Zacchaeus

LUKE 19:1-10

At that time, Jesus was passing through Jericho. And there was a man named Zacchaeus; he was a chief collector, and rich. And he sought to see who Jesus was, but could not, on account of the crowd, because he was small of stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him, for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, make haste and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” So he made haste and came down, and received him joyfully. And when they saw it they all murmured, “He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.” And Zacchaeus stood and said to the Lord, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded any one of anything, I restore it fourfold.” And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of man came to seek and to save the lost.”

A man gets his car towed. Has to walk three miles in cold to find the parking lot where they towed his car. He pays the fine. And then the clerk pockets the cash. The man says, “now let me have my car, I paid the fine. “

And the clerk says, “I didn’t get any money from you. You owe me $200.”

The man protests: “I just paid you.”

“I don’t recall getting any money from you. You owe $200 or you can’t have your car back.”

The guy has to pay another $200 and hope that he can get his car back now.

That is what it was like to be around Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was a really bad man. Let’s be clear about that. The Romans set a tax, but Zacchaeus could collect as much as he wanted and keep the difference. And so he exploited people ruthlessly. People had to sell their children into slavery to pay sometimes.

The irony is in his name: Zacchaeus means “the pure one!!” Zakach means pure, like pure as snow, clean. The only thing pure about this guy is that he is pure evil.

When we meet Zacchaeus in the world, we hate him. We want him to suffer. We hope that he’s going to get what’s coming to him. In our hearts we hope that the corrupt get caught, put in jail.  Seeing them punished is like seeing a stain come out of your clothes.

Delight at the judgment of sinners is not a mindset that comes out of love. If I love the victims of injustice I have to also love the perpetrators of injustice. When I enjoy the torment of an enemy, this is because it give me, and only me, a benefit.

The gleeful feeling of knowing that I am correct in saying that person has done something evil, the joy that I feel from that derives from the fact that for a moment I can forget how wicked I am. It’s like opium for my conscience. I feel guilt-free by comparison.

In our society, this manifests itself, for example, we complain about people who benefit from government programs. We are gleeful when a politician from the other side of the political divide gets publicly shamed, caught doing something wrong, thrown out of office, maybe even sent to jail. We consume the news that is produced by vultures who call themselves journalists. They destroy the lives of not only politicians but also the lives of their families, their children, because we pay them to do it. We want more and more. We are insatiable.

But look what happens when Zacchaeus is found by Christ: the whole of society benefits. Zacchaeus gave everything he had back to the people he had robbed. Society is healed when the sinner becomes a member of the family of Christ. When sinners repent, they are not oppressing you anymore.

Watching our enemies suffer is like having a sweet in our mouth. We just want to savor the flavor. We deny ourselves the benefit of being in communion with them. We pass up on the opportunity to have them as brothers. Ultimately, we are not sitting at the table with Christ when it is beneath us to associate with Zacchaeus.

Jesus picks Zacchaeus out of the whole crowd and wants to have dinner with him. The syccamore tree is like an oak or walnut tree. It’s big and tall, and people planted it along the road to give shade. Zacchaeus is a little man in a big tree.

I wonder if Jesus picked him out because it was such a miracle that an evil guy like this wanted to know what Jesus was saying and doing. So many of the evil-doers that Jesus encountered did not want to listen to him.

Perhaps Jesus stopped to talk to him because Zacchaeus didn’t mind climbing a tree like a little boy – didn’t mind the humiliation of his short stature being put on display – in order to get to the true God. Jesus responds to us when we aren’t afraid to ask for help. When we know that we are week and he is strong. When we rely on Christ, we are become our true selves – the pure ones.

Dostoyevsky writes about another bad man in one of his books. This bad man is a drunkard who drank away all his money and left his wife and kids to die in poverty. And this drunkard – this deadbeat – says this on his death bed:

“Then Christ will say to us, Come you also! Come you drunkards! Come you weaklings! Come you depraved! And he will say to us, Vile creatures, you are in the image of the beast and you bear his mark. All the same, you come too!

“And the wise and prudent will say, Lord, why are you welcoming them? And he will say, O wise and prudent, I am welcoming them because not one of them has ever judged himself worthy.

“And he will stretch out his arms to us, and we shall fall at his feet, and burst into sobs, and then we shall understand everything, everything! Lord, your kingdom come!”

What Jesus gave Zacchaeus was the gift of being free to love his neighbor and seek out relationship. That’s what freedom is for. Freedom is being free enough to admit all truth about all the darkness in our hearts that keeps us from Jesus.

Freedom is being able to admit that we only look like pious Christians, but inside we are pagans full of sin and hatred and misery. Freedom is being able to admit we are terrified that Jesus will not love us.

When we embrace the truth that this freedom gives us, we are free to love other people. Freedom is the assurance that God is with me and will not abandon me. God is dwelling in my house when I repent. God is near me, and so I can find the courage to reach out to do good for the poor.

If you have money, like Zacchaeus, the best gift God ever gave you is the people you can help with that money.

Let’s stop judging each other. Let’s stop seeing the sinner in each other, and instead look at the sinner inside ourselves. Climb up the tree, and look for Jesus.

And when the sinner inside me finds Jesus, Jesus is not going to judge that sinner. He is going to wash that sinner and make him whiter than snow. The sinner that comes to Jesus becomes a shining light of love.

We fear the sinners around us, and we think we have to judge them, hate them, oppose them, because we fear the sinner inside of ourselves. But Jesus can change what is inside us when we admit to him that we need help.

Lord Jesus Christ, my God, I am nothing without you. I am the most despicable man, the most unlovable, the most selfish, the most damnable, the most detestable, pathetic man without you. Without your calling, without the life you give me to live, my life is meaningless and nothing. Help me to be like you so that I can truly become a man. Help me to love like you so that I can truly find friendship and fellowship. Help me to give so that I can receive eternal life.

Luke 17:12-19: The False Tribe

At that time, as Jesus entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices and said: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’s feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then said Jesus: “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him: “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”

I have a hard time seeing what the other nine lepers did wrong. Jesus said, “go to the priests.” They went to the priests.

In the Jewish law, when you were cleansed of a disease that was contagious, you could only leave your quarantine by going to a priest and having it confirmed that you were clean. Then you did some sacrifices, and were declared ritually clean.

Actually, you had to bring, amongst other things, hyssop- an herb. And the blood of a bird would be sprinkled on you in order to declare you ritually clean. This is what Psalm 50 is referring to when it says, “sprinkle me with hyssop and I shall be clean.” After that you could rejoin the sacrificing community.

There was one foreigner in the group of lepers. He could not join the sacrificing community with or without leprosy. But Jesus told all of them to go to the priest. The foreigner turned around and came back to Jesus. We know that Jesus is the true high priest. Perhaps that man also understood.

This is a story that speaks to us about tribalism. And it is a story that confronts us, and asks us to consider who it is that is our real high priest? Who gives us security in life? Who is going to make our society and our communities safe? Who is it that tells us “you are clean”? Who has the power to verify for us that we are on the right path, that everything is okay? Or more importantly: there might be one group who can tell us that we are clean. Jesus can make us clean.

If we can be members in good standing of a tribe or a people, which tribe is it? What group do we need to belong to, in order to know that we belong? The Samaritan leper knew that he did not have a people to belong to (yes, there was a Samaritan people, but when the Jewish rabbi healed him he realized, probably, what Jesus told another Samaritan: “salvation is from the Jews.”). He only had Jesus who had healed him.

This is probably the most important point I am going to make in this sermon, and the pity is that it comes so early. There is real pain in not belonging. There is real suffering for humans when they do not belong to a group. And many of us, especially if we have moved around from place to place, feel permanently lonely, on the outside looking in. Just being outside is suffering.

Christians in the western world, a world that used to be majority Christian, are rediscovering the pain of being outsiders. Our parents did not really know this pain in the same way. I’m concerned for the children. If we have a society where we teach people the wrong things, then there are going to be negative consequences. People are going to suffer.

But outside of the tribe, that is the place where we meet Jesus. And so the question is whether we also understand that we do not have any tribe of any value apart from Jesus.

The epistle today said: “Here there cannot be Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free man, but Christ is all, and in all.” When we have allowed ourselves to depend on a tribe too much, we become blind to how dependent on the tribe we have made ourselves. We are blind to our fear of what will happen if we lose the tribe. Our tribe becomes our God and we don’t need Jesus nearly as much as we need our tribe. Jesus is welcome only if he can fit into the tribe.

How do we know that we are in this state? For me, I know I have become wedded to my tribe when I find myself hurt and angered by how many people surround me that I disagree with. We are surrounded by people who think differently than we do. We know people who used to think the way we do, but they changed their minds.

When did I start thinking I have the right to be surrounded by people who agree with me? I know I am in a tribal mindset when I think that there are too many of them (whoever “they” are) and they are not listening to us. “How can they say that? How can they think that way?” That is the tribal mindset.

So one way that tribalism shows up in our lives is an anxiety about different people. In our day, yes there are some people who have anxiety about race, or about foreigners being in the country, but I think that the most prevalent form of tribalism is political.

Another aspect of tribalism is when we feel anxiety about how much of ourselves we have to sacrifice in order to belong to the tribe. We worry about fitting in. Just like a carpenter might have to shave off part of a piece of wood, and trim a bit off the edges to make it fit, we often find that we have to damage our own identity in Christ in order to fit in. It hurts when we are afraid that that the people we want to be friends with won’t be our friend if they know what we truly think; if we suspect that the price of having friends is to pretend to be someone we’re not – to hide part of ourselves as if you’re ashamed of it.

Another aspect of tribalism is when there is someone who agrees with me, but that person is a bad ambassador for my point of view. There are people who agree with me on an issue who are cruel, who are bullies, rude and pushy

They say hateful things – all to defend a point of view that, I guess theoretically, I agree with. But I’m so ashamed of how they behave that I almost wish I didn’t agree with them. But that’s the price of tribalism.

In that situation many of us choose either temporarily or permanently to suffocate our conscience, and instead say and think the things that will give us friends. That means that we go around with a guilty conscience all the time. We are afraid we will be found out. Our inner dialogue says, “if my friends knew what kind of a church I go to they wouldn’t be my friend. If people at my church knew what I really think they might not accept me.”

If you are trying to hide who you are, and hoping they don’t find out, you will start to think like tribe whose approval you want and your actions will become opposed to Jesus, not just your words.

Many of us like to think that we are courageous in defending the victims of society. We think, for example, that if there is a person who says that they are born a certain way, if they say that they have this deep desire to live a certain lifestyle then it is monstrous for anyone to ask them to not act on that desire. They say are victims of a society that does not accept them as they are.

Ask yourself if that line of reasoning is really consistent with your Christian faith? How can you be expected to repent of your sins if it is a monstrous idea for anyone else to self-regulate? If what I desire determines who I am, why am I trying to put on Christ?

Do you take the side of the people that society today calls victims, because you really understand what a victim is? Or is it because you are afraid to become a victim of their intolerance?

The gospel says that Jesus liberates the sinner from the slavery of sin. But people object to that and say, “how dare you tell me what I can and cannot do. This is who I am!” And you have to ask yourself – if you are indignant together with those people – indignant against the gospel of Jesus Christ – because you truly care about the sinner, or because you are virtue-signaling to the woke tribe?

The nature of sin is that it hates to hear sin be called out as sin. People who have chosen a lifestyle that destroys the humanity God gave us will always try to punish those who speak of and embody the humanity of Christ. The people that you virtue-signal to, the people that society tells you are victims, will very seldom defend your right to worship according to your conscience. It is very rare for those same people to recognize followers of Christ as victims of intolerance. It is not a two-way street. Your post-Christian tribe is not loyal to you.

“Well that’s okay,” you might think, “I don’t need anyone’s sympathy.” But do you want to embolden those who persecute your fellow Christians? Do you want to be standing shoulder to shoulder with those who in a few years’ time might punish your children for calling themselves Christians?

You remember that Peter denied knowing Christ. When Peter denied Christ, he did it because he thought they were going to arrest him together with Christ. Peter was the one who had proclaimed that he wanted to die together with Jesus! “I’ll do anything for you!!”

That is the great tragedy of denying Christ. You begin by hiding the truth but you end up being someone you don’t want to be. That’s the one form of tribalism.

Then there is another method of dealing with the tension between our faith and the people around us. This is another method that also fails. Instead of fitting into the flavor-of-the-week tribe, we join the angry push-back tribe. This is a tribe that doesn’t try to fit in. This is a tribe that exists in order to defeat the others. It has no real vision except why others are wrong. If we belong to this tribe, we make ourselves out to be martyrs just because we have been insensitive and have made others uncomfortable. Just because I was aggressive and obnoxious and other people’s feelings were hurt, that makes me the victim, and proves that I was right.

It is if Jesus needs us to defend him. And the result is that we create this counter-culture of anger and judgment. What it means to be one of us is that we are not one of them. This tribe’s gift to the world is its opinions and judgments. Not prayers. Not repentance. And this tribe is bewildered when the world is not grateful.

These two forms of tribalism are actually very similar. On tribe fosters a sense of belonging by displaying their wokeness by virtue-signaling. The other tribe can only ever say who they oppose but are never able to say who they love.

Let’s read the epistle reading from yesterday

Hebrews 13:7-16

Brethren, remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God consider the outcome of their lives, and imitate their faith.

This is one of the great gifts that Orthodoxy has to offer to Western society. We remember those who gave us our faith. We listen to them. We worship with them. We are in communion with the people who taught us our faith. We do not throw them under the bus in order to gain the approval of our peers. We ask for the prayers of the saints who have taught us.

The price of being woke is often that we have to forget about or outright reject those who came before us.

Paul continues:

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Do not be led away by diverse and strange teachings; for it is well that the heart be strengthened by grace, not by foods, which have not benefited their adherents. We have an altar from which those who serve the tent have no right to eat. For the bodies of those animals whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest as a sacrifice for sin are burned outside the camp. So Jesus also suffered outside the gate in order to sanctify the people through his own blood. Therefore let us go forth to him outside the camp and bear the abuse he endured.

Following Christ is always going to entail being an outsider. Being a Christian is always a counter culture. The problem comes when people think that there was a time, say fifty or a hundred years ago, when Christianity was not a counter culture. If it was not a counter culture it was not Christian.

Being Christian is always a counter culture, but it is always a counter culture of love and humility and empathy.

St. Paul says, suffer with Christ outside of the camp. He does not say, “judge and hate the people who are inside the camp while you are sitting outside of the camp.” I said before – one of the most important points I want to make is that we are tribal because we are suffering. We are sad and lonely and afraid. We need a group to belong to.

Will we run to Jesus first? Can we trust Jesus to be all that we need?

Paul continues:

For here we have no lasting city [or tribe], but we seek the city which is to come. Through [Jesus] then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name. Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.

Our calling is to show the truth to the world in the sufferings of Christ. This is the fundamental difference between a tribal community and the body of Christ. The body of Christ exists to serve each other, to embrace suffering and death in order to give life. A tribe exists to protect its own, often at the cost of others. The Christian community exists only to spread the gospel. The only boundaries we put around our community are the high expectations on a life of sacrifice, holiness and service. The tribe sees and outsider who wants to join, and says, “what can you do for us?” The body of Christ sees and outsider and asks, “what can we do for you?”

If you want to be true to your conscience, but also have friends, if you want to boldly speak the truth, but you don’t want to be part of the angry mob that delights in offending people, I have really good news for you!!! You have come to the right place.

Paul wrote to the Hebrews and said, “Share what you have.”

The word for “share” is koinonia, communion. Make a communion out of what you have: an offering. This is sacrificial, liturgical language. Likewise, when the one leper in today’s gospel returned to Jesus, he gave thanks. And the Greek word for that is “eucharist.” He gave a eucharist to Jesus.

What I am saying is that your need to belong, and your need to champion what is right and righteous are both met in the eucharistic communion right here in the church. This is a place where your sharing is urgently needed.

People come to church hurt and in urgent need of comfort. Share your time with them. Share your presence with them. Go downstairs after the liturgy today, and sit at a table you don’t usually sit at, and talk to someone you don’t usually talk to.

The life of good deeds offered to God as a sweet-smelling and fragrant offering is the life of eucharistic giving. Your good deeds are your gifts, your sacrifices. When we give, we show anyone who is watching what we really believe in. We put our money where our mouth is. There is no more potent “statement,” no more noble way to “take a stand” then serving. We believe that life has meaning when we worship God. We tell the world about that belief by showing up for church, tithing and serving.

If you are concerned that the world is going crazy, a really good thing to do about it is to give all the more to your church as an act of defiance. Show the world that love is the truth.

Theophany

The story of Theophany shows us the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, and it shows us what the whole trajectory of Jesus’ ministry will be. God became man and he entered into every part of creation, even the inaccessible and remote parts.

The ancient Israelites were not seafaring people. To them, water represented the strange and unpredictable part of nature that they needed to water their crops and their animals. But the ocean and the rivers represented chaos and confusion to them. The oceans were this vast expanse that ships went out into, never to return. The psalms we read during the Royal Hours of Theophany spoke of the fear of Israel. They said things like, “my enemies attack me.” They ask God to, “lift up your hand against pride, against the evil things that the enemy has done in the holy place.”

We do not have the same relationship with the ocean. But we do have uncertainty in life. We don’t know if we will have our jobs next year. We don’t know how we will pay our bills. We don’t know how to be better parents, or how to find happiness. We also live in a chaotic and unpredictable and cruel world. When God himself comes and is baptized in this water, it is a statement about how God fills all things.

The hymns and psalms of Theophany tell us that, “the waters were afraid” when Christ descended into the Jordan. The chaotic soup of misery is terrified of Christ. The question is if we want God everywhere. Do I want God to be with me at all times? As sinners we are ambivalent to God’s presence because we are ashamed. We fear that God is a tyrant who will strike us down in a rage. We want the good things that God gives us, but we fear that he is easily offended. And so hardships become the context in which we resent God’s presence. You were there, God, but you did not do what I wanted! When our lives are like the ship on the storm-tossed sea we think God has abandoned us.

The truth is that God is always with us. But that will always be bad news until we understand that God is not a tyrant. Unless we accept a different picture of who God is, we will always see Him either as a volatile judge or a stingy and begrudging caretaker. Jesus shows us who God is in his baptism. He turns cruel fallen nature into blessing.

Does that mean that Jesus has given us a guarantee that if we follow him we will never have hardships? Will he make cruel nature, uncertainty, sadness and sighing disappear? At the end of time he will, but not right now. Holy people suffer and die.

How does he Jesus defeat chaotic and cruel nature, bodily sicknesses, disappointments, broken relationships, uncertainty? How does he change our perception of God?

He dies this by changing our perception of who we can be. He shows us a way to be truly human, and in doing so he shows us the glory of God. Jesus changes our perception of hardships, and gives us a new way of reacting to them. He changes our perception of who our enemy is! Who is our enemy? Sin. When we read the psalms about the enemy attacking, right after that we read the psalm that says, “against thee only have I sinned.” We read in the hymnography of Theophany a prayer that God will, “deliver us from every gloomy and harmful transgression.” My own sin is my only real enemy, since God is more mighty than all other enemies.

It is through obedience to his father, through humility and through love that Jesus conquers the fearful and chaotic nature. He conquers our fear of nature by being fearless. He conquers our mindless reactivity to hardships by being mindful in the midst of hardships. He conquers our fear and weakness by being steadfast and faithful. He conquers our sins by his death on the cross. One day he will also make all suffering to cease, but in the mean time he has given us a path of existence that is not enslaved to the cruelty of nature.

Jesus is determined to love us and to transform us into people who love God and love one another. And by giving us the example of his ministry, starting with his birth and going through the road to the cross, and by ascending to heaven, he shows us a way to wander. This is how to be truly alive. This is how to walk in the midst of the Jordan. By pouring out his Holy Spirit on us, he gives us the ability to walk together with him.

Jesus makes hardships and uncertainty the context for loving and serving others. Disappointments and grief become a context in which to praise God defiantly, and give to others out of our poverty. Trauma and fear and guilt are the context in which to worship God, and encourage our neighbor. They are not the context of defeat but the context of victory for the person who, like Jesus, obeys the Father and single-mindedly wishes to love his neighbor.

The Troparion of Theophany says, “When Thou O Lord was baptized in the Jordan the worship of the Trinity was made manifest …” It is easy how the reality of the Trinity is made manifest. The Father speaks, the Spirit descends like a dove, and the Son is being baptized and recognized by the Father and the Spirit. One, two, three. But so far we have only described the existence of Trinity, not the worship of the Trinity.

The worship of the Trinity is how Jesus offers his life as a sacrifice to the Father. The worship of the Trinity happens when you and I take up our cross and follow Christ. The voice of the Father says, “listen to him.” But in this episode Jesus is hardly saying anything. What shall we listen to? His obedience. His humility. His example. Listen to how the worship of the Trinity is made manifest in the self-denial of Christ as he begins the ministry which will take him to the cross, to the grave, and then give unto all of us a resurrection.

Sunday before Christmas: the Genealogy of Christ

The Gospel reading today tells us of the genealogy of Jesus. In the ancient world, this was an attempt to prove who Jesus is. If you could show that someone came from important and bona fide ancestors, that implied, in the minds of the ancients, that the person himself was important and trustworthy. This Gospel reading tells us who Jesus is.

Who are you?

Today we have in our minds two babies. We just witnessed the baptism of a baby boy. And we are awaiting the birth of the baby Jesus in a few days. When we put the two babies side by side, this enables us to see the true identity of all Christians. We have “put on Christ.”

In Orthros we read the following,

Make ready, Bethlehem, Eden hath opened unto all. Ephratha, prepare thyself, for now, behold, the Tree of Life hath blossomed forth in the cave from the holy Virgin. Her womb hath proved a true spiritual Paradise,wherein the divine and saving Tree is found, and as we eat thereof we shall all live, and shall not die as did Adam. For Christ is born now to raise the image that had fallen aforetime.

The priest reads this same text every time he celebrates the Proskomedie (the service of preparing the bread and wine before the liturgy). We use the image of Christmas when we are preparing to receive the body and blood of Christ, and the bread is seen almost like the infant Jesus who enters the world at the Great Entrance. But what do we do in the Great Entrance? We march right back into the altar, and place the bread on the Holy Table and remember the death of Christ, and his resurrection. We show that the birth of Christ is the beginning of the trajectory leading to his death. That is who Christ is.

Today many people insist that their identity is found in what they want to do. Desire determines identity. What we can buy becomes who we are. What I like to eat and drink, which music I listen to, which brands I use, what I can consume becomes, for me, an identity issue. Identity becomes defined by how much I earn, what I can make or create or build up, how well-known and respected I am, who I love and what country, ethnicity or culture I come from.

In fact, none of these are identities. None of these things can give me any being or personhood or identity at all. They are all hopeless and tragic delusions, false identities, false selves. This is a way to lose our identity, to alienate everyone around us; a way of destroying ourselves.

What I desire is not who I am. What God desires for me, the ministry he gives me, that is who I can be. The Antitrisagion (the song we sang instead of “Holy God”) for today, since we celebrated a baptism during the liturgy, says, “as many as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ.” Putting on Christ means living a righteous life of self-control, humility, repentance, service, love and empathy. Put on his way of life to be one with him.

Christ is born, glorify him by putting on Christ and following him to the cross. May the joy of the Nativity give you a vision of a new life in Christ.

Luke 14: Excuses for not attending the feast

LUKE 14:16-24

The Lord said this parable: “A man once gave a great banquet, and invited many; and at the time of the banquet he sent his servant to say to those who had been invited, ‘Come; for all is now ready.’ But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said to him, ‘I have bought a field, and I go out and see it; I pray you, have me excused.’ And another said, ‘I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I must go to examine them; I pray you, have me excused.’ And another said, ‘I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.’ So the servant came and reported this to his master. Then the householder in anger said to his servant, ‘Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and maimed and blind and lame.’ And the servant said, ‘Sir, what you commanded has been done, and there is still room.’ And the master said to the servant, ‘Go out to the highways and hedges, and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled. For I tell you, none of those men who were invited shall taste my banquet. For many are called, but few are chosen.'”

ST. PAUL’S SECOND LETTER TO TIMOTHY 1:8-18

TIMOTHY, my son, do not be ashamed then of testifying to our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel in the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not in virtue of our works but in virtue of his own purpose and the grace which he gave us in Christ Jesus ages ago, and now has manifested through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. For this gospel I was appointed a preacher and apostle and teacher, and therefore I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that Day what has been entrusted to me. Follow the pattern of the sound words which you have heard from me, in the faith and love which are in Christ Jesus; guard the truth that has been entrusted to you by the Holy Spirit who dwells within us. You are aware that all who are in Asia turned away from me, and among them Phygelos and Hermogenes. May the Lord grant mercy to the household of Onesiphoros, for he often refreshed me; he was not ashamed of my chains, but when he arrived in Rome he searched for me eagerly and found me – may the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that Day and you well know all the service he rendered at Ephesos.

Today’s gospel is a parable about the people of Israel at the time of Jesus. Jesus is telling a story of how Israel rejects the Son of God. It is interesting to read this story today, when we are also remembering the Holy Patriarchs of the Old Testament, as well as the prophets; all the righteous of those ages up to the time of Christ. The Synaxarion this morning told us that when Christ came the law of fear was exchanged for the law of love. Jesus called his people to set aside their understanding of who God is: to exchange a view of God as this irrational and irritable tyrant, of God as an abusive and domineering father figure, and instead realize that the enmity between man and God is entirely of man’s own making. God is love. God invites us to a feast. Jesus tells us about the people who reject the law of love. He uses three metaphors in the three excuses offered by the three men who refuse the invitation to the feast.

The first man gives the excuse of having bought land. This is a metaphor for the land of Israel, the nationhood, the tribalism that Jesus observed in his fellow Israelites. It refers to a narrow us-centred religion which also has a very narrow understanding of God. The God they were imagining has a very narrow focus: one small group of people to the exclusion of all the others. These people became irate when Jesus loves outsiders, whether it was foreigners or those who, like Zacchaeus, were considered to be unredeemable. The man whose excuse for not attending the feast is his purchase of land does not understand that the whole earth is God’s.

The second man gave the excuse of having just bought oxen. This is a metaphor for the animals offered in the temple. This represents the liturgical legalism and ritualism of the Jewish cult in Jesus’ day. He criticized his fellow Jews for straining the gnat but swallowing the camel when they multiplied rules only to make it seem lawful to do that which his clearly immoral and unethical. Religious observance was believed to be a means of forcing God to give them back their kingdom. God, in their view, would have no choice but to restore the kingdom because the people had perfected the art of following the letter of the law. This God they are imagining is petty and easily offended for no good reason. He is a touchy tyrant.

These same people were offended with Jesus who suggested that the sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath. They could not conceive of a God who would do anything for them that they did not earn, and yet they believed they could insult God’s intelligence by creating legal loopholes that flew in the face of the spirit of the law. What kind of God did they actually believe in?

The final excuse that was offered was marriage. A man declines to attend the feast because he has recently married. This is a metaphor for those who have deluded themselves into thinking that they have arrived. It is realized eschatology. It is a belief that all the questions have been answered. God is almost not needed. It is bride who does not need a bridegroom, because she has already married another. Israel did not think it needed Jesus.

In fact, such toxic pride, is actually based on the notion that God cannot be relied upon. If you don’t think God will help you, then it’s up to you, and you better do it yourself. This kind of religion is based on the feelings of insecurity, fear and betrayal. They were incensed when Jesus suggested to them that they had not reached the heights, and the kingdom of God was not even in the direction they were headed. He says, “blessed are the meek,” and, “blessed are the poor.” What he was asking of them was to honestly face the fact that they did not feel that God cared for them.

We all give the same excuse for not following Christ. Our first excuse is similar to the one in the gospel story. We also have a narrow view of God, not believing that he can forgive us. Even if we hope he can forgive us, we certainly do not easily believe he can heal and change us. We fear that God cannot give us what we need when we take on the daunting task of facing our own faults and shortcomings. God says, “be Holy as I am holy,” but we do not believe it is possible. We lie to ourselves and pretend not to have any sin. We convince ourselves that there will always be a later time, before the end of our lives, when we can repent. Because of our fear and distrust towards God, we neglect the calling we have to serve others. By failing to equip ourselves for service through the process of cleansing our minds, we are not equipped and ready to serve others. When our mind is full of self-deceit and fear, we cannot respond to the needs of others with courageous prayer, compassion, with forgiveness. Fundamentally, this is a failure on our own part to understand that God has bigger plans, and a bigger agenda than simply either condemning or forgiving my individual rule-breaking. We focus on the relationship of the God of the universe to one individual person, and pretend that the problem that needs to be solved is God’s petty anger and wrath towards me alone. Our focus is microscopic. We are afraid of being caught.

God is concerned with the salvation of the world. He shows us, through today’s gospel, that the problem that salvation solves is not God’s petty wrath, but man’s petty excuse-making. God does not need to be placated. Man needs to come to the feast.

By confessing my sins and accepting the forgiveness and deliverance God offers, even when it requires me to humble myself, I allow my focus to widen my focus from the narrow and scope of me-and-God exclusively, to the much wider scope of us-and-God.

The second temptation was to rely on the efficacy of rituals and rules. We fear that God will only ever love and protect us if we perform all his rituals correctly, and we delude ourselves into thinking we are capable of accomplishing this. We begin to nit-pick on others in the church. You have not bowed correctly. You have not crossed yourself at the appointed time, in the appointed place. We resent the innocence of the children, because they are not bound with the same irrational fear of God that binds us adults. They spill the prosphora on the floor. They are not quiet. We develop irrational soul-crushing expectations of children, of those who are weaker or more vulnerable, though we have every reason to know these expectations are unreasonable. We also put certain people in the church up on a pedestal, creating an image of the perfection that we have deluded ourselves into believing is possible. We begin to make our music a performance instead of a prayer. It must be just-so. Worship become production and experience, not sacrifice. Whereas the joy that trusting God brings can cause us to observe the good-order of the church services with love and care for others, in this mindset of fear and anger, all our attention is taken up with resenting others’ failure to adhere to a myriad of rules (most of which, by the way, are small-t traditions that have no basis in canon law or scripture). Having deprived ourselves of joy by our lack of faith, we set out to destroy as much of others’ joy as we can.

The final temptation we face is that which Jesus indicated through the man who sent the excuse that he had just gotten married. How many of us become married to Orthodoxy, but not at all in the sense that God intended? In the current-day Orthodox culture the temptation is, especially, to sit behind our computer screen and discuss the correct Orthodox position on all kinds of controversies ranging from church politics to actual politics. We hoard answers, believing that if I know all the right answers then the world will be put back into balance. If I (little and insignificant as I am) can win all the arguments, then the world will be saved. I am married to a false bridegroom, and he is me. This is a vision of realizable eschatology, if it is not a vision of realized eschatology.

We become irate when our assumptions are challenged. We become indignant at any teacher or priest who would simply ask us to consider for a moment why we assume what we do. We resent those whose interpretation is too lax or too liberal. Some of us resent the stricter interpretations more. These are two sides of the same coin. When we ask ourselves, “how can they do/say that?” we do not really want to know the answer. We are closed off to empathy. We fear that if we begin to understand and empathize with those who are other, God will abandon us and allow us to become as deluded as they are. We do not trust God to do that which we pray for at nearly every service! We pray things like “establish us in the way of thy commandments” or “enlighten our minds through the light of thy gospel teachings,” but we do not believe that He who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it. Therefore, we isolate from all whose opinion is different. We build a controversy-free cocoon around ourselves and perhaps around our families in which we do not need to trust God.

But let us remember what we read in the epistle today. “For this gospel I was appointed a preacher and apostle and teacher, and therefore I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that Day what has been entrusted to me.”

Read carefully. Who guards the teachings of the gospel, according to St. Paul? Is it St. Paul himself? No. It is Christ who guards. “he is able to guard … what has been intrusted to me.” The survival of the Church is guaranteed by the Christ, not by us. We struggle to cleanse ourselves of sin, so that we can better cooperate with the work of Christ, through the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, which keeps the Church on the true path.

What if we stop giving our excuses and actually agree to attend the feast that is offered by God? In the other version of this parable (Matthew 22), it is more explicit that the feast is a wedding feast. Currently, we have a false bridegroom, but when we come to our senses, we come to celebrate the marriage of the true bridegroom.

If we take the story seriously, we see that the wedding feast is celebrated by a company of blind and lame guests. How can we join their number? By accepting the truth of our own blindness and lameness. Any sin that I am hiding, that I am too afraid to deal with, that is something which also prevents me from loving others and having compassion on their weakness. That is my first priority. The Paschal canon says, “Let us purify our senses and we shall behold Christ, radiant with the unapproachable light of the Resurrection, and shall hear Him saying clearly, “Rejoice!” As we sing the triumphant hymns!”

Do you want to see Christ the bridegroom? Purify your senses through the confession of your sins, by following Christ to the cross. The cross is the lifestyle of humility and admission of failure. It is the lifestyle of forgiving those who do not deserve forgiveness. When we follow Jesus to the cross, the only handwriting is the accusation nailed to the cross above our heads, not the accusations that we would like to write down against others. When we allow only accusations against ourselves to be heard, the writing above us on the top of our crosses is truth, but in a way that no one expected. The truth of the accusation is also a confession of the truth of God’s promise. We will join Jesus in His royal priesthood; Jesus, above whose head was hung a sign reading, “king of the Jews.”

We say to ourselves, therefore, “I am blind and I do not have all the answers. Therefore, I will repent of my own sins. I am surrounded by wounded and suffering people, therefore our shared pain and suffering is the grounds for our companionship, comradery, our communion.” God wants hurt people to be present at his wedding feast. He invites us to be present to the pain of others by revealing to us our own pain.

In order to realize the hope of this message, find someone at coffee hour after church, and listen to their story. Truly hear where they are. Do not fix. Do not teach. Do not judge. Just listen. Maybe you will find answers for all the times when you wondered, “how could someone think that way.” Be a fellow blind man. I don’t have the answers. Jesus has the answers.

Give thanks to God for the work he is doing in the people whose journey is different to your own. Even though their perspective is different, pray, “Jesus, thank you for the love and compassion you have for that person. Help me to use your traditions, your statutes, to develop more love and compassion.”

Repentance is the way to discover a loving God who is not petty or narrow. We find the freedom to have real genuine communion with all the other blind and lame beggars at the wedding feast.

Luke 13 The Empathy of the Incarnation

At that time, Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. And there was a woman who had a spirit of infirmity for eighteen years; she was bent over and could not fully straighten herself. And when Jesus saw her, he called her and said to her, “Woman, you are freed from your infirmity.” And he laid his hands upon her, and immediately she was made straight, and she praised God. But the ruler of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the sabbath, said to the people, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be healed, and not on the sabbath day.” Then the Lord answered him, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to water it? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the sabbath day?” As he said this, all his adversaries were put to shame; and all the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him.

Luke 13:10-17

In today’s gospel we hear about a woman who for eighteen years could not stand up straight. Perhaps she had scoliosis or sciatica or a ruptured disk or some kind of arthritis. I would imagine that she experienced great pain, and a great deal of social isolation and sadness.

What is striking is the lack of empathy on the part of the ruler of the synagogue. Empathy is when we see the pain of another person and we decide to simply have fellowship with them and be with them in their pain. Empathy is not trying to solve their problems for them, not trying to control them, not trying to impose rules on them. “You are in pain. I care about you. I will be with you in your time of pain.”

Naturally, there is a time to offer help and relief. But many problems cannot be solved by you. One of the two main reasons we neglect empathy are fear and shame. The ruler of the synagogue is afraid that God will be angry if the Sabbath is broken.

When I encounter a person who is grieving, perhaps I am afraid what will happen if I open myself to grief. Will my own feelings of grief and pain overtake me? Will it be too much to bear? I shut myself off to the feelings of other people. I try to “cheer them up.” I try to tell them, “you don’t have it so bad, think of the people who have it worse.” When I am afraid I don’t want to hear about your pain.

The other thing that kills empathy is shame. When I feel that my own worth as a person is in doubt. When I secretly believe that no one can love me. When I believe that my own weakness and vulnerability are signs that I am unlovable, I do everything to hide from my own weakness. I don’t let anyone in.

Therefore, I look at a person in pain and I think, “I don’t want anything to do with that weakness and vulnerability. My own survival depends on me understanding that the weak and vulnerable are not worthy of love. I survive by hating weakness and vulnerability”

Empathy is born out of the realization that God loves us unconditionally, especially when we are weak and vulnerable. This is the message of Jesus when he says, “Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to water it? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the sabbath day?” He is showing that God sees us with the same compassion as the farmer sees his animals. A farmer does not hate or judge his animals. A farmer does not make his donkey feel ashamed for needing water. The farmer provides for his animals because he understands their needs.

God also provides for our needs out of love and concern for us. He gives us the Sabbath rest for our sake, not for his sake. God gives us the church services for our sake, not for his sake. The traditions of when to make the sign of the cross, when to bow, when to do this and that – those are all for OUR sake, not God’s.

And so the soul-crushing legalism and slavery to rules, and over-concern with the minute details that we often observe in the church – those are all man-made and sinful and prideful and life-destroying fables.

We keep order in the church because it makes for a better worship space and a better experience of God’s presence. We keep order in the church so that our worship is not the arbitrary product of my wants and preferences or your wants and preferences. We keep order in the church to show honor and love to God, and to show great honor and respect to our fellow Christian who needs an orderly calm place to pray.

But our rules are not about avoiding the anger of God. Our order of service, what hymns we sing, when, the pageantry of the liturgies and services – it is all made for our needs, not for God’s needs because God does not need anything. We should never be so afraid of doing something wrong that we judge and scold and pester other people in the church. We should never be so ashamed of being vulnerable that we resent the children for being care-free, and for being unable to follow all the rules.

Jesus shows us that God knows our weaknesses – and for the person who is deathly afraid of weakness it is a terrifying gospel to hear. You have weakness. The secret is out. You are weak and you need to be shown compassion. God loves you in your state of weakness and vulnerability. God does not see you as unlovable because of your weakness and vulnerability.

Only by God’s grace can we slowly internalize this message. Only by the gift of the Holy Spirit, and by participation in the prayers of the church, by reading and hearing the gospel, by receiving the body and blood of Christ, can we take baby steps towards a state of mind which is loving and empathetical. You can only achieve empathy by learning to receive the free and bountiful love of God.

But you can also fake empathy. Fake it ‘til you make it. You can do what empathy does, and hope that your heart will grow into empathy. Visit those who are suffering and mourning, visit those who are lonely, or just having a bad day. And instead of trying to “cheer them up” or argue with them about whether their pain is really all that bad, tell them, “I hear you saying you are sad, (or lonely, or angry, or whatever emotion) and I am with you.”

“I hear your pain and I am with you.” That is the incarnational model. Jesus Christ came from heaven to dwell amongst us. To be with us. His power to heal us came from his love for us, and his willingness to remain with us through whatever pain that involved.

When you and I give freely of our presence to others, when we pray for them instead of bossing them around and creating a stack of rules, then the healing presence of Jesus Christ becomes a reality in our community.

Brethren, I, a prisoner for the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all lowliness and meekness, with patience, forbearing one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all, who is above all and through all and in all. But grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift.

EPHESIANS 4:1-7

St. Paul says we were called to hope. We are called not to be enslaved to legalism and the memorization of rules. We are called to hope. And hope leads us to obedience. And obedience gives birth to love. A hopeless obedience leads to death. A hope-filled obedience is the gift of God.

Paul writes that we have a bond of peace. Bond hear means something like a set of handcuffs. Being chained with shackles. We are handcuffed with peace towards each other.

We should be eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

We are obligated to keep a peaceful demeanor towards one another (not a nagging legalism, and over-attentiveness to what others are doing wrong). We are tied up with the obligation to maintain peace.

Lord Jesus Christ our God give us the gift of receiving your unconditional love. It is a terrible gift to receive because we don’t think we are worthy. We struggle against the lavishness of your love for us. Help us to accept this love so that we can show it to others.

The Rich Young Ruler, Luke 18:18-27

At that time, a ruler came to Jesus and asked him, “Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honour your father and mother.’ ” And he said, “All these I have observed from my youth.” And when Jesus heard it, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” But when he heard this he became sad, for he was very rich. Jesus looking at him said, “How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God! For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Those who heard it said, “Then who can be saved?” But he said, “What is impossible with men is possible with God.

What’s the point? Being free enough to give – that is the gift Jesus gives.

In this story a man comes to Jesus and says, “Good teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”

Jesus says, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.”

Who is God in this story? It’s Jesus. Jesus IS God. Jesus does not say, “do not call me good because God is the only one who is good.” Jesus says, “Why do you call me good?” Jesus knows that this man suspects Jesus is God himself. And Jesus wants to push the man to go further.

This man who comes to Jesus wants to receive things. He wants the secret code to get eternal life. He wants a backstage pass. He wants into the VIP section, where the cool kids hang out. It’s like you might see in the movies a night club and there are like 100 people standing in line to get in, and a celebrity drives up in their limo, and get let in ahead of everyone else. No waiting in line for Beyoncé.

Maybe he was even prepared to pay for it. He knows that Jesus has something special, and this man just wants some of it. But Jesus wants this man to stop thinking about what he can buy or get or inherit. Jesus wants the man to give.

He says sell everything  you have. All of it. Jesus wants this man to find freedom from his possessions. He wants to free this many from the loneliness of having something everyone else wants, and never knowing if your friends like you as much as they like your money. He wants to show this man how good a time you can have waiting in line with everyone else. He wants to give this man community, family, brotherhood, self-respect. And above all he wants him to have a purpose in life.

We can all see ourselves in the young rich man. We come to Jesus to get, and not to give. We come to get an experience of a familiar church service on Sunday. But often we don’t come prepared to give our time, money, and energy to give  to others.

Or we come to church to receive the true facts, the right arguments,

but when we go about our lives during the week, we never give out anything like kind words, prayers and blessings.

A few weeks ago, we read the gospel passage about the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man was the bad guy in the story because he didn’t feed Lazarus. Last week the rich guy was the bad guy because he horded his wealth. Now the rich man is – kind of – the bad guy in this story because he won’t sell his goods and distribute the money to the poor.

“It’s easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”

So all of these Gospel readings basically say that rich people have to help poor people. There’s no way around it. That’s what they’re saying. I would be lying and hiding the truth from you if I didn’t discuss this.

The relationship between rich people and poor people is a really complicated thing. In the earliest church Christians lived in a community that had all possessions and all money in common. That was what was expected. Not only did people give all their money to the church, and live in community with everyone else, they also bought the freedom of slaves. And they took in unwanted children.

In the Roman empire, people would take unwanted children and leave them outside in the woods to die of exposure, or to be eaten by the animals. They reasoned, “if the gods want this child to live, let the gods take care of the child.” This happened more to girls than boys.

Christians would rescue the girls and take on the responsibility of raising the girls. And so there were a large number of women who, ironically, had found their freedom in the church. Because their biological parents gave them up, the women were not under any obligation to marry someone chosen for them. The could choose not to marry, something novel. And in this group of women we see the beginnings of female monasticism.

Salvation for someone who was a slave, and is no longer a slave, or for a child that was rescued from the woods, that kind of salvation is very practical. People felt that God had done a miracle for them. And God had done a miracle for them. But God also did a miracle for the rich people. God freed the rich people in these communities from slavery to their money.

When Jesus says, “it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God,” he doesn’t mean, “God is going to be sitting at the gate of heaven and refusing entry to all the rich people.” He doesn’t say they can’t get into heaven. He says it is hard for them to enter the Kingdom of God. But the Kingdom of God within us, in our midst, it is the Church, the redeemed family of God. It’s not just about where you end up in the afterlife, it’s about what community you enter into now.

It is hard for rich people to find themselves truly a part of same family as the poor. Jesus is saying salvation for the rich is when they are freed form the tyranny of their possessions.

It is truly difficult for rich people to break free. It’s hard to train your mind to think differently. To truly care about other people. To give up power and influence. To give up comfort. To give up financial security.

Jesus knows it’s hard. He is not saying, “you’re not good enough, rich person.” He is saying, “I understand that it seems impossible for you to actually follow me to the cross. But my strength is made perfect in weakness. You are not alone in this struggle. I am with you. And with God it ispossible!

But this takes us back to what we said in the beginning – do we really think Jesus is God? When we really do trust in Jesus we trust that investing our time and money in the church is a good investment for our children, just as good as a stock portfolio, or a trust fund or private schools.

The greatest possession you can have is to do the work of Jesus Christ. The greatest financial freedom you can ever achieve is the freedom to give fearlessly. The greatest success you can ever have is to obey Jesus Christ. The richest people in the world are the ones that know they need God.

I pray that God gives you the gift of feeling like you can’t get through life unless you come to church. I hope God will give your children a deep desire for more church, for more of Jesus.

Today we read from Ephesians:

Brethren, God who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up with him, and made us sit with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith;

Grace here means a gift, a voluntary act of generosity, as opposed to an obligation, as opposed to a contract. God is generous to us, and we should then be generous and give voluntary gifts.

and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God: not because of works, lest any man should boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

What good works of generosity, forgiveness and compassion has God prepared for you today?

This Advent we are supporting a charity that helps recovering addicts. And we are going to pray the serenity prayer, and I want you to think about the second part of the prayer.

The first part is: God grant me the serenity to accept that things I cannot change.

The second part is: and the courage to change the things I can.

What is the thing you can do, thing you can change, to give of your time, your money and your skill set to the church? How much courage is it going to take for you to make that change?

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

If you want to join St. Vincent’s efforts to support Teen Challenge, you can either earmark a check for that fundraising, or contact Rob at Teen Challenge directly: rob.hinz@teenchallenge.ca

Sermon 9th Sunday of Luke

LUKE 12:16-21

The Lord said this parable: “The land of a rich man brought forth plentifully; and he thought to himself, ‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns, and build larger ones; and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; take your ease, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you; and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So is he who lays up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.” As he said these things, he cried out: “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”

The man in today’s gospel was already rich. He had everything he needed already. Therefore, this is not a parable against being prosperous. This is a parable against excess and wastefulness.

What you have will be given to someone else: that is true for all of us. So why not give away the excess now?

What I see in the today’s gospel reading is a toxic and worldly kind of joy. It is a joy that consists in en-joying what feels good right now.

All of us are drawn to something that only gives us momentary satisfaction. All of us have something we feel we have to have right now

But it’s never enough. Never enough of the newest and latest stuff. Never enough control over the people in our lives. Never enough of the arguments and scandals of politics. Never enough TV, food

We all have something that we can never get enough of, and at the same time it is weighing us down and causing us to become cut off from the needs of others.

At Coffee hour we’re going to hear from Rob Hinz about the work that is being done by Teen Challenge with addicts. Teen challenge runs two houses near Saskatoon where people go for a year-long program to recover from addictions.

Today’s gospel reading, made me think of addicts; about the mindset of a person who can never get enough. Recovering addicts know that getting your quick fix only gives us fake joy. Recovering addicts know that the quick fix, the seemingly happy and joyful experience of getting what you are yearning for now, does not give you real joy. They know that people who say they’re just having fun, people who claim that they just like to party, those people are usually not truly happy.

Because recovering addicts understand this they try to find a deeper joy. Some of them call it Serenity. This joy a sober kind of a joy that is joyful because we know that we are weak but Jesus is strong. The sober joy knows that true strength comes from admitting our weakness.

True joy comes from taking an inventory of our character and of our actions, and then admitting to another person the ugly and complicated truth of who we have become. We do that because we trust that God can make us who he wants us to be. This sober joy is real joy.

I remember asking God one day, many years ago, “I want to find a church that is a kind of AA for sinners.” I want to go somewhere where I can confess my sins to someone, and take that kind of “fearless inventory” regularly.

And God answered my prayers. For me, the Orthodox Church is AA for sinners. All sinners. We get to admit that unless Jesus helps us, sin has power over us; that we need help.

The Greek word for confession is also the word for exclaiming and rejoicing. Confession is to joyfully proclaim: God loves me despite these sins. These are the sins I believe God can and will help me to purge out of my life. I trust in God’s love and in his healing, and so I joyfully confess.

The sober and true joy of recovery is to discover what really matters. Feeling a temporary fix of emotion, a fake sense of well-being, giving ourselves a false sense of security: that is me-centred, and it only attempts to fix my first-hand experience.

But when we stop trying to feed the first-hand experience of me, then we are free to discover that the most precious things in life are our relationships. Not me but us. And salvation stops being only about me and God. Salvation begins to be a matter of us and God.

Addicts have often sacrificed their relationships in order to get what they are addicted to. And in recovery they make a list of people they have hurt. They try to make amends. And they try to keep making amends whenever they realize that they have hurt someone. It becomes a lifestyle of relationship and humility. That is true joy. It’s not a WHOOO-HOOO kind of joy. It is a peace that passes understanding.

One of the most advanced levels addiction recovery is when someone has achieved enough sobriety for a long enough period of time, that they begin to reach out and help other people. Eventually someone will become a sponsor and a leader.

The whole enterprise of recovery is others-oriented: I need others, I admit my faults and sins to others, I am supported by others, I make amends to other. Finally, I give back to others.

The peace that passes understanding is a motivating joy. This is a joy that causes us to give the love of Jesus Christ to other people. It is not joy for the sake of feeling joy. It is not ecstasy for the sake of feeling ecstasy.

There are many religions institutions, including many Christian ones who offer lots of happiness and excitement, but whose vision of joy is so distorted by a worldly and me-centred mindset that they end up offering a false joy. There are many loud and boisterous expressions of the Christian faith that promise us an experience. A Christian entertainment experience. They promise that we will be overcome with emotion, sort of transfixed by a spiritual high.

This too is also an un-sober, addictive and me-centred kind of joy. The feeling is always going to fade. The entertainment will one day begin not to have the same effect. When we don’t find a more substantial reason to follow Jesus Christ than emotion and entertainment, one day we will not be able to remember why we were ever following Jesus to begin with. It’s never enough, and never enough, and then one day we can’t get any at all.

The joy that Jesus Christ gives us is not a fleeting experience. The joy that Jesus Christ gives us is a calling to serve him. The joy of Jesus Christ is the joy of following him to the Cross. One of our hymns says, “through the cross, joy has come into all the world.”

The joy of Jesus Christ is the joy of finding our life hidden in his life, which was one long journey to the cross. The true joy of life is the joy of dying to our sins, and living for God. It is a joy that is not predicated on what we get or how we feel; it is a joy that comes from knowing who we are.

I don’t need to treat other people with disrespect and disdain: that’s not who I am anymore. I don’t need to puff up my ego and use material things like a car, an expensive watch, the latest gadgets, just to show people that I’m important. I am a disciple of Jesus Christ. That’s who I am. I don’t need those things. I don’t need to try to make you think I am important. I know who I am. I am a servant of Jesus.

Knowing who we are is what sets us free, not a quick fix of hyped up emotional addiction. Christianity is not a relationship with a God who gives me goodies in the form of feelings, emotions and experiences. Christianity is a relationship with a God who lives in me, who heals the world through me; a God who gives me the words to say at the right moment, and that moment is the moment of martyrdom. St. Stephen was given words to speak by the Holy Spirit when he was facing martyrdom.

This past Friday, in the Orthodox Church, we began the Advent fast. During the Advent Fast we eat vegan food. And we also add fish to our vegan diet during Advent except for Wednesdays and Fridays. We call it a fast, but perhaps when you hear the word, “fast” you think: no food at all.

We do eat food, but we eat less food during Advent. We abstain as much as possible from TV, social media, entertainment. We strive to pray more. We take time for God. We try to cleanse our minds. And very importantly – we increase our giving to the poor.

Fasting is a sacrifice and it’s done together with the other sacrifices of prayer, repentance and almsgiving. As we pray, as we visit people who are lonely, giving of our time and our presence, as we renew our commitment to Jesus Christ. We increase our giving because unlike the man in today’s gospel we know that we only ever have anything at all because God gives it to us.

Everything God has given us is given in order for us to live a life of service, in order for us to live a life of loving our brother and sister,

of taking up our cross and following Christ. The food we eat is the food that will give us energy to carry our crosses. The house we live in and the bed we sleep in are given to us in order to nurture us as we carry our crosses. We carry a joyful cross, knowing that true life is restored relationships

True life is sobriety. True life is knowing who we are, and what we are called to in Christ. True life is placing the ten talents God has given us on the table, and then taking out ten more talents, and saying, “Master, I have doubled your money.” True life is the hope and the longing to hear the words, “good and faithful servant.”

Think about how much you might be able to give to our alms project this Advent. Because if we are realistic we know that we are all struggling to recover from an addiction to something.

I may be addicted to anger and rage. I may be addicted to politics. I may be addicted to a sense of self-righteousness and legalism. I may be addicted to my emotions. I may be addicted to my pride. I may be addicted to controlling other people. I may be addicted to self-pity. I may be addicted to my image and my ego.

This Advent we are going to share from the resources God has given us, in order to walk together and struggle together with our brothers and sisters who are trying to recover from things like drug and alcohol addiction.

And we will send them a greeting asking them to pray for us in our recovery.

May God give us a vision today of the truly joyful, sober and life-giving journey of following Jesus Christ who did not come to entertain us but to send us out to the nations to proclaim the good news.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference!

(If you want to join St. Vincent’s efforts to support Teen Challenge, you can either earmark a check for that fundraising, or contact Rob at Teen Challenge directly: rob.hinz@teenchallenge.ca.)

8th Sunday of Luke, The Good Samaritan

LUKE 10:25-37

At that time, a lawyer stood up to put Jesus to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read?” And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have answered right; do this, and you will live.” But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbour?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion, and went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; then he set him on his own beast and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved neighbour to the man who fell among the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed mercy on him.” And Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.

The man in our story today is in pain, is humiliated and very angry. He feels lonely because he is all alone, out in the middle of nowhere. He has no hope of getting justice. The people that took his money and his possessions are long gone. No one can get them back. And he’s probably going to die.

In his humiliation, something even worse happens. One of his own people – a priest – walks by but refuses to help. Jerusalem, in those days, was a pretty small town by today’s standards. This man would have known the priest by name. He thought they were friends. Brothers.  Someone he knew by name refused to help him as he was dying.

He is learning a very painful lesson. Relationships he thought he could trust in; that which he thought was reliable wasn’t reliable at all. He thought someone cared about him but they didn’t.

Well that was just one person. Surely someone else would care about him and help him? A Levite comes by and does the same thing: walks by on the other side of the road. The robbery victim is feeling hopeless, looking death in the face, humiliated, defeated. He almost wants death to come now. It would be a relief.

And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse something even worse happens!A Samaritan comes by. The man in our story is lying there helpless, and sees one of those people!!

And the man starts to think – oh great! Now I get to be humiliated in front of my enemies. This Samaritan is going to make fun of meHe’s going to delight in my misfortune. He’s going to come over and kick me while I’m down. He’s going to have such a good time because a JEW is beaten. Please, God, let me die now!!!

But the Samaritan doesn’t do that, he comes over to help. And that is the unkindest cut of all. It is unbearable when we have to accept help from people that we think are beneath us.

The man in our story is part of a culture that thinks the Samaritans are fakes, phoneys. The Jews thought that the Samaritans were only pretend Israelites. Wannabes. They were counterfeits. They didn’t count. They didn’t know what they were talking about.

The Samaritans said that God’s mountain was one place. And the Jews said that God’s mountain was somewhere else. In the mind of the Jews, the Samaritans were wrong they wouldn’t listen.

And now the man in our story, who is a Jew, has to decide: is it better to refuse this Samaritan’s help and die here on the side of the road? Would I rather die or accept help from this Samaritan?

I don’t think it was an easy choice. I think it was probably the hardest thing he had to endure that day. Sometimes working with people with whom we disagree is the hardest thing in our life. It demands more humility than we can muster on our own To work together with people who have hurt us, people who we have tried to reason with – but to no avail.  It is even harder than being beaten to death or abandoned by people we thought we could trust.

Capitulating to the reality of evil is actually easier because it requires nothing of us. I don’t have to be wise or virtuous in order to see another person’s faults. I don’t have to know Jesus Christ to understand that the world is a cold, cold place. Seeing that dark truth doesn’t require anything of me.

But working together with someone that I think is beneath me – that is pretty hard. Letting someone help me when I think I have so much to teach them – wow that’s hard!

“That guy doesn’t know the first thing about …” And now I’m going to die if I don’t accept his help and get along with him. I might even have to say thank you!!

I want to kind of press pause on the story at this point. We’re going to kind of freeze the frame and look at the moment of decision: do I accept help or not? He has every right to stay where he is He could do that. Maybe he gambles and thinks that the next Jew who comes by will help him. That’s also an option.

The medicine for our sins is sometimes a very terrible medicine to swallow. The medicine for our pride and judgment might be that we have to listen to people you don’t want to listen to.  The medicine for the lies we tell ourselves is to face the truth. The medicine for my darkest secrets could be that I share them with a trusted confessor.

Taking a sober look at who I have become is difficult. By doing that, I agree to take responsibility for changing. And that might be a very scary thing.

Some of us suffer from the illness of a misconception of the Christian Faith. Some of us have envisioned Christian faith in a way that only relies on the judgment of outsiders, a Christian Faith that centres on memorization of facts and rules and arguments. The counterfeit Christian faith of legalism teaches us that love is weak, and that judgment is a virtue.

That so-called faith needs the medicine of humility and patience. That so-called faith needs the medicine of self-examination, of learning to pray more and speak less, the medicine of working in silence instead of being a busy body.

Often the bitter medicine, comes to us in the form of a person. The person we need to respect. The person we need to show patience to. The people in the world who need our prayers, compassion and empathy, not our opinions.  We will not be truly Christian until we find a way to give that to them.

We all have a bitter medicine to take. And like the man in our story today, when we look at the medicine, at the one who will help us, and shrink back, recoiling in disgust, we are at a moment of decision. We can refuse the help. That is an option.

It is also a pretty big gamble to hope that someone else is going to come by and help. It’s a pretty big gamble to say to Jesus Christ, “I don’t need your medicine right now, maybe I will later.”

What if, one day, you stop wanting any help at all?

We need to nurture the inner motivation and inclination to seek God’s help. That inner motivation is like a plant that needs to be watered with the tears of repentance.

How many times do we say, every liturgy, “Help us, save us, have mercy on us and keep us, oh God, by thy grace?” How many times do we say that?

I think we say that because we are in dire need of help. We are all sinners and we need help really badly. That is why God sends us Samaritans – and now I’m using the Samaritan as a metaphor for the hard work we have to do to confront our own sins – God sends these to us because the hard road of taking up our cross and following Christ is the only road to true life.

Now here’s the kicker: you might be my Samaritan! I might be your Samaritan. I might be the person you need  But the person you wish to God you didn’t need. You might be the only chance I have, but I have such a hard time deciding if it is worth it.

I want to tell you another story about a different Samaritan. This time the Samaritan is a woman.  And this woman has made a lot of mistakes in life. This Samaritan woman has made so many mistakes that she can’t go get water at the well with everyone else. They will drive her away if she tries.  Everyone else goes to get water from the well early in the morning when it’s not yet hot out.  Or late in the afternoon when it has cooled off. But not in the noon-day sun.

This woman has to go out of the village to the well at noon so she doesn’t meet anyone. And this particular day Jesus is sitting at the well. Jesus asks her for help. Jesus who holds the whole of creation in the palm of his hand asks for help. He asks her for water.

Jesus doesn’t do this because he needs her help. But he knows that if he esteems her, and believes in her potential to be his servant She can be saved. Her whole family can be saved. So even though Jesus doesn’t need her help he still asks for it.

Jesus is not prevented from accepting the help of a Samaritan even though Samaritans are wrong or misguided.

Jesus is not wishy-washy. He speaks the truth and says, “Salvation is of the Jews.” But Jesus doesn’t need to defeat the Samaritan woman. He doesn’t make her admit that her people are wrong.  He says: one day we’re not going to worship in this place or that place. Jesus allows her to learn slowly.

The most important thing for Jesus is that people are saved. That no one is left out or left behind. He is willing to do anything to include the Samaritan woman; the sinful, misguided, confused woman. Jesus wants her to be a member of His family and of his Church.

When Jesus does that, the woman who was so ashamed and ostracized that she had to go to the well in the heat of the noon-day sun, runs into the village, and tells everyone about Jesus. All of them find Jesus, and they forget to judge her. They forget to fight with her because they’re too busy being saved by Jesus Christ.

The greatest motivation to take our medicine and to accept the healing of Jesus is our pain. The two Samaritans in our two stories today – they are both in a lot of pain. That is the place where Jesus meets us.

When I am angry, I find relief by confiding in someone about the pain behind my anger. This is my pain which is causing me to feel anger. When I want to judge and control other people, when I feel a sense of panic because my legalistic rules are being transgressed, I have the freedom in Christ to look at the pain that is behind that counterfeit faith: the pain of ambiguity and uncertainty, the pain of not belonging, the pain of disappointment with others. I have the freedom to see that pain for what it is.

Jesus said to the Samaritan Woman, “If you knew who I am you would ask me for water! For living water.”

Remember who Jesus is and tell him about the pain that is causing your anger and judgment, or whatever other spiritual sickness may have afflicted you. And he who saved not only the Samaritan woman but her whole community Is powerful enough to give you his love and strength. He will call you to use your experience of pain as a way to have compassion on others. Jesus can help you to use your experience of pain to bless other people.

That is the good news that the story of the Good Samaritan tells us. Since Jesus cannot heal the healthy person we pretend to be (as that person does not exist), true freedom is found in bringing the pain-ridden and suffering person we are to Christ. That is where healing begins.

Lazarus and the Rich Man

LUKE 16:19-31

The Lord said, “There was a rich man, who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazaros, full of sores, who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table; moreover the dogs came and licked his sores. The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s bosom. The rich man also died and was buried; and in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes, and saw Abraham far off and Lazaros in his bosom. And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy upon me, and send Lazaros to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in anguish in this flame.’ But Abraham said, ‘Son, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazaros in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us.’ And he said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’ But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses, and the prophets; let them hear them.’ And he said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if some one goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to them, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced if some one should rise from the dead.’

The story is telling us to: Take the opportunity to do good while you have it.

Lazarus is so hungry he “wants to eat the crumbs that fall from the rich man’s table” – how hungry do you have to be to long for crumbs?

You have to be really vindictive to deny people the crumbs that you don’t need or want. We can easily understand the evil and dark-heartedness of denying food or material goods to people when we don’t need them for ourselves. And yet we also deny people many things that we ourselves don’t need.

That is what is going on when we are judging other people. You need compassion and understanding. You need empathy. You need the benefit of the doubt. But I won’t give it to you. I don’t gain anything by denying you that respect. But I am denying it to you anyway.

When we read today about the rich man denying Lazarus the poor man even the crumbs that fall of the table, we should consider that the crumbs do not just represent material things, they represent immaterial things as well.

When we read about bread in words spoken by Jesus, we should immediately think of communion: the bread of life. The crumbs that fall off the table are small pieces of communion. They are small every-day pieces of God’s love that we can give to people. They are the presence of God that people long and yearn for.

For example, the lady at the bank who isn’t so helpful. God can fill my heart with love for her so that I pray for her, silently, in my heart, instead of judging her. Even if she doesn’t deserve it, you can speak to her with respect and kindness. That is like giving the crumbs to Lazarus.

Or perhaps my child’s teacher at school. Maybe she’s too strict and gives your child too much homework – God can fill my heart with love for her so that I can tell her “thank you for all your hard work”. God shows us that like Lazarus, many of the people around us are hurting.

It’s easy to cut ourselves off from strangers. It is easy to feel that, “I don’t know this person, how much can I really bless them?”

Giving out these crumbs of the communion with God is the job of priests, and in the metaphorical sense I am describing today, we are all priests. This is the distribution of communion that belongs to the priesthood of all believers.

When we judge others, when we deny others respect, we are not only denying them something. We are denying ourselves the opportunity to embody that priesthood. We are setting aside our calling and our inheritance, and locking ourselves out of the Kingdom of Heaven.

But remember that Lazarus is hungry even for the crumbs on the floor. The strangers and half-acquaintances in our lives are starving for just a crumb of the love that God has given to us in our Christian faith. Even a crumb can be life-giving.

If I told you your salvation is to be found in serving others, you might go out and try to find someone to serve, and might end up heartbroken because there is so much suffering in the world and you are not able to significantly diminish it. You can work your whole life at serving those who suffer, and in the end, there will be just as many suffering people; more every day. Are you going to give every orphan a home? Are you going to feed every starving person? If you look at the suffering in the world you will learn that you have no power.

You have no power, but God does have power.

When did we see God at his most powerful? What is the most powerful thing God has done? Dying on the cross. That is the glorious power of God: the powerlessness and weakness of a love which is steadfast and so powerful that it can recreate the world.

The power of Jesus is his trust in the Father. Jesus trusts his Father and he loves us, and so he dies and breaks down the iron gates of hell.

We are all the rich man, and we need the poor man Lazarus. When we trust in God, when we learn to love our neighbour we become powerful in the way that God is powerful. We gain the power of love.

The name Lazarus (originally Eleazar) means “God helps.” Who did God want to help? He wanted to help the rich man, so he sent him Lazarus.

God wants to help you, which is why he sends you people in your life that are difficult, hurting and dysfunctional, infuriating and pathetic and needy; people who are blind and deaf to their own misery and the misery of others; people who want something from you but seem to have nothing to give you. God is helping you by giving you someone like that to love and serve.

Lord Jesus Christ, our God, you are sitting outside my gate, asking for a crumb from my table. Give me a watchful and loving heart so that I do not pass you by. Help me to receive the gift of the wounded people around me, and to find the Kingdom of Heaven.

Amen.