Michael Seiler

Tag: Spiritual Family

  • Sacred People, Sacred Spaces

    If we look at the first reading today, the passage from the Acts of the Apostles, we find that Jesus has told his disciples that he will be leaving them, and then he ordered them to wait in Jerusalem for the promise from the Father. He tells them that they will be baptized by the Holy Spirit not many days from now. Or, in other words, sometime soon. Just wait.

    Jesus didn’t give them the day it would happen. We know that it happened on the Feast of Pentecost, but during these days after Jesus’ Ascension and before the Feast of Pentecost, the disciples could only wait. 

    They waited without knowing when they would be baptized with the Holy Spirit. They waited without knowing when their hopes and dreams for Israel might be realized. They waited without knowing even how those hopes and dreams might come about.

    And what was Jesus’ response?

    Jesus tells them, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority.” In other words, wait, because God has set things in motion. You don’t need to know when or where or even how things will happen, because God has it in control. 

    But Jesus did tell his disciples one thing, and that was that when the Holy Spirit had come upon them, that they would be his  “witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” And then he ascended into heaven on a cloud.

    And so they waited, knowing only that they would be Christ’s witnesses to the ends of the earth. That is all they knew for certain. The only clear answer they had was that they would be Christ’s witnesses. Everything else was a mystery.

    You may see the way this church is structured. When you walk in, your eyes are immediately drawn to the front of the church, where the altar stands, and behind which is a cross. There’s a distinct flow of our visual energy from where we come in toward this space at the front of the church. It gives us a sense that this must be important.

    Because the Eucharist was the primary focus of the church, the structures grew up to emphasize the elements at the table, and bigger and bigger churches were constructed that had the same general structure. The altars were elevated, and the area around the altar was closed off, and only the liturgical assembly – bishops, priests, deacons – were allowed near the altar. These changes in structure were intended to instill a sense of awe and wonder, to provide those attending the ability to experience the high and lofty sense of God, to emphasize the singing and music, and to draw people’s hearts and minds toward heaven.

    And these construction elements certainly helped to do that.

    There was an unfortunate side-effect of that sort of building structure, however. By elevating the altar, and closing off the space around it – and especially in some older churches, elevating the pulpit from which the clergy preached – people tended to also elevate the work of the bishops, priests, and deacons since they were the only ones who were allowed near this altar. This made people consider them “mysterious” and somehow “special” and that the clergy were the only ones who were allowed to do any sort of ministry. In short, it managed to make people think that bishops, priests, and deacons were somehow “set above” the rest of the congregation, rather than “set apart” for a particular ministry.

    Granted, there were a fair number of bishops and priests throughout history who really pushed that idea, because they enjoyed the trappings of power and prestige that came with that sort of thinking. But this idea is false: bishops, priests and deacons are not “set above” or “more sacred” than any other person in attendance, and they are certainly not the only ones capable of ministry. They are simply “set apart” for a particular task within the church, which is the body of Christ.

    Hold that thought. We’ll come back to it in a moment.

    The context for today’s Gospel reading is that Jesus is praying to the Father. This prayer is often called “The Farewell Prayer” because Jesus prays it in front of his disciples as part of the Last Supper, just before he is crucified.

    Beginning with verse 13, Jesus says to God:

    I am coming to you, and I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. 

    “I have sent them into the world.”

    Remember the first reading? When the Holy Spirit comes, it says, the Disciples will be Jesus’ witnesses to the ends of the world. It would happen when the Disciples received the Holy Spirit. After the Holy Spirit comes, then the disciples would be Jesus’ witnesses in the world.

    In the last seventy years or so, the church has gone through a theological renewal, in that it began to understand that the sacrament that truly encapsulates the family of God is Holy Baptism. With Baptism, you are adopted into the family of God, and receive all the rights and privileges thereof. You are made a part of the communion of all the saints, and – and this is important – you have already received the Holy Spirit. 

    And this means that God has granted you everything that God granted the disciples that were with him in Jerusalem. You have everything that God granted the disciples that became his witnesses in Jerusalem, in Judea and Samaria, and the ends of the world. While the disciples had to wait for the Holy Spirit to embolden their lives, you do not. The gift of the Holy Spirit is yours already, this very day.

    Along with this shift in theology came a shift in how sacred spaces – church buildings – were constructed. In some areas, altar rails were removed, and altars taken down from the dais on which they stood and placed on the same level as the congregation, so that people recognize that they are merely spectators, but participants – celebrants, actually – of the Eucharist. The priest, the one who consecrates the host, is merely the presider at the prayers of the Eucharist, but the celebrants of the Eucharist includes everyone in attendance who believes. 

    Some churches rearranged the pews in the buildings so that the congregation faced each other, and the altar and the pulpit were on opposite ends of the space, facing each other. The idea was a simple one, to emphasize that there is no one space that is more sacred than another, and that there is no one particular ministry that is greater than another, that the people, together, are the church. These spaces were intended to emphasize that every person in the building is a part of the Body of Christ, and that every person is a minister, every person has a ministry, and that these ministries all work together to continue Christ’s work of reconciliation in the world. From the very smallest one, to the very oldest, God has something beautiful for each of us to do, and every one of us is a sacred person in the eyes of a loving God.

    The disciples in the passage from Acts were waiting for their baptism by the Holy Spirit and had no idea what it would look like for them to be witnesses for Jesus to the ends of the earth. And the promised baptism by fire came to them, and their lives were changed forever, and through the work of the Holy Spirit within them. Suddenly, they not only understood their ministry within the family of God, but they knew what their ministry would look like, and what they would be doing.

    For us, the day of Pentecost might be a re-enactment of the baptism by the Holy Spirit, but that does not mean that we ought to ignore the implications of the beauty of what happened there that day.

    Nor should we forget the beauty of what happened when we were baptized and received the Holy Spirit. It is at that point that we became sacred children of God and were made witnesses of God to the ends of the earth.

    Is it a blessing to have a beautiful church like this one to worship in today?

    Absolutely.

    We must never forget, however, that the space is made beautiful by the people who are in it, and made sacred by the virtue of their common ancestry as children of God.

    The sacred people in this place are each and every one of you.

    And this church building becomes a sacred space, because where two or three are gathered, God is right there with them.

    It is not the building or the design that makes a space sacred, but the ministers of God who worship within it. 

    And that is you: witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection to the ends of the earth.

    [This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on May 12, 2024.]

  • Who Are You?

    I’m sure that everyone has seen the movie, Back to the Future by now. The story follows Marty and his professor “Doc” Brown as they travel back in time in a homemade time machine housed in a Delorean sports car.

    But one of the interesting story lines in the movie revolves around Marty’s dad, George McFly, who is seen as weak and cowardly, fearing rejection and always living up to the expectations of the bullies in his life. George was allowing others to answer the question of  who he was for him. But at some point in the movie, Marty convinces the younger version of his dad to stand up for himself, and suddenly the entire storyline changes, all because George McFly suddenly had a new way of seeing himself. A new way of determining his own value. A new way of answering the question, “Who are you?”.

    In today’s Gospel, Jesus and his disciples go to Jesus’ hometown. Before this, Jesus had been performing miracles; calming a storm, healing a woman with a blood disorder, raising a young girl from the dead, and preaching about the kingdom of heaven. And so when he came to his hometown, he began to teach in the synagogue there, just as he had been doing throughout the entire region. And all the people who heard what he was saying were amazed. They were astounded, and asked, “Where did this man get all of this?” Where did this man get this wisdom that he is teaching us with!? Where did this man get this power to do these mighty works!? They recognized both the power of his words, and of his actions. And they were amazed.

    But then something happens.

    Then they begin to question what is happening here.

    They begin to answer the question posed to Jesus, the question of “Who are you?” with their own answers.

    Isn’t this the carpenter? Carpenters obviously don’t have the training to be wise in the ways of God.

    Isn’t this Mary’s son? My wife was the midwife who helped with his birth, and we’ve known him all his life.

    Isn’t he the brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And aren’t his sisters still living with us? What makes him any more special than his siblings that are still here?

    And they took offence at him. His very presence in the synagogue, “pretending” to be a spiritual leader, incited their wrath, and they were scandalized by his presence there as one who would presume to teach them.

    They knew him from when he was but a boy, and here he was taking on more authority than he ought to, more than he was allowed to, given his history, given what they knew about him.

    And the result, Mark says, is that he did not do many works of power there. Instead, Jesus marveled at their disbelief. 

    Why? Because what is judgement but a form of disbelief? What is judgement but a lack of faith in what might be, based only upon what we see, and what we think we know?

    They judged him by his job.

    They judged him by his family.

    They judged him by his history.

    They judged him, despite the mighty works of power they had seen, and by the words of wisdom coming out of his mouth.

    The question they were driving at, however, is “By whose authority do you speak like this, and by whose authority do you do these works of power?” Because look at him, he’s just a grown up version of the little kid we’ve always known. Where did he get this authority?

    We, of course, have the blessing of hindsight, and know that Jesus was not just the brother of James, and the son of Mary, but also the son of God, the Christ, who had the very authority to teach and to heal.

    But the people of his hometown only recognized Jesus for who he used to be, and were offended that he would take on more authority than they judged him to possess.

    As if to underscore Jesus’ authority, Mark shifts the story back to the disciples. It says that Jesus sends them out, two by two, and that he – Jesus – gave them the authority to cast out unclean spirits. Jesus gave them very specific instructions on what to wear, and what to take with them: Do not take bread, do not take additional supplies, do not take any money on your belts; wear sandals, and only one tunic. Odd instructions, it might seem, but these things would make them dependent upon others for food and shelter. Dependent upon those to whom they were preaching a message of repentance.

    But the theme of questioning people’s worth continues even here. If the disciples were traveling, looking like homeless beggars, some might be inclined to ask, “Who are you?” and to then judge them as unworthy of remaining as a guest in their house and their town. Jesus tells them to knock the dust off their feet and to continue on their way when confronted with this judgement and disbelief. But these men had been given the authority over unclean spirits, and wherever they went they cast out many demons, anointed many sick with oil, and cured them.

    Think for a moment what those townspeople failed to experience, because of their judgement over those they deemed unworthy. In their minds, they saw some homeless wanderers, asking for food and shelter, and didn’t realize that these homeless wanderers could offer so much more.

    It is at this point that we might pause and reflect on the fact that we are both, at times, the disciples, as well as the various townspeople who rejected both them and Jesus. 

    Each of us, when we come to understand the reality of Jesus, becomes a part of the body of Christ. And it is through each of us that God chooses to bring about God’s plan for the world, each according to their own ability, and according to God’s desires. Each of us is sent by God for this purpose. And if we are all sent by God, then all those we meet might very possibly also be sent by God.

    Think of what we might miss out on, if we were to look at them, and ask, “Who are you?” and deem them to be less than what we hoped for. Think of the opportunities we might miss out on to see God’s work in the world, because we look upon others, and judge them by their position in life, their family, or their history. Think of the changes in storyline that might never happen, because of our own judgement and disbelief that God can work through those we deem incapable.

    If there was someone who could be judged for his history in this world, it would be the Apostle Paul. Before his conversion, Paul went about the ancient world, looking for communities of believers, so that he could put to death the leaders of those groups and break apart those fledgling communities.

    In many places, Paul was judged. Judged for his history of damaging those that belonged to the newfound faith in Christ. Sometimes even by those who were supposed to be his allies once Paul had come to join the faith and joined the way. Paul knew rejection. And Paul knew what it meant to be turned aside based on judgement and disbelief based on his past actions and family history.

    But if there was anyone who also had reason to boast about his work in this world, it was Paul. He had been trained in the ways of religion, rhetoric, and in public leadership. He had moved about the ancient world, teaching others about Christ, starting and growing communities of believers wherever he went. He knew he had the right to boast about what he had done, but he refrained from it, in part, he says, because he had been given a “thorn in the flesh” to keep from thinking too highly of himself.

    Whatever this thorn was, Paul wanted to get rid of it, but in his prayers, God told Paul repeatedly, that this ailment would remain.

    Why? Because Paul wanted to answer this question of “Who are you?” or “Who am I?” with an answer of “I am of great importance in God’s work in this world.” And God wanted Paul to answer the question of “Who are you?” with the response of, “I am someone God has sent, and it is only through God’s grace and power that the work I do bears fruit.”

    Whatever this thorn was, Paul experienced it as a weakness – a defect – and he wanted to rid himself of this thorn because it made him dependent upon others, an attitude that is not unlike our own culture’s view of weakness. Yet it was in that dependence upon others, that admission of weakness, that God’s grace was made perfect. Paul was reminded that he both could not, and should not, do this work on his own. Paul should instead turn to others, and ask the question “Who are you?” and see that they too were part of God’s plan in the world, a part of the body of Christ, doing good works.

    Here again, we can pause and reflect upon the idea that we are, at times, both the townspeople that rejected the disciples, as well as those sent by God, like the disciples and Paul.

    The confusion arises, however, when we play both parts simultaneously.

    We may be confronted by an opportunity to serve, an opportunity to become more involved, and sense the urgency and necessity, but then stop and ask ourselves, “Who are you?” And we answer it with determinations of our own weakness. We begin to wonder what we really have to offer, or deem our own abilities too insignificant to make a difference. We stand back and judge ourselves with disbelief.

    Think for a moment about the opportunities we might miss out on, if we answer that question by passing judgment on ourselves, our position in life, our family of origin, or our own histories.

    God’s power is made perfect in our weakness too, provided we are willing to admit that weakness and seek the interdependence with others who are on the same journey toward becoming more like Christ. It is by recognizing that everyone is part of the body of Christ, and part of God’s hand in this world, that we become a beloved community, one that sees God in everyone, from those rejected by society to those standing at its pinnacles. 

    We may not have the luxury of going back in time and changing things in our past, like Marty McFly did for his father George. But we have the luxury of changing our present perspective, which may change our whole storyline.

    When it comes to ourselves, we can choose to answer the question of “Who are you?” with the answer of “I am God’s hands and feet in this world, and God’s power is made perfect in my own weakness, because I am God’s beloved apostle.”

    And then we can turn to others, and answer that same question with, “And so are you.”

    [This sermon was delivered at The Episcopal Church of St. Matthew in Tucson, AZ on July 4, 2021.]

  • 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