Michael Seiler

Tag: Loving Neighbor

  • That Your Joy May Be Complete

    In today’s Gospel, we see once again John’s emphasis on Love: loving our neighbors, loving one another, even to the point that we might lay down our lives for a friend. Jesus says that we are to do this, to love one another so that our joy may be complete! This commandment to love one another: its intention is to bring us joy! There’s several things in this passage that we need to understand, the first of which is that the commandment to love one another is just another way of saying “Love your neighbor.” And, if we remember the story of the Good Samaritan, we realize that our neighbor is everyone who is not us. 

    The second thing about this passage is the definition of the word “complete.” It brings with it the ideas of “maturity,” of “wholeness,” and of the “full realization of some form of potential.” In other words, it doesn’t just mean “finished,” but that something has accomplished the purpose for which God created it.

    So, what God is saying is that our Joy will attain the purpose that God has intended for us, if – and when – we love one another. It’s a very simple commandment, but it is not always easy to implement.

    In the sermon on the mount, Jesus had even told his disciples to “Love their enemies,” and to “Pray for those that persecute you.” Very simple commandments, but once again, not at all easy to implement. Love God, Love your neighbor, Love one another, Love even your enemies. Jesus would not have told us – his disciples – to love our enemies unless he knew that the command to love those who didn’t love us would bring us joy.

    So how do we do this? How do we love our neighbor, when this world increasingly accepts and justifies violence? You will find all sorts of rhetoric that is intended to make us afraid, because fear provokes anger. The rhetoric is intended to inflame our passions, to make us mad – mad enough to do something about it – preferably with sticks and stones, or even with guns and knives.  You see the rhetoric plastered across newspapers, television and, more often, in posts on various social media sites, sometimes going so far as to call for violence or even death to those that hold a different political viewpoint.

    Honestly, this sort of rhetoric is nothing new. We’ve been dealing with it in this world for as long as there has been written history. But as Christians, we need to be able to step back from this sort of rhetoric, and ask ourselves whether what we are being told is intended to make us afraid, and therefore angry, because we know that when we are afraid, and when we are angry, we are unable to love one another.

    Are we able to trust God enough to be able to consider the option that Love might be a better way?

    In your bulletin today, you’ll see a comic. For those that don’t have a bulletin, I’ll describe it right quick. Jesus tells his disciples he’s got to go, and that they should remember what he told them. The disciples reflect, and realize that it’s pretty much, Love God, and Love your Neighbor. Then one of them says, “Well, that seems pretty simple. I don’t see how we can mess th–” And he gets cut off by another disciple who says, “Uh-oh. Here come the theologians.”

    While we might be able to name theologians off the top of our heads, like Augustine, Luther, Cranmer, or Barth, what most of us don’t realize is that each of us engages in theology on a daily basis. We read the Bible, or hear portions of scripture read, and we interpret them through our own lenses – and that makes us theologians. We can either engage in theology that interprets the words of God and asks us to shape our lives to the simple commands to love God and love our neighbor. Or, we can look for loopholes. Good theology calls for us to transform our lives to conform to God’s will, and to Jesus’ teaching to love God and neighbor. Bad theology looks for loopholes, and seeks to justify our behavior, so that we do not need to change anything about ourselves. Bad theology looks for ways where we get to decide who our neighbors are, so that we don’t need to love our enemies, or pray for those who persecute us.

    Love one another, as I have loved you.

    A very, very simple commandment. It’s just not very easy to implement. Because, you know why? We all like to feel morally superior, we all like to win an argument, we all like to retaliate with power and control, rather than love and compassion. We hate the idea of having to apologize, because saying sorry means we have to acknowledge we were wrong. 

    We all love the idea of justice, and people getting what we think they deserve. But given our human nature, we would rather take justice into our own hands for a quick fix, rather than let the hand of God work through the love that God’s disciples share with the world. In case you’re wondering, that’s us – we are the hands of God in this world. 

    The concept of loving our neighbor is a simple one, but actually loving our neighbors is not always easy.

    Some of you may remember this. This story has stuck with me since the very first time I heard it:  In 2006, there was a shooting in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania. A man barged into an Amish schoolhouse and shot ten 10 young girls, killing 5 of them. Then he shot himself.

    These Amish people, only one day after having performed the funeral services for their own daughters, attended the funeral service of the man who had killed their children. They all hugged the widow, and then hugged the man’s children. Later on, they raised money to support this man’s family.

    And you can probably guess the reactions to this act of compassion: People were outraged! Many of them accused the Amish of not caring that their own kids died, since they had “Gotten over the tragedy too quickly.” Some people claimed that justice would be allowing the Amish to kill the children of the man that murdered their own – a sentiment that many people agreed to. They pushed violent retribution, rather than love.

    The Amish, however, responded that they were indeed still grieving for their own children, and that they recognized that the family of the shooter had lost a husband and a father, and that that family was grieving too. It was an incredible display of compassion in the midst of their own grief.

    When asked how they could possibly forgive someone who had killed their children and love the family of that same man, the Amish responded: “God has commanded us to love one another. That is what we are doing.” 

    When asked if it was difficult, the answer was, “Of course it is difficult. We grieve for our loss every day, but we have been commanded to forgive sins and to love one another. That is a choice we have to make every single day.”

    The psychologist Erich Fromm, in his book, “The Art of Loving,” said this:

    Love is a decision, it is a judgment, it is a promise. If love were only a feeling, there would be no basis for the promise to love each other forever. A feeling comes and it may go. How can I judge that it will stay forever, when my act does not involve judgment and decision.

    In other words, Feelings come and go, so how can God command us to have feelings of love for our neighbor? The simple answer is that God doesn’t. God commands us to love, which is an active decision to behave a particular way, as evidenced by the Amish in response to the murder of their daughters. They clearly didn’t have feelings of love. Instead, they chose to express love through strength of will.

    The Amish held a belief that they could – and would – see something beautiful even if they loved their neighbor despite the murder of their children. They had internalized the good news that Jesus said we should love our neighbors so that our joy might be complete!

    The Gospel today says, “Love one another, as I have loved you.” We know that the way that Jesus loved us was through a sacrificial death on a cross. The Gospel then goes on to say, that “greater love has no one, than to lay down their life for a friend.” We often like to think of this laying down of our lives as a heroic act – an act of martyrdom when others are facing persecution – and that we would step in and take their place. We like it because of the finality of that decision, the understanding that it is “giving everything” for someone else.

    But more often than not, laying down one’s life for a friend means sacrificial forgiveness, the decision to love, and a willingness to walk away from the rhetoric that pulls our hearts toward hatred and judgment. It’s never an easy task to make the decision to try and understand people and see things from their viewpoint, which is the pathway toward forgiveness and love. It is easy, however, to pass judgment and to refuse to forgive. 

    A hard heart takes very little damage.

    William James, the psychologist, said, “Action seems to follow feeling, but really, actions and feeling go together; and by regulating the action, which is under the more direct control of the will, we can indirectly regulate the feeling, which is not.”

    Or, in other words, “Feelings come from action.” Or, “What we do, we come to feel.” If we choose to support rhetoric that calls for violence upon others, then we will be more likely to actually commit violence, because we will begin to feel hatred and live in judgment. If we choose to respond in forgiveness, love, and compassion, then we will be more likely to feel the emotion of love, because feelings follow actions.

    We need to only look to the Amish again to see this. We can see the results that their difficult decision of compassion in the face of evil had on their community.

    In an open letter to the Amish community that offered her comfort during the aftermath of the shooting, the wife of the shooter had this to say: “Your love for our family has helped to provide the healing we so desperately need. Gifts you’ve given have touched our hearts in a way no words can describe. Your compassion has reached beyond our family, beyond our community, and is changing our world, and for this we sincerely thank you.”

    The letter continued, saying “Please know that our hearts have been broken by all that has happened. We are filled with sorrow for all of our Amish neighbors whom we have loved and continue to love. We know there are many hard days ahead for all the families who lost loved ones, and so we will continue to put our hope and trust in the God of all comfort, as we all seek to rebuild our lives.”1

    Now, all these years later, the family of the shooter, and the families of the victims have not only become friends, but have remained friends, and visit one another regularly, caring for the victims and sharing their faith in the God of Love.

    Through the active decision to engage in sacrificial love – to display compassion – this community was brought to the very maturity of joy that God has promised for those that love one another. 

    The command to love our neighbor is a simple one.

    It’s just not always easy to do.

    But if we choose the path of love, we can stand on God’s promise that our joy will be made complete.

    1. https://web.archive.org/web/20061021080225/https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2006/10/16/wamish16.xml

    [This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on May 5, 2024.]

  • Children of God

    Several years ago, there were protests in our country that were evidence of the racial tensions that are still prominent in our country. During that time, there was a video shared on Facebook, which you might have seen. The video shows two little boys who see each other from a distance, and start running toward each other, huge smiles on their faces, and their arms spread out in order to give each other a hug. They can’t be more than two years old. And when they finally get to each other, they fall down in a puddle of joy, laughing and giggling.

    It’s a heartwarming little video. It makes us smile, because their happiness at seeing each other is so infectious, so palpable that you can feel it pouring out of the screen while you’re watching it. 

    What I haven’t told you about the video yet, is that one of the boys is white, and the other is black. But, of course, when you’re watching the video, the only thing you think of is how happy they are. We see that they are the best of friends, they are closer than family. There’s just pure joy at seeing each other, and we begin to feel that same joy because it just pours out of them, through the screen, right into our very core. It’s a feeling we all love to feel, and long to feel, and intrinsically, we understand the purity of their joy and love for each other. It really is a beautiful little video.

    Some of you may have already learned this life-lesson, which is to NEVER READ THE COMMENT SECTION on Facebook posts if the post is from someone you don’t know. I, unfortunately, keep returning to the comment section like a vulture to a road-kill party.

    The most heartbreaking comment that I found under this little video was this:

    “Yeah, they’re happy now. But give them 10 to 15 years, and they will learn to fear and hate each other. That’s what this world will teach them. Our society is broken.”

    You might be wondering why I started out with something like this today. After all, our Gospel is about the disciples, afraid, hiding from the authorities that might come to arrest them because of their association with Jesus. But Jesus shows up, shows them his scars, eats with them, and opens up the scriptures for them, so that they might understand everything they need to know about the Messiah.

    Jesus has shared these things with them so that they understand that “repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”

    “To All Nations.”

    This phrase in the Bible has more meaning than just “other countries.” In fact, it routinely is used in both the Old and New Testament to mean, “people of different races and ethnicities.” In short, you are to preach the gospel to strangers, those you don’t understand, those whom you might fear, those unlike you in many ways.

    The disciples were given the task of proclaiming the Gospel to all the world, to all nations, to everyone, to strangers – no exceptions. And that is what the disciples in that room did, eventually. 

    And thanks to them, you and I stand here today, disciples of that same Jesus. And so, by extension, we are called to proclaim that very same Gospel to all people, of all nations, of all races and ethnicities, to strangers – no exceptions.

    Several years ago, while still in seminary – so actually, quite a lot of years ago – I went to a workshop that proclaimed that it would help you to live life to the fullest, to help you break through those things that were holding you back from being your best you. You know the type, I’m sure you’ve all seen one of these workshops advertised before. Because it had been recommended to me, and out of curiosity, I went.

    At one point, those leading the workshop had the entire crowd do a thought exercise, in which we were told to envision ourselves walking down an empty street, as the day is coming to an end, and the light is beginning to dim. On that street, we see a stranger approaching us, and then we are guided through several questions, like “What are they wearing?” “Where are they looking?” “Where do you think they are going?” “Why do you think they are out this time of night?” You know, all the questions that you would ask yourself if you were walking down a street and came across a stranger. What we discovered is that everyone’s mind came to the conclusion that the other person could not be trusted, and that we had to protect ourselves from the possible evil they might wish to do to us. In short, everyone realized that the image we had created in our minds expressed our deepest fears. 

    And then the instructors asked us to put ourselves into the shoes of the other person. To imagine seeing ourselves through their eyes, and what they might be thinking. It took a while, but slowly people started having an aha moment, because we realized that the stranger was asking the same exact questions, and coming to the same conclusion about us: that we are people who might do evil, and we are people who could not be trusted. To them, we were the construct of their fear.

    We fear what we do not understand. We fear what we do not seek to understand. We fear what we refuse to understand. And we will never be able to love what we fear.

    The question the instructors asked afterward was this: “What would it change if you approached each stranger on the street by trying to understand them and view their life through their eyes and experience, rather than a person to be mistrusted and feared? What would your life look like then? How might your life be shaped for the better?” 

    The lesson learned was straightforward: we need to be able to separate fact from fiction, because most of our fear is learned behavior. Learned through our families, our friends, our neighborhoods, our communities, our cultures.

    That understanding of learned behavior can easily be summed up in the phrase, “Like Father, Like Son,” “Like Mother, Like Daughter,” or “Like parent, like child.”

    Our New Testament reading today begins with the words, “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.” Through our baptism, we have been made a part of a heavenly family: we have been adopted into the family of God. And, as Children of God, we have now inherited all the benefits that are due to those who look to God as a parent, and Christ as a brother. We are no longer just Americans, or Chinese, Brazilian or Latvian, German or Canadian. We are first, and foremost, citizens of the New Jerusalem, citizens of heaven, the Holy City of God. We are children of a family that transcends time and space, race and ethnicity, boundaries and borders.

    The ideal, of course, is that the phrase, “Like parent, like child” would apply to each of us. That we would look to the example of Christ, and become like our brother, who is one with the Father. That in all of our actions, the humility, the grace, the passion, and, of course, the Love of Jesus would be evident in each of us.

    That is the ideal. 

    That is what we hope for. 

    Mahatma Gandhi, whom I’m sure you’ve all heard about, led a successful campaign for India’s independence from England, by employing non-violent protests as a form of resistance to British rule. He was born into a Hindu family, but at some point found himself reading the Gospels, and he wanted to know more about Jesus, whom he found intriguing. So, one Sunday morning he set out to go to a Christian Church in Calcutta, but was turned away at the door, because, he was told, the church was only open to Whites and Indians born into the High Castes. Since he was of a lower caste, he could not enter, and was sent away. He never pursued Christianity again, and told people that “If it weren’t for Christians, I would be a Christian.”

    “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.”

    The Church in Calcutta lost an opportunity to share the Good News of Love with a man that later went on to gain freedom for not only his own people, but inspired work among people throughout the world in similar situations. Think of the amazing witness that was lost through Gandhi’s work in the world, only because that church’s learned behaviors caused them to express their fear and pride at allowing a commoner to enter into their community and worship the God of Love with them.

    If Jesus gave his dsiciples the commandment to preach the Good News of repentance and forgiveness to all nations, then by extension, that includes us. So the next question is “How do we do that?” Not all of us are preachers, or writers, or have the opportunity to express our beliefs to people through some form of mass media. 

    St. Francis of Assissi is known for this saying: “Preach the gospel at all times. … And when necessary, use words.”

    When necessary. Use words.

    What St. Francis knew, is that the language of Love is the loudest form of communication that the world has ever seen. From the beginning of written history, we have stories of greed, selfishness, war, hate, anger all growing out of the fear of the unknown. The need to keep ourselves safe, to acquire more, to put ourselves and our own above everyone else has been written into our cultural DNA. To fear the outsider, to be selfish, and to look out for one’s own interests – those things are culturally accepted behaviors. And fear plays itself out in the form of anger and hate.

    But Love, and peace, and understanding – those behaviors are countercultural. Which is why we enjoy videos like the two best friends running toward each other that I mentioned earlier. Those videos remind us of the humanity that we long for, yet overlook for the sake of securing for ourselves those things which make us feel less afraid, make us feel more in control, and feel like we have some power. 

    When we behave like the world expects us to behave, no one ever asks us: What makes you so different? And, How can I find what you have found?

    People ask that question when they see us behaving in a way that expresses the what John was declaring in the New Testament passage:

    “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God.”

    What makes us different?

    What makes us different from the culture around us?

    When we find the answer to that question, when the answer to that question takes root in our hearts and minds, that is when we begin to live into the commandment Jesus gave us to share the good news of repentance and forgiveness to all nations.

    And that is when we begin to preach the Gospel without words.

    When we find the answer to that question, that is when we might see a fearful stranger on a dark road not as someone to be feared and hated, but as a potential Child of God, to whom we can run toward with open arms, and fall into a puddle of joy, laughing and giggling.

    [This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on April 14, 2024.]

  • For God So Loved

    Lent is the time of the year when we contemplate Jesus’ suffering, where we contemplate our own sin, and where we take on a personal sacrifice in an effort to identify a bit more with Jesus, and what his death on the cross means to us.

    Given all that, we should probably be quite miserable, right?

    Maybe not. 

    You may see the Rose colored stole this morning. Rather than wearing the typical Lenten purple, this Sunday, called “Laetare” Sunday, we wear a Rose colored stole. This Sunday is supposed to give us a moment when we can step back a bit from our Lenten disciplines and live in the joy of our salvation. The Latin word “Laetare” means “Rejoice!” 

    The Gospel this morning gives us the reason for our rejoicing. Today we read the much quoted line in scripture that says, “God so loved the world that he sent his only son that people might not perish, but have everlasting life.” 

    But there is more to the Gospel than just this verse. You see, just before this, Nicodemus, a Pharisee, a ruler of the people, had come to speak with Jesus at night to avoid detection by his cohorts. He was truly interested in hearing what Jesus had to say. And Jesus tells him that the only way to heaven is to be born again, to be born of water and spirit. And each time Nicodemus says, “What? How is this possible?” He doesn’t understand. And then Jesus begins with the passage about how the Son of Man must be lifted up, and all who believe in him will be saved in reference to the passage about how the Israelites complained about God’s provision, and then had to contend with poisonous snakes. Just like people looked to the serpent on Moses’ rod, people must look to Jesus to be saved. Then comes John 3:16. God came to save the world, and if you believe, you will have everlasting life. 

    A good reason to rejoice, right?

    A very good reason to rejoice. 

    Unfortunately for us, several of the following verses have proven to be problematic. You see, in verse 18, the Gospel tells us that those who do not believe are condemned already. That is, if they do not believe, then God has already condemned them. And what that has meant for some people in history, is that if you are not a believer, and if God has condemned you, then do I not have the authority to condemn you as well? If you don’t share my faith, are you not expendable? Are you not inferior? Some of these attitudes were even enshrined in law, justifying the destruction of entire groups of people, simply because they did not believe the same as those who follow the Christian faith.

    And even though we don’t necessarily have the full legal justifications in place for this kind of systematic destruction of peoples, what we find is that this attitude is still ingrained in our  religious culture. By this I mean that rather than justifying the destruction of entire people we deem “unbelievers,” we still look for ways to determine what constitutes a “true believer.” We look for ways to determine who is a real Christian, as opposed to those who are just “playing at religion,” or “worshiping false gods.” Rather than looking at the direction of a person’s heart toward God, rather than seeing how closely their lives emulate God’s love – a sacrificial love that would die on the cross for us – we instead look at how they do things differently than we do.

    And we begin to draw lines in the sand, and build walls to keep people out, because, as we have decided, they do not meet the definition of a “true believer,” and therefore, I should be able to condemn them, just as God apparently has, and treat them despicably.

    “These people don’t look like me,” we say, and we draw a line in the sand, and we build a wall, and then we decide, my religion is safe from those who don’t belong.

    And then Jesus comes along and wipes away the line, and tears down the wall.

    For God so loved the world.

    “These people don’t think like me,” we say, and we draw a line in the sand, and we build a wall, and then we conclude, my religion is safe from these people who lack critical thinking skills and don’t have the proper education.

    And then Jesus comes along and wipes away the line, and tears down the wall.

    For God so loved the world.

    “These people don’t love like I do,” we say, and then we draw a line in the sand, and we build a wall, and we enact laws to make loving another more difficult or even impossible, and then we decide that we have saved the world’s children from these godless heretics.

    And then Jesus comes along and wipes away the line, and tears down the wall.

    For God so loved the world.

    “These people don’t pray like I do,” we say, and then we draw a line in the sand, and we build a wall, and we tell those in our camp to stay away from those idol worshiping, hocus-pocus loving people that say their prayers from a book, and traffic in useless tradition. And then we decide that we have saved the world from their ancient religion and sorcerer’s ways.

    And then Jesus comes along and wipes away the line, and tears down the wall.

    For God so loved the world.

    “These people don’t vote like I do,” we say, and then we draw a line in the sand, and we proof-text scriptures to show how those others are living a lie, and when they don’t come over to our camp, we begin not just to ridicule them or regale them with our impeccable logic for why we are right, but we begin to use physical violence to “convince” them that they need to change.

    And then Jesus comes along and wipes away the line, and tears down the wall.

    For God so loved the world.

    And finally, we get so mad, we turn to Jesus and we say, “Okay. Stop it Jesus! Why are you erasing these lines? How am I supposed to know the true believers from the pretenders?”

    And Jesus just comes up behind us, puts his hands on our shoulders, and turns us around… …so that we can see someone behind us, drawing a line in the sand, and building a wall, in order to keep us out. To them, we are the deplorable ones. To them, we are the pretenders, we are the fake Christians, we are those who do not believe the right way and are therefore worthy of God’s condemnation.

    And then Jesus comes along and wipes away their line, and tears down their wall… and turns to us and smiles.

    For God so loved the world.

    How can we not rejoice when we see the world – and ourselves – through the eyes of God? That the Family of God is far larger than we ever imagined? That the person across from us is just as loved by God as the person in the mirror? 

    St. Augustine says it this way: “God loves each one of us, as if there were only one of us to Love.”

    And if we have been loved in this manner, should we not rejoice and pass on that same love? Rather than focusing on differences, rather than fostering divisions, shouldn’t we focus on our similarities, on those areas where we might live and work in harmony?

    Our Gospel passage continues today, and gives us an insight into how we might accomplish this. John says that those who hate the light do not come to the light, because the light would expose their deeds. How would it expose them? It would expose their deeds as superficial, skin deep, lacking in love. Those who do come to the light have their deeds clearly seen, and their deeds will be seen to be done in God.

    What does all this mean?

    The word “believe” in John does not simply mean agreeing to a set of principles, but a word that implies trust, and a word that implies action based on trust. Action. Based in trust.

    If you were a financial advisor, and I had a million dollars to invest, I might believe you when you tell me that you have the necessary skills to invest and manage that money. But trusting you with my own personal million dollars is another thing entirely; giving you that million to steward for me might be a bit more frightening, and if I don’t trust you enough, then I may not follow through on action – even though I believe that you are capable. 

    Just not capable enough for my money.

    For John, those who believe in God are also those who trust God enough to live by the commandments that Jesus handed down. And those are simple: Love God and Love your neighbor as yourself. 

    Ten chapters later here in John’s Gospel, Jesus says, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35)

    We are commanded to love one another, and our neighbor as ourselves.

    Even if, or perhaps, especially if, those neighbors live on the other side of a line we have created ourselves. Rather than looking at our differences, we need to look for where others are loving their neighbors, and join them in that work, regardless of whether they look like me, think like me, love like me, pray like me, or vote like me.

    If we can trust God enough to bless the actions within the family of God and allow ourselves to rejoice in our mutual faith, then imagine the rejoicing that will happen when we come to understand ourselves as neighbors even to those who don’t even believe like we do. 

    For God so loved the world.

    [This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on March 10, 2024.]

  • What’s my motivation?

    Have you ever seen an actor ask, “What’s my motivation?” Usually it’s in a comedy movie, poking fun at various actors who take their craft a bit too seriously. The particular acting strategy that uses this is called method acting, and method acting is particularly well known for asking the actors to get into the mind of the character and try to understand the psychological motivations behind what they are doing.

    Now, you might be wondering why I’m talking about acting during Ash Wednesday, particularly when the Gospel reading seems to be all about hypocrisy.

    The reason for it, is that in Matthew’s gospel, the word that is translated as “hypocrites” is actually the word for “stage actors.” … That’s right. “Stage Actors.”

    You can see the link between stage actors and hypocrites if you look at what hypocrites do. A hypocrite will look you in the eye and tell you the one thing that they consider to be their highest priority in life, and they will speak with passion about how to accomplish these things, they will adamantly profess that others must hold their lives to the same standards as what they profess, and they will judge those who fail to do so. … All while they do the exact opposite of what they profess so passionately and loudly.

    In essence, they are acting. They are getting into the mind of someone who truly believes, and they are professing what they think needs to be professed, but they are only acting. And when the audience is gone, when the audience is no longer watching, then they do as they please. And usually directly contrary to what they profess to be true.

    And as long as they don’t get caught, then, as the Gospel says, “they have received their reward.” If it is the accolades and praise of people they want, then as long as they are able to keep up the front, they will have received what they were looking for. If what they are trying to do is to “look good,” and if they have managed it, then by all means, let them rejoice in “looking good.”

    But this is neither the purpose of Lent, nor the desire of God for our lives. This passage in the Gospel of Matthew tells us that what we do, we ought to do in secret. Not for the accolades of others, but for the Father, who sees in secret, and who will reward us.

    In other words, we are to ask, “What’s my motivation?” 

    We are to turn our judgements not outward, but inward, and question ourselves and why we do the things we do. Are we motivated more by the trappings of this world? Or are we motivated by those things that bring about the Kingdom of God in this world? That is, are we motivated by power, control, wealth and prestige? Or are we motivated by the Good News of Christ, and the joys of our salvation?

    Now. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that any of the things of this world are inherently wrong or sinful. Not at all. It is the direction of our hearts that Jesus is concerned about. This Gospel passage today comes at the tail end of the Sermon on the Mount, in which Jesus says things like, ‘You have heard it said … but I say to you.” And in each case he takes away the dichotomy of right and wrong, and presents us with another option. Rather than doing things out of the fear of punishment, we are to do them from a place of compassion, and a love for God and our neighbors – whether or not we receive any recognition for what we do.

    In other words, we are to ask, “What’s my motivation?”

    Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. We spend this season of penitence seeking to understand ourselves in the light of God’s mercy and grace, and what our response to that mercy and grace should be.

    The traditional display of repentance in the Old Testament was to wear sackcloth and put ashes on one’s head. It was an outward display that said: “I have sinned, and I am attempting to repent of my wrong, and to adjust the motivation of my heart.”

    As we come forward today to receive our ashes, if we recognize that some of our motivations in life have missed the mark of loving God and our neighbor, let us repent and seek restoration with God and our neighbor, remembering that when we do, God is faithful and just, and will forgive us of all our sins.

    [This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on February 14, 2024.]

  • Freedom Fruits

    Live by the Spirit, I say, and do not gratify the desires of the flesh. For what the flesh desires is opposed to the Spirit, and what the Spirit desires is opposed to the flesh; for these are opposed to each other, to prevent you from doing what you want. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not subject to the law. Now the works of the flesh are obvious: fornication, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, competing against one another, envying one another.

    Galatians 5:16-26

    From the title you might think I’m a farmer with a street cart trying to get you to buy my patriotically grown product (whatever that might mean). But I assure you, this fruit is devoid of any jingoism or supposed conflation of Christianity and national pride. In fact, the fruits of the Spirit that Paul is speaking about transcend anything remotely isolationist, since it speaks of our belonging to a tribe of people that exist outside of national boundaries.

    Often, when students head off to college for the first time, they are suddenly struck with the realization that no one is watching their every move; they are free from family, free from old friends, free from the people across the street, and their neighborhood pastor. Suddenly, they encounter the idea of freedom to do as they please, without the social repercussions experienced in a community that has placed expectations upon them from birth. And with that comes the possibility for acting on every whim, devoid of second thoughts and responsible actions; it comes with the possibility of a free for all.

    In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul wrote that all things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial.1 He said this while discussing a similar set of free for all behaviors. But, moreover, in Corinthians, Paul continues that while all things are lawful/permissible, he will not be brought under the power of any of them. Those comments in the letter to the Corinthians share the same words as Paul frequently uses in the letter to the Galatians; Paul is saying that he will not become a slave to these behaviors. There is a fine distinction here between acting upon every whim of our desires and acting out of self-control and out of a spirit of love. If we allow ourselves to follow our innate desires, we may very well descend into behaviors that are driven by our addiction to them and our addiction to our own sense of self-worth and power. But if we moderate those behaviors, based in our love for God and our neighbor, then those behaviors will never dominate or enslave us; instead, our behavior will be tempered by our relationship with Christ, and with his children.

    The important thing to remember, of course, is that these fruits of the spirit are a result of seeking God first in all we do, and not in seeking to fulfill our own desires. If we look at all the things Paul mentions in this passage, we see that all of them stem from some form of self-importance; every one of these behaviors can be traced back to the idea that we are more important than others, or that others have harmed or infringed upon the stellar specimen of humanity that is us.

    And, just as in the last section, Paul is attempting to point people’s lives toward God, and not toward selfish desires and ambitions. He ends this section with the command that we should not become conceited, that we should not compete against one another, nor that we should envy one another. There is no reason to fear one another, to compete with one another, to envy each other when we all share in God’s promise to us through our belief in Christ. If we all have the same promise, then our lives should be tempered through the lens of that promise, the lens of seeking Christ’s work in this world. When we do this, we do not run the risk of becoming enslaved to these behaviors, but instead our behaviors are lived out through the lens of a shared goal and through our shared love of Christ and neighbor.

    1. 1 Corinthians 6:12

  • Fearful or Free

    Tell me, you who desire to be subject to the law, will you not listen to the law? For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by a slave woman and the other by a free woman. One, the child of the slave, was born according to the flesh; the other, the child of the free woman, was born through the promise. Now this is an allegory: these women are two covenants. One woman, in fact, is Hagar, from Mount Sinai, bearing children for slavery. Now Hagar is Mount Sinai in Arabia and corresponds to the present Jerusalem, for she is in slavery with her children. But the other woman corresponds to the Jerusalem above; she is free, and she is our mother. For it is written, “Rejoice, you childless one, you who bear no children, burst into song and shout, you who endure no birth pangs; for the children of the desolate woman are more numerous than the children of the one who is married.” Now you, my friends, are children of the promise, like Isaac. But just as at that time the child who was born according to the flesh persecuted the child who was born according to the Spirit, so it is now also. But what does the scripture say? “Drive out the slave and her child; for the child of the slave will not share the inheritance with the child of the free woman.” So then, friends, we are children, not of the slave but of the free woman.

    Galatians 4:21-31

    Wow. At first reading this makes my head spin. What do these two women have to do with the Law? At first I got caught up in the place names, and the comparisons to other places, wondering what might be going on. But it seems to be much more simple than all of that. Men in those days might have had children from their slave women, but those children were never brought in to the will, the inheritance. In this case, those children born of slave women would never have the inheritance that Isaac would have, because they were not part of God’s promise to Abraham. That promise was to come through Isaac. And, Paul alludes to this when he says, “Rejoice, you childless one, you who bear no children … for the children of the desolate woman are more numerous than the one who is married.” Sara was barren until the promise of God came to her that she would be the “mother of nations.” And the promise came to be.

    But imagine what Sara must have gone though all those years of being childless while wanting a child. Or, later, of seeing Abraham have a child with her servant Hagar. We know she was upset, because the bible tells us that she treated Hagar harshly 1 – jealous, most likely, at Hagar’s good fortune of fertility. Even later, when she herself gives birth to Isaac – through whom God’s promise was to come – she again treats Hagar harshly; this time probably not from jealousy, but more likely fear that Ishmael would try to usurp Isaac’s rights, or even kill him 2. Obviously, we can only speculate at her intentions based on what the scripture tells us, but the end result is that Ishmael is kicked out of Abraham’s group of people.

    These speculations on what Sara might have been thinking come from my experience of being in ministry, and watching others in ministry. There are times where our ministries and lives seem to be spiritually barren, where nothing quite seems to go as expected, even though we believe with all our might that God has brought us to that place. And yet, despite our work, our ministries and lives seem to bear no fruit. Meanwhile, others seem to enjoy the fruits of God’s blessings, their ministries flourish for no apparent reason, and they are gifted with God’s promise of abundant ministry. Being human, we often tend toward anger, bitterness, and maybe even mockery, instead of rejoicing that God is accomplishing work in the world in partnership with others.

    What’s even more odd, is that often when ministry does take off, when God’s blessing seems to rest with our work in partnership with God, then when we see someone else who might infringe up on “our” work, we often enter into the same anger, bitterness, and mockery. I’ve seen it happen where a new pastor at a church has demolished the work of others – good work, bearing fruits within the community – simply because they feared that the others would take the spotlight, or take over their own ministry. Those people were, in every sense of the word, banished from the community, simply because the new pastor feared their work.

    It is good to remember, though, that Paul is simply giving us another example of how we are related to God’s work in this world. We have received a promise through our belief in Christ, and that belief frees us up from being slaves to rules and regulations to being free to relish in the promise and live our lives according to the joy that comes with a promise of that magnitude, rather than in the fear of retribution for failing to keep all the rules. Also, we’re not an only child; we are children of the promise, which means that everyone who believes shares that promise. Just because one’s work is bearing fruit at this time does not mean that we will miss out on the promise; we’re all going to get the same, regardless of how mundane or fantastic our ministries or lives are here on this earth. That alone should be a freeing thought.

    1. Genesis 16:4-6
    2. Genesis 21:9 and Genesis 25

  • Father Abraham Had Many Children

    You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly exhibited as crucified! The only thing I want to learn from you is this: Did you receive the Spirit by doing the works of the law or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? Having started with the Spirit, are you now ending with the flesh? Did you experience so much for nothing? — if it really was for nothing. Well then, does God supply you with the Spirit and work miracles among you by your doing the works of the law, or by your believing what you heard? Just as Abraham “believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness,” so, you see, those who believe are the descendants of Abraham. And the scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, declared the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “All the Gentiles shall be blessed in you.” For this reason, those who believe are blessed with Abraham who believed.

    Galatians 3:1-9

    When I was still in grade school, one of the songs we sang in Sunday school and vacation bible school was “Father Abraham.” The song was a a few short verses, and went like this:

    “Father Abraham had many sons.
    Many sons had Father Abraham.
    And I am one of them.
    And so are you.
    Many Sons had Father Abraham.
    So let’s just praise the Lord.”

    Father Abraham

    Granted, the language might need some updating to be a bit more inclusive, but the simple truth that was passed on to little ones like me and my friends was that we were part of the tribe of Abraham, part of his spiritual family, brought about by the promise that God had made to Abraham. And this truth is what Paul is trying to convey to the people of Galatia. He is continuing the argument he began with the story of Peter failing to live up to his own convictions, attempting to show the difference between faith and works.

    The reason Paul is so perplexed by the Galatians is that they had already understood that they were accepted as members of God’s family, and that this status as members of the family was attained through their belief in Jesus as the Messiah. And so now, when people come along telling them that they need to first become Jews and follow all the rules and regulations of the Jewish faith before they can consider themselves followers of Christ, Paul thinks that they must be bewitched. What else could explain going from already being accepted in the family of God to suddenly trying to attain something they already had by doing work that they didn’t need to do? “Mind-boggling. It must be that someone has put a spell on them.”

    But why bring up Abraham at all? N.T. Wright, and others, think that those demanding the gentiles follow the Jewish law were probably throwing around Abraham’s name, because God had made the covenant with Abraham, and had demanded circumcision as part of that covenant (Genesis 17). This would seem like a logical argument, and would explain why they are demanding that everyone need to get circumcised. But Paul reminds them that not even Abraham had been circumcised only after God had deemed him righteous (Genesis 15:1-6). So it was not works that justified Abram in the eyes of God, but his faith in God’s promise of his future lineage that did so.

    And if that wasn’t enough to remind the Galatians that they were already justified before God through their faith and belief in the work of the messiah, then Paul throws in an extra little reminder: God had promised that all nations would be blessed through Abraham (“or all gentiles shall be blessed in you”). This really draws home Paul’s argument, that even from the beginning of the covenant, God had the gentiles in mind. God had planned that the sons of Abraham would be the people from whom would come the blessing that would save the world (Genesis 22:1-18). And, if we follow the opening recitations of lineage in the Gospel according to Matthew, we see that Jesus, the Christ, was in the direct lineage of Abraham. And from him came the salvation of the world; through him all nations were blessed; through him all gentiles were blessed and became children of Abraham.

    Divisions, Divisions

    What’s interesting here, is the word that Paul uses here to describe the Gentiles is ethnos (pl. ethne), meaning “a race, a nation” and implying any nation other than Israel. It is also the word from which we get the English word Ethnic. Generally, this word, in current usage, tends not to refer to other nations. Instead, it takes on the meaning more closely related to it’s original implied meaning of “anything other than Israel,” with the new implication being that anyone who is ethnic is not like us. It is usually uttered by those who are trying to make the distinction between themselves and others, often with the intention of separating themselves from those others; in short, it often has racist overtones, even among those who would call themselves believers. It would be more akin to Peter’s attempt to remove himself from the gentiles in Galatians 2:11-24, and less like Paul’s reminder that all are welcome in the family of God, if only they believe.

    In fact, it seems that over the centuries, Christians have proven that they are more adept at finding reasons for division than for unity. According to recent numbers, there are roughly 200 denominations in the United States alone, and roughly 45,000 different denominations globally1. These all represent some form of division and disagreement.

    When I was in seminary, several of the people in our cohort joked about their denominations’ ability to have church splits over seemingly inconsequential things. “We’ll have a split over whether to use an organ or a piano,” one of them joked. “It’s not even a theological issue. More of a preference. But you’ll get all the righteous indignation and proof-texting to show that this is how God wanted it.” We all had a chuckle about that, but the reality is that all of these disagreements, and the resulting church splits, are damaging both to the believers in the church, and especially to the faith itself. Because who, when watching this in-fighting unfold can truly say that these believers are following The Way of Love?

    Important Words and Phrases

    ἀνόητοι – anontoi, from anoetos– “unswise, irrational, or foolish,” not so much in the sense of stupid, but more along the lines of lacking in wisdom, failing to reason through something with proper logic, and has overtones of a lack of moral wisdom. 2

    ἐβάσκανεν – “has bewitched” – from βασκαίνω – baskaino – To “hurt by words,” slander, and then, to bewitch. The use here in Galatians 3:1 is the only use in the New Testament. “The use is figurative, but not without some realism insofar as the power of falsehood stands behind magic. In yielding to these ‘magicians’ the Galatians have come under the power of untruth.” 3

    ἐπιτελεῖσθε – “being perfected, completed” – from ἐπιτελέω – epiteleo – I finish, I complete, I accomplish. 4 The idea here is to contrast it to the “starting” with the spirit, drawing together the idea that they are trying to complete things through their own power.

    ἔθνη – “the nations” – from ἔθνος, ους, τό – ethnos – a race, a nation, the nations (as distinct from Israel). 5

    Notes

    1. https://www.livescience.com/christianity-denominations.html
    2. Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (TDNT), Abridged in 1 Vol., pp 638
    3. TDNT, pp 102
    4. TDNT, pp 1163
    5. TDNT, pp 201-202