Feel life as it is and know that God is there: A Homily for the Second Sunday after the Epiphany

Isaiah 49:1-7
Psalm 40:1-12
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
John 1:29-42

St. Thomas's Anglican Church
Toronto, ON

+In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

Pepperdine University, a private Christian university affiliated
with the Churches of Christ. Photo taken from usnews.com. 

When I was a younger man, I attended a conservative evangelical university in Southern California. [1] The school had a culture of Bible studies, student-led praise services, missionary-minded outreach, and testimonies. Though the evangelical practice of testimonials is meant to show and discuss how God is moving in a person’s life, people at this school often give their testimony to tell how God personally called them to salvation. Some people were quite good at telling a story, and their testimony resembled the hero’s journey of setting out, hitting a challenge, and in the abyss, they encounter God who personally calls them out of darkness into light and into a new life. I do not mean to discount people’s experience, often people find God and rely on God in the abyss. But these fantastic testimonies where they work hard and struggle to hear God’s call can put pressure on people who did not have such a fantastic journey to conform their life-story to this model. It was written on their face, and you could tell when people were uncomfortable doing this because they heard these stories and might ask themselves “am I truly called?”.

Our readings today are filled with language of God calling people to his service. Isaiah says, “The Lord called me before I was born, while I was in my mother's womb he named me.” Psalm 40 says “He lifted me out of the desolate pit, out of the mire and clay; he set my feet upon a high cliff and made my footing sure.” Paul tells the Corinthians “God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” Simon is brought to Jesus, and Jesus says to him “‘You are to be called Cephas’ (which is translated Peter or Stone).” Isaiah, the Psalmist, and Paul say that God calls people. Jesus as God himself calls people to him. We believe that God calls each and every one of us to something, but how do we know God is calling us? What do we do when we encounter God’s absence?

The North American experience of Christianity is deeply tied to the question of God’s call. We inherited this from the various Reformed leaders and writers of early-modern Europe. Martin Luther constantly questioned whether or not he was good enough to merit salvation, but he reasoned that God’s call to us is independent of our own action. But it still begs the question, how do we know if we are called? John Calvin answers this question and said that God called those whom he will save to him before the beginning of time, and that our call is predestined. But how do you know if you were predestined? Later generations of Anglicans and Puritans in England said it would manifest in our diligence and dedication in our personal labour and personal morality. As a kind of reaction to this, John Wesley, the founder of Methodism said that he knew he was saved because he felt his heart being strangely warmed following his encounter with the Moravians after experiencing much failure in his early ministry in Georgia. Our society merged these all these contradictory things together and our culture tells people they have to work hard to hear God’s call and have any meaning in their lives. We have to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps to hear God’s call.

But what if we don’t hear God’s call. What if we do all the right things, pray, read scripture, go to church, be diligent in work, and strived and suffered greatly to no avail? Some may find God in these things, but not everyone does. How many long nights of the soul have lead to no great revelation? How often have you laid awake in the dark, worried about how you are going to pay rent, worried about your sick child who cannot go to sleep, worried about what your purpose in life is, worried if this project is going to work, only to be met not by the heavens opening up before you, but by the silent indifference of your bedroom walls. As Isaiah says, “I have laboured in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity.”

Iao Needle on Maui

We may work hard to hear God’s call, and may hear it in isolation, but when God’s call does not come it can feel as if you are “standing atop the summit of a great mountain, the winds tearing about you, then finding yourself buried alive…trapped, helpless, and alone.” [2]

And yet, God does indeed calls to us, even if we cannot discern God’s voice. What is sometimes lost in trying to hear God’s call in isolation is the reality that God’s voice is not a reward at the end of a long journey to the top of that mountain, but the thing that drives us to the base of that mountain; to climb that mountain with one another, with our friends, family, and community; and to help others climb to the top of that mountain. God’s voice is often best discerned in relationship, community, and in service with others. Many people often do this even if they cannot discern the voice of God or are actively seeking it in their lives because it is simply the right thing to do. There is no great secret to God’s call because it has been revealed in Jesus Christ. Paul says that “in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind—just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you—so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ.” God’s call is therefore present, and we work to discern that call together with our community as we proclaim God’s “love and faithfulness from the great congregation” to the world. The voice of God is often best discerned in community and understood in the service of others. Wherever two or three are gathered, God himself is there.

When we discern God’s call, the heavens may not open up before us. We may not see the choirs of angels. But when you act in love and charity towards someone, when you show mercy and love to another person, particularly the most marginalized in our world, know that you are in the right place, at the right time, responding to God’s call to you, even if it does not seem readily apparent or be heard.

Easter Vigil, St. Thomas's Anglican Church

Life around us echoes with the voice of God, it is a melody that merges into a chorus of God’s song and we can hear it together with one another. We can hear God calling to us in the person on the street asking for spare change, the child who says come play with me, the joy of seeing a loved one, the cry of a victim begging for us to listen to them, the estranged friend who says I am sorry, the pull on your heart to forgive a great wrong, the noises of a child in baptism, the calm at the end of life, the words of Jesus in the Gospel heard in the midst of the congregation that calls you to have mercy on others. Feel life as it is and know that God is there.

Amen.

[1] Pepperdine University is a private Christian university affiliated with the Churches of Christ. Some may object to calling the Churches of Christ and Pepperdine evangelical and identify the Churches of Christ as a mainline denomination. Evangelical in this sense is not meant as a descriptor for a particular denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America calls itself evangelical but many ELCA churches do not conform or function like a typical evangelical church in the US. Evangelical is meant to describe a particular cultural and theological expression of Christianity, and that particular culture was the dominant one at Pepperdine.

[2] Quote taken from Kreia in Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic II.

Condemning Anti-Semitism: A Homily for the Epiphany

Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72:1-7,10-14
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12

St Christopher's Episcopal Church
Kailua, HI

+In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

There has been a major spike in incidents, crimes, and attacks motivated by anti-Semitism over the past few years. In the United States there were nearly two-thousand recorded anti-Semitic incidents in 2019 alone, and this is a major increase from the 700 recorded attacks in 2016. New York state saw nearly a dozen separate incidents over the course of Chanukah this year. Anti-Semitic crimes have also become more frequent all throughout the world as well. Even Hawaii is not wholly removed from this as a person suspected of vandalizing a Beverly Hills Synagogue was arrested in Kona on December 18. During the Feast of the Epiphany we as Christians should contemplate the meaning of the Gentile Nations paying homage to the God of Israel. As Isaiah says, “Nations shall come to God’s light, and kings to the brightness of his dawn.” We should meditate on the Christians origins from Judaism to better respond to anti-Semitism in our communities.

These past four years have seen an increase in violence against not only our Jewish neighbours. Incidents against black and brown communities have increased, incidents against migrants have increased, incidents against Muslims have increased, and incidents against LGBTQIA people have increased. It seems as if the world is becoming a more violent and dark place. The Church must not only condemn such violence, it must also be a vehicle of reconciliation between communities and a shield for the most vulnerable who face such violence. Presiding Bishop Michael Curry often has called for the Episcopal Church to be a place for people to walk in the path of love with one another.

In our response however we sometimes seek to collapse all forms of prejudicial violence into very simple language—all violence against marginal communities is wrong and needs to be condemned and there is little to no difference between the kinds of violence that different communities experience—hate it just hate. This is overly simplistic and sometimes blinds us to reality. Though all acts of violence are tragedies and require response, hate manifests itself in different ways and different forms for different communities. We must be cognizant of the particularities of the violence and how Christianity has influenced or created these different kinds of violence. Anti-Semitism is a unique problem for Christianity however because it is a virus that continues to mutate within the Church over the course of centuries and millennia and prevents us from fully engaging with and embracing our Jewish neighbours.

The history of Judaism and Christianity is a messy one. Jesus was an observant Jew who lived in Roman Judea and Galilee. Christianity is borne out of Judaism, but the when, where, and why Christianity and Judaism drifted apart is debated by scholars. In places like ancient Syria, Iraq, and Iran, Christian writers were complaining of Christians maintaining Jewish practices and customs as late as the 700s. Can we call these people Christian? Jewish? I do not know. Though Christianity was borne out of Judaism, both Judaism and Christianity continued to grow, change, and influence each other throughout history. The relationship is never a one-way street. The diverse Judaisms of today are different from the diverse Judaisms of antiquity, and yet there are threads of continuity across the millennia. The New Testament, and especially the Gospels, reflect the messiness of Christian origins within Judaism.

The Gospel of Matthew is the messiest of the Gospels in this regard, and the arrival of the Wise Men from the East is emblematic of that messiness. When the Gospel of Matthew was written in the late first and early second century, there was no Christianity. Such a distinction between Judaism and Christianity did not exist. The various Jewish communities in the ancient world were in disarray due to the Roman Empire destroying Jerusalem and its Temple of God in the year 70. Different factions and groups were left to pick up the pieces left by the loss of the Temple. One such faction were the communities of Jews who believed that Jesus was the promised Messiah for the Jewish people. The Gospel of Matthew was written to show how Jesus fulfills that role as a new Moses and a new David, Jesus is the prophet, priest, and king of the Jewish people.

The prophets, particularly Isaiah, are employed by the Jewish author to show how the coming of Jesus ushers in the messianic age for the Jewish people. The magi, magi being the Greek name for the Zoroastrian priests of ancient Iran, pay homage to the Messiah or Christ. They give him the gold of a king, the frankincense of a priest, and the myrrh of a prophet who will die for speaking the truth.However, just as this story highlights the Jewishness of Jesus, it is quick to condemn Jews who do not accept that Jesus is the Messiah. Herod and all of Jerusalem is frightened by the coming of the gentile magi to pay homage to the Messiah. It is Herod’s jealousy over Jesus’ claim to kingship over the Jewish nation that leads to his slaughtering of the children in Bethlehem which follows the arrival of the magi. However, such discordance between Jewish factions is not uncommon in Matthew.

The Gospel of Matthew contains a line that Christians have used to justify their violence against Jews throughout history. During Jesus trial in Matthew 27:25 “the people as a whole answered [regarding condemning Jesus], ‘His blood be on us and on our children!’”. Later generations of Christians believed their violence towards Jews was justified because of stories like that of Herod or the crucifixion—they accuse the Jews of being Christ-killers and say they deserve the violence as a form of human enacted divine retribution.

This is an extreme form of anti-Semitism, but it is congruent with many other kinds of anti-Semitism. It has emerged in many ways and at different times throughout history, but none of it has any place in the Church. However, it is the legacy we have inherited. We as the Gentile nations have been called to the God of Israel through Jesus Christ, but we must not forget that there are communities and people with whom God has formed a covenant with that has never been revoked. Our fore-bearers and ancestors have often deliberately overlooked the unique relationship Jews and Christians have with each other. Such ignorance has led to the horrors of the Inquisition, pogroms, and Holocaust. God will always deliver his people when they cry in distress, but the Church should not be the cause of that distress. Instead, we must cognizant of our common heritage with Judaism, learn how our traditions have grown, changed, and affected each other, and extend a hand of friendship and fellowship with our Jewish neighbors as one family of God.

Presiding Bishop Michael Curry has called on Christians to express their solidarity with the Jewish community tomorrow, January 6 in response to the rise in anti-Semitic attacks throughout the country. The bishops of the Diocese of Long Island wrote also that “We cannot stand silent before this fresh outbreak of anti-Jewish terror, We call on our fellow Episcopalians now to boost our own spiritual solidarity with our Jewish sisters and brothers. Anti-Semitism is a problem of special concern, not to be overlooked, to Episcopalians and all Christians. … Episcopalians should become a prayerful presence in the face of the fear and vulnerability created by these incidents threatening the Jewish community.

We as Christians are called to love our neighbors as ourselves. Our Baptismal Covenant commands us to “strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.” Just as we stand against all forms of violence and discrimination in the world, we must stand against violence against our Jewish neighbors. In a world which seems so keen on repeating the mistakes of the past. We can build a better world where God’s light can shine brightly.

Arise, shine; for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
For darkness shall cover the earth,
and thick darkness the peoples;
but the Lord will arise upon you,
and his glory will appear over you.

Amen

The Word's Body: A Homily for the First Sunday after Christmas

Isaiah 61:10-62:3
Psalm 147:13-21
Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7
John 1:1-18

St Christopher's Episcopal Church
Kailua, HI

+In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

The Sundays following Christmas are often the runts of the liturgical litter. After major mid-week liturgies for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, the First Sunday after Christmas can be easily overlooked and missed by people. The Readings for the First Sunday after Christmas however help us to understand the events that we celebrate on December 24 and 25. Just as we should not be so quick to rush through Advent in our desire to celebrate Christmas, we should not rush through Christmas for the next thing (even if people are already setting off fireworks before New Year’s, and even if Longs and Target already are putting out Valentine’s Day stuff). We should take time and really look at our Christmas decorations and really listen to our Christmas hymns in order to contemplate and understand the mysteries that we celebrate every year, and the readings today help us to do so.

Baby Yoda nativity. Thanks, I hate it.

We are very quick to domesticate the story of Jesus’ birth. It is the most well-known story in the New Testament: Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem and Jesus in born in a manger because there is no room at the inn. Angels appear to shepherds to announce the birth of Jesus, and they leave their flocks to witness this event. We have many forms of media that retell this, we have pageants to re-enact it the story, and we have kitschy nativity sets that recreate the event. We can also swap out elements in the nativity sets to make it more humorous or precious including cat nativities, football nativities, sausage and cured meat nativities, and Star Wars nativities with little Baby Yodas as Jesus.

To be clear, pageants and other re=telling this story are not bad things in and of themselves (though the Baby Yoda nativity is a problem for a whole set of reasons). However, in domesticating the Nativity of Jesus, we lose track of the cosmic significance of this event—the Creator of the World, the Word of God, has entered into creation itself. He took on the physical elements of this world and became human. The Gospel of John tells us that the immaterial takes on the material, flesh, blood, bone, cells, and all the messy aspects of life. That very matter that Jesus takes on, our flesh and blood, become the very vehicle and garment of salvation, as Isaiah says, “he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness.” Jesus takes on a body and takes on everything that comes with having a body, including those aches and pains we all know and love.

Paul says that Jesus came into the world in fullness of time, and in so doing came to a place and time. Psalm 147, in the parts we did not read says, “God is not impressed by the might of a horse and has no pleasure in the strength of a man.” Not only did the Word come into creation, he came in a specific place and time in history and entered the world in the most helpless and vulnerable way possible as an infant. Just as the creator of the world held creation in his arms, now the creator is held by his creation in the arms of his mother, Mary. His body has to be fed, protected, and cared for, and will grow up in a world where life for 99% of humanity is short, cruel, and poor. God chooses to become poor, and he enters into the world as a marginalized and oppressed person.

Though he will grow-up as a carpenter’s child he still grew up as a poor Peregrinus, a non-citizen or foreigner under Roman Law. His home was conquered and occupied by the Roman Empire. Through the toil and sweat of their labour, the people of Galilee and Judea served the Roman Empire under the watchful eye of the Roman Peace or Pax Romana which extracted heavy taxes from the poor to maintain the occupation over the land. The law and order of Galilee and Judea was maintained by the Roman legions who could extract labour or violence from the populace with little to no consequence. The King of the Universe comes into the world as a slave to a world and society that will reject him.

Once again, Psalm 147 says that God “sends out his command to the earth,” and authors the laws that govern creation, but now enters into the world to live as a subject to the commands and laws of creation and humanity. And yet, in the course of Jesus’ life, he causes, as Isaiah says, “righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations.” He feeds the poor, he heals the sick and injured, and raises the dead. Not for profit, not for political maneuverings, but because it is the right thing to do. The laws of physics bend to his command because what is good, and right cannot be stopped by human limitations around supply and demand or the laws of physics even. His very presence draws attention and power away from the rich, the powerful, and the elite. He makes to poor, the widow, the orphan, the oppressed, the sex workers, and the most marginalized the centre of a new creation.

He gives freely that which is restricted in his society, health and prosperity exist for the wealthy and powerful, and yet Jesus gives it and more to the poor. “The Lord lifts up the lowly but casts the wicked to the ground.”

The Word of God, who came into the world as a newborn infant will as an adult experience the worst violence and horrors that humanity can inflict on it through his passion, crucifixion, and death because he spoke out and acted against the cruel injustices of the world around him. He is executed for treason and sedition against the Roman state and died as a duly convicted criminal under Roman Law. But once again, in the fullness of time, in human history, Jesus is resurrected from the dead, and ascends into heaven with the very same body that he was born into. He carries the scars and traumas, the aches and pains, and the limitations of that body into Heaven in his ascension. The fullness of the human experience that played out on Earth are now in Heaven. Through Jesus’ body and experience, Heaven and Earth are linked together. All of this was done according to Paul “in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children.”

Our bodies too also bear the marks and scars of our history and traumas. Our bodies may also have been sites of violence where someone has done evil upon us. But that physicality is the garment of salvation. Those who are the most marginalized, and those who have experienced the hardships of human existence are the “crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of God” because Jesus became poor and lived and served among the most marginalized. They are his people. The scars borne by the poor do not go away but are held dearly by God and those who carry those scars become God’s children through the grace of Jesus Christ and become heirs of God’s promises for creation.

All this comes from God entering the world as a human child in a particular place, in a particular time, in a particular socio-economic class, and in a particular way. Each Christmas pageant, conventional nativity set, and Christmas hymn proclaim the story of the infinite entering into the finite world. It is such a small thing, but so often the course of human history turns on the little things. The eyes of a child reflect the eternity of God because the eternity of God was a child, and the incarnation of Jesus as a human being brings hope that there will be vindication for the marginalized in this world.

Come and behold Him
Born the King of Angels!
O come, let us adore Him
O come, let us adore Him
O come, let us adore Him
Christ the Lord

Amen