Sermons
THE HOLY TRINTY
June 3, 2007
REFLECTIONS ON THE DANCE OF THE TRINITY
In a few minutes, we will be singing a newer hymn from the Renewing Worship resource entitled, “Come, Join the Dance of the Trinity”. Those of you who are familiar with classical music will recognize the tune as written by Ralph Vaughan Williams in his famous piece, “Five Variants on Dives and Lazarus”. The original tune dates to at least 1557. Williams first heard it in 1903 and it haunted his imagination for 46 years until he finally composed the piece. The tune, by itself, is a powerful witness.
But on this Sunday of the Holy Trinity we allow the tune to underscore the intriguing thoughts of this profoundly Trinitarian hymn. And what are the messages the words and music bring? Allow me to offer three reflections. It’s Trinity after all.
God is community. God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit exist in communion with each other. This is why we confess, one God in three persons. This insight has always been a moving one for me. Being the archetypical extrovert, I languish when others do not surround me. This is my one true joy in going to the Synod Assembly. After all these years, I do not need another meeting. But I am always rejuvenated at seeing old friends and meeting new ones. And apparently, God is like that as well. The persons of the Trinity rejoice in fellowship with one another. And by the way, with their creation which is all of us. This is one reason why we gather together. God loves a crowd. More than almost anything else, God loves for us to be together to sing praises to His Holy Name. He delights in working His Holy room, the church.
This community is dynamic. This is the only Sunday in the entire church year that is named after a doctrine. We often think of doctrines as being rather dry pieces of esoteric information important to only a few eccentric ecclesiastics. But doctrines point to a deeper reality. They are like a painting that is not the reality, but points to the reality that the artist attempted to capture on canvas, even though he or she can never fully achieve it. And reality does not get any deeper than the Trinity. Can we ever fully understand the Trinity? Not in our mortal lives, but we get glimpses of a greater glory. Besides being blessed with a wonderful tune, this hymn points to another marvelous insight about the Trinity. God is dynamic. While ever the same, paradoxically enough, God is ever changing. That is why the image of a dance is so fascinating. The Trinity is like a dance with all its nuances. A dance is many things, but it is not static. And every time you participate in a given dance as familiar as it might be for you, it still is different. That is one of the beauties of the dance. And so the Trinity is dynamic.
Finally, this community overcomes all the forces of evil, hopelessness and even death. The hymn proclaims, “We know the yoke of sin and death, our necks have worn it smooth; go tell the world of weight and woe that we are free to move.” What a marvelous image. One of the great themes we encounter in scripture is the counter cultural nature of our faith. Once again we see how faith stands against the world in a wondrous way. “Go tell the world of weight and woe.” Ultimately, the world has nothing of permanence to offer us. We work and we worry and in the end where does it really get us? At most a larger headstone or a more visible place in a mausoleum. But the Trinity frees us from the constraints of the world, for we know that we not only were created as God’s beloved children through the love of the Father, we not only are guided by the love of the Spirit, but in the end we shall be set free to rejoice in God throughout all eternity by the victory on the cross of God the Son. “We are free to move.”
So perhaps this image of the perfectly fulfilled Kingdom of God in heaven as a dance is more accurate than the old stereotypes of sitting on some boring cloud strumming a harp. I for one always feel somewhat closer to God while I am on the move. While no Fred Astare, I love to dance because it seems as full an expression of joy as most other experiences here on earth. And if this image of the Trinity can lead us to a deeper understanding of the joy and love God means us to possess, we may find worse ways to celebrate this intriguing Sunday. Amen.
Pentecost; Acts 2:1-21; Romans 8:14-17; John 14:8-17, 25-27; May 26-27, 2007
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ, and the Holy Spirit our Sustainer.
Τον μεν προτον λογον εποινσαμην περι παντον, ω θοπηιλε . . . Perhaps talking in ancient Greek isn’t much use for us. Maybe this is better: “Beth Ann!” “WU?” “Your cell phone bill, that’s what’s up. All this texting!” “OMG, INBD.” It is a big deal. Who are you texting 50 times a day?” “IDK, my BFF Jill?” “Tell your BFF Jill that I’m taking away your phone.” “TISNF!” “My paying this bill, that is what’s . . . S DNF!” For the tag line to this commercial, the announcer states, “Now texting is NBD.” Who understands this language? I admit to you that without the subtitles, I didn’t know what the mother and daughter were talking about.
And so it is. Language is a wonderful gift we share. It is the magical way we are able to connect with others, express our wants, needs and deepest desires as well as simply pass the time in relationship-building. But it is fairly useless if we don’t understand it. I grew up in a world where everything was English. Once I could read, it was hard to keep a secret from me. Now, I live in a world of bilingual, trilingual signs and directions, languages my children know and I don’t so I can’t figure out what’s going on. Texting language and instant messaging language, which may very well be the same, for all I know. Did you know that IM is being recognized as a second language so some schools are teaching when to use IM and when to use English? It all points out the wondrous diversity God has created among us.
That diversity can be a two-edged sword, however. For God has charged his people with the responsibility of spreading the Good News of Jesus the Christ. Now how can we do that if we speak in so many different languages? That’s one of the dilemmas facing the disciples when they were holed up in a room together, wondering “what next” after they witnessed their Lord bodily taken up into heaven.
God took care of that little tizzy in a minute: “And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.” It was the Holy Spirit, equipping them with the tools to go out and proclaim the message. The message is one of love and hope; God’s promise of eternal life—not death followed by eternal oblivion, nothingness.
The message has not changed. The message delivered to us at baptism, the message reiterated at our Affirmation of Baptism—today, for 13 of our young people—assures us that we are indeed children of God. Not mere slaves, servants. We are, in fact, God’s own family, the ones God loves, keeps, protects. The ones for whom God puts his own life on the line to save us. Today, we hear for ourselves the promises God made to us at baptism: to love, honor, cherish, protect, save for all time. Today, you are reminded that you are a son, a daughter of God.
This is an outrageous claim. St. Paul first delivered this message when the only sons and daughters of god were the children of the Roman Emperor. And here is this upstart, scrappy little Jewish sect—called “The Way,” and what we today call “Christians,”—claiming to be “Children of God,” equals at least with the Emperors family. But the Roman Emperor is nothing compared to the one, true God, the Trinity, whom we worship. Being children of this God, our God, is a very precious gift.
Claimed by God as his own children, we, then, are not left to our own devices, left to figure out living the Christian life on our own, left to twist in the wind. As Jesus promised, the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, comes to each of us—old and young alike. The Spirit comes and hovers—every day from our baptisms on to our last breath. The Spirit hovers to guide us, comfort us, sustain and equip us, never abandon us. We are children of God.
How do you claim your heritage? How do you live within this family? As one who rejects this family, turning your back on us, on our Father, forgetting us and leaving empty your place at the table? Or as a caring, loved, loving, integral part of this family? God has graciously given us choices. Today, you, our confirmation class of 2007, you will make your promises to remain in and with the family. The rest of us will witness to and reaffirm the promises we made at our own confirmation.
We are children of God. What do our actions say about who we are? Amen.
June 14, 2007
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST
June 10, 2007
RAISING THE DEAD
1 Kings 17:17-24
Luke 7:11-17
14Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” What a dramatic Gospel. Jesus issues a word of command and the dead man is brought back to life. It is no wonder that 16Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God. Yet not to diminish the authority of our Lord, for He has total authority, we must realize that today this is no longer an unusual occurrence. In virtually every major medical center, the dead are brought back to life on a daily basis. 3,000 and 2,000 years ago this would have been considered a miracle. Today we call in CPR. Is this still a miracle? I suspect the people who are alive today will claim it to be. In short, miracles still happen. Some of these will eventually be explained. Some will not. Twice in my own ministry, I have been called to pray over the bodies of those who had been officially pronounced dead, only to have them open their eyes and begin to breathe again. In each case they only lived another hour, but I can assure you these are experiences you do not easily forget. Do I consider myself a miracle worker? Not at all. But I do realize that God does some special acts through me. And guess what, He acts through you as well, if you will only recognize these actions for what they are. Having said this let me offer a few other insights grounded on our Gospel for today and the incident in Nain that was its spiritual progenitor.
Though the miracle is dramatic, it is grounded in hard reality. This is yet another instance of Jesus as the wise and compassionate steward, the economist, if you will. William Loader writes, “Widows were notoriously poor and vulnerable and this one has lost one last avenue of support, her son. One can imagine grief for her son but also for herself. Luke probably wants us to see the story as typical and representative. Jesus responds with compassion.” This lesson must not be lost on us. We must not only be concerned with people’s spiritual health, as vital as this is, but also their physical health. Look at the ministry of our food pantry. As people come and find food for their tables and to put into their children’s mouths month after month, I suspect that they must believe that miracles take place here at Reformation almost as much as that poor widow, who not only had her son restored to her, but was spared a dismal fate of slowly succumbing to malnutrition and neglect. Like Jesus then, we must look at hard reality of those who surround us and have the faith to act in God’s name.
In this miracle, Jesus takes risks. Here we need to understand something of the Jewish law and tradition. Luke records, 14Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. What you should realize is that no religious Jew, certainly not a noted rabbi, was to touch a funeral bier. This renders that person ritually unclean. Jesus’ action would certainly have caused great office to those around Him. So why did He do this? I think it was to show His willingness to risk being unpopular to demonstrate active compassion. I must confess I identify with our Lord on this issue. On occasion some folks think I am a bit too liaise faire in bending the rules to show compassion. But I think part of following in the footsteps of our Lord is accepting risk, especially when it comes to love.
A final thought and I am again indebted to William Loader. Aren’t all new beginning miracles in and of themselves? If you have ever gone through a profound physical, moral or psychological crisis and have emerged in a much better place, you know what I mean. In preparation for a Saturday Night Study, I have been reading Saints Behaving Badly. My favorite character so far is St. Callixtus. Callixtus was a slave who had a gift for handling money (I wonder why I was drawn to him?) In about 190 his master set up a bank for Christians and put Callixtus in charge. It was not a good decision. The steward soon had embezzled all the funds. He was arrested and set away but incredibly enough the now bankrupt depositors asked that he might be returned in order to get back some of their money. A mistake. He tried to shake down some folks for fresh funds that resulted in a second arrest and deportation to work in the salt mines, a certain albeit slow death. Incredibly enough through the indirect efforts of the wife of the emperor, he was released a second time. And even more unbelievably, he became such a paragon of Christian virtue that he was ordained and eventually elected Pope where he was known for his great mercy. He had walked the walk you see. I think Pope Callixtus could have given a powerful sermon on the raising of the dead from his own experience.
“Young man, I say to you, rise!” Perhaps we hear this command being issued and fulfilled more often than we first might think. Amen.
June 28, 2007
Nativity of John the Baptizer; Luke 1:57-80; June 24, 2007
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ, and the Holy Spirit our Sustainer.
The other day, I was chatting with a friend about our plans for the weekend. The conversation went something like this:
“What are you doing this weekend?” “Oh, I don’t know. Grocery shopping, I guess, some personal maintenance, maybe. What are you doing?” “I’ve got a sermon to write.”
My friend suggested several topics that were preaching worthy; but I had to decline all of them. Although a Christian, my friend is not very familiar with the faith and certainly not familiar with lectionary preaching—where the scriptures are assigned on a three-year cycle. “So what’s the assignment this week?” was the next question. “John the Baptizer,” said I. “Isn’t he the guy who lost his head?” “Yep.” “We’re supposed to lose our heads?” Thinking for a moment, I replied, “Sort of, figuratively speaking, lose our heads for Jesus. I never thought of it that way. But that’s not what the sermon will be about.” “What else is there?” my friend queried.
“A lot,” I thought. There’s the neat story about John’s parents. The angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah to announce his Elizabeth would have a son. Zechariah didn’t believe Gabriel since they were so old and they had been so long without children. Because of his disbelief, Gabriel told him he would be rendered mute until everything foretold happened. And Zechariah was silenced.
There’s the cool story of how John was named. Eight days after he was born, according to Jewish law, it was time to name the baby. Since Zechariah couldn’t talk, everyone asked Elizabeth what the baby’s name would be. She told them “John.” They knew that couldn’t be right. It was customary to name a baby after a member of his family. In this way, they could achieve immortality. So they were surprised this child was not going to be named Zechariah. They turned to his father who wrote down, “His name is John.” Not Zechariah. As commanded, they named him “John.” Short for “Johanan,” meaning “God shows favor” in Hebrew. When he named his son, Zechariah immediately was able to speak again.
Deciding to stick to the topic at hand, I skipped those stories. So, in answer to my friend’s question, “What else is there?” I said, “John’s birth.” “John has a birthday? How do you know when it is?” “John’s mother and Jesus’ mother were relatives, and John was born six months before Jesus, according to scripture. So, if we celebrate Jesus’ birthday on Christmas, when is six months before that?” “Oh, I get it,” was my friend’s wondrous response.
“So John was really real?” “Of course. We celebrate his birthday like we celebrate Jesus because they both lived on this earth in our human history. John and Jesus and God aren’t just nice characters from some fairy tale. John and Jesus and God are real and really lived—and live—in real time we can find in Roman history. They lived in a real place we can point to on a map.
“John’s story is an example for us.” “So, we do have to lose our heads.” “Not quite. John’s example is he was a real human, just like us. He worked faithfully to tell everyone about Christ and help prepare for the coming of God’s Kingdom on earth. We can do that, too. That’s why we celebrate John’s birth now. He was real, and he set an example for what we can do.”
My friend thought about it a moment, then looked up. With a twinkle came the final question, “Will there be cake?” Amen.