Mt. 8:5-13

The 1st story in today’s Gospel was the Centurion asking Jesus to heal his servant. It is an example of faith which I think should be familiar to most of you.

But now I want to share some thoughts about the importance of faith which came to me as I was reading a book about a very different kind of setting.  That book is The Boys in the Boat, by Daniel J. Brown. It is the story of nine students at the University of Washington, Seattle, preparing for the 1936 Berlin Olympics.

The story of those young men was especially poignant to me because, growing up in Eastern Washington, I was familiar with the places where most of them lived. I was 15 years younger than those boys, but I was familiar with the events they lived through and the places where they lived them.

The only significant differences for me were that before reading about it I knew little or nothing about racing shells and the kind of rowing they did as a team, and the places where they competed in this country, and also the details of their experience in Berlin in 1936.  But I did know something about rowing small boats.

Faith and mutual confidence came into the story as the team neared the goal of their qualification for the Olympic Games.

The most significant advice given to the members of that team came from the man who built the racing shells for the university.  From his boyhood at Eton College through his years in the athletic department of the University of Washington, George Pocock observed rowers and shared his knowledge with them.  It was from him that the boys on that team learned the importance of “keeping their minds in the boat” and of having complete faith and confidence in one another.  Those were essential for maintaining rhythm.

Even though the words Church, or God, or Jesus, did not occur in the book, as I read it I felt it was an authentic description of Faith and mutual confidence.

As I read about that my mind went to the importance of keeping those same principles in our minds as we each do our part in fulfilling our vocation as monks of the Society of St. John the Evangelist. Since then I have become more aware than ever of how we sing together and pause together.  The boys were told to keep their minds in the boat.  We fulfill that when we keep our minds on the way in which we live as monks, when we have faith and trust in God and mutually love and respect one another.

For the rest of you; do you live with an awareness of keeping your minds on your duty towards God and towards one another?  Do you share faith, and have confidence in one another?

2 Kings 19: 9-21, 31-36

Psalm 48

Matthew 7: 6, 12-24

A number of years ago I was in Jerusalem. A small group of us had made our way from St. George’s College into the Old City. We had ended up at the Church of the Resurrection and after spending some time there, were on our way back to the College. Now I had walked to and from the Church and College dozens of times before, and depending on the route I took, would often pass the Mission of the Russian Orthodox Church, which is literally just around the corner from the Church of the Resurrection. The grey steel doors of the Russian Mission were always closed and locked, in spite of a sign posted by the door telling you what hours it was open. It was never open. It was never open, at least until that day.

 

Now I have been in Old City of Jerusalem often enough to know that posted signs telling when a holy site will be open are mostly never true. Holy sites, especially the Orthodox ones, are often shut when they are supposed to be open, but only occasionally open when they are supposed to be shut. Because of that, over the years I have developed a rule of thumb: if there is a holy site that you are interested in seeing, if it is open when you pass it, go in, if even only for a few minutes. It may never be open again when you next pass by.

 

Walking into the Mission of the Russian Orthodox Church in the Old City was like stepping back in time. The walls were lined, not just with icons, but with photographs and paintings of various members of the Russian royal family. It was as if the Russian Revolution and the ensuing Communist era had never taken place. You almost expected the Czar to appear from around the corner at any moment!

 

But the real treasure of the Russian Mission is a part of the city wall that predates the current wall of the Old City. What makes it fascinating is that the wall contains a small opening, a little bigger than a person which would allow people to go into and out of the city when the gates were shut. This opening would be easily defended in case of attack, and just as easily opened to allow a person to pass through.

 

According to the Russian Mission, it was an opening like this that Jesus was referring to when he spoke of the eye of the needle.

 

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven.[1]

 

Having squeezed my way through this narrow opening in the city wall, I can assure you that it would be impossible for a camel, even if not carrying anything, to manage the same.

 

Scripture is full of reminders that a life of faith is not an easy option. We are told as much today. Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who will find it.[2]

 

It seems odd that the life which Jesus invites us to follow him in, should be such a hard one. But then the very one who invites us to deny [ourselves] and take up [our] cross and follow[3] is the very one

 

who though he was in the form of God,did not regard equality with

God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself,taking the

form of a slave,being born in human likeness. And being found

in human form, he humbled himselfand became obedient to the point

of death — even death on a cross.[4]

 

The paradox of the good news of the Gospel is that only those who remember that they are but dust, and to dust they shall return, are capable of accepting the presence of eternal life in each passing moment and receiving ever fresh the good news of hope[5].

 

We brothers discover this paradox in the vows we take at profession. Just as the disciples found riches in the following of Jesus fo[...]

Feast of St Basil the Great

1 Corinthians 2: 6-13

Psalm 139: 1-9

Luke 10: 21-24

Those of you who have worshipped with us for any length of time will no doubt have spent some time gazing at our windows. Made by the Connick Studios here in Boston in the late 1940’s they are quite distinctive in their use of colours, especially reds, blues and greens. Having lived with these windows for nearly 30 years, I now notice Connick windows whenever I go into a church that has them.

The windows here in the chapel follow a number of themes. In the Lady Chapel the five lancet windows depict the rosary. Read horizontally each of the bottom, middle and upper sections show the Joyful, Sorrowful and Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary. The back Rose Window shows in the bottom section images of the Nativity and in the upper section the Twelve Ranks of Angels and in the centre medallion, the Coronation of the Virgin. Over by the door that leads out into the cloister is a window depicting St. Jean Vianney, Patron Saint of Parish Priests and Confessors. That window is located there, because in the days when confessions were heard here in a confessional, that was located near that door. The windows in the St. John’s Chapel show the vision of St. John from the book Revelation. The two windows by the High Altar are of the Virgin and the Beloved Disciple standing at the foot of the cross. The windows of St. Luke and St. Joseph here by the door to the Guest House were given by the workmen who built the chapel and are known as the Workmen’s Windows. If you haven’t looked at them before do so, as you’ll find the various tradesmen shown, including my favourite, a plumber trying to fix a leaky tap.

But it is the windows above us, in the clerestory, the ones most difficult to see, that are the defining windows in this chapel, at least for me. Installed in the late 1940’s they show, beginning with Antony of Egypt and ending with Father Benson, the significant founders of monasticism from the third to the nineteenth century. Each window shows a particular monastic founder, and then in the bottom section of the panel there is a small image of the individual, and part of their story. So with Antony we have him in conversation with St. Paul, the first hermit, thereby bringing together the two strands of monasticism, the hermit life and the communal life. In the last window we have Father Benson praying the midday Office of None at the Taj Mahal reminding us, not just of his journey to India in 1891, but his cherished dream of being a missionary there. He wrote of that visit I walked to the Taj. It has been called a dream in marble. Indeed, it was once the dream of [my] life to see it. Sometimes dreams are realized more easily than realities.[1]

But the window that attracts our attention tonight is the third one, the window of Saint Basil the Great. Basil was born in the year 330 in what is now central Turkey. While he lived, at least by our standards, a relatively short life, dying at the age of 50, his influence on the church has been profound. He was born into a Christian family of wealth and distinction and amazingly his grandfather is regarded as a martyr, and his grandmother, mother, father, sisters and two brothers are all celebrated as saints of the Church. That’s an entire family who are saints! We celebrate the feast of his sister Macrina, who had a profound influence on Basil’s life and theology, on 19 July.

Basil was first educated in law and rhetoric but at the age of about 26 had a spiritual awakening. He wrote that I had wasted much of my life on follies and spent nearly all of my youth in vain labours, and devotion to the teachings of a wisdom that God had made foolish. Suddenly, I awoke as out of a deep sleep. I beheld the wonderful light of the Gospel truth, and I recognized the nothingness of the wisdom of the princes of this world.[2] For the rest of his life Basil was consumed by a search for that which no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor h[...]

What is striking about the Centurion is that in spite of all his power and authority, he is in touch with his humanity. He knows he has limits and that at least in this one instance, he is powerless. This is something that has brought him to his knees. And so he hands the situation over to someone whom he knows to be more powerful than himself. He offers his helplessness to Jesus and says, “….but only speak the word, and let my servant be healed.”

The Body and Blood of Christ in heaven, in the consecrated bread and wine and in human hearts is one and the same. We expose our blindness when we perform reverences before altars, tabernacles, monstrances and such and fail to see and honor Christ present in our neighbor. The same reverence is due them. And didn’t Christ himself on that last night also genuflect before them and wash their feet?

Bede the Venerable is honored as the first Historian of the Church in Great Britain, having written The Ecclesiastical History of the English People, giving the history of Christianity in England from 597 to 731 A.D. He also wrote about the lives of some of the saints of his period.

Proverbs 8:14, 22-31/Psalm 8/Romans 5:1-5/John 16:12-15

Today we celebrate an idea—an idea that represents our best understanding of the mystery and paradox of God: the Holy Trinity.  There is one and only one God; and this God is a trinity of persons.

There’s a delightful poem about the Trinity called “The Creed of St. Athanasius”.  Whoever wrote it (it wasn’t St. Athanasius) probably didn’t mean to write delightful poetry, but I do find it both delightful and poetic. Here are a few lines from the Creed of St. Athanasius:

“… we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity; Neither confounding the Persons; nor dividing the Essence. For there is one Person of the Father; another of the Son; and another of the Holy Spirit. But the Godhead of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, is all one; the Glory equal, the Majesty coeternal. Such as the Father is; such is the Son; and such is the Holy Spirit. The Father uncreated; the Son uncreated; and the Holy Spirit uncreated. The Father unlimited; the Son unlimited; and the Holy Spirit unlimited. The Father eternal; the Son eternal; and the Holy Spirit eternal. And yet they are not three eternals; but one eternal. As also there are not three uncreated; nor three infinites, but one uncreated; and one infinite. So likewise the Father is Almighty; the Son Almighty; and the Holy Spirit Almighty. And yet they are not three Almighties; but one Almighty. So the Father is God; the Son is God; and the Holy Spirit is God. And yet they are not three Gods; but one God. So likewise the Father is Lord; the Son Lord; and the Holy Spirit Lord. And yet not three Lords; but one Lord… And in this Trinity none is before, or after another; none is greater, or less than another. But the whole three Persons are coeternal, and coequal. So that in all things, as aforesaid; the Unity in Trinity, and the Trinity in Unity, is to be worshipped…”

There’s something about this that I find delightful—is there something a little Lewis Carroll-y about it, something a little “Alice in Wonderland” 1000 years early? I wonder if God may be smiling at this. But it’s the best we poor creatures can do to try to explain the mystery. We can only speak of God in poetic language and in awareness of the limitations of our words and concepts.  And yet our limited words and concepts have a way of leading us through and beyond to that which is ineffable, inexpressible in words—like music, in a way. And, as it happens, Jesus taught mainly in parables, that is, in metaphoric, poetic language.  Even his actions can be read as parables or metaphors pointing beyond themselves—the calming of the sea, for example—or the Cross. Besides being something Jesus did, the Cross may be the greatest of all parables.

We speak of God as best we can because we want to, for some reason.  But the fuller truth lies somewhere beyond whatever words we utter and beyond the grasp of our minds.

(The Athanasian Creed, by the way, is not in the poetry section of the Book of Common Prayer, but in a section called “Historical Documents of the Church” toward the back of the book.)

It’s so easy to get lost in all our words about God and tangled up in the abstractions of theology. It’s not bad to be lost and tangled in abstraction once in a while, but in doing that we may overlook the most important thing about the Christian understanding of God: God is not an abstraction; God is personal, and we believe God is revealed in very specific, concrete, fleshly, human terms.

The masculine gender issues aside (for today), one thing key to our understanding of God is that the language of the Holy Trinity is very human and very personal. “Father” and “son” are unapologetically personal, human terms.  God is not an impersonal “force”, like in the Star Wars movies. We do speak of the creative power of God, the animating energies of the Divine, but, paradoxically, there is also about God an essentially personal quality: flesh, blood, laughter, tears.

This fundam[...]

The feast we are celebrating today is distinctive from other feasts in the Church’s calendar.  On this day we do not revere a particular saint or recall an event from the biblical narrative, as we do on so many other occasions.  Instead, this feast day points us to a specific date in the history of Anglicanism – June 9, 1549, the feast of Pentecost – when the Book of Common Prayer was introduced in the Church of England. It draws us back to the time of the English Reformation and the brief reign of Edward VI, son of Henry VIII, and to an event which set the direction and course of Anglicanism for centuries to come.

Why are this date and this particular event so important as to warrant a feast day of their own?  What cause do they give us today for celebration?  I might suggest three treasures this feast holds for us: First, it is a celebration of our faith.  Second, it is a celebration of our unity.  And third, it is a celebration of our mission in the world.

Anglican faith is, in many ways, distinctive from other expressions of Christian believing.  Anglican faith is primarily expressed through worship, unlike other Christian traditions which often look to ancient creeds or confessions as the source of their identity.  Some of you might know that I was raised in a predominantly DutchCalvinist denomination, the Christian Reformed Church.  Churches in the Reformed tradition, like the CRC, find inspiration and guidance in the Heidelberg Catechism, a document which dates from 1563.  The Heidelberg Catechism is conveniently divided into 52 sections, called “Lord’s Days,” which contain questions and answers about a range of theological ideas.  In my childhood, it was the preacher’s practice to elaborate on one of these “Lord’s Days” each Sunday morning, usually for about 30 minutes!  The Heidelberg Catechism, along with the Belgic Confession and the Canons of Dort, were the statements of faith on which the Dutch Calvinist tradition was built.  These historic documents articulated for us what we believed.

Anglicanism is different.  Although we affirm our faith in the words of the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed, our faith is expressed, first and foremost, in our worship.  There is a Latin phrase for this: lexorandi, lexcredendi, which, loosely translated, means “the law of praying [is] the law of believing.”  It refers to the conviction that prayer shapes belief, that liturgy forms theology.  Anglicans express their faith through their worship.  If someone were to ask you, “What do Anglicans believe?” the best answer might be to invite them to join in our worship.  Our common prayer and worshipshape and express the faith of Anglicans more than doctrinal statements and creeds.

Today’s celebration of the First Book of Common Prayer is a celebration of that principle.  It is an affirmation that, for us, the worship and praise of God, the glorification of God, must always be at the center.  Not our own selves, not our work, not our causes, not even our friends and colleagues…but GOD.  That is what it means to be “orthodox.”  The word orthodox comes from the Greek compound orthósand dóxa, the “rightful glory” – not so much the rightful belief, but the rightful glorification or worship, of God. Orthósplus dóxa – it’s all about God, our rightful worship and glorification of God.  It is from this that our theology arises.

The First Book of Common Prayer, then, along with its subsequent editions and variations, offeredus a way to order our worship of God and to express our faith.  We are a liturgical church, and we celebrate God with words and forms drawn from our rich history.  These words and forms were drawn together in 1549 by “a commission of learned bishops and priests,” but “the format, substance, and style of the Prayer Book were primarily the work of Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury (from) 1533-1556.”[i]  Cranmer and the commission drew on a number of existing resources, simplifying them and ordering them to make [...]

The gift of the Spirit at Pentecost then did not undo or reverse the story of Babel. Rather the gift of the Spirit at Pentecost healed the story of Babel, for the gift given was a gift of comprehension that healed the confusion, jealousy, division and even fear of Babel.

Jn 17:20-26

As we draw near the Feast of Pentecost it is a time for us to think deeply about the gifts of the Holy Spirit given at Pentecost and what they mean for us as members of the Church. 

Jesus in his discourse at the Last Supper promised that an Advocate would be given the disciples.  He did not say much then.  We know that in those words he was giving his disciples the promise of the Holy Spirit. Through their words it is given to us. 

Just after the discourse in John’s Gospel is finished comes the prayer of Jesus to God the Father, Jesus’ High Priestly Prayer (Jn 17).  The Gospel read today is part of this prayer. That prayer is primarily about the Glory shared by the Father and the Son. Considering what is written later about the Gift of the Holy Spirit given at Pentecost I have no doubt that the glory shared between the Father and the Son is also shared with the Holy Spirit in the fullness of the Trinity. If we can perceive it that glory is, in some way, shared with us through the Apostles’ ministry.

More about the gifts of the Spirit is found in Paul’s letters (e.g. Gal. 5:22ffthe fruits of the Spirit) and in other letters of the Apostolic Age.

Other examples of the gifts of the Holy Spirit are found in the Creeds of the Church and in the writings of the Fathers of the Early Church, in the prayers of the Liturgy of Holy Baptism, and in the ancient hymn, Veni Creator Spiritus, used at ordinations and other ceremonies that mark changes in the lives of those who respond to the call to God’s service. 

Some of those gifts of the Spirit are seen in the prayer just after a Baptism;“sustenance in the Holy Spirit,  an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love God, and the gift of joy and wonder in all God’s works.”  (BCP p.308)          

When we pray for renewal of the gifts of the Spirit within us, it is not that the gifts are to be made anew.  It is a prayer for our perception of the gifts of the Spirit to be renewed and refreshed within us.  Our perception of God’s gifts and God’s glory can be renewed again and again.

In his high priestly prayer Jesus prayed that the disciples might also know unity in the glory that God gave to him. 

As the Apostles of Jesus passed it on to us we also can find unity with God in the ministries God gives to each of us.            

In what ways can you pray that your perception of God’s gifts may be sharpened and renewed?