Saturday, October 30, 2010

Living the Trinity

Catechism Sermon Two: Holy Community
Preached at St. John's on All Hallows Eve, 2010

Imagine a time from your past when you felt completely alone. It may have been a genuine time of separation from human companionship, or it may have been a time when you were surrounded by people, but in your heart, you believed that no one cared, no one noticed, and no one knew your name. For a few moments early in the experience, you may have enjoyed the solitude and the quiet, but before long, a devastating sense of loneliness began to oppress your spirit, and your heart ached as it had never ached before. All of us need to be in community. God made us that way. In fact, it is an important part of His image in which we are marvelously and wonderfully made. If we are to experience the fullness of God in our lives, we must learn to live together, in spite of our differences, in spite of our annoying habits, and bad choices and yes, even in spite of our shortsightedness, selfishness, and even our occasional stupidity. God has made us to live together with each other, and a large part of being Christian is learning to live with others who share the name.
As the fathers of our Holy Mother the Church prayed, studied, and worked together in the first three centuries after Jesus, they were led by the Holy Spirit to condense the essential message of the Scriptures into what we know as the creeds of the Church. The three creeds, namely the Apostles’ (which we recite at Holy baptism and in the Daily Office), the Nicene (which we recite at Holy Communion), and the Athanasian (which ought to be rehearsed by all Priests at Morning Prayer on the high holy days of the church, but so seldom is anymore); these three creeds all posit two great and immutable truths about our faith. The First is the Holy and Blessed Trinity. The second is the Incarnation: or a firm belief in the unique, historic, and efficacious person and work of Jesus Christ in this world. Next week, we will talk about the Incarnation , and what it means for our relationships to each other and to God the Father, through (in the words of the funeral liturgy) the blood of the everlasting covenant, and in the power of the Holy Spirit. But this week, we will discuss the Holy Trinity, and what it means for us, for who we are, and how we live together.
Although the word “Trinity” was not used for two or three hundred years after the earthly life of our Lord, the gospels and the other books of the New Testament make it abundantly clear that the definition of the concept has been with us from the beginning of the Church. The Bible is clear that there is only one God, and yet there are clearly three distinct individuals, or persons, who proceed to and from each other, who communicate with each other, and who all receive divine honours on numerous occasions. I must admit, it is beyond my understanding, and honestly, it is beyond all human understanding. Many have tried to explain it, and many explanations are helpful in illustrating some aspect of the concept, but they all fall short. They either combine or confound the persons and make God out to be either a king, far away and unapproachable, or make him into our buddy, thereby denying his power and holiness. In short, God’s nature is trinity in unity. After a sense, three is one and one is three. Smarter people than me have tried to explain it, and have had no more luck than I have had. But the fact remains that the Bible clearly teaches it, the Church has always affirmed it, and Christians are bound to believe it, even if we do not understand it.
But even if we cannot understand it, it makes a wonderful difference in our lives, and models for us how we ought to live together. Stay with me now, for we are at the heart of the matter. I cannot imagine the Father without the Son and the Spirit. I cannot imagine the Son without the Father and the Spirit. I cannot imagine the Spirit without the Father and the Son. They are inseparable and go together like peanut butter and jelly, like salt and pepper, like carrots and peas. Now imagine a church, a local parish or a broader body of believers, where if any one of us were not there, it simply wouldn’t be the same. Imagine a place where if you were absent for a few weeks, you would get calls and cards, not because of some program organized by the staff, but because the people who sit by you each week, the people who kneel with you at the altar, really do miss you and care enough to be concerned. We are not there yet, none of us are, and none of us ever have been. But that is our ideal, because we are those who bear the imagio Dei, the image of God in our lives and in our institutions. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful place to go to Church? Wouldn’t it be a great family to be a part of? Wouldn’t it make you feel truly loved, and give you a sense of belonging beyond anything you could ever imagine? To never be lonely again. That is the real beauty of the Doctrine of the Holy Trinity. It is one of the two essential doctrines of our Faith, and it is eminently practical every day of our lives.
And so what does it mean for us today? I would submit that we are bound to apply the doctrine of the Trinity in at least two ways, first in our Ecclesiology, that is what we believe about the Church, and secondly in our parish, where we live every day and interact with each other. For the first thousand years, there was a basic agreement that a Christian was a Christian, was a Christian. A Priest from Britannia or what was later called the English Heptarchy was recognized as a Priest in valid orders in Rome, or Constantinople, in Baghdad, in Constantinople, or in Addis Ababba. Holy Communion was shared and was the common currency of the Christian Experience. There were times when Christians fought like only siblings can fight, and the Church was racked with distressing regularity by sin, bad manners, and selfish personalities. But the Faith was one, characterized by one Scripture, two Testaments, Three creeds, Four Councils, and Five Centuries of shared experience under a common Lord and Saviour. And then we began to value our own druthers over the unity offered us in Christ and modeled in the character of God himself. The Church split in the 11th century, and again in the 16th, and we have been at it on a regular basis ever since. History has made it abundantly clear that heresies come and go, as does bad behaviour. False doctrines that were on everyone’s lips in 1700 are barely known by anyone save specialty historians today. But there is almost never a reunion after a split occurs in the body of Christ. We live in a world where many would coerce and control those who disagree with them in the Name of God. We also live in a world where many would demand their own way at any cost, even if it means rending the robe of Christ, also in the Name of God. And so we are faced with an unpleasant choice between those who would bludgeon us with catholicity and say that we must all be the same, or those who would define the faith in terms of their own experience and break communion with everyone else. I would submit that Trinitarian faith offers a third way, whereby we maintain our principles by living them faithfully, and allowing others to do the same. The faith is defined as the creeds define it, on other issues, we argue rationally and live faithfully. In such a faith, I cannot imagine a world where other Creedal Christians, be they Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, or something else, were not my neighbors and friends. Some of them might annoy me to no end, and I might find their worship to be other than I would choose, but I acknowledge the validity of their faith and welcome them to the Communion table, even if they don’t acknowledge the validity of my faith or welcome me to their Communion table. How dare I take it upon myself to split the body of Christ again, however egregious the belief or behaviour of someone else might be. I shall live the faith as I have received it, imperfectly for sure, but as faithfully as I can with God’s help.
And that brings us to our local parish, St. John’s. Take a moment to look at the folks sitting around you…… Some of them you may like, and there are probably one or two that well, let’s just say you are not soul mates. But God has put us all here together. And he has called us to love each other even as he has loved us all. There is a place here for all of us, those who are close to God, and those who wander a bit more than they ought. God in his mercy has brought us together, and he calls us in the midst of our differences to learn to live together, and to care about each other to such a degree that we can’t imagine what it would be like if any one of us were missing. You see, God has chosen us to model for the world what he models for us in his own nature, and in his own being. We are all of the Holy and Blessed Trinity that most people will ever see. Do we live together in such a way that in spite of our differences and faults, people look at our parish and see a place where everyone belongs, and is loved, and finds a place? Do you feel that you really belong here? Are you doing all you can to make others feel that way as well. Have you made a commitment not to coerce or bully anyone here, even if they are wrong, and even if they try to do those things to you? Imagine a place where you were so loved that if you missed a few weeks, people, even people who disagreed with you politically, and behaviorally, and in many of their druthers, cared so much for you that they called to see how you were doing, not because there was a program that induced them to do so, but because they really did care. Let us all commit today to ask God to help us to build such a church, a Trinitarian Church, and might we do our very best to love those around us. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. AMEN.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Ideas for Drawing Closer to God

Rector’s Rambling: November 2010
It is a warm night for late October. The terriers pace listlessly and outside, I hear the last of the crickets singing their nearly solitary songs. This has been a night for writer’s block if ever there has been one. It seems strange, because there is so much to write about this time of year. We are approaching the climax of the annual stewardship campaign at the church. Bishop Breidenthal is coming for his annual visitation on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. We will be gathering with our friends from St. Mark’s and Sixth Avenue for our Annual Thanksgiving service. And I have ten new chicks which hatched quite unexpectedly this last week. Any of these things could usually provide inspiration for a tolerable ramble, but tonight is different, and my deadline is at hand.
Last night at Fisher Catholic’s football game, I was pleased to be able to talk to Father John Reade, a friend and former member of our parish who now serves our Lord as a Roman Catholic priest. We spoke of many things, caught up on news, and laughed together. At one point, we shared with each other how difficult it sometimes is to maintain the regularity of our own devotional lives. There are so many good and necessary things that need doing, and which are important parts of our job descriptions as priests. I hear the same concern voiced by many of my friends who are involved in ministry, and I cannot help but conclude that if it is a concern for those of us who serve the Church professionally, it must be even more difficult for the good people of God who work a non-religious job at home or in a workplace forty or fifty hours each week, and try to juggle family and community responsibilities as well.
Several things have helped me to maintain the regularity of my prayer life and study time over the last few weeks and months. I pass them on to you not because I think that everyone will be able to use all of my ideas, but because you might find some of them helpful. None of them are original to me. One is drawn from Fr. Pat Reardon, an Orthodox priest in Chicago who helps my Ashley with things spiritual. Another is drawn from the English author Izaak Walton, whose Compleate Angler has charmed me for years. And then there is the Book of Common Prayer, which always draws me back, and is the property of all God’s people.
First, keep a list of the people you pray for, and pray for them specifically, and every day. A small book or a three by five card will often suffice. It only takes a few minutes to go through the list, and you can always add a new request, or cross a line through those prayers which are answered. Don’t let your list get too long, or it will get unweildly. Start with a new list each month, and re-enter those ongoing requests which really are necessary. You will be encouraged at how many of your prayers God actually answers, and will be drawn much closer to those for whom you pray.
Second, establish a place where you can go to be alone. I often take the dogs and walk down the trail to the cabin, or hermitage, at the bottom of our property. While they chase mice, I light candles and pray, or read, or both. Sometimes I sing evensong. Sometimes I read the great litany. Sometimes I read poetry, or the writings of the Fathers and Divines. And sometimes I just sit and think. It is a place where I meet God, and a place where I go with a sense of expectation. Seek out a place apart for yourself, and God will meet you there.
Third, familiarize yourself with the Book of Common Prayer. The edition does not matter. I prefer the older editions, but any one will do. To share those prayers and forms which are the common currency of the people of God through the ages brings me the comfort of knowing that I am never alone, and that I am a part of something much bigger and more profound than I can ever know. If you are unsure about how to start with the prayer book, give me a call sometime at 215-3900, and we will sit down and discuss some ways that you can get started on a wonderful journey of prayer book spirituality.
Finally, for today, think about developing devotional practices which involve all of the ways you might experience God. Many of us grew up in a word- based culture which has given way to a sight and sound- based culture. But there are other senses that can also bring us to our Lord. The feel of beads running through our fingers can be a powerful and comforting tactile experience of the presence of God. A scented candle or pinch of incense can call to mind in a powerful way that Scriptural image of the prayers of the saints arising before the throne of God as great clouds of incense. Along this same line, reading or saying your prayers aloud, or singing the Psalms and Canticles can be a way of transporting ourselves into the heavenly court. While most human bystanders will think you are insane if you do some of these things, I have it on good authority that dogs and cats don’t seem to mind.
As the days grow shorter and the darkness grows longer with the coming of winter, I hope and pray that we all might be able to take some time to seriously consider the nature and practice of our private time with God. Each of us will find that what works for us will be a bit different from what works for our neighbors, but as we seek Him, he will meet us where we are, and in a way that is custom tailored to our personality, to our needs, and to our situations.
Faithfully,
Bill+

The Authority of Love

Catechism Sermon I: Authority
Preached at St. John’s Lancaster 24 October 2010

The Bishop is coming! The Bishop is coming! On the Sunday after thanksgiving, Bishop Breidenthal will be amongst us to minister in Word and Sacrament. We will gather here for a single service at 9 AM. After hearing God’s Word proclaimed, and responding by renewing our baptismal vows and receiving the sacrament of the Body and Blood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, we will adjourn to the undercroft for a wonderful party with the parish silver, finger foods, and laughter all around. But what makes it such a special day? The Right Rev’d Thomas Breidenthal stands in direct line of succession to the apostles themselves, and he is for us a direct link to Christians throughout the world and across the centuries. He literally stands in the place of Christ, and we are called by the fathers of the church to honour him as we would honour his Lord, the Saviour of us all. As you might guess, I have some differences of belief and interpretation with the Bishop, but then, he also has some with me. In fact, I daresay there are no two of us here today who agree on everything. Life is a bit more complicated than that. In spite of our differences, we who name the Name of Christ, we who eat the flesh and drink the blood of God, are called to come together each week to lay aside our differences and affirm with the people of God through the ages that Jesus Christ, the second person of the Holy and blessed Trinity, came and died for our sins that we might be reconciled to God the Father; and that he, by the power of love, took up his life again on the third day and ascended into heaven that we might live henceforth in the power of the Spirit, sharing with every person in the world the good news that God has broken into history to give us purpose, and belonging, and union with God in this world and in the next. In contrast to such a great truth, to such a powerful message, our disagreements, as profound and important as they may be, pale in comparison.
In preparation for Bishop Breidenthal’s visit, I thought it worthwhile to review with the entire parish a sort of catechism, or instruction of the faithful. Today, and over the next three weeks, I hope that we will be able to review the essentials of our faith as Christians, and the unique witness we bear as Anglican Christians, known since the American revolution as Episcopalians. Our discussions will fall into four categories:
1. What is our Authority for the things we believe and do?
2. How does the Holy and Blessed Trinity model the nature of the community in which we live and bear witness?
3. What does the incarnation of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ say about the relationships we should have with him and with each other?
4. How do our peculiar traditions, and the Tradition we have received from the apostles, help us to sense God in our midst, and share him more effectively with others?
And so what exactly is our authority for the things we do? In short, our authority is the love of God manifested usward in Christ Jesus our Lord. When I wandered in darkness and sin, leaning unto my own understanding, and doing what I thought was best for me and mine, Jesus looked upon my pitiful blindness, on my selfishness, and on my insecurity, and he said to the Father, “I will go and pay the price for all his errors and confusion, that he might be reconciled to you and have a new start.” He loved me even when I was rebelling against him, so much that he laid down his life for me. Such loving sacrifice gives him the right, the authority, to come and speak truth to me. Such love places a fair claim on my life, and compels me to respond to his invitation and be restored to a healed relationship with the Father. Such love calls me to respond in kind, and to accept gratefully, if imperfectly, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, which enable me to become a conduit of love, his love, to all people, everywhere.
I, we, have been transformed by the love of God into what we were made to be. God is love, and we who are made in his image are called to reflect his love in all that we do. By his grace, he has given us the Bible, a collection of books written by human authors under divine inspiration which shows us the character of God, which is love. Because this collection of books is the God-breathed record of his self-revelation in Jesus, it is the place where we see the true nature of love. It is here, through the examples of patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, and ultimately through the example of Jesus himself that we see the sacrificial nature of love. “Greater love hath no man than this, than that he lay down his life for his friends.” It is here that we learn the degree to which love extends to every part of our lives, for we are to “love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and our neighbors as ourselves.” It is here that we learn the true nature of love when we realize that we ought to “do unto others as we would have others do unto us.” It is here that we see this law of love for God and man made practical in the tables of the ten commandments and in the working out of the laws of Israel in everyday life. As God’s love is the authority in our lives, and for all we do as a church, so is the Bible that body of belief which is given us by a loving God to help us in the understanding and application of that love to which we are called.
In his first letter to the Church at Corinth, Saint Paul sings the glories of Charity, or that Godly love which the ancient Greeks called agape. “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunted not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth….” Indeed, he goes on to say, “And now abideth faith, hope, and charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.” This is the love of God made manifest to us in Jesus Christ, and implanted in our hearts by the infilling of the Holy Spirit. A life characterized by such piety, such humility, such love, is all the authority any man or woman of God needs to reach out to a world in need.
We Anglican Christians have been blessed by God in so many ways to experience this love of God. Christianity first came among us in the middle years of the first century, carried by Jewish traders and Samaritan soldiers of Rome. It was cross fertilized in the second, third, and fourth centuries by the words and examples of Greek and French missionaries, and organized in the fifth and sixth centuries by Irish abbots and Roman bishops. By the time of Whitby in the seventh century, we had seen that the love of God is truly for all people, and that no single organization, or denomination, or national group has a monopoly on the experience or proclamation of God’s love. The man or woman who is transformed into the image of Jesus, and who lives humbly in the power of his love, bears the authority of God himself to reach out and share that same love in every situation. This is our authority, and this is our mission. It is who we are and who we are called to be.
And so in the words of St. Paul, the question remains, “Is the evidence of God’s love manifest in your life?” When your neighbors look at you, do they see Jesus? When they look at you, do they see someone who is long-suffering and kind? Do they see someone who is not motivated by envy, someone who is not always seeking to be the center of attention or characterized by prideful arrogance? Is your behaviour above question and reproach? Are you desirous of seeing good come to other people instead of always insisting on your own way? Are you able to walk away from a fight or argument, and to think well of others even when perhaps they do not deserve it? Does iniquity bring you sorrow, or do you enjoy a good laugh at the expense of someone else from time to time? Are you truly happy when you see the triumph of the good, and can you be happy for others when good things happen to them, even if you are left out? Are you willing to bear the difficulties and vicissitudes of life with your faith in God unshaken, and even in the darkest of times does your hope in God’s love burn brightly? Are you able to trust God and be patient when things don’t go your way? These are the true evidences of God’s love in your life and in mine. Where such evidences of piety and godliness exist, no other authority is necessary, for people will see in us the love of God, and they will know that God has come among us to offer us deliverance from the mess that we have made of our lives and in our world.
On this day, as we prepare for the visit of the Vicar of Jesus Christ, our Reverend Father in God, Thomas, let us beseech our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ to fill us with His grace, and perfect us in his love, that every man and woman and boy and girl might know the truth of the Good News of God through us. This is all the authority we need, and it is the authority offered to us by God. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. AMEN.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Thoughts on the Babylonian Captivity of the Church

Sermon Proper 23C The Sunday closest to October 12

Jeremiah 29:1,4-7
II Timothy 2:8-15

Preached at St. John’s

The city of Jerusalem is mesmerizing. To walk in the footsteps of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ is an experience which can transform one’s life. To look upon the walls of Suleiman the Magnificent and walk the path to temple mount is merely a short imagining to the citadel of David. The promises of God are everywhere. On the rock covered by the great dome of Islam Abraham lifted the knife to slay his son, his only son, and experienced the deliverance of God. Here David danced before the Lord, ensuring the disdain of those who thought too much of what others might say, but exhibiting that purity of heart which brought him the sobriquet “a man after God’s own heart.” Solomon the wise, in obedience to the call of God, erected the first temple in this place. To the call of the shophar and the solemn intonation of priestly chant, the faithful repaired to the worship of the one true God for generations. It was commonly believed that God would never let his holy city be defiled by the tramp of foreign armies, although he had never said so himself. But it was not the tramp of foreign armies which first defiled the holy city. Rather it was the disobedience of his own people which destroyed that city which had heard the songs of God’s praise and welcomed the entry of the great kings appointed by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
I have always yearned for Jerusalem. My favorite hymns are of the city. “And there’s another country,” “Jerusalem, my happy home, when shall I come to thee..,” “And we shall build Jerusalem, in England’s green and pleasant land.” Among my favorite psalms are the songs of degrees, which for centuries have been sung by the people of God as they approached the city of David, the city of God. “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.” “Behold, how good and pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.” You see, Jerusalem is for the people of God a metaphor of that heavenly city which is to come, which is to come down from God out of heaven as a bride adorned for her husband. Rebecca and I have long sought to make our own domicile a vision, a pale reflection of the city of Jerusalem, a place of harmony and beauty and godliness. We have never been completely successful, but it is our dream and our goal, that visitors to our home might gain a sense of that which is to come.
Imagine how the children of Judah must have raised their lament when their city was destroyed by the Babylonians, and they were dragged into those seventy years of captivity in a strange and foreign land. “By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land.” It must have seemed to the faithful that the world itself had come to an end. And the prophet Jeremiah wrote to them a letter which was to fill their nights with hope and their days with holy labour. “Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.”
Have you ever received news which seemed to indicate the demise of that which you held most dear in all the world? From time to time, some bit of information has such an effect on me. Perhaps it is an offshoot of my personality and experience, or perhaps it has some basis in reality. When it strikes, it cuts me to the core, and instills in me a brooding sense of doom that can take some days to pass. In those times, I look to the experience of the children of Judah and Israel after the first temple was destroyed and the people carried away. For seventy years they lived in a hope not realized that God would deliver them and restore the city of Jerusalem, and when finally the Persian king allowed their return, it was as if all the world was against them. The rebuilding project languished for a full generation. Fathers and Mothers died, and their children grew up with the promises of restoration unfulfilled. But they persevered, and built homes, and planted gardens, and reared families in that place of spiritual desolation where God had placed them. And in the end, their prayers were answered. The temple was rebuilt and the wall was reconstructed. The people returned to accomplish the mission that had been assigned to them some 900 years earlier, namely to be the bearers of Christ to the nations. You see, in the end, God’s will is always accomplished; not on our time table or in the way we might imagine, but his triumph is inevitable, and we are called to soldier on with hope through the hard times, living in and praying for those societies and times and institutions where he has placed us, and not leaning to our own understanding or our own ways.
On Friday, as I was perusing the church press, I was stricken by a spirit of what could have easily become hopelessness, or even despair. And then I sat down and read the propers for this day. I saw the admonition of Jeremiah to the people of God, and I heeded the wisdom of St. Paul writing from prison, “The saying is sure: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he will also deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful- for he cannot deny himself. Remind them of this, and warn them before God that they are to avoid wrangling over words, which does no good but only ruins those who are listening. Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved by him, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly explaining the word of truth.”
Many things will happen in this world, and all of us will find some of them not to be to our liking. But if we are faithful and true, and go about serving God with obedience, and with love, and with faith in the Incarnate Christ and the Holy and Blessed Trinity, refusing to be caught up in arguments and bantering over words, God himself will vindicate us, and we will be by his grace ushered into that heavenly city, the new Jerusalem. Be faithful my friends, and let no earthly events lead you to despair. Our God, the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob, is faithful, and he has named us as his own. AMEN.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Faith in the midst of Darkness

Proper 22C The Sunday closest to October 5

Haabakkuk1:1-4;2:1-4
Psalm 37:1-10
II Timothy 1:1-14
Luke 17:5-10

Preached at St. John’s Lancaster

Today’s lessons attest to the fact that the world can be a pretty rough place. It does not take a prophet or a philosopher King to recognize the fact that the evil seem to prosper all around us, and that for significant periods of time they seem to call the shots and accomplish their selfish and evil ways with impunity. Sometimes, as Saint Paul points out to His Grace, Bishop Timothy, good people find themselves in the most untenable of situations. And all of us, in the midst of life’s vicissitudes, have cried out with the disciples, “Oh Lord, increase our faith!” In general, or in philosophical terms, we can all see the reality of the human experience, and we sagely acknowledge that which is self evident. But what are we to do when these realities of a fallen world become so real to us that we ache within our hearts. What happens when we cry out for deliverance from cancer, or justice over some contractual situation which we agreed to when we were younger, or more foolish, or when our financial situation was so much more stable and hopeful? We cry out for God’s hope and deliverance, and like Habakkuk say, “how long, O Lord…will you not listen?” What happens when we see decisions taken by others, decisions which threaten all we love and have worked for, and we feel powerless to do anything? With that prophet, we cry, “Violence!, O Lord, will you not save us?” And who of us has not been in some difficult situation, when we have felt so awfully alone, and we knew that if we could just talk to the one that we loved, God would give us strength through that encounter? Echoing the words of St. Paul, we cry out in the darkness of the night, “I remember you constantly in my prayers night and day, remembering your tears, I long to see you that I might be filled with joy.” And yet our loved one for whom we yearn is still so very, very far away, across an ocean, or in another state, or on the other side of the grave. And we are so terribly and unalterably alone.
In such circumstances and at such times, we, with the disciples, cry out to Jesus, “Increase our faith!” And now as then, He seems to give us the same answer that he gave them, and it seems so insufficient. “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, be uprooted and planted in the sea, and it would obey you.” How many of us have asked with all the faith we could muster for some such miracle, only a hundred times more immediate or personal, only to see our situations remain absolutely the same, or worse. To pray , believing, and then to realize that cancer or diabetes still racks the body of the one we love; to lose a child; to find no escape from migraine headaches; to see a loved child walking along a path which will certainly lead to death and destruction in this world and the next; to see a parent or a spouse fade away to a mere shadow, both physically and mentally, of what they were in their prime; to see a marriage fail in spite of all our best efforts…the grief, and the anger, and the pain can be crippling in such a situation.
There are often those well intentioned friends, who like Job’s comforters, attempt to help us in such times. One will say that we simply lack faith, because Jesus always keeps his promises, and if the tree is not planted in the midst of the sea, the problem must be with us, and we need to be more holy in our actions and conversation if we wish to receive God‘s blessing. There is another who says that we must boldly claim the healing of God, and a third who wants to enroll us in a self-help program which will help us to see the possibilities in our lives and “just praise the Lord in everything.” They are all well intentioned, for the most part, but they are about as much help in the midst of our adversity as was Job’s wife, who counseled her suffering husband to “curse God and die.”
And so what are we to do in such times? Today’s propers give us an answer, but I’m afraid it is an answer which the practitioners of instant blessing, prosperity, and quick results will not like. The Prophet Haabakkuk is succinct when he responds to his own troubles by saying, “I will stand at my watch post, and station myself on the rampart; I will keep watch to see what he will say to me, and what he will answer concerning my complaint.” Paul is equally direct and realistic: “…God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline…I know the one in whom I have put my trust,and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what I have entrusted to him. Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.” Such language invariably takes me back to the old words of the signing at baptism, words which were our common Anglican heritage for centuries before our own American church unilaterally modified the baptismal rite which had been used throughout the communion and the church for so long. As the Minister made a Cross upon the Child’s forehead, he said “We receive this Child into the congregation of Christ’s flock; and do sign him (or her) with the sign of the Cross, in token that hereafter he shall not be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, and manfully to fight under his banner, against sin, the world, and the devil; and to continue Christ’s faithful soldier and servant unto his life’s end. Amen.”
The answer to the reality of evil in our world, and to suffering in our lives, is you see an answer which does not promise immediate deliverance in every instance, nor is it an answer which releases us from the call to embrace true faith, which is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. We are not called to expect that God will overturn the laws of nature, his own laws, at every turn, although from time to time it has suited him to do so. We are not called to live in some sort of denial of reality which exudes false happiness and is characterized by bad theology and a pasted on smile. We are called with Habakkuk, and Paul, and Timothy, and the Twelve, and with saints through the ages to do our duty, “and when we have done all that we were ordered to do, to say, We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done.” They understood that it was not about them, but rather about God, and his plan for us all. The whole duty of man, according to the old catechism, is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. That is best done by patient endurance and faithful obedience, all growing from a heart filled with love for God and man.
True faith is a gift of God. It is best known in the long times, and often in the dark times, as we learn to stand the post that we are assigned by God to his glory and to the extension of his kingdom throughout the world, that every knee should bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord! In the midst of the darkest time, our most discouraging time, we would do well to look to the east in anticipation of the return of Christ, the true king. He will come to vindicate his people, and to make all things right. “He abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. For this gospel, we, like Paul, are appointed heralds.” Such an appointment will of necessity bring hardship and suffering, because our enemy the devil lurks in this world, seeking whom he may devour. But we must never be ashamed, for we know whom we have believed!
So let us, with Habakkuk, that good soldier and true watchman, stand our post in all sorts of weather, and in the difficult as well as the wonderful times. Like him, might we anticipate the fulfillment of that vision of the end, which does not lie. “If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay. Look at the proud! Their spirit is not right in them, but the righteous live by their faith.” Might we live by faith, and thereby inherit all the blessings promised in Christ Jesus, our Lord and our Saviour, our brother and our friend. AMEN.