Opposite equals

FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings & Summary

The Epistle: 1 Thessalonians 5:13b-24 (25-28)

Paul encourages believers to be kindhearted to one another; to rejoice, pray, and be thankful ceaselessly; to hold on to the good; and that our whole selves “be preserved blameless” when Christ comes.

The Gospel—Luke 1:39-45

An expectant Mary visits her relative Elizabeth, who herself is pregnant with John the Baptist.  John leaps for joy in his mother’s womb at Mary’s greeting.  Elizabeth blesses both Mary and her unborn child, Jesus.

Reflection

We’re at the Sunday before Christmas, the last Sunday of Advent, and today we have a little bit of a rewind.  Whereas last week we encountered a grown-up (and imprisoned) John, unsure as to whether Jesus is the Messiah, this week we go way back, even before his birth.  According to the mythic story, the unborn John hears Mary’s greeting, and he leaps for joy inside his mother’s womb, somehow certain that the Redeemer is near.

It seems like John has always been quite the fiery character.  When we next meet him, he’s in the desert, eating locusts and wild honey, shouting at the top of his lungs for people to repent and prepare the way of the Lord.  He’s not afraid to call his own people out on their corruption, and certainly not afraid to confront King Herod for marrying his brother’s wife.  This is in stark contrast to Mary who, while actually bearing God’s Word inside her own womb, says not a word in today’s Gospel reading.

Mary is, for the most part, the exact opposite of John the Baptist.  Whereas John points outward to the Coming One, Mary receives him inward.  John is loud and boisterous.  Mary is humble and quiet.  John cries out, curse after warning, after criticism.  Mary is certainly not afraid to speak or ask questions, but mostly she listens, using her words wisely.  And yet, these two opposites were the first to accept and to proclaim the good news—equally.  Mary received and bore the Word to the world, and John paved the way for others to receive him.  They worked together, doing different things for the same divine goal.

There isn’t only one way to receive the Christ-child into our hearts.  There isn’t only one way to bring good news to others.  What we learn from John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary—and indeed the overall narrative of the Bible—is that God uses our innate character, our unique talents, and even our shortcomings, and transforms them, according to God’s greater purpose.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

In the story, God worked through the distinct personalities of John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary.

What are your unique talents?  What can you do, that no one else can?

How can you use your unique talents for the good of others?  For the good of yourself?

John and Mary, despite being the first to receive the good news, never share a face-to-face scene together.

Do you think they would’ve gotten along?  Why or why not?

How do you get along with others whose personalities differ from yours?

Can you still work together for the common good?  Or is it better to collaborate from a distance?

Prayer of the Day

Purify our conscience, Almighty God,

by your daily visitation,

that your Son Jesus Christ, at his coming,

may find in us a mansion prepared for himself;

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect for the “Sunday before Advent” from the Gallican Sacramentary; used for Advent 4 in the Book of Common Prayer, 1979

O Lord our God,

we pray that we all may rejoice with upright hearts,

assembled in the unity of faith,

so that at the coming of your Son our Savior,

we may, unblemished,

run to meet him in the company of his saints;

through the same Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

—Collect for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, from the Gelasian Sacramentary

Hymn: “People, look east,” Eleanor Farjeon, 1928

Worship song: “O come, O come, Emmanuel,” Enya, 2008

Grateful

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings & Summary

The Epistle: Colossians 4:2-6

An imprisoned Paul (or someone writing in his name) asks believers to continue in prayer, walk in wisdom, speak gracefully, and make the most of their time.

The Gospel—Luke 7:18-28

John the Baptist—from prison, according to Matthew—asks if Jesus is the Coming One.  Jesus responds with all the miracles and healings he has done, and confirms that the Baptist is the prophet spoken of in Hebrew Scripture. 

Reflection

Twenty years ago, a driver picked up a hitchhiker in Virginia, but a car accident claimed the lives of both young men.  The driver was identified, but the passenger had nothing on him except a mysterious note, which possibly named him as “Jason”, and two tickets to a nearby Grateful Dead concert.  So began the case of “Grateful Doe”.

I heard of this case about a decade ago, and was mystified by its bizarre story.  Time passed, leads were exhausted, and hundreds of missing men had been ruled out.  Websleuths.com had dozens of pages of people devoted to solving this case—but to no avail.  Then last January, a post on Imgur.com led a man to share photos of a “Jason” he had befriended around 1994—photos which strikingly resembled the sketch of “Grateful Doe.”  In April, a woman saw those pictures and believed them to be of her missing half-brother.  She was shocked to discover an entire online community searching possibly for the same person she’d been trying to find for years.  After submitting DNA samples, her family could do nothing else but wait for the results.

What is it like to wait for something like that?  To have to wait for a life-changing answer for months, even years?  John the Baptist certainly knew that type of waiting.  Indeed, so did all of Israel.  After centuries under foreign rule—including decades under Rome—Israel longed for redemption, freedom, and peace.  John the Baptist thought he’d once found the Liberator, but today he asks, “Are you the one who is coming, or should we look for another?”  Luke doesn’t set this scene in prison, as Matthew does, but it’s clear that John has returned to the familiar prison of doubt, fear, and despondency.

Are we much different from John, 2,000 years later?  With everything going on in the world lately, how can we not question everything we’ve been taught?  Many have decided that Jesus’ way is not enough, and so they now look for another.  I can’t blame them.  I certainly don’t feel redemption, freedom, and peace when I hear of yet another mass shooting or terrorist attack.  But Advent gives us room to honor all of these valid feelings—even as it points forward to the Christ-child, reminding us that his way of selfless love, humility, and peace is possible.  That reminder doesn’t banish all doubt and fear from me—but it balances my perspective, and brings me comfort.

For Jason’s family, the waiting is over.  Last week, DNA results confirmed that “Grateful Doe” is indeed Jason—Jason Patrick Callahan.  My heart and my prayers go out to them in this difficult time—and yet, I feel relieved for them too.  They know now that Jason’s suffering is over.  It ended twenty years ago.  He has not been angry or resentful towards his loved ones this whole time.  He hasn’t been in danger, nor lost, nor hurt, nor unaware of who he is, or any number of dreadful things.  He has been at peace.  He is at peace.  There is closure now; they are free from prison, and on the path towards healing and comfort.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

Advent is typically observed as a season of joyful anticipation—so “prison talk” may seem a little out of place here.

What, if anything, do you feel imprisons you?

What is your jail cell like? Your daily routine as a prisoner?

How would you feel, knowing that freedom was on its way?

The Reflection focused more on John’s prison of doubt and disheartenment—but Paul has a different attitude in his prison.

How do you act in your own prison?

Do you allow yourself room to be honest with your feelings?

Can you, even in shackles, still reach out to others in hope and inspiration?

Prayer of the Day

Arise in your might, O Lord, we pray you, and come.

Summon your strength, hasten to our rescue,

and assist us with your grace,

for we are immersed in sin without escape.

Look gently upon us in your forbearance,

so that once again we can live, move, and have our being;

through your Son Jesus Christ, our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect #3 for the Third Sunday of Advent in the Lund Missal (1514)

Hymn: “Savior of the nations, come,” Ambrose (4^th cent.), Martin Luther (16^th cent.)

Worship song: “Everlasting God,” Brenton Brown

Watching for signs

SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings & Summary

The Epistle: James 5:7-9

We must be patient and strong-hearted as we wait for the coming of the Lord.

The Gospel—Mark 13:24-37

Signs in the heavens will foretell the coming of the Son of Man.  No one knows the day or the hour, so we must keep watch.

Reflection

It seems incredible that we begin the Advent Season here in the United States with two mass shootings in the United States, one at the Planned Parenthood clinic in Colorado Springs on November 27, and the second at San Bernardino on December 2.  In the span of six days, 17 people lost their lives.  I’m also reminded of another Advent mass shooting, the one at Sandy Hook Elementary School on December 14, 2012, in which one man killed 28 people, many of them children, before finally killing himself.  I can’t believe that happened almost three years ago.  I could’ve sworn it was last year, or maybe the year before that—so burned it became in my memory.

Jesus in today’s Gospel talks about signs of the End Times.  There are some who point to the current rise in violence and terrorism as other signs of the End.  I don’t subscribe to that belief, but with the shootings here, and the recent attacks in Paris, Lebanon, Nigeria, and others, I have to say there’s a part of me that wishes the End would just come.  In my heart, I don’t think God is finished with us yet.  I still believe that there is more good in the world than bad.  We see it in the ensuing outpouring of support and compassion.  But what do we do when the brutality and the senselessness of these killings is just too overwhelming?

The Gospel cautions us to “watch, keep alert.”  What does that mean?  Are we supposed to sit still, eyes fixed in one direction, just waiting?  I don’t think so.  To do that would mean we’d let most of our lives—and the world—just pass us by.  No, Jesus does not call us to inertia.  I think keeping alert—keeping awake—means being mindful, living in the present, aware of the moment.  It’s also a call to action.  If we accept mass shootings and terrorist attacks as simply the way things are; that there’s nothing we can do about them, or learn from them; or that we’re not part of a system that facilitates violence, then we’re no longer “awake” to the lessons—the signs—they have to teach us.  We become like those who are caught “sleeping” when the Lord comes, caught by surprise when the day of reckoning comes.

Knowing that we can’t right the wrongs of the world by ourselves should not be discouraging.  We’re also called to be patient and strong-hearted.  To do that, we have to realize what’s in our power and what is not.  But if we discern the signs closely enough, I think we’ll all find that there’s more we can do while we wait for justice and redemption.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

Mindfulness and living in the present are central themes in Buddhism.  Knowing what’s in our power and what’s not is the foundation of Stoic philosophy.

How can ideas from other traditions shed insight into our own path?

How can we use that knowledge to bridge the gaps between us? To quell aggression and foster understanding?

The Gospel talks about watching for signs in the heavens.

Do you believe in signs?

What message or meaning do you read behind certain events or occurrences?

Do you take a moment to appreciate the various coincidences or synchronicities you encounter in your life?

Prayer of the Day

Keep us, O Lord our God, we pray you,

ever watchful and eager for the coming of your Son,

so that when he knocks,

he may not find us asleep in our sins,

but watching and rejoicing in his praises;

through the same Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect #2 for the First Sunday of Advent in the Book of Common Worship (1993)

Waken our hearts, O Lord,

so that we may prepare the way for your only-begotten Son.

Graciously keep us in your service,

and cleanse our hearts for his arrival;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect for Advent 2 in the Lund Missal, 1514; ultimately from the Collect for the “Sunday before Advent” in the 5^th-century Gelasian Sacramentary

Hymn: “Hark! A thrilling voice is sounding”, Latin traditional, 5th-century

Worship song: “You'll come”, Hillsong

Full of surprises

FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings

The Epistle—1 Corinthians 3:16-23

We are God’s temple, and God’s Spirit lives in us.  We should seek the Wisdom of God, and not of the world.  All things belong to believers, we belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God.

The Gospel—Mark 11:1-11 (12-18)

The week before Passover, Jesus enters Jerusalem riding a colt, and is hailed as the One who comes in the name of the Lord.  Afterwards, he cleanses the Temple.

Reflection

You may notice a change in the format of this blog.  Currently I’m testing out different ways to make this blog more interactive and engaging.  I believe that the Christian message is a unique blend of ancient wisdom that has something to say to everyone, regardless of spiritual background.  In short, I’m not looking to proselytize or to convert; I’m more interested in exploring the ways that tradition and modernity intersect, and how ancient words and ideas can still speak to us today.  I want to contribute to the same interfaith dialogue and exchange that has inspired my own life.  And I figured that the first Sunday of Advent, the beginning of the liturgical year, would be the perfect time to start.

This year will also feature a set of readings I have chosen to supplement the Historic Lectionary, which I used last year.  This move comes as a result of a compromise between the need to preserve the themes of the traditional liturgical year, and a desire to look for those same themes in other parts of Scripture, and not just use the same texts over and over.

And so we come back full circle—to Palm Sunday in Advent.  As I wrote last year, I believe this out-of-season reference is deliberate.  Many first-century Judeans hailed Jesus as the Messiah, expecting that he would forcefully overthrow Roman rule.  His death barely a week later shattered those hopes, but gave life to a different kind of hope.  Similarly, last week we had the vision of Christ coming to the world as King and Judge on the Last Day.  But now, a week later, the start of Advent reminds us of a different coming of Christ, namely as a newborn child, given his first day of life.  

The message is clear.  God is full of surprises.  When we clamor for God to come in judgment, wrath, and even violence, God surprises us by coming to us in humility, peace, and even helplessness.  And when we’re eager for God to intervene directly in the world, God reminds us that we, too, are a world unto ourselves.  As English writer and polymath Thomas Browne once put it, “There is no man alone, because every man is a microcosm, and carries the whole world about him.”  After all, one of the first things Jesus did when he got to Jerusalem was to enter the Temple and cleanse it—and Paul reminds us that we are God’s temple, and that God lives in us.

Advent reminds us that God already has intervened in the world—not just once, through one unique life long ago, but also by entering directly into all our lives, our own worlds, every day.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

The Judeans greeted Jesus as their king and liberator, the one who would eject Rome from Jerusalem.

How do you greet God (Spirit, the Higher Power, the Universe, Life, etc.) every morning?

How do you imagine your Higher Power comes to you?  With goodness? Triumph? Salvation? Healing? Wrath? Judgment?

What might your answer say about yourself?

Do you leave room for Life’s surprises?

How do you welcome the new day?  Is it a fresh start?  Is it a burden?

Do you meet it head on, or does it feel distant, lost in the crowd?

Paul says that we are God’s temple, and God’s Spirit lives within us.

In this season of preparation for Christ’s birth, do you really believe or act like you are God’s temple?

What does that even mean—to be God’s temple?  To have the Divine dwelling inside you, even now?

How do you honor the body you have?

If an estranged loved one suddenly were to arrive, what would they say upon meeting you?

Do you need a little “temple”-cleaning?

Prayer of the Day

Eternal God,

through long generations you prepared a way

for the coming of your Son,

and by your Spirit

you still bring light to illumine our paths.

Renew us in faith and hope,

that we may welcome Christ to rule our thoughts

and claim our love,

as Lord of lords and King of kings,

to whom be glory always.

Amen.

—Collect #2 for the First Sunday of Advent in the Book of Common Worship (1993)

Hymn: “Come, O long expected Jesus”, by Charles Wesley

Worship Song: “Hosanna (Praise Is Rising)”, by Paul Baloche

Hard questions

SUNDAY BEFORE ADVENT

(Christ the King; the Reign of Christ)

Readings:

Revelation 19:4-9

Matthew 25:31-46

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Rev. 19:6b-7: “Hallelujah!  For the Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns!  Let us rejoice and be exceedingly glad, and let us give the glory to him.”

Matt. 25:34-36: “Then the King will tell those on his right hand, ‘Come, blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you… for I was hungry, and you gave me food to eat.  I was thirsty, and you gave me drink.  I was a stranger, and you took me in.  I was naked, and you clothed me.  I was sick, and you visited me.  I was in prison, and you came to me.’”

Reflection

Where were you when Paris was attacked on Friday, November 13^th?  I heard the news in Philadelphia, where I had been catching up with college friends, whom I hadn’t seen in over eight years.  Immediately I thought of where I was on September 11^th, when, ironically, I was in college with one of those same friends.  Moments of sudden tragedy and bloodshed have a way of becoming part of us, snapshots in time that sear themselves into our minds and hearts, resurfacing when we least expect them.

In its wake, the attack on Paris, which claimed about 130 lives, has stirred up tensions worldwide regarding some very delicate and complex issues, such as how to respond to the Islamic State, terrorism, the Syrian refugee crisis, and general opinions about Muslims.  France launched an air strike against the Islamic State, bombing one of their main cities.  European and American borders began to tighten, with some officials calling for heavier screening of migrants, and others simply refusing them entry.  It doesn’t help that one of the terrorists may have entered Europe as a refugee.  That reality, in turn, served to fuel popular backlash against Muslim communities, many of which themselves condemn the attacks as contrary to the spirit of Islam.

And into the midst of all of this, comes the last Sunday of the church year, on which we celebrate “Christ the King” or “the Reign of Christ.”  The feast day itself is relatively new (from the early 1900s), but mixes in themes of the “End Times” or the “Final Judgment”, which are appropriate to the last Sunday of the liturgical year.  Thus today’s appointed Gospel is a vision of that Final Day when Christ the King rewards those who treated strangers with compassion and selflessness, saying that “because you did it to one of the least of these… you did it to me.”

Ouch.  For me, if ever a confluence of events serves to test and challenge my faith, this is it—because I am convinced that the general reaction to the Paris attacks is incongruent with the Christian message.  The enthroned Christ, who is King of all, clearly encourages his followers to see him, not in that majestic glory, but in the eyes and hearts of the hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, and imprisoned.  And this is not the only place he does that—the Parable of the Good Samaritan comes to mind too, where he encourages us to treat an enemy like a friend.  And yet, how do we look for Christ in the eyes and heart of someone who is bent on causing harm?  Someone who exploits the genuine suffering of others in order to sneak in and kill indiscriminately?

As fewer and fewer people in Western culture identify as religious, maybe these questions don’t matter as much.  But for us who follow Jesus, we have to ask ourselves—can we love our enemy without hating our friend?  Yes, we must always speak out against discrimination and prejudice.  But it takes two to practice nonviolence, and so we also have an obligation to listen to those who have genuine concerns about safety and logistics.  And we also have to confront our own hypocrisy.  I can’t refuse to admit refugees into my country when my own Savior was once denied shelter.  But I also can’t criticize those who would close their borders, when I’m not prepared to open the doors to my own home.  Maybe the answers lie in asking the hard questions; in trying sincerely to understand a different point of view; in sifting through what lies at the heart of all of us, and seeking that common ground that enables us to come together, and truly start to act like the blessed ones of the Father.

Prayer of the Day

Almighty and everlasting God,

it is your will to restore all things

in your well-beloved Son,

the King of kings and Lord of lords.

Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth,

divided and enslaved by sin,

may be freed and brought together

under his most gracious rule;

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and forever.

Amen.

—Collect “Of the Reign of Christ” from the Book of Common Prayer.

Almighty God,

none can make void your sovereign purpose.

Give us faith to be steadfast

amid the tumults of the world,

knowing that your kingdom shall come,

and your will be done,

to your eternal glory;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and forever.

Amen.

—Collect #2 for the “33^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time” from the Book of Common Worship.

Hymn: “At the name of Jesus”

(Words: Caroline Maria Noel, 1817-1877; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015

Tune: ‘King’s Weston’, by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1872-1958)

At the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow,

Every tongue confess him King of glory now.

It’s the Father’s pleasure we should call him Lord,

Who from the beginning was the mighty Word.

Humbled for a season to receive a Name

From the lips of sinners, down to whom he came,

Faithfully he bore it spotless to the last,

Brought it back victorious, when from death he passed;

Bore it triumphant with its human light,

Through all ranks of creatures, to the central height,

To the throne of Godhead, to the Father’s breast,

Filled it with the glory of that perfect rest.

Name him, Christians, name him with love as strong as death.

Name with awe and wonder and with bated breath.

He is God the Savior, he is Christ the Lord,

Ever to be worshipped, trusted and adored.

In your hearts enthrone him; there let him subdue

All that is not holy, all that is not true.

Crown him as your Captain in temptation’s hour.

Let his will enfold you in its light and power.

Christians, this Lord Jesus shall return again

With his Father’s glory over earth to reign,

For all wreaths of empire meet upon his brow,

And our hearts confess him King of glory now.

Finish line (the vision of God)

TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY

Readings:

Colossians 1:3-14

Matthew 9:18-22

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Col. 3:9-11:  “[B]e filled… in all spiritual wisdom and understanding… to please [God] in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work… strengthened with all power… for all endurance and perseverance with joy…”

Matt. 9:22: “But Jesus, turning around and seeing her, said, ‘Daughter, cheer up!  Your faith has made you well.’  And the woman was made well from that hour.”

Reflection

Here we are at the finish line, at the last of the traditional 24 Sundays after Trinity, at the end of our self-struggles, the passions that rage within us, and the lessons we have needed to learn as people of faith.  Where has all of that led us?  To answer that, I will rely on Reverend David Phillips’ article, “The Rationale of the Trinity Season Lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer,” which I credit for not only having inspired me to write this blog, but also to explore the 1500-year-old wisdom that lies at the heart of our Christian tradition, wisdom that still speaks to us today.

We get a sense of completion or finality from the excerpt from the Letter to the Colossians.  Paul—or someone writing in his name—gives thanks to God for this congregation, not just because of their faith and hope in Christ, but also because of “the word of the truth of the Good News, which has come to you.”  And then, just as the keyword was “one” at the beginning of the union cycle seven weeks ago (“one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God…”), today it’s “all”: “all spiritual wisdom… all respects… every good work… all power… all endurance.”  After our long 24-week journey, we have reached the One who is the All, the One who gives All, the One “who delivered us out of the power of darkness, and translated us into the Kingdom of the Son of his love.”

What is it like to be brought over into the Kingdom of God?  Today’s Gospel presents us with a story—actually, two stories in one.  A ruler comes to Jesus because his daughter has died, but he has faith that if Jesus comes to her, she will live.  Along the way, a woman suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years, comes behind Jesus and secretly touches his garment, hoping to be healed.  Jesus turns around, looks at her, and tells her to “cheer up!  Your faith has made you well.”  Then, upon reaching the ruler’s house, he resurrects his dead daughter.  Well, that’s not quite true—the traditional excerpt from the Gospel deliberately cuts out the resurrection.  Rev. Phillips suggests that it’s “perhaps a sign that it is to be read allegorically,” and when we do, a treasure trove of mystical food for thought is opened.

The other Gospels tell us that the dead girl is twelve years old, the same number of years the older woman has suffered illness.  Are we supposed to make a connection between these two women?  Paul has told us earlier in this season that our old self has been crucified with Christ, and that we are now to put on our new self.  Is that what has happened?  Did our old self—represented paradoxically by the young, immature girl—die, and has our new self—the older, wiser woman—risen to new life?

In iconography, the bleeding woman is usually pictured near the ground, reaching for Jesus’ garment, and Jesus lifts her up to talk to her.  Can this also be a picture of the soul, worn after years of struggling with the passions, reaching out to God with her last bit of strength?

The bleeding woman reaches out to Jesus,
just as the soul continually reaches out to God.

Does God in Christ turn around and lift us up into the very fullness of God?  Are we assured that our final reward is the vision of God?  A God who raises us up into wellness, wholeness, and newness of life?

Jesus lifts up the woman into health,
just as God lifts up our souls into heaven.

They say it takes thirty days to create a new habit.  Does it take twelve years to conquer the passions and master ourselves?  Does it take twenty-four years to align our own fractured lives with God’s free flow of life and healing?  I don’t think we can say for sure; allegory takes us many places, but never towards literalism.  But the core message of this season has stressed that such progress is possible, if we commit to it.  Albert Einstein once defined insanity as “doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results.”  But what if we do the same thing over and over again, year after year, Trinity Season after Trinity Season, aiming for the same result, committed to the same goal?  Maybe that’s the definition of faith.  And when we believe that God is both our beginning and our end, suddenly our journey doesn’t seem so long.

Prayer of the Day

Lord, we pray you,

keep your household, the Church,

in continual godliness,

that, through your protection,

it may be free from all adversities.

and devoutly given to serve you in good works,

to the glory of your Name;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Original Collect for Trinity 24 from the 6^th-century Gregorian Sacramentary

Almighty God,

by our baptism into the death and resurrection

of your Son, Jesus Christ,

you turn us from the old life of sin.

Grant that we who are reborn to new life in him

may live in righteousness and holiness all our days;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

—A collect for “Daily renewal” in the Evangelical Lutheran Worship (2006).

Hymn: “Be now my vision”

(Words: early 8^th-century Irish hymn, translated to English prose by Mary Byrne, then versified as ‘Be thou my vision’ by Eleanor H. Hull in the 19^th century; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015

Tune: ‘Slane’, Irish ballad melody, arranged by David Evans)

Be now my vision, O Lord of my heart.

I seek nought else save the love you impart;

You, my best thought, by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, your presence my light.

Be now my wisdom, and be my true word;

I ever with you, and you with me, Lord.

You, my great Father, your own may I be;

I at one with you, you dwelling in me.

High King of heaven, when vict’ry is won,

May I reach heaven’s joys, bright heaven’s Sun!

Heart of my heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.

Living in the gray (union of lust)

TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY

Readings:

Philippians 3:17-4:1

Matthew 22:15-22

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Php. 3:18, 19: “For many walk… as the enemies of the cross of Christ, whose end is destruction, whose god is the belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who think about earthly things.”

Matt. 22:21: Jesus said to the Pharisees, “Give therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

Reflection

The encounter between Jesus and the Pharisees in today’s Gospel reading has always been one of my favorites.  It’s witty, short and to the point—very likely how the historical Jesus might’ve actually spoken.  The Pharisees try to trap Jesus with a false dichotomy, choosing loyalty either to God or to the Roman emperor.  Jesus doesn’t fall for it, but says simply that we need to give to the emperor and to God the things that belong to both of them.  Yes, his answer reminds me of the ambiguous answers politicians often give, but Jesus correctly perceives that life is not either/or, black-or-white.  While we live in this world, we’re called to live in the gray area, to figure out for ourselves what belongs to whom, and to give each no more, no less.

What does that example have to say for this last Sunday of uniting the passions to ourselves, specifically to the union of lust, which we explore today?  Again, remember that “lust” here is not restricted to sexual passion, but to all kinds of impulsive desires.  If our goal has been to re-align our passions with God’s will and free flow of life, then the answer becomes clear.  While we live in this world, we need to give in to some desires, but we give them no more, no less than is necessary.  We give in to the lust for food, not to become gluttonous, but to survive.  We give in to the lust for sex, not to become lost in pleasure, but to enjoy the gifts of partnership and love.  We give in to the lust for power, not to wield authority or control, but for the benefit of others.

Of course, living in the gray area is far from easy.  Jesus ultimately found himself on the cross when he decided what he would, and would not, give to this world.  I think this is what Paul refers to in the selected Epistle reading for the day.  He mentions—tearfully—“enemies of the cross of Christ.”  I don’t think that phrase is just a passing reference to persecutors of Christians.  I think it’s a warning to anyone who thinks life should be easy, comfortable, and pain-free, because that’s the exact opposite of the Christian message.  We know that to cross over into new life, we have to bear our cross in this life.  For most of us, our burdens won’t be as heavy as Jesus’, but it doesn’t mean they won’t weigh on us any less. 

We are more than just human.  We were made for more than this life.  That’s the truth that runs behind every spiritual tradition we’ve ever known as a human race.  But when we try to seek only what satisfies our impulses—serving the god of our belly, as Paul puts it—we run the risk of forgetting this spiritual truth.  We remain bound to “earthly things” because we begin to give more to the world than we should, instead of trying to do the hard work of self-monitoring that living in the gray calls us to.  Paul reminds us of our true home and our true Master—and next week, that’s precisely where we’re headed.  But for right now, in this present life, that realization is what we have to hold on to, so that, in times of trial, we don’t lose sight of who we really are.

So what happens now?  We’ve spent 23 Sundays living in the gray, purging ourselves of the wrongful use of our passions, seeking the light of Holy Spirit upon them, and finally becoming at one with ourselves and with God.  Where does this journey take us and what awaits us there?  What does it look like to step into the Presence of God as whole persons?  Paul writes that our mortal bodies of humiliation will be transformed to conform to Christ’s body of glory, by the same power that Christ uses to subject all things to himself.  That’s the hope we need to stand on; that’s the faith we need to take with us to the end of our journey.

Prayer of the Day

Grant, we pray you, merciful Lord, to your faithful people

pardon and peace,

that they may be cleansed from all their sins,

and serve you with a quiet mind;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Original Collect for Trinity 23 from the 6^th-century Gregorian Sacramentary

Banish our crimes, O Lord,

for we are in the dominion of adversity,

and keep us everywhere in your compassion;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect #2 from the 5^th-century Gelasian Sacramentary.

Hymn: “Eternal light, shine in my heart”

(Words: Christopher Idle, born 1938, from a prayer by Alcuin, eighth century; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero

Tune: ‘Jacob’ by Jane Manton Marshall, born 1924)

Eternal light, shine in my heart.

Eternal hope, lift up my eyes.

Eternal pow’r, be my support.

Eternal wisdom, make me wise.

Eternal life, raise me from death.

Eternal brightness, help me see.

Eternal Spirit, give me breath.

Eternal Savior, come to me;

Until by your most costly grace,

Invited by your holy word,

At last I come before your face

To know you, my eternal Lord.

Debt-free (union of greed)

TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY

(All Saints’ Day)

Readings:

Philippians 1:3-11

Matthew 18:21-35

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Php. 1:6, 7, 9: “He who began a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ… I have you in my heart… you all are partakers with me of grace… I pray that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and all discernment.”

Matt. 18:33: “Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, even as I had mercy on you?”

Reflection

We’re now in the final weeks of the Season after Trinity.  And, as we reach that end goal, a sense of finality, or of “wrapping things up,” begins to permeate the assigned readings, especially those from the Epistle.  About seven weeks ago, Paul prayed that we may “walk in the Spirit”, and that “Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.”  Now he is “confident” that “he who began a good work in you will complete it,” and that “you all are partakers with me of grace.”  There’s also the hint of a farewell that accompanies the close of any journey: “I thank my God whenever I remember you… I have you in my heart… I long after all of you.”  With just two more “passions” to go in this final cycle of union, we can feel that we are just steps away from entering into the mystical fullness of God.

Today we return the passion of greed, or covetousness, exploring it through yet another of Jesus’ parables.  Thankfully, this one is a little tamer and perhaps more relatable than that of the murderous king a few weeks ago!  Jesus likens the Kingdom of Heaven to a certain king who, moved with compassion, forgave the debt of a servant who couldn’t pay him back.  However, when this forgiven servant does not show that same compassion to one of his debtors, the king asks him “Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, even as I had mercy on you?”  Then the king delivered him “to the tormentors”—whoever they are—until he could repay the debt.

We can relate to this parable more because, sadly, we’ve all met people like the unforgiving servant, someone whose wrongdoing was excused, but who refused to “pay it forward.”  Maybe we’ve been that person ourselves, grateful recipients of compassion and forgiveness, but then unable or unwilling to give these to someone else in need.  Jesus says we need to forgive others not just seven times, but “seventy times seven,” and it’s funny to realize that none of the characters in his story ultimately did that.  The king is set up as a role model of forgiveness, but when he finds out about his servant’s hypocrisy, he changes his mind, reinstates the debt, and throws him into prison.  Had that been the king’s final straw?  The 490^th time that he’d forgiven that particular servant?

And while I ponder this point, another comes to mind—the connection that Jesus makes between forgiveness and debt.  We may have encountered this connection before.  Some versions of the Lord’s prayer, following Matthew’s version say “forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”  And traditionally, Christianity has claimed that Jesus’ sacrifice paid our debt of sin back to God.  I don’t subscribe to this “substitutionary theory of atonement,” but I do find merit in reading between the lines here.  The king in Jesus’ parable threw away the compassion he had felt for his servant, and in doing so, he became indebted to resentment, anger, revenge, and maybe even superiority.  And only forgiveness can cancel that debt.

“Forgiveness is unlocking the door to set someone free—and realizing you were the prisoner!” says Max Lucado.  And so we enter into union with greed/covetousness by releasing all debt.  We release others from the debts they owe us through their wrongdoing.  But, perhaps more importantly, we release ourselves from the debts we take on by bearing grudges, wanting to teach others a lesson, or holding on to anger and pain.  Again, our goal hasn’t been to completely get rid of the passions, but to realign them with God’s purpose.  So if we are to be covetous, then let’s covet others’ compassion and generosity—like the saints', whose day we celebrate today—and not forget these when others need them.  If we are to be greedy, then let’s be greedy for canceling the most debts, and not keep count of how many times we forgive.  That’s how we can become, in the words of today’s collect, “ready both in body and soul” to accomplish what God would have us do.

Prayer of the Day

Almighty God,

you have knit together your elect

in one communion and fellowship

in the mystical body of your Son, Christ our Lord.

Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints

in all virtuous and godly living,

that we may come to those ineffable joys

that you have prepared for those who truly love you;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who with you and the Holy Spirit

lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting.

Amen.

—Collect for All Saints’ Day, in the Book of Common Prayer, 1979

Almighty and most merciful God,

we pray you,

keep us, in your bountiful goodness,

from all things that may hurt us,

that we, being ready both in body and soul,

may cheerfully* accomplish those things

that you would have us do;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

*literally, “with open hearts/minds”

—Original Collect for Trinity 22 from the 6^th-century Gregorian Sacramentary.

Hymn: “Who are these like stars appearing”

(Words: “Wer sind die vor Gottes Throne” by Theobald Heinrich Schenck, 1656-1727; translation by Frances Elizabeth Cox, 1812-1897; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2013

Tune: ‘Zeuch mich, zeuch mich’, from Geistreiches Gesang-buch, 1698; harmony by William Henry Monk, 1823-1889)

Who are these like stars appearing,
These before God’s throne who stand?
Each a golden crown is wearing;
Who are all this glorious band?
Alleluia! Hark, they sing,
Praising loud their heav’nly King.

Who are these of dazzling brightness,
These in God’s own truth arrayed,
Clad in robes of purest whiteness,
Robes whose luster ne’er shall fade,
Ne’er be touched by time’s rude hand?
Whence comes all this glorious band?

These are they who have contended
For their Savior’s honor long,
Wrestling on till life was ended,
Following not the sinful throng;
These who well the fight sustained,
Triumph through the Lamb have gained.

These are they whose hearts were riven,
Sore with woe and anguish tried,
Who in prayer have often striven
With the God they glorified;
Now, their painful conflict o’er,
God has bid them weep no more.

These, like priests, have watched and waited,
Offering up to Christ their will;
Soul and body consecrated,
Day and night to serve Him still.
Now in God’s most holy place

Blest they stand before His face.

Wrestling with faith (union of sloth)

TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY

Readings:

Ephesians 6:10-20

John 4:46-54

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Eph. 6:10: “Finally, be strong in the Lord, and in the strength of his might… [P]ut on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and, having done all, to stand.”

John 6:49-50: “The nobleman said to [Jesus], ‘Sir, come down before my child dies.’  Jesus said to him, ‘Go your way.  Your son lives.’  The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him, and he went his way.”

Reflection

This week, Lutheran churches will observe “Reformation Day,” the commemoration of the day when Martin Luther challenged the religious authorities of his time, and changed the Universal Church forever.  The celebration isn’t restricted to Lutherans or even Protestants alone.  I’ve noticed in my own Episcopal church that we may sneak in “A mighty fortress is our God” somewhere into the Sunday nearest October 31^st.

The spirit of reform is most appropriate for this Sunday, which the traditional lectionary has set apart for the union of sloth.  You may remember that the passion of “sloth” is more than mere laziness; it’s negligence, indifference, or apathy towards what one ought to do.  It’s what can happen when we begin to rid ourselves of the passions; if we’re not careful, we can be left feeling nothing, numb.  But sloth can also happen when we’re bombarded by all the problems and shortcomings of this world.  The overburden shuts us down, paralyzes us, and keeps us in survival mode, where we struggle to just get through each day instead of looking for ways to change our situation.

That’s not what Martin Luther did, and that’s not what the writer of Ephesians tells us to do.  The Epistle presents our spiritual journey—even at this late stage of becoming one with God—as a “wrestling”, for which we must continue to “be strong.”  It’s a battle, and we have to “put on the whole armor of God,” “taking up the shield of faith,” “the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit.”  These militaristic undertones may be uncomfortable, but the image I get is of Jacob wrestling with the angel (or God), refusing to let go until he’s received a blessing.  The point is that faith is not always warm fuzzies; it’s also action, and maybe even warfare.

Faith was the centerpiece of Martin Luther’s theology.  In his view, we are made right with God only through our faith in God, and today’s Gospel reading supports that claim.  A nobleman begs to Jesus to heal his son.  Jesus remarks that people don’t believe without seeing, but then says that the child has been healed.  The nobleman believes first, and then his belief is confirmed by his servants’ news.  But look at what happens next.  The nobleman asks the servants at what hour his son was healed.  Their answer confirmed his belief that it was Jesus who healed his son, and not just coincidence.  For me, this supports that call to action.  Our journey doesn’t stop when faith comes.  There are still questions to be asked, and it’s okay to ask those questions, to seek answers, and look for confirmation.

So what do we do with sloth?  How do we make peace with negligence or apathy into our whole selves, or is that even something we should be doing?  In a way, I think we can.  Feeling the paralysis of overburden is a signal that we must, all the more, actively seek him who carries our burdens.  Feeling a numbness of heart is a call to remember that God is emotion, specifically hope and love.  The One who is above passion passionately and tirelessly seeks us nonetheless.  Whenever we feel empty on our journey, let us look up to the One who emptied himself for our sake.  God seeks us continually, not to leave us like the pre-Creation formless void, but to re-form us for his greater purpose.

Prayer of the Day

Almighty God, gracious Lord,

we thank you that your Holy Spirit

renews the church in every age.

Pour out your Holy Spirit on your faithful people.

Keep them steadfast in your word;

protect and comfort them in times of trial;

defend them against all enemies of the gospel;

and bestow on the church your saving peace;

through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and forever.

Amen.

—Collect for “Reformation Day” (October 31^st) in Evangelical Lutheran Worship, p. 58

O God,

forasmuch as we are unable to please you,

mercifully grant that your Holy Spirit

may, in all things, direct and rule our hearts;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Original Collect for Trinity 21 from the 6^th-century Gregorian Sacramentary.

Hymn: “A mighty fortress is our God”

(Words: Martin Luther, 1483-1546, based on Psalm 46; English translation by Frederick Henry Hedge 1805-1890; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2013

Tune: ‘Ein feste Burg’, melody by Martin Luther; harmony by Johann Sebastian Bach, 1685-1750)

A mighty fortress is our God,

A bulwark never failing.

Our help and shield amid the flood

Of mortal ills prevailing,

For still our ancient foe

Yet seeks to work us woe.

His craft and power are great,

And, armed with cruèl hate,

On earth he has no equal.

Did we in our own strength confide,

Our striving would be losing,

Were not the right man on our side,

The man of God’s own choosing.

You ask who that may be?

Christ Jesus, it is he,

The Lord of Hosts, his Name,

From age to age the same,

And he must win the battle.

And though this world, with devils filled,

Should threaten to undo us,

We will not fear, for God has willed

His truth to triumph through us.

The prince of darkness grim,

We tremble not for him;

His rage we can endure,

For lo! his doom is sure,

One little word shall fell him.

That word is, o’er all earthly powers,

No thanks to them, abiding.

The Spirit and the gifts are ours,

For Christ is with us siding.

Let goods and kindred go,

This mortal life also,

The body they may kill,

God’s truth shall triumph still.

God’s kingdom is forever.