Tag Archives: Jesus

The Feast of the Annunciation 2012

Today is the celebration of the Feast of the Annunciation. It has a fixed date of March 25 but is transferred to today because this year the 25th fell on a Sunday and the celebration of Sunday takes precedence over the Annunciation. The following is from Holy Women, Holy Men – Celebrating the Saints:

Today’s feast commemorates how God made known to a young Jewish woman that she was to be the mother of his Son, and how Mary accepted her vocation with perfect conformity of will. It has been said, “God made us without us, and redeemed us without us, but cannot save us without us.” Mary’s assent to Gabriel’s message opened the way for God to accomplish the salvation of the world. It is for this reason that all generations are to call her “blessed.”

The Annunciation has been a major theme in Christian art, in both East and West. Innumerable sermons and poems have been composed about it. The term coined by Cyril of Alexandria for the Blessed Virgin, Theotokos (“the God-bearer”), was affirmed by the General Council of Ephesus in 431.

Mary’s self-offering in response to God’s call has been compared to that of Abraham, the father of believers. Just as Abraham was called to be the father of the chosen people, and accepted his call, so Mary was called to be the mother of the faithful, the new Israel. She is God’s human agent in the mystery of the Incarnation. Her response to the angel, “Let it be to me according to your word,” is identical with the faith expressed in the prayer that Jesus taught, “Your will be done on earth as in heaven.”

The following are post on this blog about the Annunciation:

Pour your grace into our hearts, O Lord, that we who have known the incarnation of your Son Jesus Christ, announced by an angel to the Virgin Mary, may by his cross and passion be brought to the glory of his resurrection; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. (Book of Common Prayer) 

Icon of the Annunciation to Mary

Watch for Snakes – A Sermon for Lent 4B; Numbers 21:4-9 and John 3:14-21

The collect and readings for the Fourth Sunday in Lent may be found here. The following sermon is based on Numbers 21:4-9 and John 3:14-21.

When I drive to Corpus Christi I usually stop at a little rest area alongside interstate 37 about 85 miles north of Corpus. As you exit the interstate and follow the ramp up to the rest area one of the first things you notice are two signs that say, “Watch for snakes.” It is a warning that there are dangerous things out there that can bite you, hurt you, maybe even kill you. So we are told to avoid the snakes and if you see one get away.

That makes sense. It’s good advice. It is, I suspect, how most of us try to live our daily lives. And it’s not just about the snakes that crawl on the ground. We live that way with regard to the snakes of life. We avoid those things we fear, the things that hurt us, that bite us and cause pain – not just physically but also emotionally and spiritually.

So we avoid dealing with our addictions and attachments. We ignore broken relationships. We put off doing the hard work of life. We turn away from our difficulties. We repress painful memories. We don’t acknowledge our fear, resentments, or anger. We refuse to think or talk about our own death. We deny the things we have done and left undone. After all isn’t that what the sign says? If you see a snake get away.

What if there was a different sign? What if the sign said, “If you see a snake look him straight in the eyes. Stare him down. See who blinks first.” It sounds kind of crazy but at some level that’s exactly what God told the Israelites to do.

Their impatience in the wilderness, their fear of dying, living with an uncertain future and an unknown destination, the emptiness, thirst and hunger, the difficulty of life – all manifested themselves as snakes in the wilderness; snakes that would bite, wound, and kill them. They would have to face the reality of their snakes.

It seems like a smart Israelite would turn and run. But when the Israelites tried that they died. We are not saved from our snakes by running away. God offers a different option. Instead of turning away, the salvation God offered the Israelites was that they were to stare at the very thing they feared. God’s ways are not our ways and God’s thoughts are not our thoughts. God’s logic often seems foolishness.

Somehow authentic life involves facing and looking at the reality of death – not only our own physical death but also the many ways we die each day. The daily deaths happen in various ways – in our disappointments, failures, and shattered dreams; in our regrets and sorrows; our loneliness; our anger, fear, and resentment; the losses and broken relationships we experience; the separation and isolation caused by sin.

God’s remedy reveals that the wilderness serpent is both the agent of death and the agent of healing. The cross of death is now the cross of life. God says, “Look at it. Look at the very thing you fear, the thing that bites, terrorizes, and kills you.” Those are the places in which Jesus Christ stands victorious. God does not remove the dangers and difficulties of life. Instead, God offers a remedy and a way forward. “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.”

In the person of Jesus, God became flesh to stand with us in the snaky places, to heal us, to make us alive, and lift us to the heavenly places. In Christ:

  • The place of fear becomes the place of courage.
  • The place of sin becomes the place of forgiveness.
  • The place of wounding becomes the place of healing.
  • The place of death becomes the place of life.
  • The place of falling down becomes the place of rising up.

The very things that destroy life in the human world are, in God’s world, the instruments of healing and salvation. In God’s world the cure for snakes is a snake, the cure for human life is God’s incarnate life, and the cure for death is death.

Those who are willing to look into the snaky places of their life will see the Son of Man being lifted up; the healing and transformation of this world and life. Christ says to each one of us, “Look on me, believe on me, and live. Turn your gaze and you will be saved by the God who sent me. I have not come to condemn the world but to love the world into salvation.”

This holy season of Lent asks us to discover and name the snakes of our life. And then decide. Will we turn and run or will we turn and gaze? Lifting our eyes to meet the gaze of love, the gaze of Christ?

* Reposted from 2009.

Denying Self, Choosing Christ – A Sermon on Mark 8:31-38, Lent 2B

The collect and readings for the Second Sunday in Lent, Year B, may be found here. The following sermon is based on Mark 8:31-38.

Then Jesus began to teach his disciples that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

"Get behind me, Satan!"

It’s a bit irreverent and certainly not scriptural but I have this mental picture of the disciples. It’s several years after Jesus’ death and resurrection. The disciples are together. They are talking about the good old days, laughing, teasing, and reminiscing the way friends who have shared a life changing experience often do. Then one of them looks at Peter and says, “Hey Satan, tell us about the day you rebuked Jesus!” Another joins in, “Yeah, how’d that work out for you?” Another, “What were you thinking about, Peter?” Peter begins to speak, “You know I just didn’t like the whole suffering and dying thing. I didn’t get it. That’s not what I signed up for. That’s not who I thought the Messiah would be.” The others become quiet. They recall that day like it was yesterday. They begin to realize that Peter didn’t say anything they weren’t thinking.

Maybe Peter didn’t say anything we haven’t thought or even wanted to say. Jesus has a very different understanding of discipleship than what most of us probably want. When another’s reality and vision begin to conflict with and overtake our own we rebuke. We take them aside to enlighten them, help them understand, show them the error of their ways. That’s all Peter did.

If we are really honest haven’t we, at some point, disagreed with Jesus, asking why he doesn’t do what we want? Why won’t he see the world our way? It all seems so clear to us.

  • If he can cast out the demons and silence the crazy guy in the synagogue surely he could silence the voices that drive us crazy.
  • If he can heal Peter’s mother in law why not those we love?
  • If he can cleanse the leper why does our life sometimes leave us feeling unclean and isolated?
  • If he can make the paralytic walk why are so many crippled by fear, dementia, or addiction?
  • If he can calm the sea surely he could calm the storms of our world. Yet they rage on; violence, war, poverty.
  • If he can keep Jairus’ daughter from dying why not our children, our friends, our loved ones?
  • If he can feed 5000 with a few fish and pieces of bread why does much of the world to go to bed hungry?

I have wondered about these things. I have been asked these kind of questions. I know some who have lost faith and left the Church over these things. These are our rebukes of Jesus. He is not being or acting like we want. Sometimes his words challenge and shock us. Maybe we’re not so different from Peter.

Just a few verses before today’s gospel Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter names him as “the Christ,” the Messiah, the Anointed one of God. Jesus is the one of whom the prophets spoke, the one for who Israel has waited, the one who was supposed to restore God’s people. Peter is right and yet he also does not understand.

Peter has an image of what the Messiah is supposed to do and who the Messiah is supposed to be. We all have our own images and wishes about who Jesus is and what he should do. All is well when Jesus is casting out demons, healing the sick, preventing death, and feeding the multitudes. We like that Jesus. We want to follow that Jesus. He is our Lord and Savior.

Jesus will not, however, conform to our images of who we think he is or who we want him to be. Instead, he asks us to conform to who he knows himself to be: the one who “must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” He sets a choice before us. It is a choice we each have to make. Again and again the circumstances of life set that choice before us.

We either choose ourselves and deny Jesus or we deny ourselves and choose Jesus. “If any want to become my followers,” he says, “let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Self denial is the beginning of discipleship.

I suspect that is not what Peter had in mind when Jesus said, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” I wonder if that is what we had in mind when we came to church today, or what we think about when our baby is baptized, or how often we understand and practice our faith as daily self denial.

Jesus’ words are hard and his way extreme. Surely God did not covenant with his people and bring them out of Egypt into the promised land only to say, “Now let it all go.” The Messiah is supposed to offer security, protection, and put Israel back on top. Faith in Jesus, Peter is learning, is not about the elimination of risks, the preservation of life, and the ability to control. Instead, Jesus asks us to risk it all, abandon our lives, and relinquish control to God. That is what Jesus is doing and he expects nothing less of those who would follow him.

The way of Christ, self-denial, reminds us that our life is not our own. It belongs to God. It reminds us that we are not in control, God is. Our life is not about us. It is about God There is great freedom in knowing these things. We are free to be fully alive. Through self denial our falling down becomes rising up, losing is saving, and death is resurrection.

As long as we believe our life is about us we will continue to exercise power over others, try to save ourselves, control our circumstances, and maybe even rebuke Jesus. Jesus rarely exercised power over others or tried to control circumstances. He simply made different choices. Self denial is not about being out of control or powerless. It is about the choices we make.

Jesus chose to give in a world that takes, to love in a world that hates, to heal in a world that injures, to give life in a world that kills. He offered mercy when others sought vengeance, forgiveness when others condemned, and compassion when others were indifferent. He trusted God’s abundance when others said there was not enough. With each choice he denied himself and showed God was present.

At some point those kind of choices will catch the attention of and offend those who live and profit by power, control, and looking out for number one. They will not deny themselves. They will respond. Jesus said they would. He knew that he would be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes. It happens in every age for those who choose the path of self denial. When it happened for Jesus he made one last choice. He chose resurrection over survival.

“If any want to become my followers….”

The Greatest Gift

“Christ, the Son of God, is the greatest gift God the Father could ever have given mankind; He is also the greatest gift mankind could ever have given to God the Father. But our Lord is also the greatest gift a human being can give to his brother. In becoming the ‘fragrance of Christ’ [2 Cor. 2:15], man bears within himself and radiates the humility and love of Christ through the grace of the Spirit of the Lord. Having made his own life a silent sermon, he humbly serves his brethren. He is a sanctifying presence. He takes upon himself his brother’s burden, after the manner of Christ Himself, Who bears the burden of the whole world.”

- Archimandrite Zacharias, Remember Thy First Love, p.  332.

Leave Home, Get Baptized, Go to the Wilderness – A Sermon on Mark 1:9-15, Lent 1B.

The collect and readings for the First Sunday in Lent may be found here. The following sermon is based on Mark 1:9-15.

The Temptation of Jesus

At some point we all leave home. It is something we do throughout our lives. Over and over we leave home. We’ve all done it. We leave home physically, emotionally, and spiritually. We leave those places that are familiar, comfortable, predictable. Sometimes we can’t wait to leave. We’re ready to go. Other times we would rather not leave. Sometimes we choose to leave. Other times the circumstances of life push us out the door. Regardless of how or why it happens, leaving home is a part of life. It happens in lots of different ways and times.

For children it might be the first day of school or going to summer camp. Young adults move out of their parent’s home to start college or go to work. The significant changes of life are forms of leaving home: a marriage, a divorce, the birth of a child, the death of a loved one. New employment or the loss of employment are about leaving home. Moving to a new town, retirement, the loss of health all involve leaving home. The major decisions that bring us to the crossroads of life are also about leaving home.

Leaving home can be difficult, frightening, and risky. It invites us to change and opens us to new discoveries about ourselves. It challenges our understandings of where we find significance, meaning, and security. Ultimately, though, leaving home is the beginning of our spiritual journey and growth. We are more vulnerable to and in need of God when we leave home.

Leaving home is not, however, simply about the circumstances of life. It is the way of God’s people. Adam and Eve left the garden. Noah left his dry land home. God told Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you” (Gn. 12:1). Jacob ran away from home fearing for his life. Moses and the Israelites left their homes in Egypt. And in today’s gospel Jesus is leaving home.

As Mark tells it, “Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee” to the Jordan River. He left his home and now stands with John in the Jordan, the border between home and the wilderness. There he is baptized. The heavens are torn apart, the Spirit like a dove descends, and a voice declares, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” From there “the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness.” Baptism may happen in the river but the baptismal life begins in the wilderness.

This story is not, however, just about Jesus. It is our story too. The Father’s words refer to Jesus in a uniquely literal way but they also apply to each one of us. By grace, gift, and the choice of God we are his beloved daughters and sons. If leaving home, getting baptized, and going to the wilderness is Jesus’s way then it is our way too. We leave behind our old identity, we are identified and claimed by God as his children, and we go to the wilderness.

That’s what this holy season of Lent is about. It is no coincident that on Wednesday we were marked with the ashes of remembrance, the dust of our creation, and today the gospel takes us to the wilderness. The two cannot be separated. Wednesday’s ashes lead us to wilderness soil. Lent is about leaving home and leaving home, in Lent and life, always takes us to the wilderness.

The wilderness is an in between place. It is a place of liminality, a threshold. We are betwixt and between. Neither here nor there. We have left behind what was and what will be is not yet clear. In the wilderness we come face to face with the reality of our lives; things done and left undone, our fears, our hopes and dreams, our sorrows and losses, as well as the unknown. These facts of our life are the source of our temptations.

We tend to externalize temptations and make them about behavior. Behavior is important but the real temptations are from within us, not around us. We are either tempted to believe that we are more than or less than the dust of God’s creation or we are tempted to not trust God’s willingness to get his hands dirty in the dust of who we are. The temptations are not finally about our behavior, breaking rules, or being bad. God does not tempt us to see if we will pass or fail. The temptations are for our benefit, not God’s. They are a part of our salvation. We leave home and experience wilderness temptations to discover that our most authentic identity is as a beloved child of God and our only real home is with God.

The wilderness is new territory for us. In the wilderness the old structures, the ones we left behind, no longer contain, support, or define our life. It is not, however, uncharted territory. The way has already been cleared by Jesus. It is the way home, the way to God. We go to the wilderness with the knowledge and confidence that Christ has gone before us. Leaving home is not so much a loss for us but an opportunity for God. In the wilderness our illusions of self-sufficiency become surrender to God, our helplessness opens us to God’s grace, and our guilt is overcome by God’s compassion. That’s what happens when you leave home.

We can never escape or avoid the wilderness. Like Jesus, we must go through it. We must face the temptations of Satan and be with the wild beasts. Yet we never go alone. The angels that ministered to Jesus will be there for us. “Remember who you are,” is their message. “You are a beloved son of God. You are a beloved daughter of God. You are one with whom he is well pleased.” Over and over they tell us. The remind us. They encourage and reassure us.

With each remembrance of who we are the demons are banished. With each remembrance of who we are we overcome Satan’s temptations. With each remembrance of who we are we take another step toward God. That is the way through the wildernesses of life. Remembrance after remembrance. Step after step. “I am a beloved child of God. With me he is well pleased.” Let that become our wilderness mantra. Let those words fill our minds, cross our lips, and occupy our hearts. The truth of those words is the way home.