 |
||
  |
SERMON ARCHIVE September-October, 2002 Click on the sermon you wish to read.
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen 27th
Sunday in Ordinary Time Isaiah 51-7 Click here for printable .pdf format We pretty much know how this parable works, but let’s review it anyway. There was a landowner — God obviously — and the landowner plants a vineyard and lends it out to some tenant farmers. The landowner sends one messenger after another to collect the produce of the vineyard — but the people have nothing to return to the landowner and so they stone the preacher prophets — one after another. Finally the landowner sends the son — the truly authoritative one. The landowner is sure that the tenants will listen to the son. But no — they seize the son and kill him too. Now — what do we suppose the landowner should do? We all know the answer. The landowner will throw the sinful tenants out on their ears and lease the vineyard to others. Isn’t that right? What happens though if we’re told, along with the Pharisees, that we’re wrong — way, way, way wrong? What happens if the answer is — "The landowner, when he comes is going to forgive the tenants all that they have done"? Well, that is the answer, and the Pharisees and any who answer alongside of them haven’t been listening much to Jesus. Or then again, maybe they have — but they don’t think very much of the answer. Sensible people do not like the prospect of the landowner forgiving the lazy, wicked, sinful tenants who will not produce good fruit. But the landowner does forgive them -- for beating one slave, killing another and stoning another. Yes, and the landowner forgives them for doing likewise to all the rest of the messengers who came to collect. To top it all off, when the owner of the vineyard finally does come, what he’s going to do is forgive — yes, forgive, even the evil ones who killed his son. And these tenants will inherit the kingdom — all they need do is trust that they are forgiven and accepted — and — shudder — loved without conditions. Haven’t you heard the scripture? The stone that the builders rejected has become their very cornerstone — this is the Lord’s doing and it is, in the Greek of Matthew, thaumasté — shocking, astonishing, unacceptable in our eyes. The people who sinned will, in fact, receive the son’s inheritance — just for holding open their hands. It’s the scandal of grace — it’s the same scandal that makes us object when we hear that the lazy laborer of one, easy hour will receive as much as the laborers who were there from the very first, who slaved twelve, long, dusty, hot hours in the fields. No matter how much we give lip service to the notion of free grace and Christ’s willfully dying love, we do not like it — especially if we suspect that the lowlife neighbor is going to get off, scot free. The whole thing is just too promiscuous. It lets rotten tenants, crooked tax collectors, and common tarts into the kingdom ahead of us who really try do things properly and in good order. We do not like it when some shabby Gospel exaltation of dumb trust cancels out our worthy works. We will continue to sing Amazing Grace in church, but we are going to be damn careful when it comes to explaining to the riffraff what it actually means. We will assure them, of course, that God loves them and forgives them, but we will make it quite clear that we expect them to clean up their act before we make any moves to clasp them seriously to our hearts. We do not want whores, chiselers, practising gays, and convicted felons thinking they can just barge in here and fraternize with us, our children, and our grandchildren. Above all, we certainly don’t want any of them standing up there in the pulpit and telling us that God forgives such effrontery. Do too much of that and the church is just going to die. We, the respectable Pharisees, the twelve-hour all day workers, are tired of being trampled on by the Feet Beautiful upon the Mountains. We are resentful at being the butts of some divine joke of grace that says nothing else matters except plain, old, yes-Jesus trust. And we are going to institutionalize our righteous resentment with a constitutional amendment, or a referendum, or something that says the church is not going to be for sinners and gainsayers. We do believe — but what we believe in is largely an ethico-religious construct of our own devising, a system that we desperately hope will make the world safe for democracy, and for the thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent, mildly-sinning sinners like ourselves. The Gospel is a stumbling block, the rejected cornerstone over which we trip. We charge into it with our merit-based ways of being but it won’t budge — it just stands there — firmly unmoving until it breaks our every notion that we must justify our existence — or more importantly, that our neighbors must justify their existence — with meritorious work and conduct. The stumbling block, the scandal of the Gospel, smashes to bits our folly that will not see that God judges nothing else — not goodness, not badness, not anything — except our acceptance of God’s acceptance of the world by dumb trust alone. And so the self-justifying in the world — including an alarmingly high number of Christians who think that being well behaved is more important to God than trusting God’s forgiveness — the self-justifying of the world see Jesus as a threat. The troops are not amused by the prospect of absolutely free salvation. The first instinct of the Pharisees and their friends, after they have smiled indulgently at the preacher’s charmingly easygoing concept of salvation, is to nail Jesus to the wall for knocking the props out from under divine retribution for nasty deeds. We like the law and we will not have anyone messing around with it, thank you very much. Jesus died for the sins of those who killed him — even for the sins of unbelief by which we kill him all over again. God, however, has stacked the deck. It seems that our neighbor is going to be forgiven whether we like it or not. It may even be the case that we’re going to be forgiven. All you or anybody else really needs to do is approach Christ, your only produce being the wide-open hands of a beggar. And we are beggars all. Memorial Eucharist and Celebration Nan Fritschel Click here for printable .pdf format A Benedictine Monk, whose name for the life of me I can't remember, centuries ago said that the attributes of God are truth, goodness, and beauty— and that more souls have been won to God by beauty than by truth and goodness combined and multiplied. How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace. Listen! God's sentinels lift up their voices, together they sing for joy. Break forth into singing, you ruins of Jerusalem, for the Lord has comforted the people and has redeemed Jerusalem. Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; not even Solomon in all his glory was clothed like one of these—and how much more God will clothe you. Consider countless butterflies rising from the grass, enveloping you and your beloved as you make your way through a mountain meadow. See beauty wherever you walk. See the beauty and complexity of nature's forms and delight in being made by God to join with God in creating light, form, color, movement, and meaning out of seeming nothingness. Hear too of God's transcendent loveliness echoed in the sounds of music; delight in poetry, in words that weave bright tapestries of language sounding forth celestial tunings. Hold dear to your heart the beauty of God's diverse peoples, glory in the sound of their languages, celebrate their differing ages, their different ways of loving, their multiple cultures, their very complex lives. Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. Nan's treasure, Nan's heart, was in the beauty that shows forth God. But Nan would not, could not hoard this treasure. Nan's thankful, brimful heart was compelled to share every gift that came from the hand of God. Language, music, art, poetry, food and drink—in celebration and thanksgiving she tuned our ears to hear, focussed our vision, and in the company of good friends old and new ate, drank, and talked around the table until the light faded and evening came. And in thanksgiving and celebration she shared her heart=s deep conviction and proclaimed for everyone to hear and know that all God's children are beloved and beautiful, that all God's children have a place at the table, that all God's children must be fed, clothed, sheltered, educated, and provided with medical care. Nan shared with us the abiding beauty of doing justice, of loving kindness, of walking humbly before our God. And even in your dying Nan, your heart, so captured by the beauty of God, was moved to giving. You helped us to hear in new ways the words and sounds of a hymn and of a prayer we thought we knew—but whose depth we hadn't yet begun to guess. You gave us moments to laugh even in the midst of your pain; you shared your tears and your honesty, and there was great heaven-born beauty in that. You opened your heart and summoned us to your side as you neared the end of your baptismal journey—and there amidst the tubes and the machines you showed us the beauty of the faith that God had created deep within you—even on that last day you bore witness to me that God is good, so you were not afraid. And on that last day, you brought us outdoors—and because of your delight as you lay there upon your death bed, the breeze, the autumn chill, the fading roses, the sounds of creation were more infused with God than ever. And then you dismissed us—it was time for you to be alone in the creation you loved—but now less alone than ever: at peace, and yearning to be with God, you seemed surrounded by the whole host of heaven. As I made ready to leave, I heard you tell Ted I love you so much; then you turned your head, and looked right at me and said, You can never tell someone you love them too often." How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who brings good news, who announces salvation . . . consider the lilies of the field, how they grow . . . where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. Celebrate and give thanks to God. Give thanks to God for Nan and the treasures of her heart. Give thanks to God with Nan, with Nan who now lives in God and in the beauty of God's holiness forever. St. Michael and
All Holy Angels Daniel 10:10B14;
12:1B3 Click here for printable .pdf format There is a proverb that says, AFools rush in where angels fear to tread.@ Well, this morning while the angels stand around picking their wings, I=m going to dash headlong into an area of some growing controversy and tell you that angels are becoming a problem, a rather large problem B recent polls indicate that people seem to be far more attached to angels than they are to God, be that God the Father, God the Son, or God the Holy Spirit. Not only that, there are, apparently, people who don=t even believe in God B but who, nonetheless, believe quite firmly in angels. An interesting little trick B to say the least.But then who can blame them. After all, angels have their very own TV show, ATouched by an Angel.@ Oh, yes, God does appear B if you can say that the angels= testimony near the end of every episode that AGod loves you very much@ is an appearance. Certainly we hear something about God=s grace, but it=s the angels who do all the really hard work while God remains distant B like an old uncle or aunt you once heard about who sends you chocolate at Christmas but otherwise stays safely out of sight and out of mind. Even though Della Reese=s angel character can get to be a bit much now and again, Monica and her angel buddies are, on the whole, much more user-friendly than God, and we don=t have to put up with the inconvenience of picking up the cross and following Christ on the way to Calvary.On the whole, our modern depictions of angels keep us safely away from anything untidy. They =re ohBsoBclean, their halos shine, their feathers are neatly arranged, and they tend to be whiteBskinned and blondCa definite plus in suburbia. The angels of popular conception tend not to lead us to sell all that we have and give to the poor; greeting card angels don=t seem very good at leading us to walk beside those who are homeless; and it doesn=t seem that New Age angels are nudging their adoring multitudes in the difficult and sacrificial ways of justice, mercy, and peace.The reading from Revelation this morning shows us two types of angels: Michael and the angels loyal to God; and Satan, the defiant angel, and those angels that followed him. St. Paul refers to Satan and the fallen angels as the principalities and powers to whom is allotted the administration of the earth =s affairs. St. Gregory of Nyssa writes, in the 4th century that these angels were hurled from heaven because they objected to the creation of humanity. A[T]hey found it absurd, insufferable even, that . . . there should arise a being made in the image and likeness of Gods= own beauty.@ Tradition also holds that the fallen angels were too proud to accept that God would, as the letter to the Hebrews says, become not an angel, but an offspring of Abraham and Sarah. Satan and the fallen angels were further infuriated when they found out that God would raise Jesus in his full humanity to sit at God=s right hand rather than raise an angel to that high position. And so, look out earth and seas, says Revelation, for the fallen angels are full of wrath because they know that in the grand scheme of things their time is short. Apparently they=ll stop at nothingCperhaps they will even dress up in fancy white costumes, with snow white wings and golden halos, blonde hair flowing in the wind, tinkling pretty tunes, and dispensing magic crystals where e=er they go; perhaps they will even have their own television show and their own niche in a trendy boutique on the Boulder Mall.So how do you tell a good angel from a fallen angel Ca holy angel from hell=s angelsCand I don=t mean the kind on motorcycles? First, the message and ministrations of the Holy Angels are for the good, not of one person or a few peopleCbut are for the good of all creation. Gabriel speaks to Mary the Mother of Our Lord; the angel speaks to Joseph, Mary=s companion and Our Lord=s guardian. The angels sing up a storm for scruffy shepherds outside of Bethlehem so that they may be the first to see and worship God incarnate in Jesus. But none of this is just for themCall of this is for the salvation of the whole cosmos. In our first reading, Michael arises to be the protector of the people from whom Jesus will arise; indeed, Michael and the angels will deliver all people whose names are written in the bookCall those who are adopted into God=s chosen family through Holy Baptism.By contrast, it is a fallen angel who offers personal earthly power and glory to Jesus when he is in the desert. But it is the Holy Angels who minister to Jesus in Gethsemane that he may complete his mission on behalf of the whole creation, and a Holy Angel frees Peter from prison, not for his own benefit, but so that he may continue his proclamation of the good news. But no Holy Angels come to rescue either Jesus or Peter, or any of us for that matter, from suffering and the way of the cross. The Holy Angel Gabriel did indeed bring good news to Mary, but no angel rescued Our Lady from bearing the greatest pain any human can know as at the foot of the cross she watched her beloved one slowly suffer and die. The Holy Angels were there, however, on the third day, in and around an open tomb, to bear the mysterious message to the whole creation that death no longer has any power over the sons and daughters of God, for Christ is risen, risen indeed, and no tomb henceforth shall ever separate any of us from the love of God in Christ Jesus Our Lord. The other trait that distinguishes the Holy Angels from the fallen angels is that the Holy Angels worship God night and day. Revelation 4 and Isaiah 6 both tell us of how the seraphic angels each have six wings, each and every wing filled with eyes all around and inside (hence this morning, the peacock feathers with their Aeyes@ in the chancel). With two wings, the seraphim cover their faces, and with two they cover their feet, and with two they fly. And they call to one another and they sing, day and night: Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might; heaven and earth are full of your glory.We do not have to tune into a TV show or otherwise go on any extensive search of these Holy Angels, for they and the whole company of heaven will shortly be united with us as we prepare for Christ =s true body and blood to be present among us, with us, and for us. In the liturgy of the Eucharist we prepare to receive the risen Lord; with angels and archangels, with all the company of heaven, with all the saints, with Nan and with all our beloved who have gone home to God, we praise God=s name and join their unending hymn.Let =s get on with it thenCMichael, Gabriel, Raphael, cherubim, seraphim, thrones, dominions, princedoms, powers, virtues, archangel, angels and the whole company of heaven are waiting to sing with us to the God who loves us all, world without end. AMEN.First
Anniversary of Our Time of Trial Noon, September 11 Click here for printable .pdf format On the eve of Passover each year, our Jewish brothers and sisters in the One God, ask the question, "How is this night different from all others?" We might this day ask nearly that same question: "How is this day different from all others?" or perhaps even, "Is this day different from all others?" One of the people in our St. Paul neighborhood asked me last week those very questions. He spoke eloquently of how his forebears were once besieged by terror and dragged off into exile in a foreign land. He remembered before me that thousands upon thousands of people from his homeland suffered unspeakable cruelty at the hands, not of Islamic extremists, but at the hands of mainstream Christians. He bore witness too that still others of his forebears died by the millions while trying to defend their home and native land against the mostly Christian invaders from across the seas. How is this day different from all others? Is this day different from any others? Over three thousand people, innocents all – as innocent as any of us – died this date, in this land, in that year of Our Lord, 2001. Over three thousand people, innocents all – as innocent as any of us – will also die this very day, this year, in many lands – of starvation and malnutrition – and according to the World Health Organization that is an exceptionally conservative estimate – the reality is most likely much more grim. Most of this day’s dead will be children and mothers who have refused food in the desperate hope that they might save their starving young ones. How is this day different from any other day? In some ways it is no different from any other day on this planet so shadowed over for so long by the evil one and his minions. In too many ways this day is no different in the history of a cruel species that finds it more seductive to march the trampled ditches of violence than to follow the pathways of peace. But this day in some ways, I suspect, is and will be different from the many others or else we would not be here to wait on a word from the Lord. Never before in the history of humankind have so many people on the same day witnessed a singular horror descend in the ways it did that beautiful and sunny mid-September day last year. Never before in human history have so many millions been united on a single day in watching as thousands died before their very eyes. And we and the many did not witness this horror happen once – rather we beheld death over and over and over again, until the day became as a burning brand that seared even the most hearty and stalwart of souls, until the steadiest among us were brought to our knees. In every corner of our lives that day and in the days and weeks to come we relived the fireballs and stood unbelieving or numb as monuments of human strength and greatness and wealth were turned to ashes and dust in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye. Never before have so many been united across the entire planet in bearing witness to the grief, not of one or two, not of one family, clan, or tribe – but to the grief of thousands upon thousands from many families, clans, tribes, languages, religious beliefs, philosophies, color. Never before have so many been so united in knowing the names and seeing the faces of the thousands whose death we all had beheld. Never before has a whole planet stood by helplessly while the Christ-like willingly laid down their lives for those whom they would never know. And all of this at in that year when so many had innocently hoped that the new century, the new millennium would be different from, better than, the immensely cruel days of the closing century of the second millennium of the common era. And all of this in a nation where our technologies and our prosperity had shielded our eyes from the grim realities that are and have been the daily lot of far too many for far too long. I daresay that this day was and is and will remain different from all others – even while too many other days will remain far too tragic for far too many for far longer than we can know. What then shall we say of this day – or perhaps of any tragic day? It is a temptation deep in our souls, embedded perhaps under the layers of our genetic coding, to take and to bend human suffering to the purposes of politics, ideology, hatred, and revenge, to take days such as this and use them to advance the designs of our fallen nature, a nature in bondage to sin, from which we cannot free ourselves. And so it seems good on this different day to forgo words that might advance our own darkened projects. It would be better on this day to hear the words of the One whose only project was, and is, and ever shall be to love the world into wholeness. It would be best this day to turn from our own words and to listen again to the words of the One in whose image, by the grace of God, we are this day and every day being reborn:
|
|
