Sermon (Fr. Cunningham) February 18, 2018

I assume the main reason we hear of Jesus' forty days of temptation in the wilderness today is because we have entered into the forty days of Lent.  Seeing patterns like this must be a testament to my education, so chalk one up for the Fresno Unified School District.  Anyway, Mark's version of the temptation is, as is usual with Mark, a little light on the details, he says only that, "He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him."  In the other Gospels we pick up facts like that of Jesus fasting while he was in the wilderness and the exact nature of the temptations.  But let's stick with Mark today and not fill in any extra information.  And so what I would like to do is take a few moments and focus on the fact that Jesus was tempted and, in more practical terms, to focus on the fact that we are tempted as well.  For based on personal experience I can with a clean conscience state that I and I assume the rest of you are very susceptible to temptation.  After all if it were not tempting it probably would not be called temptation.

    So let's start by getting a definition.  Generally speaking and in the context of what we hear today, temptation is something that takes us away from living our lives in the ways that God calls us to live them.  But beyond explaining the word in such general terms, temptation is very hard to define at the granular level, because it varies from situation to situation.  If you were dying of thirst you would be more tempted to make moral compromises to find water than you would if you were sitting next to one of these giant pallets of water that seem to be everywhere around here.  And it is not just situational because different things tempt different people.  As John Donne put it, "Other men's crosses are not my crosses."  For example, I have never found anything remotely interesting about gambling.  You could put me into the middle of a casino and I would come out the other end with the same amount of money as I went in (and maybe even a free drink if I was lucky).  Yet I have known some addictive gamblers.  I worked for a guy when I was in college who would drive to Reno from the Bay Area and the first thing he did when he got there was fill up his car with gas because he knew that he would not have any money by the time he departed.  And I know this is a rather silly example, but I simply want to point out that we can all be lured away by various and sundry things.  And we should not assume that because we are not susceptible to temptations that get a lot of attention that we are not susceptible to any temptations.  Our temptations may be on the top ten list or they may be something seemingly benign, but when they draw us away from the one true God they are detrimental for us or at least not the best thing for us.

    Since we are in the season of Lent I want to talk about something that may appear unrelated at first, but stick with me for a minute.  In the season of Lent people often give up something that they enjoy, like chocolate or soda.  In recent years there has been a move in some quarters to pick up something rather than to put something down.  So, for example, I might try to regularly visit a shut in or try to be kinder.  And I am not opposed to this idea of picking something up, but I think sometimes the motivation for doing this comes from a misunderstanding of why we give up something in the first place.  The first reason why people give things up in Lent is in imitation of Christ.  He fasted for forty days and so in a smaller way we are fasting from something.  But there is a second reason and one which I think we can forget these days in which our every desire and whim can be met almost instantaneously, and this second reason is that it strengthens our resolve, showing that there is nothing more important to us then God.  Having to say no now and then in little things can be an important practice. 

    There is the old story of the smoker who said that, "quitting smoking is easy I have done it hundreds of times."  We laugh at the ridiculousness of this story because we know that this particular smoker has never actually quit.  And so while I am not saying that everyone needs to give up something for Lent, what I am saying is that now and then it might not be a bad thing to work on strengthening our will.  To say no to something that we want so that our will might be stronger when severe temptation comes.

Think about it like this, we exercise so that we are healthier and able to do certain things when required.  And so following this logic it might not be a terrible idea if we worked on resisting temptation now and then so that when we really needed it, that ability would not be flabby and out of shape.  It is interesting that in terms of physical fitness it seems very logical to exercise in ways that do not necessarily reflect things that we do in real life.  And so when we exercise we do things like lift weights or swing a kettlebells none of which are part of anyone's job description as best I know.  And for many good reasons, we believe that seemingly odd forms of exercise translate into making us better physical specimens, and better at performing tasks in our daily lives.  However, we tend not to follow this same line of reasoning when it comes to our moral lives.  But is that really wise?  Does showing some discipline and the ability to resist temptation in something small ultimately lead to our ability to do the same with something large?  I would argue that it does because the only people who truly know the power of temptation are those who have been able to resist it.  If I drop my diet every time someone offers me a cookie, I really don't know what it takes to be on a diet, because I really have never been on one.

    C.S. Lewis one time said something interesting (well he said lots of interesting things but anyway).  He said in discussing the ways we rationalize our behaviors that you often hear people say that whatever less than admirable thing they did was not so bad because it was not like they had killed a million people like Hitler or Stalin.  His retort to that was that what the person was saying was true but by the same token that same person had never been given the opportunity to kill a million people.  Most of the time we will be tempted with more mundane things in this life, things that will not be earth shattering.  And if you don't want to believe me or C.S. Lewis about the importance of small things listen to the words of Jesus in the Parable of the talents.  He says of the servant who took the money that was given him and doubled it, "Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master."  And yes I know this parable was not strictly about temptation, but it shows some of the scalability of the Kingdom of God.  God is happy when we do things correctly whether they are large or small.  The key is that we are faithful to him when we are doing them. 

    And so while in some sense the resisting of temptation may be a bit false in Lent in that we sort of cook up our own temptations to resist, the idea in our walk with God is to resist temptation no matter how small those temptations seem to be.  Some temptations are seemingly very bad, but even the small ones take us away from doing the best thing.  And so my encouragement during this season of Lent is for us to leave it a little better than we entered it.  For some this may be a massive change, but for others it might be something seemingly innocuous.  But any time that a piece of us returns to God there is rejoicing in heaven.  And so while we could say that resisting these small temptations does not matter we could also look at them as low hanging fruit.  There are small things that we could resist which will draw us closer to God - that is kind of nice.  Being a Christian does not have to be hard work all the time but requires us to be like the servant and to be faithful in the small things so that we may be God's both now and forevermore.   

Sermon (Fr. Cunningham) February 11, 2018

Today is sort of a housekeeping Sunday in terms of our readings.  What I mean by that is we are tying up loose ends so that we can get to the next place in the narrative.  And so what we see, especially with the Gospel, is the emphasis of one main point and that main point has to do with who Jesus is.  The reason for this housekeeping is this; Lent starts on Wednesday and as a result we need to have a good idea of the nature of Jesus before we get to that.  The Church Year and by default the Lectionary (that is the readings we are assigned for a given Sunday) work under the guise of a sort of Holy Amnesia, with us rediscovering the Gospel on a yearly basis.  The Church year begins on the first Sunday of Advent.  So the way that things are supposed to work is that we first learn of the coming of the Messiah back in early December, then we learn of the birth of the Messiah at Christmas.  This is followed by the idea that the Messiah came for the whole earth which we learn during Epiphany and so now in early February right before Lent starts we need to be told just who exactly this person is who will be crucified at the end of Lent on Good Friday.  As a result we get the story of the Transfiguration.  Those who put together the Lectionary did not call me, but I have always guessed that they chose this particular reading for the last Sunday of the season of Epiphany because it very compactly shows Jesus in all of his glory - the whole fully man and fully God business.

    In many ways the Transfiguration is a strange story.  Jesus takes James, Peter and John up to a high mountain.  And when they get up this high mountain, Jesus "was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them."  Then, if that was not enough, he is joined by Moses and Elijah, which apart from being pretty neat it is also wrought with symbolism.  Moses is the giver of the Law; Elijah is the prophet who was bodily carried off to heaven before he tasted death.  And so by appearing with these two we see symbolically that Jesus is both the fulfillment and embodiment of the Law and of the Prophets.  And just in case that was not enough for us to figure out the identity of Jesus, God the Father gets involved in a very overt way by announcing, "This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!"  And so unless we are felling particularly thick today we should have a pretty good idea of who Jesus is; not only in his relationship to God the Father but in terms of the narrative of the Old Testament and the Jewish tradition from where the idea of Messiah comes.  And so now the question comes, what are we to do?  How does the full identity of Jesus change our lives? 

    I started off by talking about the divine amnesia that we are supposed to have because of the lectionary readings of the Church Calendar and in many ways I think it would be nice if this were literally true.  If we could have a sense of excitement and wonder as if we were hearing this news of Jesus for the first time; but most likely we have heard it so much that it has become somewhat mundane. And as a result of this familiarity we can act like those that Paul talks about today in 2nd Corinthians when he says, "the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God."  In our case it is probably a case of having heard it all before that blinds us, but I think at various times and places we are all blinded to Christ as revealed in the Transfiguration by the various and sundry gods of this world.  And to understand what I mean by this let's start by defining our terms - most specifically what do we mean by god of this world?

    This may be confusing (or it may not) but I think what Paul is getting at in this phrase are not some ancient mythological god like Apollo or Athena but rather he means it in the sense of something accorded supreme importance, and that something which is accorded supreme importance is not God as revealed in the person of Jesus Christ.  A god of this world would be something that we put ahead of the one true God, and it could really be anything.  Putting something ahead of God is a very real danger to all of us and may be even more of problem because of the times in which we live.  Our present times are very noisy times; times in which there are so many things that compete for our attention.  And compete may be too docile of a word because many things scream and yell for our attention.  Most of us here are from the United States, and so here is just a quick example.  You may have noticed that most gas stations back home now believe that we cannot successfully pump our gas without some sort of music playing.  In fact, a number of our gas stations back in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin have upped the ante and have now added TV screens to the gas pump so that we don't have to ever be bothered with a moment of silence for some personal reflection. 

I was reading a study the other day by the psychologist Larry Rosen who has done research on the way our electronic era has refocused our brains.  In one study he found that when people put their phones down their brains actually produce bursts of cortisol, which is the hormone associated with the fight or flight instinct and is released in times of stress.  Which means putting our phones down causes anxiety.  We are worried that we might miss something.  And while I realize this is just one example, there are so many things that fight for our attention and when we ignore them they trigger things in us a feeling that we are missing something important.  How can the one true God compete with things that cause us anxiety and stress when we try to let go of them?

I have sometimes thought that if there were real gods competing for our attention it might actually make things easier.  And by real gods, I don't mean real in the sense that they actually exist, but rather I mean things like golden calves and fertility gods.  I would guess that if you found yourself on Sunday morning sacrificing a goat at the altar of Baal instead of going to Church you would probably have a pretty good idea that you were not Christian anymore.  But that is not how the gods of this world seem to work.  In my life as a parish priest, I have found that the greatest competition to Sunday church attendance is not devotion to another religion but is rather youth sports and nice summer days.  Parishioners will happily tell me that they didn't make it because its baseball season, or it was just too nice of a day to be spent indoors at a church service.  Neither of these are horrible and evil things to do, but they are things that get placed above the worship of the one true God. 

    In 1985 NYU Professor Neil Postman wrote his famous book entitled Amusing Ourselves to Death, in which he argued that our world resembled the world laid out by Huxley in Brave New World where people take a soothing drug known as soma.  Postman argued that television served this function, essentially keeping us fat, dumb and happy.  We replaced the pursuit of great things with a sort of sedentary comfortableness.  Now I don't want to get into full cranky old man mode and say that it is even worse today and we are all numbed to reality by various distractions and amusements, but I will say that we need to be careful.  We need to always guard against things that distracts us from God. 

    Today is a day when we are supposed to be in awe and wonder of the beauty and majesty of God.  And it may be hard to do because of both familiarity and because of other things which distract us from that reality, but this is ultimately the best and most wonderful thing that we can do.  God has never told us not to enjoy the beauty and the wonder of the creation that he has given to us, but has simply told us to love him first.  And this is not because God is a megalomaniac in constant need of affirmation, but it is because God knows that he is the only being in the universe capable of being the first love.  All the rest of creation will ultimately disappoint because it is not God.  Or as Isaiah puts it, "The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever."  And so as we prepare to enter the season of Lent we need to remember who Jesus is and that he is to be worshiped and adored above all others so that we may be his both now and forevermore.   

 

Sermon (Fr. Peay) February 18, 2018

“He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.”

 

Oddly enough, I think the human condition is to be found in that verse from Mark describing Jesus’ sojourn in the wilderness. We’re somewhere between beasts and angels and are tested (which is another way to render the Greek word translated here as ‘tempted’). Existentialist philosophers will tell us that the essence of our human condition is our search for meaning. This search is echoed in something Richard Holloway, the head of the Episcopal Church in Scotland, said in his interesting book Looking Into the Distance: “We find ourselves as conscious beings in an apparently unconscious universe and wonder what it means. We know quite a lot about how we came about, but there is no satisfactory answer as to why we came about.” [p. 5]   So, the human condition is searching, whether for our proper place in the order of things, for meaning, for whatever. It seems that human beings are always looking.

I think that it goes back to the reality of our creation in the image (eikon) and likeness (omoiosis) of God. As a result we humans received by creation a way of existing resembling that of the persons (hypostases) of the Holy Trinity. Saint Augustine would remind us that we’re walking proof of the Trinity, since we’re tripartite beings made in the image and likeness of  the Triune God, so we’re body, mind and spirit. So, made in this way, we’re also searching for relationship. Because our basic nature desires community, socialization, call it what you will. We search because we need each other. We may have individuality, but that individuality is precisely what also allows us to live in community. The very goal of existence – at least the reason that God created us – is for communion, for relationship. I believe that’s why our human condition is searching and why we’re constantly testing ourselves and others – even God – along the way.

Lent is the season of the Church’s year that calls us to a time of self-examination and realistic assessment. These original forty days of purpose – as I like to call them – allow us to see where we are in our spiritual journeys and to see where we are in our relationships. Once we’ve taken stock, once we’ve centered ourselves, then we can do something about it.

Now, if we’re really honest with ourselves we’ll realize that deep-down inside us we really want to seek our own way. We often build up a belief system that allows us to follow what we want and not worry so much about what God or other people want, which is one of the reasons why it seems so hard to live out the Christian faith. We saw an example this week in the 18th school shooting in this new year down in Florida – someone searching for his own way, his own satisfaction, and with no concern for others.

The contemporary spiritual writer Beatrice Bruteau summarizes some of the beliefs we develop in her article, “Following Jesus into Faith.” She writes, identifying these beliefs: “’Health and beauty, money and power are necessary for happiness.’ ‘I am identified by my body, personality, and possessions.’ ‘My welfare is more important than yours.’ ‘No one willingly gives up power.’ ‘The world is here for us to exploit.’ ‘No one can be trusted.’ ‘There have to be winners and losers.’ ‘They hurt me, so I must get even.’ ‘I can’t feel good about myself unless I’m better than somebody.’ ‘Some people are supposed to dominate other people.’ ‘If everyone were good, life would be boring.’” [The Journal of Christian Healing 1988, p. 24]          

The tragedy of these systems we build is that they are so often unconscious ones. We’re not aware that we’re acting out of those beliefs – and there are others, to be sure – which keep us from living the life God made us to live. That’s why Lent is such an important time, because we’re a bit more mindful, more conscious or aware of the ‘hows’ and ‘whys’ of our behaviors. Classical Christian spirituality involved examining the conscience daily. Stepping back each day and looking at what we’ve done, how we’ve behaved and what our motives were. If we’re careful to do this, very often we can trace back our actions to one of these unconscious beliefs, or motivators. Once we become aware of them, hold them up to the light of the Way that God made us to walk and wants us to walk, we can get back on course. Sort of like that little voice when I use the navigator function on my cell phone, “you are now off-course.”  The informed Christian conscience is supposed to serve that function for us.

God built this conscience, this way of staying on-course into us. As Teilhard de Chardin the controversial Roman Catholic twentieth century paleontologist/theologian said, “We’re not human beings having a spiritual experience. We’re spiritual beings having a human experience.”  God demonstrated God’s willingness to renew the earth and humanity in dealing with Noah. What God extends to Noah is unconditional love and the human conscience is to be formed by and informed by that same kind of love.

The true goal of human life, the remedy for our human condition of seeking is found in that promise and in keeping it. God’s promise – early on – is “I am with you.” The remedy for the human condition is found in that promise of relationship, communion, with God – the Other – and with others. We’re to keep the promise by the way we live toward God and toward one another.

It’s that simple and that complex. It’s been right there in front of us all along, but we go looking, because that’s our condition. There’s a wonderful Hasidic Jewish story that speaks to this.

“There was a poor rabbi who lived in the city of Krakow. He lived on the street of the Lost Angel, in the last hovel on that street, with his wife and his four children. Since he was extremely poor, he dreamed every night of riches. But one night the dream was exceptionally vivid. He dreamt that underneath a bridge in the city of Warsaw there was a treasure. When he awoke in the morning, he excitedly told his wife and his children about his dream. He then packed food and clothes, and set off for the long journey to find that bridge, unearth the treasure, and be rich. He traveled many long days and long nights and finally arrived at Warsaw. It was just as the dream had pictured it, except for one thing. There was a guard on the bridge, a sentinel who paced back and forth. And so the poor rabbi, tired from his journey, fell asleep in the bushes. When he awoke, he rattled the bushes with his arm, and the guard spun on him: ‘You there, come here!’ He was a simple man so he did not run. He sheepishly came forward. The guard said, ‘What are you doing here?’ Being a simple man who would not run, he was a simple man who would not lie. He said, ‘I have dreamed that underneath this bridge there is a treasure, and I have traveled many long miles to find that treasure and be rich.’ The guard said, ‘That is strange! Just last night I, too, have had a dream. I have dreamt that in the city of Krakow, on the street of the Lost Angel, in the last hovel on that street, where lives a rabbi and his wife and their four children there is buried behind the fireplace a treasure. And I leave tonight to find it and be rich.’”

Look close to home to find the remedy to the human condition. Look to your relationship with God and with those around you. We need to remember that God is always close to us, we’re the ones who are far away. God, in Christ, left us the sacraments of Baptism and Eucharist as means of grace, constant reminders of our communion with God. Every time we come to this table, every time we receive these simple elements of bread and cup we’re reincorporated – re-embodied – into communion with the living God through the living Christ. In the sacrament of the table the Lord says to us again and again what Jesus heard, that we are God’s children – God’s son, God’s daughter – and that God is well pleased with us.

We don’t need to search, the answer is there -- the answer is here – in us, as individuals and as community. What Jesus preached on that long-ago day Mark records still holds true: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” How then, dear ones, shall we live?