December 25, 2006
The Ven Richard I Cluett
Isaiah 52:7-10 + Hebrews 1:1-12 + John 1:1-14
In the name of God, Immanuel. Merry Christmas.
Immanuel. God with us. Thanks be to God, that is what we celebrate this day. At the darkest time of the year, at a time of darkness in the world and for our own country, at a period of darkness in the lives of too many people, we pause to remember, we pause to celebrate that God is with us. One of the names for God is Immanuel.
There was an eon – an age – when God was thought of in another way. God was believed to be kind of a Deus ex Machina. That is a dramatic term for a play’s plot twists and improbable endings. A god who acts, willy-nilly, in improbable ways. A capricious god. A god removed from his creation and the lives of his people. An absentee god. An uncaring god. A god at whose mercy is all of creation. An unfeeling god. A god who was not a caring father. A god who was not a loving mother.
God was believed to be complete, omni-sufficient, no needs of any kind, omni-everything. It was thought that if God has needs, if God has feelings, if God is not “the un-moved mover”, then God would be as vulnerable as any human being – and that is not good.
But if that is the nature of God, then why did God utter that Word, the Word, the word that creates… that creates everything? "In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, 'Let there be…' And the Word became flesh and lived among us." (Genesis 1:1-3)
Our God, the God of Abraham and Sarah, the God of David, the God of Mary and Joseph, our God is a God who creates so that there will be an other to love, who seeks to be in relationship. A God who yearns that God’s love will be answered with a love of another. The beloved.
Stephen Bayne, a wise bishop and saint of this church believed in this God. He wrote: God put freedom into his created universe in order that the universe could respond to his love with an answering love of its own...He put into the created universe a principle of choice; and He paid a two-fold price for that. First, He limited his own freedom to have things his own way. Second, he committed himself to having to win out of freedom what he could easily have commanded as a right (– the right to be loved). Why did he do this? He did it because God is love and because love needs an answering love of its own.
The Beloved Apostle, John, wrote in a dark time from his refuge on Patmos long, long ago, Beloved, let us love one another because love is from God… God is love and those who abide in love abide in God and God abides in them.
The extent to which God will go to seek the beloved is what we celebrate today. Becoming flesh of the Virgin Mary. Coming in the vulnerable guise of a baby, named Jesus, completely at the mercy of others. Willing to live and die at the mercy of the powers of the world. It is because of the birth and life and death and resurrection of Jesus born of Mary in Bethlehem that we know the true name of God, Immanuel, God with us.
The highest and best of our humanity is when we are with one another, when we love one another, when we care for one another, when we respect the inherent dignity and worth of one another. This is the true image in which we have been created.
We are most like God when we love. We, too, are created for relationship.
So this morning, what answer do we make to this God who loves so much? What is my answer to God’s love of me? Where is God calling me to love, to care, to work, to bless, and to pray? What is the Word of Love God speaks? In whom will that Word be enfleshed today, embodied today, incarnated today?
God seeks an answering love to the love that comes in the birth of Jesus we celebrate this Christmas Day. What will we answer?
In the name of Immanuel, amen and Merry Christmas.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Advent 4C: Fill the Hungry with Good Things
The Rev. Canon Anne E. Kitch
Micah 5:2-5 Canticle 15 (Luke 1:46-55) Hebrews 10:5-10 Luke 1:39-45
Fill the hungry with good things. My nephew Owen, who is six, recently asked his dad, “Daddy, how are you doing?”
“I’m good, buddy.”
“What do you mean? Happy healthy good, or humanality good?”
“What does humanality mean?”
“You know, like when you do nice things for people and do your best to help them.”
Fill the hungry with good things. When I became a mother there were many surprises. I swear, no one told me how awe-inspiring, sleep-depriving, life-overwhelming it was going to be. It seems there was so much more to it than I could ever have anticipated. For instance, I would never have predicted my fear of newspapers. Actually, my downright manic aversion to news. It seemed I could not pick up the paper that arrived on my doorstep each morning without being confronted by headlines or pictures of children in danger. Children in need. Children dismissed and abused by hunger, war, racism and poverty. It overwhelmed me. It was as if in becoming a mother I had a new umbilical chord that connected me to all mothers. As those children suffered I felt for those mothers, those parents, who suffered with them. Do any of those parents love their child any less than I love mine? As I felt overwhelmed and exhausted trying to care for my infant in my comfortable warm home supported by my incredibly loving husband and provided with excellent medical care, I wondered about all those other mothers who has less--much less. I cried for them. It was months before I could face the news.
But I emerged from that time with a certainty that I could not act for my child alone. I knew I needed to car for and act for but for other children as well. Fill the hungry with good things Mary, the mother of Jesus, responds to the announcement of her upcoming motherhood by seeking out others. Perhaps she was much less burdened by the cares of the world as a teenager than I was as an older adult. Perhaps the angel brought her wisdom along with the astounding announcement. She is not paralyzed by fear but able to reach out to others immediately. When the angel Gabriel disrupts Mary’s entire world with the news that she will bear God’s son, he also tells her of another wonderful pregnancy, that of her cousin Elizabeth.
Now Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah were childless and really too old to be having children. Nevertheless, an angel had visited them and promised them a son who would be John the Baptist. So, having received her great news, Mary leaves immediately and sets out to visit Elizabeth who is now six months pregnant. Mary, so young to be pregnant, and Elizabeth, too old, meet. When they do, Elizabeth feels the child bounce within her and knows in her heart before Mary tells her that Mary also caries new life within her and this life is for the life of the world. Elizabeth praises and blesses Mary. Mary responds with a glorious hymn we know as the Magnificat the one we just prayed together:
My soul proclaims the greatness the Lord,
My spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant…
These are the first words Mary utters to another about God’s revelation to her. It is a hymn of praise and it is a song that glorifies a God who cares about those in need. She sings of a God who is merciful and strong, one who lifts up the downtrodden, fills the hungry with good things.
Fill the hungry with good things. There is much waiting to be filled with good things this day: stockings carefully hung, plates beautifully set, hearts and homes open for friends and family. But what kind of good things are we waiting for? With what good things will we fill ourselves this day? The happy, healthy kind? Will we also fill them with humanality goodness? You know, the kind when you do nice things for people and do your best to help them.
Fill the hungry with good things. As we turn the corner from Advent to Christmas (and a very sharp corner it is this year), I offer a meditation from the Loma Tribesmen of Liberia which a friend here at the Cathedral shared with me:
Christmas Promise
Whoever on the night of the
Celebration of the Birth of Christ
Carries warm water and a sleeping mat
To a weary stranger,
Provides wood from his own fire
For a helpless neighbor,
Takes medicine to one
Sick with malaria,
Gives food to children
Who are thin and hungry,
Provides a torch for a traveler
In the dark forest,
Visits a timid friend
Who would like to know about Christ,
Whoever does these things
Will receive gifts of happiness
Greater than that of welcoming a son
Returning after a long absence,
And through he live to be so old
That he must be helped into his hammock,
And though his family and friends all die
So that he stands as a trunk stripped of branches,
Yet life will be sweet for him,
And he will have great peace,
As one whose rice harvest is great,
And who hears his neighbors
Praise the exploits of is youth.
So will you receive happiness
If you do these acts of love and service
On the night of the celebration of Christmas,
The Birth of Christ.
Amen.
Anne E. Kitch © 2006
Micah 5:2-5 Canticle 15 (Luke 1:46-55) Hebrews 10:5-10 Luke 1:39-45
Fill the hungry with good things. My nephew Owen, who is six, recently asked his dad, “Daddy, how are you doing?”
“I’m good, buddy.”
“What do you mean? Happy healthy good, or humanality good?”
“What does humanality mean?”
“You know, like when you do nice things for people and do your best to help them.”
Fill the hungry with good things. When I became a mother there were many surprises. I swear, no one told me how awe-inspiring, sleep-depriving, life-overwhelming it was going to be. It seems there was so much more to it than I could ever have anticipated. For instance, I would never have predicted my fear of newspapers. Actually, my downright manic aversion to news. It seemed I could not pick up the paper that arrived on my doorstep each morning without being confronted by headlines or pictures of children in danger. Children in need. Children dismissed and abused by hunger, war, racism and poverty. It overwhelmed me. It was as if in becoming a mother I had a new umbilical chord that connected me to all mothers. As those children suffered I felt for those mothers, those parents, who suffered with them. Do any of those parents love their child any less than I love mine? As I felt overwhelmed and exhausted trying to care for my infant in my comfortable warm home supported by my incredibly loving husband and provided with excellent medical care, I wondered about all those other mothers who has less--much less. I cried for them. It was months before I could face the news.
But I emerged from that time with a certainty that I could not act for my child alone. I knew I needed to car for and act for but for other children as well. Fill the hungry with good things Mary, the mother of Jesus, responds to the announcement of her upcoming motherhood by seeking out others. Perhaps she was much less burdened by the cares of the world as a teenager than I was as an older adult. Perhaps the angel brought her wisdom along with the astounding announcement. She is not paralyzed by fear but able to reach out to others immediately. When the angel Gabriel disrupts Mary’s entire world with the news that she will bear God’s son, he also tells her of another wonderful pregnancy, that of her cousin Elizabeth.
Now Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah were childless and really too old to be having children. Nevertheless, an angel had visited them and promised them a son who would be John the Baptist. So, having received her great news, Mary leaves immediately and sets out to visit Elizabeth who is now six months pregnant. Mary, so young to be pregnant, and Elizabeth, too old, meet. When they do, Elizabeth feels the child bounce within her and knows in her heart before Mary tells her that Mary also caries new life within her and this life is for the life of the world. Elizabeth praises and blesses Mary. Mary responds with a glorious hymn we know as the Magnificat the one we just prayed together:
My soul proclaims the greatness the Lord,
My spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant…
These are the first words Mary utters to another about God’s revelation to her. It is a hymn of praise and it is a song that glorifies a God who cares about those in need. She sings of a God who is merciful and strong, one who lifts up the downtrodden, fills the hungry with good things.
Fill the hungry with good things. There is much waiting to be filled with good things this day: stockings carefully hung, plates beautifully set, hearts and homes open for friends and family. But what kind of good things are we waiting for? With what good things will we fill ourselves this day? The happy, healthy kind? Will we also fill them with humanality goodness? You know, the kind when you do nice things for people and do your best to help them.
Fill the hungry with good things. As we turn the corner from Advent to Christmas (and a very sharp corner it is this year), I offer a meditation from the Loma Tribesmen of Liberia which a friend here at the Cathedral shared with me:
Christmas Promise
Whoever on the night of the
Celebration of the Birth of Christ
Carries warm water and a sleeping mat
To a weary stranger,
Provides wood from his own fire
For a helpless neighbor,
Takes medicine to one
Sick with malaria,
Gives food to children
Who are thin and hungry,
Provides a torch for a traveler
In the dark forest,
Visits a timid friend
Who would like to know about Christ,
Whoever does these things
Will receive gifts of happiness
Greater than that of welcoming a son
Returning after a long absence,
And through he live to be so old
That he must be helped into his hammock,
And though his family and friends all die
So that he stands as a trunk stripped of branches,
Yet life will be sweet for him,
And he will have great peace,
As one whose rice harvest is great,
And who hears his neighbors
Praise the exploits of is youth.
So will you receive happiness
If you do these acts of love and service
On the night of the celebration of Christmas,
The Birth of Christ.
Amen.
Anne E. Kitch © 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Advent 3: What then should we do?
December 17, 2006
The Ven. Richard I. Cluett
Zephaniah 3:14-20 + Philippians 4:4-7 + Luke 3:7-18
“You brood of vipers!
Boy, is John cranky?! Perhaps one too many days on locusts and wild honey, you think? Perhaps John had never heard that proverb, “You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”
Did those opening lines make them eager to hear what he had to say that day? I doubt it, but I think he got their attention, and he got ours as well.
But when you do that homiletically, prophetically, or even conversationally, you run the risk of so disorienting or alienating your hearers that they may miss the word that you, and – one hopes, humbly – God, have in store for them.
That could also be said for the gospel from Luke this morning. The gospel isn’t about some cranky oddball down by some riverside on the edge of some wilderness who could so easily claim our attention and distract us from what is truly important. It is not about John. It is not about indictment. It is about what God is about to do, and indeed has started doing.
It is about God’s intention for humankind and all creation, and it’s about what God is doing through Jesus Christ. It is about Good News. It is about the opportunity for Repentance, Renewal and Restoration.
Repentance, Renewal and Restoration. In other words, it is about how to get in on what God is doing, not what or who will keep you out of it.
For Luke, the One John is pointing to, the one who is coming into the world, the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with Fire, that’s Jesus, that’s the Good in the News. Jesus is the point, or as we say these days, Jesus is the reason for the season.
And lest you be concerned about that baptism of the Holy Spirit and Fire, it has already happened. It is not what is to come for you and me. It’s already happened. We call it Pentecost. And the baptism by which we baptize is a hearkening back not only to the baptism of John with water in the River Jordan, but also to the baptism he prophesied and which came to pass on Pentecost when all the believers were baptized in the Holy Spirit signified by tongues of fire.
You see? It’s all connected. It’s all part of the plan. And it is all Good News because it is about how much God wants us to know how beloved we are of God and to know that there is a way to live more and more deeply in that love, in that kingdom, under that reign – the reign of God in our hearts and in our lives and in our world. That’s what it’s all about. That’s the Good News that John has come to point to. The new opportunity for repentance renewal, and restoration – of you, me, them, the whole megillah.
John is clear. We need to be clear.
Would that we all could be as self-aware and self-defined as John; knowing precisely what our place in the scheme of thing is; knowing precisely who we are created and called to be; knowing precisely what we are to do and what we are not to do. I think that most of us most of the time don’t live there; don’t have that much certitude about ourselves or much else.
And so the crowds ask John, “What then should we do?” And the sinful tax collectors ask him, “Teacher, what should we do?” And the soldiers ask him, “And we, what should we do?”
Repentance is more than being sorry, it is a call to action, to do something. And we ask, “What are we to do?”
What are we to do as a sign that we have turned our lives in a God-ward direction? What are we to do to find a renewed spirit, to find a renewed meaning in our lives? What are we to do to help in our own restoration, the restoration of others, and the restoration of the world? “What are we to do?
And how does John answer? "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."
Know what you have. Be satisfied with what you have. Share what you have. The necessities of life are to be apportioned to all, to each and everyone, do your part in that distribution.
“Do not let your hands grow weak.” “Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his Name; Make his deeds known among the peoples; see that they remember that his Name is exalted.” “Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone… Do not worry about anything… in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”
Repentance, renewal, and restoration. The incarnational enterprise. The divine initiative.
And eventually in God’s time, each one, one-by-one, will be renewed and restored – one-by-one, until in God’s time the prophecies of Zephaniah and Isaiah and John the Baptizer shall come to pass for all people, for the whole of God’s creation.
All will be renewed in God’s love,
Disaster will be removed
There will be no reproach
No one will bear the weight of oppression
The lame will be saved,
The outcast will be gathered,
Shame will be turned into praise,
And we will all be brought safely home.
Thanks be to God.
The Ven. Richard I. Cluett
Zephaniah 3:14-20 + Philippians 4:4-7 + Luke 3:7-18
“You brood of vipers!
Boy, is John cranky?! Perhaps one too many days on locusts and wild honey, you think? Perhaps John had never heard that proverb, “You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”
Did those opening lines make them eager to hear what he had to say that day? I doubt it, but I think he got their attention, and he got ours as well.
But when you do that homiletically, prophetically, or even conversationally, you run the risk of so disorienting or alienating your hearers that they may miss the word that you, and – one hopes, humbly – God, have in store for them.
That could also be said for the gospel from Luke this morning. The gospel isn’t about some cranky oddball down by some riverside on the edge of some wilderness who could so easily claim our attention and distract us from what is truly important. It is not about John. It is not about indictment. It is about what God is about to do, and indeed has started doing.
It is about God’s intention for humankind and all creation, and it’s about what God is doing through Jesus Christ. It is about Good News. It is about the opportunity for Repentance, Renewal and Restoration.
Repentance, Renewal and Restoration. In other words, it is about how to get in on what God is doing, not what or who will keep you out of it.
For Luke, the One John is pointing to, the one who is coming into the world, the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with Fire, that’s Jesus, that’s the Good in the News. Jesus is the point, or as we say these days, Jesus is the reason for the season.
And lest you be concerned about that baptism of the Holy Spirit and Fire, it has already happened. It is not what is to come for you and me. It’s already happened. We call it Pentecost. And the baptism by which we baptize is a hearkening back not only to the baptism of John with water in the River Jordan, but also to the baptism he prophesied and which came to pass on Pentecost when all the believers were baptized in the Holy Spirit signified by tongues of fire.
You see? It’s all connected. It’s all part of the plan. And it is all Good News because it is about how much God wants us to know how beloved we are of God and to know that there is a way to live more and more deeply in that love, in that kingdom, under that reign – the reign of God in our hearts and in our lives and in our world. That’s what it’s all about. That’s the Good News that John has come to point to. The new opportunity for repentance renewal, and restoration – of you, me, them, the whole megillah.
John is clear. We need to be clear.
Would that we all could be as self-aware and self-defined as John; knowing precisely what our place in the scheme of thing is; knowing precisely who we are created and called to be; knowing precisely what we are to do and what we are not to do. I think that most of us most of the time don’t live there; don’t have that much certitude about ourselves or much else.
And so the crowds ask John, “What then should we do?” And the sinful tax collectors ask him, “Teacher, what should we do?” And the soldiers ask him, “And we, what should we do?”
Repentance is more than being sorry, it is a call to action, to do something. And we ask, “What are we to do?”
What are we to do as a sign that we have turned our lives in a God-ward direction? What are we to do to find a renewed spirit, to find a renewed meaning in our lives? What are we to do to help in our own restoration, the restoration of others, and the restoration of the world? “What are we to do?
And how does John answer? "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."
Know what you have. Be satisfied with what you have. Share what you have. The necessities of life are to be apportioned to all, to each and everyone, do your part in that distribution.
“Do not let your hands grow weak.” “Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his Name; Make his deeds known among the peoples; see that they remember that his Name is exalted.” “Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone… Do not worry about anything… in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”
Repentance, renewal, and restoration. The incarnational enterprise. The divine initiative.
And eventually in God’s time, each one, one-by-one, will be renewed and restored – one-by-one, until in God’s time the prophecies of Zephaniah and Isaiah and John the Baptizer shall come to pass for all people, for the whole of God’s creation.
All will be renewed in God’s love,
Disaster will be removed
There will be no reproach
No one will bear the weight of oppression
The lame will be saved,
The outcast will be gathered,
Shame will be turned into praise,
And we will all be brought safely home.
Thanks be to God.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Advent 2: Repentance, what is it?
December 10, 2006 at 10:30
The Ven. Howard Stringfellow III
Baruch 5:1-9 + Philippians 1:3-11 + Luke 3:1-16
In the Name of the True and Living God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
I am delighted to be with you once again. And on Friday I received the ultimate compliment: Rick asked for another date for me to visit you in the winter. If that isn’t the triumph of hope over experience, I don’t know what is. I am glad to be with you, to be part of your fellowship, whenever it is possible.
Two weeks ago, on the Feast of Christ the King, when Pilate questioned Jesus, I thought about the coming of Christ bringing with it light, perfect, flawless light; and how anyone unable or unwilling to face or to meet that light will instinctively put himself or herself in opposition to it. Opposition to that light, opposition to Christ, cries for repentance.
And last week, when the Gospel spoke of Christ’s return, in power and great glory, I thought about repentance now rather than later, now before Christ returns to be our Judge. I thought about it in terms like these: you and I can face divine judgment now, today: confessing to God our sins, repenting of those sins, and having those sins wiped away by divine forgiveness. If all our wrongs have been removed by daily repentance and forgiveness, there will be nothing left to judge on Judgment Day.
And today, John the Baptist strides across the stage “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” From Pilate’s encounter with Jesus, to the second coming, to John’s preaching, the Gospel cries for our repentance, repentance which is necessary to stand before him when he comes again.
Repentance, what is it? What is it to us? In St. Luke’s Gospel, the word for repentance is used more than in any other Gospel. For St. Luke, perhaps, the foremost characteristic of Christians is repentance, a word whose Greek root means after-thought, or change, or change in one’s mind or thinking.
What is it about our thinking that needs changing? Simply stated, I think it is our idea that we can do it by ourselves. We are justified before God by our good lives and our good works. We, after all, are ruggedly independent and self-reliant Americans. Our lack of needing help lies deep in our national consciousness. We think we know what we and the world need to do. We are pretty good people because we obey the commandments. We aren’t as bad as those sinners who stand somewhere beyond the tip of my pointing finger. And, if we should find we are coming up short in some of areas, we might reflect on our misdeeds only to discover ways that we can stop doing the bad things and start doing good things. We ourselves can change ourselves through self-help, self-actualization, and self-direction.
The problem with this type of repentance is that it doesn’t seek outside help. The Savior has no part in it. The mind still thinks, “I can do it by myself.” The mind hasn’t been changed; it hasn’t repented. It has not turned.
I think the reason Jesus had so much trouble with the scribes and the Pharisees was that they were doing pretty well by themselves, or so they thought. They were living, as we are, good, moral, obedient lives before God and neighbor. By contrast, the sinners and tax collectors were quite aware that they didn’t measure up to God’s or even society’s demands. They knew they couldn’t do it by themselves. They needed help. Repentance certainly involves declaring to yourself and to God, “I can’t do it alone.”
Maybe I’m wrong, but along with the scribes and Pharisees’ self-righteousness went the idea that a little, I mean a very little, generosity goes a long way. I don’t think they were big givers. From their questions to Jesus, I’d guess they were minimal givers, the least the law requires. A change of heart, a change of mind, might be just what they need. This is the season, the time, for it.
Your generosity, your adherence to the Consecration Sunday program, and the substantial benefits are becoming legendary through the Diocese. I know this is so, because I have begun to mention both of them every time I visit a parish. You know first hand what it is to make a significant turning, and you are leading the way. But each of us, deep inside, needs to make a turn or two. In fact, I’d say, the road to Bethlehem and the road to Christmas Eve has at least a couple of turns we each need to make in order to celebrate with fullness the Nativity of the Lord, to greet our new-born Savior with humility and with a purity of heart guilelessly to adore him.
Before we let the whirl of the season spin us around and around and around, let us turn to greet him, let us turn our heads to face him, who came once and will come again just to claim us.
As the prophet Baruch wrote, put off sorrow and affliction, and put on the robe of God’s righteousness. We have been called to a new way of living. We have been called to be born again, and again, in ever closer approximation to the Lord. Put off sorrow. Put on the robe of righteousness and obedience. With Baruch, Isaiah, and John encouraging us, why not follow their lead in the way prepared, in the way that leads to life everlasting?
In Christ’s Name. Amen.
The Ven. Howard Stringfellow III
Baruch 5:1-9 + Philippians 1:3-11 + Luke 3:1-16
In the Name of the True and Living God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
I am delighted to be with you once again. And on Friday I received the ultimate compliment: Rick asked for another date for me to visit you in the winter. If that isn’t the triumph of hope over experience, I don’t know what is. I am glad to be with you, to be part of your fellowship, whenever it is possible.
Two weeks ago, on the Feast of Christ the King, when Pilate questioned Jesus, I thought about the coming of Christ bringing with it light, perfect, flawless light; and how anyone unable or unwilling to face or to meet that light will instinctively put himself or herself in opposition to it. Opposition to that light, opposition to Christ, cries for repentance.
And last week, when the Gospel spoke of Christ’s return, in power and great glory, I thought about repentance now rather than later, now before Christ returns to be our Judge. I thought about it in terms like these: you and I can face divine judgment now, today: confessing to God our sins, repenting of those sins, and having those sins wiped away by divine forgiveness. If all our wrongs have been removed by daily repentance and forgiveness, there will be nothing left to judge on Judgment Day.
And today, John the Baptist strides across the stage “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” From Pilate’s encounter with Jesus, to the second coming, to John’s preaching, the Gospel cries for our repentance, repentance which is necessary to stand before him when he comes again.
Repentance, what is it? What is it to us? In St. Luke’s Gospel, the word for repentance is used more than in any other Gospel. For St. Luke, perhaps, the foremost characteristic of Christians is repentance, a word whose Greek root means after-thought, or change, or change in one’s mind or thinking.
What is it about our thinking that needs changing? Simply stated, I think it is our idea that we can do it by ourselves. We are justified before God by our good lives and our good works. We, after all, are ruggedly independent and self-reliant Americans. Our lack of needing help lies deep in our national consciousness. We think we know what we and the world need to do. We are pretty good people because we obey the commandments. We aren’t as bad as those sinners who stand somewhere beyond the tip of my pointing finger. And, if we should find we are coming up short in some of areas, we might reflect on our misdeeds only to discover ways that we can stop doing the bad things and start doing good things. We ourselves can change ourselves through self-help, self-actualization, and self-direction.
The problem with this type of repentance is that it doesn’t seek outside help. The Savior has no part in it. The mind still thinks, “I can do it by myself.” The mind hasn’t been changed; it hasn’t repented. It has not turned.
I think the reason Jesus had so much trouble with the scribes and the Pharisees was that they were doing pretty well by themselves, or so they thought. They were living, as we are, good, moral, obedient lives before God and neighbor. By contrast, the sinners and tax collectors were quite aware that they didn’t measure up to God’s or even society’s demands. They knew they couldn’t do it by themselves. They needed help. Repentance certainly involves declaring to yourself and to God, “I can’t do it alone.”
Maybe I’m wrong, but along with the scribes and Pharisees’ self-righteousness went the idea that a little, I mean a very little, generosity goes a long way. I don’t think they were big givers. From their questions to Jesus, I’d guess they were minimal givers, the least the law requires. A change of heart, a change of mind, might be just what they need. This is the season, the time, for it.
Your generosity, your adherence to the Consecration Sunday program, and the substantial benefits are becoming legendary through the Diocese. I know this is so, because I have begun to mention both of them every time I visit a parish. You know first hand what it is to make a significant turning, and you are leading the way. But each of us, deep inside, needs to make a turn or two. In fact, I’d say, the road to Bethlehem and the road to Christmas Eve has at least a couple of turns we each need to make in order to celebrate with fullness the Nativity of the Lord, to greet our new-born Savior with humility and with a purity of heart guilelessly to adore him.
Before we let the whirl of the season spin us around and around and around, let us turn to greet him, let us turn our heads to face him, who came once and will come again just to claim us.
As the prophet Baruch wrote, put off sorrow and affliction, and put on the robe of God’s righteousness. We have been called to a new way of living. We have been called to be born again, and again, in ever closer approximation to the Lord. Put off sorrow. Put on the robe of righteousness and obedience. With Baruch, Isaiah, and John encouraging us, why not follow their lead in the way prepared, in the way that leads to life everlasting?
In Christ’s Name. Amen.
Advent 2: Picture This
December 10, 2006 at 8 o'clock
The Ven. Howard Stringfellow III
Baruch 5:1-9 + Philippians 1:3-11 + Luke 3:1-16
In the Name of the True and Living God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Once again, I am delighted to be with you. You should know that as I visit parishes around the Diocese, I have started mentioning the Cathedral very often. Your adherence to the Consecration Sunday program and your faith have yielded a harvest of many good results. So many increases in tangible signs of your commitment and stewardship, are blessings that other parishes cannot pretend do not result from the right approach. You are an example to us all.
Picture this. Someone wearing very strange clothes approaches you on a street corner, perhaps on West Fourth Street, and yells at you that your life is a mess and that your only hope is to put it in order. Picture that happening.
In a way, it just has happened. Through the Gospel, John the Baptist, with his strange clothes of camel’s hair, has yelled at you and me today. He’s told us that our sins weigh us down and that repentance is necessary for us to prepare the way of the Lord. Repentance is necessary for you and for me to celebrate Christmas with the fullness the Nativity of the Lord calls from each of us.
You can see why John wasn’t all that popular. You can see why he was living on the fringe. The message is so radical, so demanding, that the fringe was probably the only place he could plant his feet. But was he speaking for God? Was he telling us what we need to hear, as opposed to what we just do not want to hear? I believe he is. He is reminding us that our relationship with God depends largely on us. We have to make the move. God already has made the move to us in sending the prophets and John himself, and, most especially in sending Jesus to us. We may need what John has to say. We may need what we today jokingly call a “wake-up call.” This is a season for us to be awakened, perhaps even shaken, out of our complacency and out of our usual, everyday conversation with God. We need to put aside some of our behavior and some of our thoughts to serve God more nearly.
You and you alone best know what you need to do. No one knows better than you what you need to do. I heard it said the other day that everyone knows what he or she needs to do to be more faithful to God’s will and call for us. What we don’t know, often, is how to do it. I can suggest that you begin with a small thing. If the thing is noticeable, like drinking less or praying more or giving away more of your money, your friends and your family will notice, and they will resist. You have to be prepared for that. You have to put the will and call of God in the mix of your choices and make the choice which leads to your greater freedom and your greater spiritual health.
Listen to John, and take his words to heart. They speak to your deepest need and your deepest desire. He prophesies for God who knows you better than anyone else. As radical as he is, he is part of God’s redeeming love for you and your salvation. Listen to him.
In Christ’s Name. Amen.
The Ven. Howard Stringfellow III
Baruch 5:1-9 + Philippians 1:3-11 + Luke 3:1-16
In the Name of the True and Living God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Once again, I am delighted to be with you. You should know that as I visit parishes around the Diocese, I have started mentioning the Cathedral very often. Your adherence to the Consecration Sunday program and your faith have yielded a harvest of many good results. So many increases in tangible signs of your commitment and stewardship, are blessings that other parishes cannot pretend do not result from the right approach. You are an example to us all.
Picture this. Someone wearing very strange clothes approaches you on a street corner, perhaps on West Fourth Street, and yells at you that your life is a mess and that your only hope is to put it in order. Picture that happening.
In a way, it just has happened. Through the Gospel, John the Baptist, with his strange clothes of camel’s hair, has yelled at you and me today. He’s told us that our sins weigh us down and that repentance is necessary for us to prepare the way of the Lord. Repentance is necessary for you and for me to celebrate Christmas with the fullness the Nativity of the Lord calls from each of us.
You can see why John wasn’t all that popular. You can see why he was living on the fringe. The message is so radical, so demanding, that the fringe was probably the only place he could plant his feet. But was he speaking for God? Was he telling us what we need to hear, as opposed to what we just do not want to hear? I believe he is. He is reminding us that our relationship with God depends largely on us. We have to make the move. God already has made the move to us in sending the prophets and John himself, and, most especially in sending Jesus to us. We may need what John has to say. We may need what we today jokingly call a “wake-up call.” This is a season for us to be awakened, perhaps even shaken, out of our complacency and out of our usual, everyday conversation with God. We need to put aside some of our behavior and some of our thoughts to serve God more nearly.
You and you alone best know what you need to do. No one knows better than you what you need to do. I heard it said the other day that everyone knows what he or she needs to do to be more faithful to God’s will and call for us. What we don’t know, often, is how to do it. I can suggest that you begin with a small thing. If the thing is noticeable, like drinking less or praying more or giving away more of your money, your friends and your family will notice, and they will resist. You have to be prepared for that. You have to put the will and call of God in the mix of your choices and make the choice which leads to your greater freedom and your greater spiritual health.
Listen to John, and take his words to heart. They speak to your deepest need and your deepest desire. He prophesies for God who knows you better than anyone else. As radical as he is, he is part of God’s redeeming love for you and your salvation. Listen to him.
In Christ’s Name. Amen.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Advent 1: The Power of One
December 3, 2006
The Ven Richard I Cluett
Jeremiah 33:14-16 + 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13 + Luke 21:25-36
I was struck last Sunday by the phrase, “The Power of One”. Canon Kitch ended her wonderful reflection last week by reminding us about the difference ONE can make; be it one person, one family, one household, one clan, one tribe, one nation, one congregation, one denomination, one faith tradition, one God. The difference ONE can make, the Power of One.
We continue this week with that very important point, that very important theme, that very important truth. There is Power in One. There is power in each and every one. Power to be used in the work of creation, power to be used in the reweaving of the fabric of the world, power to be used in seeing to the well-being of the anawim, the poor of the land – this land, and the land across the seas. The Power of One. The power in one.
One person pushed back the veil that seems to separate the holy and mundane. One person repaired the breach that had existed between the Creator and the creation. One person began the process of redemption that continues through this very day and will never end until redemption is complete. One person began the work of reconciliation of one to another. One person inaugurated the reign of God. One person makes it possible to live in this world, to live through this life, with purpose, with integrity, with compassion, with love. One person, the Power of One.
Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus the Christ, Jesus the Son of God, Jesus the Savior of the world, Jesus the Savior of each one of us, Jesus who was and is and is to come. Jesus who is One and equal in the Trinity we call God. Jesus, the Power of One.
We most often think of Jesus, I think, as the One who was and the One who is to come. Neglecting a very important truth, a very important Jesus, the One who is.
Theologian N. T. Wright suggests that the "reappearing" of Jesus might be a better phrase than “the second coming” -- and one that was used by some early Christians. Wright says "(Jesus) is, at the moment, present with us, but hidden behind that invisible veil which keeps heaven and earth apart, and which we pierce in those moments, such as prayer, the sacraments, the reading of scriptures, and our work with the poor, when the veil seems particularly thin.
But one day the veil will be lifted; earth and heaven will be one: Jesus will be personally present, and every knee shall bow at his name; creation will be renewed; the dead will be raised; and God's new world will at last be (fully) in place, full of new prospects and possibilities." (Simply Christian: Why Christianity Makes Sense p. 219)
Celtic spirituality speaks of the “thin places”, holy places like Iona and Lindesfarne and Clonmacnoise and Glendolaugh where our J2A pilgrims went last summer. Places where when you step onto the ground you know you should take off your shoes. Places where the veil between this world, our life, and its Creator and Redeemer and Sustainer is very thin indeed.
What does it take? Do we need to rehearse again the litany of work waiting to be done, waiting to be begun, waiting for some-One to begin? Do we need to reread, rename the accounts of the evil in the world that leads to suffering, conflict, violence, and death, such things as the holocausts of our time, the AIDS epidemic in Africa and now in India and China, nine-eleven and the constant threat of attack we know in this country as well as it is known around the world, or the untimely death of a friend or loved one by accident or disease.
The monthly news magazine from Trinity Church, Wall Street has on its cover the word, eschatology noun.
1. The theological study of end times.
2. A difficult word to pronounce.
3. Hope that really matters.
If the Eschaton looks to, promises an end to all, evil, what would living in such a world be like? How do we capture glimpses of that world today? What does Kingdom life look like? How do we relate to one another -- not just fellow cathedral members, but yes, fellow members of this cathedral household, how do we relate to one another? How do we relate to the children of God around the world?
I have read that it is highly unlikely that any individual or congregation will change the world. I don’t buy that. I don’t believe that. It is a crock and it is a copout.
There was a time during my tenure as the Archdeacon of Bethlehem when there was no mission outside of this diocese, No care expressed for the evangelization of the world or the living conditions of people in the slums of the world. There was nothing.
Then one day my telephone rang and on the other end was a woman by the name of Connie Fegley, who said, “Rick, do you know what’s going on in Sudan? We have to do something!” And My God, what has been done since surpasses one’s imagination.
One can make a difference in the lives of one or two or, perhaps, a dozen people, or perhaps a village, or perhaps a congregation of people, or perhaps a family of people, or perhaps a diocese of people. We can relieve some suffering. We can offer glimpses of the coming Kingdom.
Some examples right here and right now? The Thanksgiving baskets provided families by families of the cathedral and delivered by our teenagers; the Christmas presents being sought, assembled, and delivered by our teenagers; the ministry of one Joel Atkinson who simply be his presence on the street declares the presence and the compassion of the one named Jesus.
What we are to be about in this time, in our time, before the end-time, is making every place we touch a “thin place”, demonstrating to every person we encounter that the Reign of God is begun. We have been given the power to do that. Empowered by the One who was and is and is to come to exercise the Power of One. To bring Hope that really matters.
It is time to be about that business.
The Ven Richard I Cluett
Jeremiah 33:14-16 + 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13 + Luke 21:25-36
I was struck last Sunday by the phrase, “The Power of One”. Canon Kitch ended her wonderful reflection last week by reminding us about the difference ONE can make; be it one person, one family, one household, one clan, one tribe, one nation, one congregation, one denomination, one faith tradition, one God. The difference ONE can make, the Power of One.
We continue this week with that very important point, that very important theme, that very important truth. There is Power in One. There is power in each and every one. Power to be used in the work of creation, power to be used in the reweaving of the fabric of the world, power to be used in seeing to the well-being of the anawim, the poor of the land – this land, and the land across the seas. The Power of One. The power in one.
One person pushed back the veil that seems to separate the holy and mundane. One person repaired the breach that had existed between the Creator and the creation. One person began the process of redemption that continues through this very day and will never end until redemption is complete. One person began the work of reconciliation of one to another. One person inaugurated the reign of God. One person makes it possible to live in this world, to live through this life, with purpose, with integrity, with compassion, with love. One person, the Power of One.
Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus the Christ, Jesus the Son of God, Jesus the Savior of the world, Jesus the Savior of each one of us, Jesus who was and is and is to come. Jesus who is One and equal in the Trinity we call God. Jesus, the Power of One.
We most often think of Jesus, I think, as the One who was and the One who is to come. Neglecting a very important truth, a very important Jesus, the One who is.
Theologian N. T. Wright suggests that the "reappearing" of Jesus might be a better phrase than “the second coming” -- and one that was used by some early Christians. Wright says "(Jesus) is, at the moment, present with us, but hidden behind that invisible veil which keeps heaven and earth apart, and which we pierce in those moments, such as prayer, the sacraments, the reading of scriptures, and our work with the poor, when the veil seems particularly thin.
But one day the veil will be lifted; earth and heaven will be one: Jesus will be personally present, and every knee shall bow at his name; creation will be renewed; the dead will be raised; and God's new world will at last be (fully) in place, full of new prospects and possibilities." (Simply Christian: Why Christianity Makes Sense p. 219)
Celtic spirituality speaks of the “thin places”, holy places like Iona and Lindesfarne and Clonmacnoise and Glendolaugh where our J2A pilgrims went last summer. Places where when you step onto the ground you know you should take off your shoes. Places where the veil between this world, our life, and its Creator and Redeemer and Sustainer is very thin indeed.
What does it take? Do we need to rehearse again the litany of work waiting to be done, waiting to be begun, waiting for some-One to begin? Do we need to reread, rename the accounts of the evil in the world that leads to suffering, conflict, violence, and death, such things as the holocausts of our time, the AIDS epidemic in Africa and now in India and China, nine-eleven and the constant threat of attack we know in this country as well as it is known around the world, or the untimely death of a friend or loved one by accident or disease.
The monthly news magazine from Trinity Church, Wall Street has on its cover the word, eschatology noun.
1. The theological study of end times.
2. A difficult word to pronounce.
3. Hope that really matters.
If the Eschaton looks to, promises an end to all, evil, what would living in such a world be like? How do we capture glimpses of that world today? What does Kingdom life look like? How do we relate to one another -- not just fellow cathedral members, but yes, fellow members of this cathedral household, how do we relate to one another? How do we relate to the children of God around the world?
I have read that it is highly unlikely that any individual or congregation will change the world. I don’t buy that. I don’t believe that. It is a crock and it is a copout.
There was a time during my tenure as the Archdeacon of Bethlehem when there was no mission outside of this diocese, No care expressed for the evangelization of the world or the living conditions of people in the slums of the world. There was nothing.
Then one day my telephone rang and on the other end was a woman by the name of Connie Fegley, who said, “Rick, do you know what’s going on in Sudan? We have to do something!” And My God, what has been done since surpasses one’s imagination.
One can make a difference in the lives of one or two or, perhaps, a dozen people, or perhaps a village, or perhaps a congregation of people, or perhaps a family of people, or perhaps a diocese of people. We can relieve some suffering. We can offer glimpses of the coming Kingdom.
Some examples right here and right now? The Thanksgiving baskets provided families by families of the cathedral and delivered by our teenagers; the Christmas presents being sought, assembled, and delivered by our teenagers; the ministry of one Joel Atkinson who simply be his presence on the street declares the presence and the compassion of the one named Jesus.
What we are to be about in this time, in our time, before the end-time, is making every place we touch a “thin place”, demonstrating to every person we encounter that the Reign of God is begun. We have been given the power to do that. Empowered by the One who was and is and is to come to exercise the Power of One. To bring Hope that really matters.
It is time to be about that business.
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