Saturday, May 17, 2014
Pentecost 5 Proper 8B , July 1, 2012 ~ The Hemorrhaging Woman and the Dead Girl
Sermon
for the Pentecost 5
Proper 8 B
~ July 1, 2012
Holy Trinity & St. Anskar
God did not make death…righteousness
is immortal.
+In the Name of God, the
Holy and Undivided Trinity,
Archbishop
Tutu is fond of saying that we live in a moral universe. There is an objective
moral law, just as real as the laws of physics —maybe more so, since they seem
to keep changing. What is right may not always be so easy to figure out either
— and our apprehension of it is according to our own imperfect understanding.
But the right itself is objective. That's one way to interpret the declaration
that righteousness is immortal. What is right does not pass away with persons
or cultures. Even if some science-fiction, doomsday, apocalyptic scenario were
to happen, and our planet and everything on it were destroyed, righteousness
would not be destroyed, because righteousness is immortal. Righteousness does
not depend on us. It is of God.
Another way
to understand what it means to say that righteousness is immortal is to say
that death is not an aspect of what is right, what is just, what is fair.
Wherever it comes from, death is most definitely not a just punishment imposed
by God on sinners. That is nonsense, just as the idea that the generative
forces of the world are somehow unwholesome or poisonous God did not make death…righteousness is
immortal. In other words, death is not God’s will and death is not just.
But we
still die. In fact all people die. Some of us die surrounded by family and
friends, full of years, and at peace. But most of us do not. The majority of
people lead miserable lives, characterized by suffering and oppression. Sad, pathetic
lives. Lives cut short, like Jairus’ daughter's, lives whose potential was
never reached. But then, who ever does fulfill their potential? The whole of
life is a series of decisions, forks in the road in which we have to take one
or the other and taking one means not taking the other, and forsaking it forever.
Nobody ever lives up to their full potential. Still, some lives are more
pathetic than others.
And that
isn't fair. It isn't just; it isn't right. "Life isn't fair". No, it’s not.
But that's the mystery of iniquity. That's the contagion of death that
has mysteriously crept into the world. And God didn't make it. Nor did God ordain
that life shouldn't be fair, but just the opposite that life should be fair because righteousness – that
is justice – is immortal.
The Son of
God came to fix that: to destroy the “works of the devil”, to destroy death and
unrighteousness. That is the subject of today’s Gospel, in which Jesus saves
two dying people. It is really significant that both of these people are women.
That is, people of no account, of no public significance. Life is draining out
of both of them. The incident of the woman with the chronic hemorrhage is
inserted, like a parenthesis, into the story of the comatose girl. Blood was
life itself to the ancient Hebrews. Bloodshed was necessary for covenants and
for atonement, but – paradoxically – human blood was also defiling. Anyone who
came into contact with blood became unclean for a time, as did anyone who
touched a dead body.
That is why
the woman was so afraid. She had touched Jesus. No woman would ever even speak
to a man, much less touch him, in public. Moreover, Jesus was considered a
Rabbi, a holy man – especially
untouchable! For a woman known to be constantly defiled by a hemorrhage to
touch a Rabbi would be a real outrage. It would make Him unclean. It was
entirely reasonable for her to fear that He would be angry with her for contaminating
Him. Instead, He praised her and called her “daughter”, and told her that it was
her faith that had saved her. Faith
and fear, again. The woman trusted enough to overcome her fear of offending the
Rabbi, but her fear remained. Jesus cast that out, too.
Notice that
the woman did not say to herself: “Well, I have an affliction, and it’s not
fair, but then life isn’t fair, so I will just have to learn to live with it.”
There are plenty of advisers who would have told her so. Then as now there were
plenty of sages counseling her to develop the serenity to accept that which she
could not change, to give up her striving to be whole. But that is not the attitude Jesus praised as
“faith”. What He praised was her refusal
to give up hope that things could change:
her trust in the goodness of God, her trust that God is not content with the unfairness
of life. This trust not only heals her, but it causes the Godman to call her
“daughter”.
This is the
second time this word occurs in the passage. The first is when the desperate
Jairus asks Jesus to save his “little daughter”. On the way to do so, Jesus is delayed
by the woman He calls “daughter”, meanwhile Jairus’s daughter dies. The
counselors of despair advise Jairus to give up, but Jesus says “Do not fear,
only trust”. Faith and fear again. I
notice that this pattern occurs also in the Raising of Lazarus, in which Jesus
delays while Lazarus succumbs. The latter story, in the Fourth Gospel, makes it
explicit that the delay was intentional, in order to reveal the “Glory of God”, but in
both stories the bereaved people take a negative attitude toward Jesus: Martha
reproaches Him for being late; the mourners at Jairus’s house laugh at Him
scornfully, when He says that the daughter is only sleeping.
But God did
not make death; God sent His Son to
destroy it. He does so, however, in private. He puts the scornful mourners out
and takes only the parents and the closest disciples – Peter James and
John – into the room of the dead girl. Then He
ignores ritual defilement again, taking her by the hand, and restores her to
life. But was she dead, or – as Jesus
Himself has said – only asleep? It is the scornful mourners who say she is
dead, not Jesus. But then Jesus strictly commands the witnesses that no one
should know about what had happened. Why, if she had only been sleeping, as He
had just said?
It is also
a little hard to imagine how the witnesses were supposed to obey this strict
instruction. Were they supposed to bury the girl alive? Forbid her to go out?
Everyone knew she had been sick to the point of death. Jairus was a well-known
public figure, who had sought Jesus’s help in the middle of a big crowd, and
everyone knew that Jesus had gone to the house even after the report of the
daughter’s death had come. Then there were those mourning people Jesus had put
out of the house. Some of them, presumably, had actually seen the girl die. How could the fact that she was now alive be
kept from everybody, so that “no one should know of it”?
Perplexing.
Maybe it points to another theme of the whole passage: faith and fear. God
cannot compel faith. For if it were compulsory, it would not be faith, just as
we do not hope for things we can already see. In John’s Gospel, Jesus’ observes that if people did
not believe the prophets, neither would they believe if someone rose from the
dead. Dostoyevsky elaborated: the
doctors and scientists would crowd around the resurrected person, confer among themselves, and then announce that
they would reserve judgment. A few
months later, a scientific paper would appear, redefining death. The
resurrected person was never really dead, but only in a previously-unknown kind
of coma. Resurrections, of course, do not happen. So, the raising of Jairus’s
daughter occurs in private. Dead people do not wake up, and when the girl
appears again among the living, skeptics are free to believe what Jesus said to
begin with “the child is not dead but sleeping”.
Both of
these victories over death were private. The woman was anonymous in the crowd.
No one, not even Jesus, knew what had happened. He just felt that “power had
gone out of Him”. He didn't know who had been healed until she came in fear and
trembling, fell down at His feet, and told the whole story. I suppose the
people pressing close to them in the crowd might have heard something about what
the woman thought had happened, but in the large, excited crowd, only a few.
The healing, though not exactly private
wasn't really that public either,
even though it occurred in the middle of a big crowd. What really happened was
known only to the woman. The woman could not doubt that she had been healed,
but then, she trusted to begin with, and as Jesus said, it was her trust that
healed her. Everybody else could easily ignore it. So even in these two
spectacular displays of divine power over death and injustice, people remained
free – free to doubt the activity of God in the world, free to resign themselves
to the supremacy of death and to the loathsome cliché that tells us “life isn’t
fair”. Whatever else we may think about these incidents, It seems clear that He
didn't want the news to get out .
Why? I can
think of two reasons. The first is that the Divine project of liberating the
creation from death, is much larger than these local victories. These are signs of what is going on, but what
they point to is vast beyond imagining. The Victory over the usurper death will
take place on an even more mysterious, cosmic level. As the Godman travels
around Galilee and the Decapolis He cannot not help undoing death wherever He
goes. But these healings and resurrections and exorcisms are almost incidental.
They help to establish His reputation and to lend authority to His otherwise
fairly-conventional teaching (as Nicodemus said to him in his nocturnal visit, “we
know that you are a teacher sent from God because no one not of God could do
the wonders you do") but the point
of these healings is that they are signs:
signs of God's will to set creation free from death altogether, for God did not
make death and God's righteousness has nothing to do with death.
The second
reason I can imagine for Jesus’s insistence “that no one should know” is that
God will not interfere with our autonomy. God will not force us to hope by
doing wonders that we MUST acknowledge. Divine love requires that God remain incognito in the world, for otherwise,
we would be deprived of our freedom, and thus we would no longer bear the Image
of God. God is not like the American
strategist in Vietnam who thought he could save the village by destroying it. God
will not destroy His Image in order to save it. Indeed, even God cannot free us
by violating our freedom.
So, even
the Resurrection on the Eighth Day occurred secretly: not just in private, but in secret. There were no witnesses to the actual Event, only to its
consequences. People like Mary Magdalene saw Him alive again, but they did not
see Him rise from the dead.
Nevertheless,
those who witness the results, like the Woman with the hemorrhage, Jairus and
his wife, Peter, James, and John, may – if they wish – celebrate the mysterious
hope that the bondage of death is undone. Those who are willing to live in this
hope may come together to rejoice, and to join in the common effort to advance
God’s justice, which has nothing to do with death. For “God did not make
death…and righteousness is immortal.”
AMEN
MARANATHA
COME, LORD JESUS!
Pentecost 3 Proper 6B, June 17, 2012 ~ The New Creation
Pentecost III
June 17, 2012
Holy Trinity & St. Anskar
So if
anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation:
everything
old has passed away;
see,
everything has become new!
+In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity
Paul's great passage about reconciliation gives me the
opportunity to pick up my favorite current theme, and add something to what I
said last time, when the subject was the nocturnal visit of St. Nicodemus to
our Lord. You will remember that the learned and sympathetic Pharisee was
puzzled by the notion of being "born from above". A clue to what that
means is found elsewhere in the writings of the same author — or at least of
his school of early Christian theology — where, in one of the epistles
attributed to him, St. John says
God
is love.
Everyone
who loves is born of God and knows God.
Born of God, you see. Maybe that is the birth from above
of which Jesus spoke to Nicodemus in John's Gospel. If so, it means that love —
the fruit of the Spirit, Who blows wherever She will — is spiritual rebirth. I think that has something to do with
ego-loss. Self-forgetfulness. Love is more than simple kindness or generous
disposition towards others. It is more mystical, and in a sense more
frightening than that. It has to do with the loss of our life, in fact our
soul, with the loss of whatever it is that, if we tried to hold onto it we lose
it, but when we lose it, we find real
life and our real soul. Hanging-on
to our little sense of self, to our little egos — is what Paul calls the flesh.
Today he tells us:
From now on, therefore, we regard no one
from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point
of view, we know him no longer in that way.
Well, the word of our version renders as human is none
other than this flesh, so in my
interpretation this passage could read this way:
From now on, therefore, we regard no one
from the point of view of ego-delusion; even though we once knew Christ from
that deluded point of view, we know Him no longer in that way.
Could this mean that — from time to time at least — Paul
has experienced a new consciousness of which he is no longer the center? It is
extremely difficult to explain this to those who have never experienced it. In
fact, the attempt to do so may well appear to be lunacy:
For
if we are beside ourselves, it is for God;
if we are in our right mind, it is for you.
The original Greek is helpful and maybe even
illuminating here: the word our translation renders as "beside
ourselves” [exesthmen] Is related to our word ecstasy. It can mean out of one's mind or beside
oneself, but it can also mean something mystical: astonishment, amazement, “a
displacement of the mind from its ordinary state and self-possession”. Self-possession.
There we go. Paul is referring to a transformation
of his sense of self as a result of his relationship to God in Christ. I
think this is also what he means by reconciliation [katallassw],
which we will get to in a minute.
Paul says that he is "beside himself", as regards
God. That is, for a time Paul finds himself outside his old, limited,
ego-centric consciousness — the sense of individual self into which we are
born, which he calls flesh. When dealing with fellow mortals, he has to
revert to that consciousness in order to appear not to have lost his mind,
because that is exactly how ecstatic people seem to others. For the sake of
those with whom he is trying to communicate, he must keep up what he now sees
as the pretense of the flesh— the
illusion that we are separate beings — while at the same time trying to convince
everyone that they are really a new creation.
So
if anyone is in Christ, there is a New Creation: everything old has passed
away;
see, everything has become new!
That's where our lectionary leaves it today, but Paul
goes on to talk, rather excitedly — even ecstatically — it seems to me, about
reconciliation, which is really what all of this is been leading up to, even
though our lectionary omits it entirely, and skips on to the next chapter next
week! Here's how Paul concludes this passage:
So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new
creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All
this is from God, who reconciled us with Himself through Christ, and has given
us the ministry of reconciliation; that is
in Christ God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their
trespasses against them and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us… For
our sake [God] made [Christ] to be sin Who knew no sin so that in Him we might
become the is righteousness of God.
Sin is alienation –
our self-definition as OTHER than everyone and everything else. This is
the exact opposite of the Divine Consciousness of the Three Persons, which is
Love. Sin is the opposite of Love. It is the state of individuality into which
we are born. In Christ, God has come into that state with us, so that we might
become the righteousness of God: so that we might join in the society of Perfect
Love which I've called the Divine Consciousness. We cannot enter the kingdom of
God until we have been born from above — until we exchange sin for love, flesh
for spirit, ego-delusion for self-forgetfulness.
"See, If anyone is in
Christ there is a new creation." The old translations render it —
mistakenly in my estimation — as an individual transformation: "If anyone
is in Christ HE IS a new creation."
What's wrong with this is that it is precisely the overcoming of
individuality that Paul is talking about as the New Creation — the
reconciliation provided by God in Christ — we are reconciled with God and with
one another. I think this means more than simply being forgiven by God and
forgiving one another. It is a metaphysical change, in which we are no longer
in Paul's ironic phrase "in our right minds" — our worldly, or
fleshly, or ego-diluted perspective, but we are "beside ourselves” or “out
of our minds” — those fleshly minds, those ego-minds. We are out of those.
We usually think of reconciliation under the influence
of our atonement doctrine: we need, individually, to be reconciled to God,
because of our misdeeds, and the blood of Christ makes that possible by paying
the penalty due for our sin. Indeed, the Latin word from which our word
reconciliation comes can be used in this way, although the Greek is not. In a
more humanistic sense, we also think of reconciliation as laying down old
enmities and grudges, and forgetting about other people's offenses against us.
It means all these things, but looking into the roots of the words uncovers at
least the possibility of an ecstatic and mystical meaning. The Greek word we
translate as "reconciliation" is related to the word meaning other as in alien. It means to change into something else, to exchange one
thing for another, to interchange and by extension, it means to restore to favor,
that which had fallen out of favor. Reconciliation in the sense of “restoration
to favor” is one of the ancient meanings, but at the deepest root there is
always the notion of change. Transformation. Exchange. Restoration.
Interchange. I want to propose that reconciliation can mean becoming interchangeable with one another
— that reconciliation means really loving your neighbor as yourself.
Reconciliation in Latin adds another interesting
connotation: coming together again, implying that some kind of previous togetherness
had been lost, which is now restored. That, in fact, is the usual meaning of
reconciliation, isn't it? Usually, reconciliation goes hand-in-hand with
forgiveness. But I want to suggest that it may mean much more, all-important
though forgiveness may be. I suggest that reconciliation is an actual change in
being, which is why Paul calls it "the New Creation”. The New Creation in
Christ:
Let me read the passage, substituting my own
interpretation of the words:
So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new
creation: everything old is passed away; see, everything has become new! All
this is from God, who interchanged reconciled us with Himself through Christ,
and has given us the commission to make you aware of it ministry of reconciliation; that is in Christ
God was changing the world into Himself reconciling the world to Himself, not
counting their trespasses against them and entrusting the message of this
transformation reconciliation to us… For our sake [God] made [Christ] to be
alienated ego sin who never had any such delusion knew no sin so that in Him we
might become the righteousness of God.
The cancellation of trespasses is part of the
reconciliation – the interchange of Being –
but it is far from the whole thing. The reconciliation of which Paul
writes seems to be liberation from the prison of ego – the flesh, as he called it — as we are incorporated into Christ which
means into the Mystical Body in which we are all one. The flesh is transformed – exchanged for the Body: the New Creation that is the Body of Christ. In the old, worldly,
fleshly, consciousness of self — from the perspective of ego — this kind of
talk is crazy: the lunatic raving of one “beside himself”, but in this new, ecstatic
understanding, in which everything old has
passed away — in which Paul has experienced the new level of consciousness
in Christ — it is the Message of Reconciliation: the incredibly Good News that
we have been changed — brought into the Eternal Communal Self: The Most Holy
and Life-giving Trinity: we are "reconciled" in the sense of being
brought into that Divine Being — together.
AMEN
MARANATHA
COME, LORD JESUS!
Pentecost 2 Proper 5B June 10, 2012 ~ New Garments
Pentecost II
June 10, 2012
Christ Church, Bayfield
I was afraid, because I was naked…
…if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from
God, a house not made with hands…
+In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity
The
Gospel today tells us of Jesus' combat with evil, life against death, expressed
metaphorically as a combat with an evil spirit. Jesus has come to undo the
works of the devil, the evil one, the mystery of iniquity, whatever it was that
happened to Adam and Eve in that first story. Jesus work is not entirely out of
the blue, either. God had been working for endless ages to bring humanity to
the point at which Jesus could do His work.
Let's
think of the Redemption as a process. Not an instantaneous event, but a continuous
series of events. Let's also recognize that this process is what is important
about the story of the Fall. We hear about the beginning of that process of
Redemption in today’s first reading. Notice the first thing that Adam says when
God asks him why he was hiding "I was afraid… I was afraid because I was
naked." God asks him how he knew that he was naked and then, without
waiting for an answer, deduces that Adam and Eve must have eaten of the forbidden
fruit. But why would the knowledge of good and evil make you ashamed to be
naked in front of God and to be afraid? There's something underneath the
surface meaning of this. What is this nakedness that Adam and Eve suddenly realized
was their condition? How is it related to the knowledge of good and evil?
First
of all, it may help to remember that "knowledge" means a lot more
than simply recognition. Knowledge of good and evil isn't simply the ability to
tell the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, and it's not just
about disobedience to divine command. Knowledge of good and evil means a
thoroughgoing awareness of them, and an intimate relationship with good and
evil. The human beings had come to the conscious awareness that there was such
a thing as good and evil in the world, and as God had told Adam and Eve, that
kind of consciousness goes hand-in-hand with the awareness that they were
mortal, the certainty that they were going to die: on the day you eat… you
shall surely die — you will be sure that you will die. But look what happens next, as the story
continues in a part we didn't read today.
The Lord God
made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them.
In
other words God immediately sets to work to make provision for our nakedness,
our vulnerability, our awareness of death, and our fear of it, by providing
Garments not made with hands. God
still loves us. And this isn't the end of the story but just the beginning of
the process of redemption. Maybe what we
traditionally call "the Fall” was really a necessary part of becoming
human, of creation becoming conscious of itself, of living into the image of
God. No less an authority Than St. Augustine of Hippo seem to think so. He
called the Fall "happy"! O
Felix Culpa, “O happy fault, that merited such a Redeemer.” This Redemption
in the Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, the New Adam, was the
culmination of a process of divine activity that began when God fashioned
clothes of animal skin for the naked Adam and Eve: when God set about to take
away the terror that went along with the awareness of mortality, of fashioning
what St. Paul called a house not made with hands.
The
“Day” in which we live – our era of consciousness – is still the day of certain
death. But we meet here today, on Sunday, the first day of the week, the first
day of creation, to celebrate the mystical truth that God has changed this Day
of death — the era in which we “will surely
die” — into the day of Resurrection — The Eighth Day of the Week. The EIGHTH
Day of Creation. Now, an ordinary week has seven days, and then the next week
starts over again, in endless cycles. To speak of an Eighth Day of the week is
a paradoxical. And that is the point. The Eighth Day of the Week is a time
outside of time. The day whereon eternity and time overlap.
This
season after Pentecost, the season in which we live, in which the Holy Spirit
fills the world, refers not only to our annual liturgical cycle, but also our
historical era – the time after Pentecost, in which we are called to proclaim
to the ends of the cosmos the Good News that the Reign of God has replaced the
reign of death. In the words of one of our Eucharistic prayers, this Eighth Day
of Creation, this season after Pentecost, is the time in which we are called
"to complete His work of Redemption, and to bring to fulfillment the
sanctification of all."
The
six days of creation correspond — remarkably closely one might add — to the eras
of billions of years from the Big Bang (“let there be light”) until now. The seventh
day, the holy Sabbath, upon which God rested from His labors, corresponds to Holy
Saturday in which the Godman, having bound the “Strong Man” by His Victory on
Calvary, took a little siesta in the House of the strongman — death — whom He
had bound and whose house He had despoiled. Then on Sunday, creation woke up
new. The holy women who “came to the Tomb very early on the first day of the week, before the sun
had risen, while it was yet dark”, encountered at that empty Tomb, not the dawn
of the first day of the week, but the Dawn of what the ancient Fathers and
Mothers of the Church called the Eighth Day of Creation, our Day in which God is
bringing to fulfillment the sanctification of all.
The
good news of this Dawn is too good to be true. Maybe that's the significance of
exorcism — why exorcism was so prominent in the Gospel accounts of Jesus'
ministry. It is not so much individual liberation from demonic possession, in
the sense of that old movie, as it is undoing the mysterious forces that seem
to impel us all to embrace our consciousness of death as the ultimate reality:
in other words, to worship death if it were God. Jesus cast out our fear
because we are naked, our inability to hope that this "day in which we
surely die" is also — at the very same time — the Eighth Day of Creation,
the Day of Resurrection. Satan means “adversary”, the prosecuting attorney, the
little voice inside every single one of us that tells us that death is the end
of our story and that everything else is hokum — wishful thinking. This is what
Jesus – Perfect Love – casts out. Jesus cast out our anxiety: the fear we know
because we are naked.
So,
our Day is no longer only the Day in which we will surely die, it is also the
Day of Resurrection, in which — O Happy
Fault! — our last state is better than our first: we are actually better off
than before the Fall, because death no longer has dominion over us. Our
awareness of the certainty of our own death is overcome by the new awareness
that we will live forever. We need no longer fear because we are naked. Our
fear has been cast out by the incarnate Love of God, Who sews for us new
garments, not made by hands.
Trinity Sunday - 2012 ~ Nicodemus and Birth from Above
We are all born of water, in a flood of water, amniotic fluid.
“Born of water” means natural birth, in which we become individuals – separate
from our mothers.
But to enter the Kingdom of God, we must undergo another
birth: we must be born “from above”, born of the Spirit.
I think this opposition refers to two kinds of consciousness:
individual and personal. I am born, naturally, as a new center of awareness, in
which I appear to myself to be the
center of the world. Everything revolves around Me. In its extreme, known as solipsism, this can
be the view that the entire world is an illusion of my own imagination. This is what Jesus and Paul refer to as
“flesh”. It is not merely our material nature, but the sense of myself as ego.
Flesh = ego.
Spirit, by contrast, is the growing consciousness of
participation in the community of other centers of consciousness. It is not all
about ME. It is about US. This is what Jesus tells Nicodemus is the “birth from
above” that must happen before one can enter the Kingdom of God. Because the Kingdom
of God IS that community of other subjects: the society of individuals-in-the-process-of-becoming-persons.
Now Nicodemus, as an eminent religious teacher himself, ought to have known
this – and he probably did. But the Gospel uses him as a foil for Jesus’s
expression of the basic truth of Being as Communion. Poor Nicodemus is in the dark (he comes “by
night”), but he honestly wants to be enlightened. He doesn’t get it. He thinks
Jesus is speaking literally, as many since him have thought about spiritual
birth, imagining it to be an instantaneous experience, marked by some
extraordinary phenomena, like speaking in tongues. At worst, this misunderstanding of
“spirirtual rebirth” reduces it to a kind of possession of the individual ego:
something “I have”. “Born again” means my own individual relationship with God,
which is pretty close to the opposite of what spiritual birth really means.
But IC doesn’t even say “born again”, but rather “born from
above”. That is a metaphor, I think for being born into the Beloved Community –
the Community of Love, the Community of the Most Holy and Life-giving Trinity, the
Mstery to which this Sunday is dedicated.
As I say constantly, individual
is the opposite of person. Just as
Spirit is the opposite of flesh, not in the sense of immaterial/material, but
in the sense of ego-consciousness opposed to communion-consciousness. The
Kingdom of God IS communion, therefore, it is really a no-brainer to observe
that one cannot enter it unless one has been “born from above ”, because being Born
of the Spirit IS entrance into the Kingdom of God, which is also called the
Communion of the Holy Spirit. This
points us, again, to the Trinity. The Spirit, descending at Pentecost, opens
this Divine Community to all flesh, transfiguring flesh into spirit, beginning
at Jerusalem, that is beginning with human beings. An individual’s spiritual birth is the dawning
awareness that life is not something I
have, but something in which I participate,
along with others, the beginning of the growing awareness that life itself is
communal.
The Church’s ceremonies symbolize this. The newborn is
brought to the font, where she is immersed in water, reënacting – among other
things – her material birth. But at the same time, this bath reënacts the
passage through the Red Sea, from slavery to freedom. From death to life. From
the death that is the inevitable end of life as an individual, to new and
eternal life in the beloved community of persons. This passage is a result of
the activity of the Holy Spirit (God sent a strong East Wind to drive back the
waters, which stood as walls on both sides of them, as the Children of Israel
passed through on dry land. Here, again, is something that a learned Pharisee
might be expected to “get”. ) So, in the Sacrament of Holy Baptism the Church
marks the “birth from above”, of which Jesus speaks to Nicodemus. It is a
birth, in the words of the old rite, “which by nature we cannot have”. Our natural state – our natal state is individual – flesh; the invincible life of the
Spirit comes “from above”, that is, entirely from outside my ego-consciousness.
Baptism is entry into the Church, which represents the Kingdom of God. Baptism
is the beginning of participation and increasing identity in the Beloved
Community. No longer “I” but “We”.
And the “We” includes ta panta, “all flesh”.
Spiritual birth – birth from above – also admits us into a
new relationship with God, who is no longer only the dread Adonai or the majestic but awful God of Hosts, nor the terrifying Lawgiver thundering on Sinai, nor
even the Beneficient Shepherd, leading Joseph like a flock and David beside the
still waters, but ABBA, papa! As Paul
says, it is the Spirit within us that addresses God that way. The Spirit within
US. Not within ME, but within US. Among
us, really.
My Father
in Heaven, Hallowed be your name…Give ME today My daily bread, forgive ME my
sin as I forgive..lead Me not into temptation, but deliver ME from evil.
This horrible parody illustrates, perhaps, the opposition
between flesh and spirit. It’s not all about ME! Flesh would pray “My Father”,
the Spirit – praying even within us little individual egoists – prays “Our
Father”.
The Spirit among us cries ABBA.
And if we do too, it is because we have been so taught by the Son. This word expresses the relationships within
the Community of the Three Divine Persons – the relationship the Son and the Spirit have
to the Father. By teaching us to address God as they do – as ABBA
– the Son invites us to participate in
that Divine Community, the Kingdom of God, and the Spirit gives us the capacity
to do so. The Orthodox refer to Communion as “participation”. Indeed, the
Eucharistic liturgy celebrates our participation in the Life of God. It is not
by chance that, right before Communion, we address God as taught by the Son and
moved by the Spirit: “ABBA – Our Father”.
HOLY, HOLY, HOLY IS THE LORD OF HOSTS
WHO WAS, AND IS, AND IS TO COME
ALLELUIA!
Pentecost May 27, 2012
Pentecost
May 27, 2012
Holy Trinity & St. Anskar
It is to your advantage that I go away, for if I
do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him
to you. When He comes, He will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness
and judgment.
+In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity
Advocate is a legal term meaning
your lawyer, the one who argues on your behalf against the prosecutor, the adversary,
the word for whom in Semitic languages is Satan. So, the Advocate is our defender
against Satan, the accuser.
I
think Satan's accusation amounts to saying that we are fools to believe that
there is any reality beyond what we can see. "What you see is what you
get", and you're an idiot if you believe otherwise. That is the accusation
of the adversary. Our defense is the Spirit who testifies along with us, the
Spirit of Hope.
As
Paul says, hope is about — precisely — that which we do not see. If we could see it, we wouldn’t need to hope
for it. The Advocate is the Spirit of hope, as opposed to the Satan of despair.
The Advocate says to us — to each of us
in the inmost depths of our hearts — that there is something to hope for: something
Unseen. Satan (the ruler of this world) says "what you see is what you
get". Paul says:
For
in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for
what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
In
hope we are saved. that is why, as the Lord tells us today, it is in our advantage
that He should ascend out of our sight, otherwise, we would have no hope, and
there would be no future. For the redeeming work of the Incarnation to be completed,
the Holy Spirit must come into the world. The Spirit of Hope must come to
testify to Christ — to the cosmic sovereignty of Love. But the Spirit CANNOT
come unless Christ goes “to the Father”.
The
Spirit's testimony corroborates our own, but it is independent of our testimony,
and more widespread. The Spirit testifies universally, in fact. Hence, the distinction
between the Spirit's testimony, and our own. We testify "also", because
"we have been with Him from the beginning." That is our inner longing
has impelled us into the Society that lives in His Name. We now live
consciously in that tradition, of which the Godman is the Beginning and the
End, the Alpha and the Omega. But we, who have been with Him "from the
beginning", have not been told everything. Jesus says clearly that He has
things to tell us that we are not able to bear. There are levels of reality and
consciousness that are simply beyond us, right now; but the Advocate will lead
us into all of that. And not us alone. There is no reason to imagine that the
same Advocate is not at work throughout the world — throughout the whole universe,
in fact.
The
Advocate, Jesus says, “ will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness
and judgment: about sin, because they do not believe in me; about righteousness,
because I am going to the Father and you will see me no longer; about judgment,
because the ruler of this world has been condemned.”
1.
Wrong about sin: the mistake is to imagine that sin is anything other
than a failure to love, that sin is the transgression of code of behavior;
while sin really is the despair that thinks Love is not the Ultimate Reality.
What is what — I think — what the Godman means by saying of the
world, "they do not believe in me"
2.
Wrong about righteousness: righteousness is a way of life, a path. The
path to God presumably, the path that Jesus takes to the Father, the "right
path", that the world rejects. "He leads me in the paths of righteousness
for His Name's sake". " The Lord knoweth the way of the righteous in
the way of the ungodly shall perish." Maybe the mistake of the world is also
to imagine that "righteousness" is one unique path. We can testify to
our own path and its righteousness (our hope that it is leading us in the right
direction), but the Spirit testifies to much more, according to the same Gospel
passage.
The Godman says that the world is mistaken about
righteousness, "because I am going to the Father and you will see me no
longer." What can this possibly mean? How does the fact that Jesus has withdrawn
from our immediate sight prove that the world was wrong about righteousness?
This is pretty opaque, but how about this: hope in that which is unseen is a
positive virtue, a state of spiritual consciousness higher than the supposed
"righteousness" of following orders, and higher even than the immediate
association with the Godman in His earthly Incarnation. Insofar as the world
imagines that the right path is the path of certainty, either in following
rules or in the material presence of Jesus, it is a mistake. This mistake is
corrected by Jesus’ disappearance. As long as He was visibly present, there was
no need for hope — in fact no possibility of hope. The Advocate could not come,
Jesus says, as long as Jesus Himself was with us. The Spirit of Hope is given only
after He goes to the Father, after He has taken that “Path of Righteousness”
3.
Wrong about judgment: God's judgment has two sides: condemnation and
vindication. The world is wrong about judgment because it seems to the world
that Jesus has been destroyed while in fact it is the would-be destroyer who
has been destroyed. Jesus is vindicated in that the ruler of this world has
been condemned. That ruler is none other than our old adversary, Satan — the
prosecuting attorney, the spirit of hopelessness who tells us "what you
see is what you get, there is no more, hope is just self deception, and your story
is over when you die." Or – worse – God is going to GET you, when you die
- But that spirit has been condemned by the judgment of God, and the ruler of
this world is cast out, in Jesus’ words, as the Advocate, the Spirit of Hope,
pours into the world. To the hopeless world, wrong about judgment, this Spirit
is a sign of imbecility or intoxication. "They are filled with the new
wine." But to those who accept the Good News proclaimed to them in their
own language, the new Hope is the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy:
`In the last days it will
be, God declares,
that I will pour out my
Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your
daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see
visions,
and your old men shall dream
dreams.
All
flesh. Here is the distinction again between
the particularity of our own tradition and the universality of the testimony of
the Spirit. The Holy Prophet Joel proclaims that God will pour out the Spirit upon
all flesh, and then goes on to say
that — as it were in addition — your
sons and your daughters shall
prophesy, and your young men shall see visions and your old men shall dream dreams. You (we) are going to get the Spirit,
sure enough, but don't think it's only
you, because "I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh."
And
our own sacred tradition clearly places this universal prophecy in the mouth of
Peter, as an explanation of Pentecost.
Now
Pentecost. Looking back, There are three levels of meaning to Pentecost: life renewed,
Torah, and the illapse of the Holy Spirit. I think it may be possible to
connect them with the three ways in which the world gets it wrong.
Originally,
beginning fifty days after Passover, the ancient Hebrews celebrated the feast
of the first fruits of the growing season. The Earth again yields sustenance.
It is time for rejoicing, because God has blessed us with continuing life. This
festival of fertility and renewed life came to be associated with God's
covenant — His deal with humanity through
Moses on Sinai: you obey my commandments, and I will set you up in the promised
land of fertility and prosperity. So the feast of Pentecost became the commemoration
of the giving of the Law on Mount Sinai. The Law is divine guidance in the Way
of Righteousness. But the Law, which is a reliable guide, is not to be confused
with the Lawgiver. The Law, written in stone, must not become a stone idol
which we serve in place of God. God Whom the Holy Apopstle John says IS Love. All the Torah (the Law and the prophets) hang
on the commandments to love, which we have been considering this season:
·
love God and love your neighbor, and
·
it is impossible to love God Whom you have not seen if you love not
your neighbor whom you have seen, and
·
Those who say they love God but hate their neighbors are liars, and
·
The only way we can love God,
in fact, is by loving our neighbors.
That
is the Spirit of the Law, as distinct from the letter written in stone. The
commandments written in stone are gracious, as far as they go. But to imagine
that the whole Path of Righteousness — the entirety of our journey to God — is accomplished
by obeying these commandments is to have a heart of stone. Several places in
holy Scripture we find the metaphor of writing the Law on our hearts. God
promises through The holy prophet Jeremiah that our hearts of stone will be replaced
with hearts of flesh — living flesh upon which the Law of love may be inscribed.
Clearly,
this is the third meaning of Pentecost as recorded in the Acts of the Apostles.
So, in summary,
·
Pentecost is the feast of the first fruits, of the renewal of creation,
Pentecost celebrates the sovereignty of life and love over death, throughout
the cosmos, Pentecost celebrates the hope that Love is stronger than death, the
hope that is the opposite of sin, which would have us believe that death rules,
which is what the world thinks, which is why Jesus says “they are wrong about
sin.”
·
Pentecost is the celebration of the giving of the Law on Sinai, the
opening of the path of righteousness, which the world gets wrong by imagining
that the Way of the Righteous means obeying rules.
·
Pentecost is the Transfiguration of the cosmos by the Holy Spirit,
which is the real meaning of the Judgment of God.
God
pours out the Spirit upon "all flesh", replacing stony hearts with
hearts of flesh, and writing upon them the Law of Love. The illapse of the Holy
Spirit is not confined to the Apostles, or to the baptized (as we heard in our
course-reading of the Acts, two weeks ago). The Spirit goes wherever She wishes.
So now all these Galilean disciples begin to proclaim the Good News of the
Reign of Love in foreign languages. The great miracle of Pentecost is
trivialized by reducing it to glossolalia
— speaking in tongues. The important fact is that all those people from all the
cultures of the earth heard the Good News in a language they could understand.
This
means a lot more, I think, than faithfully translating the terms of our own cultural
tradition into foreign languages. The Spirit of God fills the world. That means
that the Good News becomes intelligible to all peoples and cultures, according
to their own cultural paradigms, religious traditions, habits of thought,
world-views, and so on. We testify to the Reign of Love, according to our own
cultural tradition, but the Spirit of God testifies too, independently of our
testimony.
For
the Spirit is poured out upon all flesh. So we have in Pentecost a progression:
fertility celebration of the first fruits, celebration of the life-giving Law on
Sinai, and the pouring out on all flesh. But that is not the end of the story.
From now on, looking forward from Pentecost, living in the "season after
Pentecost", it is our mission, as the Collect says, to proclaim the Gospel
“to the ends of the earth.” Perhaps that task is larger than the mere the delivery
of a translation of the Good News as we understand it in our own tradition, perhaps
— no, probably — it means the
realization of the Beloved Community of all flesh, upon which — as on this day
— the Holy Spirit has poured Herself, in Jerusalem.
VII Easter May 20, 2012
VII Easter
May 20, 2012
Holy Trinity & St. Anskar
For as in Adam all die, even
so in Christ shall all be made alive.
+In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity
This proclamation is found in one
of the earliest Christian writings: Paul's first letter to the Corinthians.
Almost no one disputes that the Holy Apostle Paul actually wrote these words,
sometime in the middle of the' 50s, the sixth decade of grace. It is the basis
of what came to be known as the "recapitulation theory of the atonement."
Christ is the New Adam. Adam means
dirt, in Hebrew , as human means, in
Latin. Adam means all humanity.
Christ recapitulates Adam in the sense of starting over, from the top, and
getting it right this time.
The Byzantine Easter Troparion,
which I use as a doxology at the end of these Paschaltide homilies, ends with
the phrase "… And bestowing life on those in the tombs." That means
everybody who has died. It does not say "bestowing life on some of those in the tombs," but
simply "on those in the tombs." The only qualification for the
bestowal of life is residence in the tomb. Likewise, the Pascha nostrum, from I
Corinthians, which we use in its full form during Paschaltide in place of
the Agnus dei, says:”… For as in Adam
all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." Not some: all. All shall be made alive in the new
life of perfect, communal love, which is what we mean by life in Christ.
Paul's simile points to an
unmistakable tendency of the early Church to regard salvation as universal. At
a minimum, it means that whatever Christ accomplished for us is not confined to
an exclusive national minority. In other words, though salvation may be
"of the Jews" — as Jesus said to the Samaritan woman at the well — it
is not confined to the descendents of Abraham according to the flesh. That's at
a minimum, a minimalist interpretation. The plain sense of the phrase means
that everybody is freed from death by God's action in Christ.
For
as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.
All. Not some: all. As death is
universal in Adam, so life is universal in Christ. Salvation means health.
Salvation means rescue from the ultimate ill health of death. Salvation has to
be be universal, because death is universal. Human life — life in Adam, which
means life under the yoke of mortality — inevitable decay, death, and
corruption unto nothingness —is replaced by life in Christ. No one is excluded,
not even the most wicked, because "as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."
So what about Judas? What about the
most wicked of men? The exalted rhetoric of Paul's mystical insight is too much
for us. It was too much for many of his own contemporaries, who also
contributed to the New Testament. Clearly, it is possible to exclude oneself
from the happy Company of the all who
shall be made alive. "Judas
turned aside to go to his own place," according to the Acts. Theologians have wrestled with
this ever since. Like the elder brother of the Prodigal Son, Judas preferred to
isolate himself from the conviviality of the Banquet. He preferred "his
own place". Like human life, life in Christ is voluntary, not compulsory.
We can take our own human life, as Judas did. But the universality of the
Victory of the New Adam means that we cannot really kill ourselves.
Thus, the necessity of hell, not as
a prison of everlasting punishment, but as merciful, divine respect for our own
freedom. The Father will not compel his elder son to join the banquet. The door
is open, he is welcome, but the father will not force him to come in. As in
Adam, no one can opt out of death, even so in Christ no one can opt out of
life. But we are free to opt out of
the Banquet, and to isolate ourselves in our own place. Universal salvation in
Christ means, I think, that the door remains open to us forever. We do not have
the capacity to cut ourselves off from God's mercy — to cause the father to
shut and bar the door to the banquet. All we have is the capacity to refuse to
walk through the door, which remains open forever.
Meister Eckhart said, "what
burns in hell are our attachments". As long as I prefer the flesh — that
is my ego, my sense of self as separate from others — I choose not to join the
Banquet. Even God cannot force me. But, because Christ has destroyed death, I
cannot choose not to live. All I can do is to choose to abide in him outer
darkness, where the mythological flames of my voluntary hell — my own place — burn away the attachments
that I prefer to the self-forgetful conviviality of the Banquet.
Alleluia! Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down
death by death,and giving life to all in the tombs. Alleluia!
VI Easter May 13, 2012
VI Easter
May 13, 2012
Holy Trinity & St. Anskar
For as in Adam all die, even
so in Christ shall all be made alive.
+In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity
Today's collect is phrased in a way
that requires careful interpretation, I think. When we ask God to pour into our
hearts love for God, we seem to be asking God to excite feeling toward
himself/it is hard to think of a way to find a corporate or communal meaning to
the word hearts: it seems to be speaking of us as individuals. Our hearts considered as our individual
spiritual centers. It seems to be asking God to set up a bilateral relationship
with each of us, independently of all the rest of the people.
Last week's epistle made it clear
that the love of God is about God's love for us, and that our love for God is
really love for God — whom we have not seen — only insofar as it is love for
our brothers and sisters. The collect goes on to ask that we may love God in
all things and above all things. But if St. John's insight is correct, it is
not possible to love God "above" all of our brothers and sisters — or
even any particular one of them. Our love for them is our love for God. If the collect is asking God to help us
develop that capacity, then that's fine. But our own inner, spiritual life of
adoration can very easily turning into an idolatry of our own imaginings.
As you have probably noticed,
homilies are often structured like a bad-news /good-news joke, and today is an
example. The bad news is that everybody's a sinner; everyone fails to love perfectly.
The good news is that God loves us anyway, our failures do not cause a God to
love us less, and God loves us — every single one of us — so much that He is
getting things ready to delight us in ways that surpass anything we can desire
or imagine. He is going to do this for us, together, all of us and not just for
some of us, as individual exceptions.
There are exceptions, I think:
those who near perfection in love in this life find themselves (according to reports)
in a state of blessedness. The closer their love of brother and sister is too
perfect, self-sacrificing love, the closer they approach the perfect reflection
the divine image. I think this may be what Jesus meant when he said "be
the perfect even as your father in heaven is perfect." These saints,
however, are not removed from the human community. Quite the opposite, they approach
perfection in their love of other people. They're salvation — there wholeness,
their perfection — is not the triumph of her heroic individual, but a
perfection of the image of the communal, Triune God.
Every human being is called to that
perfection. The Easter Troparion, which I use as a doxology at the end of these
Paschaltide homilies, ends with the phrase "… And bestowing life on those
in the tombs." That means all the dead. And the Pascha nostrum, which we use in its full form in place of the Agnus dei in Paschaltide says:”… For as
in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." Not some: all. All shall be made alive in the new
life of perfect, communal love, which is what we mean by life in Christ. I
think salvation has to be universal, because death is universal. Human life —
life in Adam, which means life yoked with the inevitability of decay, death,
and corruption unto nothingness — shall be replaced by life in Christ. No one
is excluded, not even the most wicked, because "as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."
If our Eucharistic celebration is a
foretaste of this heaven, it means that everyone is included. Everyone is
equal, everyone is welcome, everyone is beloved, and not only us human beings,
but all things —ta panta — in which, the collect prays we may grow to love God.
Alleluia! Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down
death by death,and giving life to all in the tombs. Alleluia!
V Easter May 6, 2012
V Easter
May 6, 2012
Holy Trinity & St. Anskar
In this is love, not that we
loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to
be the atoning Sacrifice for our sins.
+In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity
John
the Divine, John the Theologian, John the Beloved Disciple, makes it clear: love is everything. Whoever loves is born of God and knows God.
He also makes it clear that he is talking not about our love for God, but
our love for one another. Not that we loved
God, but that God loved us. He doesn't even mention our love for God until
the very end of the passage:
… those who love God must love their brothers and
sisters also.
I take this not as a description of duty —
those who love God are obliged to love their brothers and sisters also — but as
a simple statement of fact if somebody loves God it must mean that they love
their brothers and sisters also, because without love of neighbor, there is no
love of God.
Jesus
said, The second commandment, to Love our neighbor as ourself, is like the first. This means that it is equal to the first — it is the same as the first.
Whoever says he loves God but does not love brother or sister is a
liar.
John
knows nothing about our love of God, except in our love of our brothers and sisters.
There is in fact no such thing as human love of God except in our love of one another.
So,
we have to understand today's Collect carefully :
Almighty God, whom truly to know is everlasting life: grant us so perfectly to know your Son Jesus Christ to be
the Way, the Truth, and the Life, that we may steadfastly follow His steps in
the way that leads to eternal life
Truly
to know God is everlasting life. But
It is too easy to think of this as a matter of believing the right things about
Jesus in order to get the reward of everlasting life as a result of our
knowledge. St. John makes it clear that true knowledge of God is found in love
— love of our neighbor. With that interpretive key, the petition "to know
your Son Jesus Christ to be the Way the Truth and the Life" and
"steadfastly follow His steps in the way that leads to eternal life" must be understood as a prayer to follow His
commandment to love one another as He has loved us, which means without limit,
even unto death. The footsteps of Christ lead to Calvary.
John
goes on to talk about the "atoning sacrifice" of Christ:
… not that we loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the
atoning sacrifice for our sins…
As
you know, I think there is a big problem with the notion of atonement or expiation,
as bequeathed by the Middle Ages to Western Christianity — both Catholic and
Protestant. As Timothy W are, now the Metropolitan Kallistos, asked packed
house at the Greek Cathedral in Oakland a couple of years ago "to whom
would such a price be paid"? So, I looked up the passage and, as usual,
found something interesting. The verb translated as "atoning sacrifice"
is related to the word for mercy: as in Kyrie
eleison. One form of this word is
the name for the covering of the Ark of the Covenant, the "Mercy
Seat". On the Day of Atonement, this covering was sprinkled with sacrificial
blood, changing it from the Seat of Judgment to the Seat of Mercy. Clearly, the
Blood of Christ is the propitiation
for our sins, in the language of the religious imagination of Temple worship
him. St. John, however, enlarges that imagination.
Our
sins are our failures to love one another. God is not mad at us for that, and
we don't have to do anything to appease God. The "atoning sacrifice"
is not something we do for God, but something God does for us. The Sacrifice of
Christ cancels our failures to love, absorbing them, or — better yet — filling
up our lack of love with the love of God.
Not that we loved God but that he loved us. This perfection of what is
lacking in our love for one another also makes it possible for us to love one
another.
Beloved, as since God loved us so much, we also ought
to love one another.
Hear the word ought
does carry the sense of an obligation. We are obliged to love one another because
God loves us; but if God's sacrificial love for us imposes an obligation on us,
it also confers at the same time the capacity
to fulfill it. The Cross — the new Mercy Seat — is the expiation of our sins in
that the Cross perfects human nature:
No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God
lives in us, and His love is perfected in us.
The
perfection of divine love in us — in our love for one another — is not just the
way to eternal life: it is eternal life and the knowledge of
God.
Whoever loves is born of God and knows God
Whoever!
Think of it! And consider it along with that mysterious little announcement in
last week's Gospel:
I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I
must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice.
We
do not know who those other sheep are, but it is safe to say that they are not
to be found among those who say the correct things about Jesus' Identity. They
are, after all, "not of this fold". What we do know is that
Love is from God; whoever loves is born of God and knows God.
Alleluia! Christ is risen from the
dead, trampling down death by death,and giving life to all in the tombs.
Alleluia!
IV Easter April 29, 2012
IV Easter
April 29, 2012
Holy Trinity & St. Anskar
There is no other Name under
heaven by which we must be saved.
+In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity
“Name”
and “saved”. The thread running through today's propers is the idea of the "name",
which Peter links to “salvation”. This can cause unnecessary trouble. These two
words, need to be unpacked.
·
The Collect describes the good Shepherd as the one
who "calls us each by name,"
and prays that we may "follow where He leads".
·
The religious authorities, having arrested Peter, ask
him by what "name" he has done what he has done (openly proclaiming
the Resurrection, and healing a cripple).
·
Everybody's favorite Psalm, arguably the world's
best-known poem, sings about leading us in the right path for the sake of His Name.
·
The Epistle tells us this "… this is His
commandment, that we should believe in the Name
of His Son Jesus Christ and love one another…"
·
And finally, in the Gospel, our Lord speaks of
knowing His sheep and the sheep knowing Him, echoing what He said earlier, in a
part of this passage that we did not read, where He describes the Good Shepherd
as the One Who : "… calls His own sheep by name and leads them…"
Which
brings us right back to the Collect. If we are the Good Shepherd’s sheep, He knows
our names — our personal names. That means he knows everything about us. That
is the significance of the word, "name". It is shorthand for a person's
identity, especially public identity — how the person is known in public, the
person's reputation.
The
same is true of the Name of Jesus. It is shorthand for everything that is known
about Him — and maybe everything that is not known, as well.
·
All the stories that were circulating about His healings and exorcisms,
·
His teaching about love and forgiveness, His condemnation of mercilessness
and moral hypocrisy and the love of money,
·
His solicitude for the poor and
the despised, and above all,
·
His defeat of death by His own self-sacrifice on Calvary: all of these
mighty acts are contained in His Name, which, Peter says, "saves" us.
But
there is more: because His Name refers to His whole Identity, the Holy Name of
Jesus also refers to Emmanuel, God-with-us. In other words, it refers
to him to that which we can never know, but only adore: the perfect union of
infinite divinity with finite humanity, in one single Person, named Jesus — Yeshayahu — which means, literally, "God
saves."
In
our course reading of the Acts of the Apostles, we didn't hear the first part
of the story, in which Peter had healed a disabled man. That is, Peter had
restored him to health, made him whole. When he says to the court of temple officials
that
"there is no other Name under heaven by which we must be saved"
he is talking about healing. The root meaning
of "salvation" is "healing". We are used to the convention
that "salvation in the Name of Jesus” means that the Name of Jesus is our
ticket to heaven after we die. But, as Peter's explanation of the healing
miracle suggests, it really means that health and wholeness is found in the
Name of Jesus. We hope and trust that this new wholeness includes our personal
survival of biological death, but the Name is neither a magic formula, which,
if uttered, will cure the sick, nor a password to get us into heaven. The Name
of Jesus is His reputation, His story, His "narrative", as it is currently
fashionable to say. The word, Jesus, means “God saves”. That Is Jesus’ identity: God's
saving act, and that means healing. The restoration of wholeness. We are so
used to thinking of "being saved" as being rescued from something
unpleasant (such as being fried eternally in the flames of hell) that this root
meaning of salvation as perfect health can be obscure.
The
religious authorities ask Peter to explain how he was able to restore the disabled
man to wholeness, by what authority, by what name. His answer is: "in the
Name of Jesus". When he says that the only name given under heaven by
which we must be saved is the Name
of Jesus, it is in the context of this question about healing. As the disabled man was "saved" by the Holy
Name, so are we. We too are healed, made a whole. Now, the first-person plural
— we — is a little bit ambiguous here.
It can mean every one of us severally, as individuals, but it can also mean all
of us together, which is what I believe it actually does mean. The healing of
that man in Jerusalem was a sign of collective healing. "The Name by which
we must be saved" is the Name
that saves us all, together. Salvation is corporate, not individual. We are
saved as individuals by being cured of our individuality. Salvation — wholeness — is communal. Salvation is
moving out of individual life into inter-personal life; salvation is
Participation in the Community of salvation, which is to say Communion with the
Inter-personal Deity.
By
itself, the fact of the fortunate man's restoration to individual wholeness in
his own body, is not of much importance, except to himself — probably not
important enough to attract the attention of the religious authorities. It
would have been a curiosity, but not an occasion for a summit conference. Perhaps
the fact that they did take an
interest signifies that healing (salvation) has ramifications for the whole
society. They noticed healing because it was publicly linked to the Name of
Jesus. The Name of Jesus displays the power of God making all creation whole —healing
all that ails the community of God's creatures.
God certainly can repair the disfiguration of the disabled individual.
But that restoration to wholeness — that salvation — is really significant as a
microcosm of the salvation of the whole disfigured creation, our restoration to
the common life intended by God in the first place: communal salvation in the
Name of the only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ. The Church is the beginning of that
common life, and it is the Church that proclaims the Name and live in the Name.
In
the Epistle, the beloved disciple John tells us that God's commandment is "…
that we should believe in the Name of
His Son Jesus Christ and love one another…" To believe in the Name of
Jesus is to trust the Church's story about Jesus, as summarized by Peter. To do
anything in His Name, means to act on
the basis of that story. To live in His
Name is to make that story the center of our own personal consciousness.
This
But it doesn't end there, because life in
His Name is life together.
Salvation in the Name of Jesus is the healing of our separation from one
another, growing out of the illusion
that there is such a thing as "individual life", and the growing into the sense that we are all beloved
members of one Cosmic Organism, which we call His Body. In short, to believe in
— to live in — the Name of Jesus, is to love one another.
The
Good Shepherd knows each of us as individuals, and calls us by our individual
name. He calls us by our names. By myself, I have no name. I get my name from
others. My name is how others know me. My name is a sign of relationship — of
personhood, as opposed to individuality. The Good Shepherd not only calls us by
our name, but also, for the sake of His
Name, He leads us in the right paths.
He leads us as a flock, not as individuals. In fact, He leads us, by
our personal names, away from our
natural condition of individual separation from one another and into the
"right Path" of communal being, beside the still waters of trust in His
Name , making us to lie down in the green pastures of love for one another —
love for all the other name-bearers, whose names are know him to Him, Who also
prepares for us a table — the Eucharistic table — in defiance of death, Who
anoints us with healing oil and our cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy
shall follow us all the days of our life, as He leads us — together —
to dwell — also together — in the House of the Lord, forever.
Alleluia! Christ is risen from the
dead, tramplingdown death by death,and giving life to all in the tombs.
Alleluia!