I hope you know the C.S. Lewis series called The Chronicles of Narnia, and especially the first book in the series: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. If you haven’t read the book, then perhaps you’ve seen the movie of the same name that was made several years ago, which is very faithful to the book. In any case, if you consider yourself an Episcopalian—or indeed if you’re a Christian of whatever variety—you should read the Narnia books. They’re very entertaining, but—more than that—they’re an allegory for understanding the world from a Christian perspective. In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, for example, Lewis gives us an imaginative picture of life in the “real” world: The Kingdom of Narnia has fallen under the power of the White Witch, who rules it with a heavy hand. The Witch rules as queen, but everyone knows she is not the legitimate monarch. She rules by virtue of her evil magic, and all the creatures of Narnia live in fear of her. Even the land itself, and its climate, have succumbed to the Witch’s spell. For “in Narnia, it is always winter, but never Christmas!” Narnia is a land of little freedom and little joy. But there is hope. Even the evil Queen cannot eliminate hope. There is an ancient prophecy that some day the rightful King will return. On that day, the curse of the White Witch will be un-done. The land and its inhabitants will be set free, and life will be joyful once again. All will be well—when the rightful King is restored to his throne! As I said, Lewis is deliberately creating an allegory: an imaginative way of understanding what has gone wrong in our world—and what it will take to set it right. The world as we know it scarcely shows any evidence of being ruled by a benevolent power. It is true that from time-to-time we encounter situations where good triumphs over evil, and right prevails over wrong. Sometimes, justice is actually done. And every day there are countless individual acts of goodness and kindness and generosity and forgiveness. Thank God for the good that there is! But just as often, the opposite occurs. The forces of evil and corruption and selfishness and cruelty—along with widespread indifference to injustice and suffering—are evident all around us. Everywhere there are “wars and rumors of wars.” Crime rules the streets of our cities, while incompetence rules the halls of government. Even the forces of Nature seem to turn against us, as tragedy and disaster claim millions of lives. The evening news reveals a world that—as a whole—resembles Lewis’ Narnia. There is little freedom and little joy, and most of the world’s people live in fear. It’s as if the good world that God created has fallen under an evil spell. And that—of course—is precisely what Christianity says. The world has fallen under an evil spell! The Rightful King no longer rules His domain. His throne has been usurped by an imposter. His people are under the evil thumb of Sin, Death, and the Devil. Even the goodness of the natural world has been affected. That is what Christianity says has gone wrong. But there is hope! Hope that—by God’s grace—springs eternal in the human heart. And there are ancient prophecies that feed our hope. Scripture promises that some day the Rightful King will return. On that day, the curse will be un-done. All creation will be redeemed and set free. Life will be joyful once again. The burden of sin will be removed. Satan will be banished from his place of power. And the “last enemy to be destroyed will be death.” All will be well—when the Rightful King is restored to His throne! Today is the “Last Sunday after Pentecost”—the last Sunday of the Church Year. And the Church Year goes out, not with a whimper, but with a bang! Today is a celebration day, the “Festival of Christ the King.” The collect of the day calls Christ “the King of Kings and Lord of Lords,” under whose “most gracious rule” the “peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin,” are destined to be “set free and brought together.” We acknowledge as we say this prayer that the day of unity and freedom is not now. It has not yet arrived, but is still to come. It is the day promised in today’s reading from the Prophet Jeremiah, when the “Righteous Branch” of David will finally “reign as King.” On that day he will finally bring “justice and righteousness” to the land, and all God’s people will be “saved.” It is the day all humanity hopes for, when finally all will be well. But this begs the question of what we should do until that day comes. In 1939, during the darkest days of World War II, the German Luftwaffe was bombing the city of London every night and every day. The carnage and destruction was horrific, and the effect upon British morale was devastating. The Royal Ministry of Information was charged with the task of creating a slogan that would galvanize the will to resist, and give the people hope. A number of different posters were proposed to be placed in the subways and other public places. The one they finally settled on was a stroke of quintessentially British genius. On the background of the British flag, with a silhouette of the king’s crown above, were the following words: “Keep calm and carry on.” “Keep calm and carry on.” That says it all in a nutshell! That is what Christians must do while waiting for the return of our King! We can “keep calm and carry on” because we can trust God. Today’s Gospel tells us that when Jesus was crucified, his enemies mocked Him and taunted Him. They said “if you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.” But Jesus chose not to show His power in that way. He chose instead to bear the suffering they inflicted on Him, and to die on a cross. The King chose not to save Himself, but to save us instead! His prayer of “Father, forgive them,” was fulfilled for us by His death. And His promise of “Paradise” will be fulfilled for all creation upon His return. All will be well—when the Rightful King is restored to His throne. Until that day, we are His witnesses and His servants in this troubled world. He has commanded us to serve Him by serving the “least” of his brothers and sisters. He has warned us not to be overcome by the evil in the world, but to “overcome evil with good.” He has taught us to “pray always, and not to lose heart.” And now—as we await his return—may Christ the King grant us the grace to “Keep calm and carry on.” AMEN. “It is a gloomy moment in the history of our country.
“Not in the lifetime of most men has there been so much grave and deep apprehension. “Never has the future seemed so uncertain as at this time. “The domestic economic situation is in chaos. “Our dollar is weak throughout the world. “Prices are so high as to be utterly impossible. “The political cauldron seethes and bubbles with agitation. “It is a solemn moment of trouble. “No man can see the end.” This statement sounds like it could be borrowed from a recent newspaper article or editorial. But that is not the case. It appeared in Harper’s Weekly in October, 1857—159 year ago! All governments and societies face challenges that threaten their survival. And every new generation faces the task of establishing and maintaining security. Security. What is it? How much of it do we need? Where can we find it? These have become the questions of our day. The people of the Old Testament put their trust in the one True God—the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They trusted in God for their protection and survival. The symbol of their security was the temple in Jerusalem. The temple was a concrete—(or rather a marble and gold)—representation of their commitment to the Lord—and of the Lord’s commitment to them. It was the symbol of the covenant God had made with their ancestors. To them alone—out of all the peoples of the earth—God had said, “I will be your God, and you will be my people. But over time the people began to confuse the temple with God’s own self. They made an idol of the building and its worship system. They forgot that their security was not to be found in a magnificent edifice—but in a relationship with the Living God. By the time Jesus appeared—the Jews should have been cured of this tendency to confuse the temple with the Living God. For the people of Israel had already seen their temple destroyed—not once, but twice. The First Temple—built by King Solomon in 966 BC—was elaborate and richly adorned. It was razed to the ground—and its riches taken as booty—when the Babylonians captured Jerusalem in 586 BC. When the people were released from their captivity and allowed to return to Jerusalem, they began to rebuild the temple. But it was such a poor copy of what had been before—that those who had seen Solomon’s temple wept. When the next world power swallowed up Judea—this Second Temple was also destroyed. In Jesus’ day a Third Temple was being built. As it began to take shape, it was an inspiring sight. In richness and beauty of design it was to rival Solomon’s temple. Which is where today’s Gospel reading picks up. One day—as the disciples were leaving the temple area—their attention was drawn to the massive and impressive appearance of the building being constructed. Jesus called this place his Father’s House, and he understood that it represented the true worship of God. The Temple’s piety, however, fell short of it magnificent façade. Within its shining exterior were the seeds of its own destruction. It had become a place where empty rituals were preformed—and no longer a place of true worship. As his disciples looked in awe on this great structure, Jesus told them: “As for these things which you see, the days will come when there shall not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.” I think we can understand the disciples’ reaction to his statement if we consider how we would have reacted—if someone had told us prior to September 11, 2001, that the World Trade Center would be destroyed. Jesus spoke these words of warning about widespread destruction and persecution around 30 AD. He spoke the unthinkable. But 40 years later, his words actually came to pass. In 70 AD, not only the temple, but the entire city of Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans. The historian Josephus described the destruction this way: “The roar of the flames streaming far and wide mingled with the groans of the falling victims—and owing to the height of the hill and the mass of the burning pile, one would have thought the whole city was ablaze. “With the cries on the hill were blended those of the multitude in the city below. “And now, many who were emaciated from starvation—when they beheld the sanctuary on fire—gathered strength once more for lamentation and wailing. “Yet more awful than the uproar were their sufferings.” All the disasters that Jesus predicted came to pass in the next forty to fifty years—including the persecution of his followers. Jesus had taught them to trust only in God. He warned them that true security is not provided by any government, organization, or ruler. Nor—as we have learned—can it be found in our mighty buildings—or our modern technology. Pointing to the source of true security, Jesus spoke on—to provide instructions for navigating uncertain and dangerous times. Above all, we are to remain faithful to that which can be trusted. We are not to be led astray. We must keep our focus on the Truth that is revealed in Jesus Christ. Jesus warned that—in difficult times—some would be tempted to follow leaders who claim to have all the answers—leaders who provide a false sense of security, and easy solutions to difficult problems. The other thing Jesus said was not to be afraid. We need to heed this warning in our present crisis. Our fears can easily stampede us into foolish actions. If we allow fear to control our lives, then we are unable to let God control them. We are assured that God is with us—and his message is to have no fear. The final thing Jesus said was to bear witness to him and to his Gospel—in whatever situation we find ourselves. This is not an easy assignment. And even in our day—this act of faith results in martyrdom for Christians in some parts of the world. But it is in steadfast faith—in remaining faithful—that we show the world the Source of our security—the only true security. Because we trust in God—we can face whatever challenges confront us. Which brings us to today. Some of us are pleased with the results of last Tuesday’s elections. Some of us are disappointed—or even angry. Some of us held our nose while we voted. But regardless of how any of us may feel—the People have spoken—and our electoral system has worked as it was intended. Robert Frost once wrote: “Something there is that does not love a wall.” I think Our Lord would agree. He gave his life to tear down the walls that separate us from our God—and from each other. Now is the time for the disciples of Jesus to follow his lead. Now is the time for us to become peace-makers—and bridge-builders—for his sake. I pray that we will have the grace to do so. And there is one thing we should all remember. The walls of the temple may crumble. Our governments and leaders may come and go. Our riches and our technology may pass away. But our ultimate security is assured by the Living God. And God’s Kingdom is forever! AMEN. I was watching one of the popular TV comedy shows last week—in which a new-born infant was baptized.
As the priest poured the water on the child—one of the spectators said: “So basically—we’re water-boarding a baby!” It was a funny moment that made me laugh. It also made me think—about the upcoming baptism of Drake Bo Baker—which is happening today, on All Saints’ Sunday. I started wondering what the un-initiated—the un-informed—might think about Christian Baptism. Would they have any idea what it is—or what it means? Would they be able to tell by watching what happens—and listening to the words? “Water-boarding a baby” is not what we’re about today—although most of our young “baptismal candidates” scream as if it were! What we’re about is making Drake Bo Baker a “Child of God”—and an “Inheritor of the Kingdom.” That’s the way the old Episcopal Catechism puts it. In biblical terms—Drake will be “born again—by water and the Holy Spirit.” Without that—as Jesus said to Nicodemus—no one can enter the Kingdom of Heaven. In Romans chapter 6, the Apostle Paul talks about baptism as well. He says that all who are baptized into Christ Jesus are baptized into his death. Therefore we are buried with Christ by baptism into death—so that we might also be raised with Christ—and walk in newness of life. For if we are united with Christ in a death like his—we will surely be united with him in a resurrection like his. The water of baptism is a symbol of cleansing. By baptism into Christ Jesus we are cleansed from our sins. But it is also a symbol of death. In baptism we die to sin—and are born again to Eternal Life. That is what will happen to Drake today. It is appropriate that Drake be baptized on All Saints’ Sunday. That is one of the days the Prayer Book recommends for baptism. It is also the Patronal Festival for this parish—which is dedicated to All the Saints. And today—Drake Bo Baker will become a member—with all of us—of the Communion of Saints’—that Holy fellowship of all God’s People—in Heaven and on Earth. And it is worth noting that Drake will be the third generation of his family to be baptized here at All Saints’. The water that will be used to baptize Drake is from the River Jordan—where Jesus himself was baptized. Elizabeth and I brought it back from our trip to the Holy Land. And the olive oil that will be used to anoint Drake is from the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem. The same ancient olive trees that Jesus walked among are still alive there today—and the oil comes from them. Both the water and the olive oil connect Drake closely to Jesus Christ, the Son of God—who will always be Drake’s Savior and Lord. The rest of us owe a debt of gratitude to Drake—and to his parents Bo and Liza—this morning: First of all—because it is a joy to once more hear a young child present among us. And secondly—because most of us do not remember our own baptism. We were infants ourselves—and cannot recall the occasion. But seeing Drake’s baptism reminds us of what happened to us—and gives us a chance to renew our own faith in Jesus Christ—as our Savior and Lord. Finally, let me remind us all of a beloved Bible Story found in Mark chapter 10. There we are told that parents were bringing their children to Jesus to be blessed. The disciples tried to stop them—but Jesus said: “Let the little children come to me—and do not hinder them—for to such belongs the Kingdom of Heaven.” Today—Jesus’ words are fulfilled for Drake. By God’s Grace—he is becoming what we already are: A Child of God and an Inheritor of the Kingdom. And—by God’s Grace—each of us must become what Drake already is: A little child. For to such belongs the Kingdom of Heaven. AMEN. It’s that time of year again…
when evil lurks around every corner... when slimy, loathsome, ghoulish, creatures appear at your door… and they all want something from you: Your vote! Actually, the people demanding our vote no longer come door-to-door as they used to. Nowadays, they make their way into our homes through the television screen—slinging mud at their opponents, and threatening us with all kinds of dire predictions if we don’t give them what they want. It’s really been scary this year! As a result, most of us will just be glad when it’s all over, and the political ads go away for a while. Which is sad—since we all agree on the need to elect fair, honest, and committed leaders. That’s all I have to say about politics—except to ask you to pray and vote on November 8th. The main character in this morning’s gospel is a person we would be even more frightened to find at our door than a politician: It’s the tax-man! It happened in a town called Jericho. A tourist visiting Israel usually wants to go to Jericho. Besides being home to perhaps the most famous short tax collector in history, it’s where “Joshua fit the battle…and the walls came a tumbling down.” But it isn’t that easy to visit Jericho, as Elizabeth and I discovered on our trip to the Holy Land. Much as we wanted to see it, we couldn’t go there. Jericho is under Palestinian control, and is closed to tourists. So we missed seeing the sycamore tree in today’s Gospel—all because of politics! (I said I wasn’t going to mention politics again—but as you know, that’s easier said than done!) Let’s get back to the tax collector. He’s someone most of us met a long time ago in Sunday school—and I trust he’s still a familiar figure there! Children tend to love him. After all every child knows what it’s like to be short! His name is Zacchaeus. What we learned about him in Sunday school can be summarized in a song that some of you may remember: Zacchaeus was a wee little man, A wee little man was he. He climbed up in a sycamore tree, The Savior for to see. Zacchaeus may be loved by Sunday school children, but he was not loved in Jericho. He had at least three things going against him: First of all, he was a tax collector—the chief tax collector. He had a prestigious title—but not one that won him friends! Zacchaeus wasn’t working for the IRS. It was even worse than that. He was collecting taxes for Imperial Rome—and that made him a traitor. Tax collectors were so despised that they were not allowed to hold public office, to give testimony in Jewish courts, or even to attend worship services in the synagogue. He had a fancy title, and he was successful. But Zacchaeus was a lonely man—a man without a country. The second thing Zacchaeus had going against him was that he was rich. It wasn’t just that he was rich. It was how he got his money—and how he treated his neighbors to get it. Zacchaeus was rich because, as the tax man, he was free to collect as much as he liked. He could add on a little more—or a lot more—for his troubles. And if anyone complained, or refused to pay, Zacchaeus’ gang of “insurance adjustors” would be sure to pay them a visit! So he wasn’t only a traitor—he was also a crook. The third thing going against Zacchaeus was that he was short in stature. He was short! Let’s admit it: There’s a prejudice in our society against short people. I’ve been told that the tallest candidate almost always wins an election—although it’s not likely to happen this year. (Oops! Politics again!) Some of us know what it’s like to be short. I’ve gone through my entire adult life saying that I’m “5 foot six-and-a-half inches tall.” Tall people don’t count the half-inches! When I was at the Citadel, they put us in companies according to height. My company was the shortest: “I Company.” We always marched last. They called us the “Duck-butts!” Short people agree with Rodney Dangerfield: We “don’t get no respect.” And neither did Zacchaeus! It was these three things—his title, his wealth and his stature—that drove Zacchaeus up a tree—and that’s where Jesus found him. The children’s song tells what happened next: And when the Savior passed that way, He looked up in the tree, He said, “Zacchaeus, you come down; For it’s you I’ve come to see.” When Jesus called the little man by name, I imagine he almost fell out of his tree! Jesus was actually looking for him! The Savior had come to stay at his house! No wonder he scrambled down! Zacchaeus knew he was a sinner—and he knew his need for God. He knew he needed to turn his life around—and Jesus was just the man to help him do it. So it is with all who receive Jesus as Savior. As C.S. Lewis has pointed out, the Good News of Jesus Christ is only “good news” for those who know they are sinners. It has nothing to offer those who believe they are righteous! Notice how the “good people” of Jericho reacted. They grumbled that Jesus would even speak to a sinner like Zacchaeus—let alone enter his home as a guest. So Jesus explained his actions—He had come to “seek out and save the lost!” He didn’t come to congratulate the good. He had come looking for the one who needed Him most. And whether we know it or not, that “one” is not just Zacchaeus—but you and me! From that day on, Zacchaeus was a changed man! As the song says, Zacchaeus came down from that tree, And he said, “A better man I’ll be.” “I’ll give my money to help the poor, What a better man I’ll be.” From that day on, Zacchaeus stopped taking and started giving. He gave out of gratitude, because of what Jesus had given him. He had found what was missing from his life—because Jesus had found him! The truth is that we are all seekers—the short, the tall, the rich, the poor, the famous and not. Underneath the surface, we are all the same. We are all looking for what Jesus offers. “Salvation” is the theological word for it. But simply put, we are all seeking a personal relationship with the God who made us. And in Jesus—who calls us each by name, and would not have any one of us perish—we find what we seek. We are able to find Him because He first came to find us! He came to “seek out and save the lost.” And whether we know it or not, that means you and me! Amen. “Where in the world did that first reading come from?”
Some of you may be asking yourselves that very question! What is this mysterious book called “Sirach?” “Sirach” is not one of the 39 canonical books of the Old Testament—nor one of the 27 books of the New Testament. So—where did it come from?—and why are we reading it as if it were Scripture? The full name of the book in question is “Ecclesiasticus—or The Wisdom of Jesus Ben Sirach.” It is one of those writings that we call the “Apocrypha.” The Apocryphal books form what might be considered an “appendix” to the Old Testament. They were written later than the canonical books—and written in Greek rather than Hebrew. Episcopalians don’t give the Apocrypha the same authority as the other books—but it has always been included in our Lectionary. The Prayer Book says the Apocrypha may be read for “example of life and instruction in manners”—but not to “establish any doctrine.” This means that we cannot use today’s reading from Sirach to “establish any doctrine.” But we can—and should—use it for “example” and “instruction.” So let us consider what “wisdom” Jesus Ben Sirach has to offer. Sirach’s topic in chapter 35 is Giving. He is keen to explain both why we should give—and how we should give. First the why—and then the how. “Give to the Most High as he has given to you”—Sirach says. The basic idea here—and throughout the rest of the Scriptures—is this: We give—because God has first given to us. God is a generous giver—and has provided for us abundantly. All that we have—and all that we are—is a gift from God. Everything we have is from God. That is why we give. The Creation Story in Genesis tells us that God created human beings “in his image.” In the image of God he created us—both male and female. God is a generous giver--and he created us to be like himself. So it is part of our human nature to be generous—and to give. When it comes to giving to the Church—we must not fall into thinking that we give merely to cover the expenses—or to maintain the building—or to pay the priest. It’s not for anything so mundane as that! We give for something far far more important. We give to the Church--in order to return directly to God a portion of what he has given us. As the wise and wealthy King Soloman said: “All things come of Thee, O LORD—and of thine own have we given Thee.” We give to the Church—knowing that all we have is a gift from God. We give because we were created “in God’s image.” We give—because God has first given to us. That is the why of giving—now for the how. “Give as generously as you can afford”—Sirach says. “For it is the LORD who repays, and he will repay you seven-fold.” God is a generous giver—and we are to be generous givers as well. We are not to hold back—nor to worry about how much we give away. For God will repay us “seven-fold.” As for what you can “afford” to give—that is between you and God—and every person’s situation is different. Never the less—there is a “standard” of giving in the Scriptures. The “standard” is the “tithe.” A tithe means “one tenth”--ten per cent of what we have. Deuteronomy chapter 14 commends the tithe to all God’s people—as a way of measuring our generosity. It should not be regarded as a legalistic requirement—but as a helpful “yardstick.” The tithe is a “yardstick” to help us decide how much we should give. Sirach says that God will “repay” us for giving generously—but then he quickly takes a step back. That is not the reason we give. We do not give in order to receive a “payback” from God. “Do not offer God a bribe”—Sirach says. “For God will not accept it.” This was part of the problem with the Pharisee in our Gospel story. The “other Jesus”--Jesus of Nazareth—told a parable about a Pharisee and a Tax Collector—both of whom went into the Temple to pray. The Tax Collector recognized that he was a sinner—and therefore unworthy before God. But because of his humility—he found forgiveness and Grace. The Pharisee, however, was proud. Because he fasted according to the Law—and gave a tithe of all he had—he congratulated himself before God. He believed his tithing and fasting made him worthy—or even special—in God’s eyes. And he expected a reward. But Jesus said the Pharisee’s prayer was empty—and he went home without God’s blessing. Don’t use your giving as an attempt to manipulate God—or extract a special blessing from God. If your gift is really a “bribe”—it won’t work! God will not accept it. God only honors gifts that are freely given. St. Paul sums it up perfectly in Second Corinthians, chapter 9, verse 7: “Each one of you must do as you have made up your mind--not reluctantly or under compulsion—for God loves a cheerful giver.” “Give to the Most High as he has given to you—and give as generously as you can afford. “For the Lord is the one who repays—and he will repay you seven-fold. “Do not offer God a bribe—for he will not accept it.” Those are Sirach’s “instructions” today. That is the “example” for us to follow. That is the “wisdom” he has to offer. God has blessed each one of us so generously. So make up your mind to give generously in return. Give a tithe if you can. But whatever you decide to give—be a cheerful giver. For that is what God loves! AMEN. Have you ever felt that God isn’t listening to you?
Have you ever wondered why God doesn’t seem to answer your prayers? Have you ever suspected that God may be too busy dealing with more important matters—and doesn’t have time for your petty concerns? If so--you are not alone! In today’s Gospel reading—Jesus tells a story about a widow who was seeking justice. Someone was trying to trample on her rights—a common occurrence in Jesus’ day. The widow took her case to court—but the judge wouldn’t listen to her. Apparently this widow didn’t have a TV. Or else she wasn’t a fan of Judge Judy. If she were, she would have known to call George Sink at “all nines”—or contact the Dick James Law Firm at one of their convenient locations in Galilee. As it was—she had no one to plead her case. In any event—a widow (in those days) wouldn’t have had the means to afford an attorney—even if she could have found one willing to represent her. But the widow didn’t give up. She wouldn’t back down—and she wouldn’t shut up. She kept coming back to court—and badgering the judge—until he finally agreed to hear her case. The widow’s persistence wore the judge down—until he finally granted her request! Jesus held the “Persistent Widow” up as an example to his followers. Like her--we must not give up. We must be persistent in prayer. We must pray always—and not lose heart. How well Jesus knew his disciples. And how well he knows us. How easily we tend to become discouraged. How quick we are to give up on prayer—and give up on God! St. Paul, too, admonishes us to be persistent. In today’s reading from Second Timothy he says: “Be persistent—with the utmost patience—and carry out your ministry fully.” In other words--don’t get discouraged when the going gets rough. Don’t give up on God! And don’t give up on the work God has given you to do. Unfortunately—fewer and fewer of us seem to be listening! Recent surveys show that America’s faith in God may be slipping. This is particularly true among young adults. According to one survey—the number of Americans under 30 years of age who say they “doubt the existence of God” has doubled in the last few years—and now stands at 33 per cent—nearly one-in-three. Various explanations have been given for this trend. Some blame fundamentalism and right-wing politics. Others cite the erosion of traditional beliefs. Still others point to attacks on religion by the courts and the liberal media. Whatever the reason—it seems to be true. Young adults (as a group) are drifting away from God. Most Americans still believe—but increasingly, they find it difficult to defend their faith. The question Jesus asks at the end of today’s Gospel reading still begs an answer: “When the Son of Man returns--will he find faith on the Earth?” A few years ago—a distraught person wrote a letter to the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association. The letter described a number of difficult personal problems—and then concluded with this statement: “I’m about to give up on God. “I’ve prayed and prayed for God to take away my problems—but nothing has changed. “Why doesn’t God do something? “I thought God was supposed to care about us.” Billy Graham himself answered the letter. To his credit—he didn’t judge—or even pretend to have a comprehensive answer. Instead—he sympathized with the writer’s concerns. He said that we can never know why God acts—or fails to act—as he does. Still—we need to hold onto our faith—and be persistent in prayer. God may not “take away” our problems—as we often hope that he will. But he can give us the strength we need to face them. Dr. Graham gave essentially the same advice that Jesus and St. Paul did: Don’t be discouraged. Be persistent! Pray always—and don’t lose heart. Don’t give up on God. And don’t give up on the work God has given you to do. That is good advice. However—it’s not easy advice. It’s not easy to hold on to one’s faith. Easier—(we would like to think)—for someone like Mother Teresa—or Billy Graham—than for you and me! Today’s Old Testament reading from Genesis is one of my favorites—and it may provide some insight here. It’s one of those Bible stories many of us heard as children. I remember it as “Jacob Wrestling with the Angel.” Actually the story is part of a larger saga. You may remember that—as a young man—Jacob tricked his brother Esau into giving up his “birthright” as the eldest son—and then cheated him out of his father’s “blessing” as well. Esau was furious when he discovered the trickery—and he vowed to kill Jacob. So Jacob fled into the wilderness to escape his brother’s wrath. Over the years God blessed Jacob—in spite of his crooked character—and gave him wives and children and flocks and herds. It seemed that life was good. But then—Jacob received word that Esau was coming to pay him an unexpected visit—along with 300 armed men! Jacob quickly gathered up his wives and children and flocks and herds—and sent them across the Jabbok River to safety. Then he lay down to a troubled sleep—knowing that he would have to face Esau the next day. This is where today’s reading picks up. In his sleep—Jacob “wrestles” with a strong man—all night long. As day is breaking—the mysterious stranger departs—but not before doing something important. He gives Jacob a blessing—and a new name. From now on—Jacob will be known as “Israel.” The new name--“Israel”—means “The one who wrestles with God.” For Jacob had “striven with God and with humans—and had prevailed.” “The one who wrestles with God!” Jacob literally “wrestled” with God. He wrestled with God—both physically and spiritually. And he wouldn’t give up. That’s the important part. He wouldn’t let go. And because he persisted—he eventually “prevailed.” This story teaches us what it’s like to believe in God. Sometimes it’s a wrestling match! Sometimes it’s a struggle to hold on to our faith. To keep on believing may take every ounce of strength we have—both physically and spiritually. But if we hang on to our faith—and refuse to let go—then eventually we will be blessed. We will prevail! In the Bible—God’s Chosen People adopted their forefather’s new name. They were called Israel—and that’s who they were. Throughout their history they wrestled with God—and with their human neighbors. Their story was one big wrestling match! But because they refused to give up--they eventually “prevailed.” Now it’s our turn. Now we are Israel. Each of us must continue to wrestle with God—and with our fellow humans. Not least of all—we must wrestle with ourselves. So be persistent. Hang on to your faith—and don’t let go. Pray always—and don’t lose heart. Don’t give up on God. And don’t give up on the work God has given you to do. If we “persevere with steadfast faith”—then eventually we will be blessed. Eventually--we will prevail! AMEN. Some of you may remember a film released sixteen years ago—called “The Perfect Storm”—starring George Clooney.
The movie was based on a non-fiction book of the same title—which tells the story of the Andrea Gail—a commercial fishing vessel that was lost at sea during the “Perfect Storm” of 1991. When the small craft set sail—the sea was already getting rough—and within a few days the storm developed into a powerful hurricane. The experienced captain—played by Clooney—tried every trick he knew to escape the wind and waves—but was unable to do so. In spite of a desperate rescue attempt by the Coast Guard—the Andrea Gail was capsized by a huge tidal wave—and went down with all hands aboard. The movie concludes with the captain’s widow giving a moving eulogy at the memorial service. I thought about “The Perfect Storm” this week—while listening to the news reports about Hurricane Matthew. For quite a while now—our world has been sailing through troubled waters. In recent years we have been threatened by many man-made and natural disasters: Floods, earthquakes, tidal waves, climate change, the economy, the stock market, jobs, housing, shootings, riots, terrorism, and political instability. All are disturbing the peace—from Syria to Afghanistan to the Ukraine—and right here at home. Tensions between the police and the African American community are at an all-time high. And we are discovering that we haven’t made nearly as much progress as we had hoped—in achieving reconciliation between the races—and establishing Liberty, Justice, and Equal Rights for all. Then—there is the current divisive presidential campaign. And on top of it all—another destructive hurricane! In a way—the movie is a metaphor for the human condition in the first two decades of the 21st Century. All these troubles seem to be converging upon us at once—coming together to form “The Perfect Storm!” We can only hope that the International Ship of State will not suffer the fate of the Andrea Gail—and go down with all hands on board! Right away I think of two Biblical stories that are relevant. First of all—there is Noah and the Ark. According to the Book of Genesis—God created a peaceful world—where everyone lived in harmony. But starting with Adam and Eve—and continuing with their sons Cain and Abel—that harmony was shattered. Things got worse with every generation—until God resolved to destroy it all with a Great Flood. Only Noah and his family—and the animals he brought aboard the Ark—were saved. God protected them—and kept them from being overwhelmed by the wind and waves. So the human race was given a new start—a new opportunity to live in peace! The other Biblical story that comes to mind is Jesus Calming the Storm. You will recall that Jesus and the Disciples set out to cross the Sea of Galilee in a small boat. A storm blew up unexpectedly—and threatened to swamp the boat. The Disciples thought all was lost—and began to cry out to Jesus—who was sleeping on a pillow in the stern. Jesus awakened—and said to the wind and waves: “Peace—Be still!” And immediately—the storm was stilled. Afterwards—Jesus’ only comment was: “Why were you afraid?—oh ye of little faith!” In both of these stories, God’s people are threatened by “The Perfect Storm.” But God is still in control. God hasn’t forgotten about the human beings he created. God has not abandoned the ones he loves. And by God’s power—the danger is overcome—and the Storm is stilled. Perhaps we need to remember these stories—as we face “The Perfect Storm” that threatens our world! There are some who would look at the world’s troubles—and the grave dangers we face today—and attempt to lay blame. “God is punishing us for our sins”—they would say. “If only we would repent—and return to God”—they say—“things would get better.” I disagree. It is certainly true that humanity has sinned. And it is reasonable to think that—if we were more faithful to God’s Commandments—things would get better. But I disagree that God is punishing us. That is not the God I know. That is not the God of Our Lord Jesus Christ—who so loves the world that he gave his Only-Begotten Son! God is always reaching out to us with his forgiveness—and trying to save us by his Grace. God would not try to destroy us—by deliberately bringing upon us “The Perfect Storm.” Rather—God has done everything in his power to rescue and redeem the human race! But that is not to say that God has nothing to do with the Storm. God allows the Storm to threaten us. God allows us to face the fury of the wind and the waves. Not in order to punish us—but (perhaps) to force us to respond. To force us to put aside our differences—and settle our disputes—and work together for the good of all. Through the Storm—God is calling men and women everywhere—of all races and nations and cultures—to stand together—and solve our common problems. God is also calling us to have Faith—to put our Trust in Him. Only by Loving God—and Loving one another—can we restore the world to the harmony that God intended. Only by helping one another—and serving one another—can God’s original dream for humanity come true! What God asks of us is not difficult to understand. The prophet Micah said it long ago: “God has shown you, oh mortal, what is good. “And what is it that the Lord requires of you? “To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.” To act justly—to love mercy—and to walk humbly with our God. That is what God requires of us. That is how we are to face the Storm. That is how harmony and peace will be restored. When the warnings were going out over radio and TV about Hurricane Mathew—someone posted a video online of Bob Dylan singing his song “It’s a Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.” Perhaps you remember that song as I do—from 1963. Dylan sang: “O where have you been, my blue-eyed son? “And where have you been, my darling young one? “I saw a newborn baby—with wild wolves all around it. “I saw a highway of diamonds—with nobody on it. “I saw a black branch—with blood that kept dripping. “I saw a white ladder—all covered with water. “I saw guns and sharp swords—in the hands of young children. “I saw a white man—who walked a black dog. “I heard the sound of a thunder—that roared out a warning. “I heard the roar of a wave—that would drown the whole world. Then comes the chorus: “It’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard—it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall!” Bob Dylan was a prophet in his own right—and a master of metaphor—who still speaks eloquently to the troubles we face. “The Perfect Storm” of poverty and hatred and injustice and violence is indeed a “hard rain” that’s “gonna fall.” In fact—the rain is already falling on us now—threatening to “drown the whole world.” But God has not abandoned us. God has not given up on us. In the midst of the Storm—God is calling us to come together. God is calling us to put aside our differences—and work together for the good of all. Above the roar of the wind and waves, we can hear the voice of Our Savior saying: “Peace—Be Still! Then he turns to us and says: “Why are you afraid?—oh ye of little faith! “Act justly—love mercy—and walk humbly with your God.” AMEN. Some years ago, the Communist Party held a great public rally—in what was then called the Soviet Union.
The party leader spoke for about 90 minutes on behalf of atheism—attempting to persuade the crowd to give up religion. When he was finished—a young Russian Orthodox priest approached the platform and asked if he could speak. The party leader agreed—but only gave him five minutes. “I won’t need that much time,” the priest replied. He then mounted the platform and cried out in a clear voice: “Alleluia, Christ is risen!” An immediate response came back from the crowd: “The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia!” “That is all I have to say,” the priest said to the party leader. “Nothing else is needed!” During our recent visit to Russia—Elizabeth and I were surprised by the resurgence of religion in the post-soviet era. Churches that had been closed, damaged, or destroyed by the communists are being repaired and rebuilt. Beautiful new basilicas and cathedrals are going up everywhere. Crowds of worshippers—young as well as old—men as well as women—are filling the churches to hear the Gospel and attend mass. And they are bringing their children to be baptized. We were told that 90% of Russians now identify themselves as Russian Orthodox Christians. Eighty years of hardship and persecution has failed to kill the faith of the Russian people! Today’s Scripture readings all address the question of faith. In the Old Testament reading—the prophet Habakkuk speaks about a time when Israel was afflicted by danger abroad—and violence at home. It seemed that the Law no longer enforced Righteousness—and the courts had ceased to uphold Justice. The nation seemed to have lost its Moral Compass—and their leaders were without Vision. Government was no longer effective in serving the needs of the people. Forgive me for observing that it sounds a lot like the situation today! Into this chaotic mess—the prophet Habakkuk spoke some encouraging words. To the common people—who were struggling to maintain their families and their way of life—he made this bold statement: “The righteous shall live by their faith.” “The righteous shall live by their faith.” In other words--faith is what will sustain good people in such times. Faith is what will see God’s people through the crisis—and bring them to a better place. As the writer of Psalm 37 says: “Put your trust in the LORD—and do good. “Commit your way to the LORD—and he will bring it to pass.” Likewise—St. Paul speaks about faith in our Epistle reading from Second Timothy. “I am reminded of your sincere faith”—he writes to his young friend Timothy: “That same faith lived in your grandmother Lois—and your mother Eunice—and now, I am sure, it lives in you.” Both Paul and Timothy are facing challenging times—and Paul concludes by exhorting Timothy to hold onto his faith. Like the ancient Israelites—and like Paul and Timothy--we depend on our faith to get us through the hard times. We know that our faith can sustain us—even when things get really bad—even when nothing else can. But what if we have no faith—or don’t have enough faith? That’s where the Apostles found themselves in today’s Gospel reading. And so they came to Jesus—and made this rather sheepish appeal: “Lord, increase our faith!” Let us acknowledge—first of all—that the Apostles’ instincts were right. They came to the right place. Jesus is the one to come to when we are lacking in faith. Faith is not something we can conjure up from within ourselves. We can’t make ourselves have faith. We can’t make ourselves have more faith. Faith is a gift from God—and true faith can only come from God. One of my favorite Scriptures says as much. Ephesians 2, verse 8, says: “For by Grace are you saved—through faith—and that not of yourselves; “It is the Gift of God.” This tells us that we cannot save ourselves—any more than we can make ourselves have faith. Salvation comes through faith--and faith comes as a gift from God! So the Apostles were right in coming to Jesus with their problem. But at first, he doesn’t seem to help them. “If you only had faith the size of a mustard seed”—Jesus says—“you could perform miracles.” A mustard seed is very small. And so—(Jesus is saying)—is the Apostles’ faith! But then he says something helpful. Jesus reminds them that we don’t deserve special thanks for being obedient to God. We shouldn’t expect praise when we have done everything God has commanded. After all—we are only doing our duty! If we are faithful servants—we will always be doing what our Master commands. The point is this: Doing what God commands will increase our faith. Acting on the faith we have will cause our faith to grow. Exercising our faith will make it stronger. The mustard seed will grow—and become much larger--if we will only put the faith we have into practice! Perhaps that’s one reason our faith is so small—because we don’t practice it as we should. If we don’t act on our faith—it won’t grow. If we don’t exercise our faith—it won’t get any stronger. If we want God to increase our faith—then perhaps we should try acting on the faith we have! And stewardship is a good place to start. Yes--stewardship! Stewardship is really about exercising our faith when it comes to the subject of money. Stewardship is about putting our faith into practice when it comes to money and material possessions. It stands to reason, then—that practicing good stewardship will increase our faith. But first—we have to get past the word itself—and the feelings it stirs up! Have you ever noticed the three words that are hidden in the word “stewardship?” First—there’s the word “stew.” That’s what a congregation gets into—after the Rector preaches a sermon on stewardship. Then—there’s “war.” That’s what breaks out whenever money is discussed. And finally—there’s “ship.” That’s what gets rocked when the waves of criticism hit it. And—like the Titanic—that’s what will sink if financial support drains away! “Stewardship.” What the word actually means is exercising our faith--doing what Our Lord commands—when it comes to money and material possessions. If you want God to increase your faith—then try taking a risk. Try giving more to the church this year. Try giving more—even if your income hasn’t gone up. That will mean trusting God to provide. And your faith will grow! Try making a commitment to “tithe.” That means giving 10% of your income directly to God’s work. Even if you don’t think you can “tithe” right now—make a commitment to move towards it. Try giving 1% more this year—and each succeeding year—until you reach a tithe. That will mean trusting your financial future to God—and your faith will grow! Try thinking about your money as a gift from God—not something you struggled to acquire by your own efforts. And try thinking about stewardship as a joy and a privilege—rather than an obligation. Stewardship is actually an opportunity—an opportunity to do something good and lasting with your life. It’s the chance to use your time, talent, and treasure for God’s purposes. And in the final analysis--that’s the only thing that really matters! If you want God to increase your faith—then try taking a risk. Try putting the faith you have into practice—and acting on it. This year--try stepping out in faith—especially in your stewardship of money and material possessions. Start acting boldly on the faith you have—to do what Our Lord commands--and your faith will grow! AMEN. Today I want to start with a famous picture—one you probably all recognize. It’s a picture of the Earth—taken from space. It’s called “The Blue Marble”—for obvious reasons. The original version of this picture was taken by astronauts Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins—during the Apollo 11 Moon Mission in July, 1969. On their way to the Moon—the three astronauts were struck by the sight of the Earth from their spaceship. They said it looked like a “beautiful blue marble—an island of light and life—floating in the midst of a sea of darkness.” When the photo was published—it grabbed the attention of the entire world. It was the first time human beings had seen their home planet—from a “God’s-eye” point of view. It brought home in a powerful way the fact that we really are inhabitants of one world. It also brought home the realization that the Earth is not as large as we once thought. It’s only a tiny planet in a vast universe. The Earth is not “infinite”—as we once thought—but limited. And it has limited resources. When our Book of Common Prayer was revised in 1979—this new perspective inspired a poetic phrase that found its way into Eucharistic Prayer C: “This fragile Earth—our island home.” We now understand—in a way that we never could before—that God has indeed blessed us with the Earth’s resources—but that those resources are not inexhaustible. For Christians—this picture brings to mind any number of different scriptures. The first one I think of is Genesis 1:31: “And God saw everything he had made—and behold, it was very good.” The Earth and its resources are a gift from God. And what God has given us is “very good.” As today’s Epistle reading from First Timothy says: “God has richly provided us with everything good for our enjoyment.” Another scripture evoked by this picture is Genesis 1:1—the first verse of the Bible: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the Earth.” That verse defines once and for all our relationship to the world around us: The Earth is God’s creation—and it belongs to God! All that we have—and all that we are—is a gift from God. It all comes from God—and someday it will all return to God. We are not the “owners.” We are merely “stewards”--caretakers of God’s bounty. For a brief period—we are entrusted with the gift of time, energy, and resources. What we do with them will ultimately determine our character—and our destiny. That brings us to today’s Gospel reading. This reading is part of an entire section of Luke that is dedicated to Jesus’ teachings about money and material possessions. In today’s reading, Jesus tells a parable about a “rich man”—who wore fine clothing—and dined on fine food every day. Just outside the rich man’s door—lived a “poor beggar” named Lazarus. In stark contrast to the rich man—Lazarus had nothing. He dressed in rags—and was covered with sores. His only hope was to get some left-overs from the rich man’s table. The two men eventually die--and their fortunes are reversed! The beggar finds comfort in Paradise—in the company of the Old Testament Patriarch Abraham. But the rich man is tormented—in the flames of Hades. Ironically—it is now the rich man’s turn to beg. He begs that Lazarus be sent to cool his tongue with a drop of water. But this cannot happen. Just as—on Earth—the rich man ignored the beggar’s plea for help—so now, his own plea for help will be ignored. The rich man’s failure to act with basic human compassion has sealed his own fate! This parable is one of Jesus’ most pointed stories—and the point he was making is clear: As “stewards” of God’s bounty—we are expected to use God’s resources wisely and compassionately—not only to meet our own needs—but the needs of God’s world—and God’s people. The rich man in the parable chose to use his resources only for himself—even though he was blessed with wealth. He didn’t even help a starving beggar—who lived right outside his door. Going back to today’s Epistle reading from First Timothy—St. Paul gives clear instructions to those who are blessed with worldly wealth. First of all—he reminds us that “we brought nothing into this world—and we can take nothing out of it.” What part of “You can’t take it with you” do we still not understand?! Paul goes on to say that we should all be “content” if we have food and clothing. “But those who want to be rich will fall into temptation”—and ultimately into spiritual “ruin and destruction.” “For the love of money is the root of all evil.” Men and women of God must “shun” entanglement with wealth and worldly possessions—and instead—“pursue righteousness, godliness, faith and love.” Finally—Paul commands the wealthy to be “rich in good works—generous, and ready to share.” They are not to trust in riches—“but in God, the Giver of all good things.” In this way they will build up for themselves “a good foundation” for the future—so that they may “take hold” of Eternal Life. Since those instructions are addressed to the “wealthy”—we may not think they apply to us. But they do! We may not think of ourselves as “rich.” But we are! Every one of us is rich. We have all been blessed in countless ways by God’s bounty. We have each been given an abundance of time, energy, and resources—to use as God’s Stewards—not just for our own enjoyment and good—but for the good of God’s world—and God’s people. Let me close with a story. Three persons happened to die—and arrived at the Pearly Gates at the same time. St. Peter asked them what they had done on Earth to show that they were worthy of Heaven. The first was a wealthy businessman. He began to list his accomplishments as CEO of his own company—leader of many civic organizations—and member of many social clubs. St. Peter quickly cut him off—and sent him packing. The second was a highly educated woman. She began to explain how she had advanced herself academically—becoming a Department Head at a prestigious university—a respected consultant—and an acclaimed author. St. Peter turned her away as well. The third was a man of no particular distinction or accomplishment. “I don’t know,” he said hesitantly. “I’ve never had very much—or done very much. “But there were my birds. “I loved my beautiful wild birds. “I fed them every day—all winter long. “I made sure they had plenty of food—and fresh water—all the time.” To his surprise—the Pearly Gates swung wide open—and he heard a Voice say: “Well done, good and faithful servant. “Enter into the joy of your Lord. “For I was hungry—and you fed me. “I was thirsty—and you gave me water to drink.” Now don’t take my story too literally. There is more to “good stewardship” than feeding the birds. But it’s a start! God loves his entire Creation—including this “beautiful blue marble floating in a sea of darkness.” God loves everything he has made—even the “birds of the air.” But God is most concerned for the poor—those who have no resources of their own--those who live right outside our door. Here is what we need to understand today: The Earth is God’s creation—and it belongs to God! All that we have—and all that we are—is a gift from God. It all comes from God—and someday it will all return to God. We are not the “owners.” We are merely “stewards”--caretakers of God’s bounty. For a brief period—we are entrusted with the gift of time, energy and resources. What we do with them will ultimately determine our character—and our eternal destiny! Now let us pray. (BCP p. 827, “For the Right Use of God’s Gifts.”) Today’s sermon was inspired by the memory of the first book I was required to read in seminary. But before I get to that—I need to remind us all of another memory. It was on this date—September 11th—in the year of Our Lord 2001—that Islamic militants hijacked three airliners—and attacked the World Trade Center in New York City, and the Pentagon in Washington, DC. A fourth plane was probably intended for the White House or the Capitol building—but crashed before it was able to get there—apparently due to resistance by the passengers. Almost three thousand died that day—and the world-as-we-know-it was forever changed. Today—on the 15th anniversary of that event—I ask us each to renew our commitment--not to getting revenge—but to proclaiming the Gospel—the Good News of Jesus Christ—to all people. Let us re-dedicate ourselves to working and praying and giving for Justice, Peace, and Reconciliation—in this community—in our state and nation—and around the world. As I was saying—this sermon was inspired by the first book I was required to read in seminary—called Hunting the Divine Fox—by Robert Farrar Capon. Perhaps some of you have read it. As you might guess—“Hunting the Divine Fox” is about the search for God. Father Capon suggests that—throughout our history—human beings have always been searching for God. He portrays mankind as a relentless hunter—who is constantly engaged in tracking down his prey. This human “hunter” is always searching for meaning—always trying to unravel the mysteries of Creation--always “Hunting the Divine Fox.” God—on the other hand—is portrayed as the wily fox—the unwilling prey—who is always eluding mankind. God has hidden himself from our view—only leaving obscure clues to his existence. Try as we may to track God down—he cleverly foils our every effort. Pursue him as we might—“The Divine Fox” always remains just beyond our grasp. According to this way of looking at things—life is a game of Divine Hide-and-Seek—with God doing the hiding—and us doing the seeking. “Hunting the Divine Fox” is a flattering metaphor. It makes the human race sound noble and good. That’s the way we like to think of ourselves—isn’t it? That’s the way we like to portray ourselves—in our own minds—and in our history books: As pilgrims on a Great Spiritual Quest; Explorers who are always seeking out new frontiers; Philosophers who are always searching for the Truth. It all fits in with Capon’s thesis that human beings are restless hunters—always in pursuit of an elusive God. But there is a twist. At the end of the book—Capon turns the tables on the reader. It turns out that we have it all wrong. We are not the ones who are pursuing God. The truth is just the opposite. God is the One who is pursuing us! “The Divine Fox” is the Relentless Hunter—and we are the unwilling prey. The truth is that—throughout human history—and throughout our individual lives—it is God who has always come in search of us—and not vice versa. We human beings—for our part—are always running away from God—running away as fast and as hard as we can! This view of the “Divine Hunt” is much more in line with Scripture—and with the rest of the Christian literary tradition. An earlier work that is based on the same idea is The Hound of Heaven—by English poet Francis Thompson. Thompson portrays God—not as the hunter—but as the “Hound”—the relentless hunting dog. God is the “Hound of Heaven”—and God’s prey is the human Soul. The Hound never gives up—but always runs its prey to exhaustion--and always catches it in the end! The Hound of Heaven is autobiographical in nature—based on Francis Thompson’s own struggle to evade God. But as he learned—there is no escaping the “Hound of Heaven.” Thompson’s story—like all genuine spiritual autobiographies—is the story of God’s unrelenting “pursuit of the human Soul.” All of this brings us to our Gospel reading for today. The Scribes and the Pharisees—the religious leaders of Jesus’ day—are upset with Jesus once again. They are “grumbling” and complaining about his unorthodox behavior. Jesus was attracting crowds of people—made up of “tax collectors” and other low-lifes—who were regarded by good religious folk as “sinners.” But Jesus had no problem associating with these outcasts. He was even willing to sit at table—and eat with them. When the Pharisees “grumbled” about this—Jesus told them two short parables. One is about a shepherd who has a hundred sheep. When one is lost—the shepherd leaves the rest and goes looking for it—until he finds it and brings it home. The other is about a woman who has ten silver coins. When one is lost—she turns the house upside down until she finds it. In both parables the emphasis is on searching for the one that is lost—and rejoicing greatly when it is found. Jesus says that God is like that. God always goes searching for the one that is lost. God never gives up until the lost one is found. God always makes sure that the lost one is brought safely home. And then—there is great rejoicing! God is the shepherd who goes looking for the lost sheep. God is the woman who goes looking for the lost coin. God is the “Hound of Heaven” who goes looking for every human soul. God is relentless in his pursuit of every soul that is lost! One of the points I want to make today is this: God always takes the initiative to save us. Despite what we like to think—it is not we who go looking for God. It is God who comes looking for us. God is the One who always takes the initiative in saving us. That is why the Church has always practiced infant baptism—and why Episcopalians continue to practice it. Some Christians say that a person needs to accept Christ as Savior and Lord before they can be baptized—and an infant is incapable of doing that. But that is precisely the point! Jesus once said “You have not chosen me. “Rather, I have chosen you.” Infants are incapable of choosing to accept Christ--and that is precisely the point of baptizing them. We baptize infants to show that it is Christ who chooses us—and not we who choose him. Even if we are adults when we are baptized—it’s the same thing. Christ has already chosen us—long before we could ever choose him. A careful reading of the Acts of the Apostles shows that infant baptism has always been practiced by the Church—because it proclaims an important truth: It is God who always takes the initiative in our salvation. The other point I would like to make today is this: God never gives up on us—even when we give up on God. God will “hound” us till the end of our days. God will be relentless in tracking us down. God will never give up the pursuit—until our souls are safely in his possession. And yet—how difficult it is for us to believe that! Most of you are aware that—several summers ago, at about this time—my younger brother John took his own life. It was an event our family will never forget—and never get over. It’s ironic that the name “John” is Hebrew for “God is Gracious.” “God is Gracious” was the name my parents gave him--and yet my brother couldn’t really believe that. He thought that God was punishing him. He said that God didn’t answer his prayers. He told me that even God couldn’t help him straighten out his life. My brother couldn’t see how many people were trying to help him in God’s Name. He couldn’t see how many were reaching out to him with God’s Love. And in the end—he gave up on God. Even so—I believe that God never gave up on John. God never gives up on any of us—even when we give up on God! Like the “Divine Fox”—God is indeed elusive. God’s ways are hidden and mysterious. Sometimes it seems that God must not care. But the truth is that “God is Gracious.” God is the Good Shepherd—who goes looking for every lost sheep. God is the woman—who turns the house upside down looking for every lost coin. God is the “Hound of Heaven”—who relentlessly pursues every human soul. And when God finds even one of us—and brings us home—there is great rejoicing! AMEN. |
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