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.
Homily Transcript: April 1, 2012; The Sunday of the Passion; Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 31:9-16; Philippians 2:5-11; Mark 12:28-34a
From Mark’s gospel, “The scribe said, ‘Teacher…to love (God) … and to love one’s neighbor as oneself’ … is much more important than all … burnt-offerings and sacrifices.’” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Earlier this week, our Bishop reflected on his sadness at the pictures of Christians kneeling in prayer on the steps of the Supreme Court building in Washington, D.C. It’s not their praying that saddened him, but rather, that they were asking for God to intervene and overturn the law regarding health care insurance. Regardless of where you might stand on the issue of universal healthcare, like our Bishop, I wonder if such a picture truly demonstrates our promise to seek and serve Christ in every human being; our call to understand that loving God means loving and caring for each other.
The reality is that, somehow, many Christians today have lost sight of their responsibility to each other. They have lost sight of the transformative power of Christ that should move our focus and mission beyond our own selves. Instead, they have recreated and reshaped our faith into a simple personal relationship with God and, in the process, seem to have turned their backs on everyone else. Is it any wonder then that when you tell people you are a Christian, many bristle and make negative comments? Diana Butler Bass, in her recent book, “Christianity after Religion ” – a surprisingly insightful and well-researched book – noted that many people outside the church and even within it describe religion (especially Christianity) as “cold, rigid, hurtful, narrow, controlling, embarrassing, and mean.” (Bass, p. 70) Is this an accurate picture of what our faith really is?
In today’s reading from Isaiah, we hear words about teaching and hearing, using words in ways that will sustain the weary and build them up; not beat them down. Our reading from Philippians speaks about Christ’s humility in emptying himself and becoming obedient to God in all things. I suggest that if we are truly Christ-like; truly like him whom we say has redeemed us, then we, too, should be known by our humility, obedience, and willingness to empty ourselves of all pretense in order that God might work in and through our lives.
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: March 4, 2012 The Second Sunday in Lent The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16; Psalm 22:22-30; Romans 4:13-25; Mark 8:31-38
From Genesis, “The Lord appeared to Abram, and said … ‘I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless.’” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
It may come as a surprise to some of you knowing how staid, conservative, and serious I am at all times, to learn that one of my favorite television shows is none other than the cartoon series, The Simpsons. I n one particular episode, parents Marge and Homer Simpson head off to the local elementary school. There, emblazoned across the front of the school hangs a huge banner which reads, “Parent – Teacher Night: Let’s share the blame!”
In our Old Testament lesson this morning, God tells Abram to walk before him and to be blameless. I think that one of the subtle and yet, very telling shortfalls of modern society is when things don’t go the way we want them to go, we tend to blame everyone else for what has happened, rather than, look inward to ourselves. At first, we might blame all our problems on today’s social ills and point our fingers saying, “If the government would do something, then no one would ever be hungry or homeless.”Or we might blame our problems on people of different ethnic origin or race; and, of course, the current rage is to blame everything that is wrong with American society on the undocumented workers, or the abortion debate, or, even, gay marriage. Whatever our circumstances, we tend to say that the fault lies with someone else.
When we do realize that our shortfalls are, in fact, our own doing, we just plead, “I didn’t know” thinking that, somehow, by claiming ignorance, we can still shift the responsibility away from us and onto someone else when, in reality, we did know, but, we forgot. To say, “I forgot” would mean taking responsibility for our choices and actions, and some people do not want to do that and certainly, they do not want to acknowledge such before others. When things go wrong, it just has to be someone else’s fault. Besides, rather than look within ourselves, it is far easier to blame someone else, even to blame God.
Sermon Transcript: February 26, 2012; The First Sunday in Lent The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: Genesis 9:8-17; Psalm 25:1-9; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15
From Mark’s Gospel, “Jesus came … saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
I had one of those “Epiphany moments” this past Friday afternoon. You know, that’s when something spiritual dawns on you while you are in the midst of mundane tasks. I was in the Charlotte, NC airport awaiting my connecting flight home. The terminal was rather overcrowded due to a number of flight cancelations and delays caused by the severe weather in that region. I was fortunate to have arrived in plenty of time for my connecting flight but others, sad to say, had arrived late and missed their connections or were running full-tilt to get to their next gate.
Having plenty of time, and tired of reading, I settled back in my chair and watched the mass of people before me that seemed to be jostled around by just too many people in a small space each with their own agenda and their own needs, all trying to head in different directions and all of them talking at the same time. Above this fray of humanity were the sounds of modern communication: buzzers and bells ringing, cell phones jingling their obnoxious ring tones (why don’t people answer their phones?), the incessant beeping of carts carrying the mobility impaired to the next gate; business persons pacing around in circles gesturing into the air as they chatted on cell phones telling someone what to do; and a Public Address system reminding us for the umpteenth time in calm dulcet tones,“Attention please: The FAA reminds all travelers, ‘do not leave your bags unattended at any time.’” My Epiphany moment came about while waiting at the gate for my own 5:35 pm flight. All the signs throughout the terminal and at the gate read “on time” for departure even though it was now 5:40 pm and the plane hadn’t even arrived yet. It was at that time that our gate attendant announced that the flight was delayed. I thought, “Well, now there’s a surprise.” The person next to me who, until now had been having a lengthy conversation with someone on his cell phone (why do people speak so loudly when they’re on a cell phone?), told his caller to hold on and then asked me, “Is there a delay?” I affirmed such, at which point he got back on the phone and said, “The guy next to me just said the flight is delayed. They never announced it. No one told us!” That was my epiphany moment: We live in a world of mass communication that bombards us with constant messages and even when we can see with our own eyes what is happening in front of us – such as it’s hard to get on a plane that isn’t there yet - we can get so wrapped up in our own lives – our own worlds – that we tune out everything around us and, in the process, miss out on vital information. Saying “I didn’t know” seems to have become the universal excuse for not listening to, and not observing what’s going on around us. And guess what? That excuse doesn’t work!
Our scripture readings on this first Sunday in the Season of Lent call us to pay attention to our surroundings and, more importantly, to listen for God and to look for God in all things; to see Christ; to hear and be Christ in a world desperate for good news. Lent reminds us that we can no longer say, “I didn’t know” or “God didn’t tell me.” God has spoken and it is up to us to respond.
Sermon Transcript: February 19, 2012 The Last Sunday after the Epiphany The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings: 2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9
From Mark’s Gospel, “Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Rabbi, it is good for us to be here.’” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
I think that one of the marvelous things about Holy Scripture is its telling of how God chooses ordinary, everyday people just like you and me to carry forth God’s message and light in this world.
Our Old Testament reading from 2ndKings tells how Elisha received a double blessing from Elijah and carried on God’s mission of reconciliation to the people of Israel. Elisha had no special training nor did he possess any of the skills we would think necessary for a prophet to hold or required of anyone to be successful in ministry. Like the Prophet Moses before him and his master Elijah, Elisha was an unlikely candidate for ministry: he spoke poorly and was a non-descript person. And yet, we learn from this particular reading that he was totally dedicated and committed to his master and that was all God needed to carry his message and light in this world.
Our gospel lesson this morning tells the story of the Transfiguration of our Lord Jesus Christ. Present with Jesus were Peter, James and John. We know Peter all too well as someone who was often brash; who jumped to conclusions; was quick to speak and slow to think. Mark tells us that once again Peter has put his foot in his mouth. He says, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here.” He should have stopped there, but that wouldn’t be typical of Peter. He just had to say more. Peter blurts out, “Let us build three dwellings (or shrines)” to commemorate this occasion and in speaking these words, he misses the whole point of the Transfiguration. I think that what I like about Peter is that I can see myself in him: We tend to think that when confronted with an act of God, a miracle, an answered prayer, a sense of God’s presence, we have to do something special. Yet, Mark tells us that Jesus remained silent and a voice from heaven proclaimed, “This is my Son; the beloved. Listen to him.” God does not need more shrines and dwelling places. What God seeks is a people who will listen to God and try to see God present in every aspect of our lives.
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