Sermon Transcript: The Second Sunday of Easter The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Acts 4:32-35; Psalm 133; I John 1:1-2:2; John 20:19-31
From John’s gospel, “Jesus came and stood among (the disciples) and said, ‘Peace be with you.’” I speak to you in the Name of the
Father, the risen Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Second Sunday of Easter is typically referred to as, “Doubting Thomas Sunday” although most of us know it as, “Low Sunday” meaning that our worship together does not include all the pageantry we experienced on Easter. Rather than a “high holy day,” today is a regular feast day of our resurrected Lord usually marked by a lesser or “lower” style of worship and, sadly, lower attendance. I am delighted so many of you continue to celebrate these great fifty days of Easter.
Many of you might recall that my former parish home in Boston was a rather wealthy parish. Oh, let’s face it: most people there had more money than you or I will see in a lifetime. As such, there were two scripture lessons that raised the hackles of wealthy members. One was our Lord’s own words in Mark 10:25 “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter God’s kingdom.” (In fact, the priest was told to never read that gospel lesson out loud!) The second “forbidden” scripture is today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles which is often spoken of and derided as the, “Communism of Acts.” Luke tells us that the early Christian community had learned to take care of each other by selling their holdings in order that no one might be in need. It is a wonderful statement about sharing our resources, but far more important, is the sense of unity of purpose that such caring and sharing created within the early church. So much so, Luke says, “great grace was upon them all.” With everyone’s needs being met, they were able to work together for the sake of the gospel– to focus on God’s mission of redemption in this world – and that mission spread like wildfire throughout the community. It is amazing what can happen when God’s people are unified by a common purpose and common faith.
The Psalmist speaks of such unity comparing it to the flowing oils that were used to nourish the skin and signify God’s permeating blessing on people of faith. “Oh, how good and pleasant and it is, when brethren live together in unity!” says the Psalmist. In other words, it is just downright nice when people get along and seek the common good.
Sermon Transcript: The Feast of the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, April 8, 2012 The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Acts 10:34-43; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; I Corinthians 15:1-11; John 20:1-18
“Alleluia! Christ is risen!” (The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia!) I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the risen Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
When I was a child my sisters and I would be piled into the backseat of our family Buick packed full of luggage and with my parents in the front seat, we headed out to our summer vacation home. And as is typical of every child who has ever been crammed into the back seat of a car, within 10 minutes of leaving home, we’d start to ask over and over again, “Are we there yet?” As I have become an adult, I have a deeper understanding of why my father’s nerves were on edge every time we took that three-hour trip. (Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?)
For many Christians, Holy Week has become an experience of asking are we there yet. Somehow we want to get to Easter as quickly as possible. Besides, we already know the story: Most of us have heard these stories of Jesus’ passion, suffering and death our entire life. Yes, we know how the resurrection of Christ changed Peter’s life so that he who at one time denied his Lord became an advocate for our Lord’s teachings as we heard in our reading from Acts. And we know very well Paul’s own story told in our reading from Corinthians of how he once persecuted the Church until he encountered the risen Christ on the road to Damascus and it transformed him forever. We have heard it all before. But that was then and today is today. What does it all mean now? Does it really matter? Aren’t we there yet? We have already accepted the fact that Jesus died to redeem and atone for our sins. We know that in Christ, we can be “at-one” (atoned) with God once more. Perhaps the question is not are we there yet, but rather, what difference does all this talk about resurrection make in our lives?
My friends, for me the most important thing - not the only important thing, but rather, the most important thing about the resurrection of Jesus Christ is this: If Christ did not rise from the dead then God does not love us. We are on our own and we have no shred of hope that God might intervene and accept us just as we are, and help us in our life journeys. If Christ is not raised from the dead, our faith in the transforming and redeeming love of God is null and void. But, I believe God doeslove us. It is God’s love that changed my life and the lives of so many in our midst here today. Are we there yet? No. It is true that our Lord at the moment of his death said, “It is finished:” our atonement and oneness with God has been made possible. But this saving act is not an ending to itself, but rather, it is a new beginning for a changed life and, I’ll add, a changed world.
Homily Transcript: Good Friday April 6, 2012 The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Psalm 22; Hebrews 10:16-25; John 18:1-19:42
From John’s Gospel, “(Jesus) said, ‘It is finished.’Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
"It is finished. It has ended. It is accomplished." Regardless of which gospel translation we read on this Good Friday, our Lord’s own words tell us that something of infinite importance happened on the cross.
But, for the people gathered at Golgotha on that first “Good” Friday nearly two thousand years ago, all seemed lost. For them, their hopes of redemption and the re-establishment of the throne of David in their lifetime seem but a dream – all is lost. Jesus is dead. It is finished. It has ended. It is accomplished. We think little of these words because we know the rest of the story: we know what will take place in the next few days. But for now, in this moment, what is finished?
Christians speak of this death of our Lord as an act of atonement for the sins of the whole world. For some, Christ’s atoning death has appeased the anger of a just God who demanded that someone pay for our rebellion against God. For others, this atoning death is a ransoming of humanity’s souls from the clutches of Satan. And still, for many more people, the thought that a loving God would require the brutal death of his own Son makes them question what kind of God would allow such to happen. There is no doubt in my mind that those who stood at the foot of the cross on the hill we call Calvary, wondered what is finished? Our faith? Our belief in a merciful God? Our hopes for redemption?
For many Christians gathering throughout the world this evening, Good Friday is more about the resurrection and our atonement than the suffering and death of our Lord. But, if we are truly reliving this Holy Week as if it is happening for the first time, then we, too, stand with those at the cross and we wonder. Our Lord’s words ring in the ears of Mary, the Magdalene, James and John, even Peter, a Centurion, and countless others. What do you mean Lord? You have taught us to love our neighbors as our selves, to love God with all our heart, mind, soul, body and strength. You have taught us that in caring for and meeting the needs of others, we demonstrate the purest love - God’s love. But what kind of God would do this to you? How is it possible that this day, of all days, will come to be called “Good?”
The Rev. Rick Morley describes Good Friday as the “day when we enter into the reality that Jesus – our friend, rabbi, and Lord – was betrayed, denied, arrested, spat upon, laughed at, whipped, and nailed to a cross and left to die in the heat of the day – naked and practically alone. And that death – the death of the one of whom we sang beautiful carols celebrating his birth just a few short months ago – breaks my heart. It stings. When I close my eyes and I see his eyes, I ache. When I hear his words, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ I ask the same question. And when I see his bloody and broken corpse unstuck from the cross, hastily prepared and shut into a tomb …. No theory of atonement makes it easier.” What is finished? What has ended? What has been accomplished?
My friends, as you pray the prayers and participate in this night’s liturgy, ask that question and open your ears and your hearts for God’s answer. Because the answer is about God’s love - a love willing to suffer and die for us. It is a love that is willing to risk everything in order to “atone” – to make “at one” – God and creation once more. Lord, teach us to understand what was finished and perhaps, even more important, what new beginning you are calling us to seek, embrace, and live. Amen.
Homily Transcript: April 5, 2012; Maundy Thursday; Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14a; Psalm 116:1, 10-17; I Cor. 11:23-26; John 13:1-17, 31b-35
From John’s gospel, “(Jesus said), ‘I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.’” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
In this past Sunday’s sermon, I stated that God’s unconditional love is the message of Holy Week. And it is in these next three days - the “Great Triduum" – the Great Three Days of the Christian year which begin tonight – that we will explore the depths of God’s unconditional love and its difficult call to us.
Our readings from scripture this evening speak of the Passover meal, the Last Supper, and our Lord’s issuance of a new commandment – a new Mandatum – a new mandate from which we get the word “Maundy” – a new commandment. And yet, that commandment is not new, but rather, how we are called to live it is, indeed, new and it is difficult.
Millions of Christians around the world this evening have gathered to commemorate the events of our Lord’s Passion. And yet, when we say that we gather to commemorate these things, this is not simply a remembering of things past, but rather, it is a re-living of these events. We bring them forward into our present moment as if they are unfolding before our very eyes for the first time. In Greek, this action is called anamnesis which means to make something a present and living reality. It is how we celebrate the Eucharist each week because our table fellowship together is more than a memorial: it is the sharing of bread and wine in the very presence of Christ who, himself, becomes that bread and wine; and as it is broken for us; we taste and see God’s unconditional love once more.
This bringing forward into the present is the experience of Jews at every Passover Meal. As we heard from Exodus, the meal is forever consumed in haste recalling how the Hebrew people, dressed and ready to flee from bondage in Egypt, paused to eat what would become a sacred meal and, in the process, were spared from death. We, too, gather this evening on the occasion of our Lord’s celebration of the Passover feast to share bread and wine that has become the very Body and Blood of Christ who, on this night, offered up his very self for us and the world to spare us from eternal bondage to sin and eternal death. Christ himself becomes our Passover feast.
I have always found Jesus’ words, “I give you a new commandment” to be a rather puzzling statement because his words are not something new. Jewish writing for centuries before Christ had stressed that loving neighbor and each other was part and parcel of loving God in accordance with God’s commandments. Where this commandment becomes new is in its understanding that we are to love as “I have loved you ” as “God has loved you.” A love that is unconditional: in spite of our pathetic shortfalls – the love of God abides forever – it is ours for the taking and embracing. It is a love that always welcomes us home even as prodigals. It is a love that corrects us when in error; a love that chides us to understand that loving each other means feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger and alien, visiting the prisoners, protecting the oppressed, and giving comfort to the sick. It is a love that is willing to go to the cross and die in order that some might live: it is a sacrificial love that makes no distinction about who is worthy to receive it: it is a love that doesn’t care about your race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, marital or economic status: it is God’s unconditional love and it is wonderful to hear about and yet, so very difficult to live every moment of every day.
Perhaps that is why Peter had such difficulty with Jesus’ words in tonight’s gospel reading. Peter says, “Lord, you will never wash my feet.” In other words, “I will not allow you, my master and teacher, to do the work of a slave because it would mean that I have to get off my high horse and recognize that I am no better than anyone else.” In ancient Palestine, it was slaves who washed the feet of others. Slaves: not co-workers or teachers, masters, or even younger brothers and sisters, but rather, those who were bought and sold; those who were considered less than human; those considered to be the lowest form of life. Jesus demonstrates that true love –God’s love - makes no such distinction: we are called to serve all whom we meet: to wash each other’s feet as Christ has washed ours. And that’s the hard part for us.
We are very comfortable sharing bread and wine with each other in the Communion and we embrace that Christ is present in that bread and wine. We come and receive of him and our souls are quickened at every Eucharistic meal and yet, my friends, to turn and stoop down to wash another’s feet is so very difficult for us because it means recognizing that God shows no partiality: we are all sinners in God’s sight worthy of death and yet God still loves us. As our opening to tonight’s reading from John’s gospel says, “Having loved his own who were in the world, (Jesus) loved them to the end.” And we, too, are called to love others even to the end as “I have loved you,” as “God” has loved you.
These next three days are filled with opportunities for personal devotion and congregational gathering to witness to the Christ who died for our sins and the sins of the whole world. And yet, my brothers and sisters, without love – without God’s love in us – our actions over these days become nothing more than an empty re-enactment of something from the past. May God open our hearts and minds to grasp that we are called to love as God loves: A love that hangs forever before us in the symbol of the Cross. And recognize that when we love as God loves, as the song we will sing a few moments says, “God himself is there” present beside us and in us.
Jesus said, “By this everyone will know you are my disciples;” (Not by your works of power or achievement; not by your pedigree; not by performing great miracles or producing signs and wonders; no.) “By this everyone will know you are my disciples, if you have love – God’s love – my love – for one another. That is the new commandment we are called to embrace. And we begin to live it this evening with washing one another’s feet.
May God teach us how to love without condition and, in so doing, teach us that God’s people are servants of all. Amen.
Sermon Transcript: March 25, 2012; The Fifth Sunday in Lent; Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Jeremiah 31:31-34; Psalm 119:9-16; Hebrews 5:5-10; John 12:20-33
From John’s gospel, “(Jesus said) ‘Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, therefore will my servant be also.’”I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
A peculiar thing happened to me this week. No, there were no arguments or confrontations with street people or any other bizarre situation where I was embarrassed by my behavior or the behavior of others. But it was peculiar just the same.
Typically, on Sunday evenings I read over the lessons for the following week and start thinking about the sermon. Last Sunday night was no different. As I read over today’s lessons, immediately, I thought, “Gosh, I could preach from Jeremiah with its comforting words that, regardless of how much and how often we have sinned, God has promised to establish a new covenant with us promising, ‘I will be (your) God, and (you) shall be my people.’ And this covenant will be written on our hearts.” I had visions of explaining how the Hebrew word translated as “written” actually means to “be carved.” Oh, what a great sermon topic. But then, I realized that the Maundy Thursday liturgy is all about Jesus becoming that New Covenant and carving his Name on our hearts. Hmmm.
Sermon Transcript: March 11, 2012 The Third Sunday in Lent Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 1:18-25; John 2:13-22
From this morning’s Psalm, “Let the words of mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my strength and my redeemer.” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Typically, on the Third Sunday in Lent, we begin our services here with the Penitential Rite which involves hearing each of the Ten Commandments (or “The Decalogue” as they are commonly called). And after each commandment is read aloud, the congregation responds, “Lord have mercy upon us and incline our hearts to keep this law” (BCP p 317-18). And so, we planned on beginning this week’s service with the Decalogue. But, as I proofed the service leaflet and then, read over our Old Testament lesson, I kind of felt like Sophia from The Golden Girls asking, “Is it my stroke, or did we hear this already?” Hearing the Ten Commandments once is often difficult enough, let alone twice. After all, as one of my Seminary colleagues said, “None of us like to be told how to live.”
Many think of the Commandments as a whole lot of “Thou shalt not’s” when, in reality, they come down to two simple phrases that are powerful and yet, very difficult to live: We are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love our neighbor as ourselves. Every “no” statement offered in these commandments make sense to people who are grounded in the love of God and love of neighbor. If our whole being is focused on loving God and neighbor, then we will be honest at all times; we will not steal; we will respect the dignity of every human being; and we will honor God with our substance, especially our time; because we understand and embrace that loving God and loving all that God has created is our highest calling as God’s people.
Yet, we often use these commandments to advance our own agenda especially when, like we hear from all sorts of politicians these days, we want to tell someone else how to live. And yet, that is not the heart of the commandments. They are about love and love is what unites us as a people and unites us with God. That’s why the Psalmist proclaims that God’s laws rejoice the heart: they are not a burden, but rather, they are the way to an abundant and happy life. Imagine what this world would be like if everyone committed their whole being to loving God and loving their neighbor. Imagine what the Church would be like if every Christian loved God and their neighbor as much as they loved themselves.
Sermon Transcript: January 15, 2012 - The Second Sunday after the Epiphany - The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: I Samuel 3:1-10; Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17; I Corinthians 6:12-20; John 1:43-51
From this morning’s gospel, “Philip said to (Nathaniel), ‘Come and see.’” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
You got to hand it to Philip in today’s reading from John’s gospel. Rather than debate the merits of Nazarethor his discernment
that Jesus is the Christ, Philip chooses to invite Nathaniel to “come and see:” to observe and decide for himself. “Come and see:” sure sounds like a great ad campaign for a church, doesn’t it?
So much of life comes down to perception. Often times, our preconceived ideas of what we think should or should not be tempers how we perceive the world. Church history is filled with missed opportunities for mission and growth because God’s people objected to this, that, or the other movement of the Holy Spirit deciding that whatever was happening could not possibly be of God and refusing to even come and see for themselves. And yet, this morning’s scripture lessons tell us that our life in Christ, our life as God’s people, is never static: God is always at work in the world continuously renewing, creating, and doing new things. In so many ways, God is forever inviting all of humankind to, “Come and see.”
I think that one of the difficulties we encounter as Christians is our misperception that being born again or having a conversion experience is an ending. We might think that like Samuel, all we have to say is, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening,” and everything will be just fine; that we will never have to make difficult choices. Or, like the Church at Corinth, all we need to do is “get saved” because we prefer to believe that’s all God requires. But the Christian faith has more to say about beginnings than endings. What began at Calvary with the forgiveness of our sins was only the beginning of God’s new work in us and it will not end until Christ returns. As our reading from John’s gospel tells us, we have much more to see and learn about Christ and our life in Christ.
Sermon: The Third Sunday of Advent, December 11, 2011 The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11; Psalm 126; I Thessalonians 5:16-24; John 1:6-8, 19-28
From this morning’s gospel, “And the (priests and Levites) asked (John), ‘Who are you?’” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
We have an expression in New England that is used when we find ourselves on the losing end of an argument or something catches us off guard. New Englander’s say, “Well, not to worry,” and then carry on with what they were doing. Southerners, on the other hand might say, “Well, alright then” and that expression can end an argument, close a telephone conversation, or even call the family to dinner. I’ve learned that here in the Delta the catchall expression is, “Okay den.” But, there is one expression that I think is understood regardless of where you live in this country and it is especially appropriate when we are confronted by an unpleasant surprise. (No, not that one!) It is the classic,“Uh-oh!” I said that several times when reading this week’s lessons.
On this, the third Sunday in our time of preparation and reflection on the redemptive work of Jesus Christ within us as we await his return and as we prepare to celebrate the anniversary of his birth, our lessons this morning seem like a repeat of last week’s lessons. We have a prophecy from Isaiah about the role of the Messiah and we have a letter from St. Paul encouraging us to keep faith in spite of Christ’s delay in returning. But, we have a gospel reading that seems to contradict everything Luke said in last week’s lesson (and what I said in the sermon!) about the identity of John the Baptizer: the new Elijah whom the prophets said would precede the arrival of the Messiah. In today’s reading, from John’s own mouth, we hear him say, “I am not Elijah.” Uh-oh!
Sermon Transcript: June 12, 2011 - The Day of Pentecost The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:25-35, 37; I Corinthians 12:3b-13; John 20:19-23
From this morning’s Psalm, “You send forth your Spirit … and so you renew the face of the earth.” I speak to you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
I will admit to you this morning that one of my favorite television shows is The Golden Girls. The show is about four women: Dorothy, Rose, Blanche and Sophia who agree to live together and share expenses. They are senior citizens, although Blanche typically tries to pass herself off as “in her late thirties.” This zany crew, when faced with a problem, frequently looks to Sophia Petrillo, the most elderly woman among them, for insight and guidance. Sophia, a passionate Sicilian immigrant, usually offers counsel by telling a story about herself. And every story begins the same way: “Picture it; Sicily, 1943” (or “Picture it; Sicily, 1927” or “1935” and so on). Each story weaves back and forth between the past, the present and future and by the time she has finished, the women have somehow connected with the story seeing themselves as a part of it. And in so doing, they find a way to resolve their dilemma. I think it no coincidence that the name Sophia means “wisdom.”
Today, we celebrate the Day of Pentecost which literally means “the fiftieth day.” Pentecost is celebrated by Jews and Christians alike. For Jews, Pentecost is the fiftieth day after the first day of Passover recalling the Exodus of Israel from out of bondage and slavery in Egypt. For Christians, it is the fiftieth day after the Easter resurrection of Jesus Christ – our own Passover and deliverance from out of bondage and slavery to sin. Pentecost celebrates the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise to send the Holy Spirit to be our advocate, our wisdom, our own “Sophia.” And like Sophia Petrillo’s stories, today’s scripture lessons weave a story of the past, the present, and our future together.
Picture it: Jerusalem A.D. 33. The disciples have locked themselves away in an upper room. They are terrified and they have good reason to be afraid. Their master, Jesus, from whom all but one of them ran away and abandoned, has been executed by the Romans as a common criminal. It was typical in those days to round up a criminal’s closest friends and execute them as well. So, it’s understandable then why the disciples were fearful for their lives. Our Gospel lesson tells us that Jesus passes through the locked doors and greets these cowering men saying, “Peace be with you.” They think he’s a ghost and they are scared to death. Jesus shows them his wounded hands and side in order to confirm who he is and that he is very much alive. Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, reflecting on this text (Resurrection), says that not only do these wounds affirm that the man standing in front of the disciples is none other than Jesus, but also, his wounds confront them with the evidence of their own cowardice and tacit betrayal, and abandonment of him. The disciples are grief stricken, guilty and fearful and yet, Jesus says to them,“Peace be with you.”
Homily Transcript: “ROGATION DAY” The Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 29 2011. The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Acts 17:22-31; Psalm 66:7-18; I Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21
Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
What a privilege it is to gather here on this sunny day in the midst of these beautiful grounds and celebrate our life together in Christ. I think it fitting that this year’s observance of Memorial Day with its call to faithful stewardship of the freedoms won for us at the cost of countless human lives, coincides with Rogation Day and its reminder that Christians are called to faithful stewardship not just of our liberties and freedoms, but of all that God has created: this earth and all its peoples. In so many ways, Memorial Day and Rogation Day is about love: love for our neighbors, our lands and seas, and love for God with whom, through Jesus Christ, we have an intimate relationship.
In this morning’s reading from Acts, St. Paul says that God is not something we created with our own hands from silver or gold. Rachel, a character in Lawrence and Lee’s play, Inherit the Wind, makes this rather astute comment, “God created man in his own image and man, being a perfect gentleman, returned the favor.” Such is the folly of human nature. We tend to shape God into our own image rather than allowing God to transform us into the image of Christ. God is not some figment of our imagination, but rather, God is our creator in whom St. Paul declares, “We live and move and have our being.” God isn’t just a part of our lives: God is our life.
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