The New Faithful Archive: Sermons and Syllabi

A Homily For Thanksgiving...

2007-11-16T08:23:00.001-08:00

From November, 2005:

There’s an old story about an old, retired bishop of the Episcopal Church who went with his wife to visit his children and grandchildren for Thanksgiving.

It was the night before, and the grandkids were running wild through the house. Preparations were being made around the kitchen table, and the house was filled with the sort of clamor one would expect on the night before Thanksgiving.

The old bishop sat down in a nice comfortable recliner and cracked a day-old newspaper. His pipe was full, and he was just about to light it when his five-year-old grandson leapt in front of him.

The boy was dressed in a costume that had clearly been produced that very day in a kindergarten classroom.

Construction paper, brown fabric, Elmer’s glue, and some paper mache were the makings of black belt with a huge buckle, a blunderbuss, an enourmous hat with the same large buckle.

“Grandpa, Grandpa, look!”

The bishop let out a grunt, with his pipe between his teeth.

“Why are you dressed as the enemy?” he grunted.

The boy stammered, slowly turning to cry, surprised by the response.

This story, I think quite well, illustrates an uneasiness which Anglicans have with the traditions of Thanksgiving.

For on a cold November day in 1621 on the shores of Plymouth, the Puritans met with members of the Wampanoag tribe for a meal together. They have been glorified throughout the years as a sort of shining example of religious pluralism, and the pioneering American spirit.

The Puritans, as history has it, were anything but freedom-loving, religiously tolerant.

They left England because of Anglicanism – the Elizabethan settlement sort of Anglicanism.

Among the things they hated were:

Organs.
Surplices.
Crosses.
Vestments of all kinds.
The Book of Common Prayer.
The use of rings in weddings.
And worst of all – they hated beautiful churches, and most especially – stained glass windows.

A number of my ancestors gathered on that cold Massachusetts day, and if they knew that one of their own would some day be dressed as I am now – in the “rags of popery” – they would not be pleased.

And, as history has it, they weren’t so friendly with the Indians as we like to think.

Historians have presented us with an alternative, a more Anglican approach.

On December 4th, 1619, 38 members of the Stanford Company came to Berkeley, Virginia where their first official act was the celebration of the Holy Eucharist according to the rites prescribed by the Book of Common Prayer.

Captain John Woodleaf wrote:
"Wee ordaine that the day of our ships arrivall at the place assigned for plantacon in the land of Virginia shall be yearly and perpetually keept holy as a day of thanksgiving to Almighty God."

Of course, less than a year later, they had all been wiped out by Typhoid fever, and so as the saying goes – “it is the winners who write the history books.”

The tradition of keeping Thanksgiving largely died out until 1863, in the midst of the Civil War, when Abraham Lincoln wrote the following in a presidential decree:

“The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God.”

And later…

“I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to his tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.”

Notice that thing of which Mr. Lincoln is magnificently aware:

That we are prone to forget the source from which blessings come, but that some are so extraordinary that even the hardest of hearts is softened to perceive the ever-watchful providence of Almighty God.

As it turns out, thankfulness and thanksgiving are not monopolized by religious factions, or by nationalistic enterprise in the midst of civil war, but are rather quite human, and thus it is the disposition of the Christian to give thanks.

But what is the means of this thanksgiving?

How ought we to do it?

The first means is remembrance.

Upon their departure from Egypt, God commands the people to remember the day itself with a prescribed fast of eating unleavened bread for seven days, with the seventh day being a feast to the Lord. There is a prescribed meal of lamb, and a prescribed format for that meal.

The whole point is that the people remember that they were once slaves, and that they are now free, not for the end which is freedom itself, but for the freedom to worship God as He commands.

It is a significant part of Jewish thought about remembrance in that a past event is made present.

You may know this quite well.

Tomorrow, when you sit around the dinner table and remember the blessings of God, you will make is blessings present and even new again. They may even be more clear.

And so, Jesus reinstitutes the Paschal Feast in the Eucharist with the command – “Do this in remembrance of me.”

And in the Eucharist, He makes known His very self and Passion again, He makes a past event a present reality. The word in the Greek is anamnesis.

The way to think about anamnesis, or remembrance, is this:

I cannot re-do what Jesus has done in His Death and Resurrection, but it is just as real now as it was on Calvary, the fact that it has happened does not lessen its reality, but I say as He did “This is my Body” because He says it to us continually, presenting Himself to us in sacrifice.

Which leads us to the second means of Thanksgiving, which is sacrifice.

The Old Testament commends sacrifice as a means to remembrance and thanksgiving.

You may think it odd, but think about it this way.

If I am a Jewish priest, I stand at the altar with my knife to the throat of a bull, and I think about the sins I have committed in the past year, and in that act I consecrate them, I make them holy before God. I cannot change the fact that I have committed them, or that I they have been committed at all, but I can do the holy thing – I can sacrifice them.

In the same way the Jewish High Priest on the Day of Atonement places his hands on the head of a goat, placing the sins of the nation on the head of the goat. The goat is not killed, but forced to wander the wilderness, as the sins of the people are made holy by their disappearance.

It is also worth mentioning that it is a prayer of Thanksgiving that makes something holy. A priest does not simply bless that which he is blessing, he gives thanks for it, acknowledging that God has given it and that he is thankful for it. That makes the object holy.

And so, St. Paul counsels us in the Letter to the Romans, ending the 11th Chapter and beginning the 12th:

“For who has known the mind of the Lord,
or who has been his counselor?"
[35] "Or who has given a gift to him
that he might be repaid?"
[36] For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory for ever. Amen.

I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”

Thus, he makes things very clear.

God gives to us gifts which cannot be repaid. As St. James writes: “Every good and perfect gift is from above.”

This is all very shocking to us, as debt-ridden, buy now – pay later junkies, but it stands that the gifts of God cannot be repaid – they are free and without strings.

And from Him and to Him are all things.

That is why it is the counsel of the Apostle Paul that we, in thanks to God, offer the only thing we can offer – our own selves, our souls and bodies to Him, that we “do the holy thing” and consecrate our selves to His service.

And that is done most perfectly in the supreme act of Christian Thanksgiving, that Act which is Thanksgiving itself – the Holy Eucharist. By the way, if you didn’t know this before, the word Eucharist means Thanksgiving, but a very special kind of thanksgiving.

At the altar, God and man come together. He remembers us and we remember Him. He gives Himself to us, and we give ourselves to Him, and it is in the very person of the Incarnate Lord that this union is made most intimate. It is the Lord Jesus Christ who is at the center of this offering.

It is through Him that God remembers us and knows us as His own people. It is through Jesus that we remember the loving kindness of our God.

We are not, in this act of Eucharist, repaying God. He cannot be repaid. We are merely giving Him what is rightfully His – our very selves.

By this act of remembrance and sacrifice, we give thanks unto God for the innumerable benefits of His self-offering to us.

It is this meal which we keep, not once a year, but daily.

It is this meal which is so important if we are to gain intimacy with God and His Son Jesus Christ.

It is this meal which pierces even the most cold, hard heart, making it newly aware of the blessings of God.

Therefore, my dear friends, enjoy the Turkey, and the gravy, and the stuffing, and the cranberry sauce.

Watch football, and give thanks with that excitement which Tryptophan sleepily brings.

But, forget not Our Lord Jesus, the pioneer and perfector of our Faith, by whom all remembrance and sacrifice take place, give thanks unto Him by your lives, and endue Him with your praise.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

On St. Maximilian Kolbe aned True Humility

2007-09-18T11:06:00.000-07:00

“The beginning of human pride is to forsake the Lord; the heart has withdrawn from its Maker. For the beginning of pride is sin, and the one who clings to it pours out abominations.” From Ecclesiasticus, I speak to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

I want to tell you this morning about a saint by the name of Maximilian Kolbe. Kolbe was born in Poland in the late 1800’s when it was still part of the Russian Empire.

At age 14, he and his brother decided to enter the religious life, and illegally crossed borders to enter a Franciscan monastery. By age 21, he had received his first doctorate. He had applied for a patent for a spacecraft design very much like the Space Shuttle, and became, in addition to astrophysics and engineering, proficient in philosophy, theology, and mathematics. By age 24, he had received his second doctorate, this time in theology.

In 1918, he was ordained a priest.

He went on numerous missions to Japan, founding a number of seminaries, and speaking and writing about the dangers of capitalism, communism, and imperialism. Maximilian Kolbe was not a man of humble talents, but he was a humble man.

Upon the Nazi invasion of Poland, Kolbe began to shelter Jews in his monastery. At one time, he had as many as 2,000 Jews under his care. He ran a radio station, under the call letters SP3RN, time and time again speaking out against Nazi aggression in Poland and the world. And, on February 17th, 1941, he was arrested by the Gestapo and imprisoned in the Pawiak prison, famous among Russians as the final transfer point prior to Siberia. Kolbe, however, would be sent to a different kind of Siberia, the Nazi concentration camp Auschwitz. On his arm was tattooed the number 16670.

Kolbe still managed to execute the duties of the priesthood well, even in such conditions. Bread and wine smuggled into the barracks would become, day after day, the Body and Blood of Christ, in his hands. He preached and taught the people hymns - all from memory. But, in July of 1941, a man from his barracks went missing, prompting the camp commander to take a horrific action. The guards entered the barracks, and seized ten men to send into a famous chamber - Block 11. Block 11, everyone knew was used for torture, including dehydration and starvation. One of the men chosen cried out for help and mercy. He could not fathom loosing his family, not being able to provide for them after all of this was over.

Maximilian Kolbe stood up to take his place. After three weeks of total dehydration and starvation, only three men were still alive in Block 11. They had sung hymns together. They had prayed together. One of the three was Father Kolbe. Finding him still alive after all this time, they injected him with carbolic acid to make room for more prisoners.

In 1982, when the Holy See canonized Father Kolbe, the man he saved with his own life - Franciszek Gajowniczek was there. At another memorial in the same year at Auschwitz, he said - “I want to express my thanks, for the gift of life.” Maximilian Kolbe took seriously the Lord’s call. “He who hum bles himself will be exalted.” He must have, at some point, in Block 11, remembered this text from Philippians, “ Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of
men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name.”

He knew that to be humble is to empty yourself.

There is a lot of self-emptying these days, but it is not after the pattern of our Lord Jesus. It is certainly not self-emptying for the sake of love. It is self-emptying for the sake of shallowness, of greed, of lust, and of power. We give ourselves over to every passion we find. We are forever filled with busy-ness not for the sake of any true good, but merely for the sake of being occupied. And what is the result? One more dollar, one more movie, one more tank of gas. What we wind up being is empty - not filled. We wind up being puffed up in emptiness, thinking in our pride that we have no need for God.

And to us, Saint Paul writes: “Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus - Jesus who emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.” Paul tells us that he took the form of a servant, or in Greek, doulos, which means very clearly “slave.” You might say that Jesus was not a slave. He went where he wanted to, he did what he thought best. To whom was he a slave? Do you not know that he emptied himself to the point of laying down his life, of putting his life into our hands? What did we do to him? We killed him. “He humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a Cross.” He emptied himself to the point where he had nothing left! Do you know that? That there, on the cross, he had nothing left? But, the cross is certainly not empty, no it is the source of life for the Christian.

If we want to overcome the pride that will kill the soul, then we must empty ourselves in the same way he did. Maximilian Kolbe understood this. His stomach hadn’t taken in food for three weeks - yet he was completely full. You and I cannot imagine the pain of a death like that. We can hardly imagine the hunger pangs of three days of starvation. Yet, he took it joyfully. You might say - well, the chances are that I will not die like that. That sort of danger is not coming to my neighborhood anytime soon. And you’re right. The Nazis do not patrol our streets at night. Militant Muslims have not sought to enslave us as they enslave many of our brothers and sister in other places. But the call to imitate Jesus in self-emptying love should be just as clear to us as to anyone else.

We live in a society that is completely shallow. It lacks any depth of thought, and depth of reason, and most certainly it lacks any depth of love. We hear the word “love” very often, but it nearly never means the love of sacrifice, a self-emptying. When we hear about love, we hear about prideful love, the love of things, the love of sex, the love of success, the love of comfort.
Often, all of this is simply a love of “my way.” When we prefer “my way” to God’s way - that is pride, the opposite of love, and the opposite of humility, humility that is necessary for self-emptying, self-donating love. This pride is nothing more than a forsaking, and abandonment of God, his will and his word. It is interesting, by the way, that many Christians are called arrogant and prideful simply for being faithful. I can tell you that in our current battle over the supremacy of the Scriptures, orthodox, faithful Christians have been labeled proud and arrogant over and over and over again. This is Satan’s twisting of the meaning of a word.

Pride is the abandonment of God. It is not a word for being sure or certain of something, most especially the teachings of Christ and His Church. This abandonment of God is not something that has taken place on a limited basis. It is not the disease of “some” or “few.” It has taken hold at every level. It takes hold every time you and I commit sin, every time we say “forget God, I’m going to do what I want.” It is not only on an individual basis, but a matter of the orientation of our whole society. We live in a society that has literally abandoned God. It has forsaken the Creator of all life. How is this made clear? Open the paper. Watch the news. Take a drive down Southlake Boulevard. Ask yourself: does what I see seek to bring glory to God, or to me? Does all of this bring a drink to Jesus, thirsty on the cross, or does it fulfill my desires, my thirsts, my hungers, my lusts. Is it all about me? The answer should be immediately clear. The answer is that consumerism, materialism, and wealth have nothing to do with Jesus. Jesus died poor, homeless, and unpopular. He had emptied himself.

If we want to be humble, we must empty ourselves, and that cannot happen while seeking to fill ourselves with the things of this world. We must learn the power of simple selflessness. We must learn the power of self-donating love. For some of us, this will mean doing the dishes when we’re tired. For some, this will mean lending a hand to our neighbor when we have something else to do. For some, it might mean giving money we would rather spend on ourselves to someone who really needs it. For some, this might mean caring for an elder, maybe a mother or father, who can no longer care for themselves. Some, like Father Kolbe, might be challenged to empty themselves even unto death. But, this is the way to uniting our purposes with that of God Our Father - it is the way to eternal life. It is self-emptying, self-donation, the gift of Jesus that saves us. Our own self-emptying, our own gift of self that is the proper response. There is no other way toward humility than this.

Do you want to be filled?
Truly filled?

I usually take my car to the carwash. But, every once in a while, I’ll do it myself. I have a bucket that sits outside, and I use that for the soapy water. But, what I usually find is that it is full of dirt and grime. Before I fill the bucket with soapy water, I have to rinse out the bucket. If I didn’t, I would be washing my car with dirty water. It is the same with us. We must empty ourselves in order to be filled. We must be emptied of all selfishness and pride, of all sin and abandonment of God. The result is worth it. The result is a heart that delights in loving God and delights in loving its neighbor. This is true humility.

The Roman Catholic Church and Lawsuits

2007-07-16T19:15:00.000-07:00

The Law Knows no Heresy:

A Review of Judicial Involvement in Church Disputes

The judicial eye of the civil authority of this land of religious liberty cannot penetrate the veil of the church, nor can the arm of the court either rend or touch that veil for the forbidden purpose of vindicating the alleged wrongs of its members. Shannon v. Frost , 42 Ky. 253 (1842).

The Church has always taught “pray, pay and obey.” What the Suffolk grand jury has said is that now the church should pray, pay and obey the laws of this land.”

In response to the recent onslaught of hundreds of civil sex abuse claims brought by parishioners against clergy in various archdioceses, church authorities submitted the following request to the relevant superior courts, which for years prior had constituted a reasonable ecclesiastical disclaimer within the jurisdiction and without: dismiss all claims, because the First Amendment bars courts from interfering with church operations and policies. In the ensuing legal battles which followed this request, defendants and plaintiffs alike have found ammunition in century-old case law over this request to dismiss serious tort claims of damages to minors because of ecclesiastical immunity and autonomy.

The plaintiffs have complained that church officials failed to exercise their doctrinally- guaranteed supervisory authority to properly monitor offending priests within the church. Canon law provides an established but highly discretionary procedure for internal self- discipline of miscreant officials, whereby all internal complaints are submitted to the personal determination of bishops and, where necessary, the decisions of church judicatories. Clerics and church officials have never been required to report suspected abuses to civil authorities. The application of such autonomous authority to the present situation has provoked plaintiffs to bring charges of deception, intimidation, fraud, tortuous negligence, and even criminal complicity against dozens of diocesan bishops who consistently entertained complaints alleging sex abuse of minors which were brought by both parishioners and clergy. These bishops then refused to turn the alleged offenders over to civil justice.

In most cases, when faced with the problem of dealing with the proven sex offenses of a parish priest, the supervisory bishop would deal with the matter by merely settling with the victim and his family, and then quietly handed the offending priest over to counselors and rehabilitation programs. The offending priest would frequently return to ministry in another parish, without disclosure of past offenses ever having been made by his responsible supervisors. In many cases, suspected priests continued to molest minors while under the supervision of their bishops. In response to the claims alleging that such conduct constituted gross negligence or even criminal complicity, church authorities simply continued to assert their constitutional privilege to exercise their exclusive jurisdiction over problems within the church, with total immunity from judicial review.

Plaintiff lawyers have asserted that church officials are attempting to “hide behind canon law” and find protection in “the church’s culture of silence.” Plaintiff lawyers also referred to several recent state court decisions, in which the court found that neither the doctrine of separation of church and state, nor The Free Exercise Clause’s requirement of state deference to matters of religious belief could protect the conduct of church supervisors or priests from civil judgment.

On the other hand, defendant church lawyers have referred to a much older body of case law, arguing that the court does not have jurisdiction over those cases which involve the relationship between a church supervisor and a priest, because such a relationship is undisputedly and inextricably linked to church doctrine, and thus is protected by the First Amendment.

The attorneys’ use of conflicting precedent reflects an historical struggle for religious freedom and church autonomy. It has been suggested that the recent accusations against the Roman Catholic Church for alleged sex abuse and internal negligence is one of the most striking examples of the historical tension between the judiciary and the church ever encountered in America. Each side of the dispute refers to precedent in its favor: on the one hand, judicial permission to review ecclesiastical conduct and procedure, and on the other, absolute church autonomy. This paper will describe the scope of judicial review of church disputes in U.S. Supreme Court decisions, and will conclude by assessing the recent adjudications involving claims against the Catholic Church.

State Court Precedent

When it turned to Massachusetts Judge Constance Sweeney to determine whether the church might be held civilly liable for shielding clerical tortfeasors from legal review, the court consolidated various broad precedents. The court finally ordered the church to turn over internal documents for review by plaintiff lawyers, and entertained the legal issue of whether the church had complied with its own policies in properly monitoring problem priests. The judge ultimately ruled that in the case at hane, the ecclesiastical misconduct of parish priests and bishops was not protected under the First Amendment. This was because the claims at issue did not involve internal church disputes, but rather turned on claims made by third parties against church officials for their alleged negligence in their duty to supervise priests whom they reasonably believed or knew to have sexually abused children. The judge concluded that judicial review of tort claims against priests and their supervisors was constitutionally permissible in this case because the cases did not lure the court into involvement in church doctrine, faith, internal organization or discipline; rather, the case merely presented issues which were civilly judiciable according to neutral principles of law.

However, the judge isolated and dismissed those claims within the same case which alleged 1) negligence of bishops in their ordination of a priest and 2) failure to remove a priest from the priesthood. The Judge reasoned that such matters were “purely ecclesiastical,” in that they arose from religious doctrine, and were thus to be protected from judicial scrutiny .
Broadly stated, the following rules comprise the body of law which the United States Supreme Court has established for governing judicial involvement in church disputes. A civil court is both prohibited from making “religious decisions” and from deciding which of several competing “religious decisions” is correct.

Courts may not interfere in matters of church doctrine, discipline, or polity. (Watson v. Jones, 80 U.S. 679, 1871). The First Amendment prohibits civil courts from awarding church property on the basis of judicial interpretation of church doctrine (Presbyterian Church in the United States v. Mary Elizabeth Blue Hull Memorial Presbyterian Church, 393 U.S. 440 1969), but civil courts may resolve church property disputes wherever the determination does not involve inquiry into church doctrine. Maryland & Virginia Eldership of Churches of God v. Church of God at Sharpsburg, 396 U.S. 367 1970). Civil courts may never probe into church polity with regard to the removal of clerics. Serbian Eastern Orthodox Diocese for the United States of America and Canada v. Milivojevich, 426 U.S. 696 1976). Finally, however, notwithstanding the limitations imposed on the courts by the above decisions, a court may, at its option, utilize neutral principles of law to adjudicate church property disputes. (Jones v. Wolf, 443 U.S. 595 1979).

Permissible Judicial Involvement

With regard to recent adjudication, the current application of the law to claims arising from church order has required the court to carefully review federal and state precedents. Although these precedents tend to reflect the historically problematic confusion of roles between church and state (as will be discussed later in this paper), the operative line of demarcation between permissible and impermissible involvement is definately ascertainable, and has been demonstrated in such recent holdings as that of Judge Sweeney’s: where a dispute turns on purely ecclesiastical matters, or where a cause of action arises from a dispute over internal doctrine, faith, organization or discipline, judicial involvement not permissible. On the other hand, where a party brings suit to enforce a cognizable civil right, to which neutral principles of law can attach, then judicial review may be permissible.

In those cases where the court’s dividing line may not be so clearly drawn between “purely” religious or “purely” secular matters, the court’s initial review is limited to a selective separation of religious issues from secular issues. Following this initial differentiation, the court will adjudicate only those secular issues which can be determined according to civil law. The civil courts are to leave any matter of faith strictly alone, and where a matter of faith has already been decided by the appropriate ecclesiastical body, the court must defer to the ecclesiastical decision- even where the religious decision may affect the civil issues involved.
Thus the legal line which divides between permissible and impermissible judicial intervention falls between faith and civil action. Where a cause of action implicates a purely civil claim, the court may intervene, regardless of the fact that an involved party happens to be a church or a cleric. On the other hand, where a cause of action implicates a purely religious matter, the court may not intervene, but must leave the matter to the resolution of the religious body in which the matter arises. Accordingly, though the Catholic church has been found liable for the sex offenses of its clerics, no legal fault has been attributed to the church’s policies and procedures for refraining to review or remove its sexual offenders, because the church’s policy and procedure is essentially founded upon its religious belief.

Courts have thus referred to two governing principles in their adjudication of church disputes. The first principle is the principle of association. This principle justifies church autonomy in resolving its own disputes, on the theory that all who unite themselves in a single ecclesiastical body implicitly consent to submit to its government and internal adjudication of disputes. (Gonzalez v Archbishop, 280 U.S. 1, 9 1929).

The second principle, of particular interest in discussing the recent scandals in the Roman Catholic Church, is the trend of judicial deference to a church governed by a hierarchical system. Courts make a distinction between hierarchical churches and congregational churches because the law regards hierarchical churches as legal entities governed by the law of corporations, while local congregations are afforded only the diminished legal protection afforded to voluntary associations. By extension, courts also defer to this congregational/hierarchical distinction in locating the government of a church. For instance: In a congregational church, authority for internal adjudication is located in the majority of the congregation. On the other hand, where a church is found to be part of an ecclesiastical hierarchy-in that it constitutes a subordinate part of a general religious organization with established tribunals for ecclesiastical government, courts allow those tribunals to decide all questions of faith, discipline, rule, custom and ecclesiastical government on their own. Thus historically, where the (civil) rights implicated in a dispute depended on questions of ecclesiastical rule, the civil court considered the decision of the highest tribunal of the church to be conclusive, and governed its civil decision accordingly.

Tort Cases

These principles have been applied in tort cases involving facts similar to the causes of action names in the current accusations against the Catholic Church. Late in the 20th century, American courts were still limited by the relatively simple parameters of the Watson Doctrine of 1871: courts might not interfere in matters of church doctrine, discipline, or polity. This legal doctrine left civil courts with only a limited role to play in reviewing ecclesiastical decisions. However, in a landmark case of 1929, the court permitted the “marginal civil review” of those claims which challenged the decisions of ecclesiastical tribunals that were allegedly influenced by tortuous fraud, collusion or arbitrariness. (Gonzalez v. Archbishop, 280 U.S. 1 1929). The plaintiff in this case brought suit claiming entitlement to a chaplaincy position, which had allegedly been denied to him arbitrarily and without good cause. The lower court originally held that the plaintiff’s claim was invalid because the church’s decision as to whether the candidate possessed the necessary qualifications for a chaplaincy lay exclusively within the jurisdiction of the appropriate ecclesiastical court.

However, the higher court ultimately did not defer to the decision of the ecclesiastical court. The court found that the decisions of the church were arbitrary because the church had not followed its own laws and procedures in arriving at its decision. The higher court also justified its intervention because it found that the plaintiff’s cause of action involved a secular issue of employment law, to which neutral principles of civil law could easily attach for civil adjudication.

The higher court ultimately exercised a liberal amount of intervention when it ordered the archbishop to accept the plaintiff candidate into the priesthood. Although the law has held that in the absence of wrongdoing, the decisions of the proper church tribunals on such purely ecclesiastical matters as the qualifications of the clergy, regardless of secular rights, must be accepted by the secular courts as conclusive, the court reasoned that arbitrariness in an ecclesiastical decision was nevertheless sufficient to undo a presumption of deference to the ecclesiastical court.

The court exercised more limited review in Serbian Eastern Orthodox Diocese for the United States v. Milivojevich, 426 U.S. 696 (1976), in which the court held that inquiry into the procedures or substance of canon law is never the constitutional province of the court, especially with regard to the removal of clerics. The court was faced with the claim of a priest against the supreme synod of a Greek Orthodox Church for their decision to defrock him and remove him from his office on grounds of schismatic and insubordinate teaching. The court reiterated the general rule that religious controversies are not the proper subject of civil court inquiry. The plaintiff claimed that the church had removed him from his office by means which were procedurally and substantively defective under the church’s own regulations. After conducting a “detailed review” of the church’s decision, the lower court held that the plaintiff’s removal was arbitrary and thus had to be set aside.

The United States Supreme Court, on the other hand, ultimately reversed the lower court’s decision because its probe into ecclesiastical deliberation seemed too much like an unconstitutional attempt to decide religious law. The Court reasoned that “all of the decisions of the (supreme synod) in regard to faith, officiation, church order and internal organization are valid and final,” and that the First Amendment absolutely permits hierarchical religious organizations to establish their own rules for discipline and government, and to create authoritative tribunals for adjudicating dispute over these matters. The Court went on to insist that when this choice is exercised and ecclesiastical tribunals are created to decide disputes over the government and direction of subordinate bodies, the Constitution requires that civil courts accept ecclesial decisions as binding.

Finally, the Court applied traditional principles of association in reasoning that the priest was bound by the decision of his superiors and by his own religious oath of obedience to them, and thus had no legal recourse against their decision because of the legal principle that “persons who have contractually bound themselves to adhere to the decisions of the ruling hierarchy in a private association may not obtain relief from those decisions in a civil court.”

The Serbian court chastised the state court for its “fatal fallacy” in rejecting the decision of the church’s tribunal, and impermissibly imposing its own inquiry and interpretation onto church polity. The Court’s final decision stated that the polity of the church was to be reviewed and interpreted by the church alone; thus the lower court’s decision was overturned precisely because it had conducted an impermissible “detailed review” of church law. Furthermore, the Court referred to the fact that church judicatories are often guided by inconsistent canonical sources other than law per se, and thus the civil courts, being versed in civil law, are not qualified to “re write church law.” Here, the general effect of the Court’s language seems to create a prohibition against revues of church law in general, regardless of the “level” or “detail” of the civil scrutiny involved.

In sum: the Supreme Court has followed the restrictions of Serbian in ensuing cases. In particular, the Court has held that where claims relate to the status and employment of a priest, such claims “go to the heart” of internal church discipline, faith, and organization, thus constituting issues which the Court may not adjudicate. The Court has allowed that there may be some secular aspects of clerical employment which might be acceptable matter for judicial review. However, the Court has most frequently held that because of the particularly sensitive role which the clergy play in the church, evaluations of clergy performance are not rightly subject to judicial review because such evaluations relate only to religion; and purely religious controversies are never the proper subject of civil court inquiry. Furthermore, awhere an ecclesiastical court has already adjudicated a religious matter, a civil court must accept the ecclesiastical decisions of church tribunals, and the civil implications therein, as it finds them.
Tort cases, such as those surfacing in the current situation, also adhered closely to the doctrine of non interference in the prior decisions of church authorities, because of the presumption of consent by all church members who had submitted to the ecclesiastical government of the church, and because of the propriety of applying principles of canon law in controversies which grew out of canonical relationships. Furthermore, courts have almost always held that deference to ecclesiastical authority was always appropriate where the role and status of a priest was involved.

Critical Exceptions

In regards to recent adjudication of sexual tort claims against clergy, the following cases are instructive.

As early as 1890, the court established a trend of significant intervention in torts cases in deciding Morasse v. Brochu. The court adjudicated the claims of a parishioner against his priest for slander when the defendant priest allegedly accused the plaintiff of violating the rules of the church, and then urged other parishioners to avoid associating with him. Having found the actionable elements of slander in the facts which the plaintiff alleged, the court simply applied elements of tort law to the issues of the case, and found that the defendant priest was guilty. Similarly, in Destafano v. Grabrian, (1986) where a priest engaged in an adulterous relationship with a married woman to whom he provided pastoral counsel, the court held that the mere fact that the defendant was a priest could not shield him from tort liability for alienation of affections. Nor was the court inhibited by the fact that the cause of action arose during the performance of a clerical duty.

Finally, we arrive at the most recent adjudications of church disputes, in which the court has justified its involvement by heavy reliance on the doctrine of the protection of belief- rather than action paradigm, and on the presence of third party intervention in the cases. Because of factual similarities, theses cases are most relevant to the trends as they are applied in recent sex abuse claims. In 1999, the court decided against the clergy in Mendez v. Geoghan, in which parishioner parents brought a claim of sexual abuse against the church on behalf of their children. The parents sued the defendant priest’s clerical supervisors on the grounds that they had negligently allowed the priest to abuse children while under their control. The court held that while the state courts could not intervene in religious disputes, and while no cause of action could be asserted for negligent clerical training, the court retained power to make appropriate civil determinations on the purely secular tort of sex abuse, even though the defendants were clerics.

The court relied on the principle that the freedom to believe remains absolute, and extends protection to essentially religious conduct such as religious training, or the ordination or removal of a cleric. On the other hand, the court reasoned that the interest of protecting society requires that the freedom to act in a religious context be limited by civil law. Accordingly, the court found that the supervisory defendants were not immune from civil liability for directing or permitting defendant priest to do something or to engage in some activity which they knew or should have known would expose third parties to grave or unseen dangers. The court added that the historical principle of church autonomy does not mean that all the consequences of the relationship between and among members of the clergy are beyond judicial scrutiny. The court noted additional justification for scrutiny where the clerical relationship tolerated harm of third parties.

In the following year, the court decided an almost identical case in Leary v. Geoghan, this time addressing the plaintiff’s personal claims of negligence, clerical malpractice, and breach of fiduciary duty against his clerical supervisors. When the defendants claimed immunity, the court denied, again holding that clerics are not immune from liability when they have directed or permitted a subordinate to do something which they knew or should have known would have caused harm to a third party. The court noted that under state law and the Constitution, the court was prohibited from making religious decisions and from deciding which of several competing religious decisions was correct.

Furthermore, the court recognized that the assessment of a priest’s ministerial qualifications constituted a purely ecclesiastical matter entitled to constitutional protection against judicial interference. However, the court referred to its prior decision that not all of the consequences of relationships among members of the clergy are beyond judicial scrutiny, particularly those which affect third parties. The Leary court went on to add that the mere presence of doctrinal implications in a given situation is not always sufficient to immunize priestly conduct from the censor of civil law. Furthermore, the court noted that while civil courts are required to accept the church’s interpretation of religious doctrine, courts are not prohibited from making appropriate determinations where the application of the doctrinal interpretation has resulted in civil harm, as where the doctrinally-based authoritative judgment of a bishop permits the continued abuse of children. Once again, the court referred to effect on third parties and applicability of neutral principles of law as justifications for judicial involvement.

Diminished Deference

Around the turn of the century, courts began to give less deference to church authority. In Barkely v. Hayes, (1913) the court did not demur to intervene even though the parties brought an action based on a set of property claims arising directly from specific doctrinal differences. The Barkley court referred to a state decision in Boyles v. Roberts, (1908) which held that where civil property rights were involved, the court was not required to register the decrees of the church as its own. Rather, the court might investigate for itself any relevant ecclesiastical matter, even those matters relating to faith and doctrine. Thus if in determining the civil or property rights of the parties it became necessary for the court to investigate a church’s articles of faith or the written documents of its judicatories, such investigation was lawful, even to the extent of determining whether church judicatories had attributed the correct meaning to their own articles.

The Barkley holding discredited the earlier Watson doctrine, and reflected a trend which permitted the court to inquire into the content of the religious faith or practice of the parties where civil causes of action were asserted. The Barkley court explicitly reserved authority to review ecclesiastical matters by applying principles which allowed that after undertaking review of church polity, the court might state that the decisions of the supreme judicatory of the church were not conclusive upon the courts when they were in defiance and express violation of the constitution of the body itself. Furthermore, if the civil court found that church judicatories had proceeded palpably without jurisdiction, neither church members nor the civil courts should be required to respect their decisions.

Following this interlude of increasing judicial involvement in church disputes, Presbyterian Church v. Hull created a new landmark in 1969. The court returned to its Watson holding when faced with the issue of whether constitutional restraints permitted a civil court to award church property to a congregational faction on the basis of the civil court’s interpretation of church doctrine. The plaintiffs claimed violations of their rights arising from the church’s departures from its original tenets of faith and practice. The jury in the case was instructed to apply a “Departure from Doctrine” standard in assessing whether the actions of the church amounted to an abandonment of its original doctrines. The Supreme Court overturned this decision, reasoning that a civil court could not review a church’s departure from its own doctrine, because such review necessarily required civil courts to engage in a forbidden weighing of the significance and meaning of religious doctrine. The Supreme Court determined that civil courts have no constitutional role in determining ecclesiastical questions implicated in church disputes, and that the lower courts had violated the First Amendment by applying the departure from doctrine standard of review.

These principles were later qualified by a fundamental principle announced later in Jones v. Wolf, which held that a state court is constitutionally entitled to employ neutral principles of law to adjudicate a church dispute. Under this approach, a civil court is permitted to intervene in a church dispute at the following levels: a court might adopt one of various legal approaches for settling a church dispute, so long as its approach involved no consideration of doctrinal matters. Furthermore, a civil court might evaluate and review the governing documents of a church in reaching its decision, but that the court must take special care to scrutinize the document in purely secular terms, without reliance on religious precepts. Finally, if the interpretations of a matter would require the court to resolve a religious controversy, then the court still had to defer to the decision of the ecclesiastical body.

The Kedroff court also crystallized several other modern principles of jurisprudence in church disputes: 1) that of extreme circumscription in ecclesiastical matters; 2) that while neutral principles of law might be applied for use in church disputes, the First Amendment requires courts to avoid reviewing underlying controversies over religious doctrine, thus making it necessary for the court to structure issues so as to prevent the civil courts from dabbling in ecclesiastical questions.

Finally, courts have held to the doctrine that civil courts are prohibited from inquiring whether church authorities have properly exercised their power under religious law, since such probes into the allocation and procedure of ecclesiastical power necessitate the interpretation of ambiguous religious law and usage. Nonetheless, the courts have concluded that a state might adopt any one of various approaches for settling church disputes so long as the approach avoided consideration of doctrinal matters.

Conclusion:
Whether and When to Intervene

The consistent question throughout the history of church disputes has considered whether and at what point the court may intervene in the dealings of a religious association of members who have bound themselves together under the non-coercive law of their religious denomination. In the recent church disputes involving the Catholic Church, the court’s decision as to procedure and judgment on the merits has in effect pronounced answers to that question, as follows.

In the first place, the court may intervene in those church disputes which do not turn explicitly upon religious doctrine, faith, internal organization, or discipline. For instance: the court may intervene in a church dispute which alleges wrongful conduct by a cleric acting in his clerical capacity. Although the nature of his clerical office necessarily implicates doctrine, faith, and internal organization, doctrine and faith cannot protect him from the judicial scrutiny of his wrongful conduct where secular law provides a remedy. This is especially the case where a third party to the harm brings an action to address clerical wrongdoing; in such cases, the court seems to find that ecclesiastical immunity diminishes because the “internal” nature of the dispute has been broached by third party intervention.

On the other hand, the court does not presume to review the ordination, supervisory tolerance, or removal of a priest by his ecclesiastical authorities, because such inquiry goes to the heart of religious doctrine. Thus any clerical immunity from tort actions pertains to clerical status, but not to clerical conduct.

Finally, the civil courts may intervene when church members have alleged that the church has not adhered to its own procedures for correcting alleged wrongdoing, as evidenced by review of internal church doctrines for procedural integrity and compliance with internal policies. As in corporate law and contract law, where the court finds clear terms of agreement as to established procedure, the court will act to enforce those terms, but will generally refrain from supplying new terms. Thus the court will enforce the internal adjudication of a church where the church’s authority structure has already spoken. However, where the internal adjudication of a church has defied good faith by employing arbitrariness or collusion, or has tolerated criminal conduct, the court will intervene.

In conclusion, it seems that recent decisions have adhered closely to jurisdictional precedent as to the “whether and when” of judicial intervention in church disputes. The court’s permissive intervention in those church disputes which do not turn upon religious doctrine, faith, internal organization, or discipline seems to reflect a compromise between a posture of intervention on the one hand, and one of deference to the internal ordering of ecclesiastical relationships on the other. Furthermore, the court’s recognition of a distinct civil cause of action in ecclesiastical matters reflects the court’s practice of drawing a distinction between purely religious issues and personal rights, and the ensuing application of “neutral principles of law” to those secular issues. Finally, consistent decisions allow modern courts to protect freedom of religious belief by avoiding review of the removal of clerics, while limiting freedom of religiously motivated action by imposing liability for secular torts.

The courts have exercised consistency in the level of intervention permitted in tort claims, and the recent court decisions have reflected this consistency. The court’s disregard for religious immunity in a tortuous cause of action derives from the extensive review permitted in cases more than a century old.

The Union of Covenant Keepers: The Church as Eucharistic Community

2007-06-07T12:39:00.000-07:00

“Drink ye all of this…this is my blood of the new covenant.”
Matthew 26

When Cardinal Avery Dulles calls for models by which “the Church’s fundamentally mysterious character may be understood,” he refers to de Lubac’s idea of “the Church as sacrament” as an appropriate way of describing the Church’s functions, roles, and mission. A sacrament is an outward sign of invisible grace, instituted by Christ for sanctification; thus understood as “sacrament,” the Church makes Christ present to her members and to the world. De Lubac’s proposal of the Church as effective representation of Christ in the world draws upon principles from Cyprian, Augustine, and Aquinas to demonstrate the following: the necessary interdependence between the individual and the communal or institutional in the life of the Church; the inseparability of the divine and the human in the life of the Church; and the Church’s role of representing Christ in the world, and making Christ truly present as “a kind of sacrament of intimate union with God and of the unity of all mankind; that is, she is a sign and instrument of such union and unity.”

Such evocative language, it seems, leaves issues to be explored: why do the seemingly “individual transactions” of the sacraments that join individual persons to Christ also make him a member of that corporate body of Christ that functions en toto as an effective sign of grace to the world? How does this incorporation occur, which is so vital for that unity that makes the Church’s evangelical mission possible?

Dulles provides us with a possible clue to the resolution of these questions in his discussion of “the Church as Sacrament.” Christ, the consummate sacrament of God, is prefigured in the people of Israel: “already in the Old Testament, Israel as a people constitutes a sign that historically expresses a real (though imperfect) yes-saying to God and no to idolatry.” Israel’s “yes-saying” to God in her response to God’s covenant anticipated Christ’s ultimate yes-saying to the Father. As Aquinas has elaborated, Israel-as- sacrament confirmed the sum total of her people’s respective assents to God in the common sign of circumcision, which Aquinas calls “the sacrament of the Old Law.” In virtue of each individual’s assent to God by the marking of his flesh, the corporate body of Israel kept covenant with God. The circumcised was thus linked juridically to his fellows and to Christ by their common assent to the historical covenant for all, and by the physically visible, confirming ontological change that confirmed their covenant. God and Israel were thus joined by their covenant and by the individually appropriated, juridically effective signs that confirmed it. In this way, a multitude of yes-saying individuals became corporate Israel, capable of presenting God to the world and representing God among the nations.

As Aquinas clarifies further, there is a profound change for the individual and corporate arrangement with God’s incarnation in Christ. Christ contains in Himself the grace that He signifies; and it is in the yes-saying of His own flesh and blood to the Father that the individual Christian must participate for his justification. I will suggest that on the model of Israel, we can understand the Church as the community that keeps covenant with God in virtue of each individual’s assent to God by participating in Christ’s flesh. The truly corporate “body” of the Church is formed as the communicants are linked ontologically to their fellows and to God both by their common assent and by the confirming ontological change of the sacramental character upon the Christian soul. In this way, and in this way only, there is fulfillment of the Messianic prophecy of the sacramentally formed “new heart” on which the Law is inscribed “within them;” and just as the individual, physical “inscription” of circumcision resulted in the holy people of Israel, so the individual, physical “inscription” of the Eucharist in individual souls ontologically results in the community of the Church.

As I hope to show by drawing on Aquinas, Congar, and Cavanaugh in conversation with Rahner, such an understanding of the Church as the union of those who keep covenant with God in the Eucharist allows for a vision of the Church that can vividly address De Lubac’s noteworthy criteria. 1) The necessary interdependence between the individual and the communal/institutional life of the Church is manifest in the communicant’s free request and reception of the sacrament that the Church confects and extends, even while she, as a body, is being constituted by her members when they receive and bear in their bodies the same body of Christ. 2) The inseparability of the divine and the human in the life of the Church is enhanced by a strong emphasis on the ontological effects of the Eucharist as the Real Presence of Christ; and 3) the Church’s role of representing Christ in the world and making Christ truly present as “a kind of sacrament of intimate union with God and of the unity of all mankind” is enhanced by the understanding of his called community that is joined through both the freely effected covenant, and by the ontological changes brought about by the gifts from His body.

I propose that an adequate vision of the Church (one that appreciates her mission in the world and her very nature as the creature of the New Covenant anticipated in the Old, and is, as Ratzinger puts it, “in a way that is theologically valid and fully in accord with the New Testament concept of faith” ) is only possible if the Eucharistic nature of the true body of Christ is appreciated. These considerations of the Church as the consummation of the juridical covenants of Israel in the Church’s ontological communion with Christ’s body are affirmed by the conjunction of these ideas in one concise passage of Lumen Gentium I.6:

The Church, further, "that Jerusalem which is above" …is described as the spotless spouse of the spotless Lamb, whom Christ "loved and for whom He delivered Himself up that He might sanctify her," whom He unites to Himself by an unbreakable covenant, and whom He unceasingly "nourishes and cherishes," and whom, once purified, He willed to be cleansed and joined to Himself, subject to Him in love and fidelity, and whom, finally, He filled with heavenly gifts for all eternity, in order that we may know the love of God and of Christ for us, a love which surpasses all knowledge.

In sum, this paper proposes that an adequate ecclesiology of the Church’s nature, union, and mission is based on the Eucharist, by which the Church is ontologically brought into being and formed, as the body of Christ, from the body of Christ. As Pius XII held in Mystici Corporis Christ, the nuptial Church, as a visible and united body, “comes forth from the side of the second Adam in His sleep on the Cross;” here, it should be remembered that Aquinas applied this image to the sacraments themselves. The New Covenant has its effect and its ensuing community in and through Christ’s very blood.

Israel as the Union of the Circumcised Covenant Keepers

This proposal, involves the idea that the union of the Church is anticipated in the union of Israel, or, to be more apropos to the modern context, that the union of individual Christians in the community of the Church was anticipated by the union of individual Israelites in the nation of Israel. Congar insists that St. Paul’s idea of “the mystical Body of Christ” as a mode of relationship between the individual and the group has a distinctively Jewish background, which rests on the Old Testament’s vivid account of the solidarity of the members of Israel with God and with one another, as a kind of mystical body; “Israel is a people, a single blood, ‘those of my blood,’ says St. Paul.” Accordingly, Congar notes St. John speaking of the Church as “a (single) form of life,” and St. Paul referring to the Church as “the new creation, the restoration of all things… wholly in a single individual and yet also a people, a multitude.”

This unity of Israel begins with an alliance: The gathered people of God in the Old Testament “began with God’s promises to Abraham, and the alliance entered into with him and his descendents,” which alliance was confirmed in the rite of Abraham’s circumcision as described in Genesis 17:

When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the LORD appeared to him and said, "I am God Almighty; walk before me and be blameless. I will confirm my covenant between me and you and will greatly increase your numbers." Then God said to Abraham, "As for you, you must keep my covenant, you and your descendants after you for the generations to come. This is my covenant with you and your descendants after you, the covenant you are to keep: Every male among you shall be circumcised. You are to undergo circumcision, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and you. My covenant in your flesh is to be an everlasting covenant. Any uncircumcised male, who has not been circumcised in the flesh, will be cut off from his people; he has broken my covenant."

The beneficiaries of this covenant are Abraham’s promised descendents, who are prophesied in Daniel 7 to enjoy an eternal Kingdom, as a multitude who are at once “as a an individual being;” as Congar puts it, “the destiny and call of each person is bound up with the destiny of the group, and this destiny may be summed up and realized in the Fathers of Israel, in consideration of whom and in the person of whom God looks with favor on His people.” Accordingly, Aquinas held that as a community, Israel is united to God and to one another by the circumcision of her individual members. As Lumen Gentium 2 accords,

The eternal Father, by a free and hidden plan of His own wisdom and goodness, created the whole world. His plan was to raise men to a participation of the divine life. Fallen in Adam, God the Father did not leave men to themselves, but ceaselessly offered helps to salvation, in view of Christ, the Redeemer ‘who is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of every creature’…Already from the beginning of the world the foreshadowing of the Church took place. It was prepared in a remarkable way throughout the history of the people of Israel and by means of the Old Covenant.

It is from this indisputable and historical account of God’s calling a collective people to be His sacrament in the world that Lumen Gentium concludes that God, however, does not make men holy and save them merely as individuals, without bond or link between one another. Rather has it pleased Him to bring men together as one people, a people which acknowledges Him in truth and serves Him in holiness. He therefore chose the race of Israel as a people unto Himself. With it He set up a covenant. Step by step He taught and prepared this people, making known in its history both Himself and the decree of His will and making it holy unto Himself.

Thus the actual wording of the Bris ceremony for the circumcision of an infant involves language of a (juridically) covenanted and physically confirmed union:

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to enter him into the Covenant of Abraham our father. Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who sanctified the beloved one from the womb, set His statute in his flesh, and sealed his descendants with the sign of the holy Covenant. Therefore, as a reward of this (circumcision), the living God, our Portion, our Rock, has ordained that the beloved of our flesh be saved from the abyss, for the sake of the Covenant which He has set in our flesh. Blessed are You Lord, who makes the Covenant…. Sovereign of the universe, may it be Your will that this (circumcision) be regarded and accepted by You as if l had offered him before the Throne of Your Glory. And You, in Your abounding mercy, send through Your holy angels a holy and pure soul to (name) the son of (name) who has now been circumcised for the sake of Your great Name.

As such, the Christian tradition has long held that Israel’s confirmations of the Old Covenant constituted valid though imperfect ‘sacraments.’ Aquinas holds that the sacraments of the Old Law, unlike those of the new, could not of themselves contain and confer sanctifying grace; they could merely signify the faith by which Israel was justified and set in the state of sanctifying grace, and with which Israel relied on the covenant confirmations that God had prescribed in the rite of circumcision, which, as such, sufficed to remit original sin and conferred grace as an anticipatory sign of faith in Christ’s coming Passion. As Congar summarizes, “it is not to be expected that there was once a time in which no such things as sacraments existed; circumcision, for instance, conferred grace and justification; but it is essentially different from the new covenant, which is “the visible manifestation of the final grace of God:”

…the former (Israelites) were indeed related to Christ by faith, but they came into contact with Him in a manner belonging to the order of intention (a legal system). Since the Incarnation, it is by means of a direct or indirect (in the sacraments) physical contact with his human nature that Christ acts and communicates grace.

In virtue of the covenant that had been formed in the individual bodies of the Israelites, Gods’ very presence dwelt in the assembled nation of Israel. Congar notes that in the priestly tradition, the tent of meeting in which the Ark of the Covenant was kept, (corresponding to the future Temple) was called “The Dwelling Place,” suggesting the place where God “dwelt” above the Ark of the Covenant; and the Ark was the locus of God’s dwelling because it housed the basic terms of Israel’s “covenant” with God in the tablets of the Ten Commandments. Here, Congar elaborates on a “profound difference between the manner of God’s presence and the way His gifts are given under the former Dispensation and…(their) issuing from the Incarnation of the Son of God.” Congar refers to St. Stephen’s quotation of Isaiah in Acts 6 to highlight the Church’s comprehension of the reality of God’s presence in the messianic times, underscoring the absolutely decisive point that the Most High no longer dwells in temples made by men’s hands. The implication is that the Temple that cannot be built with men’s hands- that consummate Temple which is the flesh of the Son- has been established, such that the former Temple and manner of God’s presence has become obsolete in comparison: “destroy this Temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”

The prophets themselves had sternly critiqued the formalism of the Temple worship that did not effectively aim at personal reconciliation with God Himself; Jeremiah in particular had prophesied that Jerusalem, though deprived of the Ark of the Covenant, would nonetheless still know the presence of YHWH, because God Himself would dwell there. Throughout the accounts of the Old Testament, the over-riding theme is that the consummation of the covenant is in God’s dwelling with His people, in a way that is not reducible to prescribed time or place:

The prophets’ mission was to throw light upon and also to further the realization of God’s plan, which by successive stages, was moving towards its final consummation in Jesus Christ. They were to prevent this movement from a fixation at one or other of its stages or in one or other of its characteristics. By the time of the apostolic writings, the absence of any mention of the destruction of the Temple indicates that “the Church had modified her vocabulary in order to express the perfect awareness that she had acquired the new state of things resulting from the death and resurrection of her Lord.

Congar finds in the words of Jesus a constantly repeated assertion that the Jerusalem Temple, in which Christ dwelt, would be transcended by the Messianic fact of the Son of God made flesh in His “personal and substantial coming into the world,” and the consequent fact of the new Temple, which is His body:

Henceforth the true Temple, the true dwelling-place of God among men is none other than the person of Jesus Himself…the foundation of the new economy, the sacraments and the Church, is the death and resurrection of our Lord.

In other words, God’s presence, as the reward of the Old Covenant, was to progress from God’s mere cohabitation with humanity in the Old, to the fullness of His incarnation in human flesh in the person of Jesus in the New.

It is significant here to recall several other prophesied characteristics of this new economy. First, the prophet Jeremiah forecasts the formation of a new heart as part of the participation in the new covenant. One recalls that while Abraham “believed God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness” under the old covenant, the new covenant promises a heart that has righteousness inscribed upon it; an ontological change is assured. Such a distinction between the juridical relationship of the circumcision and the ontological relationship that is literally “characterized” in the heart by the grace-containing sacraments corresponds exactly with the prediction of the new, circumcised heart, the law-inscribed heart that is ontologically changed and characterized by the infusion of Christ’s grace in the sacraments. This infusion and characterization of individual souls forms the ontologically real and united “body” of the Church as the gathering of souls that are identically “marked” by divine grace:

The Church is only complete when the Holy Spirit, by His presence as efficient cause, infuses in her through Christ, the grace that is fully Christ’s and is able to make us fully other Christs, the sacramental grace… it is then only that the community dwelling-place of God in historic time begins to be perfectly established, it is at this moment that the indwelling presence of the Trinity becomes absolute and complete.

Congar continues “in the New Testament, (even) the Holy Spirit is an active Presence dwelling in and really sanctifying persons. The order of the New Covenant is an order of inwardness, in which God’s action is directed towards and reaches man himself.” To illustrate further, Congar cites Hoskyn’s commentary on John 1:

The law was a gift separable from the agent by which it was given. Grace and truth, however, came not only by but in Jesus Christ, who is the truth embodied. In the new and eternal covenant, God is not separated from His gifts, the spiritual reality of grace accompanies the sacraments… the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us; the Temple of the New Jerusalem is the Lord God almighty, its Temple is the Lamb.

Accordingly, Christ’s Paschal offering of His flesh founds the Church, the new Jerusalem.

The Eucharist as the Union of Covenant Keepers

Israel was the community of the circumcised, who kept covenant with God by obedience and were united to Him by faith and the gestures that confirmed their faith. Israel could be said to be united as one as a people because she was called to perform in common identical acts of consecration oriented to the one God. The Church is the community that keeps covenant with God through the sacraments, by which God fulfills the prophecy that (through the ontologically effective means of grace) God will inscribe His law in their hearts and re-constitute their hearts through real union with Himself; “the Church is one because Christ is one, of whom it is the body.” The continuity between Israel’s unified covenant-keeping and the union of the Church, as unified by the ontological effects of her covenant-keeping is obvious in such Scriptural statements as Galatians 3:26-29: “if you belong to Christ, you are indeed Abraham’s children.” Congar follows suit: “besides being sacramental… the Church is also social… (because) the Church is the new Israel… a people of God with its own corporate life.” Congar finds warrant for the Church’s corporate life in the account of the life of the earliest Church in the book of Acts, a distinct “fellowship” of those who “occupied themselves continually with the breaking of bread,” which activity resulted in there being “one heart and one soul in all the company of believers.”

As the Genesis account of the beginning of salvation history describes, God’s covenant with one man (Abraham) tends to a community, whose members are made by the participatory signs which mark them for God. Accordingly, the Scriptural language of ecclesial unity revolves around the theme of Christ’s one body. It is this kind of ontological, essential union that St. Paul and his following anticipate in the pastoral writings that address the unity of the Church. Having established the central principle that in Christ “we who are many form one Body” in Romans 12, I Corinthians 12, and Ephesians 4, the epistle writers clarify that this union is the expression of a basic, ontological relationship between the members that results from their mutual union with Christ, the Head of the body: “each member belongs to all the others.”… “the body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; the many parts form one body; so it is with Christ,” etc.

Here, if we accept Congar’s statement that “the Church is the realization of the New Covenant,” which as such, “was already in part realized and made known in the Old Testament by the formation of a people of God,” we must ask what God’s New Covenant, consummated in Christ, involves of the participatory signs that mark the participants for God and forms the collective chosen people of God. It is the Christian sacrament of the Eucharist that unites us both to each other and to God in the Body of Christ: “it is the Eucharist by which we are made a single body in Christ.”

This fact of the life of the Church accentuates the continuity between the Old Covenant and the New. Both covenants involve divinely bestowed benefits. The common destiny received from God in the old alliance was the land, by which the community of Israel was established within discreet spatial boundaries. In contrast, the benefit of the new alliance is “none other than the patrimony of God Himself,” namely, access to His very throne, life, and person. As Cavanaugh reminds us, this can be nothing less than the enjoyment of Christ’s very person and the consequent formation of the community of the consummated covenant: “the Eucharist makes present our destiny in communion by incorporating us together into the body of Christ.” Congar continues that “this wonderful transformation of our inheritance is perforce accompanied by an equally profound change in the person receiving, and in this way the promises made to Abraham are fulfilled.”

This new alliance, by which humanity is “brought near through the blood of Christ,” is signified by the sacraments and especially by the Eucharist: “the sacraments are signs of the Alliance.” By means of the sacraments, humanity performs “all that is needed for us to make effectual, in our own regard, the mystery accomplished for our sakes, to associate ourselves with Christ in his passing to the Father, in order to become in Him, sharers together in the good things of God.” Dom Anscar Vonier suggests that these sacraments should be read as “sacraments of the covenant” in juxtaposition with the covenant-confirming gestures of the Old Testament. In the New Testament, the Gospel authors could be read as assuming the same idea in the narrative of the presentation of the infant Jesus in the Temple; when Simeon and Anna see the human body of the incarnate God within the Jerusalem Temple, they immediately recall God’s covenant with Israel; when Zacharias hears news of the incarnate God, he recalls God’s covenant; when Mary receives the Annunciation of the Incarnation of God in her womb, she recalls God’s covenantal promises to Abraham. The incarnation of God seems to its immediate witnesses to resonate with such passages as the prophecy of Ezekiel 37:

I will make a covenant of peace with them; it will be an everlasting covenant. I will establish them and increase their numbers, and I will put my sanctuary among them forever. My dwelling place will be with them; I will be their God, and they will be my people. Then the nations will know that I the Lord make Israel holy, when my sanctuary is among them forever.

Congar concludes that the sacraments that flow from and contain the effects of Christ’s Incarnate Passion constitute both the new covenant of the Incarnation, and, consequently, its ensuing community: “the juxtaposition of the idea of covenant and the sacraments are the means by which Christians are placed in contact with Christ Himself… they receive the life-giving sap that proceeds from the tree of the cross; in short, the life by which they are to live is the very life of Christ.” Thus we see that the Church is the consummate covenant community, which enjoys the consummation of God’s covenant in the very body of Christ, and, from her ontological participation in His body, somehow becomes a Body united herself.

St. Paul even clarifies how this unity by incorporation is effected, namely, by baptism and by the unifying ministry of the one Holy Spirit: “for we were all baptized by one Spirit into one Body… and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.” In another striking passage St. Paul tells us why we form one Body: “because there is on bread, we who are many are one body, for we all are partakers of one bread.” In a similar way, the Gospel passages in Luke 13 and Matthew 8 depict the union of gathered peoples around a central meal: “people from east and west, from north and south, will come and sit down at the feat in the kingdom of God.” In this way, the Church has throughout the ages identified the sacramental theme of the Eucharist, as “the sacrament of the Church’s unity,” as summarized in Lumen Gentium:

All these things, however, were done by way of preparation and as a figure of that new and perfect covenant, which was to be ratified in Christ, and of that fuller revelation which was to be given through the Word of God Himself made flesh. "Behold the days shall come saith the Lord, and I will make a new covenant with the House of Israel, and with the house of Judah . . . I will give my law in their bowels, and I will write it in their heart….Christ instituted this new covenant, the new testament, that is to say, in His Blood, calling together a people made up of Jew and gentile, making them one, not according to the flesh but in the Spirit. This was to be the new People of God. The Son, therefore, came, sent by the Father. It was in Him, before the foundation of the world, that the Father chose us and predestined us to become adopted sons, for in Him it pleased the Father to re-establish all things…The Church, or, in other words, the kingdom of Christ now present in mystery, grows visibly through the power of God in the world. This inauguration and this growth are both symbolized by the blood and water which flowed from the open side of a crucified Jesus, and are foretold in the words of the Lord referring to His death on the Cross: "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself". As often as the sacrifice of the cross in which Christ our Passover was sacrificed, is celebrated on the altar, the work of our redemption is carried on, and, in the sacrament of the Eucharistic bread, the unity of all believers who form one body in Christ is both expressed and brought about.

Thus, just as the physical act of circumcision signified an effective covenant, the Eucharist signifies an effective covenant that not only binds the communicant to God, but to one another as well. Relying primarily on the Scriptural account, Dom Anscar Vonnier writes that “nothing is easier to demonstrate” than the connection between the Eucharistic sacrifice and the new covenant in Christ. Vonnier cites the historical references in Scripture to blood being required for the making of a covenant between God and humanity, and refers further to the effects of the blood (and with it, the bread of the Eucharist) of Christ as “an active power, bringing about in the Church and in souls the full effects of the New Testament.”

The Church from the Sacraments

At this point, having established that the paramount sacrament of the Eucharist consummates the Old Covenant’s provisions by securing the presence of God, we are left to wonder what all of this means for the way we understand the Church. Karl Rahner frames the issue nicely: given that the connection between the Church and the sacraments is not very clear at any level of theology, a common notion tends to emerge of the Church merely dispensing sacraments as the means of grace for the salvation of the individual. Consequently, the relationship between the Church and the sacraments is often perceived in the most superficial and external way, such that it could be believed that God might have entrusted their administration to any given institution, including the Christian home or the Christian state. After all, one could turn to the dispenser of grace to obtain the means of personal salvation, but then might just as easily turns away as soon as the means have been supplied, without ever having identified himself as one member within the whole body. Congar in particular acknowledges the need to “examine this reality of Christ in us, of the mystical Body… of baptism into a single body, and all this multitude of organs goes to make up one body” and to ask, literally, “how does this all come about?” In other words, given the promise of the new covenant in Christ’s blood, what is it about the sacraments, and especially of the Eucharist, that forms the community of the Church in the same way that circumcision formed the community of Israel?

Rahner explains the relationship between the individual and with the sacrament-dispensing community as covenant keepers with regard to the Eucharist:

Acceptance itself, however, can only take place in the individual, for victorious grace is only present where the subjective holiness of an individual is achieved through it…the Church only attains the highest actualization of her own nature when grace is victorious in the individual and also is tangibly expressed and really occurs for the individual’s sanctification. That is exactly what happens in the sacraments.

Thus the life of the individual is always oriented to the Church, as the single, superceding Individual: “the Christian life is a life in Christ which is nourished, maintained and expressed in a spiritual life of a social and strictly ecclesiastical nature; union with Christ, which is the interior life of the individual soul, is lived and acquired socially, in the Church.” Rahner’s solution to the posited question is to emphasize the Church as the enduring presence of Christ in the world, and thus as truly the fundamental sacrament, the source of all other sacraments; in this way, the sacraments are “acts fundamentally expressive of the nature of the Church,” and the Church experiences and fulfills her nature in the sacraments that flow from her. The Church, then, is the Church of the sacraments in as much as the Church signifies and effects the grace that brought her into being in the first place: “in the Church God’s grace is given expression and embodiment and symbolized, and by being so embodied, is present.” As such, she dispenses the sacraments; the sacraments thereby have an “ecclesiological origin,” and sacramental character follows from the nature of the Church. Thus, the individual is united to the whole in as much as the grace which he receives personally in the sacraments is the same grace which calls the Church as a whole into being.

At this point, in holding that the sacraments merely extend the primary grace which calls the Church into being in the first place, Rahner’s theory struggles to address the causality of the sacraments. On the notion of their ecclesiological origin, the sacrament’s causality would operate (in Rahner’s words) by way of a “making good of a legal claim on someone who has contracted to perform something,” or in a “juridical” sense by which the sacrament is “considered to confer on the recipient a legal title.” Thus Rahner offers the language of “natural symbols” or “intrinsically real symbols” to avoid a purely juridical tone, and to express the idea that the sacraments as signs are still causes of grace, by which the sign is intrinsically linked to its phenomenon:

The Church in her visible historical form is herself an intrinsic symbol of the eschatalogically triumphant grace of God; in that spatio-temporal visible form, this grace is made present. And because the sacraments are the actual fulfillment, the actualization of the Church’s very nature…precisely in as much as the Church’s whole reality is to be the real presence of God’s grace, as the new covenant, these sacramental signs are efficacious. Their efficacy is that of the intrinsic symbol. Christ acts through the Church in regard to an individual human being by giving his spatio-temporal embodiment by having the grace gift of his grace manifested in the sacrament. This visible form is itself an effect of the coming of grace; it is there because God is gracious to men; and in this self-embodiment of grace, grace itself occurs. The sacramental sign is cause of grace in as much as grace is conferred by being signified. And this presence (by signifying) of grace in the sacraments is simply the actuality of the Church as the visible manifestation of grace…. The relationship is one of reciprocal conditioning… The sign effects grace, by grace producing the sacrament.

Thus throughout the sacramental dynamic, the sacrament becomes the Church’s act, when the Church acts as the primary sacrament of Christ’s grace in the world. Rahner thus holds that the sacraments follow from the nature of the Church, to the extent that one could “infer” sacraments from the nature of the Church by a strict deductive proof; the sacraments are “acts fundamentally expressive of the Church’s life…acts flowing from her nature (that are) fundamentally and unconditionally the accomplishment of that nature.”

In contrast, Congar holds that the Church, in as much as she emerges from the very body of Christ, emerges from the sacraments, and is the Eucharistic body: “the unity of the mystical body is the effect proper to the Sacrament of the Eucharist.” Rather than producing the sacraments as her natural and ontological self-expression, the Church derives from them:
The words of institution speak of the new and eternal covenant that was concluded in the blood of Christ; Christ is present in the sacrament under these words. He is therefore present as a bond of unity, as the foundation of the covenant between God and man, as the Church’s unity therefore. Because He really gives Himself in ever new sacramental manifestations as sacrifice for the Church, and as sacrifice of the Church, because He exists in the Church in visible and tangible sacramental form, there is the Church. She is most manifest and in the most intensive form, she attains the highest actuality of her nature, when she celebrates the Eucharist. For here everything that goes to form the Church is found fully and manifestly present.

Congar’s perspective highlights the possibility that when discussing the nature of the Church’s being and unity, a stronger, more ontological understanding of her foundation is needed. I propose that such an understanding is available in the idea of the Church emerging from the sacraments, or, in the idea of the sacraments as the acts which constitute the Church. In Congar’s words, “what makes the Church is our faith and the sacraments in which it takes visible form. The Church is, of its essence, sacramental.” As mentioned prior, this essay is in search of an adequate ecclesiology that reflects the nature of the Church as the consummation of the Old Covenant, and that reflects the nature of the Church as the visible creature of the re-creation of all things in the Incarnation of God.

To resolve the argument, I turn to the contemporary work of theologian William T. Cavanaugh. Referring to standard references to “the mystical body of Christ” in the early twentieth century in Maritain and Popes Pius XI and Pius XII, Cavanaugh’s complaint is that “the designation of the Church as (the) ‘mystical’ rather than (the) ‘true’ body of Christ has often served the imagination of a disincarnate Church which merely hovers above the temporal, uniting Christians in soul but not in body.” Here, Cavanaugh wishes to identify the Church as God’s redemptive, visible new creation in the fallen world. Rahner would agree with him:

We can and must say that participation in the physical Body of Christ by the reception of this sacrament imparts the grace of Christ to us in so far as this partaking of one bread is an efficacious sign of the renewed, deeper, and personally ratified participation and incorporation in (the) Body of Christ… the Church. In other words, res et sacramentum, first effect and intermediary cause of the other effects in this sacrament is the more profound incorporation into the unity of the Body of Christ.

The notion of the radical, ontological effect of the Eucharistic body of Christ upon His ecclesial body for her vivification and formation as an institutional community are vividly highlighted in contemporary usage by Cavanaugh’s emphasis on the Eucharist as the sacramental event that constitutes the human person and the human community, in contrast with the oppressive political regimes that destroy both. Here, Cavanaugh’s proposals echo Congar’s idea that the Church is not a body only in the sense of a corpus politicum, but also, in a mysterious fashion, in that of a corpus organicum or biologicum: “it is not only a unity of order or of cooperation, like a natural society, but a unity of life, rather like that of a living body.” Accordingly, Cavanaugh presumes to “explore nothing less than the actual and potential impact of the Eucharist,” because “for Catholic Christianity there is nothing more real than the real presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist.” Thus, in as much as the real presence of Christ is in the body of communicating believers, the Church truly becomes the very body of Christ.

In short, for our purposes, we emphasize Cavanaugh’s insistence that the Eucharist ontologically makes and reconstitutes people into Christians when they really share in His life, flesh, and blood, and hence the Eucharist “makes” the Church, in the obverse way in which torture deconstructs persons and “makes” them into broken victims. The Eucharist is thus the means by which the Church is constructed, in the vivifying and constituting of its individual members, and gathered as the community of those who have consumed the same loaf and been inscribed with the same Eucharistic character:

Isolation is overcome in the Eucharist by the building of a communal body which resists…attempts to eradicate it… the Eucharist thus realizes the true body of Christ, a body which is neither purely mystical (qua invisible community juridically bonded by faith) nor simply reducible to the modern state.

Throughout this argument, Cavanaugh is responding to de Lubac’s worry that an over-emphasis on the Church as “mystical body” could imply that it did not belong to the Church to be a real, organic, and social body in any sense. Worst of all, such notions risked attenuating the Church’s link to Christ Himself. Cavanaugh thus explains that the Eucharist is much more than a ritual repetition of the past. It is rather a literal re-membering of Christ’s body, a knitting together of the body of Christ by the participation of many in His sacrifice… the Eucharist conforms the followers of Christ to be the true body of Christ, (a body able to provide a counter-discipline to state abuses.)

Cavanaugh’s vividly ‘ontological’ view of the Eucharist also includes the reminder that “one of the peculiarities of the Eucharistic feast is that we become the body of Christ by consuming it.” The eaters are assimilated to that which is eaten; the Church, by virtue of her members’ reception of Christ in the Eucharist, is literally changed into Christ. It is perhaps only in this way that the fullest and richest possible import of St. Paul’s one hundred sixty-four Scriptural references to the immanence of the living Christ in the Church- Christ in us and we in Christ- comes to bear. In this way, the recognition of the Church as a “body” identified with the true body of Christ becomes much more than metaphor, and hence rings all the more clearly with the words of St. Paul: “you are the body of Christ.”

Congar would likely affirm this theandric, ontological emphasis in considerations of the nature of the Church with his own reference to the Patristic notion of the Church as the new creation, in whom Christ wills to continue His life in men. As he states,

…in a truly theandric way…the body of the second Adam is formed, by the gradual communication of His spirit to all that is material, to the whole range of human actions that proceed throughout the world from the increasing progeny of the first Adam.

At this point, overlap with Rahner’s notion of the Church as Sacrament is again possible where Rahner admits that “in the Eucharist the Church is called to be what it eschatalogically is.” But it is Congar who reminds us again of the full weight of the Scriptural language: “the formula in Christ Jesus signifies receiving life and movement from Christ.” Although such language seems to resonate with Rahner’s idea that the Church exists as pure derivation from God’s grace, and hence the grace of the sacraments follow from her nature as such, it must be remembered that in as much as the Church comes into being and is animated by the Holy Spirit only in Christ, she comes into being in his body; “the formula ‘in Christ Jesus’ … amounts to saying ‘in his body.’” Conversely, the corresponding formula ‘Christ in us’ can refer Eucharistically to His really being, in His body, in us, as our life. As Congar concludes, we fully realize this fullness of Christ “in us” in connection with the sacraments. Those who have so fully realized Him in the sacraments and especially in the Eucharist are thus made real sharers in one another by sharing the same Lord within; and thus the Church is formed.

Conclusion

This paper has explored an understanding of the Church from the model of ancient Israel, the people of the Old Covenant. On this model of a community of covenanting individuals enjoying the presence of God, we see that the Church is the union of individuals who participate in the consummated covenant through the very flesh and blood of Christ, and who commune with one another because they participate together in His flesh and blood. Literally, their souls bear the same Eucharistic mark or character, just as the bodies of Israelites bore the same mark of circumcision; and it is in this ontological way that the Church is really “one body.”

In this way, we have perhaps addressed why, given the data of Christ’s incarnation and Passion, we have a community that emerges from these events; obedience to the form of the covenant results in a community inevitably, since (in a crude way of putting it) we are what we eat. As with Israel, God gives Himself to us in fulfillment of His covenant when we accept His offer bodily, but now His body is the Temple where we meet Him, and obedience to this covenant (“take, eat”) naturally results in the Church.

Understanding the emergence of the Church in this way, we can understand more about the Church herself. Rahner holds that “the Church is the fundamental sacrament and that the opus operatum is the radical self-expression and actualization of this Church.” However, such a statement must be qualified by the recollection that the Church is never self-existent and always refers back to the moment of her birth; Calvary is a more fundamental sacrament than she, and (as Rahner would agree) the doctrine of the opus operatum is fundamentally the radical “self expression and actualization” of her Lord and His grace. The Church is nothing more nor less than the “historically visible form of eschatalogically victorious grace” of Calvary. In an even more fundamental way, just as the Church was once and for all born from the side of the Bridegroom who died for her, she is always being constituted by His Eucharistic body. I proposes that this is the best vein in which to embrace Rahner’s statement that “the sacraments, precisely as events in the spiritual life and sanctification of the individual, have an ecclesiological aspect.”

Several implications for contemporary ecclesiology might emerge from these ideas. First, in the area of Catholic apologetics regarding the sacraments, it might be noted that if there is no real presence nor ex opere operato in the sacraments, then there can be no ontologically joined Church in reality. There may be a communion of love and fellowship, or a juridical union of mere community; but such a fellowship certainly falls short of the strong sense of Paul’s references to a community of diverse parts so united as to constitute one body capable of monogamous “nuptial” union to Christ, and of Christ’s language of a fellowship of believers being as closely knit to one another in the same way that the Father and Son, who are united by being one in substance. As St. Paul states in I Corinthians 11, it is the failure to discern the body of Christ that results in uncharitable disunity; those who truly discern the body are then incorporated into it together, with charity following. It is not the other way around.

Secondly, the language of “covenant” by which many reformed traditions conceive of their ecclesiology, is shown neither to do justice to the Old Covenant, nor to allow for a sense of continuity with it, since such an interpretation certainly falls short of the practice of Israel, whose covenantal response to God and union with one another was “inscribed” on their very bodies. According to Christ’s own words of institution, we must understand our fellowship in Him as a revision of the Old Covenant that remains in continuity with the New. For Israel, the divine covenant is inscribed in the flesh and anticipates God’s inscription upon the human heart. As we know from the model of Israel, the first people of God, whose covenant is inscribed in their very bodies, the real life of the Church is not internalized; rather, the life of the Church is Christ Himself, who may be internalized for the inscription of the heart when the gift of His very self is received by the communicant into the body.

In the words of Louis Bouyer, an over-emphasis on the Church as the mystical body of Christ to the exclusion of its ontological basis results in the (disastrous) result of the adjective swamping the noun. Where the Church begins to locate its source not in the sacrament of the Lord’s body but in mere theological concepts, the idea of the Church’s ontological link to Christ fades away into relatively colorless, sociological, organalogical, or juristic notions that stress legal fictions and the merely juridical bonds that link the Church to its Head. Rather, an adequate ecclesiology should emphasize the Eucharist as the communal re-membering of the body of Chris, as each Christian takes the same life of Christ into himself; the body of Christ is individualized and commodified in the Host, and its effects become a reality in the hidden in the interior life of the individual heart. The union of many identically characterized hearts becomes the Church. The Eucharist constructs, makes, and makes visible the Church; the Eucharist makes unity. As Cavanaugh puts it, “to participate in the Eucharist is to be caught up into what is really real, the body of Christ. Human persons, body and soul, are incorporated into the performance of Christ’s corpus verum.”

But you have come to Mount Zion, to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, to the Church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the judge of all men, to the spirits of righteous men made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. Hebrews 12:22-24

I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes…for the old order of things has passed away." Revelation 21: 2-4

It is truly the one, identical Lord, whom we receive in the Eucharist, or better, the Lord who receives us and assumes us into himself. St Augustine expressed this in a short passage which he perceived as a sort of vision: eat the bread of the strong; you will not transform me into yourself, but I will transform you into me. In other words, when we consume bodily nourishment, it is assimilated by the body, becoming itself a part of ourselves. But this bread is of another type. It is greater and higher than we are. It is not we who assimilate it, but it assimilates us to itself, so that we become in a certain way “conformed to Christ”, as Paul says, members of his body, one in him.

We all “eat” the same person, not only the same thing; we all are in this way taken out of our closed individual persons and placed inside another, greater one. We all are assimilated into Christ and so by means of communion with Christ, united among ourselves, rendered the same, one sole thing in him, members of one another.

Pope Benedict XVI

Bibliography

Cavanaugh, William T. Torture and the Eucharist: Theology, Politics and the Body of Christ (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998), Part III. “Eucharist”, p. 205- 278.

Congar, Yves. The Mystery of the Church, trans. A.V. Littledale (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1960), “The Church and its Unity,” p. 58-97.

Congar, Yves. The Mystery of the Temple: The Manner of God’s Presence to His Creatures from Genesis to Apocalypse (Westminster: The Newman Press, 1961).

Dulles, Avery, S.J. Models of the Church (New York: Doubleday & Co., Inc., 1974).

Rahner, Karl. Church and the Sacraments (New York: Herder and Herder, 1964).

Rahner, Karl. The Priesthood, trans. Edward Quinn (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973), “Eucharist” p. 208-216.

Ratzinger, Joseph A. “Is the Eucharist a Sacrifice?” in The Sacraments: An Ecumenical Dilemma, ed. Hans Kung, 66-77 (New York: Paulist Press, 1967).

Vonnier, Dom Anscar O.S.B. The New and Eternal Covenant (London: Burns Oates & Washbourne Ltd., 1930).

Sermon for the Eve of the Feast of the Visitation...

2007-05-30T08:48:00.000-07:00

by Father Lee Nelson

I’d like to flesh out something tonight which is not talked about much in the Church, when perhaps it should be, and that is the idea of Mary as the Ark of the New Covenant.

What I hope to do is draw some parallels that will allow us to see the similarities, as well as the differences, between Mary and the Ark.

The Ark of the Covenant is the box of acacia wood, covered with gold, that the Lord commanded through Moses that the Israelites should make to house the Tablets of the Covenant, a jar of manna, and Aaron’s rod. Through the history of Israel, as outlined in not only the Exodus, but also in the Books of Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles, the Ark is seen to be the very presence of the Lord among the people.

Eventually, when the Temple was built, the Ark came to rest in the Temple in the Holy of Holies.

When the Temple was first destroyed by the Babylonians, the ark was taken as part of the spoils, never to be recovered again. Perhaps it was melted down into Babylonian idols, perhaps it is hidden in some government warehouse in Washington, D.C.

Mary, of course, to us is the tabernacle and Ark of the New Covenant. For nine months, she carries the presence of the Lord - the living Word - in her womb. That she is the Ark of the New Covenant is not something that theologians have drawn out over the years, it is something stated right in the pages of Scripture.

My hope is that this “mini Bible-study” of sorts will bear this out.

First, we turn to Exodus, Chapter 40. The Ark of the Covenant has just been completed and placed within the tabernacle. Exodus recounts to us the following:
“the cloud covered the meeting tent and the glory of the Lord filled the dwelling. Moses could not enter the meeting tent, because the cloud settled down upon it and the glory of the Lord filled the dwelling"

What is happening here is that the the Glory of the Lord, the shekhinah glory as it is called in the Old Testament, covers the tent of meeting - in other words it “overshadows it.”

When we turn to the Gospel of Luke we hear the Angel Gabriel tell Mary when she asks “how can this be since I am a virgin?” He tells her - “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” Here we see that the Holy Spirit comes upon Mary and overshadows her just as the glory of the Lord overshadowed the Ark of the Old Covenant.

The difference, of course, is that Mark - the Ark of the New Covenant - contains in her body true God and true Man. The Ark of the Old Covenant did not contain a bodily presence, but the true spiritual presence of God who is a spirit.

Next, we turn to Second Samuel, Chapter 6, where we hear that the Israelites lose hold of the Ark to the Philistines. King David gathers thirty thousand men to go and take hold of the Ark again. As they’re dragging the ark across a threshing floor, an ox stumbles, and a man named Uzzah grabs hold of the Ark to keep it from falling. Well, this is not a good thing to do, and so he is struck dead by the power of the Lord.

After this, David says this, and this is the important part - “How can the ark of the LORD come to me?”

Compare this with the words of Elizabeth in todays Gospel reading: “why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”

This is a very explicit reference, one which any Jew would have picked up on. Mary is the New Ark, and within her is the presence of the Lord.

Later on in the Sixth Chapter of Second Samuel, King David leaps for joy before the Ark when it is brought into Jerusalem.

Compare this with what happens in the Gospel of Luke, especially important on this Feast of the Visitation - who leaps before the Lord - John the Baptist! He leaps in his mother Elizabeth’s womb - not because of the ark - but because of whom the ark contains - namely the Word of God, just as David had leaped before the ark - not because of the ark, but because of what the ark contained - the Word of God.

There is another parallel as well. Before bringing the Ark to Jerusalem, David places the Ark in a house belonging to Obed-edom the Gittite for three months - the exact amount of time which Mary spent with Elizabeth. In addition, both the home of Obed-edom and the home of Elizabeth and Zechariah are in the hill country of Judea, maybe a short walk from each other.

Why is all of this important?

It is important, not only because of the parallels, but because of the high place this gives not only to Jesus the Word of God, but also to Mary His Mother.
We allude to this in the Collect for the Feast of the Visitation: “Father in heaven, by whose grace the virgin mother of thy
incarnate Son was blessed in bearing him, but still more blessed in keeping thy word:”

She is blessed in bearing Him. In fact, both Elizabeth and Mary say this.

Elizabeth says “Blessed are you among women.”

Mary says “from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.” Mary, this humble girl, says this about herself.

The source of the blessing, of course, is the very presence of the Incarnate Word of God within her womb.

But, it is more than that. She is still more blessed in keeping the Word of God.
She keeps the word of God in two ways - first, in keeping Him in her womb, and second, in keeping the Commandments and remaining obedient to the Lord. This is of ultimate importance because it was only in the Protestant Reformation that anyone claimed Mary had sinned, a claim not made in Scripture. The undivided Church has always taught that Mary is without sin - that she is spotless. This is not to say that she is not in need of redemption through Her son. What it is to say is that God took the initiative in creating Mary to be a habitation well-suited to be his dwelling place.

This is why the Angel Gabriel refers to Mary as “full of grace.” Luke uses a very precise greek term which denotes that she is not only now full of grace, but always has been.

You might say a few things to this: but doesn’t this make her God? or aren’t all human beings sinners?

The reply I would give is that Adam and Eve prior to the Fall were without sin, and they were not even demi-gods. They still remained creatures. In fact, one might say that sin makes us less human. Sin, I would remind you as well is not a part of human nature.

To say “after all, we’re only human...” is not a very good excuse.

But, back to what concerns us this evening - Mary as the Ark of the New Covenant.
What we have to recognize is that Mary is most honored when she points us to her Son. The best icons of Mary and Her Son bear this out. Mary is hardly ever depicted without Her Son. Further, it is true to say that all Marian devotion is Devotion to Our Lord and Her Lord. In other words, Jesus cannot get lost in the shuffle.
But, we are still to honor Mary, just as the Israelites, under the Old Covenant, honored the Ark. We are to honor Her as our Mother and as the perfect tabernacle of the Lord Most High.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us.

Luther, Calvin, and Trent on Justification

2007-05-18T14:01:00.000-07:00

Task: Explain the views of either Luther or Calvin
on the justification of the sinner.

Why do Luther and Calvin insist that justification is by faith alone?

With significant reliance on Augustine and in reaction to Gabriel Biel (1420-1495), Luther insisted that justification was “by faith alone” because of the belief that humanity was totally impaired by the impact of the fall of Adam, such that nothing could tend to human salvation from the person himself. Throughout his work on justification, Luther addresses the issue of the certainty of human salvation with a somewhat novel explication of faith; in the western tradition, faith was understood to be an (intellectual) assent to the truth of what tradition teaches, whereas hope and love were understood to be functions of the will.

Luther proposes an idea of faith that is both forensic and unitive; faith “binds” us to Christ. (In Aristotelian terms, we would say that Christ is the form of faith. In interpersonal terms, we would say that faith joins us to Christ, much like a married couple is “joined,” but more deeply. If employing material terms, we would say that faith renders Christ and humanity become as having been cooked into one big lump – as a cake that’s been baked). In all of these senses, faith does not involve recognizing that you’ve been saved, but juridical a union to Christ, since Christ dwelling in the heart by faith is the righteousness that justifies us. Thus, Christ is present in the very faith itself, and the linking term to Christ is faith itself. Faith is not so much an action, but something more primordial, a kind of relationship that can create a new substance.

It is important for Luther, in his radical distrust of the human self and his insistence on the external nature of salvation, that faith takes us outside of ourselves to join us to God (as beings who have become utterly foreign to God), and makes us rely not on ourselves, but upon the truth and promise of God. Faith sees what Christ has done and naturally trusts it, leading us to look outside ourselves for faith and salvation. After all, if we looked inside ourselves we would see nothing good. But having relied on Christ with faith, faith also joins the person to Christ so that the person gains a new self.

The same can be said of Calvin, with the following qualifications and elaborations. Calvin’s concern in Institutes Book III is to resolve how we receive those benefits which the Father bestowed on His Son, that He might enrich us. As we are beneficiaries of Christ’s reward, Calvin considers how Christ’s effective merits take hold of us and are applied to us. Calvin argues that as long as Christ remains outside of us, His work is useless to us; we must obtain Christ’s benefits through faith, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, who joins us to Christ for salvation through the union with Christ that is accomplished through faith. Here, faith is defined as “a firm and certain knowledge of God’s benevolence towards us, founded on the truth of the freely given promises in Christ… revealed to our minds, sealed upon our hearts by the Holy Spirit.” Institutes III.2.7. Calvin thus balances the cognitive/affective aspects of faith in a very rich account, including both “knowledge… of benevolence… founded on the truth of a promise made in Christ (the reliability of one who has made a supreme promise to us- both revealed to the mind, sealed upon the heart,” etc.)

Thus, as with Luther, Calvin posits faith “uniting” persons to Christ, such that we are juridically made one body with Him and sharers in all that He is.

In what sense do Luther and Calvin see justification as having a forensic or legal character?

Luther and Calvin’s accounts of justification are both highly forensic; in fact, Luther often speaks as though God were fooling himself about our situation. God thus knows we are sinners, but God pretends that we are really just, in as much as we are ‘covered’ by Christ’s righteousness. (Luther’s image of choice is that of “snow falling on a dunghill.”) Luther draws these ideas Scriptural passages such as the Genesis 15/Romans 4 depiction of Abraham being “reckoned as” righteous; thus we are accounted righteous by God because Christ is righteous, not because we are righteous. These ideas were not new to medieval theology. Luther draws on previous theologians’ use of legal/economic metaphors to show that our salvation depends entirely on God’s acceptance of us through a “legal verdict” on God’s part, since no act of ours could be inherently worthy of salvation.

God’s “legal” verdict of our justification has to do with Luther’s notion of Christ’s “bearing” of human sin on the Cross, such that human sin is taken into the Logos and there traded for His imputed righteousness (significant church Fathers such as Cyril would have argued that sin does not so much “enter” Christ as it bounces off of Him , comes to an end, disappears, evaporates, disintegrates, etc. at encountering God Himself). In Luther’s scheme, Calvary is the great off- loading of sin onto Christ, so that we may take on His righteousness through a kind of legal transfer.

Calvin describes justification as the granting of mercy by Christ alone, followed by God’s acceptance, following by the remission of sins. As in Luther, righteousness is imputed by virtue of one’s union with Christ through faith.

What is the relationship between justification and holiness, or sanctification for Luther and Calvin?

For Luther, the primary sin is primordial mistrust of God’s benevolent promises; we are so corrupted by superstitions and idolatry emerging from mistrust that we can no longer see God in our natural capacities at all. Thus Luther emphasizes justification and expends separate notions of sanctification. Luther holds that having been justified, we inevitably and spontaneously begin to do good works; Luther thus makes no sharp distinction between discreet stages of “justification” and “sanctification.” Luther held that justification itself creates the substance of God in us, by our very relationship with Him itself, without any need for the ecusing cooperation of the will towards sanctification; in Luther’s own words, “faith makes the person.” For Luther, justification is the sum total of the Christian experience; sanctification has no salvific significance; sanctification is merely a sign of justification, which is given to the elect. For Luther, salvation itself has nothing to do with works of righteousness; salvation is not bound up in those works.

In sum, Luther holds that sanctification is divorced from justification, which occurs only through the imputed and alien grace of Christ; thus it would be possible to be a sinner, and yet to be saved at the same time. At the time of this imputation, the justification of the person is complete and instantaneous, occurring totally apart from the state of the person and his sanctity. While growth in holiness was important for Luther, it was not determinative, because the imputation of the alien righteousness of Christ was always purely gratuitous and far removed from anything that humanity might purport to “contribute.” Since righteousness is never our own, but always the imputed alien righteousness of Christ for Luther, the divine act of justifying pertains to the whole Christian life from the first moment on. God continually “regards” our works as righteousness, though they in reality are contaminated by sin, and only in this way are the “good works” of the justified pleasing and acceptable to God, but only in Christ.

For Calvin, sanctification plays a much more important role in Christian salvation. Calvin actually addresses sanctifcation before justification in the Institutes, presuming that given our understanding of the new life in Christ, the nature of the prior justification may be understood. Calvin makes a clear distinction between justification and sanctification, unlike Luther. Luther reasoned that having been justified, we begin to do good works; there is no such sharp distinction, since justification itself creates the substance of God in us, by the very relationship. Calvin, on the other hand, agrees that justification is a matter of forensic imputation, and the declaration of Christ’s righteousness, which must be followed by mortification/vivification. Both the benefits of justification and sanctification are received by faith, but they are very distinct.

The distinction between justification and sanctification for Calvin is best understood not as a sequential distinction, but rather as two discreet aspects of a double, twofold grace, both of which flow from Christ in our union with Him by faith, both being absolutely necessary for salvation. Though justification/sanctification are ultimately impossible to separate, in Calvin’s though, there no chronological relationship or order or priority; but the two are independent from each other, twin graces flowing from union with Christ. The two graces are necessary to one another; “we are not justified at all without works, although not at all by the works..”
Thus Calvin emphasizes sanctification, partly in response to Luther, for whom justification was the sum total of the Christian life. For Luther, sanctification has no real salvific significance. For Calvin, salvation is union with Christ and the enjoyment of the “twin graces” of union with Him. Both are integral to salvation, and are of equal value with regard to salvation, and it is impossible to have one without the other. In this regard, the Holy Spirit is very important for Calvin, since he links the Holy Spirit to the work of sanctification, which is essentially that of uniting us to Christ and participating in His life.

Calvin also emphasized sanctification as a function or sign of election; and the two are parallel graces proceeding purely from the same source; Christ justifies no one whom He does not also sanctify at the same time.

For Calvin, there is no salvation which does not include BOTH justification and sanctification; thus salvation is necessarily accomplished with good works, but works are not the sole condition.

What objections does the Council of Trent bring against the view of justification represented by Luther and Calvin? Why does Trent regard these objections as telling?

Luther’s language (more so than Calvin’s) is disturbing to some aspects of the Christian tradition. The fundamental objection is that Luther’s proposal fails to appreciate the work of the Holy Spirit, and the making of “new creatures” in Christ. It is thus objected that Luther’s proposal leaves the sinner ultimately untouched by the transformative, re-creative power of God’s love. These objections are summarized in the Canons of the Council of Trent on Justification.

Trent emphasizes the importance of human cooperation in salvation. Referring heavily to Aquinas, Trent describes a threefold chart of the movement from sin, to grace, and then to glory. In this progression, God’s initial grace justifies the sinner. The grace of God is then continually infused into the person, such that he is literally changed and re-made into the image and likeness of Christ by the grace of Christ. Trent thus insists on a kind of ‘realism’ with regard to righteousness; human righteousness is a real thing, in which a person can make progress, and which can, by God’s grace, become a characteristic of the human person. These ideas are opposed by Luther’s notion of righteousness as a mere legal fiction which God merely assigns to the person in grace.

1) The grace of God is made available to persons entirely apart from their merit or response. At baptism, the person is made a fully righteous, just human, with sins and their sins effects and punishment remitted. However, the inclination to sin remains even in the justified. The beginning of justification is thus the first movement from sin to grace when the person accepts God’s offer, and the first step is then followed by an increase in grace (this idea is opposed by Luther’s proposal that justification is final and total, and does not wax or wane, but is complete in the moment it is given).

2) Justification consists in sanctification, being made holy, not just remission of sins; rather justification and sanctification proceed together. Thus the unjust becomes just, and the enemy becomes a friend. Thus faith must be formed by love in order to amount to “saving faith;” and this sort of love must issue forth in works, and is necessary to the works.

3) Thus while the grace of conversion, as the first grace, cannot possibly be “merited” or elicited by humanity, but can only be passively received, Christians can convert themselves to their own justification, freely assenting to and cooperating with the prior, initiating grace of Christ which induces hope in God’s mercy, which blossoms further into more love of God. The process of increasing justification is thus a remission of sins and attendant, simultaneous sanctification and renewal in the making of a just man from an unjust man.

4) In sum: Trent responds to the principle of “justification by faith” by explaining that “faith is the beginning of human salvation, the foundation and root of it… brought about freely in as much as none of those things which preceed justification merit it.” Thus justification free/ but the full and final realization of it requires human cooperation in works that (brought about solely by God’s grace) evince love of God. Trent’s over-riding principle is concerned wit REAL RIGHTEOUSNESS, as opposed to Luther’s juridically declared righteousness.

Do Trent and your theologian really succeed in disagreeing about justification, or are the differences between them primarily verbal rather than substantive?

... to be resolved...

\

A Sermon for Mother's Day...

2007-05-12T22:41:00.000-07:00

Preached by Father Lee Nelson
St. Laurence Church
Southlake, Texas
May 13th, 2007

A friend of mine carries this quote in his pocket every day.

In fact, it’s on his business card.

It reads:

“The Most Important Person
The most important person on earth is a mother. She cannot claim the honor of having built Notre Dame Cathedral. She need not. She has built something more magnificent than any cathedral - a dwelling for an immortal soul, the tiny perfection of her baby’s body.....
The angels have not been blessed with such a grace. They cannot share in God’s creative miracle to bring new saints to Heaven. Only a human mother can. Mothers are closer to God the Creator than any other creature. God joins forces with mothers in performing this act of creation...
What on God’ good earth is more glorious than this:
to be a Mother.”

The thing you need to know about this friend of mine is that he was permanently disabled in Vietnam - he is bound to a wheelchair. He knows sacrifice better than most.

But, the other thing you need to know is that he runs a crisis pregnancy center in Fort Worth, right between Harris Methodist Hospital and Planned Parenthood.

When he’s in the grocery store, or out in public, and he sees a mother - maybe she’s being harassed by her children, maybe she has the look of sleepless nights in her eyes. Maybe she is young and unmarried, and pregnant.

He hands her his business card.

And they read - “Mothers are closer to God the Creator than any other creature. God joins forces with mothers in performing this act of creation...
What on God’ good earth is more glorious than this:
to be a Mother.”

You can imagine what that must be like. To be feeling like the most unappreciated person in the world, to be approached by a man in a wheelchair who lets you know that you are the most important person in the world because you cooperate with God in His most important task of bringing life to the world.

That’s the first message that I want to bring to you this morning.

That mothers are the most important people on earth.

They have been granted the greatest honor that a human being can ever receive - that of cooperating with God in the new life He gives, to be the workshop for the creation of souls.

It is a message that we need to hear, and not only on Mother’s Day. We need to hear it because motherhood is under attack in our society and culture.

We need to hear that Mothers are the most important people, because we deny it so often. When we think of success, we think about having success in business or politics, or popularity or status. Certainly not about motherhood.

And our society certainly does not send this message to our girls.

They grow in the midst of divided loyalties. They are told constantly that the same opportunities are available to them as the men, and this is true, but the cost is high. They are told to get out there on the field with the boys and succeed.
The trouble is that our society has revoked the uniqueness of womanhood from women. But the Church teaches that there is great glory in the gift of womanhood - that women are the very bedrock of humanity, and this is even more true of mothers.

The Church teaches that though equal, man and woman are not the “same.” They are different, indeed complementary - and this is God’s plan.

Mother’s Day provides us with an opportunity to reflect upon the gifts given to all women - whether they are mothers or not.

And this, again, is message that the Church needs to remember.

It is important to hear when our culture has lost sight of this essential understanding. Our culture has become so bankrupt that now some modern feminists refer to pregnancy as a “disease.”

It was not so for the first feminists. They looked to an ability to vote as their ticket to solidifying their unique place in society. They saw women working intolerable hours in factories, getting married later and later, and being detached from their children.

Even more, they saw that many women were rejecting the gift of motherhood in the most foul way. In order to avoid the shame of unwed motherhood, many women, even in the mid to late 1800s were seeking abortions.

About this, the great suffragist Susan B. Anthony wrote:
“No matter what the motive, love of ease, or a desire to save from suffering the unborn innocent, the woman is awfully guilty who commits the deed. It will burden her conscience in life, it will burden her soul in death; but oh, thrice guilty is he who...drove her to the desperation which impelled her to the crime!”

Elizabeth Cady Stanton agreed, writing:
“When we consider that women are treated as property, it is degrading to women that we should treat our children as property to be disposed of as we see fit.”

They saw abortion for what it was, and is, - degrading to women and mothers and inimical to the life-giving gift that God has given women.

When we fast-forward to today, the results are these:

1 and 1/3 million abortions are performed every year in this country.

Since the beginning of this Iraq war - over 5 million. Many times over the number killed in this current conflict.

The basic truth is that we should be completely sick over this tragedy. Some day in the future, generations to come might look upon abortion like we have slavery - as a horrible injustice.

In this day and age, we have to remember the simple line:
“Mothers are closer to God the Creator than any other creature.”

We must remember this so that we do not become apathetic towards life - life that is given by God in cooperation with mothers everywhere.

What is the work of every mother?

To nourish, to comfort, and to instruct.

To nourish.

It was that wonderful organization the La Leche League that reminded us in the 1950’s, when almost all babies in this country were bottle-fed, that part of a mother’s natural vocation is that of feeding her baby. It is such a part of who she is that it is built right into her body.

When so many were pushing for sameness between the sexes, it was this organization that recognized the God-given goodness that comes from breasts.

I don’t say this to be crass, but to say that it is quite amazing how over-sexualized we have become. What was at once viewed as the gift of God to babies everywhere has now been made almost pornographic. In all of this, we have denigrated a mother’s vocation to feed her children.

And then, with tv-dinners and Boston-Market, and now Central Market’s Cafe and a little place called “Dream Dinners,” we have all too often contracted this essential vocation of a mother.

I once dated a girl who boasted that the only things she knew how to cook were Mac and Cheese from a box and toast. I found her rather unattractive after that.

But, I would argue that it goes beyond food and milk.

It cuts to the heart of this problem of “sameness.”

How can we talk about womanhood and manhood in any recognizable fashion when there is no distinction between the two? How can the Church have any fruitful discussions about sex - when we have all-too-often forgotten what it really means to be created male and female?

You may find this notion rather sexist. Yet, I am serious when I say that we must recover a concept of food that goes beyond “just add water” if we are to recover sexual identity within our culture.

The simple point is this: Mothers - teach your daughters to cook - not so that they may be slaves to men, but so that they may fulfill the glory that God gives in motherhood.

To comfort!

One thing I have begun to realize in my 9-month tenure as a dad is that babies need comfort so that they can later become independent and bold.

Our little girl has been so nurtured and comforted that she is growing into a confident little 9 month old - perhaps she is a bit too confident.

Father Crary said last week that the root of the word comfort is the Latin word “fortis” meaning strong.

It is the same word that gives us the cardinal virtue of Fortitude, which is the most perfect form of strength - strength in adversity and suffering. It should not surprise us at all that children who grow up to be strong in suffering were comforted when they were younger - and the main source of comfort was to be found in their mothers.

What a great calling this is!

That mothers give strength to their children by comforting them!

We knew this growing up because our mothers had an ability to “kiss it and make it better.” I wondered about this when I a bit older - what power there was in a simple peck on a bruise - but I didn’t understand it until I understood that strength comes from comforting affection.

And God knows this. He knows that the way to generate perseverance and fortitude is through comforting love. This is why the great saints have had the courage to face their struggles - that they knew the comfort which is to be found in God - that they had become enthralled by His love.

My sisters - think upon the power that comes from the comfort you can give to your children - whether young or old.

The last thing that mothers have to offer us is instruction.

What I mean by that is not that mothers primarily teach in an academic sense, or even that they primarily teach morality to their children, though these are true.

No, mother primarily teach children the most important lesson they have to learn.
And that lesson is love.

Mothers teach by example through self-sacrifice, through self-donation. By making the simple sacrifices - they teach love.

The kitchen floor won’t return in twenty years to thank you for cleaning it.

The employer in twenty years probably won’t send you so much as a birthday card.

But, children return constantly to thank their mothers for loving them and caring for them.

The reason they give this thanks is that through the sacrifice of their mothers, they learned what it means to be people of love.

These three activities in the lives of mothers - nourishment, comfort, and instruction - are the ingredients of saints - holy people made separate for a holy task. Mothers make saints.

In the end, what God will make clear is that the most important person of all, in the history of the world, was a mother.

She was a mother who fed and nourished her son, so that he might feed the world.

She was a mother who comforted her son, so that he would be strong in the face of suffering.

She was a mother who instructed her son - who taught him the value of self-sacrifice, of self-donation for the sake of love.

The most important person of all will be, not a President, not a philosopher, not a scientist, not a business executive, but a mother - the mother of all Christians, the mother of the Church, and the mother of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

For when Jesus feeds us His body and blood, he feeds us with a body and blood given to Him by His mother.

The Church teaches this clearly - that his humanity comes straight from the body of Mary.

When Jesus sends the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, He knows the power of this comfort, because His the same child that was comforted by His mother. By her comfort, she made him a son fit for the battle, ready to suffer and even die for the sins of the world.

When Jesus gives His life in this way, He does so emboldened by the sacrifice of a mother who sacrifices and gave herself to Him.

Yes, it will be revealed.

The most important person in the world is a mother.

Thanks be to God.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

Christians, Hinduism, and the Bhagavad Gita

2007-02-28T17:01:00.000-08:00

Reading and Discussing the Bhagavad Gita in its Context

Mary C. Moorman

There is a sad disparity between the devotional realities of Hinduism and the denunciatory tone with which the Western context has traditionally received the Hindu tradition in its paradigmatic text, the Bhagavad Gita. Sharpe notes a particular disparity between Western Christianity’s official mandate to respect and even cherish the positive aspects of Hinduism as harbingers of salvific grace, contrasted with the clumsy and suspicious voices of Western Christian apologists on point.

Christian Apologist Gregory Koukl offers an all too typical treatment in his Reflections on Hinduism of 1993. Koukl’s basic moves include denouncing Hinduism as ultimately untenable and illusory, epistemologically chaotic, morally bankrupt and confused, radically negative of all positive aspirations, hopeless, and contradictory to the point of absurdity. Koukl reveals his basic frustration with Hinduism in these terms: “so a person who rejects rationality, a person who rejects logic, a person who rejects the world as a real thing and contends that it is merely an illusion can therefore have nothing to say about the real world because the real world is not real. And any commentary about it would be essentially acknowledging its reality. Any commentary trying to correct your view, such that you would now believe the world is an illusion, must be done by using rationality which ultimately doesn't exist. That's why if Hinduism were true we could never know it. I think that's a valid point whenever you're dealing with someone from Eastern religion.”

Eric Sharpe describes the disposition of the 19th century evangelical Christians who encountered Hindu culture without consulting formative Hindu texts, and who thus judged popular Hindu practices with suspicion of the Gita’s narrative framework, internal inconsistency, unconvincing ethics, impracticability, indifference, and fatalism. A more benign tone of “natural theology” view was promoted by such Western Christians as Murice Boyle, who proposed that “the Hindu asks important questions concerning human nature/destiny, but that only the Christian Gospel can provide adequate answers to these questions,”and the French Abbe Dubois, who again affirmed that Gita- as a piece of natural theology- was sufficient to identify human problems, but not their ultimate solution. In sum, the western sentiment was content to conclude that “there are wounds which Hinduism cannot soothe.”
In this regard, although Sharpe describes the Gita as “a scripture for the world,” he is quick to acknowledge that in the modern “free interchange” of Scriptures, the (highly mobile) Gita inevitably becomes prone to misunderstanding when it is “torn loose from its religious matrix.” Among its various audiences, the Gita has been received as a romantic symbol of “universal spirituality” to the ambitious, curious, and religiously conflicted American Transcendentalists of the 19th century; Sharpe notes that the world has generally approached the Gita from one of two angles: “either as a piece of archaic literature, to be dissected, analyzed and placed in an essentially remote religio-historical context, or as an exotic insight into the ultimate mystery of the universe, (being) Hindu only incidentally.” In these modes of approach, most readers have not even pretended to be able to evaluate the Gita in its original form or native setting, and the interpretation of the Gita’s “message” has been of variable quality, being divorced from the (potentially myriad) meanings/essences which the text has born for generations of devout readers.

Sharpe adds that attempts to discover “what the Gita might have meant originally,” or “was intended to achieve” are hardly simple options, since different translators bring to bear different impressions, and each translation assumes the literary conventions of its own period and country. Sharpe particularly descries the translated Gita’s treatment in the West as a resource for glamorized “mysticism,” as an aesthetic, popular offering, and as a means of political expedience for European colonizers. Sharpe laments the dearth of Christian readers who have been willing and able to approach the Gita within its proper context.

I. The Teaching of the Gita

Commenting upon devotional and practical reference to the Bhagavad Gita, Eknath Easwaran explains that Sri Krishna’s message “describes the eternal truth of life that the fiercest battle we must wage is against all that is selfish, self-willed and separate in us.” In this vein, Easwaran elaborates on the Gita’s “timeless” explication and treatment of the human problematic, the Hindu view of ultimate reality, and the offered paths of liberation.

In particular, the Gita describes the human problematic as a “war within,” typified by Arjuna’s insistence that he and Krishna drive their chariot between two armies poised for a battle. Here, Arjuna fully realizes that it is his own “kinsmen established in opposition.” Arjuna then “falls into confusion” and mournful reluctance at this realization, and hence represents the confused, ego-ridden individual faces who the tragic conflict that results from his self-will and his craving to satisfy personal desires, and who thus experience insecurity, loneliness, and despair. Arjuna symbolically drops his bow in despair, and his mind reels at a situation from which he can forsee nothing good proceeding; after all, this is a battle between those whom he loves most dearly.

Easwaran comments that Arjuna’s own agonized hesitation, paralysis of the will, inertia, and incapacity to act at the edge of battle depicts the universal situation of humanity’s confusion and futility as we face the fact of a disunity that persists both within ourselves, and between ourselves and the world around us. In short, we thus become contrary to the nature of the universe; Easwaran points that each person has “manifestations of the disunity seething within (his) own consciousness.” Accordingly, Arjuna dramatically utters his reluctance “overwhelmed by sorrow;” he “casts away his bow and arrows, and he sat down in his chariot in the middle of the battlefield.” Nonetheless, the harbingers of the Gita’s solution are apparent even in the first chapter of the Gita, in the evocative statement of Sanjaya: “let everyone take his proper place and stand firm…”

The Gita’s view of ultimate reality, as expressed in Krishna’s responses to Arjuna (whose “eyes are burning with tears of self-pity and confusion”), lies in the promise of the resolution of this conflict in “(discovering) the Lord within (who) is the supreme purpose of life, worthy of all our time, energy, resources, and dedication.” The discovery and practice of this “Lord within” both consummates creation’s own evolution towards a total unitive state, and also fulfills each individual’s supreme purpose: the realization of the unity of life, as enjoyed by “the victorious (person) who has conquered himself,” and has “eradicated all that is selfish within him” even - in the midst of his daily life, and especially through the performance of his socially determined duties.

Thus, the Gita’s solution to the human problematic proceeds as follows, as narrated by Krishna’s reproachful correction and instruction to Arjuna: Arjuna must not yield to weakness, but must “arise with a brave heart and destroy the enemy.” Though Arjuna protests further about his own grief at this prospect, and the questionable moral implications, he admits that in his own paralysis of will and confusion, he will “fall at Krishna’s feet” and submissively receive his instruction. Krishna refers Arjuna to the example of “the wise,” who “realize that sorrow has no cause,” and who remain unaffected by temporal, sensorial changes; thus “the wise” “grieve neither for the living nor for the dead.” Though humans change in form through the cycles of life and its fleeting changes, there will never be a time when they cease to exist; thus their deaths in battle are relatively inconsequential. The “glorious,” true self is unmanifested and remains (like Krishna himself) beyond all change, impermeable even to harm and inevitable death. Thus, Arjuna should act with enlightened indifference and detachment, and considering his dharma (which Krishna particularly endorses- ), he should not vacillate at the prospect of grievous war, since shirking his duty would be the greatest sin; rather, given that there is nothing more glorious for one in his station as a warrior, he should fight.

In practice, Krishna recommends that Arjuna “listen to the principles of yoga,” in order to attain spiritual awareness, self-control, and the singleness of purpose- even in the midst of great distraction- that results from seeking Krishna himself. The ultimate goal of such disciplines- which result in laudable detachment and “holy indifference” towards the rewards of work - is the capacity to “see the Lord everywhere,” and a “heart that is completely united in love for the Lord of love:” This vision of “the Lord” unifies the human heart by subsuming all other desire and allows for indifference and consequent peace.

As Easwaran elaborates, humanity across the ages- and in contemporary contexts as well- must fight their own internal “wars;” each one must realize the unity underlying all life, and live in harmony with this awareness in the midst of daily life, by “learning to see the Lord in everyone,” and by “ensuring the joy of others.” These means of the unification of human consciousness that lead to the climax of meditation- “coming to rest in the Lord-” are also daily means of reducing human self- will, “the only obstacle between the Lord and us.” Such paths to liberation from the “perennial opposition” within the universe include selfless service, patience for others, wisdom in action, renunciation, and meditation; by these disciplines one stands against the violence within himself and thus inspires others to the same, thereby benefiting everyone. On the whole, Arjuna’s dilemma and Krishna’s instruction at the edge of battle are so critical to the human situation, because each individual must “fight that which he has considered to be a part of himself.” As Krishna urges in Gita III.41 and 43, “fight with all your strength, oh Bharata; controlling your senses, attack your enemy directly, who is the destroyer of knowledge and realization…let the Atman rule the ego… slay the fierce enemy that is selfish desire.”

From this emphasis on attentiveness, renunciation, and contemplative union with Krishna, Arjuna persists in seeking “one (moral) path to follow to the supreme good,” given that one does not attain freedom by shirking action or work. Here, Krishna’s admonition is clear: “you are obliged to act, Arjuna… fulfill all your duties.” From Krishna’s prior instruction, Arjuna understands that he is to perform his duties in full, but with detachment and selfless inattention to personal profit, since Brahman is present in every act of selfless service. In sum, the Gita’s “rule of life” could be summarized in the following injunction: the welfare of others, rather than the welfare of the self, is to be sought in every (detached) action performed in the fulfillment of duty, which is ultimately performed for the sake of Krishna himself.

II. The Experience of the Gita: Ghandi and Ethics

At this point, faced with the Gita’s seeming moral indifference, supplemented only by Easwaran’s highly affective devotional commentary, it is most helpful to refer to David Atkinson’s account of the lived experience of the Gita in the public life of its modern disciple Ghandi, who took the Gita as the quintessential work pertaining to the adhikara of the experienced and lived moral life of “truth in action.” Here, Atkinson portrays Ghandi as reading the Gita in the same way as Easwaran: Arjuna is taken as the archetype of every human, whose spiritual growth and understanding are impeded by attachment to consequences. Arjuna must thus enter the allegorical “war” of his own struggle between good and evil, taking Krishna as the desired object of perfect human self-realization, and as the object of self-sacrificing, detached action in love. In Ghandi’s scheme, adherence to the Gita’s admonition to “perform one’s duties” and to “see the divine in all things” will promote the disinterested, sympathetic thought and action that liberates and transforms the individual, and then his society, into the unitive and nonactive ideal of union.

While Ghandi certainly provides a lived demonstration of the Gita’s meaning and practical relevance, Western readers might remain confused at several critical points. Ghandi’s example certainly refutes ignorant accusations of basic “agnostic indifference” and “moral confusion” at the heart of the Gita. Nonetheless, Western readers may still wonder about Ghandi’s drawing moral distinctions between “good” and “evil” in the ideally nondual experience advocated by Krishna.

Here, David Loy explicates such apparent problems by hermeneutically explaining that the Gita’s radical nonduality pertains to the ever-continuing aim of the transformation of dualistic modes into a unified, nondualistic reality. The best yogi practices in such a way that the combined disciplines yields “equanimity as each mode is taken not as the attaining of something new, but as merely transforms what it already is into a nondual mode.” Furthermore, in as much as the Gita transforms work and duty into a sacrifice to Krishna, the Gita cuts through all selfish motivation. In orientation to Krishna, intentional action becomes “really equivalent to no intention at all”- since Krishna’s higher nature is the transcendent ground of all being. In submitted union with Krishna, human action is realized to be one with His non action, human being with his non -being, etc.

Finally, the reader who approaches the Gita from a Western framework and understanding will be assisted by Sebastian Painadath’s delineation of critical points for Western (Christian)/Hindu dialogue. In describing the “integrated spirituality” of the Gita, Painadath presumes Loy’s concept of “transformative nonduality” when he describes the “transpersonal divine mystery (that) reveals itself as the personal Lord, inviting total surrender from the human seeker,” and the free pursuit of dharma, the total harmony of true nature according to unitive love. Painadath here refers to the following mutual themes, familiar to both Christian and Hindu conceptualization: the story of the incapacitated human in agonized quest for the personal God; consummation in total surrender to this personal God; and the consolation of inner enlightenment through conformity and obedience to God. Painadath highlights further points of Christian/Hindu agreement in the notions of the personal and self-revealing God in search of the human person, who makes His fundamental inexhaustible mystery cognizable and experienced in the manifestation of the “redeeming” Lord Krishna; the “result” of such encounter is the achievement of desired union between God and the person through various phases of textual knowledge, cultic devotion, ritual devotion, and especially the performance of duties.

Christians in Conversation with Hindus

For purposes of Hindu-Christian conversation, one particular issue that invites nuanced scrutiny and greater conversational depth emerges at the point where Painadath discusses one of Hinduism’s “potential challenges” to Western Christians: namely, the Hindu premise that “the history of humanity is the history of salvation,” in an ongoing cycle of divine revelation and human progress. Here, parties to a Christian/Hindu conversation might query whether it is possible that one particular historical event might be absolutely central and normative for the entire historical process. In particular, conversation partners might recall that the paradigmatic encounter between Krishna and Arjuna is in fact canonized and upheld (in Ghandi’s terms) as the “quintessence” of Hindu understanding. If Hindus are willing to acknowledge a point of “quintessential” revelation, they will be much more sympathetic to Christian claims of the quintessential revelation of God in Christ, and in the quintessential delivery of redemption in His crucifixion and resurrection.

A second and related dialogical issue involves Painadath’s statement that all moments of divine revelation stand in dialectic relationship to one another, without uniqueness or precedence. It is at this point that parties to an authentic Christian-Hindu conversation would need to explore the criticocreative dialogical options available to them, given that authentic Christian belief holds not only that God reveals Himself truly "at various times and in various different ways," but also, as the relevant Epistle excerpt continues, “God has in these last days spoken (definitively) to us by his Son, who is the exact representation of God’s being.” Such apparent disjunctures regarding the priority and uniqueness of relevant faith claims requires exploration beyond the prior limitations posed by refusals to acknowledge a paradigmatic or consummate human encounter with the Divine.

Receiving the Word of God Part I - Father Lee Nelson

2007-02-25T19:29:00.000-08:00

“The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.”

From the Letter of Paul to the Romans, I speak to you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

Before I begin this morning, I’d like to state that it is not common or normal for lowly curates such as myself to get to preach two Sundays in a row. Conventional wisdom among parish rectors states that part and parcel of keeping curates in their place is to let them preach a maximum of once a month. Curates are typically employed to do the Rector’s dirty work, and as such, should not be allowed to take from the limelight of the pulpit too much.

That may be true for most, but I am very thankful that Father Crary is intent on giving me opportunities for practice, even if he is, in fact, going away for the week, and God forbid he would have to prepare a sermon during a week in Wisconsin.

By the way, I checked the weather, and the high is not set to exceed 33 degrees. So enjoy yourself.

That being said, I will, in fact, be preaching next Sunday as well, and thought that I would preach a miniseries of sorts that has been brewing in my mind for some time, under the heading of “Receiving the Word of God.”

It is an often misunderstood term - the Word of God.

Some immediately think of stacks of black leather bibles, or of preachers in pinstripe suits, but this a rather inadequate impression. For the last several hundred years, Christians have focused, even hyper-focused on the Word of God as verbal and written.
That is certainly part of it, but it is not the whole of it. In the Old and New Testaments themselves, the “Word of God” is a much more dynamic concept.
For Saint Paul, the Word of God is hard at work, toiling in the believer. For the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews, the Word of God is “living and active,” it discerns the human heart, and much more than that, the Word of God is not so much an it as it is a He.
The Word of God is personal, and consists of the Person of Jesus Christ.

So, when we talk about receiving the Word of God in any form, we are by necessity speaking of receiving Jesus.

For the Evangelist John writes in this way:
“He [the Word] came unto his own, and his own received him not. But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name.”

Our reading from the Letter to the Romans this morning states: “if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” And that is not so much an act of believing as it is an act of receiving the power of God in Jesus Christ, the Word of God.

In short, receiving is believing.

That is a concept which doesn’t necessarily jive with our culture. In this culture, one must truly know in order to believe. Facts must be checked, evidences weighed, so on and so forth, because everyone must be an authority.

But, for the Christian religion, there is but one authority, Jesus Christ himself, the author and source of all life, and namely the Word of God. In order to believe in Him, we must receive that which He has given.

To be sure, many speak of knowing the Bible, or of knowing “about” God, like someone would know business or law or particle physics. But, Christianity is quite different. Christian knowledge is not knowledge of a subject, it is knowledge of a person. And that knowledge, as we have said, comes by receiving, receiving the Word of God.

The great problem here is that we Americans are not typically good at the act of receiving. We live in an ambitious and driven culture, consumed with “going and getting.” And thus, when we think about the accumulation of Christian knowledge, we tend to thing about the knowledge that one has attained, rather than received.

If we achieve the Word of God, we attain it by our own principles, by our own rules, we render it useless. We may, in fact, learn some things. But, they will not be at all useful to us.
But, if we receive the Word of God, letting it seep deep into our consciousness, pervading every aspect of our lives, to, as the Letter to the Hebrews states, separate soul and spirit, joint and tendon, the Word of God will be most useful, in that it will lead us to the contemplation of God himself, it will lead us to Heavenly glory.

If we begin to think in this way, we will begin to see Jesus the Word of God not merely as a means to an end, but as the very end itself. We will begin to see that Jesus is not a riddle to be figured out, but one to be let through the doors of our hearts, that he may make his home in us.
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any one hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.”

Yes, the Word of God must be received.

But how?

In the Book of Acts, the Word of God is described almost like a virus, implanting itself and spreading from body to body. Or like a wildfire, jumping from tree to tree. We read in the Book of Acts such phrases as:
“the word of God increased.” Acts 6:7
“the word of God grew and multiplied.” Acts 12:24
The people glorify the Word of God, the apostles proclaim it.

There is a distinct difference, however, between what happens in the Book of Acts and the Old Testament. In the Old Testament, the Word of God is only received by the prophets, those select few who have a word from the Lord for the people.

The difference in the Acts of the Apostles is that now the Holy Spirit indwells the Church as a whole.

What this is not to mean is that each Christian thus has the ability to interpret the revealed Word of God. Far from in fact, for, as we have already said, the Word of God is received.
There were often those in the early Church that attempted to interpret the Word of God on their own. Often, there were those who attempted to describe the Person of Christ in their own way, outside of the revelation of the Church. There were those who had supposedly received a “new revelation.”

To these, the Apostles were particularly certain to clarify the nature of the Word of God.
Paul asks the Corinthians whether they were the only ones the Word of God reached, as if they had received it in some sort of vacuum. He is constant in stating that the teaching of the Church regarding the Person of Christ is either what it is, or it is completely useless.
Peter states that “that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one's own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came by the impulse of man, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.”

The point is this, that the Word of God is transmitted within the Church. That whether we are talking about Jesus himself, or the Scriptures, or doctrine, or moral teaching, when we speak of the Word of God, we speak of Jesus whose body is the Church.

You might ask “which Church?”

The answer is that the Church is not a dead body, it is a living body, and that it is One - that there is a cohesion of teaching within the living body of the Church, and that there is a cohesion of reception of the Word of God.

Really the question to be asked is not “which Church?,” but rather “is this understanding in
continuity with the truth of the Word of God as the Church has received it?”

This means that if a doctrine is new or foreign to the Church, it is likely to be a departure from the Word of God received, and that it is to be avoided.

A theologian of the 4th Century, Vincent of Lerins, put it this way: “Now in the Catholic Church itself we take the greatest care to hold that which has been believed everywhere, always and by all.”

This says something of the constancy of the Word of God, because it is after all, but one word, not the Words of God, but the Word of God, one constant word spoken to His people.
This word may be experienced in a variety of ways, but the word itself is unchanging.
So far, we have said that the Word of God must be received, that the Word of God is Jesus Himself, and that the Word of God is intended to be received within the body of revelation, the Church.

Next week, we will turn to the practicalities of receiving the Word of God, but for now, the focus is on what the Word of God does to the human person.

Before anything else, we must recognize that the Word of God has as its effect, the salvation of mankind. The Apostle James writes: “...put away all filthiness and rank growth of wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.”
Salvation is always accompanied by sanctity, and in this, the Word is used by God to cleanse.
The Psalmist writes: “How can a young man keep his way pure? By guarding it according to thy word.”

But, the most perfect way is this:
That, in the Person of Christ, the Word of God is given to man most perfectly in Jesus - the Word made flesh.

We hear in the Gospel today the account of Jesus going head to head with Satan in the Wilderness.

At first glance, it may appear that what Jesus does in response to the temptation of Satan is to quote scripture. I have heard this a number of times, in fact I have preached it myself. But, I wish to offer you another view on this.

Satan is clashing not with a man armed with the Scriptures as his shield against temptation. He is clashing with the Word of God made man. This sets up a very different battle, because Jesus not only knows the Scriptures, he is the Word of God, and it gives him power.
Very often, what is drawn from this text is the idea that the Christian can do battle with Satan if armed with the appropriate array of biblical texts. Not so. Satan is big and bad. He’ll whoop you up one side and down the other. He’ll eat you for lunch, no matter how many bible verses you know.

But, when he comes into battle with the Word of God, the two-edged sword, living and active, he’d better watch himself.

Thus, when the Christian, having received the word of God, living and active, incarnate within him, faces temptation, there is true power, power enough to preserve us in the face of temptation, to keep us in the way of righteousness, and to bring us to heavenly glory.
This is after all what Jesus intends, and it is why he gives us his word to give us a portion of His power. This is not power of an earthly sort, such as the power of presidents and dictators, it is power of a heavenly sort, the power to become children of God.

Next week, we will discuss “Receiving the Word of God” in three distinct areas, first of the Scriptures, second in the Liturgy, and third, in the Preaching of the Word.
Three distinct ways of receiving the Word of God.

But, before next week, this:
In order to receive, I must have a place prepared.
In order to receive something, I must have room for it.

No one expects the delivery of furniture without first finding a place for the old furniture. No one puts new furniture in front of the old. No, they take the old furniture out.

Jesus says “no one puts new wine into old wineskins; if he does, the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost, and so are the skins; but new wine is for fresh skins."

Jesus also uses the parable of the sower of seeds, with some seed falling along the path, some in rocky soil, some in weedy soil, and some in good soil. The seed is the word, but it cannot be received by, nor can it grow in, unreceptive soil.

This week, you might ask yourself - what parts of me are hardened to God’s Word? What parts of me are unreceptive to God’s Truth? What is there that I believe that is not from God or His Church?

These questions might sting a little bit, but it would be a shame to talk about ways to receive the Word of God without first preparing the soil. A farmer who doesn’t plow before sowing will never reap.

Pray that God will show you your hardened, unreceptive parts.

Allow Him to prepare a place in you for His Word.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
AMEN.

Sermon for Ash Wednesday 2007

2007-02-21T05:50:00.001-08:00

Father Lee Nelson

“Yet even now,” says the Lord, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments.”
From the Book of the Prophet Joel, I speak to you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

Locusts.

In the spring of 1915, swarms of locusts buzzed about in the skies over Palestine. The sky turned dark, and droppings from these insects fell on the land for five days.
During this time, the males and females mated, and the females deposited egg clusters of 50 to 80 eggs apiece. After thirty to forty days, the eggs hatched, unleashing a ravenous horde of yet more locusts, hungry for one thing - crops.
In fact, all of the vegetation in the region was stripped bare in those days between
March and October of 1915, by millions upon millions of swarming locusts, each 5 to 7 inches long.

The result, of course, was famine.

“Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the LORD is coming, it is near, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness!”

Joel meant by these images of clouds, as he prophesies to the people of Israel, one thing - Locusts.

And locusts to the people in those days meant one thing - death.

For us, infestations of insects can be met with an arsenal of pesticides most of the time. In the case of locusts, there is no pesticide powerful enough.
But, in times of draught, we have the luxury of looking to international markets, and most of the time, we do not worry about such things. This is best left up to buyers at General Mills and Pillsbury.
What we might experience in time of famine is a small jump in prices, for cereal, for bread, and for flour. But, with food comprising, at any time, a mere %10 of any American’s budget, this is a mere blip on the radar screen.
When we think of death, we do not think of hunger. We think of the plagues of cancer, or heart disease, or of traffic accidents.
None of us has ever met starvation, let alone the trials of agricultural setbacks.
Very often, we receive news from Malawi - that famine has set in, and that they need financial help. This parish rises to the challenge, but not because of the threat of hunger.

The threat is not hunger - it is death.

And we, as a culture, have ignored death to our own demise. We romanticized about it, we have quarantined it into hospices and nursing homes, we have attempted to laugh about it, we have put off preparing for it. We have looked upon the occupations of undertakers and grave-plot salesmen as rather morbid ways to make a living. Doctors have lived under the assumption that if someone dies, they have failed in their duties.

And yet, we are a culture of death.

We murder, we abort, we euthanize.

We make wars, and manufacture weapons, we find new ways to malign, denigrate, and wield deadly control over, the processes of human life. Forgetting the God who made us, we kill and slaughter, and are bewildered when killed by natural disaster and famine. We have the gall to ask “Where is God?”

And the nature of our national guilt, our sin of complacency is such that we bear daily its consequences, the grave consequences of our apathy towards death and life together.

With stomachs full, it is difficult to imagine hunger. But, we know all to well spiritual hunger.

Spiritual hunger comes as a result of the anemia of our own hearts, that they are darkened and heavy, that they are closed to the grace of God.

“Rend your hearts, and not your garments...” says the LORD.

In the face of death and hunger, the human mind is all too ready to be frustrated and bewildered, to tear up clothing, and to despair.

In the face of spiritual death and spiritual hunger, hellish alienation from God, the temptation is the same - to revel in frustration, to ask “Where is God?,” to become closed and impenetrable, hardened to grace.

“Rend your hearts, and not your garments...” says the LORD.

The heart is the source of all evil. It is the source of evil thoughts, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, and slander. We like to deceive ourselves into believing that evil is a thing external, but it not. Evil comes from the heart of man, more so than from any demon.

This is spiritual hunger.

To be without.

The void, we find, cannot be filled with money or sex or possessions, or building ourselves up in the sight of others. All these result in more and more despair, more and more spiritual death. They bring the soul into peril, they bring the soul happily to hell, to an eternity of hunger.

No, God alone can fill the void in the human heart.

But, the heart must be opened. It must, in fact, be torn open, painfully.

So, I bring to the fore on this Ash Wednesday the concept of Spiritual Heart Disease, both its symptoms and its cures.

Spiritual Heart Disease is first characterized by a lack of blood flow into the heart. There is a blockage in a vein, making the flow of blood to the heart difficult. The cures are many. Medications to thin the blood, operations to bypass blockages or expand the veins as to restore the flow.
In any case, blockages must be removed.

The first means to curing spiritual heart disease is the removal of blockages, namely sin. I cannot perform triple-bypass surgery on myself. I require a surgeon. And in this case, the surgeon is Jesus Christ operating through the apostolic ministry.
Jesus says to the apostles in the Gospel of John, Chapter 20: “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
A priest friend of mine is fond of saying that if you have a heart attack - you don’t have to call 911. You don’t have to see a doctor. But, if you love your life, and don’t want to lose it, you will call 911, you will seek medical help.
So, the first step is to recognize the blockage - the sin which results in death, and to confess it.

Father Crary and I are always at the ready to hear your confessions, whether at the appointed times, or any other time. Unlike the workers of Allied Waste, we never go on strike. We will never have something more important to do than disposing of your garbage.

Fasting is never recommended for those who are anemic. Fasting quickly speeds up the deficiency of iron in the blood. But from the perspective of Spiritual Heart Disease, the inverse is the case. Fasting allows the bloodflow to the heart to become rich, not in food, but in heavenly treasure. By denying the bodily appetites, we give more energy to the spiritual appetites, allowing them to feast upon the riches of Jesus Christ. So the cure - if you have never fasted before, consider taking on what the Church considers to be the bare minimum of fasting - abstinence from meat on Fridays and a eucharistic fast prior to mass.

If you have already done this and would like to do more - consider fasting on a specific day, perhaps Wednesdays. What you will find is that the room in your stomach really and truly makes room in your heart.

Another condition of the heart is Hypertension.

Hypertension results from a heart that is overworked. Essentially, the heart begins to chase after so many other things that the essential task - the pumping of oxygen rich blood to the body - is sidelined. Obesity, over-consumption of alcohol, increased salt intake, and over-stimulation all contribute to hypertension, which can result in stroke, heart-attack, and chronic renal failure.
Very often, our hearts get overworked, and become hardened, unable to pump correctly. There are simply so many things after which the heart can chase.
This is the case of a straying heart - the heart that loves what is not God.

The cure, interestingly enough, is to give to the poor.

The rich young ruler for instance. His problem was not sin, per se, it was that his affections were not rightly ordered. He loved his money more than God, he loved his possessions more than God. Jesus prescribes for this almsgiving - “one thing you lack, one thing that is making you incomplete - go sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.”

The cure is almsgiving.

There are, incidentally, two kinds of almsgivers.

The first maintains his standard of living, and gives to the poor out of an excess of cash. This is a good thing, but there is a better way.

The second decreases his standard of living and gives the decrease to the poor. This is far better. This is the sort of almsgiving that really and truly brings about softer hearts that are open to God’s love and grace.
What we find is that in giving to the poor, the human heart is opened in poverty to spirit to the Kingdom of Heaven.
Here at Saint Laurence, we offer a number of ways during Lent to give to the poor. The first is the mite box offering for Ugandan orphans. This is a worthwhile endeavor, one which Father Blewett spearheads each year, and for which Bishop Sekkeda and the people in Uganda, especially the children are extremely thankful. It doesn’t cost much, in fact, it’s probably less than you would think, and every little bit helps.

The second way we offer is a trip to the Union Gospel Mission on Good Friday. This is a means, not only of giving money to the poor, but of giving yourself to the poor, in fact the poorest of the poor.

Almsgiving, you will find, reorients the overworked and overburdened heart towards loving God.

The fourth and final disease of the heart is caused by a lack of exercise. The heart is a muscle, is must be conditioned just like any other. Cardiovascular diseases caused by such factors as high cholesterol, can often be treated with simply exercise and healthy eating habits.

So, really the cure to this spiritual heart disease is two-fold.

First - prayer - the exercising of the heart in loving God.
Second - healthy eating - the feeding of the intellect towards loving God, mainly with Holy Scripture.

As to the first, you should be praying daily. If you are not, set aside time to pray every day and alone. Let your mind and heart focus upon God alone. Tell the distractions like little children interrupting adult conversation, to go away and come back later. Meditate upon the sufferings of Christ and his miracles. If you have trouble, and it is natural, ask God to help you.

Prayer is hard work, and it takes determination.

Second, take up the reading of the Scriptures. If you’re a beginner, take up one of the Gospels and read it slowly, maybe five or six verses a day. If you desire more, read the Psalms, maybe two or three a day. Then truly study the texts. If you want more, then memorize verses.

We must be about the business of having our hearts steeped in the Scriptures, for in them we find not only the how of eternal life - we find the whom of eternal life - Jesus Christ, who is the author of all life and who, in death, is the only one with the power to save.

To Him be glory and honor, now and forevermore.
AMEN.

Introduction to Christianity

2007-02-01T10:39:00.000-08:00

Intro to Christianity

This course is structured around the central, total confession of the Christian faith as historically expressed in the Nicene Creed. As we proceed through the consideration of the Christian creedal tenets, we will explore foundational themes in Christian theology both in their historical context and in conversation between ancient and modern Christian sources.
The course readings are selected to reflect the process of Christian theology and historical interpretation of Scripture. Thus, each section on a tenet of Christian belief and experience requires reading that begins with relevant Scripture passages and proceeds to the summarization of the Scripture as historically interpreted by the Church, and currently contained in the excellent composite of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Students are invited to supplement their reading by comparing/contrasting positions in the Catholic Catechism with their own denomination’s Catechism or Confession. From time to time, the readings draw on excerpts from Patristic writers and key Christian theologians.
The course will be based on one weekly lecture, and one weekly discussion for the analysis of reading material. Each weekly discussion meeting will be led by the panel of assigned students for that week, who are responsible for coordinating the readings and facilitating discussion around the assigned issues for that week. For extra credit, a course blog will be available for ongoing discussion of relevant issues. It is critical that each student is prepared to participate actively in all facets of the learning of this critical material through timely and critical readings, and through regular and active class attendance.

Finally, students are reminded that least of all courses, this Introductory course is not approached in a vacuum. Most of us have been born into a context of cultural Christianity, such that the narratives and themes that we will cover are both familiar and personally associated with meaning, memories, and decisions. Some of us may be passionate devotees of Christianity; others of us may hate it. Probably the majority of us will find that we approach the more radical tenets of the Christian faith with distanced, disinterested contempt. It is therefore all the more crucial that, for purposes of our course, we engage one another and the material dialogically, honestly, frankly, personally, and with the utmost respect and charity. Each student is strongly invited to use this course to determine where he stands in relationship to the dominant faith of our modern culture.

Course Requirements

Weekly Comments. 30% Each student is required to submit weekly comments, questions, personal reflections, and identification of major issues by drawing on and citing the assigned materials in detail. These commentaries are to be no more than one page in length and are submitted by email each Monday.

Mid Term Examination. 20% The mid term examination will consist of two components:

A) The exam will provide an extensive list of terminology pertaining to key principles in Christian theology, of which each student will select and define twenty terms in a concise sentence that demonstrates conversational grasp of the vocabulary.

B) Each student will compose a thorough outline of major topics under each statement of the Creed covered to date.

Final Paper. 20% Each student will write a ten-page research paper outlining arguments for and against the Christian belief in the Resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.

Apologetics Week. 20% Students will be grouped into small groups/conversation partners who will meet either in person or on line for a two-part assignment: 1) to persuade the other of the credibility of a Christian claim and 2) to persuade the other of the attractiveness of the Christian faith. Each student will participate in each part of the assignment. Students’ performance will be evaluated on the clarity, thoroughness, and validity of their arguments, and on their conformity to the Christian tradition as conveyed in class. The Instructor or TA will be present to evaluate conversations. Students who enter the conversation online may turn in transcripts of the conversation for evaluation.

Oral Final Exam. 10%

Extra Credit (up to 15%)

A) Participation in ongoing course blog discussions.

B) Upon careful reflection, a student may opt, if he wishes, to participate in a Sunday service of a denomination that is not his own during the term. Successful completion of the extra credit assignment will involve completion of a 3-5 page report detailing the (charitable) observances of the service, and the student’s response to them, to be posted for commentary on the class blog. Students are encouraged to participate fully in the worship service and to contact the appropriate pastor, clergyperson, or secretary to notify them of your visit and its purpose.

Materials.

Required Texts.

St. Anselm, Cur Deus Homo

Raymond E. Brown, The Churches the Apostles Left Behind (Paulist Press, 1984)

Benny Hinn, Good Morning Holy Spirit (Nelson Books, 1997)

The Holy Bible (Revised Standard Version)

Catechism of the Catholic Church
Supplementary Catechism/Confession, at student’s discretion

St. Cyril of Alexandria, On the Unity of Christ (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2000)

Anne Rice, Christ the Lord (Knopf, 2005)

Bruce Shelley, Church History in Plain Language (Word Publishing, 1982)

Lee Strobel, The Case for Easter (Zondervan, 1998)

Lee Strobel, The Case for Christ (Zondervan, 1998)

Course Packet
Contents:

o Volf, God the Giver. Free of Charge, 2005.
o St. Victorinus, On the Creation of the World.
o Barth: Creation, Dogmatics III.1 (excerpts)
o Jon D. Levenson, Creation and Covenant. Creation and the Persistence of Evil. Part III, (Princeton University Press, 2003)
o Athanasius, De Incarnatione Verbi
o Anathemas of Chalcedon
o Kenneth Copeland, “On the Incarnation” (Audio Cassette Transcript)
o Karl Rahner, Dust You Are
o Gregory of Nyssa, On the Holy Trinity, and of the Godhead of the Holy Spirit, To Eustathius )
o John Calvin, Of Justification by Faith
o Martin Luther, Of Justification
o David Mills, The Snob’s Dogma: On Modernizing the Gospels (Touchstone Journal, 2002)
o Prayer of St. Michael the Archangel (Leo XIII, 1890)

Preliminary Reading Assignment:

Church History in Plain Language, Parts I-III (Jesus and the Apostles, The Age of Catholic Christianity, The Age of the Christian Roman Empire)

Course Agenda.

Week 1. We Believe

Required Reading:
o RCC, Part One: The Profession of Faith (17-23)
o Student’s Selection:
• Mere Christianity
• Or
• The Problem of Pain
• Or
• The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe

Student Presentations: Highlights of Lewis’ apologetic and explication of students’ personal experience of Christianity in terms of belief, encounter with “Christian” culture, ecclesial identification, and questions/problems to be presented to the Christian proposal throughout the course:

- As an exemplar of modern twentieth century convert turned popular apologist who promotes Christianity in the midst of a terrible World War, what does Lewis believe? Why does he believe what he believes?
- With what aspects of Lewis’ belief do you agree? What would you add to Lewis’ belief, if anything? With what do you disagree, if anything?
- What, if anything, would you define as a “Christian” culture? What has been your role in a Christian culture, if any?
- In your own words, what does it mean to be a Christian? Are you a Christian? If so, why? If not, why not?

Week 2. We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.

Required Reading.
o Genesis 1-3
o John 1
o Volf, God the Giver.
o St. Victorinus, On the Creation of the World.
o RCC, Chapter 1, Article 1, p. 61-101
o Barth: Creation, Dogmatics III.1 (excerpts)
o Jon D. Levenson, Creation and the Persistence of Evil. Part III, Creation and Covenant. (Princeton University Press, 2003)

Lecture:
- The One God: His characteristics and promises revealed to Israel
- The One God Almighty and the Cross; Christian interpretations of creation

Panel Discussion Issues:
- What does it mean to confess “one” God?
- What are the implications of calling God “Father?”
- What are the implications of God’s being “Almighty?”
- What moral implications that are implicit in the relationship between the Creator/creature?
- If Christians read the creation story as revised and consummated in the Incarnation, are they warranted in doing so? Why or why not?

Week 3. We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,  the only Son of God,  eternally begotten of the Father,  God from God, Light from Light,  true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father. Through him all things were made.

Required Reading:
• RCC, Articles 2 and 3 (p 120-159)
• The Gospel of Mark
• The Gospel of John
• Cyril, On the Unity of Christ
• Review Church History, Chapters 5, 7: (“The Rise of Orthodoxy,” “The Power of Bishops”)

Lecture I:
- Describe the orthodox statement on the Person of Christ, in contrast with major Christological heresies (Part I)

Panel Discussion Issues:
- Why was the early Church so intent on ironing out the details of who Jesus is? What does it really matter?
- Given only the Gospel texts, what sort of Christological statement on the nature of Christ would you arrive at?

Week 4. For us and for our salvation  he came down from heaven:  by the power of the Holy Spirit  he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary,  and was made man.

Required Reading.
o Matthew 1, Luke 1
o Anne Rice, Christ the Lord
o Athanasius, De Incarnatione Verbi
o Anathemas of Chalcedon
o Kenneth Copeland, “On the Incarnation” (Audio Cassette Transcript)
o Review Church History, Chapters 10-11 (“The Doctrine of the Trinity,” and “Christ in the Creeds”)

Lecture II:
- Re-visit orthodox statements on the Person of Christ, in particular contrast with Arius and Nestorius
- Highlight the emerging doctrine of the Theotokos
- Highlight Athanasius’ concept of the significance of the Incarnation as the ontological transformation of all creation.

Panel Discussion Issues:
- Why is it significant to state that Christ was born of the Virgin Mary rather than through?
- Is there a connection between the Theotokos doctrine and modern Mariology/Marian devotion?
- Compare/Contrast the anathemas of Chalcedon with the Copeland transcripts- how would Copeland have fared at Chalcedon?
- How is Athanasius’ concept of the efficacy of the Incarnation similar to or different than familiar notions of the efficacy of Calvary?

Week 5. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;  he suffered death and was buried.  

Required Reading
o The Epistle to the Hebrews
o RCC, Article 5 (p 161-179)
o Anselm, Cur Deus Homo
o Karl Rahner, Dust You Are

Optional: View “The Passion of the Christ” (2004)

Lecture:
- Explicate atonement “options”/various atonement theories, including ransom, penal subsititution, demonstration.
- Draw together prior themes: IE, moral responsibility to the Creator, doctrine re Fall and sin corroborated by the doctrine of Christ’s atoning “sacrifice,” the nature of the Incarnation understood in light of the Cross.

Panel Discussion Issues:
- What themes of atonement can be derived from Hebrews? Can we pinpoint one mechanism of atonement or are we left with several?
- Does Anselm do justice to the Calvary event?
- Why was Jesus Crucified?
- In the Epistolary writer’s estimation, how does Christ pertain to “our sake?”

Week 6. Midterm Exam

Week 7. On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures;  he ascended into heaven  and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.
Required Reading.
o Resurrection Accounts: Matthew 28-28; Mark 15-16; Luke 23-25; Acts 1
o RCC, Articles 6-7 (p. 189-195)
o The Kingdom: Matthew 5
o Christ in Glory: Revelation 4, 5, 11
o Strobel, The Case for Easter
Lecture:
- Trace the general structure of the Resurrection account, not common Synoptic themes
- Delineate a Christian rationale for belief in the Resurrection

Panel Discussion Issues
- Do the discrepancies in the Synoptic Resurrection accounts pose serious problems to the credibility of the accounts? Why or why not?
- Why was the Resurrection so significant to those who saw the Risen Christ or heard about it? Is it possible that we could have “Christianity” without it?
- Given Christ’s description of what His Kingdom is like, how should we read the descriptions of the “glory” of the risen Christ.

Week 8. We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life,  who proceeds from the Father and the Son.  With the Father and the Son he is worshiped and glorified.  He has spoken through the Prophets.  

Required Reading.
o Relevant Passages in John’s Gospel
o Acts 2-20.
o RCC Article 8 (p. 197-210)
o Gregory of Nyssa, On the Holy Trinity, and of the Godhead of the Holy Spirit, To Eustathius )
o Benny Hinn, Good Morning Holy Spirit (Nelson Books, 1997)
Lecture:
- Explicate the doctrine of the Trinity
- Elaborate on Scriptural references to the Holy Spirit
- Anticipate following lecture with discussion of the Holy Spirit’s essential role in and relation to the Church.

Panel Discussion Issues:
- What is the best way of “imagining” the Holy Trinity?
- What would be Gregory’s critique of Hinn’s ideas? From the readings in Acts, would Hinn seem out of place or right at home in the Jerusalem Church after Pentecost? What are the implications of the conclusion to the latter question?

Week 10. We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.  

Required Reading.
o Review Acts 2-20; The Epistle to the Ephesians; John 17
o RCC Article 9 (p. 215-250)
o Church History Parts 4-5 (“The Christian Middle Ages,” “The Age of Reformation”)
o Brown, The Church the Apostles Left Behind. Paulist Press, 1984.

Lecture:
- Highlight the nature of the early Church, its transformations up to the Reformation, and the rise of denominationalism (Constantinazation, Dispersion, Missions, Monasticism, Papal Schisms and Politics, Scholasticism and the Schools, Luther, Calvin, Counter Reformation and the Jesuit expansion)

Panel Discussion Issues:
- Among the shifts and changes in the Christian Church throughout history, it is possible to distill an “essential” or definitive epoch/pattern by which we might recognize the “authentic” Christian Church? Is this a good question to ask?
- According to the description of the Church given in Ephesians, how might the course of Church history be interpreted?
- Given Christ’s prayer for unity in John 17, what is a Christian response to denominationalism in the contemporary Church?

Week 12. We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.

Required Reading:
o Matthew 3, Mark 1, Luke 3
o RCC Article 10
o John Calvin, Of Justification by Faith
o Martin Luther, Of Justification
Augustine, On Baptism

Lecture:
- Delineate the key points of sacramental theology with regard to justification/sanctification and compare/contrast with Reformed perspectives.

Panel Discussion Issues:
- What are the exact points of divergence between Catholic/Protestant views of the sacraments? In what ways are these divergences reflective of the entire theological system?
- Given these divergences, is a reconciled theology of the sacraments possible (such as would be tenable for both Catholics and Protestants)?

Week 13. We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.

Required Reading:
- I Corinthians 15
- RCC, Articles 11-12
- The Fun Stuff: select materials on Limbo, Purgatory, Heaven, Hell, The Communion of Saints, Praying for the Dead, Angels and Demons.
- David Mills, The Snob’s Dogma: On Modernizing the Gospels (Touchstone Journal, 2002)
- Prayer of St. Michael the Archangel (Leo XIII, 1890)

Lecture:
- Highlight theological grounds for the litany of the saints in the Church’s liturgy; emphasize the Christian imagination of the life to come and its present implications against the theology of Bultmann.

Panel Discussion Issues
- What if there were nothing more to look forward to than being forgiven; would Christianity still be compelling/credible/believable? Why do we “need” Heaven?

Week 14. Apologetics Sessions, Evangelism Sessions, Preparation for oral exams.

Homily on the Feast of William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury

2007-01-10T15:12:00.000-08:00

This sermon began with the reading of Archbishop Laud's biography from Lesser Feasts and Fasts. It continued thus:

If there's one thing Archbishop Laud was not, it was a political opportunist. He was not in it for sheer political power, because such people are usually shrewd with power when they get it and don't make the kind of colossal political blunders that Laud did. Opportunists and change their stripes with the whims of the people -- Laud was beheaded, in large part, because he refused to embrace the fashionable ideas of his day and persisted -- curmudgeonly, tyrannically -- in pushing his very unpopular ideas. Nor was he a pragmatist. Pragmatists do what will work, even if it goes against their ideals -- Laud persisted in his ideals even when, by all accounts, they didn't work toward peace, reconciliation, or a resolution of any of the troubles he faced. If he was not therefore an opportunist or a practical man, what was he? What makes a person so devoted in pursuit of his cause that he would, for the sake of supporting that cause, risk starting a war that ended with his own execution and that of the King he supported?

Though there are several reasons why people may devote themselves to such causes, in Laud's case, I think he had the deepest of reasons -- he was a man in love. He had caught a glimpse of the Church of God, the Body of Christ, in all its glory and beauty, in all its catholic splendor; a church both reformed -- with a vibrant gospel to preach -- and catholic -- faithful to the doctrine and leadership handed down from Christ through the apostles to the bishops. Laud was enamored of this Church for the same reason that he was enamored of his King: Laud believed that both the monarchy and the Church were divine institutions, established by his God and imbued with holiness, righteousness, and the ability to express God's nature -- indeed, the very Gospel -- in a broken and disordered human world. Laud hated disorder, especially in the church, and He saw God as the source of order and right-ness and beauty. Everyone who falls in love knows that love always contains, in some measure, an appreciation of aesthetics, of beauty. Laud loved the beauty of the church and the beauty of the divine-right monarchy.

This beauty was, to him, God's own beauty. Loving church and supporting monarch were the equivalent, to him, of loving and obeying God. That's why he was willing to sacrifice everything valuable in the world to stand up for God's beautiful church and God's beautiful monarchy. He sacrificed a normal family life when he was ordained, for at that time most English clergy maintained celibacy. Laud sacrificed his career by supporting a doomed monarch. Laud sacrificed the churches over which he had charge, in one instance by pushing the Scottish prayer book on a church that didn't want it (but needed it, in Laud's eyes, to be more like the beatific vision of Christ's Body that Laud loved). For the sake of loyalty to God and King, Laud sacrificed his parishioners and countrymen by dragging them into a war that would claim many of their lives. For the sake of his love, Laud even contributed to the downfall of the King he served, since that downfall was necessary to maintain the ideals of divine-right monarchy and traditional catholicism. And finally, but to Laud least importantly, he gave his own life as a sign that the ideals of catholicism and divine right of kings were gospel truth.

The question before us today, as we celebrate the great love of a great but flawed man for God and His church, is "What do we love?" What has enamored us? Have we caught a glimpse of God's beauty in the world, and has it captured our hearts? If the beautiful vision Laud saw of Church and monarch was real, and really remains in existance today, have we seen it? Have we seen the glory of God's church, Christ's Body, prepared as bride for her husband? Have we grasped, as Laud did, the miracle of the Church, Emmanuel, God with us, the beautiful Word made flesh and dwelling among us? Are we in love? Would we self-givingly sacrifice everything, even the thing itself that we love, to further express and obtain God's beauty? Some say beauty is in the eye of the beholder -- God's beauty is always controversial, and pursuing that beautiful vision will always lead, as our Gospel reading today says, not to unity, but to estrangement; not to peace, but to a sword. Are we willing to go there? Do we love that strongly? Are we willing to walk in the way of the cross of our Savior, who himself, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising its shame, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father? From that seat He beckons us to fall in love with God, as Laud did. From that seat flows the beauty that should enflame our complacency, consume our pride in paltry human dignity, and leave our sin-hardened hearts broken and weeping, overcome, choked up, repentent -- enamored of the Beauty of all Beauties. May God enflame our hearts. May the vision of His glory consume our pride. May His face inspire repentence and smile in forgiveness. May we love God and His church with all our hearts. May we be able to say, with the Psalmist, "Whom have I in heaven but you? And having you, I desire nothing upon earth. Though my flesh and my heart should waste away, God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever. Truly, those who forsake you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful. But it is good for me to be near God; I have made the Lord GOD my refuge."AMEN.

- Fr. John Thorp

A Homily for Christmas Eve by Father Lee Nelson

2006-12-24T22:59:00.000-08:00

“No one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he has made him known.”

From the Gospel according to Saint John, I speak to you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

AMEN.

It seems that almost every year, around Thanksgiving, the assault on Christmas begins.

Some have referred to this as the “War on Christmas.” There is this great fear that retailers are going to ruin Christmas forever if they have their way. And – if it’s not the retailers, well then it’s the ACLU or some other group hell-bent on despoiling our sacred feast.

There’s also the great scandal of secular seasonal greetings. No longer can one say “Merry Christmas” in the public square without drawing at least some indignation from an increasingly secularized public. Then the “almighty they” decided it would be best to replace “Merry Christmas” with “Happy Holidays.” In a culture in which very little is sacred, very little is holy, this is yet another victory for Christ and His Church, for “Happy Holidays” means “happy holy days.” It is a recognition that there is something visibly special about these days.

But, the two skirmishes in the “War on Christmas” in the media this year were particularly notable.

The first involved a rabbi and an airport. The second involved a growing rash of abductions nationwide.

The first began when Rabbi Eleazar Bogomilsky of Seattle complained that there wasn’t a Menorah next to the Christmas trees at Sea-Tac Airport. Rather than granting his request, the airport simply took down all nine of their Christmas trees during the graveyard shift on a Saturday morning.

The Rabbi’s response was that this was simply not what he had asked for – and so upon hearing that he would drop a law suit against the airport, the airport put the trees back up, this time 16 of them. The concern was that the Jewish community would be seen as “the Grinch that stole Christmas.”

And now we hear from Olympia, Washington, in the statehouse, that a Menorah would be acceptable to the state, as well as Christmas trees, but a Nativity crèche would not be, as it would give a stronger impression of Government endorsement of religion. My guess is that they are concerned about visible images making rather blunt statements about invisible truths.

In the realm of nativity scenes, this year, there has been a rash of abductions. This brings us to the second news item.

All over the country, and even around the world, Jesus is being kidnapped and held hostage – his body snatched from nativity scene mangers, and being replaced with items such as beer cans and stuffed-monkeys. Sometimes, the mangers are simply left empty, but from Portland, Oregon, to San Jose California, to Salt Lake City, to Haltom City, to Alabama, to Upstate New York, Jesus is being stolen.

Some of these stories are brutal attacks against Jesus Christ and the Faith of the Church while some err on the side of comedy.

One news story had an account of a Jesus figurine being stolen a year ago, and returned early this month with a photo album of his exciting year of road-trips and camping trips, being buckled into a baby seat, eating ice-cream, and even making brownies. The family, of course, was glad to have their Jesus back.

But, why the thievery?

Maybe its just a big practical joke. But, maybe there is a more sinister motive. Perhaps the Washington statehouse is right. Perhaps the Christmas crèche is more than a set of figurines – perhaps it is a visible representation of great truth, even an exclusive truth – and therefore a scandal.

All this is to say that there is a great scandal when the invisible becomes visible.

Saint Boniface, an English missionary to the Germans in the 8th Century, is said to have chopped down an oak tree sacred to German pagans as they were preparing to make human sacrifice. As the tree split, inside was an evergreen sapling. Boniface said that it was the Tree of the Christ Child, pointing to heaven, and unlike the oak – always green.

He told these new converts to decorate and adorn the trees, bringing them into their homes to point them toward the heavens.

Later, it became understood that the red sap of the trees was symbolic of Christ’s blood.

If a Christmas tree were merely a tree, and not a symbol of religious truth, especially that of Jesus Christ, then there would be no scandal.

If the nativity scene were merely an artistic representation of some folks bundled up in some barn, and not representative of the birth of the Incarnate Son of God, the ACLU wouldn’t have anything to complain about, and there wouldn’t be the usual vandalisms and thefts.

Yes, it is a great scandal for the invisible to become visible.

Great enough of a scandal that a whole culture war is necessary, even if it is a mere “War on Christmas.”

When the invisible becomes visible, the prevailing notions of reality are challenged. No longer can one hide under the assumption that all that exists is matter alone – what can be touched, heard, perceived.

We Christians proclaim the invisible world when we proclaim that God is the creator of all things – things seen and things unseen. The Scriptures proclaim to us that the world of the invisible is eternal, and if it is eternal, surely it is greater than our visible world.

It is a world full of angels and creatures beyond explanation, but more so, it is a world of truth. For in this invisible world, there is no question, no shadow of doubt, it is a world which recognizes the truth of God to the point where not even demons fail to acknowledge it.

In the American mind, however, this world of invisibility is far, far away, in some remote heaven. It is so far away that it would take a great journey across space and time to make it here to the visible realm. Heaven is far. God is remote. Angels are “out there” or “up there.”

What we fail to realize is that the invisible is, in fact, not far away at all. It is merely hidden, shrouded or veiled, as it were, in mystery. It is no further from us than the thickness of a sheet of paper.

The great invisible world makes itself known to us in the visible by means of sacraments – outward and visible signs of what is inward and spiritual.

These are the breakthroughs, the tears in the curtain between two worlds, though which we see and perceive those eternal and invisible realities – even the invisible God Himself.

And we need these breakthroughs – they are the very substance of faith. The Letter to the Hebrews says that “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” The invisible world yearns to be seen, yearns to be revealed. God Himself desires the same. But, He is completely invisible and more than that – he is too glorious to be seen. Even the highest rank of angels – the seraphim, hide their faces from His presence. To see God would mean our certain death, especially considering our sinfulness.

But salvation consists in faith – it consists of a vision of God who is invisible, a vision which comes by the piercing of that veil between our two worlds, yes a sacrament.

The Church teaches, without equivocation, that Jesus himself is the sacrament par excellence, that there has never, in the history of the world been a better means to perceive invisible truth and reality than Him.

As Saint Paul writes to the Colossians: “He is the image (or icon) of the invisible God.”

Tonight, beloved, we gather to behold the most perfect revealing of “things not seen” that has ever been.

And Saint John writes to us this night – “No one has ever seen God;

The only Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he has made him known.”

God is invisible.

He is also unknowable.

Yet, he makes known through the created order His very nature, and through His very Son – grace and truth.

Saint John also says that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; We have beheld his glory.”

The scandal of the baby in the manger is that the Church makes the claim that He is grace and truth incarnate – that he is the Son of God who has come into the world, robed in human flesh.

On this night – the scandal is that all the rules are now broken – that the curtain between the visible and the invisible is now more thin than ever.

The angels hover – even in this very church, to look upon the Christ-child – they in their world of invisibility, we in our world in visibility.

On this holy night – we see God – not through a veil, not shrouded in smoke, not hidden in a burning bush, but in the face of a tiny baby boy. We hear Him as well, not in a voice from a cloud, or in the message of an angel, but in the cries of a child.

The glory of God falls upon mankind for the first time in ages and ages, not upon priests in a Temple, not upon prophets, but upon shepherds.

The rules are broken.

God in human flesh has been made known in Bethlehem.

[PAUSE]

“No one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he has made him known.”

And this night, we in the Church behold Him, adore Him, and sing to Him. This is a cause for celebration.

For the veil has been taken away, the curtain torn – God has made himself known to us, taking upon himself our nature.

Piercing the darkness comes a tiny baby boy.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.

… those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness on them has light shined.”

Light enough even to see God, to see His face.

There will be more.

This baby boy will grow up, he will live, he will teach, he will die.

But, for tonight – this is the true light, the light that enlightens every man, that has come into the world. To all who receive Him, who believed in His name, says Saint John, he gives the power to become children of God.

Children, born not of blood or of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.

Receiving the child Jesus makes us children of the Most High.

And this is little more than the salvation of our souls.

To see God.

Come let us adore Him.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. AMEN.

Sermon for the Second Sunday of Advent by Father Lee Nelson

2006-12-12T06:53:00.000-08:00

“For God has ordered that every high mountain and the
everlasting hills be made low and the valleys filled up, to make level ground, so that Israel may
walk safely in the glory of God."

From the Book of Baruch, I speak to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

I first noticed it on a drive to Wisconsin.

I had decided to take a new route. Usually, I drove up through Oklahoma, Oklahoma City to Tulsa, then across to Joplin, Missouri, through Rolla, into St. Louis, and then up through Illinois, through Springfield and then into Wisconsin. I guess that I had simply grown weary of the same old things – the little annoyances – toll-roads, and all the signs in Missouri for a place called “Meramec Caverns.”

So, this time, I drove up I-35, through Oklahoma, into Kansas, then Omaha, Nebraska, then Iowa, then into Wisconsin.

What I noticed was that a drive of 1,118 miles was a lot shorter than 1058 miles. Of course, this phenomenon defies mathematical explanation. There is no way a longer drive can be shorter than a shorter one.

But, the difference was this – MOUNTAINS.

For, on the drive through Missouri, and I had begun to call it “misery,” I had to drive through the Ozark Mountains. I had to cross the Mississippi at St. Louis instead of little old Dubuque.

The flatness of Kansas, and northern Oklahoma, and Nebraska, and Iowa, more than made up for the Ozark Mountains – the ups and downs.

Plus, I-35 has a Starbucks every 75 miles all the way to Minneapolis.

And so a difference of 60 miles is completely worth it. Plus, there’s a stop in Madison, Wisconsin - which is a lot more fun than Rockford, Illinois. And – best of all – the gas is cheaper!

In a car, mountains are no big deal – it leaves us with a difference of about $25 in gas and a more soothing and caffeine-filled drive. But think about it on foot, with mountains, and rocks, and deserts, with carts and oxen, and the need to find food at every stop.

If I had to navigate Missouri in a horse and cart, well, no thanks, give me Kansas, Nebraska, and Iowa.

It is no wonder then, that the Pioneers navigated Missouri by way of the Missouri river on barges from St. Louis to Kansas City rather than going through the mountains.

The real advantage to mountain-less travel is that you have a greater field of vision. In the mountains, you can see nothing but the mountain in front of you. But, in flat lands, you can see for mile upon mile. Those of you from West Texas can appreciate this.

“For God has ordered that every high mountain and the
everlasting hills be made low and the valleys filled up, to make level ground, so that Israel may
walk safely in the glory of God."

Our reading today from the Apocryphal book of Baruch comes from a time when the people of Jerusalem had been taken into exile in Babylon. The city of Jerusalem has been burned, and the Temple destroyed.

The priests are still present in Jerusalem, living on nothing, because the cultural elite – the breadwinners of Jewish society – have been taken into exile.

And Baruch is a man who had the foresight to take the vessels of the Temple with him to Babylon, so that, at the very least, they might not be taken by robbers.

We know archaeologically that this happened often. Many digs have found Temple vessels in caves high in the mountains of Palestine.

When in Babylon, they hear of the Temple’s destruction, the people are clearly in mourning for the Temple and for Jerusalem. Baruch takes the occasion to write four chapters of poetry, exhortation, and prayer before the people. Upon hearing what Baruch wrote, the people wept, fasted and prayed before the Lord.

Then, they took up a collection to send with Baruch to take with him, so that he might make a sacrifice on the altar of the Temple, which was left standing. He is to make a sin offering and a thank offering. He is to make a confession for the people in exile to the Lord in the Temple. He is also to bring with him the vessels which he had rescued from the Temple.

Our reading today comes from the very last words he spoke to the people in Babylon, and these words spark a movement to rebuild the city and the Temple. These acts are recorded in the Old Testament Books of Nehemiah and Ezra.

What is it that Baruch could have said to bring about mourning and weeping, fasting and prayer? What could he have said that would have brought about such repentance?

First, he acknowledges the sin of the people. Four times he says “we have sinned.” He exhibits before the people a spirit of brokenness and wretchedness. He acknowledges fully both his sin and the sin of the people.

He tells them:

“It was not for destruction
that you were sold to the nations,
but you were handed over to your enemies
because you angered God.
For you provoked him who made you,
by sacrificing to demons and not to God.
You forgot the everlasting God, who brought you up,
and you grieved Jerusalem, who reared you.”
[Baruch 4:6-8]

Therefore, when he asks God to show them His favor, he makes it very clear that it is for no reason of the worth of the people. He asks God to work and to hear their prayers for His own Name’s sake. He prays in Chapter 3: “Remember not the iniquities of our fathers, but in this crisis remember thy power and thy name.”

Third, Baruch weeps for the people himself. He weeps over their sin. He says to them:

“I have taken off the robe of peace
and put on the sackcloth of my supplication;
I will cry to the Everlasting all my days.

"Take courage, my children, cry to God,
and he will deliver you from the power and hand of the enemy.

For I have put my hope in the Everlasting to save you,
and joy has come to me from the Holy One,
because of the mercy which soon will come to you
from your everlasting Savior.

For I sent you out with sorrow and weeping,
but God will give you back to me with joy
and gladness for ever.”
Baruch 4:20-23

Here is a man who is not afraid to take up supplication for his people as a whole. He is not afraid to bear them on his back. But, he does not intend to pray for them from Babylon, no – he means to intercede for them from Jerusalem, 450 miles to the west.

So the mission of Baruch is twofold, he will intercede for those in exile in Babylon, and bring comfort and encouragement to those suffering in Jerusalem.

He writes:

“Look toward the east, O Jerusalem,
and see the joy that is coming to you from God!”

and again:

“Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height
and look toward the east,
and see your children gathered from west and east,
at the word of the Holy One,
rejoicing that God has remembered them.

For they went forth from you on foot,
led away by their enemies;
but God will bring them back to you,
carried in glory, as on a royal throne.

For God has ordered that every high mountain
and the everlasting hills be made low
and the valleys filled up, to make level ground,
so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God.”

Do you see what is happening?

Baruch is leaning upon the providence of God to provide in every way – including the removal of obstacles in his way to Jerusalem – both mountains and valleys. Because, in between Babylon and Jerusalem, there are several valleys, and one enormous mountain range. And he trusts that unlike the exile, which took place on foot, he will be carried, as if on a royal throne, back to Jerusalem.

His mission is clear – he is to make sacrifice for the sake of the people in the ruins of the Temple, and he is to make a confession for them. In addition, he is to bring aid to the priests, to comfort and encourage them.

So, why all the hype about this small-time, Apocryphal figure?

Because John the Baptist, in preaching repentance and baptism for the forgiveness of sins nearly directly quotes Baruch as he preaches in the region of the Jordan, about 20 miles from Jerusalem.

He says: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every
mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways
made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

Yet, both quotations can also be found in Isaiah, Chapter 40, contemporary with Baruch, when the people are told to “make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”

Why? Why this talk of a highway? Why the urgency? Why the appeal to make the path straight and flat?
The reason is simple – whenever Israel is gathered back to Jerusalem, to the promised land, it is for one reason – to worship. And it is a cause so urgent, a thing so vital, that Our Lord rushes to call us to it. He comes to this earth “seeking worshippers.”

Moses takes the people out of Egypt so that they can worship. Baruch is sent to Jerusalem to worship. Ezra and Nehemiah bring the people out of exile to worship.

And now, John the Baptist stands in the Jordan river calling the people to repentance, confession, and baptism, so that they may be ready to worship the Savior of the World when he comes.

Notice what Baruch, Isaiah, and John the Baptist all say – the removal of mountains and filling-in of valleys is the work of God and God alone. He does not do it for our sake, but for His sake. All that he requires of His people is repentance and worship.

As we look across the desert and mountains to the Holy City Jerusalem, our vision is obstructed by mountains and valleys. You might be able to think of the mountains or valleys which obstruct your view and your way.

How high those mountains can be! The sins that we cling to, the addictions, and the petty-ness. Our pride and self-dependence. Our God desires to topple them into the sea, to remove the barriers.

And the valleys! Our despairs and our longings. Our feelings of doubt and worthlessness. Our God desires to fill in the valleys, to put us on level ground.

The good news is that we cannot topple mountains and fill in valleys by our own strength – it is the work of God alone.

What is given to us is the work of repentance and worship, little things to say the least, but what big things God can do with them!

This Sunday, I exhort you to two things.

First, to Confession – the sacrament of repentance and reconciliation. The enemy positively loathes confession. Like Baruch, take up the work of making your confession before Almighty God, trusting Him to take away your sins.

Father Crary and I are hearing confessions during this season of Advent starting at 9:40a.m. on Saturdays. This is the point where you make your choice – navigate the mountains by your own strength, putting your soul and life in peril, or offer the mountains to God and walk on flat land.

Second, to worship.

Step into the chapel if you have a few minutes during the week and spend time with Our Lord and Savior.

Also – make the time to attend a weekday Mass. It is an occasion of sure and certain grace which will aid you in your journey to meet Our Lord, to prepare for His coming.

“I am the bread of Life,” says the Lord “he who comes to me shall not hunger.”

These two sacraments, the sacrament of reconciliation and the Holy Eucharist, issue forth the merits of Jesus Christ for righteousness and mercy.

“Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

Come let us adore Him.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son , and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

Sermon for Christ the King by Father Lee Nelson...

2006-12-08T16:34:00.000-08:00

“His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.”

These words from the Book of the Prophet Daniel, I speak to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

“It’s good to be king, if just for a while
To be there in velvet, yeah, to give 'em a smile
It's good to get high, and never come down
It's good to be king of your own little town

Yeah, the world would swing if I were king
Can I help it if I still dream time to time

It's good to be king and have your own way
Get a feeling of peace at the end of the day.“

Not that I cite the rock star Tom Petty as an authority, but he does point out the dreams of many of us.

Men often tend to think about what life would be like if they could do anything, think anything, say anything.

“If I were president of the company…”

We often talk about our homes as our castles, and our wives as our queens. If only we were a bit more chivalrous.

I must admit to having said on a number of occasions – if I were the bishop. A friend of mine likes to say it another way “when I’m the bishop.”

Women might think about it a different way, perhaps about being princess for a day, girls looking forward to their wedding day, and women looking back on that glorious day, before the kids and the mortgage and all the rest.

We all want to believe exactly what Tom Petty tells us:

“It’s good to be king and have you own way – Get a feeling of peace at the end of the day.”

But, none of us are kings, none of us are queens. In fact, it is doubtful that very many of us have lived under their rule. And, my guess is that if you asked them, they would say they almost never, ever, get their own way, let alone getting a feeling of peace at the end of the day.

The problem is that being a king has very little to do with total power and authority, it has very little to do with having one’s own way.

Most Kings, in fact, never really wanted to be king anyway – they’re kings – not because they wanted to be, but because they are. Throughout history, kings have become kings, not because of ambition, but because they were born into it, or because the people demanded that they be put on the throne.

So, we can say so far that a king is a king by right, usually of birth.

But, what is a king?

The English word for king simply means what we’ve said before – one who is descended from noble birth.

The Latin word, however – “REX”, comes from the word regere, which means “to keep straight, to guide, to lead, and to rule.”

It is not enough to merely be king, a king should be kingly, and in this, it is the king’s authority and prerogative to keep the kingdom and its subjects on the straight and narrow, to guide them, to lead them and to rule over them.

Kings who are not kingly wind up being tyrants and oppressors of the people.

Good kings know how to truly lead. Very rarely will you find a good king in history who does not lead his armies into battle himself. He leads, he does not push. He leads by example – his example of courage, of wisdom, of moderation, and of justice.

The corrupt king forces his armies where he will not go himself, the good King leads his people to where he already is.

The corrupt king is an oppressor – he crushes the people for his own gain – he does not care for them and their well-being – he does not love the.

The good King rules over his people, not as an oppressor, but as a benefactor – one who wills and works for their good. He denies himself.

So, as catchy as Tom Petty’s lyrics are – the king does not have his own way and peace at the same time. It is rather through self-denial that the king can have peace in his kingdom.

“To him was given dominion and glory and kingship,
that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.”

The words of the prophet Daniel describe a vision he has of the end of days. In this vision, he sees the Court of Heaven, the Ancient One seated on his throne. The beast is killed, and all evil is put to an end. Then, Daniel sees “one like a human being, coming with the clouds of heaven.” This man is presented to the Ancient One, and to him is given everlasting kingship and dominion.

Who is this man?

Daniel did not know of the Messiah, he merely expected Him.

He is rather the one who has the Divine and human birthright – one who is both Son of David, and Son of God. He is the one who in one person is both perfect God and perfect man.

Thus, it is no coincidence that the Gospel writers Luke and Matthew take such great pains to establish the genealogy of Jesus Christ, whom they believe is the King of David’s line, as well as being whom they claim he is for the rest of their Gospels, the Son of God. Matthew proves that Jesus of Nazareth is, by divine right, the King of all Israel.

But, that is the easy thing to prove, isn’t it?

As we have already said, genealogy – while it may make a man a king – it does not make him a good king, let alone kingly.

What Matthew spends the rest of the Gospel doing is showing that Jesus Christ is that very thing. This is done by Jesus proclaiming, not himself as king, but the “kingdom of heaven.”

“Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

“The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, a treasure hidden in a field, a pearl of great price.”

In this kingdom, the first are last, and the last first. It belongs to little children.

The kingdom is described through parable after parable, in which Jesus describes how that kingdom will be, and how it is.

In so doing, he describes his own kingship.

On this Feast of Christ the King, let us focus on how Christ is the King.

We have said that the King is to keep the kingdom on the straight and narrow. This is the part of kingship which deals with order, discipline, and justice.

The King establishes the law. And Jesus Christ, the divine law giver, establishes the divine law, writing it on the hearts of men. The important commandments you know: “you shall love the Lord your God with all your heard , and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment and the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

He who acknowledges Christ as King pays homage to him by keeping His law, he is obedient. No good citizen observes only the laws that are convenient, or the ones he likes, he keeps all of them. This means that the subject of Christ the King cannot claim loyalty as a subject by being obedient in one regard and disobedient in another.

He cannot love God while committing adultery. He cannot love his neighbor while not observing the Sabbath.

Christ the King establishes order through His giving of the law, we see this in the Sermon on the Mount – new commandment after new commandment, Jesus expounding the commandments with authority to do so.

Christ the King also disciplines. The word “discipline” comes from the Latin for “student” – discipulus. The word essentially means keeping the students the students and the teacher the teacher. Have you ever been humbled or taught a lesson? You have been disciplined. Take heart, the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews says that this means that God loves you! Discipline, from the perspective of Christ the King, is for your good, to keep you in his care.

The next part of keeping the Kingdom on the straight and narrow is the establishment of justice. Isaiah writes that the Messiah “will not fail or be discouraged until he has established justice in the earth.” The biblical conception of justice has little to do with righting wrongs or legal justice. It has everything to do with charity. What Isaiah means is that the Messiah will care for the poor, for the oppressed, for the widow, and for the orphan. For those of us who are rich, that should leave us at least in some wise, fearful of the Kingdom of Christ. Christ the King does not show favor to the rich – he shows no partiality – but He will care for the least, the lost, and the lowly. This is what good kings do!

Next, a king is a leader.

We have said that leadership is not all involved in pushing – making someone go where you are not. It is rather consumed with bringing others to be where you are. Was not this the patter of Jesus in his earthly life? Did he not give invitation to his disciples to walk with him, to be with him, to live in his way?

Jesus Christ is a King who calls. He does not call anyone to be where he is not. He says, “when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am you may be also.” If you struggle with knowing where you are called to be, know this, Christ the King is a leader – He calls his people to be where He is.

But, it is more than that. Jesus Christ takes upon himself full humanity – He is tempted, he has hunger, he struggles, he prays, he suffers, he dies, is resurrected, and ascends to the right hand of the Father. In life and in death, we can know that He has been where we are, and He has triumphed!

He calls us to take on His character, given to us in grace, and to triumph with Him.

The most important part of kingship is this, the king does not say: “It’s good to be king, and have your own way, get a feeling of peace at the end of the day.”

No, the king gives of himself.

He empties himself.

He does not have his own way. On the night before he dies, he says to the Father, “not my will, but thine.” And it is the will of the Father that He be handed over to the hands of sinners. He does not have his way.

They crown him, not with gold, but with a twisted ring of thorns. He does not have his way.

They wrap him in a purple robe, and he doesn’t say with Tom Petty, “It’s good to be king, if just for a while
To be there in velvet, yeah, to give 'em a smile” The robe clings to his bloodied back, absorbs His precious blood.

His throne is not a throne of dignity, it is a throne of shame. His throne is the cross, and above it is written “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews” or in Latin, Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum, from which we get the initials I-N-R-I.

There He dies, on his throne of shame, crowned with thorns, emptying himself for the good of the people.

Yet, “his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.”

He will reign into eternity, Christ the King.

Come, let us adore him.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

On Christian Marriage and Divorce

2006-10-23T18:44:00.000-07:00

Fr. Will Brown
October 2006

In today’s readings we have God’s teaching on the relationship between men and women: what it means for men and women to be in relationship with one another. Let’s begin at the beginning. In the lesson from Genesis, we read God’s compassionate utterance with respect to mankind: it is not good for him to be alone. Its not good for him to live by himself, in isolation. And notice that this is the first “not good” to come out of God’s mouth. God beheld everything else that he had made up to this point, and “behold it was good.” But he sees that man is alone, and for the first time he says “not good.” “It is not good for man to be alone.” He needs a companion.

So God decides to fix human loneliness. And how does he do it? He looks around at all the creatures he has already made, but he does not find among them a companion fit for man. And, by the way, this is the real reason the Church has always taught that homosexual practice is wrong. Not because of the ritual impurity passages in Leviticus about it being “an abomination” and what not – but rather because single-sex companionship as an alternative to marriage falls under this category of human isolation that God calls “not good.” So God differentiates between the genders, and institutes a similitude and complimentarity between them such that they are flesh of a single flesh, and bone of a single bone – but in their similitude, in the human nature which men and women share, there is complimentary difference. Man and woman are, according to Genesis, complementary expressions of a single human nature bearing the image and likeness of God. And therefore, it says, a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh. In short, God instituted this complementary differentiation between the sexes to fix a situation that was, in his words, “not good” – the situation of human isolation and loneliness.

Jesus comments on this very passage in today’s lesson from Mark. The tricksy Pharisees, “in order to test” Jesus, ask him whether divorce is okay. Lets skip to the end: God Incarnate says its not okay. Jesus says divorce is not okay, and he cites today’s reading from Genesis to explain why: because God himself has instituted marriage between one man and one woman as a component of the goodness of his creation, and in order to remedy the not-goodness of the alternatives, the not-goodness of human isolation. And by the way: the Church has always recognized the only alternative to marriage, the celibate estate, as a special case, a special calling, sanctified by being for the purpose of being more ardently devoted to the Lord’s business (cf. 1 Cor. 7.32-34).

But guess what? Things are not as they seem. They never are, right? Put another way: there’s more to this story than meets the eye. Consider again the problem and its remedy: It is not good for man to be alone…. Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh. The real problem of human isolation is not that its another Saturday night and I ain’t got nobody. The real problem is that humanity has been isolated from God – because our human nature has been broken by sin and corruption. Because we are inundated every day with temptation and toil and suffering, all of which seeks further to isolate us from one another… and further to isolate us from God. And that’s real isolation… that’s real loneliness. And if we let that stuff get the better of us, if we let the temptation and the toil and the suffering master us, that’s called Hell.

[And that’s why Christian hermits, who live in caves and see other humans once a year or something… that’s why they’re not necessarily really lonely: if they’ve embraced a special calling to celibacy and solitude in order to devote themselves to intimacy with God, then they’re not really lonely. And conversely, that’s why you can find some of the loneliest people in the world in big cities, surrounded every day by the chatter and bustle of lots of other people.]

Hell is the situation of perfect, unmitigated loneliness. It is not good that man should be alone. That’s the problem. Here’s the remedy: Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife. Things are not as they seem. A man leaves his Father. There was once a Son who left his Father’s house… and then he came down from Heaven, and by the Holy Spirit became incarnate from the Virgin Mary and was made man, and for our sake was crucified. Why did he do it? Because God was not willing that humankind should continue to live in its mortal isolation. It is not good that man should be alone. God was not willing that we should be so subjected to the temptation and the toil and the suffering of our broken human nature that we should die in our isolation from him. So God joined his own nature, his own divinity, to our broken human nature in the one flesh of Jesus Christ, perfect God and perfect man, like us in every respect (Heb. 2.17). Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh.

That’s why Christian marriage is for life. Because God joins each of us to himself in the one flesh of his Son, and he said that this union of his divinity with our humanity would be until we should be parted by death, just like in the marriage vows. And then Christ did die, but we were not parted from him: the union of humanity and divinity survived in his resurrection… because God’s love is stronger than death. God took on our broken human nature so that he could break its brokenness. He took on every aspect of our humanity, and he perfected it. He took on temptation, and did not sin. He took on toil, and he did not grow weary. He took on suffering, until he cried out on the cross this marriage is consummated! He took on death, until he rose from the grave. And that life and that death were the perfection (Heb. 2.10) of the union of God and man in the one flesh of Jesus Christ. And there’s no divorce in that union. Its for life, for eternal life, because the one person in whom the union of divinity and humanity is consummated and perfect now sits forever at the right hand of the Father. The one person, Jesus Christ, is forever perfect divinity and perfected humanity. And there’s no turning back.

Take every opportunity to give yourself to the Bridegroom of your soul. Most problems in human marriage boil down to failures of trust – to our inability to give ourselves freely and perfectly to one another. That’s hard – from what I’ve seen, it looks like one of the hardest things in life. That’s the hardness of heart on account of which Jesus says that Moses allowed for divorce. And sometimes it almost can’t be helped. God knows sometimes people’s ability to give themselves freely and completely to their spouses is so corroded by fallen circumstances that its impossible to judge culpability for a marriage’s failure. And that’s why we’re told never to judge others. Only God can judge the causal connections between our choices and the circumstances that formed us. Sometimes people come from alcoholic backgrounds, or sometimes people have been formed by sexual abuse. Overcoming that kind of baggage and getting to a point where you can trust someone totally, where you can freely and completely give yourself to another person can seem impossible. And the Church knows that. She makes merciful allowances.

And our ability to give ourselves freely and completely to Christ, the Bridegroom of our souls, requires inhuman trust. The Church calls that kind of trust faith. It too is corroded by circumstances and can seem impossibly hard. But that’s what the Church is for. If any of you are perfect, you don’t belong here. In fact, if you were perfect, you’d be dead. The world hates perfect people. It nails ‘em up. Rather, the Church is a hospital for sinners – not a fortress for the self-righteous. The Church is sweet counsel for the reticence of our souls. The sacramental life is premarital counseling that prepares us to be joined to Christ in the hour of death, that we may be joined to him in the eternity of his risen life. And he never gives up on us. He was willing for his nuptial bed to be a cross so that our honeymoon might be eternal life.

It is not good for man to be alone. Therefore a Son left his father in heaven (and his mother on earth) in order to cleave to his Bride. And they become one flesh. And Christ woos us day by day from the altar: take; eat; this is my body – drink this all of you; this is my blood.

Happy indeed are those called to the marriage supper of the Lamb. Amen.

Mark 10: The Rich Young Ruler (wealth, poor, poverty, kingdom, following Christ, simplicity)

2006-10-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

Sermon for the 23rd Sunday in Pentecost
Mark 10:17-27
Fr. Lee Nelson

The story goes that a little boy had gotten his hand stuck in his mother’s prized Ming-dynasty vase. It had been a gift to her grandmother by her grandmother, and so on and so forth through the generations. It was by all accounts priceless.

No flowers had ever been displayed in it – not to anyone’s recollection anyway.

It had never, ever been anything more than a prized family heirloom, a priceless treasure, and therefore, the children were never, ever allowed to touch it.

After all, the very presence of the vase in the house had raised the homeowner’s insurance burden fourfold.

Of course, his mother was away for the weekend, and had left charge of the house to his father, who was out mowing the lawn when the little boy came running out into the front yard, dragging the vase behind him.

The father immediately tried just about everything he could think of – pulling, jerking, hot water, olive oil, motor oil and Goo-gone, but nothing seemed to work.

Loading all the kids into the family minivan, they headed to the emergency room, where after waiting the obligatory four hours, they finally saw a doctor.

The doctor peered down at the catastrophe before him, the vase wrapped in bubble wrap to protect it, and of course, the boy looking comical with his new and unnatural appendage.

“Well, it seems to me that we only have two choices,” said the doctor, after assessing the situation.

“Choice number one: we break the vase with this hammer.”

The little boy shuddered.

The father nearly passed out.

“Choice number two: we amputate the hand.”

The little boy shuddered.

The father knew exactly what must be done.

“Well, the choice is clear, hand me the hammer.”

“Wait!,” screamed the little boy, imagining the look on his mother’s face when she returned home.

“Would it help if I let go of this quarter?”

[PAUSE] [Fr. Nelson holds up a quarter.]

In this hand, I hold a quarter.

In this hand, the Kingdom of God.

In this hand, I hold wealth, and status, and upward mobility, and the keys to my car, and my house, and everything else that isn’t the Kingdom of God.

In this hand, I hold the pearl of great price, discipleship to the Lord Jesus Christ, I hold following Him wherever He may go.

In this hand – I hang onto what is familiar, what is safe, what is pleasing to me, what brings me happiness.

And in this hand – I hang onto salvation, that which is wild, and untamed, which will cost me my life, and bring me great joy.

In this hand – I hang onto a Gospel that is easily digested, that only transforms what I let it, a Gospel that is neat and tidy and does not require much of me.

And in this hand – I cling to a Gospel that is messy and bloody, that transforms everything about who I am, a Gospel that is costly and untamed and requires my whole life.

I use these hands to illustrate the very dilemma that frustrates the rich man in the Gospel of Mark.

With his right hand, he grips tightly his money, wealth, notoriety, and image as a benefactor. He enjoys his place in society, he gives to the Temple, he gives to the synagogue.

In his left hand, he desires eternal life, he keeps the commandments – about this, by the way, Jesus does not challenge him, he does not defraud anyone, he honors his father and mother, he observes the Sabbath, he does not commit adultery.

He is, by all accounts a moral man. But is that enough?

Who knows what he had hoped to hear when he asked: “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Probably, he wanted to know what the requirements are, and in this, he might as well have asked “Teacher, what is the bare minimum that I must do to inherit eternal life?”

He is asking: “What is the checklist?”

Rather than telling him what he has, Jesus tells him what he lacks, saying “one thing you lack.” The Gospel of Luke, changes this line to “if you would be perfect.” But, the point is the same – this man is incomplete. In order that he may lack no more, he is told to sell everything he has and give to the poor. That’s not usually something you hear. You don’t hear things like: because you lack something, get rid of everything.

But, you see it is not possessions that he lacks – what he lacks is discipleship, he lacks the obedience and submission of being a “student” of Jesus.

What he wants is to be able to hold the quarter in his right hand – his possessions, his status, his wealth, while at the same time grasping eternal life.

He would like to have both.

He would like to have Jesus and 30 pieces of silver.

He would like to have Jesus and his possessions.

You see, the way of a disciple is a way of simplicity and obedience, the disciple following Jesus wherever He goes. The disciple must be unencumbered by wealth and possessions. He must forsake everything – even his own family to follow completely and perfectly. The disciple cannot hang on to the quarter with one hand and Jesus with the other. He must cling to the Savior with both hands.

The rich man wants to follow Jesus – but only periodically, and only insomuch as being a disciple does not interfere with the rest of his life.

Yet, at some point following Jesus requires letting go of the hand with the quarter – the hand with the possessions and the wealth, and the safety – and clinging to the Lordship and Mastership of Jesus – and clinging to Him only – with both hands.

We have committed the great sin in the Church of being somewhat moderate on this point. We have said that if you are interested in being a disciple of Jesus, you are more than welcome to keep your status in the community, your house, your cars, your investments, your possessions. We have done this with the rationale that being a Christian is either a primarily moral enterprise or a primarily spiritual enterprise, and we have exempted the monetary and civic character of the individual from the scrutiny of the Gospel.

We have essentially said that you can have one hand in the Kingdom of God and another in the Kingdom of this World, and be more or less living out Christian vocation.

The problem with this line of thinking is that the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of this World – the left hand and the right – are not compatible. – they are fundamentally opposed. And, what winds up happening to the Christian is that he winds up being stretched out.

He pursues the intimate knowledge of God and of His Son, while at the same time being in pursuit of wealth and status. He longs for eternal things, for treasure in heaven, while at the same time attempting to satisfy himself with material gain.

The great problem comes when the Kingdom of this World fails to satisfy – when the right hand is dropped – and the Christian must lean on the left hand, only to find that what he is left with is a rather dull and unchallenging Jesus who doesn’t say things like “go, sell what you own.” He’s is a domesticated Jesus – a Jesus who is there for you when you’re down and who says nice things about you.

He is not Lord. He is not Savior. He is mass-market cute.

And the only hope for Jesus and His Church is that some of you get that and sell everything that you have, give the money to the poor, and follow Him and Him only.

There. I’ve said it. I know you were waiting for it, but now I’ve gone and said it.

That’s right – for some of you, following Jesus in completeness will mean you can’t live in your house anymore. You can’t drive the car you drive. You can’t wear the clothes you do.

Note that I say some.

What we find in the Scriptures are some very rich people who don’t have to sell everything in order to be complete disciples.

We can look to Zachaeus. We can look to Joseph of Arimathea, to Lydia, and then to the great saints – Elizabeth of Hungary, Margaret of Scotland, and King Louis of France – all of them unimaginably wealthy, yet generous, and kind, and hospitable. They are those camels who have managed to get through the eye of the needle.

But what that does not mean is that you can be attached to your possessions and Jesus at the same time. You can’t be. Idolatry is idolatry. But, what it does mean is that wealth comes from the Lord Himself and it is to be held in His stewardship. That means that that big house is not yours, it’s His, and so you had better start using it like it’s His.

It means that car is not yours, it’s His, and you had better start driving it like it’s His.

It means that your bank account must be governed by the Lord Jesus rather than by the principles and ideals of the Kingdom of this World.

But, for some of you, I daresay many of you, your possessions and wealth may be the very things which keep you from discipleship, from grabbing hold of Our Lord with both hands.

You might say to me “Father, my possessions and wealth are not my gods. I’m fully capable of keeping things in perspective.”

To you I ask one simple question: “If the Lord appeared to you in a dream, and asked you to sell your house and everything in

“Would you do it?”

Or, would you, like that little boy – hang on to the quarter, the baubles and the trinkets, and walk away grieving, dragging behind you a very expensive vase? [pause]

We must never forget, my beloved brothers and sisters, that we were bought with a price!

That the cost of our salvation is high! And that Our Lord paid it! And He extends both hands to you! And you withhold one?

May we not be so cold to Him!

Our Lord gives us His very self, that we might live with Him, and yet, all too often, it is our materialism which stands in the way, which stretches us out between two hands.

And so, it becomes clear that our attitude towards material things must change in order for our attitude towards Jesus to change, so that we might love Him and trust Him more.

Letting go of our attachments in this world frees us to be disciples.

Let me suggest some more practical ways of giving over our possessions to the Lordship of Christ?

I offer you an acronym: SIMPLE - S. I. M. P. L. E.

The S stands for Smaller. Does your house have rooms that are unnecessary or exist merely for show? Is your car more about status than about transportation? It might be time to downsize. Consider selling what is unnecessarily big, and giving the difference to the Church or another worthy charity.

The I stands for a big word – Inconspicuous. This means getting rid of things which are meant to draw attention to us. Perhaps you have some clothes which have as their most important attribute the drawing of attention.

The M stands for Minimal. This means decreasing the number of a possession, perhaps all the way down to one. To one TV, one set of golf clubs, one dvd player, one computer, one set of dishes, etc. Or it can mean decreasing the number to what is actually necessary. Perhaps you only need 7 shirts instead of 25. Perhaps you only need three pairs of shoes. Stuff all the extra into garbage bags and take it to GRACE.

The P stands for “Paid-For.” This means buying things that you can pay for, not things you can afford. There is a subtle yet important difference between the two summed up by over 1.6 trillion dollars charged on consumer credit cards by Americans every year. Consumer debt is little more than a subtle form of slavery and as Our Lord says “No one can serve two masters, he will either love the one and hate the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.”

The L stands for “Lose it!” A major part of simplicity is getting rid of things entirely. It is very healthy to go through a bit of purging from time to time. Are there things you haven’t used in a while? Are there things that have become idols for you? Are there things that eat away at your time? All of these are candidates for the “Lose it” method.

The E stands for “Employ it.” This means using what you have. Once you’ve gotten rid of all the excess, it is important to use the things you do have, but again, not according to the principles of this world – but as members of the Kingdom of God, using what we have under His rule.

So, in review, possessions should be small, inconspicuous, minimal, and paid-for. Possessions no longer useful, or possessions that are occasions for sin should be Lost and possessions retained should be Employed.

Friends, if you desire freedom, freedom to follow Jesus, simplicity is the way.

One of the great saints of the Church, Teresa of Avila, had this to say:

“He who has God has all things: When we have God, Who is infinite, we will want less or even nothing extra.

God alone suffices: God supplies everything we need, but not necessarily everything we want. Learn spiritual simplicity by adoring Him and His Blessed Simplicity.”

This is where we get to heart of matters.

God wants us to love Him from the depths of our souls. He wants us to positively adore Him. When we are busied by what we possessed – it makes us impossible to love, adore, and be possessed by Him.

We are like the boy stuck in the jar for the sake of a quarter.

We need only let go to be free.

If you would be perfect: “Learn spiritual simplicity by adoring him and His Blessed Simplicity.”

Amen.

Syllabus: Introduction to Christology in One Lesson

2006-10-02T10:05:00.000-07:00

Christology of Chalcedon

Jing Cheng
Proposed, Southern Methodist University
Fall 2006

Motivation of the Course

The imaginative audiences are young adults who are curious of Christian culture but find it weird to believe in a human being as the Son of God. This course attempts to help them understand the formation of a Christian doctrine and the concerns involved during this process.

Reading Assignments

1. Richard A. Norris, The Christological Controversy (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980), pp. 1-31.
2. Cyril of Alexandria, “Second Letter to Nestorius,” in The Christological Controversy, pp. 131-135.
3. Cyril, “Third Letter to Nestorius,” in Christology of the Later Fathers ed. Edward R. Hardy (Louisville, London: John Knox Press), pp. 349-354.
4. Cyril, “Letter to John of Antioch,” in The Christological Controversy, pp. 140-145.
5. Leo I, “Letter to Flavian of Constantinople,” in The Christological Controversy, pp. 145-155.
6. “The Chalcedon Decree,” in Christology of the Later Fathers, pp. 371-374.

Lecture Outline

1. The doctrinal achievements of the Council of Nicaea I and Constantinople I

Council of Nicaea I: the first Ecumenical Council, summoned by Emperor Constantinople in 325. Athanasius was the leading champion of orthodoxy. The council condemned Arianism, which denied the full divinity of Jesus Christ and accepted “Homoousios”—the Father and the Son are of one substance—as orthodox.

Council of Constantinople I: convened by Emperor Theodosius I in 381. The council ratified the work of the Council of Nicaea with regard to the doctrine of Christ, and confirmed the humanity of Christ by condemning Apollarianism, which denied the presence of a human mind or soul in Christ.

(Now that the real divinity and real humanity of Jesus Christ was affirmed, what is the relation of the two in the God-man?)

2. Nestorianism: The christology of Theodore of Mopsuestia and Nestorius

Theodore of Mopsuestia: The Word of God dwells in the man Jesus of
Nazareth by God’s good pleasure. Therefore, there are two subjects in Christ: the Logos united himself with the man Jesus ever since his conception started and the union of the two grew with Jesus’ human life going on and is fully expressed in the resurrection of the crucified Jesus.

Nestorius: Virgin Mary should not be called “Theotokos”—mother of God; she was only the mother of the humanity of Christ and could only be called “Theodochos”—recipient of God. The Logos is not the ultimate subject of the human attributes of Jesus, so He was not born of Mary, did not suffer, did not die, nor was raised. Jesus was only a human being, in whom the Logos dwelt, though intimately and completely.

3. Cyril’s response to Nestorius and the Council of Ephesus (431)

Cyril of Alexandria: The second person of God Himself took flesh and became a human
being, but he did not thus undergo a change and ceased to be God; remaining God he took on
the conditions of human life. “[A]lthough He existed and was born from the Father before
the ages, he was also born of a woman in his flesh.” And “the Logos was born of a woman
after he had … united human reality hypostatically to himself.” (Norris, 133) There was
only one subject in Jesus. The one hypostasis is the Logos himself, making a full human
existence his own. Though as God He is impassible, in the human body He assumed He
suffered for our sake; therefore the resurrection is also His according to his human nature.

Council of Ephesus: took place in 431. Both sides went but met separately and mutually excommunicated each other. The imperial authorities recognized the meeting Cyril presided over and Nestorius’s doctrine was condemned and he himself was excommunicated. The council reaffirmed the Creed of Nicaea and gave formal approval to “Theotokos.”

4. Eutyches’ claim
After the union, Christ had only one nature.

5. Leo I and the Council of Chalcedon (451)

Leo I (“the Great”): condemned Eutyches. Christ is one “person” having two natures,
each of which was the principle of a distinct mode of activity. The inner, ontological identity of Christ is the Logos himself.

Council of Chalcedon: convoked by Emperor Marcian. Condemned Eutyches; confirmed the Nicaea and Constantinople Creed and drew up a statement of faith—Chalcedon Definition, according to which Chris is the one divine Son, possessing at once complete deity and complete humanity. Christ is not “out of” two natures but “exists in” two natures, which are neither divided from each other nor confused with each other.

Discussion Questions

How do we understand that a historical man is believed to be the eternal Son of God? What is at stake throughout this debate? Are you satisfied with the definition in the Chalcedon Decree? How can it be more than a human concomitant?

Syllabus: An Exploration of Modern Christian Demographics in Two Lessons

2006-10-02T10:02:00.000-07:00

Teaching Christian Demographics: Two Lessons
David Whidden
Proposed, Southern Methodist University
Fall 2006

Objective: Help students think through the implications of broad demographic changes in world Christianity, as well as different theological proposals that may support different visions of Christian renewal movements.

Key Questions: What will the future of Christianity look like? How will different demographic and theological proposals influence this future?

Session 1 – The Exorcism of a Gay Man at Lambeth 1998

Reading assigned:
Dave Barrett, Todd Johnson, and Peter Crossing, “Missiometrics 2005: A Global Survey of World Mission,” International Bulletin of Missionary Research, Volume 29, number 1, January 2005, pp. 27-30.
Philip Jenkins, “Next Christianity”, Atlantic Monthly 290.3 (October 2002), pp. 53-55, 58.
Philip Jenkins, “After ‘The Next Christendom’,” International Bulletin of Missionary Research, Volume 28, number 1, January 2001, pp. 20-22.
Joseph Claude Harris, “The Future Church: A Demographic Revolution,” America, March 18, 2002, pp. 7-9.
Spiritual Tidal Wave: The Origins and Impact of Pentecostalism, podcast or transcript at: http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/azusarevival/index.shtml

Introduction: Lambeth 1998. A brief history of how world demographics have impacted the Anglican communion. What does this foretell for the future of Christianity?

Lecture: Broad areas of content to be covered
a) Demographic growth in the South
b) Declining birthrates in the West
c) The corresponding growth of Islam
d) The growth of Catholicism
e) The emergence and continued growth of Pentecostalism

Discussion: What kind of local impact do demographic changes have locally? What are the implications of global demographics on Christianity? What might the re-evangelization of Europe look like? Is there a possibility of religious reverse-colonization?

Summary: Religious growth is not just about demographics, but the demographic issues will have a huge impact on the future of Christianity. At our next session we’ll talk about some specific proposals for the future of Christianity.

Session 2 – Further Discussion

Reading assigned:
John Shelby Spong, Why Christianity Must Change or Die: A Bishop Speaks to Believers in Exile – A New Reformation of the Church’s Faith and Practice, San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1998. pp. 3-21 (On Saying the Christian Creed with Honesty); 56-70 (Beyond Theism to New God Images); 184-199 (The Future Church: A Speculative Dream)
William Abraham, The Logic of Renewal, Grand Rapids Michigan: William Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2003. pp. 1-8 (The Logic of Renewal); pp. 71-92 (Dying for Renewal); pp. 153-172 (Renewal and the Quest for Intellectual Integrity).

Introduction: To follow up on last session, we’ll discuss several proposals for the future of the church.

Discussion: Which of these visions of the future of the church do you find appealing? Which one, if any, do you think will win out? Why? Is either of them viable given the demographic information we discussed last time? Is there such a thing as Christianity without God? What would a successful renewal look like for each of these authors? How would they respond to the Pentecostal movement we discussed last time?

Mark 9: Things are not as they Seem: The Greatness of the Poor, the Wounded, and the Little Child

2006-10-02T09:54:00.000-07:00

There was not a dry eye in the place when Fr. WB preached his latest sermon. Find it here.

The Crucifixion (Good Friday, Cross, Faith, Truth, Power)

2006-09-23T12:20:00.000-07:00

Holy Week 2006
Presented at Berkely Seminary at Yale Divinity School
St. Luke's Chapel
P.T.

“Let us see if his words are true, and let us test what will happen at the end of his life.”

How many times, in the Gospels, when Jesus starts to say something, does he begin with the words, “Truly, I tell you”?

“Truly, I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.”...“Truly, I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”...“Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”..."Truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day.”

All four of the evangelists—Matthew, Mark, Luke and John—are agreed: Jesus claims to speak truly. But of the four, it is John who writes most about truth, who depicts Jesus saying, “Truly I tell you,” the most—and it is John who has Jesus going one step further: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” In John’s gospel, Jesus does not just speak truly—Jesus is truth, the true Word of God made flesh in the world.

“Let us see if his words are true, and let us test what will happen at the end of his life.”

If Jesus speaks truly—if he himself is truth—how can his words be tested? What standard can be brought to measure his claims? Is there another, competing truth that trumps the truth of Jesus? Only if Jesus speaks falsely is there a truth that can be brought against him, that will prove him to be a fraud and a liar. If Jesus speaks truly—if he is, indeed, the truth—there is no truth beyond himself that could challenge or test him. So how then, is he to be tested? How will we see if his words are true? How can we prove that he is a liar, a deceiver who will lead us astray? How can we rid ourselves of this inconvenient man, this righteous man—the very sight of him is a burden to us!

“Let us test him with insult and torture. Let us condemn him to a shameful death.”

If we cannot defeat him with truth, then there are other ways, easier ways really. We can beat him and mock him, belittle him, dress him up in robes and a crown, make a spectacle of him: “Hail, King of the Jews!” We can make him small and silly, flog him till he can barely stand, watch him bleed, just like we do. He’s no different from us, really, he’s just a man—just one man, and there are many of us. There are enough of us to do away with him. Truth or no truth, it doesn’t matter—he will die like any other man.

“Here is your King! Shall I crucify your King?”

What do we do in the face of an inconvenient truth? What happens when the truth confronts us with a reality that is painful and unpleasant, when it questions our lives and the ways we’re living them; ways we really like, ways that we don’t want to give up? How do we justify ourselves; how do we evade the truth; how do we make it go away?

“Away with him! Away with him! Crucify Him!”

Truly, it’s all very easy. The best way to stifle the truth is to deny that truth is even possible. During Jesus’ inquisition, Pilate asks, “What is truth?” This is the first step toward dispensing with truth: ask what it is in a dismissive way, question whether we can ever really know truth in the first place. Ask a philosopher about how to define truth and you’ll hear a lot about coherence theories, correspondence theories, pragmatist theories, minimalist theories—but you won’t hear a definitive answer to your question. Truth is subtle and difficult to grasp; it’s a tenuous, fragile thing, easy to call into question, easy to dismiss when it’s convenient. And what are you left with, once you’ve convinced yourself that the quest for truth is an impossible task, far too difficult to bother with? What do you put in the place of truth?

Pilate has the answer: in the absence of truth, you have power. Pilate says to Jesus, “Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?” In the vacuum left after the death of truth, there’s lots of room for power to play. There’s a whole mess of degenerate post-modern, post-structuralist, post-colonial, post-whatever theory that wants to say just that: there’s no such thing as truth—truth is just a mask for power. And there is, ironically, a certain measure of truth in this kind of thinking: we sinful creatures do try to claim truth as a way of justifying how we use power. But if we’re going to get away with it, we have to get rid of the one who is the Truth: we have to crucify him.

And once we have discredited, humiliated, and killed the Truth, we are free to make our own truth. The chief priests quibble with Pilate about the inscription over Jesus’ head: “Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’ but ‘This man said, I am King of the Jews.’” And what is Pilate’s answer? “What I have written I have written.” The priests and Pilate both want to make their own truth, the truth that is most convenient for them, that serves their interests best. Neither inscription is quite right, but Pilate has the power to make his stick: “What I have written I have written.” Truth doesn’t matter; the truth can be met with power, it can be changed with power. “Do you not know that I have power to crucify you?” Isn’t that exactly what the Cross is: Power set against Truth?

Good Friday is the day that Power clashes with Truth. And what happens? Power wins—the Truth dies. “He said, ‘It is finished.’ Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.”

“Let us test him with insult and torture, so that we may find out how gentle he is, and make trial of his forbearance.”

How much can he take? How far can we push him? How many lashes with the whip, how many blows about his head—the thorns digging into his brow—how many hours on the Cross? How many sins can we heap on him, how many evil deeds can we make him witness, how much hurt can we inflict on each other while he looks on? How long will he suffer our wickedness to continue, how long will he tolerate the pollution of his creation, how long before his mercy is exhausted and his gentle nature gives way to wrath, a wrath we know is there, the wrath we know we deserve?

He takes it all. Everything that the world can throw at him, every drop of hatred and rebellion and falsehood is wrapped up in those two hard wooden beams that twist his body into shapes that should never be, and he takes it all, even unto death. We killed him, yes, but did we really think we could break him—that the one who resisted the Father of Lies would succumb to our temptation?

Despite the pain of the Cross, despite the burden he carries, he does not lash out: his gentleness holds; his mercy endures. He bears the weight of the world’s sin and he carries it down in death to the Pit. On the Cross, Jesus’ death swallows up death—evil is turned against evil, the Kingdom of Satan is divided against itself and cannot stand. And as the dead man’s arms are stretched out on the cross, the living God, who created heaven and earth, stretches himself out through that death into the realm of death and darkness, into the far reaches of sin that his divine nature abhors, and takes the whole sick, confused world into his loving embrace.

“Great things are they that you have done, O Lord my God! How great your wonders and your plans for us!”

The victory is won; the power of death is broken; the unchallenged reign of sin is over. And yet, the man is still dead; he is taken down from the Cross and laid in a tomb. His task is not fully completed—the world is still feverish from its illness—the people do not yet know and share the salvation he has worked for them. How will they learn of this Good News? Who will proclaim it to them? How will they know that they no longer need to wrestle each other with power? He must return to them, he must let them know that Truth lives, that they have not been abandoned to always pit power against power, one so-called truth against another.
He will return to them, and he will give them a gift to help them clear their minds. He will give them back the instrument of his death. He will give it back to them, not as it was before, not as a sign of the judgment of death, but as a sign of the judgment for truth. He will claim it as his own, sanctified and made glorious, a Holy Cross given to the world to show that the living Truth can bring great good out of great evil, that God redeems power and turns it to right ends.

The truth will still be elusive, and the temptation to replace it with misguided power will not fade away, especially for those who wish to follow him. Seeing through a glass darkly, they will always be tempted to seize a part of his truth and use it as a weapon against others, to substitute what they wrongly desire to be true for what it is actually true. They will say, “The scriptures are clear, Jesus wants this,” or they will say, “The Holy Spirit is doing a new thing” so that the Scriptures and the Holy Spirit say only what they want them to say. They will need to learn, again and again, to cast their truths before his Cross, to let their desire for power come under his judgment of truth. They will need to humble themselves as he was humble, to find their righteousness in his righteousness, and they will need to remember to pray in the brilliant shadow of His Cross. Let all of us gathered here, all of us so in need of Christ’s Cross, pray so now.

Syllabus: Teaching Paul in One Class Period

2006-09-20T20:43:00.000-07:00

Mary C. Moorman
Proposed, Southern Methodist University
Fall 2006

Required Reading:

1. The Holy Bible: Acts 1-10, The Epistle to the Galatians.
2. E.P. Sanders. Paul: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press, 2001.
3. N.T. Wright, Saul the Persecutor, Paul the Convert and Good News for Israel. From What St. Paul Really Said. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997.

Class Outline:

I. Paul the Jew: Explore the contemporary Jewish expectations and tenets that Paul believed.
a. Covenant

b. Obedience to the Law/sacrifice as covenantal bond; here emphasize themes of -

i. Monotheism, sin, and moral responsibility.

ii. Cultic sacrifice for atonement.
iii. "Hilasterion."
iv. Concepts of inclusive substitution in Israel’s theology and practice.

c. Messiah as Covenant Keeper; here emphasize relevant lore on the nature of the Messiah.

II. From Persecutor to Preacher of Christ: Explore the defining beginnings of Paul’s Theology on the Damascus Road.
a. Define "Christophany" and its relevance to Paul’s self-identification as an “apostle.”
b. Discuss the Damascus Road experience, as interpreted by Paul in Galatians, and by Luke and the church community in the book of Acts.
c. Explain Paul’s re-evaluation of the Cross and Jesus’ Messiah status on the basis of His Resurrection.

III. Jesus of Nazareth as Israel’s Messiah- Implications: Grace become universal, inclusion of the Gentiles, Climax of the Covenant.
a. Paul’s reading of Jewish promises in the Gospel narrative.
b. Paul’s reading of the Law and the Gospel.

IV. Paul’s Message Then and Now: Universality of Sin, Liability to Judgment, and Salvation/Justification in Christ. Briefly discuss Paul’s theological legacy in the history of the Church, focusing on these themes:
a. Grace as the sheer gift that seals God’s Covenant.
b. Cross as the revelation of the God who loves sinners and Gentiles.
c. The Scandal of the Gospel of the Crucified Messiah.

James 1 (Speech, Words, Conduct, Tongue, Sin, Responsibility, Talk, Charity, Repentence, Submission)

2006-09-12T18:48:00.000-07:00

Fr. Lee Nelson
Presented to the Parish and People of St. Francis Church – Dallas, TX
The Feast of St. Patrick, Bishop and Confessor

“Therefore put away all filthiness and rank growth of wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.”

From the Epistle of Saint James, I speak to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

The story goes that
on a misty Friday morning
in the cool October air
of Arkansas
- in the fall,
an old man rowed his fishing boat out into the middle of the lake.

He breathed easily as the oars cut through the water, glad of the peace and quiet.

As the sun began to sear through the layers of the mist, turning night into day, he heard the distant slam of a truck door.

He knew it was a truck because of the sound it made, the way the aluminum roof popped up. Besides that – no one drove cars in these parts.

A few minutes later, he heard the unmistakable sound of an Evinrude Outboard Motor, how he detested motor boats.

Pulling up to the port side of the old man’s craft, breaking through the mist, cutting the engine as he did, was the local game warden.

“Mornin!” Yelled the game warden.

“Humpf,” grunted the old man.

“Reckon’ the fish ought to be biting this fine morning.”

“Mmmm hhmmmm.”

“Say. You got a license?”

“Mmmm hhmmmm.”

“Well, gist remember – no trotlines or trawlin’ and the bag today is 7 – largemouth or small.”

“Mmmm hmmmm.”

The old man reached into his pocket and pulled out his old walnut pipe, tobacco, tamper and lighter. Shoving a plug of tobacco into the pipe, he lit it and began puffing away.

“Say, I don’t see that you’ve brought any tackle!,” hollered the warden.

“Uh uh.”

“Just here to enjoy the fine morning then?”

“Uh uh.”

As he grunted the old man pulled a pine box out from under the seat in the stern. On the pine box was some red stenciled lettering – marking the box.

T. N. T.

As the old man pulled out a fresh stick, the game warden was indignant.

“What in tarnation are you doin!?”

The old man did not respond as he stuck the fuse into his pipe, the fuse flaring immediately.

As the game warden continued his shouting, the old man lobbed the stick of dynamite into the lake, opposite the warden.

“KABOOOOOM!”

Flop, flop, flop, flop, flop. The fish began to rise to the surface, and the old man pulled his net from under the seat in the bow, gathering them as the warden – astonished - hollered.

“Don’t make another move! You’re under arrest! Poaching by means of explosives is illegal in this state and punishable by a three-thousand dollar fine and jail time.”

The old man withdrew another stick, stuck the fuse in his pipe, and lobbed the stick directly into the warden’s boat.

Said the old man, pulling the pipe from his teeth,

“Are you here to talk, or are you here to fish?”

[Pause]

“Are you here to talk, or are you here to fish?”

We do an awful lot of talking – we have talk shows, talk radio, talking heads, talking points, and you can talk shop, turkey or terms, while being the talk of the town.

We chat, gossip, rattle, tell tales, tell stories, chew the fat, and spill the beans.

Often, we think that talking is a good replacement for action, in other words, if we talk enough, then people will think that we’re actually doing something – even when we’re not.

Opposite that, we think that talking is a good replacement for listening and for hearing.

The great tragedy of it all is that we have lost, in a sense, our ability to hear and to act.

It is in this light that I wish to bring to light the following section from the Epistle of Saint James:

“let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls. But be doers of the word, and not merely
hearers who deceive themselves.”

In our haste to speak, and slowness to listen, we commit two essential faults. The first includes actions and words which are out of alignment with the action of God and His word. The second includes failure to act and failure to speak in accord with God’s commandment and word.

The first faults are classically defined as sins of commission. The second are classically defined as sins of omission – those things which we leave undone.

The first are well-defined – they are the “don’ts” of the Christian life, a life lived in accord with God’s perfect law. The Ten Commandments, the Commandments of Our Lord, all define action that is broken in the act itself. Idolatry, dishonor of mother and father, murder, adultery, theft, deceit, and covetousness – all are actions taken wrongly.

But, about this you need not be reminded. Most of us know all too well our own sin. The problem is not that we don’t know that we’re sinners – every Christian should know that.

The problem is that we keep at it, committing sin after sin – we all have our habitual sin, and it is our ruin.

The kind which we often forget are those sins of omission, when we omit right action, and in the omission of righteous action, sin.

The woman broken down on the side of the road with no cell phone, the orphan, the widow, the homeless man, the victims of hunger – all decry in union with Our Lord, our lack of action.

Perhaps you know the justifications for this: the blind eye is turned and the reasoning is, however false, that you are powerless anyway and there wasn’t anything that could have been said or done. That if the lady had a cell phone she wouldn’t be stranded, that if someone would only adopt the orphan, care for the widow, etc. etc. – there wouldn’t be a problem. And like the high priest and the publican, we walk right by the man injured on the road, and let Good Samaritans do our acts of charity for us.

If there is a sickness in the Church today it is twofold.

First, we have denied our responsibility to those in need, and have, through selective reading of the Scriptures and selective hearing of the Spirit of God rejected our duty to Christian charity.

The author Jim Wallis recently wrote a book called “God’s Politics.” In it he describes the work of a graduate student in biblical theology who took up a pair of scissors and cut out every verse in the Bible calling for justice for the poor and oppressed, the widow and orphan.

What was left was a tattered and torn Bible, missing most of the Prophets, much of the Gospels and almost all of Deuteronomy and Numbers.

Wallis travels the country, speaking in churches, holding up this bible, and says “This is your bible.”

So, we are plagued by selective hearing.

Second, we have, after the mentality of corporate America, begun to “outsource” works of charity, far more content to write a check than give or our time.

So, in short, in addition to the multitude of sins which we commit by our own action, we have the multitude of sins which we commit by our in-action.

This is where James speaks most clearly:

“Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls. But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.”

Thus, the first step is to put away the sin, more appropriately to allow Jesus Christ to penetrate our hardness of heart and put away our sin, no longer grasping at it, hanging on to it.

But, we all know how long that lasts – not very, right?

Seems like every time I say – “well, I’ll never do that again.” Less than a week later – there it is.

This especially happens with my particular habits.

Ought we give up on repentance?

Absolutely not!

Without repentance – no one can enter the Kingdom of Heaven. The apostle Paul tells us that repentance leads to salvation and brings no regret.

James upbraids us to – in addition to repentance – to receive with meekness the implanted word which has the power to save our souls.

The part often missed is “with meekness.”

The key to meekness is submission. Submission to God’s righteousness and no other. Measuring ourselves not by our own standards, but by His. No excuses.

The meek man says “tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

The meek man listens to God.

The meek man puts away his rationalism, his emotionalism, his desires and will, and submits to the judgment of Almighty God, that “implanted word.”

He looks into God’s perfect law and he perseveres.

He is not the hearer that forgets, he is the doer that acts.

He is not all talk.

And when the trials come, the weakness, the temptation and the struggles, he leans upon meekness.

He does not speak his words, for that is proper only to God.

It is God who speaks.

It is with a word we were brought into being: “let us make man in our image.”

And it is with His Word that we are redeemed.

“Forgive them, Father” and “well done, good and faithful servant.”

Our talking, our seemingly endless talking, cannot save us, it cannot perfect us in any way whatsoever.

“Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls. But be doers of the word.”

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

Suffering and Glory: Sharing in the Doxa of the Cross (John 12, Glory, Suffering, Grain of Wheat, Lent)

2006-09-12T18:40:00.000-07:00

Fr. Lee Nelson
Presented to the Parish and People of St. Francis Church – Dallas, TX
The Feast of St. Patrick, Bishop and Confessor

“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”

These are the words of the Savior, not before His ascent to the Mount of Transfiguration, not before His Blessed Resurrection, not before His ascension to the right hand of the Father, but on the night of the Passover, on the night He would be handed over to suffering and death, on the night He would be betrayed.

But after these words, He says still more:

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it bears much fruit. He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If any one serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there shall my servant be also; if any one serves me; the Father will honor him.”

Honor and the following of Jesus to the Cross. Honor and suffering. Suffering and glory. Suffering and glory are an odd pairing in the eyes of this unbelieving world.

Suffering is a thing to be avoided. In the modern world, we like to think that we have indeed done away with suffering, but retained the glory. We like to think that we can have honor without cuts and bruises, indeed honor without wounds. This is possibly best seen in the Middle East, especially Iraq, where we want to believe that honor and glory can come without cost. This is invariably not so.

As well, we can look to the ever-growing appeal of euthanasia, of so-called “civilized” capital punishment, without pain, and even those dentists who anesthetize for even the simple check-up.

And yet, Jesus tells us that the means of His glory, what we will now refer to using the greek term, doxa, is the Cross. It is not merely the Cross which brings glory, but also the events of His Passion. He sweats blood, he agonizes, he perhaps suffers the worst pain of all, the pain of abandonment. And yet, this is how the Son of Man is glorified.

It is this which leads St. Paul to write to the Galatians: “But far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

But it is not merely the suffering of Our Lord which I wish to focus on tonight, it is rather the call He issues to those who would be faithful to Him – the call to join Him in His suffering, the call which says “If anyone serves me, he must follow me;” It is a following which leads to Cross, it is a following which leads to humiliation, torture, despair, and rejection.

Why must we follow Him in His suffering? That is the first question.

The second question is how we must follow Him in suffering. But, we will turn to that question later.

Why suffering?

Saint Paul writes to the Romans: “…we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.” For Saint Paul, the necessary means of glorification with Jesus Christ at the right hand of the Father is conditional upon our suffering with Him. He says that the sufferings of his time are truly nothing compared with the mysterious glory of eternity with God. In a sense, one could say that suffering prepares the human person for glorification.

But, there is a bit of history and theology which needs to be brought to the fore. In the 7th Century, a theological battle arose which would pit Emperors against monks, princes against popes, bishops against bishops.

The battle centers upon the definition of the Council of Chalcedon, which stated clearly the following:

“Therefore, following the holy fathers, we all with one accord teach men to acknowledge one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, at once complete in Godhead and complete in manhood, truly God and truly man, consisting also of a reasonable soul and body; of one substance with the Father as regards his Godhead, and at the same time of one substance with us as regards his manhood; like us in all respects, apart from sin; as regards his Godhead, begotten of the Father before the ages, but yet as regards his manhood begotten, for us men and for our salvation, of Mary the Virgin, the God-bearer; one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, Only-begotten, recognized in two natures, without confusion, without change, without division, without separation; the distinction of natures being in no way annulled by the union, but rather the characteristics of each nature being preserved and coming together to form one person and subsistence, not as parted or separated into two persons, but one and the same Son and Only-begotten God the Word, Lord Jesus Christ; even as the prophets from earliest times spoke of him, and our Lord Jesus Christ himself taught us, and the creed of the fathers has handed down to us.”

This has been referred to through the ages as the Definition of Hypostatic Union. Hypostasis in Greek means “person.” Thus, it is the teaching of the Council that the two natures in Christ are united in one Person. Both natures are complete and full.

Now, this was in the year 451. Any controversy which there had been had seemingly disappeared. Yet, in the years following, the debate turned hot.

The debate, in fact centered upon Christ’s agony in the garden. And this is where the question of suffering comes to the fore.

Jesus is kneeling in the garden, sweat dripping from His brow, and he says: “Father, if thou art willing, remove this cup from me; nevertheless not my will, but thine be done.”

The Church Fathers had long struggled for an apology on this question: how can there be two wills in Christ, both a human and divine, when one seems to be opposed to the other?”

Cyril of Alexandria had answered the question in this way. Here, I quote from Robert Louis Wilken in The Spirit of Early Christian Thought. Cyril represents a shift in exegesis:

“”Now is the Son of Man glorified.” This text was perplexing because it identified Christ’s suffering with glory. Jesus had said “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified” How can this be? According to the Scriptures, the Son of God, the second person of the Holy Trinity, is encompassed by glory. If the Son of God is already crowned with glory, how can he be said to be glorified now? Texts of this sort received little attention in earlier commentators, and Athanasius seems to have avoided them. Cyril, however, does not balk at the identification of suffering with glory, and in his commentary on John plunges ahead to meet the challenge presented by the words of the gospel. When Saint John uses the term glory [or doxa] in this context, says Cyril, it can only mean that Christ is glorified as man, which, he adds, is something different from being eternally glorified as the Son of God. Further, the evangelist indicates that this glory is greater than the glory associated with his miracles. Armed with this insight Cyril turns to the heart of the matter, that the significance of the passage is that Christ’s glory is found in his suffering.”

Thus, suffering for Cyril is not merely an unfortunate element of the life of Christ, but is instead the “necessary fulfillment of the Incarnation.” In essence, it is the human nature of Christ which makes him unique, and his triumph over death is made possible by simply the sort of human being He was.

Cyril sums it up: “If he conquered as God, to us it is nothing; but if he conquered as man we conquered in Him.”

Yet, many were saying in those days that Christ could not have a human will, but rather the divine will “trumps” the human. Of course, this brings up the question: “How could the teaching of the Chalcedonian Council be true, that Jesus Christ is fully man and fully divine if his human will is secondary or subjugated to the divine will, or if his human will simply does not exist?”

Many attempts were made to answer the question.

But, it wasn’t until a lowly Byzantine Monk named Maximus came to the fore that the problem was lent any clarity.

Maximus was born in Constantinople in 580 and educated in the same city. By age 30, he had become secretary to the Emperor. He was an intellectual force to be reckoned with, but he found the imperial court dissatisfying. In 614, he resigned to enter the monastery at Chrysopolis. In the Eastern monastic tradition, it is not unusual for a monastic to move from monastery to monastery, unlike in the West, where the Benedictine Rule prescribes life-long stability. Thus, Maximus moves around a bit, first to the Monastery of St. George and later to other monasteries.

614 is a year of some note, however. It is the same year in which Jerusalem was dominated by the Persians, a precursor to the Crusades in later centuries. In the following decades, the Persian army made its way toward Constantinople, demolishing the ancient churches as it went. Maximus was thus forced to abandon the monastic foundations surrounding the Bosporus and head to Carthage in North Africa by way of Cyprus.

Maximus is perhaps the first to make an effective apology and exegesis of Our Lord’s request that the cup pass from his lips. Most of the Church Fathers had, up to this point, understood the words to be hypothetical. Yet Maximus asks the question, do the words “Not my will, but thine…” make sense without “let this cup pass from me.” He says that, in fact, Christ did drink the cup in perfect obedience. For Maximus, the words “let this cup pass from me” express perfect obedience and assent to the Divine Will of the Father, that in His person, He conforms his human will wholly to God’s will. It is thus his conclusion that there is not “one energy” or “one working” in the Son, but two without contrariety between them, while the distinction is preserved.

Thus, the suffering of Christ only can make sense in that His human will is conformed to the will of the Godhead in complete obedience, accepting the suffering, accepting the shame. We ought not be confused on this point, though it may seem to be picayune.

If the wholeness of Christian theology hinges on an iota, that found in the heretical homoiousios as opposed to the orthodox homoousios, then we as orthodox catholic Christians cannot be confused either. Since the Reformation, it has been opined by many that God the Father submitted His Son to the pain and suffering of the Cross. No human will there. Yet the Church Fathers, especially Maximus issue the call to us to know and understand that Jesus wills his own suffering in His human nature and will just as much as His divine corollaries.

Maximus writes:

“If the Word made felsh does not himself will naturally as a human being and accomplish things in accordance with his human nature, how can he willingly undergo hunger and thirst, labor and weariness, sleep and everything else common to man? For the Word does not simply will and accomplish these things in accordance with the transcendent and infinite nature he shares with the Father and the Holy Spirit… For if it is only as God that he wills these things, and not as himself being a human being, then either the body has become divine by nature, or the Word has changed its nature and become flesh by abandoning its own divinity, or the flesh is not all in itself endowed with a rational soul, but in itself completely lifeless and irrational.”

We are often fond of saying that the God’s plan of salvation was dependent upon Mary’s utterance of the words: “fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum” or “be it unto me according to thy word.” This fiat makes possible the Incarnation of the Word, the Word made flesh. This “yes” of Mary is worthy of our genuflexion, yet it is not wholly indicative of merely God’s initiative in salvation, but also of man’s cooperation. Might I argue, however, that this is not supremely so in Mary, Our Blessed Mother, but that it is rather supremely true in Our Lord Jesus, who says “not my will, but thine?”

In this one phrase, Christ wills the salvation of mankind, not merely as the Divine Son of God, co-eternal with the Father, but as a man also!

In this, He has shown us a new way of being human – new life to the fullest!

If we wish to be perfect, as He bids us to be, we must indeed follow Him in His suffering. St. Augustine says “we can recognise this cup on the lips of Christ, when he says, Father, if it can be so, let this cup pass from me. It is about this cup that the martyrs said, I will receive the cup of salvation and call upon the name of the Lord.”

Another notable bishop, closer to our own day, Robert Terwilliger wrote: “Martyrdom is theology with blood on it.” We must suffer, dear friends, because Our Lord suffered. We must suffer because of the same dissenting theological conviction which He had. We must follow Him to the Cross!

Maximus most certainly knew this, for he is known not as a theologian, but as a Confessor and Martyr. In AD 640, the authorities in Constantinople, including the Patriarch issued a decree entitled the Ekthesis which stated that the two natures in Christ were united in a single will, representing the monothelite heresy. The emperor Heraclius died in 641, and was succeeded by Constans II, who “not only accepted [the Ekthesis] but also began to impose the teaching on the empire.” Thus, in the Eastern Church, the official teaching was monothelite.

But, in the Western Church, the Bishops of Rome had taught, with Maximus, the two wills in Christ, and in 649, the Church elected Martin I to the Chair of Peter. Four months after his enthronement, Martin called a council at the Lateran basilica to discuss the monothelite controversy, and Maximus came to Rome as a key figure.

Important to note is the fact that Maximus was never ordained to any order – he was a layman. Yet, he rose to authority in the council, which issued a decree defending the Chalcedonian Definition and defending also the doctrine of two wills. The decree was then sent to the Emperor in Constantinople. He was not amused.

He immediately sent soldiers to Rome to arrest Pope Martin, but the Roman guard held. Several more years later, and the Imperial soldiers penetrated the guards of Rome and arrested Martin, now laying ill in St. John Lateran. They came in with lances and swords and spears and handed Martin an imperial order that he had been deposed. He was taken to Constantinople in chains. After being held for three months, he was tried for treason against the Emperor. They took him to the courtyard, where they tore the pallium from his neck and led him through the streets in chains to exile in Crimea. Meanwhile, the Church in Rome gave him the ultimate humiliation, electing his successor while he was still alive, and in 655, Martin died a martyr from starvation, cold and mistreatment, the last Pope to be named “martyr.”

Maximus suffered a worse fate. He was imprisoned and tried for treason. The authorities had his right hand cut off and his tongue ripped out, sending him to exile on the shores of the Black Sea where he died. At his trial, he said “I have no teaching of my own, only the common teaching of the Catholic Church. For I did not promote any formula that could be considered my own teaching.”

Thus, the how of suffering. I daresay that we, as Catholics, once cozy members of the Episcopal Church, left alone to do as we please, will not be allowed to do so any longer. We will lead lives of exile, we will lead lives of persecution. The all-encompassing “they” may seek to cut out our tongues for proclamation of the truth as found in the Catholic Faith. Not only this, but we suffer the sufferings common to all mankind. We suffer the uncertainty of global economies. We suffer the ever-growing list of ailments – cancers, heart diseases, airborne viruses. We suffer from chronic depressions, from want, from broken checking accounts, from marginalization. And yet, if we follow the example set before us by Our Lord Jesus, we will find glory in these sufferings.

We are to say with Him: “not my will, but thine.”

If we are to make sense of suffering, so integral to the Christian life, we need look no further than the Cross. In this, we might say from the hospital bed, or the depths of chemotherapy, or common ridicule, we might say with St. Paul, that these sufferings are nothing compared to the glory that is to be revealed to us.

For we await the glory, the doxa of Heaven, for which the God-Man suffered and died to bring us. He did so, not as God only, but as God and Man, made manifest.

Mark 7, Isaiah 35: Dealing with what we’ve been dealt (Suffering, Healing, Guilt, Restoration, Truth, Redemption)

2006-09-12T07:14:00.000-07:00

September 9, 2006
St. Matthias Church
Dallas, Texas
Fr. Will Brown

In today’s readings we see the Lord manifested as healer… as the physician who gives sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, and who loosens the tongues of the mute. Such healing was one of the hallmarks of Messiah, foretold by Isaiah in today’s OT reading: “Behold, your God will come… he will come and save you. Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped” (Isaiah 35.4f).

And in today’s gospel reading, we read of a man who experienced first hand the healing power of the Messiah. Listen again:

"And they brought him a man who was deaf and had an impediment in his speech; and they besought him to lay his hand upon him. And taking him aside form the multitude privately, he put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue; and looing up to heaven, he sighed, and said to him, “Eph’phatha,” that is, “Be opened.” And his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly."

Now, always bear in mind the following. This is a central message of the Gospel of Christ: things are not as they seem. Things are not as they seem. Ostensibly, we have here a straightforward story about the power of Christ to heal infirmity; and it is that. But Christ is not just what he seems to be. He seems to be a healer, a prophet, an itinerate Rabbi from Galilee. And he is those things. But he’s not just what he seems to be. Who is he really? What is he really? And what is he really doing? What is he really teaching? Here’s a hint: his mission on earth was not merely to heal some sick people and get you to behave better. The point of the Evangelists telling the stories of Christ’s healing in the four gospels is not so that we will think “Wow, that’s neat; I should be nicer.”

If you want to know what’s up in the Gospels, if you want to know the background story, a good place to start is the prologue to the Gospel of John. There we are told who this guy is – and knowing who he is will put us on the right track of figuring out what he’s really up to when we read an edifying but seemingly innocuous story about Jesus healing someone or saying something interesting. The prologue to John’s Gospel tells us where this healer came from, and it starts at the beginning. THE Beginning. “In the Beginning,” it says, “was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God; all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it…. The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not.”

Jesus is the “Word of God” … That means that he’s God’s perfect and definitive self-expression. He is the life that is the light of men. And when he walks around Galilee, teaching and healing, as he does in today’s gospel lesson, he is shining in the darkness. And people then, as now, are befuddled and don’t get it; they misunderstand him; some say he’s a Samaritan and has a demon; some say that he was just an interesting and benevolent sage; and some conspire against him, mock and revile him, and nail him to a cross… because they don’t understand who he is, where his power comes from, or what he’s really up to. And sometimes we don’t understand, or we forget, or we begin to have our doubts.

The human predicament – our predicament – is a congenital blindness and deafness. Each of us is born into it, to one degree or another. It is the separation of God that mankind thrust himself into at the very beginning, when Eve listened to the beguiling serpent telling her that she would be a more authentic and enlightened self if she took matters into her own hands and ignored the loving mandate of God. That was the beginning of our congenital predicament, of the congenital blindness of humans to the presence of God, and of our deafness to his Word. And notice that Eve is complicit in her own being beguiled. What the snake says to her sounds good, she engages the temptation, and then she acts on it. And that’s how all sin works: we are both victims and perpetrators: we are victims of temptations, inclinations, and predispositions that come to us through no fault of our own – from our culture, from our families, from our genetic makeup. [Some people inherit genetic predispositions to alcoholism. I’ve known a number of gay men, and not a single one of them had a good relationship with his father as a child. Some people have mothers who never held them or abused them, and they turn into misogynists, or become abusive themselves. Its impossible to overcome the baggage of sinfulness we inherit. And you see people like that and you say how could they help it?] But we become complicit when we assent to those temptations, when we indulge our inherited screwed-upness. We become guilty when we say yes to the serpent whispering in our ears, and when that yes is translated into action, when we wallow in the darkness and pass it on to others.

But thanks be to God, the True Light that enlightens every man has come into the world, the Light that shines in the middle of our world’s darkness -- and our world’s darkness has not overcome it. And the Word of God has become flesh and dwelt among us. You see: Christ is the Light of God that enlightens every man, and the Word of God that, when we hear it, when we hear him, he effects our understanding of God and of God’s love for us. For what is a light but something that you see? And what is a word but something that you hear? So Christ as the Light of the World is able to open the eyes of the blind, to shine into our darkness; and as the Word of God, is able to open the ears of the deaf, to speak himself into our silence. And by doing so, by healing us of our inability to perceive God, he restores us to the condition that we have not known since before the Fall, before Adam and Eve sinned, and were removed from the presence of God.

In Christ we are able to see beyond mere appearances, beyond the trite reality of how things only seem to be. We are able to see the glory of God shining through the fissures in the surface of the physical world. It is Christ – and Christ alone – who enables us to sing with the Angels: Holy, Holy, Holy… Heaven and earth ARE full of thy glory. Understand? We can’t see that without Christ [We proclaim that the heavens and earth are full of the glory of God; but can we see it? If we look out the window do we see it full of the glory of God? Or do we see Taco Cabana? See, we’re still touched by the darkness…] And without Christ we can’t hear the groanings of the Holy Ghost brooding over the silent surface of our formlessness and void. That is the real blindness and the real deafness he has come to heal: and that is what we can see and hear, with the help of the Holy Spirit, too, beneath the surface of today’s Gospel reading.

To be succinct: like the deaf man in the gospel, we have been touched by Christ, and the healing of our insensitivity to the presence of God, who has formed the chaos of our former selves, in the waters of Baptism, has begun in us. Christ has spoken with authority into our lives: let there be light. Let light shine in this darkened, sin-stained heart. And our task now is to collude not with the temptations and darkness that still break upon us from our fallen contexts, that keep us from seeing what we claim to believe is really there, the heavens and the earth full of the glory of God, despite appearances. Our task is now is to stop cooperating with that inherited darkness, and to cooperate instead with the work he has begun in us; to use the light he has given us, to shine it in the recesses of our consciousness where the darkness still creeps in. And this cooperation – no longer with the works of darkness, but with the Word of God in Christ through the agency of the Holy Ghost – this collusion with God undoes sin, and breaks the cancerous power of spiritual blindness and deafness that humans pass on to one another. This cooperation with God’s redeeming work – by allowing his will to determine our actions, by giving in to him, rather than giving in to sinful habits and propensities – this is how we turn back toward him, and retrace the steps of our expulsion from the Garden, back into Paradise. This is what St. James is talking about in today’s epistle when he says that we must “be doers of the word” – that we are to be Christ’s collaborators, first by collaborating with his work in us, and then by collaborating with his work in the world. (And that’s why in today’s gospel lesson, Jesus first opens the deaf man’s ears, so that he can hear the word, and then touches his tongue, so that he too can be a proclaimer of the Word.) Then James says if you look into the perfect law, that is Christ, if you look at the perfect law and persevere, by being a doer that acts, not just a hearer of the gospel, but a proclaimer of the gospel, you will be blessed in what you do. You will be blessed. That’s a promise of God. You can take it to the bank.

And that’s our task, brothers and sisters, until the Lord returns: to persevere in collusion with Christ’s healing, enlightening, proclamation of God’s love and redemption. To collude with that work in ourselves, by hearing and re-hearing his word, and then to collude with that work in the darkness of the world by proclaiming it ourselves, until he comes again with power and great glory, and there’s no darkness left to hide in.

Syllabus: Intro to Judaism

2006-09-12T07:08:00.000-07:00

Proposed, September 2006
Southern Methodist University
Mary Moorman

Intro to Judaism

This course will focus on significant themes in the history of Judaism, the historical development of Jewish identity, and the unfolding of the Jews’ relationship to God and community. The readings, lectures, and discussion sessions will combine historical and conceptual analysis of constant themes identifiable throughout the Biblical, Rabbinic, Medieval and early modern periods, particularly with regard to relational encounters with the Gentile world and cultures. We will rely heavily on the Biblical texts, on themes from rabbinic law, and on the commentary of celebrated figures in modern Jewish thought. These themes will concentrate heavily on aspects of the integrated systems of Jewish law, theology, and worship as progressive constants of Jewish life among different social contexts. Each student is also expected to attain a basic level of comprehension in the written Hebrew alphabet by the end of the term.

The course will be based on one weekly lecture, and one weekly discussion for the analysis of reading material and film presentations. Each discussion meeting will be facilitated by the assigned moderator and oriented around a paper presented by the assigned presenter, whose commentary will be evaluated by his peers. For extra credit, a course blog will be available for ongoing discussion of relevant issues. It is assumed that each student is prepared to participate actively in all facets of the learning of this critical material through timely and critical readings, and through regular and active class attendance.

Course Requirements

Weekly Comments. 30% Each student is required to submit weekly comments, questions, personal reflections, and identification of major issues by drawing on and citing the assigned materials in detail. These commentaries are to be no more than one page in length and are submitted by email each Monday.

Mid Term Examination. 20% The mid term examination will consist of two components:

A) The exam will provide an extensive list of terminology pertaining to Jewish life, of which each student will select and define twenty terms in a concise sentence that demonstrates conversational grasp of the vocabulary.

B) Each student will demonstrate written proficiency with the Hebrew alphabet.

Final Paper. 25% Each student will write a ten-page exegesis/interpretation paper based on the text of Psalm 47. The paper may alternatively develop a statement of that Psalm in light of a theme addressed in the course. The top three of these papers will be submitted by the instructor for review at the Journal of Jewish Studies.

Final Exam. 25% The Final Examination will have two components:
A) Identification. Each student will be expected to read/translate a set of ten Hebrew words and then to elaborate on their significance.

B) Brief Essay.

Extra Credit (up to 15%)

A) Participation in ongoing course blog discussions.

B) Upon careful reflection, a student may opt, if he wishes, to participate as an observer in any of the Jewish high holy days falling within the term, whether at an appropriate Synagogue, a Jewish student center, or with a Jewish family or group of Jewish friends. Successful completion of the extra credit assignment will involve completion of a 3-5 page report detailing the observances of the day, and the student’s response to them, to be posted for commentary on the class blog.

Materials.

Required Texts.

Paul Johnson, A History of the Jews. Harper & Row, 1987.

The Holy Bible.

Milton Steinberg, As a Driven Leaf. Behrman House Publishing, 1996.

A Better Hebrew Primer and Home Workbook (Hebrew alphabet and basic grammar) from Torah Aura Productions.

Available in Course Packet and on Reserve

Jon D. Levenson, The Death and Resurrection of the Beloved Son: The Transformation of Child Sacrifice in Judaism and Christianity. Yale University Press, 1995.

Rabbi Ephraim ben Jacob of Bonn. The Akedah, translated from Oxford MS 1154, no. 205(=A); Berlin MS 9, no. 124 (=B); Selihot MS 446, The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, no. 172 (=N).

Neil Hecht, comp. Selected Materials in Jewish Law. Boston: Boston University School of Law, 2002.

Theodor Herzel, The Jewish State. Filiquarian Publishing, 2006

Leslie J Hoppe, Jewish Messianism and the Cult of Christ. ( The Catholic Biblical Quarterly April 30, 2000)

Jacob Katz, Exclusiveness and Tolerance: Studies in Jewish-Gentile Relations in Medieval and Modern Times. Greenwood Press, 1961.

Hillel Levine, Economic Origins of Antisemitism.
In Search of Sugihara. Free Press, 1996.

Jacob Neusner, Religion and Law: How through Halakah Judaism Sets Forth its Theology and Philosophy. Scholars Press, 1996.

David Novak, Halakah in a Theological Dimension. Scholars Press, 1985.

Law and Theology in Judaism. KTAV Publishing House, 1974.

Shalom Spiegel, The Last Trial: On the Legends and Lore of the Command to Abraham to Offer Isaac as a Sacrifice. Jewish Lights Publishing, 1993.

Isaac Bashevis Singer, Satan in Goray. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1996.

Elie Wiesel. Night. Hill and Wang, 2006.

Elie Wiesel. The Trial of God: A Play. Schocken, 1995.

Elie Wiesel. Wise Men and Their Tales, portraits of Biblical, Talmudic, and Hasidic Masters. Schocken, 2005.

Film: Abba Eban, “Heritage, Civilization, and the Jews” Monumental Series, available for viewing through university facilities.

Course Agenda.

Week 1. Clap your hands, all you nations; shout to God with cries of joy.

The Calling of Abraham and the covenants of the Patriarchs; the Akedah in Jewish identity; the acceptance of the Law by Jacob as a gift for the nations.

Issues. What is the nature and meaning of the Jewish “covenant” with God, in light of the fundamental narratives of the Jews?

Film. Part 1.

Required Reading:
o The Book of Genesis
o Spiegel, Shalom. The Last Trial
o Rabbi Ephraim ben Jacob of Bonn. The Akedah
o Jon D. Levenson, The Death and Resurrection of the Beloved Son
o Johnson, 1-24

Week 2. How awesome is the Lord Most High, the great King over all the earth!
The Implications of the Exodus; the Law given at Sinai; Torah and Jewish Worship

Issues: From the foundational narratives, how should we understand the concept of God’s “kingship” over the “nation” of Israel?

Film. Part 2; also “Covenant and Constitution”

Required Reading.
o Deuteronomy 3 and 4; Psalm 137; Psalm 119; the Book of Leviticus
o Johnson, 81-125
o Selections from Jewish Law.

Week 3. He subdued nations under us,  peoples under our feet.
National Heroes and their ethic: sex, lies, and violence?
Joshua, David, Solomon.

Issues: Violence in Israel and the merciful God- a quandary?

No Film

Required Reading:
• The Book of Joshua, I, II Kings
• Selections from Jewish Law.
• Johnson, 40-59.

Week 4. He chose our inheritance for us, the pride of Jacob, whom he loved. Selah.
The Prophets

Issues: How do the prophets respond to tragedy? How does Jewish suffering relate to God’s promises to the Jewish people? Is there a possible reconciliation between the idea of being God’s chosen people and the historical experience of exile?

No Film

Required Reading.
o The Book of Isaiah.
o Selections from Neusner and Novak: Religion and Law, Halakah in a Theological Dimension, Law and Theology in Judaism.

Week 5. God has ascended amid shouts of joy, the Lord amid the sounding of trumpets. Diaspora and the Shaping of the Tradition.

Issues: How did the culture of “Judaism” emerge from the nation, culture, law, and worship of national Israel?

Film. Part 3

Required Reading
o Johnson 59-166
o Steinberg, As a Driven Leaf

Week 6. Midterm Exam

Week 7. Sing praises to God, sing praises; sing praises to our King, sing praises.
Judaism and its worship between Christianity and Islam.

Issues: Was the development of Synagogue worship influenced by the growth of Christianity and the spread of Islam? If so, was this influence for better or worse in terms of Jewish identity? How has Christianity, as the offspring of Judaism, historically responded to Judaism?

Film. Part 4

Required Reading.
o Johnson, 169-230.
o Singer, Satan in Goray
o The Gospels of Matthew and John; The Epistles to the Hebrews and to the Romans.
o (Extra credit: Levine, Economic Origins of Antisemitism)

Week 8. For God is the King of all the earth; sing to him a psalm of praise.
Messianism and Modernization.

Issues: What is the nature of Jewish Messianism and hope in relation to modernization and the life of the Jewish Ghetto? What is the relationship, particularly in this period, between Jewish Messianic piety and the development of scholarship among Jews like Maimonodes?

Film: Part 5.

Required Reading.
o Johnson, 233-305
o Hoppe, Jewish Messianism and the Cult of Christ.

Week 10. God reigns over the nations;  God is seated on his holy throne.
Emancipation and Franchise.

Issues: Did the Jews fulfill their divine mandate to act as a righteous “pilgrim nation” among the nations in the European context? If so, how?

Film. Part 6

Required Reading.
o Johnson, 311-420.
o Katz, Exclusiveness and Tolerance.

Week 11. The nobles of the nations assemble for the people of the God of Abraham.
The Shoah, its Precedents, and its Echoes.

Issues: What trends in world history and attitudes led to the attempted genocide of the Jewish people in the 20th Century? What were the most significant influences shaping these attitudes? What theological/philosophical/liturgical wealth did the Jewish people draw upon in order to maintain their identity and prayer during times of horrific suffering, and how do such practices reflect the Jewish history and theology?

Film: Part 7 or Schindler’s List

Required Reading.
o Johnson, 423-514
o Each student will choose one of the assigned Wiesel texts for careful reading.
o Levine, Sugihara.

Week 12. For the kings of the earth belong to God; He is greatly exalted.
Zionism, the state of Israel, and the modern Diaspora.

Issues: What are the modern controversies surrounding the state of Israel? What are the sources of this controversy, whether religious or political? What are some ideas for conflict resolution? What are the major threats facing faithful Jewish life in the modern world?

Reading
o Johnson, 519-581.
o Katz, Tradition and Crisis.
o Herzel, The Jewish State
o One article on modern Jewish life in the USA/Europe, to be chosen personally by each student.

Week 13. Course Paper

Week 14. Final Examination

Psalm 47

For the director of music. Of the Sons of Korah. A psalm.

1 Clap your hands, all you nations; shout to God with cries of joy.
2 How awesome is the LORD Most High,  the great King over all the earth!
3 He subdued nations under us, peoples under our feet.
4 He chose our inheritance for us,  the pride of Jacob, whom he loved.  Selah
5 God has ascended amid shouts of joy, the LORD amid the sounding of trumpets.
6 Sing praises to God, sing praises; sing praises to our King, sing praises.
7 For God is the King of all the earth; sing to him a psalm of praise.
8 God reigns over the nations; God is seated on his holy throne.
9 The nobles of the nations assemble as the people of the God of Abraham, for the kings of the earth belong to God; he is greatly exalted.

Hebrews 11: At Home on the Frontier (Abraham, Calling, Vocation, Trust, Courage)

2006-09-12T07:03:00.000-07:00

October 2005
Mr. Stewart Everett
Marquand Chapel, Yale Divinity School

A year and a half ago, in May of last year, I loaded up my car and left. From New Haven, Connecticut I drove ten hours to Sandusky, Ohio where I stopped for the night. From Sandusky, Ohio, I again drove ten hours the next day to Worthington, Minnesota. Stopped. From Worthington, Minnesota I trucked twelve hours to Billings, Montana. Stopped again. And from Billings I drove the last two hours to Bozeman-my destination. All within three days. Although I had been to Montana many times before, this occasion was different. It was new. I was driving 2000 miles across the country. Something that I had not done before. I was going to be working and living on a ranch outside of Bozeman for the entire summer. It was a land I knew well, but one I had not known alone-which I was. For years, Montana’s ethos and rivers and mountains had cried out to me to come and take part. At least, for more than a week or two at a time. And so I went.

The Frontier. Many images come to mind: the 1800’s, covered wagons, wooden houses made of sticks and brown logs surrounded by miles and miles of grassland, open and spacious, horses, hunting game for supper, backwards intellect, and church going folks. Television shows like Bonanza and Little House on the Prairie also feed into the common notions that we have about the Frontier. We indeed are familiar with the pictures of cowboys riding off into the sunset and how difficulties can be overcome with the support of family and a little patience. But the stories of the Frontier are more often filled with tales of tragedy. Fear and lawlessness. Murder. Looting. Heartache….Loss. After Lewis and Clark made their exploratory journey West, Americans began to seek refuge from their present lives in the lands beyond the Mississippi. Such refuge came at a high price. As American expansion moved further west, conflict between new settlers and the Native American tribes increased as they fought over the rights and privileges of land and human decency. As Kathleen Norris says in her book Dakota: A Spiritual Geography, “The fact that one people’s frontier is usually another’s homeland has been mostly overlooked.” The Frontier was often not a pretty place.

There are two main definitions of Frontier. The first is of the very kind that I have been speaking of here, defined as a “typically shifting or advancing zone or region especially in North America that marks the successive limits of settlement and civilization.” The second definition regards Frontier simply as: “the farthermost limits of knowledge or achievement.” Frontier is that which is unknown to us, but yet that which we still seek.

This second meaning echoes in the words of the writer to the Hebrews in our passage for today. Here in chapter 11 we have the heroes in the “Faith Hall of Fame,” or the legends of the faith frontier. Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Moses, Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the prophets are all listed among what the writer refers to in Chapter 12 as the “great cloud of witnesses.” What a great phrase. But Abraham is the one who stands out here. He is the one that “obeyed when he was called” to journey towards a place which God would give to him. A frontier that was foreign. A place that he did not know the where’s or the who’s or the why’s until he arrived there…in Caanan. Although Abraham might’ve been sure about the Who, the where’s and the why’s actually didn’t get much better for him and Sarah. They still had to live in tents once they arrived in Canaan. On top of that, and as verse 11 reminds us, Abraham and Sarah were told that they were to have a child in their old age. This child was destined to live much the same life as well as his child after him, for they were all heirs of the same promise. Now here’s where the first definition of frontier slides into the second. Abraham’s physical journey to unknown Canaan acquires the furthermost limits of knowledge or achievement-in his case, the promises.

What is striking about this story in a nut-shell of Abraham comes to us in verse 13: “All of these died in faith WITHOUT having received the promises.” WITHOUT having received the promises. “But from a distance they saw and greeted them,” the writer to the Hebrews says. Abraham and his child Isaac and further descendents were open and accepting of God’s promise of a new land and a new people. And this was made possible through and by faith. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for,” chapter 11 begins. “The conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval.” By faith. The short phrase “by faith” is used 18 times in this chapter. Not only to speak of Abraham’s faith but to all the others in salvation history who responded to God’s voice when God said go. All the others who were strangers and foreigners “seeking a homeland.” Abraham and Sarah’s lives were disrupted from all that they had known-family, customs, beliefs. I’m sure more than once Abraham thought to himself, “Should we go back?” Hebrews tells us that ultimately they did not, for they desired the “better country.” They desired God’s country-even though they had no idea of what it would look like. Indeed, Abraham is set up as an exemplary model of faith. He believed in the promise of God, the “city”, the homeland, even when he was unable to see it. He believed in the God who was calling him to the unknown lands of the frontier.

Of course, another young fellow was called by God to set out for an unknown place. The Gospel of Luke reports in chapter 4 that after Jesus is rejected in Nazareth, he leaves, saying that “no prophet is accepted in his hometown.” He then travels to Capernaum, by lakeshores, other cities like Nain and Bethsaida, and up and down mountains to pray and eventually to Jerusalem. According to the Gospels, he never returns to Nazareth after leaving. No longer any place to permanently rest his head. Or have some security about where his next meal would be coming from. “I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose,” Jesus says. As the Gospels move along in their narratives, we see that Jesus began to understand himself in another light-in terms of his death. Thus, death was to be new territory for him-anxiety driven to say the least. Christ’s death was new territory for God, for the faith of those mentioned among the “great cloud of witnesses” were all contributing to and surely a part of the salvation history, which culminated in Christ’s death on the cross. Never had God been such a part of the events in the world. Never before had the frontier held such a new meaning. Such a new hope.

The Frontier. The unknown. The scary. The exciting. The timid. The restlessness. The weak. The strong. The incarnate. The calling. Yes, the calling. For it seems that God’s call to us and the Frontier go hand in hand. Even if we do not like to use the word “calling” or vocalize God’s presence in such a way, at the very least, it is about a sense of doing what we know to be right, like Abraham, even if there is no logic behind it whatsoever. Hebrews 11:15 says that “If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return.” That’s logic. Do what you know. Be comfortable where you are. Go back. Seek for yourself first. That’s logic. To seek unknown lands, lands totally out of our reach and range is definitely NOT the way to go.

But we know that not to be the case. And so I ask, “What is your frontier?” What unknown lands have you been prompted to seek? Is it a frontier of active social change, being in the line of fire, fighting for those who cannot fight for themselves? Is it stepping out to mend a broken relationship with a family member? Is it leaving a well paying job where all things were familiar and the money good to come to divinity school in order to serve the church or the academy? Is our frontier one in which we cannot name-as in the case of Abraham-but know that there is a reason? Some purpose? Some promise? Might our frontier be that of standing at the side of someone we love dearly who faces their own frontier? If anything is clear here in this passage of Hebrews, as well as the words of Jesus when he says to “Take up your cross and follow me,” it’s that we do not always know where God wants us to be or to go. And like Abraham, we may not know until we get there, wherever “there” may be. What is crucial to God is our faith to move towards frontier. To go. To take up the cross and follow. God requires movement. Inactivity doesn’t fly.

Again, writer Kathleen Norris says in Dakota that “the high plains, the beginning of the desert West, often act as a crucible for those who inhabit them. Like Jacob’s angel, the region requires that you wrestle with it before it bestows a blessing.” Like the West, as Norris describes it, our frontiers are those that are to be “wrestled with.” Decisions that we have to make in any given part of our lives are often very difficult. We have to think. We have to ponder. We have to doubt. As we strain to grapple with the person we are to be and with that in which we are to do. Like Abraham, we look at God’s promises from afar and greet them, and make the choice, by faith, to step out towards the frontier. For hopefully, whatever the frontier may be, we will come to know it as a “bestowed blessing,” as a place that “has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” Amen.

Mark 1: This is My Beloved Son, who Went into the Wildernss (Lent)

2006-09-12T06:59:00.000-07:00

April 2006
Fr. Lucas Grubbs
Christ Church
New Haven, Connecticut

Mark 1:9-13

And it came to pass in those days, that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee, and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him: And there came a voice from heaven, saying, You are my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. And immediately the spirit drove him into the wilderness. And he was there in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; but the angels ministered unto him.
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I ask you now, where is your Hell…without even blinking you can probably answer that question even faster than where do you find heaven. I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

Today’s Gospel reading from Mark is easily one of the most forgettable of all Gospel readings. At a mere five verses we run the risk of not even noting its subtlety, its power and its profound observation of who the evangelist is showing Jesus to be. We aren’t touched by a miraculous healing, nor are we challenged by the words of Christ, or the growling of John the Baptist as in other descriptions of the Baptism of our Lord. But listen now…as we see how the Spartan writings of Mark reveal a Christ who both is the “up” of the world, and also the “down”. A Christ who is above us and below, and a Christ who walks among us in every direction- How Jesus of Nazareth of Galilee demonstrates to us in a mere handful of versus a blueprint of the human condition, and what we are going to have to do about it if we have any hope for survival.
There is a term I am sure many of you are familiar with in religious imagery and architecture: It is that of the axis mundi. The axis mundi is that which visibly or invisibly connects heaven and earth. In Christianity, perhaps the most common of all axis mundis is the Cross of Christ. Firmly planted upon the Earth yet even in its bloody and agonizing purpose, soaring toward heaving and through its power becoming the perfect link that unites you and I to God in our earthly flesh. Christ himself is the living axis mundi, the man who is God robed in flesh. Here, in Mark’s statement, we are privy to an image of Christ who not only links heaven and earth, but who goes beyond both of them in order to show us how to live.

Here every single realm and state of creation opens up before our eyes, and we stand humbled by this majesty. First, Christ sets forth an example for us in humbling Himself to the earthly ministry of John the Baptist in his Baptism; Christ enters the waters of Baptism here to prefigure his going into the depths of Hell. God’s love is so great, so deep and wide that even the gates of death and Hell cannot triumph over him. If we understand our own Baptism as a dying unto sin when we enter the waters, it is because Christ has already gone before, to sanctify death, to stare it down, to empty out its growling and ugly mouth before it can overcome us with its power. In the waters of death and chaos, Christ becomes our new ark of Salvation; His going down into the waters give us a hint of what must come before. That is his death.

And so here in this brief passage from Mark, Christ has already pulled the rug out from underneath Satan and Hell. The depths of death have dropped out from underneath him in his Baptism and there would appear that there is only one way left to go- Up: And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Here is our axis mundi, here is the Christ who has gone into the depths and now, with the glorious opening of heaven, links both heaven and earth. But you see, because he has gone further in death, the axis mundi has grown much more complete. Not only are heaven and earth connected in Christ, but the depths of Hell and all the cosmos are laid open to his power and love. Nothing will escape the power of God in His Christ. One of the constantly reoccurring answers has been that Jesus indeed decended into Hell to redeem those who had been separated from God for whatever reason, be it in this life or the next. Indeed, we believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, he decended into Hell, the third day he rose again from the dead. Our Hell here perhaps, or the Hell beyond…no matter, God’s reach in love spans unto everywhere and eternity.

But lest we get too far ahead in the Gospel story, we must remind ourselves that this is just the beginning of Christ’s ministry. Jesus prefigures his death in Baptism, and his resurrection perhaps in the breaking open of heavens power on earth. But he does not go, no he does not yet go. What comes next in this very Gopel passage is this. “And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts.”

Ok, let us pause here for a moment. All this talk of supernatural heaven and hell is well and good. We are Christians and we as a church believe in Hell and hope for heaven. But what about now? We also have an Axis Mundi in Christ that not only fills Hell with Love, and soars to heaven in glory. Again our Axis Mundi is cruciform. The vertical up and down of Christ would not be complete with out the horizontal "X" axis of the arms of the cross and his arms of Love. What value in our lives would this story have if Christ did not go into the wilderness, the flat lands, the ordinary time of our lives? However you conceive of Hell, and whatever you hope for in heaven, these are of lesser importance to what we must ask now. What must we do now, we ask? How are we to live? We can and should draw great strength and inspiration from the cosmic power of Christ in both heaven and Hell, but unless we put this to the test here and now these become mere background stories. Now is the time we must take our part in this. Now is the time we must enter the wilderness with Christ, for fear not he has already gone before and walks with us always. The difficult work of redemption has already been done, but Christ still will not rest. No, he goes into the wilderness, our personal and savage wilderness, to be as intimately close to us as God was intimately close to humanity in Jesus.

I ask you now again, where is you own personal Hell? You know you know where it is without even having to think long and hard I’m sure. You probably know where your personal Hell is more quickly than you personal heaven. Our Hell on earth is caused by the storm winds of our sins and failings, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. Our Hell on earth might be caused by the sins of others rendered upon us. Sometimes the innocent suffer the effects of the Hell of others. And let’s be honest about it, sometimes there is no sense whatsoever of fairness in this. There are those among us today who are feeling the effects of sin and sorrow, no doubt about it. Perhaps even every single one of us. There are those in our very neighborhood who suffer for reasons we don’t always understand…how hunger and sickness and poverty can continue to exist even among the learned streets of downtown New haven, I think all of us are at a loss to explain. Lest we even mention the desperation of those beyond our borders.

But there again, we must know that because Christ descended into Hell to redeem its icy grip, and then continued and does continue and will continue to walk among us on this vertical plain of earth, therein lies our Call. Christ is our example, Christ is our hope, Christ is our help. This weary plain we now walk upon indeed resembles Hell from time to time. But take heart. Christ shows us that in love, and with God we might just be able to face this with grace, and help those in need as well. We walk the wilderness, horizontal axis of this world, but we do not do it alone. Christ is our Blueprint. Cling to him. Pray to him. Emulate his love in everything you do. In this, the difficulties we face, and the hells we experience are sanctified. And from him, and in him, we walk ever more closer to Resurrection, and heaven. Amen.

Mark 1: Prepare the Way of the Lord (Advent)

2006-09-12T06:57:00.000-07:00

December 2005
Mr. Wallace Marsh
Advent

Mark 1:1-8

The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. As it is written in Isaiah the prophet: "BEHOLD, I SEND MY MESSENGER AHEAD OF YOU, WHO WILL PREPARE YOUR WAY; THE VOICE OF ONE CRYING IN THE WILDERNESS, 'MAKE READY THE WAY OF THE LORD, MAKE HIS PATHS STRAIGHT.'" John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And all the country of Judea was going out to him, and all the people of Jerusalem; and they were being baptized by him in the Jordan River, confessing their sins. John was clothed with camel's hair and wore a leather belt around his waist, and his diet was locusts and wild honey. And he was preaching, and saying, "After me One is coming who is mightier than I, and I am not fit to stoop down and untie the thong of His sandals. "I baptized you with water; but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

____________________________

There is no fancy birth narrative,
no angels,
no dreams,
no Joseph and Mary,
and no stable.

All we have is a voice in the wilderness…
Prepare a way for the Lord.

This is how Mark begins his Gospel.

The day after Thanksgiving,
I found myself traveling into the wilderness
I went to the Appalachians to meet a close old friend for a day of hiking.

Our intentions were good,
but neither of us arrived at the park when we expected.

The reason for our delay…the traffic.

Both of us,
oblivious as we are,
didn’t take into account that in every city,
including small town America,
there was bumper to bumper traffic
because of Christmas shopping.

Suddenly I began to have visions about how the month will unfold.

I will finish up exams, and by the time I get home
Will have a few days to spontaneously
make last minute purchases
and get them under the tree.

Then and only then will I be reminded that once again
I have failed to “Prepare the way of the Lord.”

There seems to be a void.

Contemporary Culture proclaims Christmas
as a season to camp out in parking lots
for the latest and best buys,
and the gospel proclaims
a radically different message.

In the Church, the reason for the season
is the celebration of a birth of a child,
a child who ultimately gives his life
for the sake of our sins.

It is in the spirit of his gift,
the gospel,
that we should give.

I am not sure that an impulsive purchase,
or wrongly chosen sweater conveys the
gravity of Christ’s gift.

Throughout my day in the wilderness,
and on the long return trip home,
I wondered what Christmas would
look like if our (own) gifts were truly gifts.

And then it came to me…
A story I heard many years ago
preached from the pulpit by a former colleage.

The story is titled: A Christmas Story, and is written by the mother of this family. Here is what she writes…

It is just a small white envelope, stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so. And it all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties, and so forth, and reach for something special just for Mike.
The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Mike loved kids… all kids… and he knew them well And that’s when the idea for his Christmas gift came.

That afternoon, I (made a gift) anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I place an envelope on the tree, with a note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me.

His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year, and in all the years to come. Each Christmas thereafter, I followed the tradition: One year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game. And another year giving a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground a week before Christmas, and on and on. The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas.

It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their father lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

The envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn’t end there though. You see…we lost Mike to cancer last year. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree. And in the morning….it was joined by THREE MORE!!! Each of our boys, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their Dad.

The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further, with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers’ take down the envelope. My Friend’s, the spirit of Christmas is about the “good news” of Jesus Christ, our greatest gift. It is about Christ coming to us, saving us, and equipping us with the power to make his kingdom a reality here and now. During this season of Advent (a time of waiting), let us Prepare a way for the Lord, so that we may both receive and give in the spirit of Christ. AMEN.

Mark 6: What We Need in the Stormy Midnight (Fear, Doubt, Courage, Disciplehship, Faith, Trust)

2006-09-12T06:55:00.000-07:00

August 2006
St. Matthias Church
Dallas, Texas
Fr. Will Brown

Mark 6: "When evening came, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. About the fourth watch of the night he went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, because they all saw him and were terrified. Immediately he spoke to them and said, "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." 51Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed, for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened."

In last week's gospel lesson, we left the Apostles in a state of exhaustion. They had come back to the Lord from their mission among the people, and they had come back tired and hungry. And just when they think they've nothing left to give, the Lord reminds his hungry servants that they have still got five pieces of bread and two fish. And the Lord is able to turn a snack for twelve into a meal for five thousand. Jesus shows them that he is able to take their meagerness and turn it into life-giving abundance.

In today's gospel lesson, we see that the disciples didn't get it. They understand that Jesus has performed a miracle – the gospel of Mark up to this point is full of Jesus' undeniable miracles – but they don't understand the deep meaning – what CS Lewis called the "deep magic" – of the miracle. They don't get it. They seem unable to see the feeding of the five thousand as anything but a magical picnic. They can't get past the miracle's surface, to the Mystery of the poured-out substance of the Son of God that is the bedrock and the import, the significance, the real magic of the miracle.

And so Jesus performs another miracle. After sending the disciples away in the boat, Jesus goes up onto the mountain to pray. The disciples, perhaps, wondered how the Lord was going to join them. After all, they had taken the boat, the only boat, and its miles overland. And it's the middle of the night. How was Jesus going to reach them? And on top of that, a storm has arisen. So there are the disciples… struggling against the wind, battling the waves. And the passage says that "about the fourth watch of the night," just before dawn, Jesus "came to them, walking on the sea." Just like that. [Stop.] Oh, so that's how he's going to find us. Okay.

But once again, the disciples don't get it. They're terrified. They think Jesus is a ghost. There's a curious sentence in verse 48. It says Jesus "meant to pass by them." Why? Why did he mean to pass them by? I mean, they're in real trouble. I think this is a symbolic way for Mark to tell us that they don't recognize Jesus, and so Jesus is going to walk right past them as though they were strangers. Not only do the disciples not recognize Jesus as their friend and teacher, the guy they've been following around for some time now, but more than that – just as they hadn't recognized the deeper significance of the feeding of the five thousand, just as they hadn't seen the message of God's abundance underneath it… so also here, struggling in the boat, while they recognize something extraordinary is going on, they can't see the deep magic – the real miracle – underneath the surface. They can't see the mystical significance of what's really going on. They can't see the rootedness of this miracle in God's own being. Not only do they not understand that this is Jesus walking to them on the sea, but they don't even understand who Jesus is to begin with.

Seeing their fear, and hearing their cry, and once again, no doubt, having compassion, Jesus gives them a big hint. He says to them "Take heart, it is I; have no fear." This is a profoundly unfortunate translation. The Greek says: tharseite, ego eimi, meh phobeisthe. The middle phrase there, ego eimi, means "I am." It's the same phrase used in the Septuagint when on Mount Sinai Moses asks God to whom he is speaking. "Yes, hello? This is Moses, to whom am I speaking?" "I AM!!!" It's the same phrase here. Jesus is telling the disciples, and he is telling us, who he is. He's telling us that he is God. And as with much of the rest of the gospel teaching, its oblique; its indirect; its veiled under a layer of double-meaning and symbol. Why does Jesus do it like that? Why doesn't he just come out and explain things straightforwardly? Why can't he just say "Okay guys. Here's the deal. I am the only Son of God. I am the Eternal Word. I've come here to save you from your sins, and to give you a share in my infinite self," etc. Why doesn't he just do that? Why does he have to take five loaves and two fish and give thanks, and feed five thousand, and then walk on water and speak in parables and utter cryptic messages about who he is? I mean, this is important stuff! What if we miss it? What if we misunderstand it?

[NB: For one thing, he's packaging propositional truths about himself and his identity in life practices. I.e. he's giving a lebens form to himself, to make himself comestible, so to speak, to his disciples. If he just said "I am the Eternal Word. I am the only-begotten of God," that may seem at first to be direct and straightforward, but what really does that mean? What is an "eternal word"? What is it to be the "only-begotten of God"? He's mercifully wrapping all this stuff about himself in life practices, in things we can get hold of. He's giving us handles on himself. He's providing little points whereon we can attach ourselves to him. Etc. And that's also why we, in turn, don't just hold up a sign that says "John 3:16" and consider that to be enough. Instead, we do what he did. We wrap all these propositional truths about Jesus in life-practices. When we gather together, we don't just read true sentences about Jesus. We do do that, but that's not all we do. E.g. we also take bread, bless, break it, give it, eat it, etc. We walk around, we swing incense, we sprinkle water on ourselves, etc.]

The short answer is: ask Father Duncan. Just kidding. I think Jesus teaches this way for the same reason that "he meant to pass by" the disciples in the boat, when he came to them walking on the sea, in the darkness, in the chaos of the storm. He wants to provoke a response in them. And he wants to provoke a response in us. Because salvation won't work in our lives until we need it, until we need him, until we, like the disciples, are terrified and cry out in the tempestuous darkness of our lives. And its not that God is strict or tricky. To borrow another one of Jesus' symbols: salvation is like seed. God scatters it liberally, all over the place, near and far. But if it falls on concrete, it just won't take. There's nothing for it to latch on to. It can't take root and flourish. Rather, It has to fall on soil that is prepared to receive it, soil that has been broken-up and opened, so that the seed can enter in and take root. Just so, its not that our Lord is just withholding salvation by revealing himself in obscure symbols, but the deepness of his difficult self-revelation is gracious. It's a double mercy. The difficulty and the obscurity of it causes us to struggle to get at it, and our struggle to understand, our struggle to know who Jesus is showing himself to be, is the preparation of our hearts to receive the secret, the mystery of Who he really is, and the mystery of who we really are in him. In one stroke the seed is scattered and the soil prepared.

That is the process we see unfolding for the disciples in the Gospel of Mark. Their hearts are slowly being broken-up and opened to receive the fullness of the mystery of Who this Wonder-Worker really is, and of who he is calling us to be. At the end of today's gospel lesson we read "And they were utterly astounded, for they did not understand… but their hearts were hardened" (Mk. 6.52). Pretty soon in Mark there is a very noticeable shift in the narrative. Soon after chapter 8, Jesus will abandon all of his miracles and teaching ministry in Galilee; he will turn his face toward Jerusalem, and go there to suffer and die. And only then, on the other side of death and resurrection, will the pieces begin to fall into place for the disciples. Only then will they look back on all the miracles and obscure sayings of their Master and understand the Mystery of the Gift of the eternal Word, the Only-begotten Son of God, the secret of his very own substance poured out for them. Then they will look back and remember that hour before dawn, in the middle of a storm on a lake, when Jesus came to them walking on the water. Then they will understand not just that he walked on water and silenced the storm, but they will understand why. Because the disciples cry out to him, and because he is the Lord of the wind and the waves. Because the wind and the waves and the disciples themselves were brought into being through his power, and obey his voice. They will see who it really is that suffered and died: the Lord of all Creation, who was in the beginning with God.

And that's what we need in each of our stormy midnights. For here we are too: his disciples, storm-tossed, straining at the oars and reaching the point of exhaustion, surrounded in our lives by darkness and buffeted by the winds of chaos, or the waves of sickness, or family trouble, or difficulties at work, or financial trouble or loneliness – or menaced by sinful habits that we find loathsome but can't seem to change. How often do we feel trapped by this or that, struggling at the oars of our weakness, hemmed in by the rising tide, in danger of drowning. It is into this context that our Lord comes to us, piercing right through the turbulence and the darkness with his supernatural stride. And what attracts his attention is your cry for help, your recognition of the real danger posed to your soul by the darkness and temptation that surrounds you day by day. But thanks be to God that Jesus will not pass you by when you cry out to him in your heart, in prayer. He will come to you. And he will get into the buffeted, rocking boat of your life. The winds will cease. And he will begin to open your heart to the mystery of his life and his death in you, and to the true meaning of your life and your death in him. But let that mystery begin to unfold in your heart, or to unfold anew, today with his words: whatever your darkness, whatever winds of affliction beat against you, whatever waves of sinfulness threaten to pull you under: Take courage. Don't be afraid. I AM. AMEN.

Mary: Pledge of His Victory (Mary, Assumption, Mariology, Incarnation, Cross, Prayer)

2006-09-12T06:53:00.000-07:00

August 2006
St. Matthias Church
Dallas, Texas
Fr. Will Brown
On the Feast of the Assumption

Today we commemorate St. Mary the Virgin, the end of her life on earth, and the beginning of her life in heaven. In the Christian West, this celebration is usually called the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary because the tradition of the Church teaches that after Mary died, her soul as well as her body were “assumed” into heaven. The tradition of the Church teaches, in other words, that Mary has already experienced the resurrection of her Body; she has already experienced what all of those who love Christ are destined by him to experience at the end of time. But for Mary it has already happened. If Christ is the “firstborn from the dead” (Colossians 1.18), then Mary is the second-born – because she is the present inheritor of God’s promises to all those who have a share, through faith, in the deliverance of Christ Jesus. And as the present inheritor and heir of what has been promised to each of us at the end of time, Mary is an icon of our own selves – though not as we are now – sinful, subject to corruption, and struggling; making slow, painstaking progress in our lives of faith. Rather, Mary is presently an icon of what we will be, by the grace of God, in the future, at the end of time, when our perfection will be completed, even as hers has already been completed, when our deliverance from sin and death will be eternally sealed by the resurrection of our bodies, the loosing of the bonds of physical corruption and decay, to which we and everything in the material universe is presently subjected. As St. Paul says: the last enemy to be destroyed by Christ, is death itself (1 Corinthians 15.26). And when our Lord’s victory over death is sealed by the resurrection of our bodies, at Christ’s second coming, then – but not till then – we too will come into our inheritance – the inheritance of his glory, of divinity, of incorruptibility, and of life everlasting. Then we too will be crowned with glory and immortality, even as Mary has already been crowned (2 Timothy 4.8 & Rev. 12.1).

Mary is a pledge of the victory that Christ has won for us on the cross. Having already fully reaped the benefits of Christ’s passion, having had her redemption sealed in the resurrection of her body, she shows us the grace, the beauty, and the power of an intimate union with Jesus. She shows us our own destiny as children of God and as heirs with Christ of the promises of the Father: Mary shows us what it looks like to be a finite creature wrapped, by grace and faith and love, in God’s very own infinity.

Today we celebrate the receiving into heaven of her through whom Salvation Himself was given to God’s whole creation. The Lord of Life was alive inside of Mary for nine months! How then could she possibly have seen the grave? Or how could the darkness of death possibly have closed over her, when the Light that gives life to the whole world shone secretly and exclusively inside of her body for three trimesters? The Light of Life was carried by her, nourished by her… His own blood, His own divine life, was mingled with hers (John 6.51) in a way unknown to anyone before or since Mary. And even more: Mary was united to Christ as only a mother can be united to her son. She was united to him by the intensity of a mother’s love. When the Magi came to adore the newborn King, Mary saw them adoring her Son, her own baby. And when Jesus hung from the cross, there was one onlooker who saw hanging there something more than a victim of Roman justice, more than a Rabbi, more even than a friend or a master: there was one in the crowd, and only one, who looked at the man on the cross and saw her only Son broken and dying, her own little baby struggling for air. Why do salvation and redemption apply to Mary in a special way? Because she plumbed the depths of the suffering and death of Jesus as only a mother could. And we humans are exalted with him only by plumbing those depths… the depths of his suffering and death (2 Tim. 2.11).

But what difference does it make to you and me that Mary is so special? It makes a difference for two reasons. First, because it reveals something about Jesus. Mary is the Mother of God. But calling her the Mother of God is not so much saying something about her… its really saying something about him of whom she is the mother… its saying something about Jesus. Its saying that he is God. I’ve known plenty of Protestants and Evangelicals who are happy to call Mary the “mother of Jesus,” but can’t seem to bring themselves to call her the “Mother of God.” I want to ask them: what does it mean if Mary is the mother of Jesus, but not the mother of God? It can only mean one thing: that her Son isn’t God. Mary’s exaltation and glory in catholic doctrine and devotion is part and parcel of the greater exaltation and glory of her Son. If it weren’t for Jesus, Mary would just be an unknown Jewish girl from a backwater of the Roman Empire. Its no coincidence that one of the symbols associated with Mary in art and iconography is the moon, which gives off no light of its own, but only reflects the light of the sun. But in fact, it reflects the light of the sun so well, it is the second most luminous body in the heavens.

Mary’s greatness makes a difference first because her exaltation is a reflection of Christ’s greater exaltation. And the second reason her greatness makes a difference is an extension of the first: Mary’s exaltation makes a difference because she is an icon of ourselves. In looking at her, in contemplating her, we see something about ourselves, something about our own relationship with God, about who we are and about who we are called to be in relationship to Christ. Understanding Mary to be the Immaculate Virgin-Mother of God who even now participates intimately in Christ’s own redeeming work – this understanding is an affirmation of what is possible for us through him when we assent with Mary to God’s call to us, when we open our hearts to the overflow of his grace in our lives. When we venerate Mary for her assent to the call of God in her life, we are in some measure assenting to the call of God in our own lives, and we are affirming the gracious possibilities of our own vocations as children of God, as his servants and handmaidens; When we venerate Mary for her openness to the Holy Spirit of God, we are affirming the possibility of the power of the Holy Spirit working in and through us, enabling us to minister Christ to this broken world, through our assent to God’s call. When we say to God, with Mary, “Be it done to me according to thy Word,” then we become, with Mary, “full of grace” – filled with his grace – then the Light of Christ that is the Life of the world and the glory of God, begins to shine inside of us - then we become bearers of God in the person of Jesus Christ. His grace and his power begin to flow through us, his light begins to shine in us; he suffers himself to be brought by us to others in need of him, to be born of us, to a world groaning for salvation (cf. Te Deum – “thou didst not abhor the virgin’s womb”). Mary’s exaltation – and her ministry as intercessor and advocate – come from her intense love of her Crucified Son. And so it is with us. If we will be heirs of his glory and effective ministers of his gospel, we must be united with Mary in the love of Jesus Christ, her Son. If we are not united to him, we are like moons cut off from the light of the sun: we become cold, dark, and lifeless.

So join with Mary, in prayer. Appropriate her prayer: say to God with her confidence “Be it unto me according to thy Word.” Be united to her in the love of her Son. Contemplate the great mystery of the Incarnation of God through the loving eyes of Mary. Clutch Jesus tightly to your breast, as the Blessed mother clutched him to hers. Sit in prayer with Mary at Jesus’ feet; listen adoringly to his teaching. And most of all, join with Mary at the foot of the cross: enter with her into the agony of her Son. Let the wounds of his love afflict your soul as they afflicted hers. And know that when you love him as your own, then you become his own, then you also become the heir with Mary of the promises of Christ: of his victory, of his immortality, and of his ageless and unsurpassable glory. Amen.

Mark 6: He will take all you've got (Feeding of five thousand, Miracle, Service, Mission)

2006-09-12T06:52:00.000-07:00

July 2006
St. Matthias Church
Dallas, Texas
Fr. Will Brown

You have been formed by God and given his Spirit. The power of God in you is not meant to lie dormant.

Today’s gospel reading from Saint Mark recounts the return of the apostles to Jesus, after he had commissioned them and sent them out among the people, among whom they taught and healed in his name. In today’s gospel lesson they come back from their ministry, returning to Jesus who recognizes that they need a break. I imagine the apostles’ were both excited as well as exhausted – excited because they were just back from their first real mission, having taught among the people, and having healed many, I imagine them yet thrilled, still awed by the power the Lord had given them, with which they had been working miracles among the people.

But the apostles were tired. They needed a break. Jesus said to them “Come away by yourselves to a lonely place, and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat (Mrk. 6.31). And they get in the boat to go to some secluded spot on the shores of the sea of Galilee, to rest in the shade. But wouldn’t you know it? The crowds – the same crowds that had been coming and going, to whom the disciples had been ministering, among whom they had been teaching and healing, wearing themselves out – the crowds see our Lord and the apostles going, and they follow them. I’m sure this has happened to you before: you’ve been running around, managing one crisis after another, with kids or at work (or at church); you’re as busy as you’ve ever been, and just when you are about to have some time to yourself, to relax…. Up pops another big emergency that you absolutely have to tend to. It’s a terrible feeling. You’re drained. You’ve been going and going, and giving and giving, and you are worn out. And now there’s this…

As the apostles are going ashore, at the spot they had picked out to get away from the “great throng” and get some rest, what do they see but… once again, the “great throng.” The same crowds among whom they had been ministering, wearing themselves out, had followed them to their weekend retreat. And rather than sending them away, Jesus has compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd (Mrk. 6.34). How the hearts of the apostles must have sank! Jesus is always having compassion on these people! And rather than sitting back, sipping margaritas in the shade, Jesus and the apostles spend the rest of the day with the crowds, teaching and working. And it gets late. They’ve had nothing to eat and they are absolutely exhausted. The apostles come to the Lord and say “Send them away! Its late. They’re tired and hungry. We’re tired and hungry. And there’s nothing to eat out here.” And what does Jesus say? “You give them something to eat” (Mrk. 6.37). “You have GOT to be kidding, Master.”

Enough is enough. They have given everything they have to give and now the Lord is asking them to do the physically impossible. One of them asks “Shall we go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread and give it to them to eat?” A deniarii was a day’s wage. Two hundred days’ wages would buy a lot of bread. But they hadn’t taken any money with them anyway. Jesus had told them to leave it behind (Mrk. 6.8), and now he’s telling them to feed five thousand people! With what?! “Shall we go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread…?” This question is dripping with sarcasm… sarcasm born of exhaustion, hunger, and most of all frustration with Jesus. Its like saying “Right, Lord. Let me just reach into my toga and pull out that six tons of spaghetti I always carry around with me.”

But Jesus, understands what the disciples don’t: that they can do the impossible through the power their Lord had given them. . . With God, all things are possible. And the disciples were with God. Jesus understands this. And he tells them to go see what kind of food they’ve got. They come back and report. They have five pieces of bread and two fish. For five thousand people. We know what happens next. But pay attention to verse 41, towards the end of the passage. It says “And taking the five loaves and the two fish Jesus looked up to heaven, and blessed, and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples to set before the people… And they all ate and were satisfied.”

Jesus didn’t demand from the disciples what they didn’t have. Its true, he did tell them to do the impossible, but that’s not the same thing. He did not demand from them what they didn’t have. Jesus asked from the disciples only what they had, five loaves and two fish… he took it from them, and then gave it back to them changed. This is what Christian priesthood means, and this is what the mass is all about: Jesus takes what we offer to him and he gives it back to us changed. And this is what the Christian life means: Jesus asks from us what we have, we give it to him, and he gives it back to us changed. That’s why he says unless you forsake everything, you can’t be his disciple. He only asks for what you haven, but he asks for everything you have. That’s why he says if you want to be his disciple, you have to take up your cross and follow him… because the cross is a symbol of laying everything down, of pouring everything out, of draining the dregs, and of giving up your life to him. But then you get it back, and its not the same as it was before. Its changed.

Now this isn’t easy for us. It requires trust. Remember the disciples were hungry, and Jesus was about to take from them the only food that they had, and give it away. But they trust him anyway. He’s worked miracles before, and he’s never let them down. They give him everything they’ve got, and in Jesus’ hands, and then in theirs, its more than enough. Verse 43 says after everyone had eaten all they wanted, they went around and “took up twelve baskets full of” leftovers.

Jesus never asks us for more than we’ve got. He asks for everything we’ve got, but not more. And like the apostles, we too have an impossible mission: the Lord has asked us to save the world. Jesus looks at the world we live in, at the multitudes of people wandering aimlessly, indulgently, cluelessly; He sees a world full of drunkards, couch potatoes, insolent children, abusive parents and spouses, a world full of addiction and violence, manipulation, unbelief, greed and lust and corruption and blasphemy; our Lord looks at a world full of darkness and depravity, full of lost souls… and he has compassion. Then he turns to you and he says “You give them something to eat.”

At bottom, our godless society is hungry. And it is hungry because it is godless. But thanks be to God, the Lord Jesus has taken, and continues to take, our ordinary substance and he changes it. He gives it back to us charged with his own divinity. He takes our bread and wine and gives us back his body and blood. And bread and wine are not all we offer him in the Eucharist. Remember: he asks for everything. And so we offer and present unto him our very selves, our souls and bodies. And he gives us our selves back… changed, charged with his own divinity. And then he sends us out to serve him in our world, in our own daily contexts and social networks, where many of our coworkers and friends and loved ones are living in darkness, wandering around hungry, like sheep without a shepherd.

You give them something to eat. Give them what the Lord has given you – because he’s given it to you to give to them. . . His own body as food, his own blood as drink. He’s given you the gift of his own life, an eternal life, no longer darkened, sin-stained and aimless. And he’s commanded you to give it to others. That’s the essence of your mission in the world; that’s the core of your vocation as disciples of Jesus: to set before others what he has given to you: a life enlightened with the uncreated light, a life no longer constrained by sin, no longer bound by death. The crowd of five thousand has become, in our day, a crowd of five billion. A very great throng indeed. “You give them something to eat.” To be sure, the Lord asks of you everything you have, everything that you are. But he gives it back transformed, so that you can go out and do the impossible. Offer him the sacrifice he asks: your own life, your own broken and contrite heart. Then receive back from him your changed self, and go in peace, abiding in his divine love, to serve him in this broken world. Amen.

Mark 1: The Exemplary Baptism of God (Baptism, John, Blindness, Service, Gospel)

2006-09-12T06:48:00.000-07:00

January 2006
The Episcopal Church at Yale

The Baptism of Jesus
Mark 1

"One day Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee, and he was baptized by John in the Jordan River. And when Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the heavens split open and the Holy Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven saying, "You are my beloved Son, and I am fully pleased with you."

Today, the first Sunday after the feast of the Epiphany, we celebrate the Baptism of the Lord Jesus at the hands of St. John Baptist. Fittingly (given than this celebration falls within the season of Epiphany), the Baptism of Jesus is a part of his manifestation. And in digesting the story of Jesus’ Baptism, in meditating on it, hopefully, something about him and about our life in him, will be manifested to us.

In today’s lection from Mark’s gospel, we read John’s words concerning Jesus and the contrasting natures of their respective ministries. John says “I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit” (Mrk. 1.8). This represents the fact that repentance precedes holiness, and that in the economy of salvation, the prerogatives of the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity, are gifts only to those who have been initiated, through the water of Baptism, into the sacred mystery of the death and resurrection of the second person of the Trinity, the Lord Jesus, the only Son of the Father, the first person of the Trinity, who sent him to save us.

But wait. Just before the gospel reading for today, in verse 4 of the first chapter of Mark we read that the baptism of John was a “baptism of repentance for the remission of sin.” And yet Jesus is supposed to be without sin. In Hebrews (4.15) it says explicitly that Jesus was tempted in every respect as we are, yet was without sin. Why then was he baptized, if John’s baptism was “of repentance, for the forgiveness of sins”? The answer is appropriate to the season of Epiphany: Jesus was baptized to manifest something to us (cf. John 1.31). First, because we are to be imitators of him, he manifests that we are to be baptized with the baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins – with the same baptism, in other words, with which he himself is baptized. Because, unlike Jesus, God knows we can use a bath. Particularly if it washes sins away. Secondly, Jesus baptism reveals to us who he is. “And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’”(Mrk. 1.10-11). This isn’t news to Jesus. Remember, in the words of the opening of St. John’s gospel, Jesus was “in the beginning with God.” He knows who he is. But the descent of the Spirit on him and the voice from heaven at his baptism are for our benefit. So that we may know in clear terms that we are not dealing with an ordinary person, and that because he is no ordinary person, he can help us. He is not just another prophet like Moses, or Elijah or John Baptist. He may be a prophet, but he is not JUST a prophet: he is in fact the Beloved of the Father, the only son of the Father, upon whom rests the Holy Spirit of God. At Jesus baptism, he is manifested to be from God and to be God.

Jesus is revealed to us to be him of whom Isaiah prophesied in today’s OT reading:

“Thus says God the Lord, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it: [here is what he says] I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.”

We are the blind. We are those whose eyes are opened only by the light of Christ. We are the Nations, the Gentiles, with whom God did NOT make a covenant, as he did with Israel, but upon whom the dayspring has nevertheless dawned (cf. Luke 1.78-79), because of Christ’s epiphany to us, the Gentiles hitherto languishing in darkness. Thus St. Paul says (Galatians 3.28) that in Christ the distinction between Jew and Gentile is eliminated, for salvation, in the person of Jesus, has been manifested to all. That is good news. We are no longer left in the dark prison of our sin and sinfulness: but Christ has been revealed to us, and his Epiphany is one of light and freedom. For Christ, as Isaiah says, is given to us as a covenant, to bring us out of the prison where we sat in darkness. Christ not only shows us what we must do (that is, we must come out of our darkness and bondage to sin), but he does it for us. By dying, by entering our darkest darkness and our tightest bondage, and rising again to the light of eternal life. That is the nature of the love of God manifested to us Christ Jesus. (Jesus) shares with us his own kinship with God: that is, he makes us heirs of God’s Kingdom, because he is the heir of God’s kingdom and he is one of us. He turns us into a mystical family, whose bonds are more tightly knit than those of biology. In Christ, and only in Christ, God becomes our Father, Jesus becomes our brother, and we become brothers and sisters of one another. We are God’s own people. And as his sons and daughters, sharing in his own holiness, we are empowered and commanded to proclaim his mighty acts in calling [us] out of darkness into his marvelous light.

Thus, do not be ashamed of the gospel. Bring a friend to Church. And, better yet, serve the poor. As many non-Christians as there are around us at Yale and in New Haven, there are many, many more people who do not have the means to eat or to keep warm. You see them every day. This semester at ECY we will have a number of opportunities to serve the poor, feed the hungry, and warm those who are cold. Do it. And by all means, bring a friend. And always remember why. You serve others because you have been served. You have been served by the salvation of God, the babe in the manger who grew into the man baptized by John, and after that to the Man on the cross- to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.