Homily for 15 March 2015--Fourth Sunday of Great Lent

The Power of God and the Importance of Faith

Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Great Lent (15 Mar. 2015, 26 Mar. 2006)

Hebrews 6:13-20           Mark 9:17-31

 

Today’s Gospel story of the man whose son was possessed by an unclean spirit teaches us about the power of God and the importance of faith.

The boy whose father brings him to Jesus is possessed by a demon or spirit that tries to destroy him.  It makes him unable to speak; it takes control of his body and throws him around, even into the fire and into water.  Actually, it sounds a lot like what we would call epilepsy.  We now understand that epilepsy and other diseases are not caused by evil spirits, but they still cause pain and destruction, and need healing.

In fact, we can look at this Gospel story as a metaphor or image for any kind of affliction over which we have no control and which works to destroy us and to affect those around us.  This could be illness of the body, such as cancer or diabetes or heart disease or AIDS.  It could be illness of the mind, such as severe depression or schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.  It could be an addiction, such as to gambling or drugs or alcohol.

Every human being has some sort of affliction or addiction, and every human being also knows and loves someone else who also is afflicted or addicted.  We all know how destructive these afflictions are; truly they do seem to come from evil or unclean spirits.

In the Gospel story, the spirit attacks the boy, which also hurts the father.  It is as though the Devil is trying to destroy the father’s faith in God by attacking his son.

When the demon sees Jesus, it immediately attacks the boy:  it knows that Jesus has power over it, so it tries to scare the father away from asking Jesus to heal his son.  But the father is desperate and determined.  He pleads with Jesus:  “If you are able, have pity and help us.”

At this point, he is not fully aware of Jesus’ power as the Son of God, so he says, “If you are able.”  Jesus notices the father’s uncertainty and tells him, “All things can be done for those who believe.”  This leaves no doubt of God’s power—“All things can be done.”  But at the same time it emphasizes the need for our faith—“for those who believe.”  So the father cries out, “I do believe, but help my unbelief.”

Belief, or faith in God, is our decision to accept God’s power and authority and control of our lives.  Illness and pain and suffering can be used by the Devil to try to weaken or destroy our faith, so, like the possessed boy’s father, we also need to ask God to “help our unbelief” as well as to have pity and heal us and those we love.  “Help my unbelief” is another way of saying, “Strengthen my faith.”  The more we turn to God for help, the more God can help us, for “all things can be done for those who believe.”

Believing, and holding on to our belief, takes work.  As Jesus told the disciples, some spirits can be driven out only by prayer and fasting.  Keeping our faith requires discipline and determination.  And we have to keep on, even when what we hope and pray for doesn’t happen, or when we cannot understand what does happen.  When we have faith, all things can be done for us.  There is no guarantee that they will be done, or when or how we want them to be done.  We cannot dictate to God; we can only pray, “Have pity on us and help us, and help our unbelief!”

And we can always give thanks and praise and glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, One God, unto the ages of ages.  Amen.

Homily for 8 March 2015, Third Sunday of Great Lent--the Veneration of the Holy Cross

The Cross is a Gift, not a Burden

Homily for the Third Sunday of Great Lent (8 Mar. 2015, 19 Mar. 2006)

Hebrews 4:14-5:6           Mark 8:34-9:1

 

When we come to the end of the forty days of Great Lent and the end of Great and Holy Week, we look upon the Cross as the terrible instrument of the Lord’s suffering and death.  We see Him nailed and set up on the Cross like a common thief.  We take down His precious and wounded Body and lay Him with tears and flowers in the tomb, and we erect the empty cross as a sign of our grief—but also as a sign that the tomb will soon be empty, Christ will be risen from the dead, our grief will turn to joy, and defeat will turn into victory.

Today we are half-way through the forty days; half-way to the tragedy of the Crucifixion; half-way to the triumph of the Resurrection.  And today also we focus on the Cross.  It stands in the middle of Great Lent like a shady tree in the middle of the desert; like the Tree of Life in the middle of the Garden of Paradise.

In the Gospel reading for today, Jesus tells us that if we want to be His followers, we must deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him.  This reminds us that we have choices on life’s journey—but only one choice will lead us after our Lord, God, and Savior Jesus Christ through death to everlasting life.

We can choose not to take up our cross and follow Jesus.  We can choose not to deny ourselves—in other words, we can choose to live for pleasure, or money, or power, or food, or drugs, or work, or whatever we want.  But that choice will not make us followers of Christ.

We can become followers of Christ only if we choose, as Christ chose, to take up our cross.  For us, the Holy Cross is like a staff or a walking stick that we use to support ourselves on our journey through life.  It is strong enough for us because it has already carried Jesus our Savior.  It will not fail to bring us back to Paradise.

At first, today’s reading from the Letter to the Hebrews might not seem to be about the Holy Cross.  But when we read it carefully and understand how the writer talks of Jesus’ sacrifice as High Priest, we realize that Jesus’ sacrifice for the sins of the people was His death for us on the Holy Cross.

The author shows us that every high priest chosen from among the people made sacrifices for the people and for himself—but Jesus, being God as well as Man, made a sacrifice of Himself, not of a lamb or some other animal.  He was the perfect sacrifice—the one who as God could offer Himself—the priest as well as the offering—so no more blood sacrifices have to be made.  In the Divine Liturgy, we refer several times to this “unbloody” or “bloodless” sacrifice—the bread and wine we offer become the Body and Blood of Christ that He offered once for all.

But because Jesus was human as well as divine, He understands how we feel.  He knows our self-doubt and self-contempt because of our sins.  He knows that we need a way to sacrifice something for our sins so that we can come closer to Him.  So He gives us His Cross to carry, so that we can share His sacrifice and follow Him to death and resurrection.

For us, then, the Holy Cross is a gift, not a burden.  It is a help, not an obstacle.  It is the way, not the destination.  It is not the end—it is the beginning of Eternal Life with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, One God, unto the ages of ages.  Amen.

Homily for 31 August 2014, the 12th Sunday after Pentecost--Are We Possessed by Our Possessions?

Homily for 31 August 2014:  Are We Possessed by Our Possessions?

12^th Sunday after Pentecost (1 Corinthians 15:1-11)                    (Matthew 19:16-26)

 

When we hear the parable of the rich young man, we often concentrate on the last verses, in which Jesus says it will be “hard for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of Heaven” and that it will be “easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle.”

Maybe this is because everyone is rich, or thinks they’re rich, or dreams of being rich—and they don’t want to be condemned or punished for what they’ve achieved or their success in business or in their professions.

One way to deal with this anxiety is to decide that only people with more money than I have are rich, so this saying of Jesus doesn’t apply to me:  I’m safe!

Or we could actually look carefully at the whole story and discover what Jesus is actually telling us.  Maybe this story isn’t necessarily about how evil rich people are.

A rich young man asks Jesus, “What good works must I do to have eternal life?”  He seems to be sincere, not a show-off trying to trick Jesus.  He seems to understand that salvation to eternal life depends on how you live—on “good works”—not just on obeying the letter of the Law.

Jesus’s first response might strike us as strange:  “Why do you ask me about what is good?  There is only One who is good.”  Is Jesus denying that He is God, the One who is good?  Is He saying that He doesn’t know what is good?

In fact, I think Jesus is telling the young man that he doesn’t even need to ask this question, because God, the One who is all-good, has already provided the answer?:  “If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.”  At that time, the Jews to whom Jesus was preaching would have been very familiar with the commandments—God’s instructions to God’s people, telling them how to live in a way pleasing to God.

When the young man then asks, “Which commandments?” he’s not being a smart-aleck.  Considering all the different commandments and explanations in the whole Jewish Law, he wants to know which ones are essential.  So Jesus tells him, and sums them up with “Love your neighbor as yourself.”  If we do that, we will also obey all the rest.

But the young man still has a sense that there’s something more he needs to know:  “I’ve kept all those commandments; what do I still lack?”  He follows all the rules, but he knows that’s not enough—at least for him.

So Jesus moves the discussion to the next level:  “If you wish to be perfect, sell your possessions, give to the poor, then come follow me.”  And the young man goes away sad, because he has many possessions.

Like many of us, the young man feels that he cannot make the ultimate complete commitment to Christ.  We want to be perfect—don’t we?—but then we don’t want to give up everything we have in order to follow Christ.

As the young man somehow realized, it all comes down to what is essential:  1)  What good works are necessary for eternal life?  2)  Which commandments are necessary to follow?  3)  Do you want to be perfect?

So this Gospel lesson isn’t about the evil of being rich; it’s about the potential evil of possessions.  (Being rich isn’t evil in itself—it means that you have more money to give to the church and to help others.)  If we have possessions, we are in control of them; we can sell them or give them away or use them for good works or walk away from them.  They are not essential.

But if, instead, our possessions take possession of us—if we are possessed—then we’re not in control; we can’t get free from them.  They have become essential to our lives.  And if possessions are essential, then God is non-essential.  And it will be exceedingly difficult for us to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

If we wish to be perfect, we have to understand that only God is essential.  Only God is truly good—and our goodness comes from doing God’s will.  As St Paul says, “I am what I am by the grace of God.”

If we wish to be perfect, understanding this is a lifelong process.  It is a journey from where we are—sinful, but hopeful—towards the perfection of God’s love and mercy and justice.

If we wish to be perfect, we have to keep the commandments—especially the spirit of the commandments, summed up in “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

And, finally, if we wish to be perfect, we have to clear out all the non-essential things from our lives—all those possessions that threaten to possess us.  And we have to focus on what’s truly important—beyond just doing good works.  As St Paul says, “what is of first importance,” which he handed on after receiving it:  the truth of God’s love expressed in the voluntary death and triumphant resurrection to life of Jesus Christ, our Lord, God, and Savior.

To Him, and to His Almighty Father, and to His All-Holy and Life-giving Spirit,  be thanks and praise and glory, now and ever and unto ages of ages.  Amen.

Homily for 24 August 2014, the 11th Sunday after Pentecost--If We Want Forgiveness We Have to Forgive

Homily for 24 August 2014:  If We Want Forgiveness We Have to Forgive

11^th Sunday after Pentecost (1 Corinthians 9:2-12)                    (Matthew 18:23-35)

 

The message of our Lord, God, and Savior Jesus Christ in today’s Gospel reading is clear and simple.  It shouldn’t take very many words to talk about it:  if we want God to forgive us for our sins, we must forgive people who sin against us.  If we want forgiveness, we have to forgive.

That’s it.

I would like to stop talking here.  The word of the Lord should be enough.

But I know from personal experience that it is not enough to convince us and change us without a lot of reinforcement.  Forgiving can be very hard.  When someone sins against us—by physically or emotionally hurting us or someone we love or something we value—usually we want to hurt them in return.  And then we expect God to forgive us because we feel that our feelings and actions are justified.

But Jesus’s point in the parable of the unforgiving servant is that we can’t have this kind of double standard that says “I’m OK but you’re not.”  If we want forgiveness, we have to forgive.

We usually try again to justify ourselves.  We say that the person who offended us acted unreasonably, irrationally, selfishly, pridefully—while we acted in a reasonable, thoughtful, objective way.

However, we cannot actually make that judgement.  We don’t know what is going on inside the other person’s brain and heart.  We don’t know all the circumstances of that person’s life that may have caused him or her to act as he or she did.  And if we judge and condemn that person anyway, we are the ones whose pride and love of self has taken control.

Sometimes we also need to remember that cultural differences can make people act in ways that are offensive or unexplainable to us.  We think that all Christians share basic values and so should always understand each other and never hurt each other.  But it is clear from experience that Christian values are influenced bu the cultural values of society at large.

An American Christian once told me that my job as a clergyman was to pray for the defeat of the “enemies” of his political organization.  A Middle-Eastern Christian once told me that Christian values required him to kill his son if that son disgraced the family.  I have a hard time accepting those ideas as Christian values.  But I must understand how they are influenced by cultural values.  And that helps me to forgive.

Ultimately, forgiving is something we must do in faith.  It doesn’t depend on the other person’s being sorry or apologizing or even realizing that he or she did something wrong.  It doesn’t depend on the other person at all.  It’s not a trade.  It simply is what we must do if we love God and believe that Jesus is the Son of God, the Savior of the world.  Our salvation depends on it.

Unless each one of us forgives our brothers and sisters from our heart, our heavenly Father will not forgive us.  And all of us, without exceptions, need God’s forgiveness.

And so, knowing what we must do and that God will give us the strength to do it, we give thanks and praise and glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, One God, now and ever and unto ages of ages.  Amen.

Homily for 17 August 2014, the 10th Sunday after Pentecost--Prayer and Fasting

Homily for 17 August 2014:  Prayer and Fasting

10^th Sunday after Pentecost (1 Corinthians 4:9-16)                    (Matthew 17:14-23)

 

The Gospels don’t contain many examples of Jesus’s getting angry, and His outburst in today’s reading seems especially surprising because it’s hard to understand why He suddenly calls his disciples a “faithless and perverse generation” and asks how long He will have to endure them.

It’s as though He suddenly snaps and asks them, “Haven’t you learned anything, following me around?  This poor man asked you to heal his son’s mental illness and you couldn’t even do that!  Do I have to do everything myself?”

Then, after Jesus has driven out the demon that is tormenting the boy, curing his madness, the disciples ask, “Why couldn’t we do that?”

Jesus has calmed down, but He still tells them bluntly, “You couldn’t do it because your faith is too small.”  When He says, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could move a mountain,” Jesus is telling the disciples how tiny and weak their faith is—it’s not even as big as a mustard seed.

Then He tells them, “This kind of demon can be driven out only by prayer and fasting.”  Again, He seems to be saying, “You didn’t succeed because you didn’t have enough faith even to do the most basic things—prayer and fasting.”

How does this apply to us?

First, we are all disciples of Jesus Christ.  Being disciples didn’t end with those few who actually knew and listened to and hung out with Jesus.  We have been baptized into Christ; we have been sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit; we have been nourished by the true Body and Blood of Christ-God; we come to church and sing the Liturgy and listen to the readings from the Holy Bible.  Many of us pray at home and study the Bible at home.  So, like Peter, Andrew, James, John, and the other disciples, we are following Jesus and should be learning from him.

Second, like the original disciples we often fail to heal spiritual and physical problems—our own or those that other people ask us to pray for.

So this must mean that we also don’t have strong enough faith, and that we don’t pray and fast enough.

Of course, in this modern age we realize that mental illness is not literally caused by demons.  But if we think of the suffering that mental illness causes, we can’t help thinking that somehow it is demonic or Satanic.  Maybe prayer alone cannot magically cure it or other diseases and suffering, but prayer can change attitudes, give comfort, and bring strength.  Prayer can help us to overcome pride and stubbornness and fear so that we can ask for and find help.  An atmosphere of calm and love and caring that comes from faith will make any sick person feel better.

What Jesus doesn’t directly say is that our prayer and fasting changes us more than it changes a sick person.  When we have stronger faith and live in love rather than in anger or despair, when we learn to control our passions, when we learn to seek what God wants instead of what we want, then we can help to heal others who are suffering.

So, even if our faith is smaller than a mustard seed (and whose isn’t, compared to Christ’s?), we don’t have to be “faithless and perverse.”  We can simply pray, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.”  We can fast without complaining, appreciating God’s goodness and being thankful that we have enough so that we can easily give up some of it.  And we can pray for each other, knowing that even if we cannot cure someone’s illness, God will provide what we lack and will provide what we need.

And so we give thanks and praise and glory to the Eternal Father, the Son, and the All-Holy, Good, and Life-giving Spirit, One God, now and ever and unto ages of ages.  Amen.

Homily for 10 August 2014, the 9th Sunday after Pentecost--Walking on Water

Homily for 10 August 2014:  Walking on Water

9^th Sunday after Pentecost (1 Corinthians 3:9-17)                    (Matthew 14:22-34)

 

We usually read this Gospel story as proof of Jesus’ divine power.

But what if we look at it from the disciples’ point of view, especially Peter’s—and then see how it applies to us?

The disciples have been trying all night to get across the sea of Galilee.  It’s stormy, with high winds and waves, and they can’t get to the shore.  They’re tired, for sure, and probably scared.  Nothing they do seems to accomplish anything to reach their goal, to bring them to safety and security.

Then they see Jesus coming to them, walking on the water.  Of course they are terrified; they’re not sure who it is—doing what is impossible—but they are hopeful.  And He says to them, “Don’t be afraid.”

Peter, always the impulsive one, always ready to act before he thinks, challenges Jesus:  “If it really is you, command me to walk to you on the water.”

And Jesus simply tells him, “Come.”

And what happens?  PETER WALKS ON THE WATER . . .

Until he realizes what he’s doing, and notices the wind and the waves and the darkness.  Then he’s scared.  He begins to sink.  All he can do is beg Jesus, “Lord, save me!”

Jesus catches him and saves him—and scolds him:  “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

When Jesus and Peter are safe in the boat, everybody says, “Truly You are the Son of God.”  Why do they say this?  Is it because He rescued Peter or because He empowered Peter to something impossible?

More likely it was because He rescued Peter, but the second action is more important.

We look at what happened and see that the central point is that Jesus gave Peter the power, the ability to something “impossible,” something that ordinarily he would not be able to do.

When Peter—in faith—asks Jesus to demonstrate that He is truly Himself, and—in faith—obeys Jesus’ command to “Come!”, in faith Peter becomes able to do what no one can do:  walk on water.  But when his faith gets weak and he thinks about how he can’t do what he’s doing, he begins to sink.  At that point, he has only enough faith to call on Jesus to save him.

A lot of times, we are like Peter.  Something happens—a powerful liturgy, a deep prayer experience, someone we meet, even a really good sermon—that fires up our faith.  We make a new commitment to Christ and swear that we will do whatever He wants.  And we begin to walk on water:  we begin to live a truly Christian life—free, loving, brave; helping the poor, loving our enemies, becoming humble, not quarrelling or gossiping.

But then we notice the strong wind and the waves—the pressures of work and family and society; the sarcasm and ridicule, the criticism, the negativity, the pessimism, sometimes even from our friends—and we get scared.  We begin to wonder, “What if I can’t really do this?  What if God isn’t really there to help me?  What if I’m fooling myself?  What will people say if I fail?  What if I’m not smart enough or strong enough or good enough?”

That’s when we start sinking—when we begin to lose faith.

This is true not only of individuals, but also of groups—families, parishes, cities, even countries.

So each one of us, and our parish all together, must focus on Jesus Christ, the One who says, “Take courage; I’m here; don’t be afraid.”  We must build our faith by prayer and study.  We must encourage each other.  We must use our gifts.  We must love one another.

Even if we are tired and discouraged and it seems like our boat will not reach the security and safety of the land, we have to believe that the Lord is with us, and we have to get out and walk on the water—in faith—to Him.  He will not let us sink, because He is our loving and good God, and we give thanks and praise and glory to Him, and to His Eternal Father, and to His All-Holy, Good, and Life-giving Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages.  Amen.

Homily for 3 August 2014, the 8th Sunday after Pentecost--"The Miracle of Sharing is not Magic"

Homily for 3 August 2014:  The Miracle of Sharing is not Magic

8^th Sunday after Pentecost (1 Corinthians 1:10-17)                    (Matthew 14:14-22)

 

The Gospel story we read today is often called “The Miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fishes.”  In it, we hear how Jesus turned five loaves of bread and two fishes into enough food so that 5000 men, plus women and children, could eat and still have leftovers.

That sounds like magic!

But does Jesus do magic?  No.  He shows mercy and compassion, He heals, He teaches.  But He’s not a magician.  He is the Son of God and He uses God’s power of love to help God’s people.

So, let’s look more closely at what happens in this story.  The disciples say to Jesus, “Send the people into the town to get food,” but Jesus says to them, “There’s no need for that:  you feed them.”  And they reply, “But we have only five loaves of bread and two fishes.”  They were probably thinking to themselves, “And that’s hardly enough for our supper.”  Still, Jesus tells them, “Bring your loaves and fishes to me,” and He blesses and thanks God for the food, breaks the bread, and gives it back to the disciples to distribute.  Then, St Matthew writes, “All ate and were filled.”  And there were twelve baskets of leftovers.

That wasn’t magic!  It doesn’t say Jesus turned five loaves into 5000, does it?

So what did happen?

Maybe the great miracle here is that Jesus got people to use what they had for the good of all, instead of keeping it for themselves.  Have you ever heard of Middle Eastern people not having enough food to share?  Probably everybody there listening to Jesus had brought something to eat:  some bread, some cheese, fruit, dried fish, almonds, and so on—like the disciples did.

And Jesus told them to take what you have, give thanks to God, and share it, in faith that there will be enough and more than enough.

This is a good lesson for us in our small community.  We’re not rich; we don’t have a big new church building; we don’t have a parish staff; we don’t have a lot of kids in Sunday school; we don’t have a lot of families.  We need a new roof; we need more parking.  We probably think that we can’t stretch what little we have—our “loaves and fishes”—to take care of our needs and still have leftovers, to help others or to save for emergencies.

But the miracle of the loaves and fishes is that Jesus used the resources that the people had—even if they were not abundant, and even though the people didn’t think they had enough to do anything with.

We can’t come empty-handed and expect God to give us a handout.  We can’t expect magic.  But when we come together, united in faith and purpose, as St Paul tells the Christians of Corinth, God will take what we have and increase it and use it to provide what we need.

Of course, we’re not just talking about food and other material needs.  There’s also spiritual and physical healing.  And everything else the church community needs:  leadership, talents for ministry (singing, reading, serving at the altar), hospitality, teaching, works of charity, evangelization and outreach, repairs, cleaning, gardening.  And, of course, the parish also needs money—contributions and fundraising.

We might not think we have anything to contribute.  Sometimes someone else has to see what we have to offer—what we can bring—and show us how it can be used, just as Jesus did with the disciples’ five loaves and two fishes.

And we need to give generously.  Jesus didn’t say, “Keep some bread and fish for yourself, then share the rest.”  We should give what we have, in faith, for the good of all—and God will ensure that we still have enough and more.

When we bring to the Lord the resources that we have and share them freely for the benefit of the whole community, Jesus will work the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes here too!

So let us always give thanks and praise and glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, One God, now and ever and unto ages of ages.  Amen.