Sermon: 4 Lent 2011 -- Signs and Miracles

Sermon: 4 Lent 2011

(John 6:1-14)

Signs and Miracles: Abundance and Incarnation

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

We now have come to the middle of our Lenten journey, a journey of prayer and fasting and almsgiving. Lent provides time and space for us to reflect on Jesus and on ourselves, on who we are and who, by God’s grace, we have yet to become. The Lenten pilgrimage is also a season of confession and repentance. And so, I will begin today with a confession of my own. I confess before God and you, my brothers and sisters, that I do not believe in miracles any longer. I once did, but I have repented of it. I mean, of course, that I do not believe in miracles as they are typically understood. In our prevailing Western culture, a miracle is a disruption of nature. A miracle is God stepping into the physical world from which he is normally absent and rarely welcome to violate the laws of nature that govern that physical world. Miracles are the creation of a people who have forgotten that God is everywhere present, filling all things. Miracles are the creation of a people who have forgotten that it is in God that we live and move and have our being. Miracles are the creation of a people who have forgotten that the sun rose this morning not because of Kepler or Newton or even because of natural law built into a clockwork universe, but because our God in his providential care spoke into the darkness once again and said, “Let there be light.” Miracles are not Christian; they are the stuff of mythology or paganism or deism, but not of Christianity. For in Christianity God is Emmanuel – God With Us – feeding the sparrows, clothing the flowers, making his sun rise on the evil and the good, and sending rain on the righteous and the unrighteous – intimately involved with every aspect of his creation. God is not absent from us. He does not need to step into the world, for his is already and always here. Christ is in our midst: he is and ever shall be.

Our faith really owns only one miracle, for truly only one miracle has occurred from the foundations of the world: the incarnation of the Word.

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. 4 In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5 And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. 14 And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth (John 1:1-5, 14, NKJV).

The incarnation – the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us – is the only true miracle, for in the incarnation God did step into his creation from outside it. God the creator became part of his creation in a way that he was not before, and that disrupted the laws of fallen nature: the incarnate God was born of a virgin; the incarnate God was tempted in all things as we are yet without sin; the incarnate God was crucified, died, and was buried; the incarnate God rose triumphant on the third day trampling down death by death and on those in the tombs bestowing life. The incarnation is the one and only, truly Christian miracle, and everything flows from it as surely as the blood flowed from the pierced hands and feet of our God-become-flesh, as surely as the river of the water of life flows from the throne of God and of the Lamb (cf Rev 22:1).

St. John the Evangelist did not believe in miracles either, even though he saw wonder upon wonder in company with Jesus. He never uses the word “miracle” in his gospel, though some English translations impose it on him. Instead, John writes of the “signs” (semeion) that accompany Jesus’ presence. Following the changing of the water into wine at the wedding at Cana, John writes:

Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him (John 2:11, NRSV).

Signs are not disruptions of nature, but are revelations of God’s presence in his creation, revelations of the glory of God in the face of Christ, given that we might believe. Signs are the inevitable result of the miracle of the incarnation, sparks scattered glowing and sizzling from the burning bush of God’s presence. If Christ is in our midst – if God is indeed among us in human form – then signs of his presence must follow.

Once John the Baptist sent two of his disciples to Jesus.

20 When the men had come to Him, they said, “John the Baptist has sent us to You, saying, ‘Are You the Coming One, or do we look for another?’” 21 And that very hour He cured many of infirmities, afflictions, and evil spirits; and to many blind He gave sight. 22 Jesus answered and said to them, “Go and tell John the things you have seen and heard: that the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have the gospel preached to them (Lk 7:20-23, NKJV).

Well, of course: these are the signs that simply must follow the miracle of incarnation. When God is with us, creation is restored and men are saved and such signs point to Jesus. The signs that follow Jesus are not self-referential. They don’t point to themselves, but to something else; that is precisely what makes them signs. Signs point the way. Signs attract attention only to direct that attention to something else or to Someone else. The purpose of each healing was not merely to restore health, but to direct attention to the Healer. The purpose of each act of cleansing was not merely to restore ritual purity, but to direct attention to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. The purpose of each sign was to direct attention to the miracle of the incarnation, to the miracle of God-With-Us, and to our incarnate God’s redemptive purpose among us.

One of the clearest signs of God-With-Us is abundance. When Israel left Egypt at the first Passover, they left as newly freed slaves with a slave mentality still firmly intact, a mentality of lack: lack of power, lack of freedom, lack of security, lack of rest. The grumbling into which they often lapsed during this period is a reflection of the lack they had known and of their uncertainty about Moses’ and his God’s ability to provide.

When the forces of pharaoh pursued Israel to the Red Sea, Israel cried out to Moses:

“Because there were no graves in Egypt, have you taken us away to die in the wilderness? Why have you so dealt with us, to bring us up out of Egypt? 12 Is this not the word that we told you in Egypt, saying, ‘Let us alone that we may serve the Egyptians’? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than that we should die in the wilderness” (Ex 14:12b-14, NKJV).

We lack power. We lack security. But Moses replied, “The LORD will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace” (Ex 14:14, NKJV). The LORD is God-With-Us, and the sign of his presence is abundance of power and security.

On the fifteenth day of the second month of their freedom, Israel complained again against Moses and Aaron in the Wilderness of Sin:

“Oh, that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the pots of meat and when we ate bread to the full! For you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger” (Ex 16:3b, NKJV).

We lack food – meat and bread. And the LORD rained bread from heaven – manna – and meat from the sky – quail – and everyone had enough. The LORD is God-With-Us, and the sign of his presence is abundance of food.

Finally, after forty years of unlearning the slave mentality of lack, Israel came to the land of promise, a land flowing with milk and honey, a land rich in grapes and olives and figs, a land of pasture for sheep. The LORD is God-With-Us, and the sign of his presence is abundance. When the LORD is God-With-Us, no one goes hungry; there is enough and to spare.

In this day’s Gospel another Passover is near and Israel gathers on a mountainside around the prophet – not Moses this time, but Jesus of Nazareth. They are hungry; they lack meat and bread. When Jesus proposes that his disciples feed them, Philip reminds him that they also lack money. Andrew snags a little boy’s lunch – five barley loaves and two fish – but what is that among so many? We lack food, Jesus – meat and bread – and we lack money with which to buy.

And so the stage is set for the great proclamation: God is with us, and the sign of his presence is abundance. When God is with us, no one goes hungry; there is enough and to spare.

“Make the people sit down,” is all Jesus says. Then he takes the loaves, gives thanks, and distributes them to the people, and then likewise with the fish: Jesus conducting a Eucharist of bread and meat.

John, who chronicles this event, wants us all to understand: this sign of abundance, like every other sign he documents, points to the one and only great miracle, the miracle of the incarnation – God is with us, in flesh and blood, in the person of this Galilean carpenter turned rabbi. One stands among us on this near Passover who is greater than Moses on that great, first Passover, for the one who stands among us is I Am. The one who stands among us giving us bread and fish is the same God who provided manna and quail to Israel. The one who stands among us brings such abundance that 12 basketsful of bread and fish remain – one for each tribe of Israel, one for each disciple of new Israel. Our God – this sign proclaims – is Emmanuel, the God of abundance, the God of leftovers.

Still, John presses the point; he will not let us miss the incarnation to which this sign of abundant bread points. He records a conversation between Jesus and the Jews just days later at the synagogue of Capernaum. Jesus says:

48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and are dead. 50 This is the bread which comes down from heaven, that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread that I shall give is My flesh, which I shall give for the life of the world.” 52 The Jews therefore quarreled among themselves, saying, “How can this Man give us His flesh to eat?” 53 Then Jesus said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you. 54 Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. 55 For My flesh is food indeed, and My blood is drink indeed. 56 He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. 57 As the living Father sent Me, and I live because of the Father, so he who feeds on Me will live because of Me. 58 This is the bread which came down from heaven—not as your fathers ate the manna, and are dead. He who eats this bread will live forever” (John 6:48-58, NKJV).

Manna and quail, bread and fish: these fill the belly and sustain physical life for a time. But, the bread which comes down from heaven – the body and blood of God incarnate – that fills the soul and sustains eternal life, abundant life through the incarnation. The manna and the barley loaves were signs of the miracle of the incarnation – God-With-Us. The Eucharist with its bread and wine is the sacramental sign of the miracle of the incarnation, a sign which proclaims that God is still with us. In the Eucharist Christ becomes incarnate in bread and wine and in those who eat and drink, and abundant life follows.

If Christ is in our midst – if God is indeed with us and among us – then signs of his presence will and must follow. If Christ is indeed incarnate – not just as a rabbi teaching on the hills of Galilee, but in the bread and wine on which we feast and in the lives of those who eat and drink – then abundance must be manifest. If Christ is with even two or three who gather in his name – if Christ is with the Church – then the Church must exhibit such signs of abundance that the world can no longer ignore the miracle of the incarnation and the redemptive work of Christ in restoring the cosmos. And what are these signs of abundance?

Worship – an abundance of worship – is a sign the world cannot easily ignore: “Come, let us sing to the Lord. Let us shout for joy to the Rock of our salvation” (Ps 95:1, BCP). Not just any worship will do, of course: certainly not worship from the lips when the heart is far from God, and certainly not worship as ritual or entertainment. No. True worship – worship in Spirit and truth, worship that gives right glory to our God and Father through Jesus Christ in the Holy Spirit – is worship that is unshaken by earthquake, worship that is not drowned by tsunami, worship that is unbowed before tyrants, worship that gives voice to all creation in praise that rises from the heart and pours from the lips in the first and natural language of mankind, the language heard in Eden before the fall: “Glory be to Thee, our God. Glory be to Thee.” This kind of worship is a sign to the world that indeed God is with us.

Love – an abundance of love – is a sign the world cannot easily ignore: “By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another,” Jesus said and says still (John 13:35, NKJV). Not just any love will do, of course, and certainly not the romance or lust or even the casual friendship that often pass for love. No. Love as a sign of the incarnation is love that feeds the hungry, clothes the naked, binds up the broken, welcomes the stranger, forgives the enemy, prays for the persecutor, and lays down its life – all at once or day by day – for the sake of those who hate. This kind of love is a sign to the world that indeed God is with us.

Grace – an abundance of grace – is a sign the world cannot easily ignore. Not just any grace will do, of course, and certainly not grace as mere gentility or courtesy. No. Grace as a sign of the incarnation is nothing less than the presence and activity of God. An experience of true grace wakens the world from its sleep and makes it cry out like Jacob at Bethel, “The Lord is in this place, and I did not know it” (Gen 28:16b, LXX, The Orthodox Study Bible). Grace enters the pain of the world and stretches out its arms on the hard wood of the cross to share in, and as much as possible, to bear the pain of the world, bringing God’s presence into its darkest places. This kind of grace is a sign to the world that indeed God is with us.

Hope – an abundance of hope – is a sign the world cannot easily ignore. Not just any hope will do, of course, and certainly not hope that is barely disguised naïveté or rosy optimism. No. Hope as a sign of the incarnation is nothing less than stubborn and rock-solid eschatology – living in this present age with the certainty that Christ has already conquered every enemy and is even now putting the world to rights, living in this present age with the certainty that the last days have already dawned and the glorious consummation of all things is guaranteed, living in this present age with the proclamation always in our hearts and often on our lips:

Jesus Christ is Lord, and

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

This kind of hope is a sign to the world that indeed God is with us.

None of these are miracles; I do not believe in miracles. They are signs, and I do believe in signs of the one and only great miracle, the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ through which he conquered sin and death and reconciled man to God. And I do believe that, with Christ in our midst, signs of abundance will and must accompany the church – abundance of worship, abundance of love, abundance of hope, abundance of grace. These signs in the lives of broken but redeemed men and women and children will awaken the world to the glory, wonder, and power of the incarnation. Five barley loaves and two fish fed a hungry crowd. A little bread and wine can feed the world and restore the cosmos. It does not take miracles – just signs. Amen.

Homily: Eve of the Nativity (24 December 2009)

Diamonds and the Incarnation

If we had a diamond with us this night, no words of mine could add to its luster. It would be enough to set it in our midst and to shine the light upon it; then its brilliance and beauty would be revealed for all to see. The incarnation is such a gem; no words of mine can possibly increase its worth. It is enough to set it in our midst and shine the light upon it. This we have done by listening to the ancient words of the prophets, by singing the angelic Gloria with all the company of heaven, by bending the adoring knee with shepherds and magi, and soon by breaking the bread and lifting the cup with the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.

A beautiful diamond should not be admired for only a moment and then returned to a vault, unseen until its next, brief showing. It should be mounted in a ring and placed on a finger to adorn a hand with beauty. It should be worn with great joy every moment throughout a lifetime. And the incarnation should not be brought out and admired once every 25th of December and then returned to the vault of theology, unseen until next year. It should adorn the faithful with beauty and be worn with great joy every moment throughout a lifetime and beyond. Jesus did not become incarnate simply to show his luster and beauty, but to make us shine with his brilliance. Jesus put on our humanity that we might put on his divinity – ours by grace what is his by nature.

We must take the incarnation outward from this holy place into the dark recesses of this present age, take it and shine the light upon it so all may see its beauty. No words of ours are sufficient for the task, though they may sometimes be necessary. Instead, our lives are the gems we must lay before the world, lives illuminated by the reality of the incarnation we celebrate this night, lives made brilliant by the indwelling presence of the One who came among us. This night, this pure night, may Christ be incarnate once again: in you, in me, in all the faithful – on this pure night, as Saint Ephraim (Ephrem) the Syrian wrote in his nativity sermon.

Pure is the present night, in which the Pure One appeared, Who came to purify us! Let our hearing be pure, and the sight of our eyes chaste, and the feeling of the heart holy, and the speech of the mouth sincere!

The present night is the night of reconciliation; therefore, let no one be wroth against his brother and offend him!

This night gave peace to the whole world, and so, let no one threaten. This is the night of the Most Meek One; let no one be cruel!

This is the night of the Humble One; let no one be proud!

Now is the day of joy; let us not take revenge for offences! Now is the day of good will; let us not be harsh. On this day of tranquility, let us not become agitated by anger!

Today God came unto sinners; let not the righteous exalt himself over sinners!

Today the Most Rich One became poor for our sake; let the rich man invite the poor to his table!

Today we received a gift which we did not ask for; let us bestow alms to those who cry out to us and beg!

The present day has opened the door of heaven to our prayers; let us also open our door to those who ask of us forgiveness!

Today the Godhead placed upon Himself the seal of humanity, and humanity has been adorned with the seal of the Godhead!

Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace to men of goodwill! May your celebration of the nativity be truly blessed with the presence of the Incarnate One. Amen.

Sermon: 1 Christmas (28 Dec 2008)

Sermon: 1 Christmas (28 December 2008)
(Isaiah 61:10-62:3/Psalm 148/Galatians 4:4-7/Luke 2:22-40)
The Feast of the Incarnation: Ripples of Grace

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The world has moved on – “revolved from night to day,” as the hymn sings – leaving Christmas behind. Now it is plunging head long toward a new year: toward resolutions no one really plans to keep and toward bills accumulated during the holidays that no one really wants to pay. So be it; “Why Can’t Everyday Be Christmas?” is a fine song title but an unrealistic attitude. Christmas is over and “real life” has begun anew: time to move on.

But it is different with the church. In our best moments – when we are aware and intentional – we yield up Christmas to the world and ourselves to Christmas: to families and friends, to parties and banquets, to merchants and malls, to mistletoe and holly, to Rudolph and Santa, to Johnny Mathis and Nat King Cole. We enter into the festivities with gladness and abandon, and share our joy with the whole world; after all, the birth of Christ is good news, even if the world doesn’t know quite what to do with it. And our Lord Jesus never refused a good banquet himself – even if hosted by tax collectors and sinners who knew him not. Yes, we yield up Christmas to our world, but not the Feast of the Incarnation. That belongs to the church; it is ours, and if we are wise, we guard it zealously. It is the Feast of the Incarnation the church celebrates on 25 December – at least the church in the West – and on the twelve days following. And the Feast of the Incarnation – the incarnation itself – is not left behind on day thirteen. We don’t move on from the incarnation back to real life, for the incarnation creates a new and different real life – a life of the ages. The heart of God plunged into the heart of human history in the incarnation and sent ripples of grace propagating outward into all creation. And creation never has been and never will be the same again. The logos, the very Word of God and essence of God, the one by whom and through whom and for who all things were created, the source of light and life – that “Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth,” and from his abundance we have all received grace upon grace upon grace (John 1:14, NKJV, and 1:16, paraphrase). You do not pack that away with the decorations and ornaments, pack it away in the attic, pack it away out of mind for another year: not if you are the church of the Incarnate One.

The Lord Jesus Christ is the fulcrum of history, and at his incarnation the creation begins to tilt toward God. Everything before the incarnation looks forward to it and everything after the incarnation radiates outward from it. Isaiah saw it afar, and in words of prophecy spoke for Jesus.

I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord GOD will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations (Is 6:10-11, NRSV).

The Lord God clothed his only begotten son with the garments of salvation. And with what was Jesus clothed if not with our humanity? What mystery is this that our fallen humanity – when put on by the Incarnate One – becomes the garment of our salvation! The Lord God covered his only begotten son with the robe of righteousness. And with what was Jesus covered if not with God’s divine nature? What mystery is this that God’s divinity – when covering the offspring of the Virgin’s womb – becomes the robe of righteousness! And so the Lord God has caused righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations. As Jesus was clothed with our humanity and covered with God’s divinity, so now all of us who have been baptized into the Incarnate One have clothed ourselves with Christ, so that there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male and female, but all are one in Christ Jesus, all are Abraham’s seed, all are heirs according to the promise, all are children of God through faith in Christ Jesus (Gal 3:26-29). Blessed mystery of the incarnation!

When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. And because you are children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God (Gal 4:4-7, NRSV).

This is who we are, children of God through the Incarnate One, though our minds can scarce comprehend, through our eyes are blind to the glory. So we eagerly wait for our revelation as sons and daughters of God. And we do not wait alone.

For the creation eagerly waits for the revelation of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility – not willingly but because of God who subjected it – in hope that the creation itself will also be set free from the bondage of decay into the glorious freedom of God’s children (Rom 8:22-23, NET Bible).

Through the first man Adam, sin entered the world and with sin, the curse of disobedience, binding all Adam’s children to death and all of creation to futility and corruption. And though God could release creation by fiat, by simply speaking the word, God has instead bound creation to us in hope, so that creation will not be restored apart from us, but through us – through our adoption as children of God in the Incarnate One. And so now creation stands on tiptoe, eagerly waiting, impatiently longing for our full revelation as God’s children – waiting for us finally to live as children of God. In the meantime, creation groans and suffers – groans and suffers with birth pangs until Christ is born fully in us and God’s will is done fully on earth as it is in heaven. And on that great day when the last Adam, the Incarnate One Jesus Christ, is revealed in us creation’s groaning shall cease and creation’s praise shall resound.

Psalm 148 (BCP)

1 Hallelujah!
Praise the Lord from the heavens; *
praise him in the heights.

2 Praise him, all you angels of his; *
praise him, all his host.

3 Praise him, sun and moon; *
praise him, all you shining stars.

4 Praise him, heaven of heavens, *
and you waters above the heavens.

5 Let them praise the Name of the Lord; *
for he commanded, and they were created.

6 He made them stand fast for ever and ever; *
he gave them a law which shall not pass away.

7 Praise the Lord from the earth, *
you sea‑monsters and all deeps;

8 Fire and hail, snow and fog, *
tempestuous wind, doing his will;

9 Mountains and all hills, *
fruit trees and all cedars;

10 Wild beasts and all cattle, *
creeping things and wingèd birds;
[Hallelujah!]

Rarely are hymnists theologians, and more rarely still are theologians hymnists; but, on those rare occasions of convergence – when music captures truth and gets it just right – what glory we experience.

Joy to the earth! the Savior reigns;
let all their songs employ;
while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains
repeat the sounding joy,
repeat the sounding joy,
repeat, repeat the sounding joy.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
nor thorns infest the ground;
he comes to make his blessings flow
far as the curse is found,
far as the curse is found,
far as, far as the curse is found.

The incarnation is joy not to the sons and daughters of God only, but joy to the earth, to all creation, as well; for all creation now sees its future revealed through the incarnation of Jesus Christ and the adoption of men and women as sons and daughters of God – not revealed fully as yet – but revealed enough, enough to sustain hope and awaken praise.

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel” (Luke 2:25-32, NRSV).

There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.

This old man and this old woman are sign and symbol of the hope of all creation, incarnations in human flesh and blood of the expectation and longing of the world for the revelation of the Incarnate One. They are also sign and symbol of the faithfulness of God to his promises. Simeon and Anna see in this baby before them the redemption of Jerusalem, the glory of Israel, and a light of revelation to the Gentiles – not fully revealed as yet; it is a baby, after all – but revealed enough to satisfy hope and awaken praise.

The world has moved on – “revolved from night to day,” as the hymn sings – leaving Bethlehem, angels, shepherds, stars, magi, Simeon and Anna – leaving the first Christmas – behind. Now it is plunging head long toward a new year: toward problems no one really seems to understand and toward solutions no one really has confidence will work. So be it; “Why Can’t Everyday Be Christmas?” is a fine song title but an unrealistic attitude. Christmas is over and “real life” has begun anew: time to move on.

But it is different with the church. It is the Feast of the Incarnation the church celebrates on 25 December – at least the church in the West – and on the twelve days following. And the Feast of the Incarnation – the incarnation itself – is not left behind on day thirteen. The Word has become flesh and has dwelt among us. The Incarnate One has united in one person his divinity and our humanity and has thereby made us sons and daughters of God, filling us with the Holy Spirit and setting us on a journey of restoration into the very image and likeness of God. The Incarnate One has been revealed to all creation sustaining creation’s hope that one day it will be released from futility and bondage to corruption – sustaining creation’s hope and awakening creation’s praise. The heart of God has plunged into the heart of human history in the incarnation and has sent ripples of grace propagating outward into all creation. You do not pack that away with the decorations and ornaments, pack it away in the attic, pack it away out of mind for another year: not if you are the church of the Incarnate One.

Amen.

Homily: The Vigil of the Incarnation (24 December 2008)

On this holy night, on this Vigil of the Incarnation, I stand down to place you in the care of one far more able to open for us the great mystery of our faith -- the Word made flesh. Hear the words of St. John Chrysostom -- Golden Mouth -- from the 4th century, words cherished by the church for their truth and beauty. As we listen, may the Incarnate One bless us with his presence. Amen.

A Christmas Sermon:

St. John Chrysostom

BEHOLD a new and wondrous mystery. My ears resound to the Shepherd’s song, piping no soft melody, but chanting full forth a heavenly hymn. The Angels sing. The Archangels blend their voice in harmony. The Cherubim hymn their joyful praise. The Seraphim exalt His glory. All join to praise this holy feast, beholding the Godhead here on earth, and man in heaven. He Who is above, now for our redemption dwells here below; and he that was lowly is by divine mercy raised.

Bethlehem this day resembles heaven; hearing from the stars the singing of angelic voices; and in place of the sun, enfolds within itself on every side, the Sun of justice. And ask not how: for where God wills, the order of nature yields. For He willed, He had the power, He descended, He redeemed; all things yielded in obedience to God. This day He Who is, is Born; and He Who is, becomes what He was not. For when He was God, He became man; yet not departing from the Godhead that is His. Nor yet by any loss of divinity became He man, nor through increase became He God from man; but being the Word He became flesh, His nature, because of impassability, remaining unchanged.

And so the kings have come, and they have seen the heavenly King that has come upon the earth, not bringing with Him Angels, nor Archangels, nor Thrones, nor Dominations, nor Powers, nor Principalities, but, treading a new and solitary path, He has come forth from a spotless womb.

Since this heavenly birth cannot be described, neither does His coming amongst us in these days permit of too curious scrutiny. Though I know that a Virgin this day gave birth, and I believe that God was begotten before all time, yet the manner of this generation I have learned to venerate in silence and I accept that this is not to be probed too curiously with wordy speech. For with God we look not for the order of nature, but rest our faith in the power of Him who works.

What shall I say to you; what shall I tell you? I behold a Mother who has brought forth; I see a Child come to this light by birth. The manner of His conception I cannot comprehend.
Nature here rested, while the Will of God labored. O ineffable grace! The Only Begotten, Who is before all ages, Who cannot be touched or be perceived, Who is simple, without body, has now put on my body, that is visible and liable to corruption. For what reason? That coming amongst us he may teach us, and teaching, lead us by the hand to the things that men cannot see. For since men believe that the eyes are more trustworthy than the ears, they doubt of that which they do not see, and so He has deigned to show Himself in bodily presence, that He may remove all doubt.

Christ, finding the holy body and soul of the Virgin, builds for Himself a living temple, and as He had willed, formed there a man from the Virgin; and, putting Him on, this day came forth; unashamed of the lowliness of our nature. For it was to Him no lowering to put on what He Himself had made. Let that handiwork be forever glorified, which became the cloak of its own Creator. For as in the first creation of flesh, man could not be made before the clay had come into His hand, so neither could this corruptible body be glorified, until it had first become the garment of its Maker.

What shall I say! And how shall I describe this Birth to you? For this wonder fills me with astonishment. The Ancient of days has become an infant. He Who sits upon the sublime and heavenly Throne, now lies in a manger. And He Who cannot be touched, Who is simple, without complexity, and incorporeal, now lies subject to the hands of men. He Who has broken the bonds of sinners, is now bound by an infants bands. But He has decreed that ignominy shall become honor, infamy be clothed with glory, and total humiliation the measure of His Goodness.
For this He assumed my body, that I may become capable of His Word; taking my flesh, He gives me His spirit; and so He bestowing and I receiving, He prepares for me the treasure of Life. He takes my flesh, to sanctify me; He gives me His Spirit, that He may save me.
Come, then, let us observe the Feast. Truly wondrous is the whole chronicle of the Nativity. For this day the ancient slavery is ended, the devil confounded, the demons take to flight, the power of death is broken, paradise is unlocked, the curse is taken away, sin is removed from us, error driven out, truth has been brought back, the speech of kindliness diffused, and spreads on every side, a heavenly way of life has been in planted on the earth, angels communicate with men without fear, and men now hold speech with angels.

Why is this? Because God is now on earth, and man in heaven; on every side all things commingle. He became Flesh. He did not become God. He was God. Wherefore He became flesh, so that He Whom heaven did not contain, a manger would this day receive. He was placed in a manger, so that He, by whom all things are nourished, may receive an infant’s food from His Virgin Mother. So, the Father of all ages, as an infant at the breast, nestles in the virginal arms, that the Magi may more easily see Him. Since this day the Magi too have come, and made a beginning of withstanding tyranny; and the heavens give glory, as the Lord is revealed by a star.
To Him, then, Who out of confusion has wrought a clear path, to Christ, to the Father, and to the Holy Ghost, we offer all praise, now and for ever.

Amen.

Sermon: 4 Advent (21 December 2008)

Sermon: 4 Advent (21 December 2008)
(2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16/Luke 1:46b-55/Romans 16:25-27/Luke 1:26-38)
Sweet Kissing: The Mystery of the Incarnation

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

This icon – Sweet Kissing – written by the hand of our own sister, Susan, graces our small chapel at Trinity Church. I am drawn to it, particularly during night prayer when all is still and the lamps and candles cast a soft glow on mother and child. Like all true icons, it is more than art, more than image; it is a window into the mystery of our faith. This particular icon beckons us to contemplate perhaps the greatest of these mysteries – the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ.

The mystery of the incarnation is expressed not merely in the figures in the icon, but in its sacred calligraphy, in eight letters representing four words.

MP ϴY : matēr theou – mother of God

IC XC : Iēsous Christos – Jesus Christ

There is great theology here, and great history. The fourth and fifth centuries witnessed dramatic Christological debates in the church – attempts to answer the questions, Who is Jesus? and What is his nature? These debates were efforts to understand and resolve the apparent paradox of the divinity and humanity of Jesus Christ. There was a continuum of thought on the issue, and it was easy to be drawn from the center of orthodoxy to one of the opposite poles of heresy. There you might find the Gnostics and Docetists who denied the humanity of Jesus or, at the other extreme, the Ebionites who denied his divinity. But the church, the orthodox church, knew better, and defended the truth at all costs – and the costs were often high. Paul, not so distant in the past for these fourth and fifth century Christians, had written conclusively and authoritatively of both the divinity and the humanity of Jesus Christ, and these scriptures were still regularly read during worship by the faithful.

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; 16for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. 17He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. 19For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross (Col 1:15-20, NRSV).

In Christ is the fullness of God, Paul writes, insisting on Jesus’ divinity. And the church’s Creed reflects this understanding.

[I believe]…in the one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Only-Begotten, begotten of the Father before all worlds, Light of Light, Very God of Very God, begotten, not made; of one essence with the Father; by whom all things were made.

But this scripture by Paul was also read during worship.

5Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, 6who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross (Phil 2:5-8, NRSV).

In Christ Jesus is the fullness of humanity, Paul writes, insisting that Jesus was born in human likeness. And the church made this, too, part of its Creed.

[Jesus]…for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven and was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and was made man.

The Christological debates reached their zenith at the Third Ecumenical Council of the church held at the Church of Mary in Ephesus, Asia Minor, in 431. There, amidst charges and counter-charges, excommunications and reciprocal excommunications, the church finally spoke with one, united voice through the 250 gathered bishops. The church declared the Nicene Creed the true symbol of the true faith. The church condemned as heresy any doctrine which denied either the divinity or humanity of Christ. The church affirmed – as the only true doctrine -- that Christ unifies in one person both his divine and human natures – that Jesus Christ was, is, and forever will be fully God and fully man.

And these eight letters on the Sweet Kissing icon bear eloquent testimony to this fifth century victory of orthodoxy; for, at this council, the church bestowed upon Mary the title Theotokos – the God-bearer – and matēr theou – the Mother of God. This was no effort to establish a doctrine of Mary, but rather to affirm the mystery of the incarnation – God made man through the Holy Spirit and the virgin. This was no effort to worship Mary, but rather to affirm that her son – the man, Jesus – was truly the second person of the Holy Trinity and therefore supremely worthy of worship. This was not really about Mary at all, but about her son – her son and God’s Son – Jesus.

And all that, too, is right there in the icon, there for all to see: Mary’s head bowed in humility; her eyes not haughty, but downcast, her gaze averted; her hand directing attention, adoration, worship toward her son. Her title, Theotokos, – God-bearer – notwithstanding, it is not so important that she bore God, but it is essential that it is God whom she bore. Her title, matēr theou, -- mother of God – notwithstanding, it is not so important that she was the mother of God, but it is essential that is was God whom she mothered. That is the faith of the church. That is the mystery of the incarnation, the mystery revealed in the sixth month of barren Elizabeth’s pregnancy when

the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary (Luke 1:26-27, NRSV).

Luke, ever the physician with an eye for clinical detail, says it over and over like a refrain: Gabriel was sent to a virgin; the virgin’s name was Mary; Mary was perplexed, being a virgin. The gospels and the apostolic church resolutely affirm that Mary was a virgin and that her virginity is essential to the incarnation of Christ. Only through the virgin birth can heaven and earth meet and God and man become one in Jesus.

The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God” (Luke 1:35, NRSV).

The incarnation thus announced by the angel Gabriel is not incidental to our salvation and to the restoration of the world. It is not merely a way for Jesus to enter history on his path toward the cross and salvation. No. The incarnation is an essential part of our salvation. In the incarnation, Jesus took upon himself our humanity that he might bestow upon us his divinity. Jesus united, in himself, divinity and humanity so that mankind might be restored in the image of God, grow in the likeness of God, and be reconciled fully to God. In the incarnation Jesus embraced our corruptibility and gave us his incorruptibility. In the incarnation Jesus bore our sins and offered us his righteousness. In the incarnation Jesus suffered our death and bid us live his life eternally. The human and divine met in Jesus – embraced and kissed – that we might become the true sons and daughters of God, partakers ourselves in the divine nature. What a laudable exchange; what a great and praiseworthy blessing (Laudable Exchange, music and lyrics by John Michael Talbot) is the incarnation! Once we were children of Adam only, heirs of corruption and death, of nature distorted and bent toward sin. But now, through the incarnation, we are children of God through the new Adam, Jesus, and heirs with him of righteousness and life, of nature restored and empowered by the Holy Spirit. Through sin, what was true of Adam became true of all his children – all of humanity. Through the incarnation, what is true of Jesus is true of all his brothers and sisters – all who have become one with him through faith, baptism, and the anointing of the Holy Spirit.

Mary knew none of this when she responded to Gabriel: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (Luke 1:38, NRSV). It took the church some four hundred years of worship, prayer, study, and contemplation to reach an orthodox consensus on the meaning of the incarnation. But Mary knew this: the Lord had done great things for her and, through the son she would bear, the Lord would do great things for his people. So she proclaimed to Elizabeth, the barren one great with her own child.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; *
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed: *
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him *
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm, *
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, *
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, *
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel, *
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
The promise he made to our fathers, *
to Abraham and his children for ever (Magnificat, BCP).

Here is the Sweet Kissing icon, here is the mystery of the incarnation, not in line and form and color, but in prayer and song and proclamation: the virgin of Nazareth in Galilee blessed by God as Theotokos, graced by God as matēr theou; the mother-to-be, head bowed and eyes averted, directing attention toward the God of her fathers and toward the Son she would soon bear. Here is the one who will, throughout all ages, be called blessed, not because of who or what she was, but because of God’s divine grace and Mary’s human “yes.”

The mystery of the incarnation began with Mary’s “yes,” but it does not stop there; it rushes forward throughout all time and into every place where the gospel is proclaimed and the proclamation is received. Each of us is called by God to incarnate Jesus Christ, to unite our humanity with his divinity, to be flesh and blood sons and daughters of God in this world of ours.

26[For] in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. 27As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. 28There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus (Gal 3:26-28, NRSV).

We are called to be Theotokoi – God-bearers – not as Mary was, but no less than Mary was. We are called to be Sweet Kissing icons of the incarnation with heads bowed in humility; eyes not haughty, but downcast, gazes averted; hands and hearts and lives directing attention, adoration, worship toward the son of Mary and the Son of God. We are called to pray and sing and proclaim Magnificat: our souls magnify the Lord, for he has done great things for us. We, too, are called by God to be blessed throughout all generations, unto the ages of ages. Let the words of Mary – Theotokos and matēr theou – become our words: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Amen.