Final Sermon as Curate of All Souls

[1] Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, [2] Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
                                                                  - Hebrews 12:1-2

Today's epistle picks up on last week's reading from Hebrews 11 which contains the definitive explanation of faith: “faith is the substance of things hoped for , the evidence of things not seen.” Faith is the spiritual vision to see the things of eternity and trust in the reality of God's providence and promises. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews says that faith is not something that God invented in the New Testament. Rather there is a legacy of faith in the great men and women of the Old Testament. Abraham, for example, believed God's promise for a son, even though he and his wife were of advanced age. He believed that he and his progeny would inherit a home, even though he wandered as a stranger and sojourner in the land of Palestine. The author goes on to name other great figures of the Old Testament who belong to this hall of faith: Abel and Noah, Isaac and Jacob, Joseph and Moses. Each lived by faith. In today's lesson, the author concludes this passage by writing, “wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us run the race set before us”. Those who have gone before us in faith—including the major figures of the Old Testament—are this cloud of witnesses. They surround us and encourage us in this race of life and of faith. Ask any football player whether he would rather play in an empty stadium or in one filled with people. The fact is you play better, you run faster if you're being watched and cheered on. The author of the epistle says that the walk of Christian faith is not a solitary walk. We belong to a body, a corporation not just of those who are alive now in the church but of all faithful Christians throughout history, what the Apostles' Creed calls the communion of saints. The stained glass windows in a church are a concrete reminder that we are surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses.

The author of the Epistle has several things to say about this Christian walk of faith. First of all he says it is a race. Have you ever felt that life is one, long obstacle course? Or that your life goes from one crisis to the next? Or that the when of “when things finally settle down” never comes. The author to the Hebrews would acknowledge that life is an obstacle course and a battle. He says that the Christian life is a race. There is a race set before that we must run. Of course, there are different ways to approach this race, this obstacle course, and they are not all necessarily Christian. A friend reflected recently that there are two prevailing attitudes to life: one says that life is a prison; the other says that life is a classroom. If life is a prison, there are a variety of ways to cope with this reality. Some choose the route of escapism. Extreme forms of religiosity often are forms of escapism—we're biding our time for heaven and the life here and now has little or no significance. This is often just a method of avoidance in order not to face the painful, the awkward or the uncomfortable. Another reaction to the attitude that life is a prison is simply to try to make the prison more comfortable. People who take this path say that life is hard, so I am going to enjoy myself as much as I can in this dreadful place. My highest good will be pleasure, and it doesn't matter whom I hurt along the way. We've all known people who possess overwhelming material abundance and who are also quite miserable. We have all known others who went on a heedless pursuit of pleasure, only to end up miserable and alone. The ornaments of prison life don't change the fact that it is a prison. A third way of coping with life if it is a prison is intoxication. Alcohol, drugs, and even entertainment can all be used to drown ourselves in a sea of temporary forgetfulness. Maybe for a moment we will forget that we are in this prison. From this description it is apparent how many people—including ourselves at times—treat life as if it were a prison. The methods of escapism, materialism, and intoxication are generally pretty ineffective, especially as long term strategies. But there is this other attitude I mentioned, and I think it is the true Christian attitude to life. It says that life is a classroom, where God is shaping us and training us so that we might become more like him in our character. The Bible says that we are to be transformed into the image of God's Son, our Lord Jesus. The trials, tribulations, and crises of life are the means which God uses to bring about this transformation. Those trials are not the execution of punishment for us prisoners but the loving instruction and discipline of a heavenly Father for his children. The problem for many Christians is that they say they will start living into the Christian faith when life is easy or when they have the time. This is entirely the wrong mind-set. Our faith is most potent and living in the midst of life's dynamics. What we need to learn is how to live as Christians within the circumstances that we have been given rather than with the circumstances as we'd like them to be. An older friend in Albuquerque who is a widow often used to tell me that she would not mind dying, but that because she was still living, it was because God still had some more work to do on her. This attitude of acceptance of what life is rather than what we want it to be is precisely how we are called to live. The fruit of such an attitude is joy and gratitude. Life, my friends, is not a prison but a classroom.

Of course, we do not have the power of ourselves to run this race, or to run it in the way I am describing. Only God can give us the strength and endurance to finish this course. It means, as the epistle lesson indicates, we have to let go of the sin that is killing us, the sin, that as our authors writes, so easily besets us. Most importantly we have to look unto Jesus, “the author and finisher of our faith”. He is the beginning and end of our faith walk, and by his grace that we can live this life of faith. Many Christians understand what it means for Jesus to be the author of their faith, particularly if someone feels that he has been delivered from some addiction, some catastrophe or even from himself. But all too often the Christian attitude is, “Thanks God, I'll talk it from here.” Such Christians act as if our ongoing sanctification were a result purely of our effort. Such thinking is reflected in the theologically preposterous, popular country song “Me and God.” I'm sorry, you and God are not a team. Such thinking also produces silly slogans such as Jesus is my co-pilot. Only the most deluded of survivors would say that the helicopter pilot who rescued him from drowning is his co-pilot. According to the Epistle, Jesus is the author and finisher of our faith. He has gone the way of the cross. In other words, he knows the trials and tribulations of life, and in the midst of them gave himself wholly to his Father. It is the model for our own lives of faith in which we give ourselves to God in the midst of the storms of life. The truth is we don't get to see around the next corner in life. Usually our ability to predict these turns is middling at best. As Christians, we are called to keep on moving, keep on running the race, not worrying about what is around that next corner, knowing that there will be trials and troubles, but that we will have grace to live through them. This is the faith that Bonnie and I are trying to live into as we move to New Jersey and I take this new call to ministry. Like marriage, children or anything else in life, we can't really predict what it will be like, but as we trust in faith, we know that whatever troubles or difficulties come, God will lead us, he will instruction and shape us in this divine classroom of life. For all these things we can be joyful and grateful, just as we have been blessed to be here at All Souls.

Our last hymn this morning is a famous one: Martin Luther's A Mighty Fortress is our God. One of my favorite verses is the third one which speaks of the difficulties and trials of this life, this race that we are exhorted to run. The verse reads, And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us, We will not fear, for God hath 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, of course, is the mighty name of Jesus. He it is who is the author and finisher of our faith. It is to him and to the word of his grace that I commend you, my brothers and sisters, both for this life and the life to come.

Apocrypha 101

The first document compares the three different canons or sets of books deemed authoritative in the Jewish, Protestant and Roman Catholics faiths. Also included is a list of books in the Anglican Apocrypha, which as I note is a necessary part of a true King James Bible. The second document cites the Anglican view of the Apocrypha and gives a brief synopsis of each of the books.

Kids Bookcase from Recycled Wood

Over the past few years we have acquired a lot of children's books for our three children. We've been using an old press-wood bookcase from my dad's office that I've used for years. It shelves have for years bowed underneath the weight of too many books. The laminate back is coming off. And the whole thing looks like it may collapse at any moment. I actually cut an "insurance" board to put under the one of the shelves in case it came down--it's in the picture on the lower left. In sum, for some time I've been meaning build a replacement shelf (with additional space for more books!).

One of the great things about OKC is that they have big junk day. You can put out almost any large trash on the curb once a month and the city will remove it free of cost. It's an opportune time to scavenge the reusable and recyclable. There is invariably the parade of working-class men driving trucks full of spoils and often following behind is the curate of All Souls. One day I found about a dozen pieces of 1X12 pine paneling that were being thrown out. Another time, a neighbor who was moving threw out a stack of 1X6s that he did not want to move.The paneling was superficially in pretty rough shape. They were almost completely covered with paint on one side and had numerous nail holes. I used a heat gun to remove the paint and a surface planer to clean up the 1X12s and 1X6s.

After a couple Saturdays in the garage and in the "barn", we have a new book case to move to our new home made entirely of. . . trash!

For any that might be interested in the tools and methods used to build this, please refer to this earlier post on a cd shelf.

Sermon - Martha & Mary

          St. Luke 10:38-42

When we think of family traditions on holidays, we usually think of decorating Christmas trees, listening to music or playing certain games as a family. There are other holiday rituals that contrast with these yearly traditions. Every year Uncle gets drunk at the party, or the sisters get in a knock-out fight, or father picks on the black sheep yet again. I remember in my family of origin, my siblings and I had a yearly ritual on Thanksgiving. Whoever was doing the dishes would complain about how the others siblings were not helping enough. If two siblings were doing dishes together this complaining could be especially vicious. It gave us something to resent and be self-righteous about. Years later, I figured out our fallen nature feeds off of such contempt and resentment. Feeling smugly self-righteous is like the food we need to prop up our wounded and fallen humanity.

A somewhat similar situation unfolds in today's Gospel lesson. In the familiar story two sisters Mary and Martha have invite our Lord into their home. Martha is doing all the work to host Jesus, while Mary sits idly at his feet. Martha complains to our Lord about Mary's idleness, wanting him to change her behavior. Now I wouldn't go so far as to compare my siblings and my attitude at Thanksgiving to Martha. We're not told, but I think she does all of her activity with love for our Lord even if that love is imperfect. Nevertheless, Martha's attitude needed to be changed. You see, she believed that activity is a substitute for love. Activity, things we do for our children or others, can be an indication of love, but it cannot be a substitute. We have all known children who received all the material and physical comforts one could possibly imagine and yet felt unloved. Activity is no substitute for love. My activity at Thanksgiving had the appearance of loving service, but was merely a charade since it became the occasion to grumble about my siblings. Martha's activity was necessary and good, but it was no substitute for loving attention given to our Lord.

Very early in the interpretation of this passage, Martha's and Mary's dispositions were given names to characterize them: action and contemplation, Martha of course being action and Mary contemplation. The early Church fathers and later writers described the spiritual life as tending between these two poles of action and contemplation. Action is concerned with caring for others, helping the poor, building organizations and churches. Contemplation is that time and attention given to prayer and communion with God. I like the direct way St. Augustine describes the active and contemplative life. The active life, Martha, is that which seeks to feed ourselves and others. The contemplative life, Mary, is that which seeks to be fed by God. Of course, Martha and Mary are both necessary, action and contemplation are both necessary, but contemplation has to hold the preeminence. Why, you might ask? If activity is concerned with our physical and material needs in this world, we know that there is an end to that hunger: death. But the bread which God gives in contemplation is truth, peace, joy and gratitude. In other words, it is the food of eternal life.

I try to remind myself and young people that there is no end to wanting.   After acquiring the object of his desire, no materialist ever says that I have enough. Once possessed there is always more and more to possess. I think we are built in this way, in order to lead us to God. If the material things of this world satisfied us—if there was an end of wanting--then we would never turn to God or the things of eternity. But as it is, there is a hunger swelling in us, that can only be fed by this bread from God, really by God himself. If there is no end of wanting when it comes to material things, there is no end of activity when it comes the time we have been given to live. From the standpoint of human reasoning, it wouldn't be hard to argue that there is absolute necessity that someone needs to work seven days a week. In ceaseless activity we build an empire of capital and power and reputation. We forget however that this empire is doomed to die either with us or with some careless progeny. With so much demanding our attention these days, it is easy to be swept away by a torrent of activity. There is work, a home to care for, perhaps children and their activities, friends and family. Amongst all this activity it is easy to forget God and the things of eternity. In fact, in our day and age, I think the greatest obstacle to an awakening to the things of eternity is distraction. Even our leisure is simply another form of taxing activity so that it is easy to come back from vacation more exhausted then when you left.

My friends, our problem is not that we don't have enough activity, although it might be argued that our activity, like Martha's, lacks joy and the fullness of love. Rather, our problem is a lack of contemplation. We often fail to make the space to pray, worship and be fed by God. We are all Martha's who need to discover the joy of a Mary. For this reason it is critical that we gather every Sunday to worship God, to pray for those things that we need, and to receive the Bread of Life. From the perspective of the world's activity, a couple of hours on a Sunday morning (or Saturday evening) accomplish nothing. But together we are building a temple in time in which we can bring our attention and longing to God. What I am saying is that I am glad you are here. This is an excellent beginning, but we also daily need to have time with the Lord, time for contemplation. It can be a quiet prayerful walk, time reading the Bible, or simply praying in a quiet corner of your home. The reality of heaven and eternal life is not something we have to wait for. If eternity were completely removed from our lives here and now, heaven might as well be a pretend island of paradise. In this case, Heaven would be no different than a prisoner fantasizing about life on the outside. But eternity and the contemplation of God are gifts to us here and now. We simply need eyes to see and hearts to receive these gifts. Do you remember those famous lines from William Blake: To see a world in a grain of sand, / And a heaven in a wild flower,/ Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,/ And eternity in an hour. Eternity begins now as we turn our attention and devotion to God. It is to this contemplation that we are called, offering our bodies and souls and all our lives to Christ our God.

Trinity Sunday Sermon

This has been a hard week for our city and our community. The storms and tornadoes that struck Moore and a number of communities near the Oklahoma City is unsettling even for those who have lived here their entire lives. There are no easy explanations in a time like this. Adversity and trial demand of us faith that God is working his purposes even if we are unable to grasp what they may be. Especially with the death of children, faith is difficult to find. There is a simple, but beautiful prayer in the prayer book service for the burial of a child. It reads, ALMIGHTY and merciful Father, who dost grant to children an abundant entrance into thy kingdom; Grant us grace so to conform our lives to their innocency and perfect faith, that at length, united with them, we may stand in thy presence in fulness of joy. A trial like this can be an occasion to remind ourselves of a few important lessons. For example, the things of this world are highly unstable. We expect permanence from material things and even, when not confronted with mortality, act as if we are permanent and will never die. The things of this world crumble to pieces in a moment. In the face of such sudden change we have to ask ourselves where is our faith and trust placed? A second lesson is that we often assume that a happy life is a long one. We are mistaken. A blessed and happy life is one that is lived with love and devotion to God and kindness and pity for our neighbors. The author of the Apocryphal book of Wisdom reminds us of this fact when he wrote 2000 years ago that “The righteous man, though he die early, will be at rest. For honourable age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor that is measured by number of years. But wisdom is the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age. . . The good man, being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled a long time” (4.7-9,13). My friends, death often does not give us a warning of its visitation, and so while we live, we must live well, and treat our time to live as the gift that it is. Finally, it is moving to see how many people have reached out to help those who have been affected. This outpouring of love is, as Fr. Petley reminded us a few weeks ago, the way that we are to live as human beings. The expressions of care and generosity we have seen are the way we were created to live rather than the usual callousness and indifference that characterizes our fractured world. The common element in all these expressions of love is self-offering. People showing up and saying how can I help? A similar self-offering is evident in the work of Stephen Ministry. This ministry is not about dispensing advice, money or gifts. It is a simple self-offering of time and attention to someone enduring the inevitable trials of life. For all the self-offerings we have seen this week, we gives thanks to our Lord who has left us the prime example of self-offering in his cross and passion.

Turning now to today's feast, the day is set aside as a feast of the Feast of the Holy Trinity. It is not the day in which the doctrine of the Trinity should be reduced to palpable images or figures. No doubt you've heard of the ice, liquid water, and water vapour image as a metaphor for the Trinity. When we speak of the three persons of the Trinity—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost—we are not speaking of different parts or changing states of God. One of the most helpful phrases on the doctrine of the Trinity comes from what is called the Athanasian Creed. It states in part, “the Catholick Faith is this: That we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity; Neither confounding the Persons : nor dividing the Substance.”

The purpose of this feast becomes more when we consider where it falls in the course of the church year. The Feast of the Trinity comes at the end of a long string of feasts that celebrate chronologically the life of our Lord The church year begins with Advent in December. Advent anticipates the second and first comings of our Lord Jesus. His nativity is celebrated at the end of Advent with the 12 days of Christmas. Epiphany—the manifestation of Jesus as both God and man—follows in January and February. In the next season Lent, we recollect our Lord's temptation in which he faced and overcame all the temptations common to man. The climax of Lent is Holy Week and the commemoration of our Lord's last days, his crucifixion and triumphant resurrection on Easter Day. Forty days after Easter Sunday, we remember that Jesus ascended into heaven where he intercedes for us and from where he sends his disciples the Spirit. Ten days later on Pentecost—last Sunday—the church gives thanks for the coming of the Holy Spirit upon the apostles and the church. From Advent to Pentecost we remember the events by which we confess that God entered into history to save humanity from sin and death. The crown of these successive events is Trinity Sunday. Trinity Sunday follows this yearly re-telling of salvation history in order to remind us that our belief in a Tri-une God is shaped and formed by God's self-revelation in these saving events. You see, the doctrine of the Trinity is not really the speculation of philosophers who have discovered something new about God; the doctrine of the Trinity is the inspired result of reflection on the saving events we have commemorated over the past six months.

Now, someone will ask, why does the doctrine of the Trinity matter? Isn't belief in one God sufficient? It is an adage of religious studies that you become like that which you worship. If your god is remote and distant and loves in a purely abstract way, that will shape your character and thinking about the world: empathy may not be a distinguishing aspect of your personality. In many false religions, of course, one worships a simply a self-image, a god of our own tastes, opinions and prejudices. That is why the idea of God's self-revelation is so important. Rather than imposing our own image on God, we allow God to speak for himself. The doctrine of the Trinity is so important because we believe it is who God has revealed himself to be in the person and mission of Jesus Christ. The doctrine of the Trinity tells us that the Tri-une God is an eternal community of love. Love and self-offering is not a learned behavior of God or one of God's modes of acting. Love belongs to the very substance of God in the intercommunion of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. The Father begets and loves the Son. He gives his divine life to him. The Son loves the Father and gives himself completely in love and obedience. The Holy Spirit is the bond of love proceeding from the Father and the Son. That we worship this Trinity and believe that we are made in his image means that we are created for love and community. As individuals, families, and a community, we want to become like the God we worship, a communion of love with God and fellowman. It is not good for man to be alone, and so we are given families, friends and communities to love freely and unreservedly. We have seen such love this week, but even so, it is still only partial and imperfect. It belongs to the hope of eternal life, to see the perfection and fulfillment of this communion of love in God. The most profound image for heaven in the Bible is a city without church or temple because the city itself is the temple. The society of man is joined to the society of God—the Trinity—and it is joined in love. The Anglican theologian Austin Farrer wrote a meditation on this feast of the Holy Trinity. He had these moving words to say, “Belief in the Trinity is not a distant speculation; the Trinity is that blessed family into which we are adopted. God has asked us into his house, he has spread his table before us, he has set out bread and wine. We are made one body with the Son of God, and in him converse with the Eternal Father, through the indwelling of the Holy Ghost” (Crown of the Year 37).

Rogation Sunday Sermon

And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it. And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day: for there shall be no night there. And they shall bring the glory and honour of the nations into it. And there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie: but they which are written in the Lamb's book of life. And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever.

- Revelation 21:22 - 22:5

In today’s Epistle lesson, John has a vision of the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of God which abides eternally in perfect communion and fellowship with God. It is interesting that the narrative of the Bible begins with man and woman in a garden and ends with redeemed humanity in a city. Heaven, in John’s vision, is not pictured as simply a return to the garden of Eden. There is of course the fellowship with God which is common to both, but the fact that there is a city at the end suggests that the succeeding history from Eden—the history of civilization—finds its fulfillment and perfection in this universal city. Heaven is not about erasing history. Rather, all that is true, noble, good and beautiful will find its place and perfection in heaven. It is comforting to know that the music of Mozart, the poetry of Shakespeare and the painting of Rembrandt ultimately belong to this city. In this city, all that is hateful and destructive is purged, all that is good and praise-worthy and loving is preserved and perfected.

In the book of Revelation, John contrasts this heavenly Jerusalem with what is called the whore of Babylon a symbol for the city of Rome in John’s time. The city of Rome, the city of this world, is all about power that controls, trade that accrues ever increasing material goods, and commerce that builds paper wealth. The city of Jerusalem, the city of God, is all about power that serves, trade that honors God as the giver of all, and commerce that builds the commonwealth, in the old sense of that word. In our own time we see both cities operating in this world. Although the heavenly Jerusalem has not yet been manifested, we are called to live as citizens of that city, with all that that citizenship implies.

In his vision, John also writes of a river, a river flowing with the water of life. The river “proceeds out of the throne of God and of the Lamb”. Water of course is symbolic for that basic sustenance which we need to live. Of all the things needed for human life—food, water, shelter—we can endure water’s absence for the least amount of time. Perhaps this is because our bodies are composed mostly of water. The point of the image is that from God flows the very life of our being. He is our sustenance, our life, our endurance, our future. The image also is reminiscent of the assertion in the Old Testament that a spring flowed from under the temple in Jerusalem. Writing of this river, the Psalmist says, There is a river, the streams whereof make glad the city of God; * the holy place of the tabernacle of the Most Highest (46.4). The presence of life-giving water in Jerusalem, out of the temple, suggests that the joy God’s people receive from his presence in the temple is also life-giving. Following the destruction of the first temple by the Babylonians, Ezekiel had a vision of a new temple purified in ideal worship to God. It too has a stream following out from under it. In his vision, Ezekiel follows this stream which begins as a trickle and eventually becomes so voluminous that he can no longer stand up in it. This symbolic river transforms the salty Dead Sea. The Dead Sea is called by this name because of how uninhabitable its waters are. In Ezekiel’s vision the Dead Sea becomes a fresh water lake full of fish and other living creatures. Along the banks of this life-giving river, Ezekiel sees abundant “trees. . . whose leaf shall not fade, neither shall the fruit thereof be consumed: it shall bring forth new fruit according to his months, because their waters they issued out of the sanctuary: and the fruit thereof shall be for meat, and the leaf thereof for medicine.” Notice the echo in Revelation of these leaves that are for healing or medicine. In John’s Gospel we also have a hint of this life giving water when Jesus tells the Samaritan woman at the well, “Whosoever drinketh of this water—the well water—shall thirst again: But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.” You see, in each of these passages from Scripture what we are dealing with is not literal, physical water, but a symbolic reality. The sacred writers are conveying with these images that God is like water to the soul. No doubt, you’ve heard of the figurative God-shaped hole in each one of us. Everyone has a hunger and appetite for God and the things of the Spirit. One of course sees a myriad number of ways in which people try to satisfy this thirst for the water that is God. They try anything they can to put into that God-shaped hole. Only, instead of satisfying their thirst, it is as if they are drinking salt water which only makes them more thirsty. The man who has a will to power, believes that the more authority and control he has will make him content and happy. This lust for power has led many to wade through slaughter to a throne. Materialists on the other hand seek an excess of material goods. Only, as you know, there is no end of wanting. It has never happened that the materialist announces with satisfaction, I have enough. Further, the person hungering for love will go from relationship to relationship and from marriage to marriage looking to be affirmed and fulfilled. Each of these are recipes for loneliness, unhappiness and eventually despair. Why? Because in each case, someone tries to substitute a false god for what God alone can give: the water of life. This is precisely the meaning of all the water images in the Bible. God is the ultimate happiness and satiation of our being. Christianity calls us to live as pilgrims on earth. That does not mean that we are wandering nomads, or that we are afflicted with the great vice of wanderlust. Rather, we know ourselves to be citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem. We know that their true home is in God, and can say like the Psalmist, “the Lord leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul” even in the midst of this world, this valley of the shadow of death.

This symbolism surrounding water has extended to the church’s outward order. As you entered the church you probably passed by the baptismal fount where the waters of baptism bring us to new life. Tomorrow as our young people and adults are confirmed by the bishop, each will make a promise to live into the reality of that living water by which they have been washed and filled in Baptism. And even now, we are invited to find our satisfaction and fulfillment in God as we partake of this simple meal of bread and wine. It is not a meal to satisfy our stomachs, but a feast given by God to feed our souls with his very life. My friends, when we come to learn that God can and does fill us in a way that nothing else in this world can, there is great peace, joy and contentment to be found. May we all turn to him in repentance and faith and find that water within us that wells up to everlasting life.

Low Sunday Sermon

     John 20:19-31


As children, many of us probably asked if we could see God. My children have asked the question. As children we learn about the world around us through our senses. It is only natural to ask to see God. A child is certain to wonder who this fellow is that you talk about so seriously but that he cannot see. Perhaps at a later age, we wanted to hear God, and to receive some assurance that God was really there. Were you ever in such perplexity that you wanted God simply to tell you audibly what to do? As adults, we are not that different. Many want some kind of evidential proof of God’s existence. Nothing short of that will make them believe. As a result, some readers will undoubtedly feel a bit frustrated when they encounter today’s Gospel. In the reading, Thomas apparently receives such proof when the resurrected Jesus appears to him. Does he get to have that which we will never have? Does he get the proof that we think we need? Tradition has been somewhat hard on him by labeling him doubting Thomas. This is a misleading title, and ultimately the title believing Thomas might be more fitting.

Before I get there, I need to say something about the words for sight or seeing in John's Gospel. There are five different Greek verbs used for seeing in the Gospel. These different verbs contain a range of meaning. There is the seeing of the man born blind whom Jesus heals. Physical sight is given by the healing touch of the Lord. In the Easter morning accounts, Mary sees the stone rolled away from the tomb. Both of these refer to the function of our bodily eyes.

But there is another type of seeing, seeing with the understanding. If I put before you an American flag, you would say that it is more than strips of red and white fabric sewn together with stars. Your eyes tell you that this is a piece of cloth, but your understanding reminds you of the freedom, equality and justice that the flag represents. In John’s Gospel there is a kind of seeing beyond the bare facts of sight, but which does not grasp the fullness of who Jesus is or what his mission is. John 2.23 says that “when [Jesus] was in Jerusalem at the passover, in the feast day, many believed in his name, when they saw the miracles which he did.” As the Gospel develops it becomes clearer that those, who simply believe because of the miracles they see, do not have an abiding and substantial faith. The crowds have a sense of Jesus’ holiness; they can appreciate his miracles, but they cannot understand that his miracles point to a greater reality that Jesus is the Word of the Father, the perfect expression of God's character and person. In a similar way, after Jesus reveals the checkered history of the Samaritan woman in John 4, she says to Jesus, “I perceive, I see that you are a prophet.” Jesus’ power to reveal secret sins of which she is ashamed compels her to this confession, but she does not of course understand the fullness of who Jesus is. He is more than simply a prophet or soothsayer.

There is a third kind of seeing in John’s Gospel. This type of sight leads to substantial faith and trust. In last Sunday’s Gospel lesson, Peter and the beloved disciple—usually understood as John—run to the empty tomb of Jesus. There they see the linens from the dead body of Jesus in one pile, and then in another spot, “the napkin, that was about his head. . . wrapped together in a place by itself.” This is followed by the affirmation that the beloved disciple, after he had entered the tomb, “saw and believed.” What did he see that caused him to believe? I think that he saw the way in which the linens were placed suggested that the body of Jesus had not been stolen. If you’re going to steal the body of Jesus, you wouldn’t take the time to unwrap it, and you definitely wouldn’t take the time to fold the head napkin, and place it neatly in another spot. John sees the burial linens with his physical eyes, but with the eyes of faith, he believes that Jesus has risen. It is the resurrection that gives clarity to the cross, by showing the cross to be the means of new life. It is only by the eyes of faith that we can see this new life budding out of the hard wood of the cross. For this reason, it is not morbid or evidence of an obsession with death, that we Christians wear crosses and place them in the center of churches. Faith teaches us the true meaning of the cross as not merely a recollection of a horrible execution. The Swiss theologian Karl Barth wrote of the cross as God’s grace hidden in judgment. The grace of the cross becomes clear and manifest on Easter morning. When we look at the cross we see grace and love.

So, there are at three types of seeing in John’s Gospel, that which is merely perception with the physical eyes, that which sees with the eyes and believes to an extent, and that which sees with the eyes of faith and so believes. These distinctions help to shed clarity on the meaning of today’s Gospel. Thomas who is not present at the first appearance of Jesus says that “Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe.” Thomas mistakenly thinks that faith is given simply by seeing and touching. Faith however is an internal power of perception. He should be asking for the eyes of his faith to be opened and not for the eyes of his body to be satisfied with the sight of Jesus and his wounds. A week after Easter Sunday, Jesus appears again to the twelve; this time Thomas is with them. Jesus invites Thomas to reach forth his hands and his finger and to touch his wounds. Finally and most importantly he tells him to be not faithless but believing. Our Lord chastens Thomas for not using the eyes of faith but simply relying on the eyes of the flesh. What follows is surprising, and most people do not notice it: the Evangelist does not say that Thomas reached forth his hands or his finger. He does not appear to do either or any of these things. Thomas simply makes his great confession, “My Lord and my God.”

Here is what is remarkable about this confession. The Godhead of Jesus is not something one can see or touch. As the prayer book reminds us, God is without body, parts, or passions, and this is true of our Lord’s divine nature. It belongs to his human nature, as a man composed of body and soul, to be seen, touched and heard with an audible voice. Thomas' confession shows that he believes Jesus to be more than a mere man. Preaching on Thomas, St. Augustine wrote that, Thomas “saw the man, but acknowledged the God.” It is only the eyes of faith that Thomas could perceive our Lord’s divinity. So, it would perhaps be more fitting to call Thomas, believing Thomas. Thomas does begin with doubt but he ends in faith. It is not a faith that has been proved by some incontrovertible evidence, but it is a faith that has been informed by the eyes of trust and belief.

There is a pregnant application in all of this. Most people live their lives in a kind of sleep-walking state. All they see are the bare facts of their existence. They simply view the world around them only with the eyes of the body. The world for them seems to be governed by chance and accident. Faith teaches us something more. Faith reminds us that God's providence holds all of our lives. The Bible says that God works all things together for the good of those who love him. Everything that happens to us, God makes use of for his purposes. Even the bad things, the things that appear to be evil—like the wounds on our Lord Jesus—bear a role in God's work of bringing all things into wholeness and unity with him. We have to see the trials and tribulations of this life with the eyes of faith, so that when we look at the cross we don't see a man dying but new life budding forth.