The Candlemas of Our Salvation: On Jesus, Candles, and Groundhogs

Year A • The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple

Malachi 3:1–4 • Psalm 84 or 24:7–10 • Hebrews 2:14–18 • Luke 2:22–40

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The Sermon

Dear God, make known to us the salvation that

you have prepared in the presence of all peoples. Amen.

The Feast of the Presentation of Jesus — a.k.a., Candlemas

Today is the Fourth Sunday in the Season of Epiphany, but we are not actually celebrating the Fourth Sunday of Epiphany. Instead, we are celebrating the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple. This is a feast of the church year that is always celebrated on the Second of February. So, whenever the February 2nd falls on a Sunday, the Feast of the Presentation takes precedence.

     But why February 2nd? Because it is forty days after Christmas, forty days Mary gave birth to the Lord and Savior of the world. According to legislation laid down in the book of Leviticus, if a woman conceives and gives birth to a male child, she shall be ritually unclean for seven days. Afterwards, she enters into a period of purification that lasts for another thirty-three days. So for forty days after the birth of a baby boy, a woman couldn’t touch anything holy and she couldn’t enter the temple. At the end of the forty days, she would come to the temple to offer a sacrifice for her purification (Lev 12). That’s what Mary is doing at the outset of today’s Gospel. Her period of purification has concluded, and she has come to the temple to offer the appropriate sacrifice. So that’s why the Feast of the Presentation occurs on February 2nd.

Candlemas

By the way, this feast goes by another name, Candlemas. It used to be that this was the day of the year—when all the candles that were to be used during the coming year —were blessed. So it was known as the Feast, or the Mass of Candles, thus Candlemas. The first time ever heard the term was when I was attending the University of St. Andrews in Scotland. The Fall semester was called Martinmas, and the spring semester, Candlemas.

Groundhog Day

I should add that over the years some superstitions have grown up around Candle-mas. For example, there is a proverb about the weather that goes like this:

If Candlemas Day be fair and bright
      Winter will have another fight.
If Candlemas Day brings cloud and rain,
      Winter won’t come again.

Or, how about this little proverb from Germany.

The badger peeps out of his hole on Candlemas Day, and if he finds snow, walks abroad;     but if he sees the sun shining, he draws back into his hole.

Does any of this sound familiar? Clearly these proverbs regarding Candlemas stand behind our American tradition of Groundhog Day. But enough of superstitions, let’s get back to the gospel where we might find the truth that will challenge and inspire us.

The Holy Family

Luke’s account of the presentation of Jesus in the temple discloses some interesting and important details about the Holy Family.

     First, it emphasizes their commitment to the Old Testament covenant with Yahweh, the God of Israel. No less than five times are they described as acting in accordance with the Law, and these references to their covenant obedience serve as bookends to today’s episode. So in the opening scene, reference is made to “their purification according to the law of Moses,” to their presentation of their firstborn “as it is written in the law of the Lord,” and to their offering a sacrifice in accordance with what is “stated in the law of the Lord” (Luke 2:22­–24). Then, in the closing scene, they return to Nazareth having “finished everything required by the law of the Lord” (2:39).

     This is a faithful family; this is a religious family. This is the family that raised and nurtured the salvation of God—Israel’s Messiah and the world’s Light. Because we know Jesus to be the incarnate Son of God, I think we often overlook the fact that he grew up and matured like any other human being. He didn’t benefit from any spiritual shortcuts. He didn’t get to skip puberty. He didn’t get to skip stages of emotional, social, or spiritual development. He had to pass through every one of them as we do. This, I think, is part of the point that the author of Hebrews is trying to make.

Since the children [God has given him] share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things.... For it is clear that he did not come to help angels, but the descendants of Abraham. Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God,.... Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested (Hebrews 2:14–18).

There is no doubt in my mind that Jesus’ growth and development—his character, his strength, his wisdom, his compassion—everything that endeared him to God and human beings, all of it was shaped by his family, this holy, yet ordinary family who was committed to the covenant—to the worldview, values, beliefs, practices, and traditions of the people of God. That’s not to say that God was not at work in Jesus’ life. Far from it. It is to recognize that God’s work in Jesus’ life was in part—and I would say—was in large part mediated by Jesus’ religious and faithful family. This is something worth reflecting on.

     The second thing that today’s episode reveals about the holy family is their social status. They are poor. This, of course, comes as no surprise to Luke’s readers. In his account of Jesus’ birth, we are told that the infant king was wrapped in bands of cloth and laid in a feeding trough. Not exactly the clothing and furnishings of the rich and famous, nor even of the middle class, for that matter.[1] In today’s episode, we find additional evidence that Jesus’ family belonged to the very large peasant class of first-century Palestine. The clue is Mary’s sacrifice. According to Leviticus, when a mother’s days of purification are completed, she is to bring two offerings to the temple: a year-old lamb for a burnt offering and a pigeon or a turtledove for a sin offering. The law states, however, “if she cannot afford a sheep, she shall take two turtledoves or two pigeons” (Lev 12:8), which is exactly what Mary does.

     The holy family is poor; they are economically and socially challenged, which makes what is said about Jesus all the more remarkable. How is this child, this son of a carpenter, going to bring glory to Israel and salvation to all the nations of the world? How is this eldest son of a poor family, with all of the obstacles and limitations that entails, going to turn the world and its systems of injustice upside-down? This is something worth thinking about. Jesus was the firstborn of peasants. The Son of God is a peasant. That’s why there is no fanfare when this infant king comes into the temple, into his temple. Recall the words from the prophet Malachi:

See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me,
and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple (Mal 3:1).

“The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple.” Malachi said he was coming, but nobody was watching, so nobody noticed when the young Master entered his temple. Well, that’s not exactly true. In my sermon on Christmas Day, I said that God entered the world quietly, that he wanted to keep his arrival a secret. But I also noted that God isn’t very good at keeping secrets, especially where his Son is concerned. So, God let it slip to some homeless shepherds that his son had been born in a stable. Likewise, when God’s six-week-old Son makes his first trip to the temple, his first visit to his heavenly Father’s house, God let it slip again. He just had to let a few more people in on the secret. And, unlike the shepherds, we know their names.

Simeon and Anna

Simeon and Anna are not related, but they share a number of things in common. They are both quite old (and God sure seems to like old people). They are both aware of what God is doing in the world, having attuned themselves to the movements of the Spirit. And, they are both awaiting the redemption and restoration of Israel. Recall, at the time of Jesus’ birth, God’s people had been subject to foreign domination for the better part of five hundred years, and most recently they had endured six decades of foreign occupation by the Roman legions. So it is not surprising that Anna—eighty-four-year-old, animated Anna—goes about the temple precincts, telling anyone who will listen about this special child. After all, she was alive before the Romans came; she knew what life had been like. And it is of no great wonder that Simeon is so overjoyed having finally setting his eyes on the one God has appointed to deliver his people from their bondage. Simeon picks up the child and blesses God for he knows that what he holds in his hands is God’s salvation, not only for Israel, but for the whole world.

     But it is not all salt and light. Simeon blesses Mary and Joseph, but the words he speaks to Mary are filled with dark things to come.

“This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel,” he says, “and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too (Luke 2:34b–35).

For the past few weeks, as I have read and studied this passage, as I have allowed it to play in my thoughts and prayers, I have been repeatedly brought back to these portentous words of Simeon’s. And I am not exactly sure what to make of them. I mean, on the one hand, it’s fairly clear what Simeon talking about. When Jesus becomes older, he is going to make some waves. He is going to challenge some cherished traditions, and he is going to frighten and anger some very powerful people. He will be betrayed by one of his closest associates, he will be rejected by the leaders of his people, and they will deliver him up for destruction. And through it all, his mother will be there, watching in horror, unable to lift a finger. Surely, this is the sword that will pierce her soul. But… I wonder. I wonder if she will feel the prick of that unfeeling blade long before she sees her beaten, bruised, and bloodied son hanging from a Roman cross. I wonder. When Jesus turns twelve, he will stay behind in Jerusalem, and it will take his parents three frantic days to find him. And when they finally do, he will dismiss their anxiety with a matter-of-fact question, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Luke says that Mary treasured all these things in her heart, but I wonder if she noticed the sword among all those treasures.

Later, when Jesus is older, he will leave his hometown and moves to Capernaum. He will travel about the occupied region proclaiming the arrival of God’s kingdom. Mary will get concerned and come to visit him with her other sons. When they arrive, there will be so many people that they cannot get to him. When word reaches Jesus that his mother and brothers are outside wanting to see him, he turns to the crowd and says, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it” (Luke 8:20). I wonder, will she feel the sword then?   

     And I also wonder, will we feel this sword? The author of Hebrews writes that “the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (4:12). Well, Jesus is the Word of God, and Simeon said that he would “be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed”(Luke 2:). I wonder, are we among those whose inner thoughts will be revealed. I kind of think we are, because there have been times in my life where the inner thoughts of my heart were laid bare. Sometimes it’s been a pleasant surprise, but mostly it has been painful, at least initially. God shines the light of Christ into the dark recesses of our hearts. God already knows what he will find there, and so he is not shocked by what the light reveals. We, however, we who are good at hiding from ourselves, we can become frightened by what is revealed. Like the groundhog who sees his shadow and so retreats into his borough, we are tempted to retreat back into our boroughs, hoping to hide ourselves until winter has passed.

     But that would be a mistake, for that would be to miss out on the salvation that awaits us. For when the light of Christ reveals the darkness of our hearts, it is not to judge us as unworthy, nor is it to punish us; it is, in fact, to set us free. For only that which is revealed by the light of Christ can be healed. The light of Christ is the light of salvation. It is a sword that cuts without wounding. It is a sword that heals, for it is a sword wielded by our Creator in grace, mercy, and love.

     And so, on this day of Candlemas, on this Feast of Lights, let us celebrate the Light that shines into the darkness, which the darkness is not able to extinguish. and with Anna and Simeon, let us rejoice in the salvation that God through Christ has prepared for all the world to see.

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

---

[1] Sometimes, we assume that Jesus must have grown up in the middle-class, because he was the son of a carpenter. But in first-century Palestine, there really wasn’t much of a middle-class to speak of, and in any case, carpenters weren’t associated with the middle class, but with the peasantry. Why? Because if you carried on a trade that wasn’t connected to agriculture, it was a possible indication that your family had at one point lost its ancestral lands.

The Scriptures

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god’s little secret • the mystery of the incarnation

Year A • Christmas Day, Proper III
Isaiah 52:7–10 • Psalm 98 • Hebrews 1:1–4, (5–12) • John 1:1-14
(Scroll Down for the Texts of the Scriptures)

Sermon available on YouTube by clicking here.

Sermon available as a PDF by clicking here.

The Sermon

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet

of the messenger who announces peace,

who brings good news, who announces salvation,

who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”

(Isaiah 52:7)

God Entered the World Quietly

Well, today is the day, the day we’ve been waiting for, the day we’ve been preparing for, the day we’ve been anticipating, the day of our Lord and Savior’s birth…. Well, not exactly, because the birth happened last night; it happened in the middle of the night while we were sleeping. We missed it; the whole world missed it, save for a few shepherds who received an angelic birth announcement while watching their flocks by night. You see, God entered the world quietly. God didn’t want the world to know he had arrived. But not even God could keep a secret, not when it came to the birth of his one and only Son. God just had to tell somebody, and look who he chose: some homeless guys who lived out of doors, who worked at a job that nobody wanted, and who nobody is going to believe anyway. And so, God’s secret is safe, at least, for the time being.

     But why would God want to keep his arrival on earth a secret? Because God didn’t want to frighten us away. You see, something is wrong with us, something inside of us is broken. And that something is something that only God can fix. But here is the problem. That something which is broken also makes us terrified of God, so terrified that God has a hard time getting close enough to us to heal us with his gracious and loving presence.

Original Blessing

It all began a long time ago with Adam and Eve, our first parents. In the beginning, God fashioned a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and this man, this Adam, became a living being. And yet, though he was alive, he was not yet human, not fully, in any case. We know this because God says of him, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper as his partner” (Gen 2:15). God then fashions various animals from the same dust that the man had been fashioned from, but none of these are adequate. It is not until God forms a woman that a suitable partner is found. It is not until there is both male and female that there is humanity; for it is in our maleness and femaleness, in our interrelatedness and in our interdependence, that we human beings are able to fulfill our vocation to reflect the glory of God, for God himself is a community of interrelated, inter-dependent persons. Together Adam and Eve have been created in the image of God, together they serve as the image-bearers of God in creation. They are united to one another and to God. They are naked and unashamed. This is what we call, Original Blessing.

Original Shame

But then something goes wrong. Adam and Eve are in Eden, and the Lord God has given them all of the trees of the Garden for food, all but one. They even have access to the Tree of Life. Yet, in the end, they partake of the Forbidden tree, the tree that promises the Knowledge of Good and Evil. And something happens. Whatever it was that they ate, something about the fruit of that tree changed them, and not for the better. In an instant, their eyes are opened wide, and they become acutely, uncomfortably aware of their own nakedness—their vulnerability, their weakness, their dependence—and for the first time, they experience shame. They are naked and ashamed; they cannot bear to be in one another’s presence for the presence of the other simply serves to make them all the more aware of their own nakedness. So they attempt to cover their shame, but fig leaves can only do so much.

     At this point in our story, we must pause to make an observation. Notice, as of yet, God has not arrived on the scene. This is important because it suggests that the guilt and shame our first parents experienced was not the guilt and shame of being caught in the act. We all know what that feels like, to have our hands in the cookie jar, as it were, and to hear the voice, “What are you doing?” No, it wasn’t the shame of getting caught that Adam and Eve experienced, but something much, much deeper.

     When finally God does arrive, taking what appears to be his daily afternoon walk, he finds Eden empty, deserted. For Adam and Eve, upon hearing the Lord’s approaching footsteps, hid themselves. Their makeshift clothing gave them enough coverage so that they could stand to be in one another’s presence; it wasn’t, however, able to shield them from the shame they felt in God’s presence. And so they, like we, hide

Once again, let’s be very clear. Adam and Eve are not hiding out of a fear of being punished. It’s not that they heard the Lord stomping through the undergrowth, bellowing, “What did I tell you?,” and so hid to avoid his disappointment and wrath. After all, as the story goes, the Lord seems generally surprised to find his children missing. It is only when he discovers that they have hidden themselves in shame that he makes the connection that they must have eaten from the Tree of Knowledge. So once again, the guilt and shame of Eden goes well beyond the guilt of getting caught and goes far deeper than the fear of punishment. Whatever the Tree of Knowledge did to them, it rendered them incapable of being comfortable in God’s presence. For Adam and Eve—and for all of their unborn children—God’s presence was no longer a blessing, but a curse. This is what we might call, Original Shame; and it is this shame—a deep-rooted sense of our own nakedness, a debilitating sense of our own unworthiness—it is this shame that underlies all our human brokenness, it is this shame that lies at the root of all human sin and violence, all human suffering and death.

The Lord’s Dilemma

And there is only one remedy to our predicament. Only God’s loving and gracious presence can heal us of our sense of shame and alienation, but therein lies the rub. God cannot get close enough to his children to heal them. When God appears, his children head for cover. God’s presence holds the key to their deliverance, but God’s presence is too much to bear. We see examples of this throughout the Old Testament.

For example, after the glorious Exodus from Egypt, when the Lord rescued his people from their Egyptian taskmasters, he led them through the wilderness to Mt. Sinai. There he enters into a covenant with his people. “You will be my people, and I will be your God.” But the people are afraid. When they draw near to the mountain to ratify the covenant, they cry out to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, [lest] we … die” (Exod 20:19). God’s people want a mediator; they want someone to stand between them and God. They don’t want to have to deal with God directly. They want someone to shield them from God, someone to shield them from the fear and guilt that are triggered when they are in the presence of God. Clearly they do not experience God’s presence as a blessing, but a curse.

As another example, take the prophet Isaiah. In Isaiah 6, the prophet is ushered into the heavenly temple, into the holy of holies. And there he sees the Lord sitting on a throne “high and lofty” (Isa 6:1). Angels of fire are in attendance, and they fly to and fro, calling out to one another”

          Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;
          the whole earth is filled with his glory (Isa 6:3).

     It’s a glorious vision, but one that Isaiah cannot enjoy. For when he finds himself in the Lord’s presence, instead of reveling in the glory of God, all he can think about is his own sin and that of his people.

          Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips,
          and I live among a people of unclean lips (Isa 6:5).

Once again, God’s presence is experienced as a curse instead of a blessing.

And so, God is faced with a dilemma. How can he draw close enough to his people, to heal them of their shame and guilt when his presence reminds them all the more of their brokenness, when his love and grace triggers their own deep sense of unworthiness? It’s a dilemma any parent can appreciate. You who are parents, how often have you gone to a child to love, to forgive, or to comfort them only to find that your presence seems to intensify their pain, their feelings of embarrassment, guilt, or shame? They need you, yet your presence is to much too bear. This is God’s dilemma.

The Mystery of the Incarnation

The Word Became Flesh

So how did God resolve the dilemma? By slipping into our world under the cloak of humanity. Our reading from John says it all: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14a). The Word, who was with God in the beginning and who is in fact very God of very God, this Word became flesh. More precisely, this eternal Word of God—through whom all of creation came into being—this Word became a particular flesh-and-blood human being… Jesus of Nazareth… the son of Mary. This is the great mystery of the Incarnation. In Jesus, or better yet, as Jesus, God was able to draw close to humanity, close enough to heal us of our shame and guilt and to remove whatever we have placed between ourselves and God. Had God appeared in all of his glory, humanity would have scattered in fear. As it is, God’s appearing in the garb of humanity made it possible for God to operate undetected in his creation, long enough at least to set in motion the restoration of humanity.

The Word’s Flesh both Conceals and Reveals

But the mystery of the Incarnation is even greater, for the flesh that allowed God to get close to us because it cloaked God’s glory, also revealed God’s glory. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). The flesh of Jesus served both to conceal and to reveal God’s glory. But how is that possible? God is the Creator of the heavens and earth. To become a creature within his creation, God had to empty himself, God had to humble himself. And yet, it is in God’s humility, in the humility of the incarnation that God’s glory is most fully revealed. When God—in the person of the Son—became a flesh-and-blood human being, this was something new for God, something God had never done before. Yet, in becoming a particular human being, God did not do anything that was alien to God’s character; for God is by nature humble; God is by nature self-emptying love. So the incarnation is an act of humility, but this is precisely what makes it an act of revelation.

This mystery is critical for our whole understanding of who God is and for the whole enterprise of human salvation. To say that God emptied himself is not to say that God had to leave some of his divinity behind. God did not have to abandon some of his Godness in order to become human. When the Word became Jesus, it did not thereby cease being the Word. Consequently, in Jesus, we are not getting some watered-down version of God, we are getting God in all of God’s fullness. So writes the author of Hebrews:

Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being (Heb 1:1­–3a).

I will say it again, in Jesus, we are not getting some watered-down version of God. Jesus is the full and final and decisive revelation of who God is. In Jesus, we are getting God in all of God’s glory, and yet, that glory comes to us in a form that we fearful, shame-filled human beings are able to bear. For in Jesus, in the Word-become-flesh, God has come close enough to heal us with his loving and gracious presence.

From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known (John 1:16–18).

Christmas Has Just Begun

The Mystery of the Incarnation is the remedy to all that ails us. In Jesus, God in all his glory has drawn close to us, and in Jesus, God makes it possible for us to draw close to him. I don’t know how successful you were this holiday season in drawing close to God. Our world makes it very, very difficult with all of its busyness, which is simply the world’s way of distracting itself from the pain of shame that it clings to. And unfortunately, even we Christians can get caught up in it all.

But let me leave you with a word of encouragement. God knows how hard it is for us. God lived as one of us. So God understands.

Let me say this as well. If in your busyness and distractedness, you feel that you missed Christmas this year, I will let you in on a secret. You haven’t miss Christmas; you only missed Advent. Christmas has just begun. Today is the first day of Christmas, and there are Twelve more days of Christmas to come. So rejoice, for today “breaks a new and glorious morn.”

Happy Christmas!

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Scriptures

RCL, Year A, Christmas Day, Proper III

Isaiah 52:7–10 • Psalm 98 • Hebrews 1:1–4, (5–12) • John 1:1-14

Collect

O God, you make us glad by the yearly festival of the birth of your only Son Jesus Christ: Grant that we, who joyfully receive him as our Redeemer, may with sure confidence behold him when he comes to be our Judge; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

or this

O God, you have caused this holy night to shine with the brightness of the true Light: Grant that we, who have known the mystery of that Light on earth, may also enjoy him perfectly in heaven; where with you and the Holy Spirit he lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

or this

Almighty God, you have given your only-begotten Son to take our nature upon him, and to be born [this day] of a pure virgin: Grant that we, who have been born again and made your children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by your Holy Spirit; through our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom with you and the same Spirit be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen.

Isaiah 52:7–10

How beautiful upon the mountains

are the feet of the messenger who announces peace,

who brings good news,

who announces salvation,

who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”

Listen! Your sentinels lift up their voices,

together they sing for joy;

for in plain sight they see

the return of the Lord to Zion.

Break forth together into singing,

you ruins of Jerusalem;

for the Lord has comforted his people,

he has redeemed Jerusalem.

The Lord has bared his holy arm

before the eyes of all the nations;

and all the ends of the earth shall see

the salvation of our God.

Psalm 98 • Cantate Domino • (BCP 727)

1      Sing to the Lord a new song, *

               for he has done marvelous things.

2      With his right hand and his holy arm *

               has he won for himself the victory.

3      The Lord has made known his victory; *

               his righteousness has he openly shown in the sight of the nations.

4      He remembers his mercy and faithfulness to the house of Israel, *

               and all the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God.

5      Shout with joy to the Lord, all you lands; *

               lift up your voice, rejoice, and sing.

6      Sing to the Lord with the harp, *

               with the harp and the voice of song.

7      With trumpets and the sound of the horn *

               shout with joy before the King, the Lord.

8      Let the sea make a noise and all that is in it, *

               the lands and those who dwell therein.

9      Let the rivers clap their hands, *

               and let the hills ring out with joy before the Lord, 

               when he comes to judge the earth.

10     In righteousness shall he judge the world *

               and the peoples with equity.

Hebrews 1:1–4 (5–12)

Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word. When he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.

[For to which of the angels did God ever say,

     “You are my Son;

     today I have begotten you”?

Or again, 

     “I will be his Father,

     and he will be my Son”?

And again, when he brings the firstborn into the world, he says,

     “Let all God’s angels worship him.”

Of the angels he says,

     “He makes his angels winds,

     and his servants flames of fire.”

But of the Son he says,

     “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever,

     and the righteous scepter is the scepter of your kingdom.

     You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness;

     therefore God, your God, has anointed you

     with the oil of gladness beyond your companions.”

And,

     “In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth,

     and the heavens are the work of your hands;

     they will perish, but you remain;

     they will all wear out like clothing;

     like a cloak you will roll them up,

     and like clothing they will be changed.

     But you are the same,

     and your years will never end.”]

John 1:1-14

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

Delivered on Wednesday, December 25th, a.d. 2013

at St. John's Episcopal Church (Wichita, Kansas)

scriptural indigestion

Year C • 26th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 28
Malachi 4:1–2a • Psalm 98 • 2 Thessalonians 3:6–13 • Luke 21:5–19

Sermon available as a PDF by clicking here.

(Scroll Down for the Texts of the Scriptures)

The Sermon

Let the rivers clap their hands,
and let the hills ring out with joy before the Lord,

when he comes to judge the earth.

In righteousness shall he judge the world
and the peoples with equity.

(Psalm 98:9­–10)

The End is Near! Don't Prepare!

In today’s reading from the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus predicts the future destruction of the city of Jerusalem and its temple. “The days will come,” Jesus says, “when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down” (Luke 21:6). Then, addressing his disciples, Jesus gives them a warning:

But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict (21:12­–15).

That last sentence really struck me: “Make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict” (21:14–15)…. Now, I take the Bible very seriously, and I try to make the Scriptures relevant to my life. So as I meditated on this passage, this is what I heard. “Make up your mind not to prepare your sermon in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.” Well that might save some time. So I toyed with the idea of not preparing my sermon in advance, … but alas, I couldn’t do it. In the end, I just didn’t have enough faith not to prepare. Now, in my own defense, I would argue that Jesus’ words do not really apply to my situation. For example, I was not arrested or persecuted, I am neither in a synagogue nor in a prison, and as far as I am aware, none of you are kings or governors. And so, I think I am safe. But I am sorry… because I am sure that the sermon I didn’t prepare to preach… would have been much better than the one I did prepare.

Hear • Read • Mark • Learn • Inwardly Digest

Today, I would like to begin our reflections by looking at the Collect for the Day, which is printed on the first page of your bulletin.

X Rite I. Blessed Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be writ-ten for our learning: Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that, by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Savior Jesus Christ….

 X Rite II. Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ….

According to this Collect, the Scriptures are designed to lead us into and to help us embrace eternal life. But let’s be very clear. When Jesus and the Bible talk about eternal life, they aren’t simply talking about a life that is far off and far away, a life that awaits us in some distant future and some disembodied place. No, when Jesus and the Bible talk about eternal life, they are talking about life, right here and right now. They are talking about the eternal kind of life that Jesus ushered into human history. It’s the life of the kingdom of God, a life lived under God’s administration, a life empowered by God’s love and grace. With all that being said, it is also true that while we live the eternal kind of life in the here and now, we do not experience the fullness of this life. The heavenly banquet, that banquet where we shall feast with God and God’s people in God’s kingdom, it still awaits us. Nevertheless, we are able to taste (or partake of) it now. We taste it when we gather around the Lord’s table. And we taste it, when we gather together to hear the Word of God, to read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest God’s life-giving and life-sustaining Word.

Feasting on the Word

The Bible is filled with the imagery of feasting on the Word. For example, in Deuteronomy, when Moses is preparing the Israelites to enter the Promised Land, he reminds them to remember what the Lord did to sustain them during their forty-year sojourn in the wilderness. He says, “[The Lord] humbled you by letting you hunger, then by feeding you with manna, with which neither you nor your ancestors were acquainted, in order to make you understand… that one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Deut 8:3). Of course, this is the same Scripture that Jesus quotes to the devil, when he suggests that Jesus satisfy his hunger by turning stones into bread. “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matt 4:4).

     Turning to Psalm 119, we hear the psalmist exclaim in rapturous tones, “How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” (Psalm 119:103). What an apt image. Honey is not something that one swallows quickly. Instead, we savor it as long as possible; we mull it around in our mouths so that every taste bud comes into contact with its sweetness. This is what it means to hear and read and mark and learn and inwardly digest the Word of God in the Scriptures. We must savor the Scriptures; we must mull them around in our hearts, and our minds, and our guts until every particle of our being is touched by the Word of God. Why? Because the Word of God is life itself. In the beginning, God spoke, and life happened. The Word that God speaks, expresses who God is. The Word that God is, embodies God’s character, and God’s Spirit, and God’s purposes for the world. So when we hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the Scriptures, we are in fact taking God into ourselves, so that we might be animated by the life of God, so that we might acquire God’s character, so that we might be transformed and empowered by God’s Spirit to carry out God’s purposes in the world. We are what we eat. We feed on the Word of God so that in turn we might become God’s Word to a spiritually starved and hungry world.

Scriptural Indigestion

Now I am sure that this all sounds very articulate and inspiring, but there’s a question that needs to be asked? A question that may have already occurred to some of you? What do we do with those difficult passages of the Bible?

     If you have spent any time at all in the Bible, then you have no doubt come across passages that you have some serious questions about, for example, passages about God’s anger and judgment. Take today’s reading from Malachi 4. Now, we only heard read the first few verses, but I want to read a bit further. 

See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall. And you shall tread down the wicked, for they will be ashes under the soles of your feet, on the day when I act, says the Lord of hosts (4:1­–3).

     That seems pretty severe. So what are we to do? Are we really expected to hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest a difficult text like this. Won’t that give us a sour stomach? If this is your question, then you are not alone. On at least two occasions, the Bible narrates a story in which a prophet is instructed to eat a scroll, the idea being that by consuming the words of God they will be able to speak for God. On both occasions, the scroll is said to taste as sweet as honey, after all it is the Word of God, but on one occasion, the consumer get’s indigestion. In Revelation, John describes his experience: “I took the little scroll from the hand of the angel and ate it; it was sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it, my stomach was mad bitter” (Rev 10:10). Why bitter? Because the contents of the scroll, the message that John had to deliver, was one of judgment; it was a call for repentance.

     The fact is, some Christians and some Christian traditions relish texts of judgment and destruction in the Bible, while others avoid them altogether. Yet, neither extreme does justice to the Bible or to God; neither approach prepares us to follow Jesus and to participate in what God is doing in the world. We need to wrestle with difficult texts, we need to hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, even if it does lead to some abdominal discomfort. Why? Because such texts reveal something of who God is.

For example, difficult texts often reveal what God loves and highly values and therefore lifts up what we are called to love and value. So in Malachi, the Lord criticizes and condemns the priests because they have corrupted the sacrificial system.

A son honors his father, and servants their master. If then I am a father, where is the honor due me? And if I am a master, where is the respect due me? says the Lord of hosts to you, O priests, who despise my name. … When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not wrong? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not wrong? Try presenting that to your governor; will he be pleased with you or show you favor? … Oh, that someone among you would shut the temple1 doors, so that you would not kindle fire on my altar in vain! I have no pleasure in you, says the Lord of hosts, and I will not accept an offering from your hands.… You bring what has been taken by violence or is lame or sick, and this you bring as your offering! Shall I accept that from your hand?

Again, these are very harsh words, but in their harshness, they express what God loves and values. The temple priests were seeking to secure God’s favor and blessing, and yet they showed contempt the things of God. And if they despised God in such a blatant way, how much more do you think they despised the people who came to present their sacrifices, the people who came to offer up their sins, their sorrows, and their thanksgivings to the Lord. The priests were called to be a means of grace; they were called to mediate God’s love and forgiveness; they were called to bless God’s people so that God’s people could be a blessing; but they despised their calling and so they fell under God’s judgment and became the objects of God’s wrath. God loves humanity with a ferocious love, and sometimes God expresses that love with a ferocity that can be truly terrifying. We see it in the Old Testament; we see it in the Gospels. Sometimes God appears to us like Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia. Aslan is a gentle and loving lion, yet he is not a tame lion. Likewise, God is gentle and loving, but he is not a tame.

     God is always good and loving and out to do us good, but God is not always nice. God’s judgment and wrath is always in service to God’s love, but it doesn’t always feel good. The Word of God in Holy Scripture is always life-giving, but it does not always taste like honey. To avoid the difficult texts of the Bible is an attempt to domesticate God, to make God into something that we are comfortable with, but we need to resist that temptation. As the community of God’s people, we need to hear, read, mark, and learn difficult passages of Scripture, we need the bitter herbs of Scripture because they are part of God’s story and they remind us what God loves and values in this world and therefore they bring life.

     There is so much more that could and should be said about this, and I feel that I may have done some of you a bit of disservice today, but let me leave you with two bits of advice. First of all, don’t go it alone. Partaking of Holy Scripture is first and foremost a communal activity, just as partaking of Holy Eucharist is a communal activity. That’s not to say that we cannot read the Bible on our own, but it is to say that our reading of the Bible occurs within the community of God’s people. Why? Because we need support, and because Holy Scripture seeks to develop our capacity to love and be loved, which requires community.

Secondly, take everything to God. That is, as you spend time with Scripture, as you listen to it, as you read it, as you repeat it to yourself, as you mull it over in your heart and in your mind, as you do whatever it takes to get the Word of God deep inside you, pay attention to the thoughts and feelings that arise within you, and then offer those up to God, even if, and especially if, those thoughts and feelings are not pleasant. If the Word of God gives you indigestion, then tell God, complain to God, give God what for. Why? Because God can take it, and because in the end, engaging Holy Scripture is all about relationship with God, it is all about encountering and being encountered by the God of the Bible, a God who loves you with such ferocity that he will go to the ends of the earth to draw you unto himself, and he will never let you go.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Scriptures

RCL, Year C, Proper 28, Thematic Track

Malachi 4:1–2a

See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.

Psalm 98 (BCP 727–728)

    1      Sing to the Lord a new song, *
                     for he has done marvelous things.

    2      With his right hand and his holy arm *
                     has he won for himself the victory.

    3      The Lord has made known his victory; *
                     his righteousness has he openly shown in the sight of the nations.

    4      He remembers his mercy and faithfulness to the house of Israel, *
                     and all the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God.

    5      Shout with joy to the Lord, all you lands; *
                     lift up your voice, rejoice, and sing.

    6      Sing to the Lord with the harp, *
                     with the harp and the voice of song.

    7      With trumpets and the sound of the horn *
                     shout with joy before the King, the Lord.

    8      Let the sea make a noise and all that is in it, *
                     the lands and those who dwell therein.

    9      Let the rivers clap their hands, *
                     and let the hills ring out with joy before the Lord,

                     when he comes to judge the earth.

  10      In righteousness shall he judge the world *
                     and the peoples with equity.

2 Thessalonians 3:6–13

Now we command you, beloved, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to keep away from believers who are living in idleness and not according to the tradition that they received from us. For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us; we were not idle when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone’s bread without paying for it; but with toil and labor we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you. This was not because we do not have that right, but in order to give you an example to imitate. For even when we were with you, we gave you this command: Anyone unwilling to work should not eat. For we hear that some of you are living in idleness, mere busybodies, not doing any work. Now such persons we command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right.

Luke 21:5–19

When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, Jesus said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”

     They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, `I am he!’ and, `The time is near!’ Do not go after them.

     “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.

     “But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.”

Delivered on Sunday, November 24th, a.d. 2013

at St. John's Episcopal Church (Wichita, Kansas)

the god of the jesus prayer

Year C • 23rd Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 25
Sirach 35:12­–17 • Psalm 84:1–6 • 2 Timothy 4:6–8, 16–18 • Luke 18:9–14

(Scroll Down for the Texts of the Scriptures)

Delivered on Sunday, October 27th, a.d. 2013

at St. John's Episcopal Church (Wichita, Kansas)

Sermon available as a PDF by clicking here.

The Sermon

Happy are they who dwell in your house, [O Lord]! 
they will always be praising you.

(Psalm 84:3)

God is Good and Loving and Out to Get Me!

I grew up in the church, and I loved it. Church was one of my favorite places to be. I was baptized as an infant, confirmed as a pre-teen, and had a very powerful and transformative spiritual experience when I was 14 or 15. I attended Sunday school, and I served as an acolyte, week in and week out. I loved participating in the liturgy, and I read and studied the Bible with great regularity and interest. I loved God, and I loved Jesus. By the time I was ready to graduate from high school, I was thoroughly convinced that God was good… and loving… and out to get me. Yes, I believed that God was good and loving and out to get me, and at the time, I saw no contradiction.

Now I don’t have time to explain how I came to view God in this way, but I will say that my distorted image of who God was seriously affected how I prayed. At times, I didn’t pray at all. At other times, I limited my prayers. For example, I stopped praying for things that I wanted or even needed. Why? Because I was convinced that if I asked God for something, God would make a concerted effort to ensure that I didn’t get what I asked for. Praying just drew God’s attention. So I learned that it was better not to pray. Better not to pray than to risk God sabotaging my dreams.

God was good and loving and out to get me, and I had plenty of evidence to support my hypothesis. For example, when I was about 11 or 12 or 13 years old, I got one of those nasty colds that settles in your eyes. The kind where your vision is slightly blurred, and you keep blinking to clear them up but to no avail. I was miserable, and I remember praying, “Dear God, can you please take this eye cold away. Just give me a regular cold instead, but please, O please, can’t you clear up my eyes.” Well, you can guess what happened. Within in a few days time, I was sneezing and coughing AND blinking my eyes. I now had a cold in my chest AND in my eyes. I remember then going to church to acolyte for midnight mass. I was vesting in the sacristy, and I told my priest about my prayer and what became of it. He just laughed and said, “Yeah, you’ve got to be careful about what you pray for.” That confirmed it for me. God was good and loving and out to get me.

God is Good and Loving and Out to Do Me Good!

When I entered college as a religion major at Friends University, this distorted image of God was firmly in place. But something happened during my junior year. Through reading and studying, through important friendships, and through the messages of guest speakers that came to the University, my images of who God was and of who I was began to be healed and transformed. That year, one of the speakers at chapel gave a talk on the radical, unconditional love of God. His name was Brennan Manning, and he had written a book entitled, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out. It was a painful, yet transformative year. I became increasingly convinced that God was not only good and loving but that he was out to do me good. I say it was a painful year because while I was convinced of this truth in my head, I had such a hard time getting my heart to follow suit. I just couldn’t seem to get this truth to take up residence in my gut, which is really where faith resides. I could offer up all manner of biblical and theological arguments for why God was good and loving and out to do me good, and for why I was beautiful and precious in God’s sight, but my gut always betrayed me. In my head, I knew God loved me; but I was still afraid.

And so, do you know what I began to do? I began to pray again. Specifically, I began to pray for things that I needed, even things that I wanted, big things and small things. It didn’t matter because if God were truly out to do me good, then I should be able to trust God with anything, no matter how small or great, no matter how noble or selfish. Early on, when I began to pray this way, my stomach would get all tied up in knots and I would panic because my old, distorted image of God would stir up feelings of fear and anxiety. When this occurred, I would simply remind myself: “God is good and loving and out to do me good. God is good and loving and out to do me good. This is true. Even though my gut is not convinced, this is still true, and so I am going to act as if it is true. I am going to pray as if it is true. I am no longer going to hide anything from God. Instead, I am going to step out in faith. I am going to trust God enough to offer up to him all of my wishes, wants, and needs, all of my hopes and dreams.” And do you know what happened? Over time, my trust in God’s goodness began to take root and my fear and anxiety were slowly replaced by freedom and peace.

This experience taught me something important, something that Christians throughout the centuries have known, namely, that praying shapes believing. That is, how we pray to God informs and reinforces what we believe about God. At one point in my life, I believed that God was out to get me, so I stopped asking God for anything, and that practice of hiding from God served to reinforce my distorted image of who God was. It became a downward spiral because praying shapes believing. But then the truth of who God really is broke into my life and I began to understand that God was on my side, that God not only loved me but he liked me. And when I began to step out in faith, when I began to risk asking God for what I wanted and needed, my faith began to flourish because praying shapes believing.

The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax-Collector

Last week Jesus told us a parable about our need to pray always and not to lose heart. In it, a curmudgeon of a judge rules in a widow’s favor, not because he is concerned about justice and fairness, he’s not, but because the widow wears him down with her repeated demands for justice. Speaking to those of us who think God must be similarly worn down before He will act on our behalf, Jesus says: “Will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them” (Luke 18:7­–8a).

Jesus then follows this parable with another parable about prayer and justice, which we heard read today. It is a parable about two men, the one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector, both of whom have gone up to the Jerusalem temple to offer up prayers to God. I would like to take a few moments to look at their prayers, the posture of their prayers and the content of their prayers, to see how their prayers reflect and shape their views about who God is.

The Posture of Their Prayers

     First of all, imagine if you will, the temple complex in Jerusalem, at the center of which stands the temple proper, where only priests are allowed. Leading up to the temple are a series of courts—the court of the Gentiles, the court of women, and the court of Israel, where only Jewish males are allowed to pray and where our Pharisee and our tax-collector are to be found. Imagine also, large crowds, hundreds upon hundreds of Jewish pilgrims, offering up their prayers to God, eyes toward heaven and praying aloud. It’s very noisy; it’s very crowded.

      The Pharisee, however, is “standing by himself.” He has separated himself from the other pilgrims, those whom he despises, giving thanks to God that he is not like any of them—thieves, rogues, and adulterers. The tax-collector also stands apart, but for very different reasons. It’s all that he can do just to be there in that place, so close to God and, at the same time, so aware of his own sin, shame, and helplessness. And so, he stands far off, beating his breast, with his head downcast, not even daring to look up to heaven.

The Content of Their Prayers

     The content of their prayers is as different as their postures. The Pharisee offers God an inventory of his spiritual virtues and practices. “I fast, not once but, twice a week; and I give a tenth of everything I take in.” In other words, the Pharisee identifies those things that cause him to stand out from the crowd, in the hope that God will notice him, that God will commend him for his faithfulness, and on that basis will love and accept him. He is desperate for his heavenly Father’s love and acceptance, and he seeks to secure it through his performance. He is like prodigal son’s elder brother who says to his father, “I have worked like a slave for you all these years, and I have never once disobeyed you.” With his prayer, the Pharisee seeks to show that he is worthy of God’s love, and consequently, he cannot go home justified. He cannot go home at peace with God, not simply because he despises other men, but because he believes that God’s love is conditional. So long as he believes that his relationship with God is dependent upon his own performance and virtue, he will never be at peace with God. His prayer reinforces a distorted image of who God is.

      The tax collector is also desperate for his heavenly Father’s love and acceptance. But, unlike the Pharisee, he does not have anything to offer to God. He does not have anything to commend himself other than his sin, guilt, and shame. And so, with nothing to offer, he simply throws himself upon God’s mercy. During the past few weeks, as I have reflected upon this parable, my thoughts were repeatedly drawn to the simplicity of the tax-collector’s prayer. What struck me was how different his prayer was from the Pharisee’s, though not exactly its opposite. The Pharisee lists his virtues, but the tax-collector doesn’t list his vices. He does not offer up a litany of sins, but simply asks for mercy. “God, have mercy on me, sinner that I am.” It’s a simple prayer, born no doubt out of desperation, but also born of faith. Why do I say faith? Because his paucity of words reflects an abundance of trust in God. The tax-collector’s prayer reminds me of a book I once read; it had a chapter entitled, “If God Is So Smart, Why Am I Doing All the Talking?”

Unlike the Pharisee, the tax-collector doesn’t do all the talking. He doesn’t use many words. He doesn’t have to because God is pretty smart. Moreover, God is pretty trustworthy. Jesus once said, “When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matt 6:7–8). God knew what the tax-collector needed, so it was enough for him to pray, “Lord have mercy.” The tax-collector came to the temple with nothing, and he went home with everything. He went home justified, reconciled to God and therefore at peace.

Prayer Cultivates Faith

What we pray and how we pray, shapes how and what we believe about God. And so, we need a practice of prayer that reminds us of God’s goodness and faithfulness. Stewardship is about taking care of the resources that God has placed within our care. Stewardship, however, is not simply about maintaining what we have been given, it is also about cultivating and multiplying those resources, be they time, talent, or treasure. In the past several weeks, we’ve heard that faith is not something we create, rather it is a gift from God. But for faith to flourish, it must be cultivated. Like a grain of wheat, faith has great potential for growing and producing more faith. Yet, like a grain of wheat, faith’s potential can lie dormant. Faith must be planted in our hearts and minds, in our bodies and in our guts at the core of our being. For faith to flourish, it must be cultivated, and prayer is one of the principal methods because praying shapes believing.

During this stewardship campaign, I would commend the tax-collector’s prayer to you, either in its longer form, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner,” or in its shorter form, “Lord, have mercy.” Take five minutes a day to sit down and slowly repeat these words over and over again, either silently or quietly aloud. “Lord, have mercy on me. Lord, have mercy on me. Lord, have mercy.” And when your mind wanders—and it will wander—very gently without any self-recriminations, return to the words, “Lord, have mercy.”

When we pray this simple prayer, we are stepping out in faith. For instead of trying to control God with our many words, we are putting our trust in God. When we pray this simple prayer, over time, our faith will flourish because our God is faithful and our God is good and loving and out to do us good.

Lord, have mercy upon us. Amen.

The Scriptures

RCL, Year C, Proper 25, Thematic Track

Sirach 35:12–17

Give to the Most High as he has given to you,

         and as generously as you can afford.

For the Lord is the one who repays,

         and he will repay you sevenfold.

Do not offer him a bribe, for he will not accept it

         and do not rely on a dishonest sacrifice;

for the Lord is the judge,

         and with him there is no partiality.

He will not show partiality to the poor;

         but he will listen to the prayer of one who is wronged.

He will not ignore the supplication of the orphan,

         or the widow when she pours out her complaint.

Psalm 84:1–6 (BCP 707)

    1      How dear to me is your dwelling, O Lord of hosts! *
                     My soul has a desire and longing for the courts of the Lord;
                     my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.

    2      The sparrow has found her a house and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young; *
                     by the side of your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.

    3      Happy are they who dwell in your house! *
                     they will always be praising you.

    4      Happy are the people whose strength is in you! *
                     whose hearts are set on the pilgrims’ way.

    5      Those who go through the desolate valley will find it a place of springs, *
                     for the early rains have covered it with pools of water.

    6      They will climb from height to height, *
                     and the God of gods will reveal himself in Zion.

2 Timothy 4:6–8, 16–18

I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

     At my first defense no one came to my support, but all deserted me. May it not be counted against them! But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and save me for his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Luke 18:9-14

Jesus told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, `God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, `God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”