Just keep going.

A sermon on Hebrews 11:24-26, 32-12:2 and John 1:43-51. Delivered at Christ the Savior Church, Southbury CT on the first Sunday of Lent, 2018.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
Today St. Paul says to us, “lay aside every weight, and the sin that so easily ensnares us, and run with endurance the race that is set before us”
Run the race that is set before us.
When you think about a race, what do you picture in your mind?
Maybe an athlete, sleek, fit and hearty, crossing the finish line, arms back, chest forward, as the crowd roars.
Or if you are a fan of the Winter Olympics which have been going on recently, maybe you picture a skier crossing the line to achieve a winning time,
Or a speed skater stretching out her foot to record a time just a fraction ahead of the competition.
When I think about races, I think about winners and losers.
There is the victor, the gold medal winner, the best…and then there are the rest.
The silver medal winner, the bronze medal winner, and of course the saddest finish in the Olympics, fourth place.
You are the fourth best in the world at some incredibly demanding sport, and what do you walk away with?
Nothing.
Races are almost always about winners and losers.
Who’s the winner, and who’s the loser?
Who goes home with the gold medal in glory, and who goes home with nothing?
That’s kind of scary, isn’t it?
At least it is scary to me, because I don’t like to lose.
In fact I HATE to lose.
Some members of my extended family are really into playing cards.
We’re not talking you basic “Go fish” kinds of card games, I mean the really complex kinds of card games,
With tricks and partners, and all of this strategy were you count the cards that have been played down, and you’re expected to know what your partner is doing based on what cards she plays down.
I’ve tried these games a few times, but every time it ends in frustration, because everyone is SO much better than I am.
So, when people sit down to play these games, I usually find something else to do.
If I don’t think I stand a very good chance of winning, why should I play the game?
If someone asks me to run a race, and I don’t think there’s a very good chance that I’m going to win,
I might say, “I’m sorry, but I’m just not good enough. I could never do that. I’m not even going to try.”
Now aside from card games, people don’t really ask me to run races, or compete in Olympic events.
But we are almost always being pushed outside of our comfort zone.
Just about every day we are asked to do things that we aren’t very good at.
Think about the last time you had some really big job to do.
A hard assignment at school, or a major project at home, or something really important to do at work.
It can feel like I have this immense weight on my shoulders, a weight that I simply cannot carry, so I’m tempted to say,
“There’s just no way that I’m going to be able to do all of this. I’m not even going to try.”
And then I just try to ignore it.
Or think about the last time someone was upset with you or angry with you.
I don’t like it when people are angry with me, and when it happens, I’m tempted to say,
“Oh no, I can’t deal with this. I just can’t deal with this person’s anger. I’m not even going to try.”
Or maybe someone is suffering and needs help. Someone is grieving or ill.
It can be frightening to be around someone who is in a lot of pain or anguish, so I might be tempted to say,
“I can’t solve their problems, I can’t fix all of that. And I certainly can’t bear all of that pain and suffering, so why should I even try?”
In our Christian life, we are often faced with situations like these.
We know that Christ commands us to love God and love our neighbor,
We know that Christ commands us to respond to anger with love and to care for the suffering,
but this is so hard…and I am so weak.
How can I possibly succeed? Maybe I shouldn’t try at all?
I know someone who, as a kid in elementary school, decided that he was going to audition for a role in the high-school play.
It was a play with a few roles for younger kids, and he knew this play really well.
So, he went to the audition, which was held at the high school.
There were all these big kids there…remember how big high-schoolers looked when you were in elementary school?
All these high school kids were excited and they all knew each other, and were talking about all the shows they had done together.
They were singing, and practicing, and the longer the kid sat there, the more nervous he got.
He listened to the big high-schoolers, how well they could sing, and how confident they were,
And he thought, “I don’t think I can do this. I’m not good enough for this.”
So, he left. He just got up and walked out.
Now this happened a long time ago, but this experience still haunts him.
He says, “If I had auditioned and not got a part, I might have felt bad for a day or two. But not even trying. Walking out of that room without even trying, that kind of guilt can last a lifetime.”
And guilt is the devil’s ultimate weapon, like deadly, radioactive fallout from a nuclear explosion.
Sure, we all make mistakes, we all make bad decisions.
And sometimes that results in a kind of personal explosion.
But the guilt that comes after, that is like radioactive fallout.
I might have survived the initial blast of my mistake, but the poison of guilt is what can really destroy the soul.
Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ comes into this world to destroy sin and death through divine forgiveness.
Guilt is destroyed by the love, and mercy and forgiveness of God.
Receiving God’s forgiveness is not merely being “let off the hook” for something we have done wrong.
God’s forgiveness is about receiving the courage to get up off of the ground and keep going.
Christ doesn’t make the world a perfect place where we never make mistakes.
Christ makes it possible for us to carry on when it might seem like we should give up.
So, when St. Paul says, “lay aside every weight, and the sin and guilt that weighs us down, and run with endurance the race that is set before us”
What exactly is that race? Where does it go?
This race is not laps in a stadium, or down a mountain, or along some track.
To run the race set before us is to follow Christ to the Cross.
To run the race set before us is to take up our Cross and follow Christ.
Now, certainly, we would say that Jesus was victorious in THIS race, right?
Jesus was victorious in running the race set before him.
But HOW was He victorious?
Did Jesus bask in the glory of shouts and applause of adoring spectators? No. Christ was victorious when the people jeered and mocked him.
Did Jesus puff out his chest and hold his arms high as he crossed the finish line? No. Christ was victorious when His arms were stretched out and nailed to the Cross, and his chest heaved as he struggled for breath.
Did Jesus stand with pride on the tall, middle step to receive his gold medal? No. Christ was victorious when he was crucified between two thieves at the top of Golgotha.
Christ’s victory in death is a victory of faith.
Today we celebrate the restoration of the icons in the Church.
For close to two centuries there had been a brutal bloody conflict, and many people said that it was wrong to make icons of Christ and the saints.
But on this day, some thirteen hundred years ago, the icons were gloriously returned to the Church,
And it was declared that it is good and right to make and venerate icons.
But to defend the holy icons is not just to defend religious art.
We claim that Jesus Christ is perfect God and Perfect man, and that he was tempted and suffered in all the same ways that we are tempted and suffer.
And all the holy icons take their meaning from the one fundamental icon, the icon of the Crucifixion.
For Jesus’ victory is the victory of the Cross.
Jesus’ victory is faithful obedience to His Heavenly Father to the very end.
This victory is the resurrection on the Third Day.
And today Christ’s victory is our victory.
Today we see Nathaniel talking with his friend Philip.
Philip has met Jesus, Philip is excited, and he says to Nathaniel, “We’ve found him, the Messiah, the one promised by Moses and the Prophets!”
But Nathaniel is anything but enthusiastic. He says, “Jesus? From Nazareth? Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
Maybe Nathaniel is worn out from looking, and waiting. Maybe his hopes have been dashed before, and he just doesn’t want to get burned.
But, here is the first miracle. Philip says, “Nathaniel, come and see, just come and see.”
Nathaniel could have said, sorry, I’d rather not.
But, even though he’s less than enthusiastic, the miracle is that he takes the next step. He goes to see Jesus.
Then, as Jesus sees Nathaniel coming, he says, “Behold and Israelite in whom there is no guile.”
And Nathanael asks, “Rabbi, how do you know me?”
Jesus says, “When you were under the fig tree, I saw you.”
So what was going on with Nathaniel under that fig tree?
Well, we don’t know.
But maybe, just maybe, Nathaniel had made a mistake, and maybe it was a big one.
And maybe Nathaniel stood under that fig tree and thought, “I’m sorry, but I’m just not good enough. I can’t keep going. I’m not even going to try”
But what if, in that moment under the fig tree, something had moved Nathaniel;
what if it was in that moment under the fig tree when he said, “I don’t know how Lord, but I’m just going to take the next step.”
If this is what happened, it would explain why Nathaniel says to Jesus, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”
Because Nathaniel knew that it was God who gave him the strength to keep running the race.
And those steps brought him face to face with Jesus Christ.
Our God is a God who strengthens us to take one step at a time.
Today St. Paul says, “lay aside every weight, and the sin and guild that that so weighs us down, and run with endurance the race that is set before us”
This race is not about going faster than someone else.
This race is not about reaching the finish line before someone else.
This race is not about doing the most difficult performance with no mistakes.
Christ has already won the race, He has already received the victory.
The race set before US is to follow Christ and share in HIS victory; His victory of humility, love, and faith.
St. Paul says, run with endurance, which means, “Just keep going.”
In this race, we are not disqualified if we fall down.
In this race, we are not eliminated if we stray from the course.
In this race we do not lose style points for awkward landings, or crash landings.
In this race, we simply keep going, one step at a time, one day at a time.
When we fall, we get up.
And when we fall and don’t have the strength to stand, Christ comes to us and lifts us up, and carries us until we are able to take the next step.
Our Lenten journey, and in fact our entire life, is a pilgrimage, a pilgrimage to our Lord’s Holy Pascha.
In a pilgrimage, the only thing that matters is that you keep going.
Pilgrims don’t come in first or second.
Pilgrims don’t get medals.
A pilgrim wins whenever she arrives.
And this is why we never go on pilgrimage alone.
This is why Christ sends his apostles out two by two, so no matter how difficult the path may become, we always have someone to lend a hand,
and so that we are always there to assist our brothers or sisters when they might stumble.
Today, lay aside every weight, and the sin and guilt that so easily ensnares us, and run with endurance the race that is set before us.
Today we take one more step on our pilgrimage to the Cross of Christ, to share in the victory of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Amen.

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Take the Fight to the Enemy

A sermon on Ephesians 6.10-17 and Luke 17.12-19. Delivered at Christ the Savior Church, Southbury CT, on December 10, 2017.

Today Jesus enters a village and we see a group of men standing off at a distance.

But something isn’t right.

Many of them have their heads and faces covered, none of them are dressed well.

Some can barely stand, and some have stained rags wrapped tightly around their arms or legs.

These men are not well, and they keep their distance for a good reason.

They suffer from leprosy, a horrible deadly disease.

Leprosy is contagious, and in Jesus’ day there was no cure.

So if you caught leprosy, you were pretty much as good as dead.

Your family, your village, your friends and neighbors, would cast you out and cut you off.

And you would be forced to live out the rest of your days as an outsider, a loner, living on the fringes of society.

Lepers could see their homes, their family, their friends, their village, or their city,

But they were forbidden to have any direct contact.

Maybe you could speak with someone, by yelling from a distance. But you could never speak face to face.

People could leave food and supplies for you, but could never shake their hands, or give them a hug.

Major events might happen in the village, weddings, festivals, celebrations, and you might see all of this happening from afar,

But you would never be invited to the party.

It is horrible to see people nearby but to feel totally alone.

Do you ever feel alone?

Does it ever feel like you have been cast out by the people you love?

Do you ever feel ignored, or abandoned?

It is surprising how easy it is to feel like this, even when there are people all around us.

Now imagine for a moment, that a soldier says that he feels desperately lonely.

A soldier, in the middle of a war, with bombs falling, and bullets flying,

This person is surrounded by other soldiers: some friendly some hostile.

If a soldier in the middle of war said, “I feel so alone, so far from the people I love, like I’ve been totally abandoned.”

Would you be surprised?

I wouldn’t be surprised at all.

I’ve never been asked to bear the cross of going to war, and God bless those who have to bear that cross,

But if I was in the middle of a war, I’m sure I’d feel exactly like that: alone, unloved and totally abandoned.

Well, today St. Paul reminds us that we ARE in a war.

He reminds us that we are smack dab in the middle of a fierce battle, a violent deadly war.

It is not a war against flesh and blood human beings. It is not a war against people.

It is not a war that is fought with metal swords and spears or bullets and bombs.

No, the war that we are fighting right now is a spiritual warfare,

against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age,

against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.

Demonic forces doing everything in their power to divide and conquer.

Wielding every tool of Satan to lead men and women to fight against one another.

And how do those hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places attack us?

They attack us in our hearts and minds.

If a stranger asks me for money, what is the first thing that goes through my mind? “Ugh…please don’t bother me. I’d really prefer that you got a job and just leave me alone.”

Where does that come from? Is sure doesn’t come from God.

If someone does something unkind to me, or if they do something that really wastes my time, or hurts my feelings, what is my first instinct? “You no good fool! I’m going to give you a taste of my wrath and you will do exactly what I want, NOW!”

Where does that come from? It certainly is not from our Lord Jesus Christ.

If something doesn’t work, and I realize that it’s because I made a mistake, or missed a deadline, or forgot something important, what do I say to myself, “You stupid idiot. You messed up again. See, you’re such a loser.”

Where does that come from? Definitely not from the Holy Spirit.

No, these thoughts and ideas are the fiery darts of the evil one, craftily directed against us: this is the spiritual warfare.

And it rages around us, and within us, ALL…THE…TIME.

Today St. Paul says to us, “be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Put on the armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.”

Because every one of us has been drafted to fight this war.

From the moment the exorcism prayers were prayed for us at our baptism, we have been newly enlisted warriors of Christ.

St. Paul says, “Stand up, it is time to move out.”

But unlike earthly armies, where the generals and kings and politicians stay in nice safe places, and send their sons and daughters to suffer and die,

Our King leads the charge; he marches at the very front of his army, Christ is the first to face the attacks of the enemy.

This is the great mystery of the Incarnation, and the miracle of Christmas, that God no longer stands apart from us.

God is no longer a stranger to us to and to creation.

God takes flesh, and becomes a human being, the Son of God becomes the son of the Virgin Mary, the Theotokos.

And as perfect God and perfect man Jesus shows how to fight, and be victorious, in the spiritual warfare.

When Judas offers betrayal, Jesus responds with gentleness.

When Peter offers denial, Jesus responds with faithfulness.

When the people he came to save offer mockery, Jesus responds with humility.

When Pilate offers an unjust condemnation, Jesus responds with truth.

When humanity offers suffering, torture and death, Jesus responds with forgiveness.

Because Jesus did not come into the world to fight against Judas, or Peter, or Pharisees, or Pilate, or the soldiers or you or me.

Jesus Christ comes into the world to fight the spiritual warfare against the spiritual powers of wickedness.

So, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ responds to all those hateful, unjust, selfish hurting, furious, bitter, angry, vengeful flesh and blood PEOPLE,

with love…and mercy…and forgiveness.

By offering his life as in the perfect act of love, Christ CRUSHES the powers of evil.

This is why St. Paul says to us, “take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand evil and be victorious.

Stand up soldier, put on your body armor of truth and righteousness,

To protect your feet on the long journey, wear the shoes of the gospel of peace;

above all, carry the shield of faith which is invincible against the fiery darts of the evil one.

Put on the helmet of salvation, and always, always carry the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

We fight the spiritual warfare as Christ does, by showing God’s love to others.

By showing mercy to real-life flesh and blood people, we are victorious in the spiritual warfare,

Or rather Christ is victorious in us.

The victory of Christ is the victory of love over loneliness and division, and death.

These days I often think of our old friend Ebeneezer Scrooge.

At the beginning of the story, he is so bitter, so angry, so hard and cruel.

When men ask him to give money to help the poor, Scrooge responds,

“Are there no prisons? Are there no work programs? No shelters? Leave me alone. I don’t celebrate Christmas and I can’t afford to help lazy people celebrate. I pay enough in taxes to support the government programs. If people are in need, let them go there”

And the men say, “But many can’t go there, and many would rather die than be in those awful places.”

And Scrooge says, “If they would rather die, they had better do it and decrease the surplus population.”

Harsh words from a harsh and bitter man.

But Scrooge, like so many of us, is also very much alone.

As the story unfolds we see that as a young boy Scrooge suffered deep personal tragedies and sorrows.

We see a man who is deeply wounded, suffering from so much pain in the depth of his heart.

And then, by God’s grace, he is healed of that spiritual leprosy, that slow rot of the human soul.

And on Christmas day he awakes to the world a new man, a changed man, a humble and joyful man.

And as he goes from place to place, asking for forgiveness, sharing his wealth.

And what do we see?

We see a person who is no longer slowly dying alone, but a man who is alive with the love of God, and who is living with others.

Today, we stand with those ten men, suffering from leprosy, cast out and alone, as they see Jesus entering the village,

And we cry out “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

Jesus heals us, and gives us new life. He brings us back into communion with God and with our neighbors.

And our Lord strengthens us be victorious in the spiritual warfare.

Giving to those in need who can never repay us, we banish the hosts of wickedness.

Showing kindness to those who are unkind, we quench the fiery darts of the evil one.

Loving those who are unlovable, we vanquish the armies of darkness.

For our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ grants us victory in the spiritual warfare.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

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Amen.

The Ministry of the Son

Luke 15:11-32

In Jesus’ parable, the older brother probably couldn’t remember a time without his younger brother.

They would have eaten together, worked together, gotten in trouble together, and played together.

From the first light of dawn until the last word spoken before drifting off to sleep, their lives were intertwined, they were brothers.

And that’s precisely why it would have hurt so much.

Sure, they would have fought, all brothers fight and there were probably times when his younger brother said stupid things, hurtful, disrespectful things, like all kids do.

But when did it really go bad?

At first maybe his younger brother made threats, “Fine, if nobody understands me, if nobody really cares about me, then I’ll just leave.”

It would have been a horrible thing to say, an unthinkable thing to say,

but who could have imagined that he’d actually go through with it.

And then his younger brother finally made that scandalous demand to their father,

for his share of the inheritance…

imagine that, half the inheritance—as though their father was already dead!

No one ever thought his father would agree to it.

And maybe in the days that followed he watched in cold disbelief as his father sold the land and the cattle and put together the money.

It was unthinkable.

But none of it seemed real until that last day, the day that his younger brother actually took the money from his fathers hand, and walked out of the house, out of the village, and out of their lives.

How could his younger brother do it?

The older brother must have been so angry!

It was so stupid, it was so selfish, and idiotic!

Everyone in the village knew about it, and it was so shameful.

Everyone would be talking about their family; the awkward looks in the market, the accusations, the innuendo.

It would have been the cruelest thing a brother could do.

So while younger brother left with his money, the older brother was left to pick up the pieces.

There was no less work to do in the household, the fields were no easier to plow and plant, and harvest.

And his father wasn’t getting any younger, so the older brother would have had to take over his younger brother’s share of the work.

For what?

Did he get anything out of it?

No, he didn’t.

His foolish, wasteful brother took off with his share of the family money to do what?

To start a business, to invest in trade, to build something meaningful?

No, of course not.

He went off to party, to wine and dine, and sleep around.

Even in those days, news traveled from place to place, and bad news traveled even faster.

So, I’m sure that the older brother would have heard about his younger brother’s exploits.

And at some point, he probably heard about the famine and how the money had run out.

How his younger brother had burned through all the family money, and how he was forced to take a dirty, filthy disgraceful job.

And perhaps at that moment, the older brother thought, “Well, he betrayed us all,

he made a laughing stock of our father and our family, he burned through everything in sinful, drunken debauchery, and now he gets what he deserves."

Maybe he said to himself, “Sit in the mud with those unclean swine and think about what you’ve done.

Think about how good it was here in your father’s house.

You’ve made your bed, now lie in it.”

And so the big brother would have carried on, working at home, in the fields, in obedience to his father,

day in day out, through the seasons, under the hot sun of the summer, and through the rains of winter.

And then one day, the older son finished his work and on his way back home, and he heard a strange sound.

Music and dancing.

This didn’t make sense, it wasn’t a feast day, and nobody was getting married.

What on earth was happening?

He saw some of the servants, carrying fresh meat from the slaughterhouse.

He asked “What’s going on? What’s all the music, and where did that meat come from?”

The servants say, “Your father told us to kill the fatted calf for a great feast, because your brother has come home. Your father gave him his best robe, put sandals on his feet, and a ring on his finger. It’s a huge celebration.”

“What, you’ve got to be kidding!?! He’s back? That worthless good-for-nothing has dared to come home? And now my father is throwing a party, serving a feast…?

OK, fine.  You guys go about your business if that’s what my father wants.

But count me out.  I’ll have nothing to do with this. My brother is dead to me. I have no brother!”

Now the older brother, thinks that he’s on moral high ground. After all, he’s the one who’s been a good obedient, hard working son. But his anger and sense of righteous indignation lead him to make a tragic mistake. Because the moment that he says that he will not come in to the feast, the older brother does exactly the same thing that the younger brother did. In his arrogance, he presumes to know better than his father, and he cuts himself off from the family.

Sure, the older brother is not sitting in the mud with the swine, but in his anger he has severed ties with his father and his family, and how awful it must have been for him to stand out there in the fields, hearing all that music, seeing all those people joining the celebration, as he was alone with his anger and his righteous indignation.

The older brother falls into the most deadly trap of Satan, the trap of pride and arrogance.

Now, only a few of us are older brothers, and some of us have brothers and sisters.

But all of us have friends, and classmates, and spouses, parents, colleagues and coworkers.

All of us are part of a community.

And anyone who lives in community has a ministry, because ministry is about serving others.

It is ministry, our service to others, that creates and strengthens community.

But living in community, serving in ministry is not easy, because sometimes people let us down, and it hurts.

This is the challenge of ministry.

And there are times in our lives of ministry in community, when we may say to ourselves, “There is just no way. How can I continue in my ministry of being a brother or sister,

my ministry of being a parent,

my ministry of being a friend,

my ministry of serving others in the name of Jesus Christ?

It is just too painful."

When people betray us, when they let us down we wonder:

how can we ever love them again;

how can we ever trust them again;

how can we ever allow them back into our lives when they have caused us so much pain?

The older son felt that kind of pain when his younger brother left, and he felt even more of that pain when his brother came back.

Betrayal is painful, but what hurts even more is when we refuse to love another person, when we stand in judgment over them and reject them because of their sins and failures. This is when we condemn ourselves to the hateful isolation of hell.

But it doesn’t have to end like this.

In the Bible there is a story about another son who found himself in a similar situation.

He had a large family, in fact, it was a huge family. And in this family all of his brothers and sisters betrayed their father.

But this son was not allowed to stay home.

His father said to him, “I’m sending you out to find your brothers and sisters.”

And being an obedient son, he went. He left his father’s home and went to live with his people. He did everything he could to convince them to come home.

But the people did not believe him.

They called him a liar,

They said he was a fake, an imposter, a deceiver.

But this son wouldn’t give up. His father had sent him to bring his brothers and sisters home,

and he would not abandon them.

But the people he came to rescue were so fixed in their ways, so mired in uncleanness and sin, so hardened with arrogance and pride, that they decided they couldn’t let him live.

And so they decided to kill the son.

Of course we know who this son is, he is Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

And on that night in the Garden of Gethsemane when it was absolutely clear that the people were going to kill him, He prayed to God, “Father if it is possible let this cup pass from me,

nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.”

As we know, they handed Jesus over to the Roman soldiers, who beat him and mocked him and crucified him. But his Father raised him on the Third Day, revealing to his disciples and to anyone with ears to hear that Jesus IS the Son of God. And after forty days, Jesus ascended into heaven to show us the way home to the house of our Heavenly Father, the Kingdom of Heaven.

Christ does not bitterly condemn us, nor does he stand outside of His Father’s house filled with indignation that sinners like us are welcomed home.

Instead, Christ gives his life so that we might be forgiven and welcomed home to His Father’s house.

Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is one of us, like us in every way except sin,

He is perfect God and perfect man, which makes him very much like our older brother, as one of my Church School students pointed out last week.

Jesus is like our older brother who leads us back to the house of the Father.

And today, we take another step on that amazing journey home. Today we rise up out of the mud of our sins, and our bitterness, for the Risen Lord raises us up out of the darkness of sin.

It is not a journey that we make on our own, or according to our own plans or rationale, for it is Christ who leads us on every step of the journey home.

Our journey with Christ is one of love and forgiveness and mercy.

It is not a journey to a distant location, somewhere “out there,” but it is an interior journey of the heart, bringing us ever closer to God and ever closer to one another, for the love of Christ reconciles us to God and to one another. The love of Christ strengthens us in our loving service to others, strengthens us in our ministry to the people around us.

Ten years ago a very wise person said to me,

In your ministry there will be moments when Satan may whisper in your ear that you do not belong in your ministry.

But always remember, no matter what, no matter how hard it might be, no matter how much you might doubt yourself, that Christ has called you to serve others in love.

And whether we are mothers or fathers or brothers or sisters or priests or laypeople,

today Christ renews our ministry as we are forgiven our sins, and as we forgive the sins of those around us.

And whenever God’s children turn and repent from their sins, and return home, our Heavenly father prepares a great feast to welcome us home, not the feast of a fatted calf, but the feast of the Body and Blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

For today we who were dead in sin are alive again, and we who were lost now are found.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

Can you hear the wolves?

John 10:9-16  

11/13, Feast of St. John Chrysostom 

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

At night the shepherds would have heard the wolves.  The shepherds in the time of Jesus who took their flocks out into the countryside,  to find pasture and water.  Journeying far from the safety of the village or the city, settling down for the night they could hear the hungry wolves that prowled in the distance.  Remember, this was not Wild West, shepherds did not carry lever action Winchester rifles to fend off predators.  The shepherds in Jesus’ day would have had a wooden staff, a sling and a bag of small round stones.  Shepherd’s had to be brave folks, who could face danger.  But at night, as the small fire would have been dying down to embers,  and as the sheep settled down,  they would have heard the wolves, and it would have sent a chill up the spine of the bravest shepherd.  

Can you hear the wolves?  

When Hurricane Sandy knocked us off the grid, and devastated the Tri-State area could you hear the wolves?  

As the national election shook the country and enflamed passions of anger and bitterness between brothers and sisters, could you hear the wolves?  

Hearing about scandals and controversy within the Church, on the national level, in the parish, or between friends and family,  can you hear the wolves?  

It is awfully tempting to run for it, isn’t it?  Just give up the whole thing and run for your life.  

Today Jesus tells us that if the shepherd was a hired hand,  if the sheep weren’t his own,  and if he caught a glimpse of those ravenous wolves advancing towards the sheep,  he’d abandon the flock and run for his life.  And the sheep scatter, and the wolves attack at will.  Now, if we are merely talking about livestock, then a shepherd might fare pretty well if he ran for his life.  There are only so many wolves, maybe a dozen or so, and odds are that a pack of wolves would much rather go after a young lamb, a slow pregnant female, or an old feeble sheep.  

But here is the problem.  Jesus is not giving advice on caring for livestock,  he is speaking of a spiritual reality.  And the wolves that Jesus is talking about are not of this world.  They are demons, intent on dividing the Body of Christ,  and devouring human souls.  So, if the shepherd runs away, and leaves the flock of Christ to the demonic wolves,  there is no safety,  for anyone.  The demonic powers of Satan will not only hunt down every last one of the sheep   but also go after every shepherd that runs and tries to save his own life.  

But our shepherd is not a hired hand.  Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ lays down his life for His reason endowed flock.  He offers His life as he is suspended on the Cross so that we would know without a doubt, that He loves us and that we belong to Him.  Jesus Christ is the Good Shepherd, He knows his own flock, and his flock know him, we hear his voice and we follow Him.  

Today we celebrate the life of St. John Chrysostom, a man who listened to the voice of the Good Shepherd a man who followed in the footsteps of Christ, a man who did the work of the Gospel.  He served the flock of Christ in the midst of a wilderness of sin.  Constantinople with it’s spectacles and games its greed and its wealth, its lust and its passion the demonic wolves in that capital city threatened the flock of Christ more than any predators in the Jordan Valley ever threatened a flock of sheep.  In the midst of that danger, St. John stood by the poor, and the weak and the vulnerable, constantly providing for spiritual and material needs.  Ravening wolves attacked him from every side.  On one side, strict disciplinarians said that he was too soft in his merciful appeal to sinners.  He would say, “If you have fallen a second time, or even a thousand times into sin, come and you shall be healed.”  On the other side, influential and wealthy bishops and priests mocked him for his austere lifestyle, and publicly accused him of mismanagement, claiming that his care of the poor was a “waste” of Church money.  Finally, he was attacked head on by a vain and decadent empress and her imperial court,  who did not feel it was right for a bishop to criticize their public spectacles.  

Yet in spite of it all St. John stood by his flock and never ran for his life.  Facing the imperial threat he said,  “Though the sea roar and the wave rise high, they cannot overwhelm the ship of Jesus Christ.    I fear not death which is may gain; nor exile for the whole earth is the Lord's, nor the loss of goods for I came naked into the world and I can carry nothing out of it.”  

He stood by his flock until armed guards dragged him out of the city into exile.  But even in exile, he wrote letters and exhorted his friends and spiritual children,  reminding them of the love of God, and the mercy of Christ.  And in his death, out in the lonely, harsh place where he had been literally dragged in chains,  he completed his course by laying down his life, in emulation of Christ the Good Shepherd.  And with his last breath, saying, “Glory be to God for all things.”  

Hearing the Word of God, preaching the Gospel and standing by the weak and the vulnerable, even when it costs you your life, this is the legacy of St. John Chrysostom.  

This is our life, this is our work, this is our calling.   

Today we follow Christ the Good Shepherd.  

When a stranger is hungry, we feed him.  

When a sister is lonely, we sit by her side.  

When a brother is angry, we patiently listen to him, just like God always patiently listens to us.  

We follow Christ the Good Shepherd,  we hear His word and know that we belong to Him.  And we lay down our life for others,  just like He laid down his life for us.    

Amen    

Christmas burnout?

(Preached on Jan 2, 2010)

Are you feeling a touch of post-Christmas burnout?

If you are in school, it is the feeling that you’ll have this evening,

when someone says,

“Do you have everything ready for school tomorrow?”

And you think to yourself, “Oh, no, not school again!?!”

If you are a teacher, it is the feeling you’ll have tonight when you think,

“OK, do I have everything ready for class tomorrow?”

Of course, many of us have been back at the office, or on the jobsite for several days already.

Maybe, you hardly had any time off for Christmas.

But regardless of how much vacation you had,

just about all of us get a touch of post-Christmas burnout.

You look around the house, and think about taking down the tree down.

Or maybe you’re still trying to get all of the cardboard boxes into the recycling.

Somewhere, deep down, even as we kept singing, “Christ is born.”

It’s easy to feel of weary, and exhausted right after Christmas.

All of that work, all of that preparation, all of that food, all of that cleaning.

And now what?

Back to the grind?

Back to the same old thing…again?

That’s the worst part about Christmas burnout.

It is that sense that after all of that excitement and celebration and work,

That somehow we return to being stuck in the same old thing,

where life is just one darn thing after another.

This is such a deadly trap, yet so easy to fall into.

It is where life seems like a long endless series of chores

and somehow you are expected to do them all.

But who likes to do chores?

I sure don’t!

When I was a kid, we lived in the mountains, and we heated our house with fire wood.

I don’t know how much wood we actually burned in a winter,

but it was a lot.

Every weekend, we’d go out into the hills behind our house cut down the trees,

chop off all the limbs,

and carve the trunks into firewood size chunks.

But that was just the beginning,

because all those hundreds of pieces of firewood,

had to be schlepped back down the hill,

and stacked in the woodshed.

I remember, looking at a big pile of firewood, freshly cut, and piled up at the head of the trail that led back to our house,

and I’d think to myself, “How in the world are we ever going to get all of this wood into the woodshed! It is going to take forever!!!”

And in that moment a wave of despair would fall down on me, like a cold, wet blanket.

Now, maybe you don’t heat your house with wood,

but have you ever had that experience of feeling deflated, and hopeless about the work that stands before you?

It is depressing, and somehow, the days after Christmas can seem particularly deflating.

After all of the expectation, and preparation, and celebration…and now…blah.

Well, maybe the apostle Timothy was feeling a bit like this when St. Paul wrote to him and said,

“Preach the word, be ready when it is convenient and when it is not convenient…

always be steady, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist,

fulfill your calling.”

St. Paul’s’ letter to Timothy is a basically a first century Christian pep-talk.

You see, St. Paul was Timothy’s teacher, mentor, and father in Christ,

and Paul had recently been thrown into prison.

So things were looking pretty bleak for St. Paul,

and by extension, they were looking pretty bleak for Timothy as well.

There were scandals, and divisions, in the Churches that St. Paul had established.

There was treachery, and betrayal, and there were probably at least a million reasons for Timothy to be depressed and downhearted.

In other words Timothy had plenty of good reasons to feel burned out.

But St. Paul says to Timothy,

and he says to all of us,

“rekindle the gift of God that is within you…for God did not give us a spirit of cowards

but a spirit of power and love and self-control.”

St. Paul says to rekindle the Gift of God that is within us.

And that gift is Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ is the gift that God gives to us on Christmas,

the Only Begotten Son of God the Father comes into our world,

comes into our lives,

comes to us right now as a gift.

Yet, as wonderful as Christmas is, that is not the end of the story.

Jesus Christ doesn’t merely come to us as a beautiful infant, lying away in the manger.

Yes, Christ comes into this world on His glorious nativity.

And that is a tremendous gift.

But Christ is God’s gift that keeps on giving.

Even the best gifts that we gave and received a week ago,

can grow old and stale, be used up, or simply lose their relevance.

You get a fancy box of European chocolates,

the kind where each one is wrapped up in pretty foil,

and they are filled with all of these creamy, crunchy bits.

But, soon, you eat them and they are gone.

Or, maybe you get the coolest smart-phone on the market,

and it does all of these amazing things.

But in six months or a year, something else will come out and your phone won’t be special anymore.

Or, maybe you get a stack of books.

And then you dive into them, and they are really interesting, and great to read,

but sooner or later, they have all been read.

But the gift of Jesus Christ is never used up,

Christ never becomes dated or irrelevant.

Jesus Christ has come into this world as an infant, born to the Virgin Mary,

and He is coming to us as a man, teaching and preaching the good news of our salvation.

And we look forward to that celebration in a few short days on the glorious feast of Theophany.

For Christ is always with us,

always increasing His presence in our lives,

always surprising us with new gifts of mercy and love and truth.

This is why St. Paul talks about rekindling the gift of God.

If you have ever heated your house with firewood, you are intimately familiar with re-kindling a fire.

The night before, the fire was good and hot,

a blazing hearth that warmed the whole house.

But through the course of the night, that fire burns down,

and when you wake up the house is cold, and you are cold.

And you look at the remains of the fire, and mostly it is just cold, gray ashes.

But then, as fish around in the ashes with the fire poker,

you discover that the fire has not burned out,

deep down under the ashes, there are a few hot coals.

So, you carefully scrape them together, and gently blow on them.

And as you do, the edges start to glow, and with a few more gentle breaths, they start to get hot.

And then you put a few small pieces of kindling over those coals,

and with a bit more coaxing, the kindling smokes and then bursts into flame,

and your fire has come back to life.

And it gives you heat, and light and all the goodness of being warm on a cold winter day.

Rekindle the gift of God within us.

It might seem like we are burned out, but we are not!

The gift of God, Jesus Christ, is still within us.

The fire may have burned down, but it has not burned out.

Today we remember the great St. Seraphim of Sarov,

a man who was on fire with the love of God in Jesus Christ.

and perhaps the most beloved saint of the Russian Church.

But the amazing thing about his life is that it was so simple.

He was a monk, who went out to live in the forest as a hermit,

and every day of this life, he put all his focus on the gift of Jesus Christ,

the gift that God had given him.

He carried the scriptures with him wherever he went,

and he would read the entire new Testament every week.

And at the heart of everything that he did, and all the wonders that surround his life,

was the Gift of God, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

But St. Seraphim’s life wasn’t just all gold and incense, and shining with the uncreated light.

He had immense struggles, and faced constant temptation.

But St. Seraphim led a life of continuously rekindling the fire of the love of God in his heart.

So, if you find yourself feeling a little burned out,

close your eyes for a minute, and think back to Christmas.

Think of one truly wonderful moment in the course of all that celebration.

Was it the joy of giving a gift to someone that made them happy?

Was it the joy and excitement of looking forward to a new gift?

Was it the warmth and hope of having your family sit down together at the table?

Maybe it wasn’t even this year.

Maybe it was something you remember from ten years ago.

Picture it in your mind, and then focus on Jesus Christ.

For Christ is the gift and Christ is the source of that joy,

and ask Him to help you rekindle that fire of divine love.

If you were thinking about the joy of giving someone else a gift,

then go out and give someone a gift.

It doesn’t have to be big, and it certainly doesn’t have to be Christmas.

Just go out and give something to someone.

If you were thinking about the joy and excitement of looking forward to opening a present,

then begin each day with that same sense of expectation.

For each day Christ is giving us something, new, something wonderful,

something beyond our expectations.

If you were thinking about the joy of sitting around the table with family,

then invite people over for a meal.

It doesn’t have to be a big deal, serve them a big bowl of hot soup, and a piece of bread,

and share the love of Christ with everyone in your home.

Rekindle the love of God in your heart.

With a regular fire that you use for heat or for cooking,

you constantly rekindle it,

day after day, after day.

And it is always basically the same.

But the amazing thing about the love of God,

is that every time it is rekindled, it burns hotter and brighter than before.

So today if you feel a little cold, a little weary, a little lifeless,

remember that the fire may have burned down,

but it has not burned out.

For the gift of God is still within each one of us.

Jesus Christ is still within each one of us.

Rekindle the gift that is within you.

Rekindle your love for God.

Rekindle your love for Jesus Christ.

And as you do, the warming, hopeful, joyful fire of God’s love,

will burn ever more brightly in your heart.

Amen.