Sunday, June 6, 2021

A piece of the weight of glory: June 6, 2021

(This will be my last post until Aug 16th as I am leaving for sabbatical.)

 Year B Pentecost 2                                                 2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1                                                                             

This may shock some of you, but camping is not my thing. I like the idea of camping, but not the actual sleeping on the ground part. I blame my dislike of camping on some early childhood experiences.  You see my family was never big into preparation—like checking weather. One of my earliest memories was when we lived in Belgium.  For some reason we decided to go camping right before a huge storm.  All 6 of us were in one tent, which was not nearly strong enough for the rain and the wind.  My dad and oldest brother held the tent up while the rest of us slept. I was only 4 or 5 at the time and didn’t recognize how hard that must have been for them.  I just remember waking up periodically in the night, seeing them, and having no doubt that we would be safe. 

Photo by Jarhead Core

            Paul used the image of the tent when talking about our earthly existence.  It’s not surprising that he used this image since he was a tent maker.  He was probably intimately aware of the usefulness of a tent, while also mindful of its limitations.  A tent was never meant to be a permanent home, much like our earthly bodies are not meant to be a permanent home.   

In this letter to the Corinthians, Paul was attempting explain to the Corinthians why we can’t use human standards when trying to determine the success of the Gospel of Jesus Christ or our success as disciples. In the first part of the letter, he spent a lot of time defending himself and his suitability as a leader. 

Since his first visit, the people of Corinth had been wooed by false prophets---ones who spoke more articulately, looked more powerful and performed numerous miracles.  These prophets also told the people of Corinth what they wanted to hear. Paul wasn’t impressive in speech or appearance and he never told people what they wanted to hear. It was usually quite the opposite.  Therefore it is understandable that the people of Corinth had wandered off the path.

As a result, Paul had the rather Herculean task of convincing these people that suffering and hardship wasn’t a sign of failure or weakness---it might even indicate you are doing things right.  Suffering was and is inevitable when following a crucified Messiah.

To make his point, Paul contrasted our outer natures and our inner natures.    When Paul referred to our outer nature, it was more than just our bodies.  It’s all that is ephemeral—all that is passing. That includes our bodies, our minds, our social networks, our homes, our victories and our defeats.  It’s everything that is seen.  The inner nature is the new life we experience when we come into a relationship with God. 

We might assume that when Paul refers to our inner nature, he is talking about the afterlife, but that is not the case. He is clearly describing the present when he writes, “Our inner nature is being renewed day by day.”  That inner nature is what gives us the strength to handle what is happening all around us—what is happening to our outer nature.

He then wrote, For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen…” I found myself quite enraptured by the phrase “eternal weight of glory.”  I always associated that phrase with heaven and eternal life.  But if we have an inner nature that is being renewed day by day ---right now, we must therefore have a portion of that weight of glory right now as well.  It’s not the eternal weight of glory, but it is glory none the less. 

But what is the weight of glory? It is the thumb print of God on our souls.  It is the part of us that cannot be touched by all the stuff that life throws at us.  It’s the weight that holds our tent upright.  So even when our tent is falling apart, even when the world seems to be falling apart, we do not lose heart.

As Christians, we live in this in-between place.  We are in a place where our bodies limit us yet our hope remains in that which is limitless.  Right now our bodies are fragile and not meant to last forever.  Most of us have seen evidence of that in our own health.  But it’s not just our bodies that our fragile, it’s our whole world. 

The fragility of our world has been abundantly clear over the last year.  Most of the things that we took for granted were compromised by a virus.  Entire industries and governments were brought to their knees. Even those things we hold sacred, our houses of worship and our families were separated from us. We lost people who were incredibly important to us and some were denied the opportunity to mourn in our Holy spaces.  Yet, we do not lose heart, because we carry (right now) the weight of glory.

That is what Paul had that the false prophets could never convey, a faith that no matter how bad things get, pain and suffering never has the final word, not when you are grounded by the weight of glory.

We have a tradition at the Annual Council of our diocese where we read memorials for people who have died who were active in the diocese, whether as clergy or lay people.  After the names and stories were read, we would have a moment of silence and then our previous bishop would say, “May they rise in glory.” I always liked that phrase.  It sounds triumphant. Here on earth the weight of glory steadies us.  It gives us a strength that only God can give.  But when we die, then that glory allows us to rise into a new life with Christ. 

As Christians, we are in an in-between place and sometimes that feels precarious and exhausting.  Yet God doesn’t abandon us in this in between world.  He gives us something, something that never decays, never wastes away.  He gives us an inner nature that is being renewed day by day and a weight of glory that holds us up so we can stand against even the greatest and most unexpected storms.  Today, may we all stand with the weight of glory holding us up.  One day, may we all rise with the eternal glory of Christ.

 

Tuesday, June 1, 2021

Marked as Christ's Own: May 30th 2021

 Year B, Trinity Sunday                                                    Romans 8:12-17                                                                      


One of the parts of my job I have always enjoyed is talking with parents and Godparents before a baptism. It’s one of my few opportunities to talk to people in a small group about the very basic tenets of our faith.  What I typically do is walk them through the liturgy itself as pretty much everything we believe about baptism is in the words of the service itself.   I usually end by admitting that while there are many prayers and words in the baptismal service, you could, if you really needed to, skip them all and simply say, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” I always feel a bit sheepish admitting this, as if I have just pulled a fast one over on the family.  Yet as I reflected on that particular line this week, in anticipation of Trinity Sunday, it had a different effect on me. 

I rarely preach on the Trinity.  Most preaching professors warn their students not to try to preach the Trinity.  It gets too complicated and almost any explanation of the Trinity ends up being labeled as heretical.   Trinity Sunday is one of the few feast days that celebrates a doctrine rather than an event, which means it’s kind of easy to ignore, because who wants to celebrate doctrine?  But it’s more than just doctrine.  And it’s more than an elaborate cliff note to our baptismal liturgy.

Over 10 years ago, a book called “The Shack” was written. The Shack wasn’t a perfect book, but there was one thing I really loved about that book. It brought the Trinity alive in a way I had never experienced before. It made me want to hang out with every member of the Trinity....live with the Trinity.  Intellectually I knew what the Trinity was. I am not saying I have ever claimed to understand it, but I had the working definition.  Yet this book made me want to have a relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And at its very essence, that is what the Trinity is about—relationship—their relationship with one another and our relationship with the triune God.

Paul had a unique relationship with God, different than the disciples who had actually met Jesus in the flesh.  Jesus spoke to Paul after his Ascension into heaven which is what led Paul to transforming his life.  He went from persecuting Christians to becoming one of the greatest Christian theologians and evangelists of all time.  This is amazing when you consider he never met Jesus. His experience with Jesus was limited to a bright light and a voice from heaven. It was over in a few minutes. 

The fact that Paul was able to address God as “Abba” (which is essentially Daddy) is remarkable because it means he had an intimate relationship with God.  In his Letter to the Romans he wrote, “When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God…”  Consider that moment when a child (or maybe an adult) calls out to a parent after having a nightmare.  It’s a moment of desperation and instinct, when you call on the person you know will always protect you, always come to you. That was Paul’s relationship with God.  His relationship wasn’t merely lovely prayers and exquisite theological arguments.  It was made up of cries in the night to the one he knew was listening. 

That is the relationship we are all meant to have with God—the kind of relationship we can’t always define but also can’t live without.  I believe that at our very base level almost all humans have personal relationship with God.  Even when self-proclaimed atheists are desperate, they call out to God.  Some might consider that insincere, maybe even delusional, but I think it’s proof that we are (at our very core) God’s children-- even those of us who don’t believe in him are still God’s children.

I have to admit that I have never dwelled on this part of this passage, because I am always a little uncomfortable when people pray to God as Daddy or Mommy.  Perhaps it’s because I am accustomed to the formality of the Episcopal Church, but it just seems unnatural to me.  Yet what struck me this time was the astonishing fact that this was Paul calling God Daddy.  Paul was not the warm and fuzzy type. He had been a Pharisee, a keeper of the rules. He followed the letter of the law. I am not saying his faith was insincere.  It was very sincere.  But before he heard the voice of Jesus, he definitely wasn’t calling God Daddy.  In fact, before Jesus came to the earth and embodied God, Jews were not even able to say the name of God.  Even when writing the name of God, they would leave the vowels out because to say or write the name of God was forbidden.  Yet here Paul is telling the Romans that as children of God, we call God Abba. 

This wasn’t Paul merely repeating church doctrine.  His letter to the Romans was written before the Gospels were written.  Surely he had been taught about Jesus, but it’s clear that he wasn’t merely repeating something someone told him.  He knew God intimately.  And if a Pharisee who once persecuted Christians can know God this well, then we all can.  Paul wasn’t trying to explain the Trinity here, but he was showing what it is to be in a relationship with God.

We have a baptism at the later service…which is a very appropriate thing to do on Trinity Sunday, not merely because we baptize the child in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, but because we are blessing a relationship. Our catechism says that in baptism we are adopted as God’s children and made members of Christ’s body, the church. 

We are all born to a human family. Some of us are adopted into a human family. But every single one of us has the opportunity to be adopted into God’s family.  That family is far from perfect, but it is enveloped in God’s perfect and unconditional love.  My very favorite part of the baptismal service is the end where the priest makes the sign of the cross on the forehead of the baptismal candidate with oil and says, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”  The oil will wash off, but God’s promise will be with that child of God for all time. 

All of you who are baptized in the name of the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit are marked as Christ’s own forever.  And once you are marked, you can never escape God’s tenacious love. He will find you wherever you go.  Even in your darkest time when you are certain God is nowhere near, I encourage you to touch your forehead, make the sign of the cross and remember what it is to be sealed by the Holy Spirit. Remember what it is to know God and be known by him.