A Homily for The Presentation of Christ

February 2, 2019

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: Luke 2:29-32

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            On January 3, 1957 four missionaries landed their plane upon a small sand strip in the Curary River in the jungle of Ecuador, some time be for this the young men had sensed a call from the Lord to reach the Huaorani people, who were known for being a particularly violent and relatively unreached people group. They had flown over the village and made initial contact and were hoping to soon make further contact, they knew this calling was dangerous, and perhaps deadly.

            After three days a small group from the Huaorani reticently made contact with the missionaries. They took one of the young man flying on the plane, and at first all seemed peaceable. However, the leaders of the tribe became suspicious, and rightly so, because other outsiders were equally eager to make contact, but this contact was in hopes of taking away their land.

            Soon jealousy over whelmed the leaders of the Huaorani and they planned an attack on the missionaries. At 3 pm on January 8th, the Huaorani made contact again, but this time with the intent of attacking and killing the four men. Shortly after this the missionaries were dead, and fearing retribution the Huaorani torched their village and fled. 

            One of the missionaries names was Jim Elliot – he perhaps is the most well know of the four for a number of reasons but one thing he is remembered for is a short statement he wrote in his journal: “he is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” Elliot and his four friends gave their lives which they knew they could not keep – in order to glorify God, and to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ.   

            Perhaps to some of us this sounds absurd, but this morning we meet another man who is waiting with eager expectations to meet Christ, eager to know Christ, and to see his captive people set free. This morning we meet Simeon the prophet.

            As I was studying and thinking about this passage – I was taken away by the thought of how in Christ’s early childhood narratives, he is barely seen, he is simply an infant given to the will of his earthly parents, and as such – shepherds, magi, angels, his parents, and two prophets become the focus of the narrative. Yet – even in this Christ is glorified, and we come to a deeper understand of who he is as our savior and incarnate Lord.

            We of course know Simeon’s song well as it is sung or recited during Evening Prayer, and we refer to it as the Nunc Dimittis. The song was traditionally used by monks during their last time of prayer of the day. The words from Latin mean “now you dismiss” referring to Simeon’s prayer of “Lord now let your servant depart in peace,” which of course is Simeon saying “now I am ready to die, ready to be with you.”

            The monks use this prayer as a closing song for the day as a part of their intentional reminder to habitually lay their lives down, to habitually die to themselves, which is our calling as well. For the monks of old the end of the day was another call to repent of the sins of that past day, to die to themselves, that come the next morning, if the Lord willed it they may rise to new life.

             He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.

 

            The English translations of Simeon’s song begins with an address to God, using the word “Lord.” However, this is fascinating because the word that is used is not the word typically used when Scripture refers to God the father as Lord, nor as Christ the son. Instead it is a far less common word that is used a mere ten times in the New Testament.

            In almost all other cases the ESV translates it to “master,” one other time it

A Homily for Epiphany 3

January 26, 2019

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: John 4:1-14

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            I remember when I first moved to Arizona, how my skin and my eyes felt incredibly dry, all the time, it felt as though I could feel every single cell in my skin drying out. I remember needing to adjust and be more diligent about drinking water. We probably all still need to be more diligent about this, but coming from the humidity of North Carolina, it was a sudden change for my body to adjust to, and now when I’m in a humid place I always feel damp.

            Living in an arid climate we quickly learn the importance of water to our daily lives, our city council regularly discusses water availability and the effects various policies have on how much water is available to us at citizens. One of the most striking things I noticed when I first moved here is how quickly showers warm up compared to every other place I’ve ever lived, this of course is a wise water saving measure.

            It was striking traveling around Israel how similar the climate is to Arizona. I remember one day driving in on the bus through the area where Jesus undoubtedly traveled, and thinking how I might as well be at home, I’d have the same views driving through the desert. Keeping in mind how dry our land is, we can start to have sympathy to the story we read today. We can understand what it would be like having walked all day and being wearied from our journey. How hot the sun is and how dry the air is. Water, for the weary traveler is therefore a necessity.

            Water plays and interesting role in scripture. As I was reading about it one source noted at least three different ways it is viewed in scripture – first water is the source of chaos, second it is a source of cleansing, and finally, there is of course living water, that is water that brings life.

            I have found this idea that water is the source of chaos as the most interesting. The Israelite have never been known as seafaring people, and so it is not at all surprising that as a culture they came to the conclusion that water, in particularly the sea is a chaotic force, but this was a general view of the ancient near east as well. The gods of water were often viewed as chaotic and even evil.

            We see this portrayed most vividly in the book of Daniel when the evil nations rise out of water. Daniel is saying – these that will come serve not the living God, serve not the God of order, not the God that we gather together this morning to worship, but they serve chaos, they serve evil gods, they will serve themselves, these nations that rise out of water will serve chaos.

            But likewise, this is why it is significant in the creation narrative when God separates the water from the land – separates the chaotic from the tamable. The seas have often captured the heart of man because out of that chaos comes a great sense of adventure, a great promise of riches, a great hope of something new – but also of great danger.

            Where I grew up, many went to sea to make their riches, but not everyone came back, more than one childhood acquaintance went to sea, and never returned. We live in hubris to think that we can tame the sea, but we can just as easily be swept away by it. The sea still conjures for us an idea of chaos – and as such – we are reminded how in scripture the sea of represents that which is untamable.

Just as water can give life, so it can rob men of their lives. For these reasons, when we see Christ walk on water and calm the storms – it is significant – for we are seeing that Christ has the same authority as the father – the authority to tame chaos, to tame power, Christ is more powerful than the forces of chaos.

            But water also plays a cleansing role in scripture. Last w

A Homily for Epiphany II

January 19, 2020

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: Mark 1:1-11

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            Beginnings are an interesting thing, we know this fact because we’ve all started new things, probably several, maybe hundreds, we’ve all set out on new jobs, looked for new homes, moved to new apartments, made new friendships, or even moved to new places in other parts of the world. The beginning can be frightening, and overwhelming, the beginning can be exciting, and hope-filled.

            I remember when I started college, I was just a kid from rural Maine. Now, I never considered where I grew up as being rural, not compared to inland Maine, it wasn’t until I was older and had lived elsewhere and became aware, much to my surprise, that there’s a world outside of Maine, that I became aware that even living 30 minutes outside of Portland, our largest city, at 60,000 people, would be considered rural by most Americans.

            Like all good Mainers, we’d be in bed by 9 pm, and waking up at the crack of dawn, or in the winter well before the sun rose. My life in that respect was simple.

College was different – for the first time I was around people who stayed up past nine, I had the freedom to explore, I had the ability to walk around campus whenever I pleased. It was new, it was exciting and frightening all at once. Beginnings, and change have the propensity to stir in us great emotion.

            I suspect you all know what I mean by that, for we have all started something new.

            And what of St. Mark’s words “the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God.” Is he simply saying “I’m starting to write about Jesus,” or is his word choice more significant than that?

            The saint is saying – this is the start of something new, gather around as I tell you to story of our God who became man, who emptied himself and dwelt among us, not simply for a neat experience but in order to set the captives free and to usher in a new way, a new covenant, to open the heavens so all who would believe would be able to have fellowship with the Father, so that all who believe would be freed from their sin.

            And so – at the center of the Gospel According to St. Mark, and at the center of our gospel reading today stands this very thesis – that Christ has come into the world to enact this new covenant.

            Now, this word gospel has become common place in our Christian vocabulary. On our table sits a gospel book, that is a book with the words of the four evangelists, we know the first four books of the New Testament as the gospels, we say I’m reading the Gospel According to St. Mark right now, or I’m telling my friend the gospel. And these are all very good things, but we’ve lost the meaning of the word. I have found from time to time it sort of becomes ill-defined.

            Gospel means good news – but more than good news, it means good news about victory in war, or rather that’s how it was used in the secular context and even in the Greek translation of the Old Testament, referred to as the Septuagint. And what is this good news of victory over? It is Christ’s victory for us over sin, for even in this moment that St. Mark is describing Christ is already on his path to victory.

            We read in the Revelation of St. John that in the last great battle as Jesus rides out to war he is dressed in victory clothing. Already as Christ commences his public ministry is victory confirmed, already, even as we read this morning, he is turning his face towards calvary, already, is he read to take upon himself the pain, and anxiety, the horribleness of our sins, to die for them that we might live. Already in the beginning – his victory is being declared.

            But it is not merely at Christ’s birth or at the beginning of his public

A Homily for Epiphany I

January 12, 2019

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: Matthew 2:1-12

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            Shortly after the rise of the puritan movement in England and America, a movement known as the German Pietists arose in mainland Europe. Out of this group came what are now known as the Moravians. Like their English counter parts, the German pietists were interested in personal holiness and a robust pursuit of knowing God.

One of the leaders of the Pietists was a man named Count Nikolaus Von Zinzendorf. His adherence to holiness and the pursuit of the intimate relationship with Jesus helped the Wesley’s develop Wesleyan theology, which lead to the formation of the Methodist church. However the thing many remember him for more than anything else is the following phrase:

            Preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten.

            This little sentence is perhaps the most beautiful prescription for the Christian. We are not called to be concerned about our brand, to be concerned about the number of bodies we have in church, to be concerned about what kind of car we drive, how cool we are, or whether we have the right friends, no we are called to preach the gospel at all times and in all places. We are called to go out, to make disciples, and to bring them into the covenant of Christ through baptism.

            We are called to share with our friends, neighbors, and loved ones what Christ is doing in our lives and what he has done in our lives, we are called to share how is redeeming us from sin, drawing us away from those things that destroy our souls, how Christ has washed us clean from the sin which we were born with, how Christ has healed us from our deepest pain and giving us our deepest joy.

            We are called to unashamedly share our lives, to show the ways in which Christ has healed us and is healing us, to show the love of Christ to those in our community that so need love.

            Unless Christ returns we will all face death – now Count Zinzendorf is not saying – forget about your loved ones who have died, he is not saying you need to not remember them. Please don’t hear that. Rather – his sentiment is so wonderfully summarized by Rich Mullins, the faithful and thoroughly sincere early nineties Christian singer when he wrote:

 

If my life is motivated by my ambition to leave a legacy, what I’ll probably leave as a legacy is ambition. But if my life is motivated by the power of the Spirt in me, if I live with the awareness of the indwelling Christ, if I allow His presence to guide my actions, to guide my motives, those sort of things, That is the only time I think we really leave a great legacy.

 

            In other words: preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten.

 

Our calling is that when we go to our eternal rest – that we are forgotten, not because we are so forgettable, but because Christ became so important to us – that all else fades in our lives. Instead of being motivated the self – we are motivated by a deep desire to glorify God in all we do. Instead of being motivated by getting as much treasure in the here and now – we store our treasure in eternity – we make our concern for eternal things.

            I remember for some time “developing one’s brand” was a rather popular sentiment, most peculiarly with pastors – people wanted to show off who they were as individuals, and make sure everything was presented perfectly and painted a unique picture.

            This was troubling to say the least.

            Yesterday, as the class I was attending this past week wrapped up, I was chatting with the professor. I think it will be the last class I’ll have with him, and as we lamented this, I asked him if he would survive without me to blurt out random thoughts in the middle of his lecture. He said that he suspected someone else wou

A Homily for Christmas II

January 5, 2020

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Text: Matthew 2:19-23

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen

 

            Some of you know about my little adventure this past week. My hope and plan had been to go for a long drive and visit a couple of places around Arizona that I am yet to see, to have some time to think, and relax a little after the busy-ness of the holiday season. I often find these drives peaceful, life giving, relaxing, and joy-filled. They give me time to listen to music and think about life. I had all these lofty and romanticized visions of my time away, to draw nearer to God, and find some quietness.

            The Lord and my car conspired to make different plans for me – and if I am honest, what I really needed to be reminded to rest in the Lord always.

            As I got close to my first stop my battery light came on, as a good millennial the first thing I did was google what this could mean and google faithfully told me that it was most likely my alternator dying. Having had more than one alternator die on me, once in inner city Chicago, I knew that this would not be the fun day I had envisioned. Being the resolutely independent person that I am, I turned around and started to drive home. As time passed more and more lights on my dashboard came on, telling me that, in all likelihood my battery was draining.

            As I got close to the 17, I decided it would be unwise for me to see what would happen if I pressed on, so I stopped and called AAA and waited. I sat in my car reading, trying to relax.

            As the time passed I started to get more panicky. “How am I going to do these things I had planned?” “Wait, alternators are expensive, yikes!” “I had such a perfect budget for this month, there goes that!”

            Somewhere in that wild train of thought, I also realized the Lord was calling me to simply trust him, trust that everything will be okay, and be vulnerable and ask my friends for help. I’d like to say that after all the ways I’ve seen God’s faithfulness in scripture and in life, I am amazing at trusting Him, and after experiencing the incredible love of this community and the friends I’ve made around town I’m better at asking for help, but I am more often than not bad at both of these things.

            Yet God calls us to depend fully upon him. So this question confronts us, we are asked, time and again – will we trust God with he little things? Will we trust God with the big things? Will we trust God with our finances? Our health? Our friendships and relationships? Will we respond if God calls us to move across the county, across the state, across the country? Across the world?

            As the new year begins – these are the good questions to ask ourselves. Sure, it is good to resolve to lose some weight, to be better with our money in 2020 than in 2019, to spend more time with family or friends, or to delight more deeply in God’s great creation, or whatever resolutions of betterment we have made – but as Christians one of the chief things we need to ask ourselves is are we faithfully trusting the Lord in all of our lives? With every aspect or are these just fanciful ideas in our mind?

            In some ways, I think it is easier to trust God to do big amazing things like moving us into other cultures or across the country or the world, but harder to trust God when we hit a little bump in the road, like a dead alternator.

            I would like to be able to tell you that I handled my little adventure with all the grace in the world, I’d like to say that as the panic swelled in me, I took a deep breath, smiled and said “yes, Lord, I know you’ve got this,” sat back and read my book while I waited for the tow truck. But instead I very much felt the sentiment of St. Theresa of Avail when she penned “Lord, if this is ho

A Homily for Advent 3

December 15, 2019

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

This past week a beautiful friend of mine went to her eternal rest. I’ve been thinking a lot about her the past few days. She was like very few others I have known in this life. She radiated joy and kindness with the way in which she lived. There are few people who I remember the first time I met them, and yet, my memory of meeting her is vivid and one of my most pleasant, and laughter filled first encounters.

She saw God’s love and proclaimed it gently and kindly to her husband, her children, her family, and her friends in this world that is often wild and unkind.

            Her death, was not a surprise, in many ways it was more surprising that she lived as long as she did, perhaps, this was simply due to the fact that so many held her up in prayer. For several weeks ago she was given two weeks to live, and yet she pressed on, and loved well even in that. But, finally, that awful curse of Adam came for her, and all who loved her, and love her family wept.

Still, as well as she lived, she died equally well.

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

The death of a saint is one of those odd things, for our lives are richer for having known them, their joy, their kindness, their wisdom, their peace encourages us, calls to us to run harder in the race that is in front of us, to live more boldly for Christ. So, when we finally say good-bye to them, we can’t help but to cry, but there’s a joy too, for we know they’ve been set free from their sin, set free from their bondage, from the pains of this world, and set free from their corrupted body that is breaking down, that they may look forward to the recreated, and renewed body of eternity.

My friend now rests in the glory of God, the glory of God which was lost in the fall. It is this glory that we all look forward to regaining when our race is finally over. But for now:

rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

            I tell you of my friend in the hopes that I may honor her one last time, for she lived a beautiful life, and left behind many whom she touched and blessed, I tell you of her because she did something so few of us are good at doing. In the face of incredible adversity – she rejoiced, for she was righteous in Christ. I know that she was not perfect but Christ resided in her life and in her his love abounded well and few who met her could deny this. I tell you of my friend, because I hope that just as she encouraged me and hundreds of others, that she may encourage you as well.

 

            This Sunday is commonly called Gaudete Sunday, or sometimes Rose Sunday, or if you feel punchy as I sometimes do, pink Sunday, but I think Gaudete is most appropriate. It is named that for the traditionally used introit, or opening Psalm, that is found in many older liturgies. The introit has mostly been replaced with an opening hymn in reformed and more modern liturgies. However, I thought it would be wise if today we read that introit for our Psalm today which starts with Gaudete – or in the English Rejoice,

Rejoice in the Lord, oh you righteous.

            This command to rejoice stands in sharp contrast to the opening of our gospel lesson in which we learn that John the Baptist is in prison. While there are some who read of John’s request of his disciples not as fear in the face of death, but as equipping them for the trials they will face after their death. It seems like a better reading is that he was wondering, pondering if Jesus really was the Christ.

Remember last week? When we heard of John who jumped for joy in his moth’s womb at the coming of Christ? This is the same John we read of this week as he approach his death. It is the same John who served God, and glorified him in all he did, the same John wh

A Homily for Advent 2

All Saints Anglican Church, Prescott, AZ

December 8, 2019

 

Text: Luke 1:26-56

 

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

            One of the things that I truly love about our town are the Christmas time festivities. The city really does pull out all the stops, it is beautiful, and amazing, and we are so fortunate and rich to live in such a place.

            Last night, I stood on the court house square with a handful of friends, and probably several thousand others in the drizzling rain, as a man read the same passage of the Gospels According to St. Luke which we read this morning, the reading last night was intertwined with many of the children from the town singing classic, beautiful Christmas carols.

            This moment stood in stark contrast to two other events this past week. The first was some Christmas movie that I put on the background while I cleaned, to be honest, I can’t remember what it was, or even the plot of the movie, but I remember thinking about the third thing that happened because, although the movie was about Christmas, it had nothing to do with Christ, it had nothing to do with what we will celebrate here in a couple short weeks.

            The other event was more shocking, and more interesting. This past week we had a guest lecturer visit our class who works at a camp, he was discussing the generation that some are calling Generation Z, those young people who are under the age of 20 or so. It seems that at least some consider them to be the first truly-post Christian generation. That does not mean that there aren’t Christian in that generation but it means that the majority of them have never been exposed to any genuine Christian teachings.

One of the litmus tests the lecturer, who was about my age, was giving for this was the fact that he and his peers grew up watching that great Peanuts Christmas Special in which Linus gets up and reads this same passage which was read last night, and again this morning and reminds everyone what Christmas is all about. In this special Linus wraps up with this:

            “For unto you is born this day, in the city of David a savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace good will toward men!’

“… that’s what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown.”

            New secular Christmas entertainment now rarely has anything to do with Christ, and the exposure to the gospels is so very limited. However, I do not wish for you to grow despondent. Our reaction can be indignation, or we can have hope. I was talking to a friend about this later on, and we agreed that one of two things may happen – God may kindle in the hearts of the people a spiritual awakening, which will be beautiful and we will get to see, or Jesus may return, which will be beautiful and we will finally be free from our sins – so do not be sorrowful about these things – but pray earnestly for a spiritual awakening, pray that we would love well, even those who are not like us, for the need for healing power of Christ is great.

 

I remember some time ago, I was attending a Bible study at a friends church. My friend was an peaceable chap, but rather more theologically liberal than me. Still, I enjoyed his company, and he was always good for an interesting conversation. I found myself talking to a woman I had never met or seen around. That evening we were discussing the Nicene Creed and out of the blue she said “well, I mean no one actually believes this stuff, it’s just something that’s nice to say.”

I was rather shocked by the statement, I was young, and it was one of the first times I was exposed to someone who flat out denied the creeds