye."  The phrase in Greek is "euangelidzomai humin karan megalain" and literally means "I evangelize to you a great joy."  Is it any wonder that at the end of the day the shepherds made known the saying concerning this child?  Having been evangelized themselves, they were compelled by what they had experienced to share the great joy with others.

Now explore with me the implications of this brief exegesis.  I would submit to you that we are not that different from the shepherds.  We believe in God and seek to serve our Lord faithfully, but like them, our lives seemed filled with realities which prevent us from serving God they way we might like to.  There are probably those who think that we could do a lot better in the spiritual department, and they might well be right.  But for reasons of his own, God dispatched his heavenly Army, his "heavenly knighthood" to bring us to the awareness that Jesus came to us in a way which changed everything, and which refuses to fit into our categories and expectations.  This is not a sentimental message delivered by Victorian angels taken from the cover of a Hallmark card, but a fearful, and yet peace bringing proclamation delivered by heaven's most fearsome warriors.  It says that Messiah is come among us, in a way that we can verify, and that God is glorified as our darkness turns to light and the peace of God is offered to all of us who will seek him in good will.  Surely this is great joy, the kind of joy that none of us can keep to ourselves.  It is the kind of joy that the English Evangelist Rico Tice says causes us to dance in the street and hug strangers.  It drives us to evangelize the world just as it drove those shepherds to tell everyone they met that Christ was come into the world!

At the beginning of this short exegesis, I read a selection from Bede's Homilies on the Gospels.   "The shepherds did not keep silent about the hidden mysteries that they had come to know by divine influence.  They told whomever they could.  Spiritual shepherds in the church are appointed especially for this, that they may proclaim the mysteries of the Word of God and that they may show to their listeners that the marvels which they have learned in the Scriptures are to be marveled at."  Let me take this a bit further now.  Not only are we like the shepherds in our degrees of separation from what we might wish to be, but we are all shepherds, or examples, or guides to someone in this world.  It might be a child, or a student, or a relative, or a friend, or a neighbor.  Whoever it is, someone is there to notice and hear all of us.  As shepherds, we are all called "to proclaim the mysteries of the Word of God..."  We are all called to "evangelize to you a great joy."  It is a good thing, and a Christian thing in this Christmas season to be kind, and to help the poor, and to comfort the afflicted.  But the greater vocation, the primary vocation which God gives to all of us is to share the good news of the coming of Jesus to be our example, and our Saviour, and our Lord.  I hope that all of us might be able to share that good news with the people to whom we are shepherds during this most holy season.  Might I suggest that when you get together with your friends and family between now and the Feast of the Epiphany, or "Auld Christmas" on January 6th, you suggest that as a group you read together the Gospel of Luke, chapter two, verses 1-20.  The sharing of this good news is true evangelism, and it is at the very heart of what God calls us to do.  It is as radical today as it was then, and it still brings peace into our troubled and notoriously busy lives.  It is the first enabling step of our acceptance and healing by God in Christ, and it has already started the transformation of our world.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.


Monday, December 15, 2014

The Question of Art and the Healing of Society: Rector's Rambling- January 2015

December has been a very eclectic month at Briarwood.  In addition to the observance of Advent and the celebration of Christmas, I did a bit of reading in early modern Scottish philosophers and theologians, and have thoroughly enjoyed traditional Christmas events like the Lancaster Chorale Concert and BalletMet's "Nutcracker."  As I sit down to write the first Rector's Rambling of the new year, the ideas are beginning to coalesce into a discernible whole. 
www.balletmet.org/
The BalletMet 2014 production of "Nutcracker" at the Ohio Theatre, and to a slightly lesser degree, the Lancaster Chorale concert at St. Mary's Church, were for me powerful and flowingly beautiful examples of what Homo Sapiens can become by God's grace as we strive by discipline, training, and perseverance to realize the potential God gives us. 
lancasterchorale.org/

Both events brought me to tears, and the ballet even brought my son, the former Marine, to tears.  Both events are almost like human dressage.  They portray us at our best, and call us to rise above those shortcomings which so often characterize our lives together.  But they tend to be reflections of the ideas and experiences of a small, highly educated, relatively prosperous group of people.  To the vast majority of my fellows, this is another world.  In times of alienation or social unrest, such events can become for many people icons of privilege and elitism.  They have in some revolutionary periods become targets of scorn and rejection.  One upshot of such social unrest and division has sometimes been a leveling of expectation and a degrading of all that is good and noble and true in the arts, and in our relations with each other. 

And so the question becomes, "How can we make the best, the most beautiful and most ennobling things in our culture, to be the property of all people?"  It is for me a serious question, because I believe that God is the ground of all being and is perfect beauty, and perfect harmony, and perfect function.  As a Christian, one of my duties is to attempt to create a society where individual lives, and relationships, and political realities are characterized by a fluidity of motion, by an economy of design and function, by a beauty based on justice and personal responsibility, and by true spiritual and institutional harmony which enables every man and woman to reach their full potential before God.

As a community, we here in Fairfield County and Central Ohio work hard to accomplish these goals.  The Lancaster Festival does a good job of bringing the arts to all of the people (especially children) in an affordable and accessible venue.  The Nutcracker provides scores of young dancers the opportunity to work on stage with accomplished professionals.  Our worship here at St. John's attempts to blend the best of the western musical tradition and sensory apprehension and apply our common experience to the glorification of the Triune God.
Worship at St. John's Lancaster
But as recent current events demonstrate, divisions of class and race and creed are still far too evident in our society.  We manage to "convert" an individual now and then to a deeper understanding of how our art can express our hopes and our experiences, and our faith in a loving heavenly Father.  We occasionally lead a person here or there to understand that true art allows us to express our common humanity at its best as we live together in a fallen world.  But the fine arts are still a distant and foreign thing to far too many people.  The celebrated and addictive brutality of popular film and of some athletic competition still drags far too many of us into the inhumanity which grows from power divorced from our Christian faith.  The sense of violence and alienation which dominates so much modern American literature and popular music has hardened many of us into beings who assume the worst, and arm ourselves to survive at the expense of our neighbors. 

It may seem like a small thing, but I hope in the year to come, all of us might resolve to take someone to a concert, or a gallery, or even to our Easter or Christmas services here at St. John's.  Many of the concerts in our community are free to students and seniors,  and most of us have the means to treat a friend to a concert and dinner.  Our worship services are always free of charge.  I cannot help but believe that the beauty of our lives and our architecture and our music, and of our souls, are all good things.  If we present them with humility and genuine friendship to neighbors made in God the Father's own image, they will come to yearn for his appearing, and will be drawn by the power of the Holy Spirit to join us in the proclamation that Jesus is Lord!  From that glorious and transforming phrase will necessarily flow the transformation of our society into the very image of heaven.
Flaxman's Shield of Achilles 1821 
The Western Artistic Ideal of a purposeful and Harmonious Community
 

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Comfort Ye My People: Sermon II Advent

Sermon on Isaiah 40:1-11, Advent 2B Revised Common Lectionary
To be preached at St. John’s on December 7th, God willing.

King Hezekiah had been very sick.  God intervened miraculously and healed him.  Shortly after he was restored, visitors came from a far away land.  They represented Merodach-baladan, the King of Babylon.  They brought gifts and letters of congratulations to the king of Judah.  The emissaries seemed to have good intent, and seemed to express a genuine joy at the King’s restored health.  In what might be called a “fit of generosity,” Hezekiah showed them all that he had.  The Prophet Isaiah saw the guise for exactly what it was.  These ambassadors were scouts for the raiding parties and invasion that were sure to follow.  God employed the Prophet to detail to King Hezekiah what was soon to come when the invaders came back in force.  At the heart of the message was the stark pronouncement, “Not a thing shall be left.”


Against this background of impending doom and desolation, God came again to the prophet in today’s first lesson from Isaiah 40.  Our proper today consists of the first few stanzas of a poem of consolation, one of the most beautiful in the literature of the Hebrews.  “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, says your God.”  Against the stark realities of the darkness of life, Isaiah is commissioned by God to deliver a message of hope and deliverance to the people.  It is a message that they had heard before, but they had always seen it as a message from their history, from their distant past.  It concerns deliverance from captivity across a barren wilderness, and ultimate restoration to a promised land.  But it also points out the weakness and insufficiency of mere human wisdom and provision.  And ultimately, it invokes the image of the “good shepherd” to assure the people of God’s love and provision for them.  With the coming captivity in Babylon, what had been a distant memory of their tribal history became real-time experience.  When we face times of difficulty and hardship today, we join them, and people throughout history in experiencing firsthand this same message from God. So what does it all mean for us today on this second sunday of advent?  I offer a few suggestions.


The first stanza in verses one and two speaks of sin and atonement, and of the punishment which accompanies that atonement.  Hezekiah and the people had sinned against God.  Sometimes it had been blatant sin, like when idols were erected in the temple precincts, or the poor were dispossessed of their property in the great economic upheavals of the eighth century.  At other times, the sin consisted of the adoption of cultural values or popular political agendas which were inconsistent with God’s will, such as when a good king was killed because his sense of duty and commitment to friends caused him to put his trust in horses and soldiers and fight with the Egyptians when the prophet had told him to stand firm and place his trust in God.  And then there were those things such as Hezekiah had done in extending absolute hospitality, a Biblical and cultural imperative, to those who had determined to do him and his people ill.  His misinterpretation of the law of hospitality happened because he was perhaps a bit prideful, or as Isaiah 39:8 and the opening verses of chapter 38 would seem to indicate, that he thought first about himself instead of about the job that God had given him to do.  How often do we in our ignorance willfully misinterpret scripture in a way that  tries to justify our actions or allow us to continue in our character defects and sins?  Our sins, like those of Israel, are very real, whether they be based on a willful rejection of God’s word, on a thoughtless adoption of the cultural values around us, or on a more nuanced attempt to see ourselves justified because our situation is special, or different.  


This leads us to ask, why must sin be punished at all?  Couldn’t God just let a few little things pass?  So much of bad decisions and stupid mistakes are rather harmless after all, aren’t they?  Well, not really.  If a person bounces cheques, he should not be surprised when people stop extending him credit or accepting his cheques.  If a woman cheats on her husband, betraying his trust, breaking his heart, and exposing him to disease and social rejection or ridicule, she ought not to be surprised if he divorces her.  If someone drinks too much or drugs and is ineffective in the performance of his job, he shouldn’t blame his employer when he gets sacked.  If a man engages in risky behaviour sexually, or by being a glutton or a heavy smoker, he should not be surprised when he dies young of health issues.  Sin has consequences in this world.  It also has consequences in eternity.  If God is who we say he is, that is, he is holy and good and true, and the essence and origin of those things, then sin and darkness and imperfection cannot exist in his presence.  Imagine that all sin and shortcoming and pain and hurt are a deep darkness.  When the light comes into the darkness, the darkness ceases to be.  So when God comes into our lives, all of those bad things are put away as well.  The time of punishment has ended because we have received from the very hand of God that undeserved gift of atonement which restores us and makes us one with God again.  Our sin is put away as far as the east is from the west, and we are healed.  In this world, God gives us positional holiness and looks upon us as sinless, even though our lives are still characterized by struggles and occasional failures, and by the ongoing consequences of past sin.  But this positional holiness is a foreshadowing of that day when Christ returns and we shall be perfect even as he is perfect.  We have all received punishment for our sins in this life.  But our faith tells us that when Jesus comes again, we shall be completely free, and in the mean time, we see those evidences of coming freedom in our lives every day when we make good decisions and walk away from the destruction of addiction, and selfishness, and bad behaviour, and perverse attitudes.


Isaiah says a voice cries in the wilderness, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord! Make straight in the desert a highway for our God!” Like many of you, for years I drove the snakelike valley roads of southeastern Ohio, with their steep climbs and treacherous turns when the topography finally runs out.  And then the route 33 bypass was completed between Logan and Nelsonville.  Every valley was filled in, and the mountains were laid low.  What used to take over an hour now just takes a matter of minutes, and I can run 70 miles per hour all the way to my destination.  When the Jews were led out of Egypt, they wandered in the wilderness for forty years.  God would have shortened the time, but their faith failed at several critical junctures. He kept loving them, and ultimately he got them to where they were going.  Here is a promise to the people of God.  Whether you are held as a slave in Babylon, or in prescription medicine, or in lust, or in gluttony, or in pride, or in discouragement, or in any other land,  God is still in the delivering business, and he offers us the same deal he offered the Jews the first time.  “Walk with me and I will give you strength and take you to the promised land. I am coming to you again, to lead you out of the wilderness, this one of your own making, into the promised land.  All of your efforts to this point have been ineffective, I know that.  They wither like the grass and fade like a flower, but now I am with you, to make the way .  I come with power and victory, and joy- to gather you into my arms as a shepherd gathers his sheep, I will hold you to my breast and bring you rest.”   That is the hope of Advent and the story of Christmas.  

Have you taken the time in this busy season of preparation to honestly catalogue those bad habits and worse memories and ongoing sinful decisions which defeat you, and make you want to give up?  Have you actually made a list of the things which make you feel distant from God, or unclean, or less than whole?  The God who loves all of us, speaking through Isaiah in today’s first lesson, has promised that when we acknowledge these realities in our lives, he will deliver us in wonderful ways and restore us to spiritual health and purpose as we await the consummation of this age.  We cannot do it ourselves, but he will make for us a highway through the wilderness.  Where we cannot see a way, he will bring us restoration and peace.  Today in this Holy Communion, which is the emblem of his acceptance of us, bring him your list, and receive his healing, and know his peace.  Hear the voice of the joyful messenger, that our God is here!  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.  

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Deer Season 2014

I lost interest in deer hunting years ago.  It is a sport which is slow even on a good day, and generally accompanied by bad weather and cold.  But, I still try to take at least a couple of days off during the season to pursue deer shooting as I do it.  I sit in relative luxury on the top back porch of our home at Briarwood.  Here I read books and articles with gun at the ready and hot beverages of my choice.  If things get too cold, I can step inside to warm up and do a few chores.  If something manages to stumble in under the apple tree to eat a bit, I have no aversion to putting it into the freezer, but my main purpose is an uninterrupted day away from the phone to read and think.
The view from my "Deer Stand." Note what a great bench rest the bar makes!
A hide fit for a king!
This morning's reading has consisted largely of  "How the Scots Invented the Modern World," by Arthur Herman.  It is a rather predictable romp through Scottish history which spends a lot of time on people like David Hume and Adam Smith, who I consider some of the greatest intellects and greatest wits of western culture.  Consider Smith's description of the University as a "sanctuary in which exploded systems and obsolete prejudices find shelter and protection, after they have been hunted out of every other corner of the world."  I guess things haven't changed all that much in the last two hundred and fifty years!.  I would love to be able to write in such vein. 

But I am restrained by a blog article I read last night from Bishop Dan Martins, the Episcopal Bishop of Springfield, Illinois, in which he points out that our position in the church, or arguably in any broader institution, ought to limit our grand philosophical generalizations because of the impact such statements have on the institutions we serve.  (You can read the entire article at http://cariocaconfessions.blogspot.com/2014/11/as-bishop-i-am-quasi-public-figure.html .)  His argument makes absolute sense to me.  We are all part of a broader community of some sort.  When we choose to speak boldly or rashly, even if our motives are the best, we often find that there are unintended consequences to our exhibitions of individual free speech and claims of individual liberty.  I have seen the tragic consequences of such acts in my own faith tradition as many have been pushed out of their congregations by the loud political exhortations of leaders and conventions assembled.  It does not matter whether the opinions expressed are on the left or right, or in the center.  They set us against each other and damage our ability to live together in harmony and prosperity.

And so I guess I will have to wait until I no longer wear a collar or draw my income from a parish to write after the fashion of Hume, Smith, and others.  Perhaps one day that time will come, but until then, I just sit in my deer stand and think.