The Sunday called Sexagesima, 2018

(Genesis 3)
2 Corinthians 11:19-31
Luke 8:4-15

“Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” (Genesis 3:17-19)

So we read this morning at Mattins.

According to “COMMON PRAYER: A Commentary on the Prayer Book Lectionary”, the Sundays of Septuagesima are about the cultivation of Virtue. Temperance and Justice were addressed last Sunday; Prudence, and Fortitude this Sunday, and next Sunday, the last before Ash Wednesday, is given over to Love.

The Four “Cardinal Virtues” of Temperance, Justice, Prudence, and Fortitude were first enumerated by Plato, and elaborated by other ancients, including the Book of Wisdom. The Theological Virtues of Faith, Hope, and Love were first described by Saint Paul. What distinguishes these two classes of Virtues? The first four “Moral” virtues, “may, as natural virtues, be acquired by our own efforts,” by practicing them until they become a habitual disposition. The latter three place us in relation with the Trinity and are called “infused; that is, poured into our souls, because they are strictly gifts of God.”

In our Epistle today, Paul is contrasting himself with what he calls “Super Apostles” who have recently been to Corinth - they seem to have advertised themselves based on their Jewish pedigree, their wonder-working, and their authoritarian demeanor. (The Authorized Version translation makes this passage difficult because of Paul’s use of sarcasm.) He compares and contrasts his own credentials with theirs: “If these are the things that matter to you,” he says to the Corinthians, “well, then, I exceed these teachers on every front: and furthermore I exceed them in what I’ve suffered to spread the Gospel. All the glamour doesn’t matter: “If I must needs glory, I will glory of the things which concern mine infirmities.” Paul exemplifies the virtue of Fortitude in the midst of his sufferings; and faults the Corinthians for a lack of Prudence: of being able to distinguish between Virtue and Vice, between his true Fortitude and the Pride of the “Super Apostles.”

The Gospel today is interesting. As Fr. Robert Capon points out, we tend to think it surprising that Jesus has to explain this parable, since the meaning is so obvious, and yet, it is perhaps less obvious even to us than we think, and no more so than to his original listeners. We might hear the parable something along these lines, “The seed is Christian preaching, which everyone needs to hear; but only in those who act uprightly, who are Virtuous, will it operate.” Fr. Capon sees in this parable something far less comfortable to us - and yet far more comforting. If we follow the premise of allowing the Bible to interpret itself, the seed can be nothing but Jesus himself. “The seed is the Word of God.” Saint John says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Speaking of the “Hour when the Son of man should be glorified,” John quotes Jesus as saying, “Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” So the seed is Jesus, and he is sown to all conditions of life. And what is the purpose of seed? To fall to the ground and die. No matter what the conditions that receive the seed, its purpose will be fulfilled. What of the birds that ate the seed off the road? “And the fowls of the air devoured it”- The devil thought at the Crucifixion that he had won - but that was the fulfilling, not the frustration, of God’s purpose. When birds eat seeds, the seeds pass through them and spread further - and bring about more growth than if the seeds had only fallen. “And some fell upon a rock, and as soon as it was sprung up, it withered away, because it lacked moisture.” And yet the withered plant then turns to soil, and subsequent moisture can now be retained. Among the thorns, “The thorns sprang up with it, and choked it” - choked it, yes, preventing “perfect fruit”, but not preventing its growth entirely. And one who sees the potentially fruitful growth among the thorns might well be inspired to then clear them away. And finally, the “good ground,” where the seed may bring forth fruit an hundredfold.

The Gospel doesn’t allow us to sit smugly knowing that we are good, and thus the seed is only effective in us, like Paul’s “Super Apostles.” The seed is everywhere, and it is effective everywhere, because that is God’s purpose and it does not depend upon us. All that we have to do is to cooperate or not. If we do - we will enjoy the fruit that springs up an hundredfold. If we do not, its purpose will be effected anyway.

This brings us back to the curse of the fall. We are no longer in the garden - and yet, the ground itself still gives its natural fruit through the sun and rain and seed that God distributes. And God distributes his graces to all humanity as well, that the fruit on coinhering with him and with each other may be brought to perfection. No effort of ours may cause or prevent this. But we can work with it by rooting out the thorns as best we can; and tilling with the cultivation of Virtue. We may practice the Fortitude of enduring the “times of temptation,” and the “cares, and riches, and pleasures of this life,” and Prudence of knowing that even so, we are not – in success – causing or earning or, – in failure – preventing or frustrating God’s gifts to us — that our heart may be made “good ground” for God to work through in us.

The Second Sunday after the Epiphany

Romans 12:6-16
John 2:1-11

Here on the Second Sunday, we finally have the last of the “Three Miracles” that the Feast of the Epiphany celebrated. I cannot say why the church postponed it past last Sunday and until today! We continue in the spirit of the feast, showing the various ways that Christ is revealed in the world.
Why does Christ need to be manifested? As Psalm 19 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God : and the firmament sheweth his handywork.” This, however, is God as seen in his works; Christ reveals God as he is. The text says that this first miracle at Cana “manifested forth his glory.” - but how? No one even noticed but the servants and his mother.

One of the first things that I noticed was the apparent disconnect in the conversation with his mother.

The mother of Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come. His mother saith unto the servants, Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it.

He seems to be rebuking her, and yet he answers her request. George McDonald suggests that this indicates that his mother, – like most of his followers and like far too many of us! – was looking for a Big Reveal, a spectacle to leave no doubt that the new Solomon was arisen to free them from the Romans. But that isn’t what Christ was, nor what he reveals about God. He fulfills the request for wine – that part was reasonable – but as a sign of the kingdom. The operations of God come in hidden ways, unnoticed if no attention is payed.  And so he converts the water into wine. This was one of the two miracles Christ performed where he brought something out of nothing - the other being the division of loaves and fishes for the five thousand.  Bread and Wine, as in the Eucharist. Psalm 104, says that God brings forth “wine that maketh glad the heart of man ... and bread to strengthen mans heart.”
In both of these miracles, note that no one saw the multiplication occur. They only experienced the results. There were 5 loaves and two fish - but they didn’t multiply in place, spilling off the table like the contents of Belatrix LeStrange’s vault in Harry Potter. They simply, and imperceptibly, didn’t run out. The water in the waterpots didn’t flash and smoke, it simply was wine, by the time it was borne to the governour of the feast.
The second thing to note, is the extravagance of this miracle. With many of Jesus’ miracles, including the feeding of the five thousand, he was satisfying a need. In this miracle, it satisfied only a want – and perhaps one that not everyone had even noticed yet. They didn’t need wine.  No question of if they deserved it, no question of if it was good for them.  The governour of the feast even implies that most of the guests are probably too drunk to even appreciate that this best wine only came out now.
This is the nature of the Kingdom of Heaven. The best wine is given to all - those who drank to fast at the start, those who paced themselves throughout the feast, and those who were abstaining. It comes as a gift, with no conditions. How appropriate was Psalm 36 at Mattins this morning, as we chanted, “They shall be satisfied with the plenteousness of thy house : and thou shalt give them drink of thy pleasures, as out of the river. For with thee is the well of life!”
One final point perhaps worth investigating is that the wine was supplied from the water-pots whose purpose was ritual washing. The connection to Baptism must at least be remarked.

At Christmas, Christ, the Sun of Righteousness, was said to come “forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber.” And as Paul elaborates, Christ is the bridegroom to his bride, the church. With such proximity to Christmas, we must ask then what the connection is between this wedding and our own union with Christ.  To Dr. Robert Crouse I owe the insight that throughout Epiphany, the Gospels show the divine life manifested is Christ, as the Epistles show the same manifested in us. Paul lists many gifts that any of us may have. As Christ with the wine, we are called to give of these gifts: without fanfare, but abundantly. Not asking who deserves, that doesn’t matter. Are we able to supply a want? And we needn’t be be concerned to do extra in order to for our gifts to partake of the kingdom. We may find that God manifests his glory in our gifts, without anyone even knowing “whence it comes.”

Whitsunday in Fangorn

(Moved over belated from being posted on Facebook...)

I love it when independent cycles reinforce meaning for one another.
Yesterday’s Reading from The Lord of the Rings, beginning at the 5th chapter of the 3rd book, contained,
“It was not in vain that the young hobbits came with us, if only for Boromir’s sake. But that is not the only part they have to play. They were brought to Fangorn, and their coming was like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains... A thing is about to happen which has not happened since the Elder Days: the Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong.”

How relevant to Whitsunday! I have been speculating as to the “meaning” of Hobbits, though I don't mean to imply anything so overt as allegory, which Tolkien detested. But in many ways they do seem to be in a sense the operation of the Holy Ghost in the story. They seem to exemplify the Third Theme of Illuvatar, which “seemed at first soft and sweet, a mere rippling of gentle sounds in delicate melodies; but it could not be quenched, and it took to itself power and profundity... It was deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came... And [Melkor’s theme] essayed to drown the other music by the violence of its voice, but it seemed that its most triumphant notes were taken by the other and woven into its own solemn pattern.”
The loud brash note of the capture of Merry and Pippin in fact only bore them to Fangorn where they tipped the scales of motivating the Ents. “The Ents are going to wake up, and find that they are strong.” - and today we invoke the “Comfortor” - which word in its oldest sense means “strengthener.”
That first Whitsun was a turning of the tide for the disciples, when they woke up, and found that they were strong - and the good news went out then to spread over the entire world.
This Whitsuntide, may we also allow ourselves to be comforted - to find out we are strong, and through off the tide of evil that may be attempting to assail us and ours. Whatever that evil may yet attempt, may it find that “this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which [it] hath not imagined.”

The subordination of Omnipotence

It has been one of those weeks were a number of disparate references touching upon similar themes have presented themselves to me in passing, and so it would seem to be my obligation to Providence to offer some comment on them.

Last week (or the week before?) I read a blog post advocating ‘communion on the tongue’ as opposed to ‘communion in the hand.’  Now, it is known that communion in the hand was at least practiced, if not the norm, in the early church; but communion on the tongue came to be the norm at least by the middle ages. I myself prefer on the tongue, primarily because to me it presents a weird and incongruous symbol to have the priest be careful of crumbs, and wash his hands after handling the bread - but to deny laity the same opportunity.  This blog post I read, however, went much further, advocating forbidding communion in the hand (and, furthermore, forbidding communion to those who hadn’t previously proved themselves to the priest) in an effort to prevent Sacrilege.  According to this individual, consecrated hosts are routinely sneaked out of Roman parishes in order to be used in black magic or desecrated by atheist college professors.

About the same time, I’d been reading “Many Dimensions” by Charles Williams.  The premise of the book is that the crown of King Solomon was purchased by an evil British scientist, and he was experimenting with the Stone it contained, in an effort to profit from it.  Although he never explicitly connects the Stone of Solomon to the consecrated bread of the Eucharist, he does describe it metaphysically in ways that imply that it is a manifestation of The Word.  One property of the Stone is that it can be divided without being diminished (like the Bread of Life!)  The main character ended up with one of the “types” of the stone, and was one of the few people not trying to use it.  One night someone broke into her house to steal it, and she was torn whether or not to finally “use” the stone.
“She was protecting it. Not being a reader of religious history Chloe was ignorant what things have been done in the strength of that plea, or with what passionate anxiety men have struggled to protect the subordination of Omnipotence. But in her despair she rejected what churches and kings and prelates have not rejected; she refused to be deceived, she refused to attempt to be helpful to the God...”
With what passionate anxiety men have struggled to protect the subordination of Omnipotence!
God made flesh, and eternally present in the Bread in wine - Ever broken but never divided - does not need our help!  This is not to say we should be casual with consecrated bread - but the reason is for our sakes, not his.  Just like a grudge or hate, sacrilege does not harm its object in anyway: it only harms the subject - or rather, gives exposure to the sickness already present.  Once upon a time, the Book of Common Prayer required the reading of certain Exhortations with greater or lesser frequency warning people to examine their motives - not to protect God, but to protect themselves from spiritual damage.


Today, many in the United States are looking to a couple courts for a ruling on same-sex marriage.  Those opposed, it seems to me, are also concerned about protecting the subordination of Omnipotence.
There's much talk about the “institution” of marriage, and it’s sacred nature.  It seems to me that marriage has moved in and out of institution during the past 3 thousand years depending on the priorities of various societies.  It certainly wasn’t an institution in the early middle ages, perhaps a ‘custom’ would be more accurate.
Jesus doesn’t seem to be ‘pro’ or ‘anti’ marriage, it’s simply a thing that exists. He goes to wedding feasts, but points out that in the Life of the World to Come, we are neither married nor given in marriage.  Paul the Apostle has no problem with marriage, but doesn’t encourage it: it’s just one more part of this passing world.
There is one Marriage in the new testament that is Instituted and Sacred beyond all doubt: and that Marriage is between the Lamb that was Slain, and his Bride, the New Hierusalem.  In my daily lectionary right now, I’m coming up toward the end of John. Just yesterday, during his farewell discourse, Jesus described Love: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”  God laid down his life for his bride, for us.  “Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.” “This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you.”

This is The Marriage. This lasts beyond death, world without end. And nothing humans can do can touch this.

But what we can do, is participate in it. We can be about our father’s business by loving as he loved us.  For many, this is best rehearsed, as in a laboratory, with one other person, so that those two in turn can better take and share that love to all they come in contact with.  That particular agreement to be safe, to trust, to not give up - just as God does not give up on his people, no matter how they stray.  This love is what we are called to as Christians.  Earthly marriage is a means to facilitate that, but it is no end in itself.  Married or unmarried, Christians are called out of themselves, to give themselves fully to others, and in doing so both to open themselves to God’s love, and thereby draw water from that well which never runs dry and which makes glad the city of God.  Et omnes ad quos pervenit aqua ista salvi facti sunt!

But - that the civil order should facilitate this purpose is challenged by some right now.  To quote an early 20th C. liturgical book I was reading, “These modern Manichees, consisting as they do partly of fanatics, and partly of remorseful sinners who, having for a long time failed to govern themselves and keep within the bounds of decency and reason, are now determined to govern the rest of mankind which never had any inclination to transgress.”  Those who would assert that they are for “Family values” or ”tradition” seem frequently to oppose the very Life in Christ that I have above described.  They do not lay down their lives for their children or parents - those ‘natural affections’ that arise from blood - but instead kick out the children who are gay, and send mom and dad to ‘the home.’  They don’t lay down their lives for ‘the least of these’, but rather assert that those are getting what they deserve.  Again turning to Charles Williams, this time in “Descent into Hell”:
“... don’t you know how quiet the streets of Gomorrah are? haven’t you seen the pools that everlastingly reflect the faces of those who walk with their own phantasms, but the phantasms aren’t reflected, and can’t be.  The lovers of Gomorrah are quite contented, Periel; they don’t have to put up with our difficulties.  They aren’t bothered by alteration, at least till the rain of the fire of the Glory at the end, for they lose the capacity for change, except for the fear of hell.  They’re monogamous enough! and they’ve no children- no cherubim breaking into being or babies as tiresome as ours; there’s no birth there, and only the second death.  There’s no distinction between lover and beloved; they beget themselves on their adoration of themselves, and they live and feed and starve on themselves, and by themselves too, for creation, as my predecessor said, is the mercy of God, and they won’t have the facts of creation... When all’s said and done, there’s only Zion or Gomorrah.”
In a great irony, when searching for this quote, I turned up several “fundamentalists” blogs or posts using this as if he were talking about gay people!  But it is exactly that they have turned within, and do not wish to be confronted with the “other” that is in fact God, and to have to exist in relationship and communion with them that makes them the subject of this description, and not the gays.  Those of us for marriage equality are precisely trying to counter this: We attempt (haltingly, but by God’s grace better every day!) to Love one another as Christ loved us, to see in other faces God’s own; to lay down our lives to create a safe place for another to in turn find that they are loved of God so that they too may love.

The Fourth Sunday in Lent

Rejoice ye in Hierusalem; and be glad for her, all ye that delight in her.
Galatians iv.
St. John vj.

Here we are, in the midst of Lent.  Six weeks ago, we buried “The Lord’s Song” (Ps. 137) and entered the exile of Babylon.  On Ash Wednesday, the English church remembers the expulsion of our first parents from Eden.  But while this is often and rightly understood to be a time to mourn our sins which brought us to this place, and to do penance, it is also a time to reflect without distraction about where we have come from, and where we are going.  We fast not to deprive ourselves of what we need, but of what we don’t need, adopting once more the diet of Eden.  As we’ve been singing at Mattins the past week,
“2. Thus Moses dear to God became, / And fitly did the law proclaim:
Thus heav’nward was Elias raised,  / On steeds of fire, and wheels that blazed.

3. Thus Daniel mysteries beheld,  / And rage of fiercest lions quell’d:
Thus, as the Bridegroom’s friend, alone / Is John in holy lore made known. ”

And now we aim for a return.  A return to Eden, to the Promised Land, to Hierusalem.  But what is the nature of our return? Is it back to the status quo, back to how things were?  Or is it “back” to how things should be?

And so Paul asks us, do we wish to be children of the Hierusalem “which is above” or of the earthly Hierusalem? What is the difference between them?

I think that the difference is primarily one of disposition.  The verse of the Office was from Psalm 122: “I was glad when they said unto me * We will go into the house of the Lord.”  To “Go into the house of the Lord” has been interpreted by our forebears as meaning to be in that place called in “folk psychology” “right-brained”:  Being in the present, and apprehending intuitively the “deeper” or “bigger” picture.  The child of the Heavenly Hierusalem, we read, is born “after the Spirit:”  just as we discussed last night in regards to chanting the psalms and using the spirit, or breath, to help bring ourselves into the House of the Lord, the better to hear his scriptures.

So how does the gospel today exemplify this heavenly Hierusalem? At first glance, it seems unrelated: it takes place “over the sea of Galilee.”  But I think that it is showing us an example of the disciples themselves being divided between the Heavenly and Earthly Hierusalems.  They, like us, “in the midst of life are in death” as we sang at Compline.  They are in the exile of the earthly, seeking the heavenly.
The people hunger, and the disciples note that they have no bread.  They are like baren Sarah, who didn’t yet believe the promise; but they, like Sarah, in spite of their doubt, do what they are told.  Jesus took the bread that was procured, blessed it, and gave it to the disciples.  So far, nothing remarkable.  The disciples distributed it to the people.  Also, unremarkable: but wait! The people were filled, and twelve baskets remained! At what point did this happen?  This is a foretaste of the Hierusalem above.  Rejoice ye in Hierusalem; and be glad for her, all ye that delight in her.

This is the economy of the Hierusalem which is above: an economy of abundance.  Unlike the earthly Hierusalem where we live our day-to-day lives, it is through giving up, sacrifice, and yielding that enough, and more! is found.  But, through grasping and hording, one looses even what was has.  This is emphasized again and again in scriptures... Cast your bread upon the water.  Ho, ever one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come ye, buy, and eat - yea, come, buy wine without money and without price.  We read last night that Joseph’s brothers went to Egypt to by grain, and came home with grain - and with their money also!  This is the way that the children of freedom, the children of the promise, the children of heaven live.
And so, during Lent, we practice this heavenly way.  A diet of less - that is more than enough.  We give alms not to punish ourselves but because God freely gives, and in giving we open ourselves to his gift.  And we can take comfort in knowing that, like the disciples, we don’t have to understand, and we can be full of doubt. But if we have faith only the size of a mustard seed, if we take the bread he gives us and distribute, we will find that all have been filled, and more.

Neither confounding the persons nor dividing the substance.

I'm reading right now about the drawing of figures (specifically in the context of icons, but the principles apply more broadly) in Aidan Hart's "Techniques of Icon and Wall Painting."  His first principle he bases on the line from the Athanasian Creed: "Neither confounding the persons nor dividing the substance:" There is no unity without distinction, and no distinction without relationship. Although on the one hand this is obvious, on the other it really struck me! That's often how obvious things are, huh?  Isn't this a statement so much more broadly applicable than in simply portraying a believable form? It's necessary in relationships: if you confound the persons, you end up codependent, unable to "think for yourself", and manipulated. If you divide the substance, you end up cruel and selfis h. Healthy society requires individuals in relationship with each other. (And it's almost as though our two political parties have each selected a half to goof up! Liberals confound the person: "We're all the same! Everything's equal! Whatever I like is true - and so is whatever you like!" while conservatives divide the substance: "I've got mine, I don't owe you anything! Take the country back from the 'other' in our midst!" ) I've seen similar "faults" in music - although I wouldn't have thought to phrase it this way: People can become so concerned with not "confounding" the notes, that they totally "divide" the sense: All of a sudden you have a stulted series of pitches and syllables rather than a framework of melody carrying meaning.

His second principle is to understand the form and allow the brush to follow - which seems to only elaborate the first one. Again, in singing, if you step back and see the entire line of text, the entire line of melody, where it's going, and what it's doing, the details, really, take care of themselves. If you look only at "1 & 2 e & a" reading words perfunctorily while lunging after notes - you don't get music! When playing tuba, one of my first breakthroughs was when I realized (much like Professor Hill's "think method!") that hearing the pitch I was about to play in my Mind's Ear was infinitely more important that attempting to squeeze my lips right.

Later, while describing hands, he states, "When deciding precisely where to place each hand, keep in mind that whenever we create and place a form we are also changing the shape of the space in which it is placed...Also, like everything else in the icon, hands and arms need to relate to the things near them..." Again, this flows from the first principle, has universal applicability, and is particularly striking in how often it is forgotten. A particular fault of a sort of Middle Manager seems to be the inability to ever see a whole: While working at Borders a regional manager came in and rearranged our displays in spite of our protests - she goofed up necessary relationships in the space, changing it in ways that while good perhaps for "sales" were manifestly bad for being a human being and getting to the check-out. It took watching several customers pile up and a wheel chair get wedged before she conceded that our local staff might know something about the space...
I think this is also a part of what annoys me about a certain tendency among what I will term the "liberal" (for want of a better term) side of liturgical Christianity - they seem to have a particular weakness for getting stuck in the ideas of their heads, rather than inhabiting their physical space (even, and perhaps especially, while talking about "use of space!") And so you end up with altars placed in odd places, weird unforeseen emphases, awkward movements, bizarre proportions implying importance and lack thereof of all manner of furniture and ornament, to cater to a particular idea - but at the cost of "dividing the substance." Organic development over time lead to chasubles suitable for the task at hand; theory led to the replacement with chasubles that are "too hot, so we won't wear them during the summer" and that knock things over, drag hosts off the paten, etc. Organic development let to altars being slightly raised to enhance line-of-site; theory moves the altar nearer to the [front row] people, and thus hides it from any in the middle-to-back.
Talk amongst yourselves.

"Proper 14"

2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51


As those of you who are on Facebook are no doubt aware, the past week the media has been abuzz with the curfuffel over Chick-fil-A. The CEO said in an interview that he was “guilty as charged” on opposing the rights and safety of gay people. This was news to no one. So interviews were sought for responses, and various “liberals” and gay persons were naturally repulsed and advocated boycotting Chick-fil-A: which many of us had been doing anyway. Those people who supported his views tried to make it a “free speech” issue, and went en-masse to eat there and have their pictures taken, ostensibly to support his rights, which were not being challenged. That some would agree with him was also not surprising; what was surprising was that those people – our own friends and family members – would come out and make such a public statement on our Facebook feeds that agreement his views was more important that being in relationship with us: that they would sell us for a chicken sandwich.

In today's Epistle, Paul writes, “Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil.” That has been extremely hard for me this past week. I have been angry as I've gone to bed each night. But I don't wish to make room for the devil!

Paul says in the first line, “let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors.” The Chick-fil-A-ers would no doubt say that's exactly what they were doing: speaking the truth. But I would first ask, along with Pontias Pilate: What is truth? The mediævals saw this question as an anagram of its own answer: Quid est veritas? Est vir qui adest. What is truth? It is the man standing here. Jesus is The Truth. Although “What Would Jesus Do?” is a modern meme, it is a very biblical question. After all all, as Paul continues, “we are members of one another-” and we share that membership in Christ.

It seems to me that Jesus was always secure in his relationships. Unlike many of us, he didn't let his interactions be coloured by fear, deference, or hedging, so as not to say something that might upset someone. He always spoke his Truth in a respectful dialogue with anyone who was interested. Those who were not interested in dialogue, he called out- sometimes in very colourful terms. But he never attempted to suppress their own views, and he never used force to get his way.

In today’s Old Testament reading we also have a story of broken relationships and no communication. To summarize the backstory: David’s son by one wife, Amnon, raped his sister by another wife, Tamar. Tamar went to her brother Absolom and told him what happened, and Absolom went to David. But David’s response was, essentially, “Boys will be boys!” Finding this an insufficient response, Absalom killed Amnon, and fled the country. Time passed, and Absolom returned to the area, but still wouldn't talk to his father. Instead he began forming a rebellion. David ignored this as long as possible, and then finally had to let his captain, Joab, put it down. "But," he said, "deal kindly with the young man Absalom." Well, Joab killed Absalom as soon as he had the chance. The sun went down on anger, communication ceased, and a family was destroyed. To late, David lamented, "Oh, Absalom my son, my son! Would God that I had died instead of you!" It is interesting to note that “David’s Greater Son” did die instead of those that rebelled against him - and thus brought healing to broken relationships.

Looking back to the Epistle: “Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.” What would Jesus do? He would be kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving. I saw a quote recently, though I can't remember who said it, that “Holding on to anger is like drinking poison, and expecting your enemy to die.” The behaviour that Paul recommends is not just for the sake of others, but for our own sake.

So, being kind and forgiving, how did Jesus effect his “victory”, and how do we do so in him? According to the Prophet Isaiah, “By his stripes we are healed.” The exhibition of his wounds did more to strengthen his allies and confound his enemies than any argument could. So likewise, we ought to speak the truth, exhibit our pain and woundedness, but refuse to fight. (Now, this is not to suggest that we ought not individually to leave an abusive situation if we may, for then we certainly ought to.) On a public scale, though, this is what I believe Paul is telling is us is the appropriate response. It is not flamboyant, and it is certainly not easy. But we must remember, that it is not flesh and blood behind the offenses. And so, without anger, we must forgive others, as we hope God will forgive us.

Easter Vigil

Genesis 1 & 2:1-2.
Exodus 14:24-15:1
Isaiah 4:1-6
Deuteronomy 31:22-30
Colossians 3:1-7
John 20:1-10

This is the night.
Tonight we stand on the brink.

We stand between Darkness and Light. “Darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.”
We stand between Water and Fire. “The Lord looked unto the host of the Egyptians through the pillar of fire and of the cloud...and the Lord overthrew the Egyptians in the midst of the sea.”
We stand between Death and Life. Yesterday, we were there as our Lord was crucified and buried; tomorrow he will rise again.
We stand between Font and Candle, which re-present and partake of these things: The Font re-presents the dark waters of creation from which our new birth comes; the Red Sea through which we pass to freedom as our slavery to Pharoah is drowned; the tomb of our Lord which we partake of in our Baptism. The Candle re-presents the first Light of creation; the pillar of Fire which draws us, like the ancient Hebrews, forward to the promised land; and the Light of Christ - hidden in the tomb, and for us hidden in the rock of flint- hidden but not quenched as it sparks anew to grow and spread.

We stand between time and eternity. “Tonight Heaven and Earth are joined,” as Mother Anne sang. Every year, as time wends on its way, we remember this night: But, this night we do not only remember deeds of past times, tonight we are inundated with symbols to stimulate us to the realization that all these times are Now. We remember in the mystical sense, as we do at each Eucharist: “Do this in remembrance of me.” Mystical remembrance does not look backward to a past, but *inward* to an ever-present reality. THIS is the night.


What we find on this brink is God. In the pull between the Spirit in the Darkness, and the Word in the Light we find God especially exemplified as Love. In Love the world was created, that Man and God might exist in Love toward one another. In Love were the children of Israel led to freedom, and a land flowing with milk and honey. Through the Lord of Love himself were all things created - including each of us! - and through him we are sustained.
The contrary forces of the world would deny us that understanding; would, through the “knowledge of Good and Evil” exile us from the “garden” of unity with God, ourselves and with each other; Satan would hold us in a living Death of feeling alone. In the Creation story, God made “Adam” in his own image and likeness. We’re used to seeing “Adam” portrayed as a human male, one male among many others since. But Adam may also be “mankind.” Original sin is not something we inherited from the misdeed of an ancestor, it is the reality in which Mankind finds itself. But Christ came, not to reverse that reality, but to transcend it. “O wonderful providence of Adam’s transgression, that by such a death sin might be done away!” Love himself, ever present in us since our creation, is still able to burst the rocky tomb, and break the gates our hells in sunder. As the Athenasian creed rehearses, Christ is One, “not by conversion of the Godhead into flesh, but by taking of the Manhood into God.” In Christ, manhood - Adam - each of us! is taken into God!

When we give the elements of the world to another, our own handle on them is diminished. The World operates on an economy of scarcity. But Heaven operates on an economy of abundance. Christ forshowed this in the Feeding of the Five Thousand. It is forshown in our candle tonight: every time the flame is divided, it is not diminished but rather increased! We participate in this reality every time we partake of the Eucharist: the body of Christ is divided as the bread is broken; but as it is slowly assimilated and transformed in each of us, his body is not in the least diminished, but spread! And so it is with Love. True love is not finite: Rather as one Loves the other, one’s own self is increased. The more we Love, the more the kingdom of heaven is realized. The world is not left behind, for Love requires the Other, and that painful division, that Good-and-Evil, and This-and-That which is found only in the World, in Time. But when we *Love*, time is infused with Eternity, and the Kingdom of Heaven is realized on Earth.

Let us then own this Great Mystery, that we might always be Risen with Christ. Let us Love one another that, as we prayed in our Collect, unto us may be opened the “gate of everlasting life.” Not a life that has no temporal end, but rather a life lived now in Eternity.

This is the night.

Second Sunday in Lent

1 Thess. 4. 1.
St. Matth. 15. 21.

Today's Gospel lesson is one that I've always felt uneasy with. Our Lord seems uncharacteristically dismissive of the Canaanite woman. A few chapters earlier, Jesus had said, ‘Come unto me all that travail and our heavy laden, and I will refresh you.’ How different does his treatment of this woman seem! If anyone was travailing and heavy laden, it was her: her daughter was grievously vexed with a devil–and of course the daughter’s vexation became the mother’s as well! And so much did she desire the healing of her child that she left her own land to seek out a foreign religious healer.

But what she received was not an immediate refreshment. Rather, he ‘answered her not a word.’ The disciples interceded for her–though not with as much goodwill as we might wish–he responded to them that he was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel. Still being not dissuaded, she pressed him yet more, and he finally addressed her, ‘It is not meet to take the children’s bread, and to cast it to dogs.’ How unlike the Jesus we learn of in pietistic hymns, or devotional images!

But, if this is striking to us, it was certainly striking to those in the past as well. Given that ‘whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope,’ the consensus of the patristic commentaries is that Jesus only responded the way he did because he in turn knew how she would respond. And that his delays in granting her request were meant only to elicit and display the fullness of her humility and faith to those round about, and thus to us, rather then fulfilling her wish while such virtue remained hidden. If this is not the first understanding that came to my mind, it nonetheless seems reasonable.

What, then, is the lesson for us? ‘A woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts.’ First, we must recognize that we need him. She was unable to do anything for her daughter herself, nor could her own people. Similarly we often find that our own afflictions vex us: but we find ourselves unable to overcome them alone. ‘She cried to him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David.’ When other humans fail to help us, we may find that the reason is that we didn’t ask. Perhaps they knew of our distress and could have aided, but by not asking we implicitly said that we did not yet require help. Now God knows when we need help without our asking-but, as with humans, until we ask we may well be unable to receive. Help may be ‘near the coasts,’ but unrecognized because we aren't yet looking for it. When she got no answer, she nonetheless ‘cried after them,’ inciting the intercession of the Apostles. When we do ask for help, but seem to get no answer, it’s easy to think the answer is ‘no.’ But her faith led her on toward the healer who would refresh her. ‘No’ was not the answer. And the delay excited the compassion-even though it be embarrassed!- of others to her cause. When he said he was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel, ‘she worshipped him, saying, Lord, help me.’ This was as much as to demand that she be counted as such a lost sheep. Finally, he compared her, as a heathen, to a dog. She did not deny it, but demanded the due that even the dogs may receive. In all of this she did not waver or turn back. And that is what Jesus wanted to show to those round about, and to us who now read the story. For he then exclaimed, ‘O woman, great is thy faith! Be it unto thee even as thou wilt.’

A few chapters earlier, another pagan had come to him for the healing of a loved one: a centurion who’s boy was sick. That interaction gave a different example, but the result was the same: Jesus said, ‘I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.’ Within the Use of Rome, before receiving the Eucharist, the Prayer of the that Centurion is prayed (altering the word ‘servant’ to ‘soul’): ‘Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof: but speak the word only and my soul shall be healed.’ In the Anglican use, the Prayer of Humble Access is similarly used before receiving the Eucharist, and contains an allusion to this woman’s response: ‘We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table. But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy.’

At the Eucharist we come of out of the coasts of our everyday lives, and Jesus draws near to us. And he would teach us through these Gentile examples that, if we may wrestle with the seeming contradiction, that to receive his blessing we must come to him in true humility-and yet demand it of him. In the 32nd chapter of Genesis, we read that Jacob wrestled with the Angel of the Lord. The Angel said, ‘Let me go, for the day breaketh. And he said, I will not let thee go, except thou bless me. And he said unto him, What is thy name? And he said, Jacob. And he said, Thy name shall be called no more Jacob, but Israel: for as a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and hast prevailed.’ In a more homely image, Jesus gives us the Parable of the Unjust Judge:

‘And he spake a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint; Saying, There was in a city a judge, which feared not God, neither regarded man: And there was a widow in that city; and she came unto him, saying, Avenge me of mine adversary. And he would not for a while: but afterward he said within himself, Though I fear not God, nor regard man; Yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me. And the Lord said, Hear what the unjust judge saith. And shall not God avenge his own elect, which cry day and night unto him, though he bear long with them?’

And so the church, as the widow of the parable, troubleth God through repeated bidding prayers, litanies, and petitions. Like the Canaanite woman, the church cries many times a day, ‘Have mercy on me, O Lord,’ that we as individuals might make it our own prayer as well. The only reason to do this is in the faith that God will hear and answer. But, as with the Canaanite woman, the petitions must be given in humility. As long as we fail to truly recognize our weakness and need, we fail to allow God to work. When we ask for something, and upon receiving no quick response turn away, we don't allow him to help us. When we see blessings given to others and become jealous, we don’t allow him to help us. And should drawing nigh to him bring to our mind our own imperfections: if we bristle with pride and indignation, we do not allow him to help us!

Today’s Collect begins, ‘Almighty God, who seest that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves.’ This is the point the Canaanite woman was at. And in this humble realization, she was able to press on in an untroubled faith. No turning back, not disputing, but only pressing ever nearer to him, knowing that only in him could her salvation be found. There are those who would dispute the language used in our liturgies in the confessions of sin or the prayers before receiving communion, finding them ‘cringing’ or displaying ‘unrealistic false humility.’ But like so many things in our liturgies, if they reflected only our current disposition, they would in no way draw us nearer to God. If the prayers do not currently reflect my sentiment, I can in an case believe them to be true, and pray them, not as writhing in guilt, but as a simple acknowledgement of fact.

In the movie Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Indy comes to the temple where the Grail is housed. He knows he must press through the challenges that await him, because only by attaining the Grail can he save his father who lies mortally wounded at the entrance. He knows from his father’s grail diary that ‘Only the penitent man shall pass’ the first trial. Others have died here. He moves slowly and cautiously: not drawing back- he must press on. Salvation is on the other side. Only the penitent man shall pass. The penitent man will pass. The penitent man... The penitent man is humble before God... He kneels before God... Kneel! In just the knick of time, Indy kneels and thus avoids the blades that aimed at head-height which constitute the first trap. I wouldn't draw too close an association between Indiana’s climactic trials and our own lives, but as with Indy-humility is about honestly assessing oneself and one’s weaknesses, and proceeding accordingly.

And so, in humility, we may approach God in faith. Jesus assures us that though mercy we crave may be delayed, it will not be denied. I would like to end with a parable the 19th century Baptist preacher Charles Spurgeon reported concerning faith:

She had to cross a stream, and the current was strong, and there came one to her who said, “faith, I will help you! Come with me up the river till we can find a place where we can ford it.” Faith said, “No; I was bidden to cross the river here.” So another came, and said, “I will build a bridge for you, that you may go over the river with ease;” and he laid hold of a few stones, but not much ever came of it. Yet another said, “I will go and find a boat.” But there were no boats about; therefore he asked faith to wait till they build a boat for her. What did she do? She took off her vestments, and plunged into the water. “Thank God,” said she, “I can swim;” and so she swam across, and reached the other side without boat, without bridge, and without ford.

And now to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, both now and for ever.

Christmas

Isaiah 9:2-7
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-20

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
Those who lived in a land of deep darkness- on them light has shined."

I've always enjoyed winter, but for the first time this year, I've been looking out my window at 4 in the afternoon, thinking, “It's so dark! Where is the light?” No matter what “Latest Findings” may turn up in the news or on TV around this time speculating when Jesus was “really” born, there are good reasons we celebrate it at the darkest time of year. We are all a people who walk in darkness.
It seems like every few months now, the country is about to go bankrupt. Politicians blame one another as they attempt to keep or gain power, but don't seem too concerned with us common folk. Checkpoints at airports keep us in fear, and remind us of the darkness around us. Individually, we have our private darknesses of depression or anxiety, of having lost someone we love, of having lost a job, or opportunity. We can understand the pain of the ancient Israelites as they sat in captivity, as expressed in Psalm 137:
By the waters of Babylon we sát down and wépt, * when we remembered thée, O Sýon.
2. As for our harps, we hánged them úp * upon the trées that áre therein.
3. For they that led us away captive required of us then a song, and melody ín our héaviness: * Sing us one of the sóngs of Sýon.
4. How shall we síng the Lórd’s song * ín a stránge land?

In our pain, we cry to God, as they did, imploring his help. It's not when things are going well, when all is bright, that we do this. The story of the Israelites is the story of each of us. We understand how easy it is to forget God, as they did, when everything’s going well, but as we experience the darkness and the cold around us, that's not where we are. Expectations are unreasonably high; family disagreements are magnified, and we want the yoke of our burden broken. And to those ancient people, and to us today, Esaias prophesied: “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us.”

And so they waited, and so we wait.

“In those days, a decree went out from Emperor Augustus.” God hears the cries of his people, and he comes. But he comes not in power and majesty, through rent heavens – but in secrecy, darkness, anonymity. He comes to save his people – but not everyone notices. Jesus would later say, “Watch ye therefore: for ye know not when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at the cockcrowing, or in the morning: Lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch.” So we see in tonight’s gospel, “In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.”
In our own darkness, God, who is Love, comes to us as Love-made-flesh. We find him in our darkness hidden, attended by lowly animals. This little babe shows us the beginning of his kingdom, an upside-down kingdom, unlooked for by the people of power. Those people can't understand his kingdom, or see it, because it is a kingdom of Love. It isn't a kingdom that exists somewhere else, in the future, or in heaven: it's right in our midst, and all it takes is Love to see it.
When we suffer in the darkness of a loss of a parent, or sibling, or friend, we suffer because we love that person. And in that Love, Christ is present with us. He doesn't overthrow the darkness by force, he robs it of its power by Love. If we “watch”, and see him there, we're not alone, and as the Psalmist says in Psalm 139, “the darkness is no darkness with thee, but the night is as cléar as the dáy; * the darkness and light to thée are bóth alike.” The simple knowledge that we're not alone can make the darkness no longer a burden: it is through love that the “boots of the tramping warriors” are burned as fuel for the fire. He comes to us in the smile of a stranger, in the kind words of a friend, in the chance jumping out at us of a word or phrase from a book or paper we happen to see.
When we then go to someone else who is in darkness – not with solutions to their problems, not with judgments or answers, but with a simple presence in Love – Christ is once more incarnating. “They shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” It is in simply being with one another in Love that Christ is eternally born in our darknesses. This is the wonderful manner in which the devil is confounded! As Jesus would later describe the Kingdom of heaven, “The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took, and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened.” Once the leaven of Love is worked into the meal our Life, no matter what hurt comes to us, Love will resurface. And so Tonight we celebrate the Birth of Love. Not 2000 years ago, but Now, Eternally, With us.

Proposed revision of the Commination for Ash Wednesday

After Mattins and the Litany.
¶ After Morning Prayer, the Litany ended according to the accustomed manner, the Priest shall, in the reading Pew or Pulpit, say,

Brethren, this time of Lent upon which we are now entered was, by the Ancient Church, observed very religiously, and set apart; all men examining themselves for true fasting, and for the due preparation of all persons for the worthy receiving the Communion at Easter.
In the Primitive Church there was a godly discipline, that, at the beginning of Lent, such persons as stood convicted of notorious sin were put out of the church to open penance, and punished in this world, that their souls might be saved in the day of the Lord; and that others, admonished by their example, might be the more afraid to offend. In place whereof, let us hearken to the example of our first ancestors:

A reading from the third chapter of Genesis.
Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of the serpent, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. And the Lord God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever: Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken. So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life.

Let us, who have sinned in ignorance or knowledge amend our lives, lest we be suddenly overtaken by the day of Death, and seek space of repentance and find it not. You must know that fasting is of no value, but as it is joined with prayer, and the afflicting of our souls before God. Nor does its substance consist merely in the distinction of meats, but in such a restraint of bodily appetites as disposes the mind more for prayer. The goal of fasting, prayer, and our sorrowing for sin, is to work in us true repentance; which is a real change both of our heart and life by which we become assured of God’s love and favour to us.

¶ Then shall they all kneel upon their knees, and the Priest and Clerks kneeling (in the place where they are accustomed to say the Litany) shall say this Psalm.

Psalm 51. Miserere mei, deus.

V Kyrie eléyson. R Christe eléyson. Kyrie eléyson.
Our Father, which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, As we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; But deliver us from evil. Amen.
V O Lord, save thy servants and handmaids. R That put their trust in thee.
V Send unto them help from above. R And evermore mightily defend them.
V Help us, O God our Saviour. R And for the glory of thy Name deliver us; be merciful to us sinners, for thy Name’s sake.
V O Lord, hear our prayer. R And let our cry come unto thee.
V The Lord be with you. R And with thy spirit.
Let us pray.
O Lord, we beseech thee, mercifully hear our prayers, and spare all those who confess their sins unto thee; that they, whose consciences by sin are accused, by thy merciful pardon may be absolved; through Christ our Lord. R Amen.

O most mighty God, and merciful Father, who hast compassion upon all men, and hatest nothing that thou hast made; who wouldest not the death of a sinner, but that he should rather turn from his sin, and be saved: Mercifully forgive us our trespasses; receive and comfort us, who are grieved and wearied with the burden of our sins. Thy property is always to have mercy; to thee only it appertaineth to forgive sins. Spare us therefore, good Lord, spare thy people, whom thou hast redeemed; enter not into judgement with thy servants, who are vile earth, and miserable sinners; but so turn thine anger from us, who meekly acknowledge our vileness, and truly repent us of our faults, and so make haste to help us in this world, that we may ever live with thee in the world to come; through Jesus Christ our Lord. R Amen.

¶ Then shall the people say this that followeth, after the Minister.
Turn thou us, O good Lord, and so shall we be turned. Be favourable, O Lord, Be favourable to thy people, Who turn to thee in weeping, fasting, and praying. For thou art a merciful God, Full of compassion. Longsuffering, and of great pity. Thou sparest when we deserve punishment, And in thy wrath thinkest upon mercy. Spare thy people, good Lord, spare them, And let not thine heritage be brought to confusion. Hear us, O Lord, for thy mercy is great, And after the multitude of thy mercies look upon us; Through the merits and mediation of thy blessed Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Imposition of Ashes

¶ The Priest shall then go to the Altar and bless the ashes:
Almighty and everlasting God, who hast compassion upon all men, and hatest nothing which thou hast made, passing over the sins of men for their penitence; who also succourest them that are in necessity: vouchsafe to bless + and sanctify + these ashes, which for humility and holy religion’s sake thou hast appointed us, after the manner of the Ninevites, to bear on our heads, for the doing away of our offences: and grant that by the invocation of thy Holy Name, all those who have so borne them for the entreating of thy mercy may be thought worthy to receive from thee pardon of all their sins, and this day so to begin their holy fast, that on the day of the Resurrection they may be admitted to the holy Paschal Feast with purified minds, and at length receive eternal glory. Through etc.

¶ The Priest then signs each person’s forehead with the ashes, saying,
! Remember, O man, that thou art dust, and unto dust shalt thou return. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

¶ While this is done, the choir shall sing this Anthem. The anthem shall be sung after each verse of its psalm.
Ant. Let us change our garments for sackcloth and ashes; let us fast and weep before the Lord, for our God is very merciful to put away our sins.
Psalm 69. Salvum me fac

¶ This Psalm may be sung only as far as required for the distribution of ashes.

¶ The Priest then says,
V The Lord be with you. R And with thy spirit.
Let us pray.
Grant us, Lord, we beseech thee, so to enter upon Christian warfare with this holy fast, that we who are about to fight against spiritual wickedness may be fortified with the aid of continence. Through etc.

¶ Then turning to the people, he says,
The Lord bless us, and keep us; the Lord lift up the light of his countenance upon us, and give us peace, now and for evermore. R. Amen.

Proposed Rites for Holy Thursday

I've been researching lately the formation of the 1549 prayer book, and comparing it to the Sarum rites that came before. It seems to me that likely some of the "Ceremonies abolished" were abolished as much for lack of time to prepare, as for any definite purpose. (Now, by 1552, other forces had gained the ascendancy.) So, in the spirit of the 1549, I propose these rites for Holy Thursday, in the context of the traditional Book of Common Prayer.

Reconciliation of the Penitents
¶ Before Mass, the following is said,
Dearly beloved, as in the Primitive Church, at the beginning of Lent, such persons as stood convicted of notorious sin were put to open penance; so on this day those persons were returned to the loving arms of the Church.
The accepted time is come: The day of divine propitiation and salvation of men, when death was abolished and eternal life began. For albeit no time is devoid of the riches of the Lord’s goodness, yet now forgiveness of sins is more ample by reason of his indulgence, and the admission of those that are beginning a new life is more free by reason of his grace.
¶ A Procession is then made to the altar, singing,
Ant. Come ye, children, hearken unto me, I will teach you the fear of the Lord. Ps. 34

¶ Upon reaching the Quire, then shall be said,
Our Father etc.
V. And lead us not into temptation. R. But deliver us from evil.
V. My God, save thy servants and handmaidens. R. Which put their trust in thee.
V. Send them help from thy holy place; R. And evermore mightily defend them
V. Lord, hear my prayer. R. And let my cry come unto thee.
V. The Lord be with you. R. And with thy spirit.
Let us pray.
O Lord, Holy Father, Almighty, everlasting God, who hast deigned to heal our wounds: grant to these thy servants, O Lord, pardon for punishment, joy for mourning, life for death, that they may be counted worthy to attain unto the blessings of the reward of thy peace, and unto the gifts of Heaven. Through etc.
¶ Then the Priest shall turn to the people, and say,
Our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath left power to his Church to absolve all sinners who truly repent and believe in him, of his great mercy forgive thee thine offences: And by his authority committed to me, I absolve thee from all thy sins, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. R. Amen.

The Maundy

¶ Before Evensong, the Celebrant shall gird himself with a towl, and proceeds to wash the feet of twelve persons, or as many as may be found.

¶ While this is done, the choir shall sing,
Ant. I give you a new commandment : that ye love one another. Psalm 133

Ant. Then Mary anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped them with her hair; and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment. Psalm 67

¶ The Priest then resumes his cope.
Our Father.
V. We wait for thy lovingkindness, O God. R. In the midst of thy temple.
V. Thou hast charged. R. That we should diligently keep thy commandments.
V. Behold, how good and joyful a thing it is. R. Brethren, to dwell together in unity.
V. Lord, hear my prayer. R. And let my cry come unto thee.
V. The Lord be with you. R. And with thy spirit.
Let us pray.
Be present, O Lord, we beseech thee, at the performance of our bounden duty; and because thou didst deign to wash thy disciples’ feet, despise not thou the work of thy hands which thou hast committed unto us to be retained; but as the outward impurities of our bodies are here washed away, so may the inward sins of us all be cleansed by thee, which do thou thyself deign to grant. Who etc.


The Stripping of the Altars
¶ After Evensong, the clergy shall strip the altars of all cloths and ornaments. During this time, the following is sung.
Ant. They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture they cast lots. Psalm 22

¶ The Altars are then washed with blessed water. After washing each altar, the Priest shall say the collect of the Saint in whose honour the Altar is consecrated.
¶ Meanwhile shall be sung,
Resp. On the Mount of Olives I prayed to the Father : Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. † Thy will be done. V. Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. † Thy will be done.

Resp. Lying men compassed me about; they scourged me without a cause: † but thou, O Lord, my defence, avenge me. V. For trouble is hard at hand, and there is none to help. † But thou, O Lord, my defence, avenge me.

¶ Afterword, all depart in silence.

Feast of St. Michael

Genesis 28:10-17
Revelation 12:7-12
John 1:47-51

When I was four years old, I remember waking up in the night, the bedroom lit only by a bit of moonlight through the window. I woke up because I was falling out of bed. But I wasn’t nervous at all, and I still remember the fall being gentle. I got up and climbed back into bed, knowing that I had been alright because my guardian angel was there and had lowered me gently to the ground. When thinking of the event now, I recall Psalm 91, “And he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep the in all thy ways. They shall bear thee in their hands, that thou hurt not thy foot against a stone. Memories are not always reliable, but this one has been with me for a long time.

Today we celebrate St. Michael the Archangel, one of the Patrons of our Jurisdiction. Traditionally, This was one of a few feasts dedicated exclusively to Michael. In more recently devised calendars, the other Archangels are included. And although the Orthodox Christians don’t celebrate Michael until November, when they do, the feast is even broader: The Synaxis (or Common celebration) of Michael and All the Bodiless Powers. And finally, in the traditional calendar, today would be the Feast of the Guardian Angels. So today, I’d like to talk about angels in general.



The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of angels, and - based on my conversations with various people recently, these images are pretty common - is a large, beautiful, and probably sort of androgynous looking human, with large bird wings wearing a robe. Michael however, doesn’t wear a robe, but rather a roman breastplate and kilt, and carries a sword. They can be invisible, and when they’re not on earth, they sit around heaven playing harp.

Looking at some more learned people’s opinions, I found quite a bit more information than the common knowledge. St. Denis the Aereopagite says that angels are portrayed with animal parts, such as bird wings, or, in the case of Cherubim, with hooves, specifically because animal parts on a celestial being should strike us as unbelievably ridiculous, and we can then ask what the symbols *mean*, rather than accept them as the actual appearance.

Rabbi Moses ben Maimon, wrote in his 12th c. “Guide to the Perplexed”, that angels were what we would presently call “Natural laws.” He writes,
“Say to a person who is believed to belong to the wise men of Israel that the Almighty sends His angel to enter the womb of a woman and to form there the fœtus, he will be satisfied with the account; he will believe it, and even find in it a description of the greatness of God's might and wisdom; although he believes that the angel consists of burning fire, and is as big as a third part of the Universe, yet he considers it possible as a divine miracle. But tell him that God gave the seed a formative power which produces and shapes the limbs, and that this power is called "angel," .. and he will turn away; because he cannot comprehend the true greatness and power of creating forces that act in a body without being perceived by our senses.”

How different were his times than our own!

The authorities agree that the word “angel” is properly a description of the office, and not the creature per se, because angels are “Messengers” of God’s will. Angels have no bodies, being spiritual creatures - made of intellect and will. St. Thomas Aquinas states that angels can put on bodies, like a set of clothes, if necessary to appear before the waking eyes of multiple persons, as when the three angels were entertained by Abraham and Sarah. These bodies are, however, merely drawn out of the air, and dispersed when the angel is through. More often, angels are perceived, (when perceived at all), through the spiritual sight - what we call the imagination, as when Jacob beheld them ascending and descending on the ladder. Thomas further states that, being made of intellect and not matter, angels are not bound to a particular space in the *same fashion* that we are. Rather, when we say that an angel is “in a place”, that means something similar to us “thinking about something.” That is simply the location where the angel’s understanding is occupied.



St. Thomas says that the higher orders of angels are concerned with broader fields of operation - the universe, the world, certain countries, etc. The lowest order of angels may be concerned with individuals. Among these are what we call Guardian Angels. Although some angels are guardians over entire peoples - as God said to the Israelites going out of Egypt, "Behold, I send mine angel before you," yet every individual also has an Angel guardian. And unlike the grace of baptism, which comes only to some, God gives to every individual a guardian angel at their birth. And just as the devil and his angels are able to provide us with evil or despairing thoughts, worries and temptations; so our guardian Angel is able to provide us with hope, strength, and possibilities. In "The Bishop's Wife", the angel Dudley is telling the bishop's daughter about the boy David driving the Lions away from his sheep, and composing the psalms, and he says that an Angel put the idea in his head, although David didn't realize that it was an angel.


What does knowing something about the Angels do for us? Why not simply know that God cares for us, and leave his method unexamined? God does nothing without a purpose, and anything we come to know about God brings us closer to him, and allows us to live more fully in him. Just as he has revealed to us his Unity in Trinity to teach us, among other things, the primacy of Love, so by operating through the ministry of Angels are we reminded that our Love for God cannot strictly play out privately between God and Us, but is mediated through his creation. As Jesus says, those who have fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and comforted the sorrowful are those who have done so to him. Angels remind us that we cannot operate alone, and indeed, we need not: we never are alone. Not only does God attend us each individually, but furthermore he sends angels to help and guide us.

In the reading from the Apocalypse of St. John, we heard that Michael overcame the devil and his angels, and threw them out of heaven. Commentators disagree on whether this happened at some time in the distant past, if it happened at the birth of Christ, or if it will happen at the end of the world. Regardless, we may know that in the last days, when we approach the judgement, the accuser will not be there, having lost his power. And although, for the time being, his evil angels are allowed to operate on earth, and are, within the bounds set by God for reasons that we cannot fully understand right now, allowed to try to harm us, we always have helpers near at hand to support us. And as the angels themselves, being creatures of spirit, abide with us through the simple direction of their thoughts, so we too need never turn further than to think on or imagine the angels and saints in order to be truly present with them.
And as we grow in faith, and attend to the action of God in our lives, may we ever more often be able to say with Jacob, "Surely the Lord is in this place -- and I did not know it!" And as we realize more truly God's dwelling within us, may we ever more securely realize that our own hearts are "none other than the house of God, and the gate of heaven."

The Most Holy Trinity

Apocalypse 4.

In the fourth chapter of the Apocalypse, we see a description of the heavenly worship. Now, when Moses was given the requirements and descriptions for the construction of the earthly tabernacle and the rites to be performed in it, it was to be an earthly mirror of the heavenly reality. The figures given were understood to imitate and intimate, in their way, the Spiritual realities they pointed to. And indeed, there is a great deal of Jewish commentary on the typology and symbolism present in the rites and implements.

In John's vision, we see a description (albeit, still in images and types! The only way our earthly selves can perceive!) of that heavenly reality. Not all of it is present in this 4th chapter; some details come later. But we see that where the Temple of Solomon contained a “sea” made of brass–an immense basin containing several hundred gallons of water for the priests to wash in–, John beholds a “sea” made of glass like crystal. The temple was served by the Levitical priesthood; John beholds twenty-four elders - “priests” in the Greek – adoring. The focus of the Tabernacle and then the temple was the Ark of the Covenant in the Holy of Holies: the top of it being the “mercy seat” flanked by cherubim. John beholds a seat, and one thereon, flanked by 4 “Living Creatures”. The throne, cherubim, and possibly the sea – have also been seen before in Ezekiel. The beasts are seen to have six wings, full of eyes, and they sing, “Holy, holy, holy.”

So, why, on the Feast of the Holy Trinity, are we given a reading that contains no overt references to the Trinity? Perhaps it is because our own worship is also a mirror of the heavenly, and it is through our worship that we come to have some bit of understanding about the Trinity.

For us, as for the ancient Hebrews, the analogy is not exact, and naturally contains certain differences due to the fact that the object of our worship is in heaven! Our Throne is the altar, and the one seated thereon is Jesus. Within the next few chapters of John's vision, Jesus will appear as the slain Lamb; but for us, he is God Incarnate. He is the only image of and way to the Father on the heavenly throne. As we sing at Christmas, quoting Wisdom 18, “For while all things were in quiet silence, and that night was in the midst of her swift course, thine Almighty Word leaped down from heaven out of thy royal throne.” Around the heavenly throne are 24 elders dressed in white and wearing crowns; the earthly altars are surrounded by clergy in white albs, and crowned with the tonsure of humility. In heaven the throne issues lightnings, thunderings, and voices; on earth we hear God in the silence. The seven lamps of fire burning before the throne remain in the Orthodox East, we of the West alter the number of candles we place about the altar. The Sea of crystal in heaven is mirrored by our baptismal font of stone.

Four Living Creatures are described, flying, seeing, and singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy!” When they do so, the elders fall down, and glorify the one on the throne. In our worship the Living Creatures are the Four Gospels. The first portion of our worship builds toward the reading of the Gospel. It is this which lifts our souls, as with wings, toward the object of its worship and ours; which gives us eyes of understanding; and which compels us to respond, “Holy!” and so in the Mass of the Faithful, we sing with them, and with the priests we fall before the throne, giving ourselves to God in thanksgiving for our creation and redemption.

How then, does this Scripture represent the Trinity, and how do we encounter it? Very little, as I mentioned, is said here. Christ is mentioned once, in the first verse, summoning John with a voice like a trumpet to behold the mysteries. The Holy Ghost may be mentioned once or twice: John was said to be immediately “in the spirit”; and the lamps before the throne are the seven Spirits of God. Finally, the Father is seated upon the throne, like jasper or sardine.

But we, farther away in understanding from the heavenly mysteries, are more explicit in the operations of the Trinity. All our prayers are directed to the Father, through the Son, in the Spirit. All our worship begins, as John's did, “in the Spirit.” It is the presence of God within us, the love of God among us, that turns our gaze to God. Within the Church on Earth, we find the Son, and through him are led – through the waters of baptism, the desert of fasting, to the cross of self-sacrifice where, casting down our golden crowns, we truly can be brought into the presence of our Creative Father.



Ascension Day Sermon by The Rev. Mr. Michael Shirk is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

Whitsun Day

S. John 14. 15.

Today is Whitsun Day, or Pentecost. In today’s epistle, we here that the disciples were all together “When the day of Pentecost was fully come.” The Jewish festival of Pentecost, or Festival of Weeks, falls 50 days after Passover, and commemorates both the giving of the Law on Mount Sinai, and the offering of the first-fruits to God. As the crops, earlier planted, begin to fruit, the first fruits that appear were marked in some fashion, and today were brought to the temple to be offered to God. This is why, in the epistle reading, Jews from all over the world were present.


Today we celebrate the same thing – but viewed through Jesus Christ. The Jewish people celebrate the giving of the Law to Moses on Mt. Sinai; we celebrate Jesus giving of the Law of Love to the disciples. The Jews celebrate the first fruits of the crops, and we celebrate the first fruits of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit: the crop of about three thousand souls.

Let us look specifically at the Law of Love, as described in today’s gospel. “If ye love me, keep my commandments.” Now, we have all heard the saying, “Actions speak louder than words.” And we know from experience that this is true. Most of us have probably had the experience of a friend or family member who, although saying they loved us, or that we were their best friend, or that we could trust them, betrayed us in some way – and it was the deed, not the word, which was able to reach most deeply.

And so Jesus admonishes the disciples – and through them, us – today: “If ye love me, keep my commandments.” It is not through saying that we love Jesus, nor through feeling an affection toward him, that our love is shown to be real – but through keeping his commandments.

What are his commandments? I could only find one “commandment” listed as such in the Gospel according to St. John: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you:” the commandment, or mandatum of Maundy Thursday. That love for our neighbors is likewise not sentimental or affectionate, or at least not exclusively so: it is a love of deeds, of service to them. A love which receives a stranger as though he were Christ. A love which washes another’s feet. A love which, in the end, is willing to lay down its life for another. Isaac Williams, a 19th century English theologian writes, “Love is itself the keeping of the commandments, the new law, and the true Pentecost of Mount Sion, which is engraven on the affections of the new man, fulfils the law which it gives, and in so doing is a law unto itself.”

The way that we love Jesus is through loving each other. And when we do so, we will find, as Jesus promised, that the Holy Ghost, the comforter, is with us. His presence in our lives is not the reward for good deeds, but is in the deeds themselves.

When I came first came out to my best friend, the first person I came out to, I was afraid. But he gave me a big hug, and said, “That's alright!” In that act of Love he showed to me, the Holy Ghost was present.

“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”

May the light of the Holy Ghost truly enlighten all our hearts, and grant us the grace to ever more love God through one another.


Ascension Day Sermon by The Rev. Mr. Michael Shirk is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

Ascension Day, 2011

Acts 1:1-11

A few weeks ago, Mother Anne asked me if I would like to give the homily tonight. I had mentioned to her in passing that the Ascension was one of my favorite holidays, and she said she'd love to learn why. However, one often has a favorite this or that without the slightest considered reason! So this has been an occasion to look more deeply into a story and celebration that, until now, I have simply “liked.”

Christians have always believed the scriptures do not have a single interpretation, a single truth, but a multitude of depths, all containing truth, and appropriate for different facets of our lives. It has seemed to me that whenever scriptures raise questions (or problems!) for us, that is a call to look more deeply at what is being said – or not said! The story of the Ascension is a fantastic story, and it was fantastic to those who experienced it, and to those who first heard it, as well as to us. I'd like to explore some of what it might have meant to them, and what it might mean for us.

This text has many peculiar details, that, for me, raise questions. For 40 days, Jesus appeared to the disciples, teaching them. It is understandable that he had more to teach them now that they had seen him rise from the dead, than beforehand. But why for only so long? And why only to the disciples? During this time, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem. He had already appeared to certain of them separately, so why did he require that they stay together in that city? Finally, he took them to Bethany, according to the Gospel, and there he was lifted up from them as high as the clouds, before a cloud took him from their sight. How must they have experienced that? I have no idea how the risen Christ must have appeared! In the various accounts, he seems always to have been seen as a person, but never recognized as Jesus until he revealed himself. How does one see someone one knows, and think them a stranger? They saw him, but no one else did; if anyone else had been in the vicinity when the disciples were watching Jesus ascend, what would those others have perceived? Would they have seen anything at all? And finally, as he ascended, and the disciples watch, two angels appear and ask them, “why stand ye gazing up into heaven?” What an odd question considering what just happened!
Some details, be they factual or literary devices, would have served to situate the story in a greater context for the first listeners. For Luke, Jerusalem is a symbol of Judaism and Rome is a symbol of the known world. Perhaps in Jesus requiring the disciples to remain in Jerusalem at first, we see echoed that what Jesus has to teach is first for the Jews, then for the Gentiles. When Jesus took them to Bethany before departing, perhaps he was identifying with the prophecy first given by Zechariah, and later addressed by Amos and Joel concerning the Day of the Lord, when the Lord would stand on the Mount of Olives (where Bethany is located) to Judge the Nations.

Moving into the more troubling question of a levitating body: I think sometimes people in the past are given too little credit in terms of what they believed or wondered or accepted. They perceived a world that operated on the same rules ours does, even if they came with different presuppositions. I think it's a safe course of action to assume that if something seems incredible or doesn't make sense to us, it's possible that the original recipients responded the same way. Luke seems to have been writing to a Gentile audience, and Paul tells us that Greeks seek wisdom – and what he preaches is foolishness to them! I think there is a clue in both the cloud taking Jesus from the disciples’ sight, and in the Angels' question as to how this is meant to be worked with. I'd like to take a side trip through some resent research to explain this.
As Modern Americans, we tend to place a lot of trust in our senses. We tend to think that if we can't see something, it isn't real. And if someone else sees something that we don't, we assume they have a problem. The Ghost of Jacob Marley asked Ebenezer Scrooge why he doubted his senses. Scrooge replied “You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato.” Some of us may wonder, secretly or aloud, whether the disciples had properly cooked their dinner that day. However, we routinely fail to sense many things that are there . In a video of an experiment performed for their book, “The Invisible Gorilla,” Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons ask the viewer to watch a group of people passing a basketball and count the number of passes. Afterward, the viewer is asked if they saw the Gorilla walk through the middle of the group partway through. Most people never see it. I don't know what the resurrection body of our Lord was like, but the frequency with which normal people overlook things that are “right in plain sight” makes it quite plausible to me that the disciples could see something, upon having it pointed out, that others could not.
Part of the reason people don't see the gorilla is that it doesn't belong, and their attention is elsewhere. The Ascension that the disciples witnessed was something new, and totally out of the ordinary. In our own times, when we push beyond the boundaries of what most ordinary people can intuit in their everyday life, we have to resort to analogy and symbol – and we understand that those analogies and symbols are true as far as they go, but limited.
Any specialized field will make use of unknown terms, or – more likely – known terms used in an unknown way to the rest of us. Sometimes we accept this, such as in physics, where many of us are content to let the Physicists know things we don't, and trust that they know what they're talking about. Sometimes it causes us problems, such as the introduction of computers into everyday life: we're confronted with windows, desktops, mice, and menus that are only tangentially related to the windows, desktops, mice and menus that we know outside of computers. And so we get confused, and even indignant, at the impenetrable domain of Computers. The only way through the frustration is through experience. When we come to experience what the terms mean, rather than just trying to understand them. And if someone leads us through that experience, so much the better.
And so, Christ ascended in front of the disciples – but only as high as the clouds. Their perception stopped there, as though to say to the listener, “This is as far as your understanding needs to go.” And as they gazed the angels asked why, As though to say to the listener, “Be amazed, yes, but do not let your focus get lost trying to reason out this event. Simply look, and then turn back to Jerusalem, and wait for the comforter. John Calvin agrees. “And this seemeth to be the reason why the cloud did overshadow him, before such time as he did enter into his celestial glory; that his disciples being content with their measure might cease to inquire any further. And we are taught by them that our mind is not able to ascend so high as to take a full view of the glory of Christ; therefore, let this cloud be a mean to restrain our boldness, as was the smoke which was continually before the door of the tabernacle in the time of the law.” Further understanding comes not from the encounter of reason and words, but from the experience of Christ.

Having looked some at how we might understand the reading, how then might it affect us? Ascension sits in the Liturgical Year toward the end of the Easter season, near to Pentecost. As we go through the year each year, the celebrations are not simply a remembrance of words and deeds that Christ taught and did. Rather, they are our own present as we are ever made more fully one with Christ.
In the Athanasian Creed, we read that Christ, “Who, although he be God and Man, yet he is not two, but one Christ; One, not by conversion of the Godhead into flesh but by taking of the Manhood into God.” His path is not only on behalf of us, but also simply ahead of us.
The gift of the church is one aspect of the Grace through which God effects our salvation, not only once-and-for all, for we are already his and assured of eternal life with him, but also in that our time spent preparing for that eternal life is in fact time spent slowly living into it even now. And so, during the time of Lent, we purge and fast, and train our souls in virtue that at Easter, in the waters of Baptism, in the crossing of the Red Sea away from Egypt into the Promised Land: At Easter, when Christ “hath broken the gates of brass, and smitten the bars of iron in sunder,” we, with Christ, might die to the “old man” - the slavery to our passions, and emotions, and even our reason, that tyrant Pharoah: and break the gates with which they constrain us; and rise, not bound by the body, but governing it in unity with God. We take on ourselves the suffering of Christ in unity with him, and through that suffering we learn something more of the depths of the Compassion and Love of God for all creation.
Anthony Sparrow, a 17th c. English theologian says, “This day He opened the kingdom of Heaven to all believers, as we say daily in the Te Deum. Thus holy Church … In the Epistle … teaches us our duty not to stand gazing up to Heaven, wondring at the strangeness of the sight, but to take heed to demean our selves so, as that we may with comfort behold him at his second coming, his coming to judgment.” Our time now through Pentecost is not to stand gazing up to heaven – to a Rapture at the end of the world, or simply our own inevitable earthly deaths, waiting for our salvation to come to fruition. Rather it is to return to return to Jerusalem, and allow God's grace to change us into that which we behold. This is the season of Unity with God, of attaining (ever so slightly more!) the perfection, peace, tranquility, and trust, that God's grace is bringing us to.
Now, while we remain in these bodies on earth, that Unity will never be quite fully achieved, but every year as we relive these mysteries, and meditate on them, and bring them into ourselves, more and more of ourselves may be brought into the Kingdom of God. And because we cannot do this without God's Grace, we pray in the collect today, “Grant, we beseech thee, Almighty God, that like as we do believe thy only-begotten Son our Lord Jesus Christ to have ascended into the heavens; so we may also in heart and mind thither ascend, and with him continually dwell.”

What holy day could be more wonderful! But this has only probed some small portion of the depths of this day. As I was looking at paintings of the Ascension, I noticed two major approaches. The more common, shows Christ, full body and radient, risen just above the disciples heads. But a slightly less frequent portrayal, from mediaeval icons up to the present, highlights Jesus' feet. In the oldest versions that I've seen, the disciples gaze up at a lone cloud from which a pair of feet emerge. Salvador Dali painted Christ suspended with arms outstretched – but with the viewer looking straight up at his feet from below, obscuring most other details about him. This imagine intrigues me, and has a “ring of truth” to it – but I haven't been able to discern yet what that special truth is. The angels announced that Jesus would “come in the same way” they saw him leave – which I haven't examined it all. But what I am extremely comforted by is the knowledge that Jesus ascended into heaven with a human body that we might not doubt that we also may, while in our bodies, be united with God in Heaven.

Ascension Day Sermon by The Rev. Mr. Michael Shirk is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

A sermon

The Rev. Mr. Michael Shirk
March 3, 2011
Deuteronomy 5:1-22, 2 Corinthians 12:11-21, Matthew 7:13-21

Enter ye in at the straight gate…because straight is the gate, and narrow the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.

This way which leads to life is what Christ came to show us. In another gospel passage he said that he came that we might have life, and have it abundantly. The nature of this Life can only be alluded to, but if one is to see a reason to follow this narrow path, one must know something about what one is aiming toward. The Life in Christ is a life inspired by Love, the Love that drives out fears and subjection to passions; a Love that knows that one is made in the image of God, and Love that can only come from being loved as a Son, though undeserving. A Love that knows that all others are also made in the image of God, and sees itself reflected in them.

How are we to interpret the straight gate and the narrow path? What about the way that leads to life is hard to find? I'm reminded of Little Red Riding hood, as she's portrayed in the musical "Into the Woods."

"Into the woods, the path is straight;
no reason then to hesitate…"

I think the narrow path is not so difficult to find per se, but rather is it difficult to remain on. It doesn't take long before the wolf, clothed in the wool, or perhaps simply the nice words of a sheep, appears to lead us to the side. And the side is nice. Those of you who were with me in Boston two weekends ago will recall every time we passed across the "straight way" leading toward Trinity Church, the wind picked up terribly. Going aside from the path provides shelter, and interesting things to see. Until trained, our minds and passions are easily distractible.

"Mother said not to stray,
still I suppose a small delay…
Granny might like a fresh bouquet…"

The commandments given in the first reading are the beginning of training the will to focus. The image of the wind blowing down the path is similar to a saying of Amma Theodora, one of the desert mothers. "Amma Theodora said, 'let us strive to enter by the narrow gate. Just as trees, if they have not stood before the winter's storms cannot bear fruit, so it is with us; this present age is a storm and it is only through many trials and temptations that we can obtain an inheritance in the kingdom of heaven.'"

How are we to respond to these trials and temptations, in a way to bear fruit after the winter winds? Verse 12, which precedes today’s passage says, "Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye so to them." That is indeed a rough wind to withstand.

Here we can pivot to the image Christ gives of the fruit-bearing trees. Those false prophets who would lead us from the straight path, offering us shelter from wind, seducing us with Christian words and good promises – how are we to know them? They aren't necessarily obvious, for Christ warns: "Take heed." He answers that we shall know them by their fruit. Not by their words, "For not everyone who says, ‘Lord, Lord’": but by their deeds. And not, furthermore, by those deeds which are easily feigned: for even an evil tree can fast, or give alms, or pray. These, the "Sheep’s clothing", while proper to the sheep, are the very same adopted by the wolves to mislead. We see this in those "religious" people the media loves to show, and who would sow doubts in us, claiming that their difficult path is thus the narrow one, or seek to sway our rulers to divert our attention from the path. Rather what the discerning eye should look for is the Fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. These are the fruit of a good tree, the traits of the true sheep that the wolf cannot emulate.
And so, we know some of what will seek to take us from the narrow path to the straight gate; and we know some of how to discern if others are a help or a hindrance on the path. How does one best stay on the path? By keeping one's sight fixed on the Christ. Many of you have probably experienced when driving that it's easiest to run onto the shoulder when looking to either side; but focusing on a distant landmark helps keep you driving straight Although in today’s Gospel he says that the way that leads to life is hard; yet in another place he says that his burden is easy and his yoke light. St. John Chrysostom reconciles these by saying that a soldier doesn't mind his injuries when serving his prince, and so our burden is light when struggling toward the city where our Lord resides.

One final interpretation is provided by Alan Watts. In his "Myth & Ritual in Christianity," he sees the narrowness of the gate as being the present. And certainly, Now is the only time we have to meet our God. As the liturgy repeats throughout the seasons: Now is high time to awake out of sleep: for Now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. A great and wondrous mystery is made known to us this day. Arise, shine, for your light is come. Behold, Now is the acceptable time. This is the day that the Lord hath made... In his view, the broad way to either side is awaiting a future that is not yet here – (Tomorrow will bring its own worries) or dwelling in a past that no longer ought to have power – (I have brought you out of Egypt.) This way of looking at it is supported by the fact that Jesus says the way is narrow that leads to Life, – not to "eternal life." "The living, the living, he shall praise thee, as I do this day."

No matter how far we may stray, though, our Lord is always ready to help us back to the path. Little Red Riding-Hood fell victim to the wolf, straying off the straight path; but even having been consumed by the wolf, she was not beyond redemption by the Woodcutter. And so she then sang,

"So take extra care with strangers,
Even flowers have their dangers;
And though scary is exciting:
Nice is different than Good."