Sermon on Sin, Lent I, 2011

“May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be always acceptable unto thee, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” AMEN.

The subject for today is SIN. Some of you mature folks will recall that we Christians went through about a 30 year period in the church, not too long ago, of trying to figure out a way of living that simply denied the existence of sin. The argument, put forward by good people, by thoughtful people, by theologians and laypeople alike, generally went something like this:

“And God saw what he had created and said that it was good.” That’s in the Bible!

There followed a sort of Oprah or other TV talk show theological stance that went something like this:

“I just think people are naturally good.”

And you can see that it wouldn’t take much of a leap to go from “good” to “naturally good” to “there’s probably no such thing as sin and we ought not to focus too much on it in the church cause it makes me feel bad.”

Is there anyone here who remembers this line from the Book of Common Prayer? “That our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his most precious blood.” ? Yup. That language vanished with the creation of what I STILL call “the new prayerbook”.

But you know what’s funny about this? As a little boy I knew there was sin in the world. It’s obvious. And I used to imagine receiving the sacrament and being made “all clean”. I fully grasped the idea, as a little boy, that I was certainly NOT “good” all the time . . . that I certainly DID need a good and thorough cleaning. As a young Christian leaving the altar rail, I

KNEW that my body and soul had been cleansed. And by the way, I still feel that way even now at communion. . . and am looking forward to it in about 30 minutes.

Oh well. The good news for you younger Christians is that you’re not being exposed to the “absence of sin” theology like we had in the seventies, eighties, and nineties. Common sense prevailed, and the pendulum is swinging back toward the middle again: focus too much on sin and you wind up with self-flagellation or even flagellating others; focus too little on sin and you forget that you need a redeemer! But as I said, the pendulum right now is, in my opinion, in a good spot.

So what is sin? Many of you may know that we got out of the “absence of sin” theology by answering this simple question. The word itself (at least the word that we use for sin in the New Testament) comes from the Greek, and quite literally means “missing the mark.” Most scholars agree that it is as simple as missing the bulls eye with your arrow. In fact, in Jesus’ day it was specifically an archery term. I was aiming for the bulls eye, I didn’t get it. I sinned. Period.

What? That can’t be right! Isn’t sinning doing a bad thing? Isn’t it turning away from God’s Truth? Isn’t it dancing on Sundays or playing cards for money, or breaking the commandments, or . . .

Well. Let’s see. Jesus would have used at least four different words to describe this concept . . . each slightly different from the other. Pesha would be a “trespass”, a sin done out of rebelliousness; Aveira would be a transgression of the law; avone or “iniquity” would be a moral failing; but the most common word would have been het. Het refers to a simple straying from halakha (the “way” according to Jewish tradition).

Our Christian theology, as you know, is built upon Jewish theology. The Jews teach that we have free will – the freedom of choice in how we conduct our thoughts and lives – but that we have competing tendencies

toward what is commonly thought of as “good” and “evil”. This black-and-white understanding in most Westerns and, indeed, in the Star Wars Saga, is very Judaic. But in Islam, Khatia (sin) is pretty similar: it’s anything against God’s will. The Qu’ran goes so far to say that the human soul can be prone to evil unless God bestows his mercy. This is quite similar to the Jew’s word “inclination” to sin.

And as for us, we hold to a doctrine of Original Sin . . . that is, how sin came into the world . . . Adam’s fall . . . and basically follow this concept handed down to us: that free will allows us to choose wrongly . . . and that we often do! We may be inclined to sin or inclined to holiness. Remember what we used to say in the Decalogue? The priest would recite the 10 commandments, and at the end of each one we would respond, “Lord have mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to keep this law.”

But you know, this whole subject is a course in some seminaries. The New Testament word for sin is “hamartia”: missing the mark. The branch of theology that deals with sin is actually called harmartiology. Christian churches have, of course, split over sin discussions. The Bible doesn’t specifically mention “original” or “ancestral” sin, but it’s implied by the psalmist and St. Paul. Oh well.

At the end of the day, however, you and I both know what sin is, don’t we? Would you take a moment to consider your definition? [pause] Is it something like, “not following God’s will?” “Doing something contrary to God’s will?” “Violating a moral rule”?

In your definition are you making a distinction between venial (what the Dutch call “daily”) sin and mortal (damnation) sin? My priest when I was a child told me that the little, daily, venial sins were more dangerous to my soul than the mortal sins. His reason: my conscience doesn’t hurt when I steal a penny, but it does when I steal a hundred dollars. Since it doesn’t hurt, it becomes easier for me to steal 2 cents, then 3 cents, and soon my soul has eroded. The lesson? Venial sins lead to mortal sins.

We are now at the beginning of another reflective season of the church year. Lent is a 40 day period (not including Sundays. Why? “Because every Sunday is like a little Easter!”) that begins on Ash Wednesday and ends according to many sources at noon on Holy Saturday, the day before Easter. To find the precise ending of Lent you’d have to be a better Pharisee than I am. Some, like the Roman Catholics, actually now count Good Friday and Holy Saturday as part of the Easter Triduum, but let that pass. In any event, it ends with the celebration of the Queen of Feasts, the most important day of the Christian year, and the ONLY reason that we are Christians. The Great Sunday of the Resurrection, or Easter, makes sense to us because of . . . .

Sin.

Without sin, as I said earlier, we have no need of a redeemer.

I also said earlier that you and I have a pretty good notion of sin. Sometimes I’m just “off the beam”. Think of this beam as a walkway, and I’m wandering off the path. I’m not doing anything particularly bad . . . but I’m certainly not heading toward righteousness. At other times I do something that I know is just plain wrong: anger, greed, pride, lust, sloth, envy, gluttony. Pick one. And whether I’m wandering away from the path or endangering my immortal soul with one of the seven deadly sins, there’s one big thing that I need to do. And as Pastor Scherry reminded us in her homily on Ash Wednesday, that thing is . . .

Repent.

And true repentance puts me in a right relationship with my Creator. I become reconciled. Reconciliation is the theme of our Lenten Learning series here on Wednesday nights this season. There’s my plug for that.

Now in today’s readings we have Adam’s fall recounted in Genesis.

Next we have Psalm explaining how confession, repentance and forgiveness lead to a reconciled relationship. Then Paul tells the Romans (and by the way, that’s you and me today) that Jesus sacrificed himself in order to make our righteous pilgrimage possible. Finally, we hear the highly dramatic temptations of Christ in the Wilderness that (interestingly enough, as pointed out to me by Pastor Kim) occurs AFTER he had fasted for 40 days. Did you pick up on that? I’m also interested in the fact that Jesus was not just a little bit hungry. The Gospel writer says that he was famished.

First the devil offers food. Then Jesus is tempted with absence of any pain, and finally he is tempted with worldly power. As you know, he rejects the temptations, and his needs are immediately met by “ministering angels.”

I wonder how hungry I am for a right relationship with God. Do I feel famished like Jesus? Lent is the time for me to really wrestle with these questions. No matter what the definition of sin may be, I know that my sin needs to be confessed if I have any hope of recognizing my Savior. Another way of saying this is, if I have any hope of understanding the Glory of Easter, I’d better get a good understanding of the nature of my sins. And brothers and sisters, there is really only one deadly sin the way I see it: that’s the unconfessed sin.

So let me put in a plug for one more thing: In high Episcopal Churches and in most Catholic and Orthodox churches you will still find confessionals. In these boxes, the priest sits on one side, the penitent on the other. They speak to each other through a screen for anonymity. Although the confessional boxes are rare, we still have a service in our prayerbook . . . yup . . . the same one you have right there in your pew . . . called “the reconciliation of a penitent.” So, yes, we do this thing that you’ve seen in movies, heard about in jokes, and maybe even seen in a recent ad for Red Bull. Protestants generally have never liked this idea,

using the argument that you don’t need a priest when you can go right to God through Jesus for your confession. And while that might be true on the highest spiritual plane, I would argue this:

As human beings, we need the presence of another human being if we really want to know, at the deepest level, that our confession is complete. Maybe it doesn’t have to be a priest. Our friends in 12-step programs actually do something like this with their sponsors . . . who, like priests . . . have heard it all before. Who has the courage to do this? Who has the courage to go head to head with the Devil? It really just depends on whether or not you are, like Jesus, famished. If you really want to follow his example of recoiling from temptation and seeking God.

So my final plug is for you to be fearless in searching your conscience for your sins this Lent. Confess to God and to another pilgrim. Be reconciled. And I’ll promise you this: the whole time you are looking at your own sins you won’t have time to point out mine. And an even more blinding thought: on Easter morning you will say “He Is Risen” and really know what this means.

That’s really Good News.

And now unto God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be ascribed as is most justly due, all might, majesty, power, dominion, and glory, both now and evermore. AMEN.

He Won!

Today Kinzman won the school's speech contest with the speech posted below. He will now advance to the regionals. Proud. Amazed.

Kinzman's Speech for the Modern Woodmen of the World Speech Contest

Good Morning (afternoon) ladies and germs! I know, I know, that’s an old joke, but it is actually important for my talk with you today.

Americans are great inventors. I’m not putting down the ancient Egyptians for inventing paper, or the ancient Arabs for discovering the principles of algebra, but let’s face it, in modern times it’s America that has brought about most of the great inventions.

Where would we be today without the invention in 1898 of the semi-automatic shotgun? Or what good would a submarine be without a periscope? That was invented by an American in 1902. What about jellied-gasoline? That’s a useful flammable substance that actually sticks to its victims to help burn them to death.

We invented that in 1943. It’s called napalm. But in addition to warfare (and who can forget the atomic bomb?) we’ve also invented fun things like the corn dog, antiperspirants, and soft ice cream.

It’s true that a lot of inventions are used for non-peaceful purposes, but it’s also true that many are used for life-giving purposes.

The greatest American invention of all time is one of these life-giving inventions. There’s no one in this room that hasn’t used at least one. In fact, you probably have some at home right now. It was invented 90 years ago by Earle Dickson back in 1921.

And the reason he invented it? Well, it was SORELY needed. You’ll understand that joke when I tell you that the greatest American invention of all time is the (drum roll please) BAND-AID.

Earle Dickson was working for Johnson and Johnson, a bandage and first-aid company when he came up with the idea for a bandage with its own adhesive. It’s uses are obvious: cuts, scrapes, and TLC for all of your boo-boos.

It’s a simple concept. It has an absorbent pad that can soak up all sorts of nasty stuff oozing from your body like pus and blood. But here’s the good part: the pad doesn’t stick to the wound! Instead, the adhesive ends hold the pad in place. So the only pain the patient feels is upon ripping the band-aid off of a hairy place on your body. But that’s not important.

What IS important is that band-aids, especially modern ones, are made with extra flexibility: stretchable fabric that moves with you to fit better. Plus, they have greater durability to help the bandage stay in place longer. I know this for two reasons: one, I have worn band aids. And two, I read it on the box in my medicine cabinet. It’s a simply beautiful invention.

Can you imagine life without band-aids? That pesky hangnail would torment you for days. What about having only a mother’s kiss to “make it all better?” No, the band aid is essential to modern life. In a pinch it can substitute for scotch tape, but scotch tape makes a terrible bandage.

Without a doubt, the greatest American invention of all times came from Earle Dickson 90 years ago. The band aid. Even as I say its name I hear patriotic music playing in the distance. We can live without napalm, guns, and periscopes, but not without this medical miracle known as the lowly adhesive bandage.

Selbies, charge!

Camp Selby Is BEEST

Peddie and Pickle are invited

I've invited these authors to post on the blog. Kinzman, e, Mamacita, Isabug, and I were heretofore the only authors.

Yet Another Weekly Scold

The Kingdom of Heaven Has Come Near

A sermon on the 3^rd Sunday after the Epiphany 2011

All Saints’ Episcopal Church

Morristown, Tennessee

Henry G. Selby

“May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” AMEN.

Do you want to be citizen of heaven? Do you want cross over Jordan, be cleansed whiter than snow, to be a member of the choirs in a never ending Sabbath in that place where there are no sorrows or tears, but rather an ineffable joy . . . an indescribable peace . . . ? Do you want to ride the glory train? (Oh, how I wish that train would blow its whistle this morning right on cue!)

I have no idea what your conception of heaven is. Chances are, it’s been influenced, as has mine, by artists of the Renaissance or perhaps Gustav Doré’s engravings from the Divine Comedy. Who can forget Beatrice and Dante, as etched by Doré, gazing into the Empyrean, highest heaven, at what appears to be a vortex of winged angels? Highest heaven. Beings so spiritually advanced that they are nothing more, but nothing less, than light.

Heaven. God’s abode. St. Peter at the pearly gates. A crystal sea. Halos and wings and harps for everyone! Sort of a nebulous affair . . . where it’s always sunny even though you move through the clouds . . .

I don’t know what it looks like. What I do know is that I want to go there. I’m guessing you do to! And today, the third Sunday after the Epiphany (a season of light-in-the-darkness symbolism) we have Jesus telling us to repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near. So it seems pretty clear to me that if I want to be a part of the celestial congregation, I’d better repent.

On the other hand, this reminds me of the parish priest in Dublin who entered a pub to spy on some of his flock. “Michael O’Shaughnessy,” he exclaimed upon spotting one. “Don’t you want to go to heaven?” “Yes, father, I do.” “Then stand over here.”

The Kingdom of Heaven Has Come Near, page 2

Then he saw another one: “Sean Patrick, don’t you want to go to heaven?” “Yes, father, I do.” “Then stand over here.” And Kevin O’Malley: don’t you want to go to heaven? “No father.”

He couldn’t believe his ears.

“What? Kevin! You mean when you die you don’t want to go to heaven?”

“Oh yes, father, when I die. I thought you were getting up a group to go right now!”

You see, Kevin was probably willing to repent, but just not quite yet. It’s a funny story, but the truth is that Kevin didn’t get the bigger picture . . . that the Kingdom of heaven is near and the time to repent is now.

Today’s Gospel lesson is instructive on many levels. We are given the history of Jesus’ call to some disciples and his earliest ministry. It footnotes our Old Testament lesson from Isaiah, and it is a clear instruction and call for repentance. Finally, it is a model for us to follow Jesus’ example in taking care of others.

And here’s a thought: what if the kingdom of heaven came near and you couldn’t recognize it when you saw it? What if it were right there, inches from you, but you couldn’t see it because you were facing the wrong direction?

I imagine that everyone knows what repent means. Just in case you’ve forgotten, I’ll remind you. It means “turn around.” It’s not a curse. It’s not some high falutin’ religious rule or commandment from an angry overseer. “Repent”, I would suggest, is in fact a very loving statement. Put very simply, if you saw someone running toward the edge of a cliff, you might suggest that he turn around and run in the opposite direction!

The Kingdom of Heaven Has Come Near, page 3

So the loving intent of our Lord when he speaks to us should be obvious: if you want to see the nearness of that place that seems impossible to describe, the place where you say you want to spend all eternity, you’re going to have to start by repenting. And brothers and sisters, let me share with you from my own experience: true repentance is the door to a transformed life. But how do we recognize the need to repent? How do I know that it’s time to “turn around”?

Some folks have counselors or spiritual directors to help them see the need. Others have real friends . . . you know . . . the ones who love us enough to tell us the truth . . .

For the lucky ones among us, we have these human mirrors to reflect our needs in such a way that we can see outside of our own selfishness once in a while.

It’s like the young woman who decided to give the convent a try. She entered one of these cloistered nunneries where the sisters take a vow of silence. At the end of her first year the Mother Superior called her in, commended her for diligence in her spiritual path, and as a reward, allowed her to say two words. The girl responded, “Beds. Hard.” The Reverend Mother was miffed, but said nothing and sent the novice on her way. Another year passed and she allowed the novice to say two more words. This time? “Food. Bad.” Again, she was sent back without a comment. At the end of her third year the Superior gave her another chance to speak before making her perpetual vow. “I quit.” The Rev. Mother didn’t bat an eye! “It’s no wonder! You’ve done nothing but complain since you got here!”

And here in today’s Gospel our Lord seems to be saying that, whether we know it or not, if we want to glimpse the Kingdom, we’d better turn around.

The Kingdom of Heaven Has Come Near, page 4

There’s this Gregorian melody that is mysterious, haunting, and just, well, sort of heavenly. It’s been floating around sacred spaces in the western church for well over a thousand years. Not too many years ago a French composer named Maurice Duruflé made a choral setting of the melody. You’ll hear our choir sing it today. But it’s not just this heavenly melody that is profound, it is the ancient text that goes along with the music:

Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est. Where there is charity and love, God is there also.

Another translation has it as ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est: Where there is true charity (or love), there is God also.

My friends, the Gospel lesson today is powerful. Think about it. Imagine it! Imagine the possibilities that are out there for us if we follow this simple and loving direction: Repent!

I suspect there’s a temptation here to say, “hey. I’m a truly loving person. It’s time for me to help my child or my wife or my neighbor or my politicians REPENT. Well, this is not the time for you husbands to be jabbing your wife and whispering, “I hope you’re getting this!”

No. This is a foreshadowing of Jesus’ teaching on removing the log in your own eye so that you can see the mote in your neighbor’s. Our Lord is giving the direction to each of us, individually. Repent.

So it’s a good-news bad news thing: the good news is that the kingdom of heaven has come near; the bad news is, we have to repent to have a taste of it. But the really, really good news is that repentance doesn’t imply that we’ve been doing something “bad” at all. Hear that again: repentance does NOT imply that we’ve been doing something “bad”. It just means that we need to turn around: to head ourselves in the best direction.

The Kingdom of Heaven Has Come Near, page 5

Jesus sees two brothers, Simon Peter and Andrew, casting their nets. He calls out to them. Can you visualize this? Can you see them turn to see who is calling out to them from the shore? And they turn around and follow him. He sees Zebedee’s boys, James and John sitting in a boat and he calls to them. They, too, turn around and immediately follow him.

Do we have ears to hear our Lord calling us? In today’s collect we prayed for the grace to answer God’s call. It is a call to repentance, and it is a call made from pure love.

“Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.”

And there’s the proclamation of the unlimited possibilities of a life transformed. I didn’t say it would be an easy life. I didn’t say it would be a hard life. But what I am saying is that we don’t have to make our new journey alone. We have each other . . . and shortly we will be united with millions of others – millions of others! – who are strengthened today by the body and blood of God who calls us.

Do we want to be citizens of heaven? Do we want cross over Jordan, be cleansed whiter than snow, to be members of the choirs in a never ending Sabbath in that place where there are no sorrows or tears? Do we really want to ride the Glory train?

Brothers and Sisters: the Kingdom of Heaven has come near this morning. Turn around and take a look.

And now unto God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be ascribed as is most justly due, all might, majesty, power, dominion, and glory, both now and evermore. AMEN.