When Word invested in flesh, No matter the shrouds that swathed it Merry Christmas, Creator family! For, as the Body we are well aware that Christmas is a season, not a single day. We will go right on rejoicing, celebrating, cherishing the miracle and reality of Emmanuel in our lives—to Epiphany and beyond. Harder to do this year, no doubt, with all of the restrictions, worry, dangers to health, loss, separation and hardship, but no less a miracle and a reality. Perhaps that’s the reason to focus on the single “moment” of Christmas, the single day, minute, hour when the God of Creation and eternity entered time. For it is a moment too awesome to imagine, really. In the Christmas Day service, I spoke about a Nativity Icon, the one shown below, and have been meditating and reflecting on its beauty and significance throughout this holiday week. I pointed to the beauty of image and color as a reflection of the passages of Scripture we heard during the Christmas Eve service. There is so much in this icon to see and to reflect on, still more that I was not able to talk about that day. Study it a bit further with me, for that is what icons are intended to be: holy art, that deepens and enriches the more you behold and meditate upon the image. Here, below, an icon entitled “The Nativity Of Our Lord.” You will see the baby Jesus at the center, wrapped in “swaddling cloths” (Luke 2:12). The swaddling clothes are a traditional and current practice, which has been proven to help the baby transition from womb to world. At a deeper level, we see the “bands” of cloths and think ahead to a time when Jesus will be wrapped again, bound to this earth and entombed for all time. This imagery of binding and death is not only a profound and poignant foreshadowing of what is to come, but also the present condition of God the Word in the incarnation. The counterpart and reason behind this beautiful icon is the scripture we have heard proclaimed and sung through this week: “The Word became flesh” (John 1:1)—God becoming human, is the incredible action of the infinite becoming finite, the Divine becoming mortal, the life becoming death. From the moment that Divine Word took on mortal flesh, the unbelievable was put in motion—God would die. Roger Whittaker, in his song The First Hello, sings, “They say the moment that you’re born is when you start to die, and the first time we said hello began our last goodbye,” as a lyrical adaptation of an ancient sentiment pondered by great thinkers throughout the ages. It is this immutable truth that was at the root of the rejection of Jesus by the Sadducees and Temple Priests and is a “stumbling block” even today. Why would the immortal God become flesh and die? There are those that still say this can’t happen, and it can’t—or rather, it wouldn’t happen if there were another way to redeem our nature, reconcile all Creation and save us from death. To quote from another singer I admire, Michael Card, “Why did they nail him to the Cross? His love would have held him there….” God knew that death itself, as a permanent state of being, must be changed into a state of transition from one form of life to another. Only God’s self could initiate that change and create new life out death. Elton Higgs’ third poem in his trilogy of poems, Christ in You the Hope of Glory, rightly and beautifully shares the depth of the iconic image of swaddling life! "And the Word Became Flesh" (John 1:1) When Word invested in flesh, No matter the shrouds that swathed it; The donning of sin's poor corpse (Indignity enough) Was rightly wrapped in robes of death. Yet breath of God Broke through the shroud, Dispersed the cloud That darkened every birth before. Those swaddling bands bespoke A glory in the grave, When flesh emerged as Word. Take up this flesh, O Lord: Re-form it with Your breath, That, clothed in wordless death, It may be Your Word restored. Embrace the miracle and the reality of Christmas, my brothers and sisters in Christ. I’ll leave you with a few more thoughts on the Incarnation until we meet again to celebrate his inextinguishable light at the Epiphany:
J.C. Ryle: “The resurrection of Christ is one of the foundation-stones of Christianity. It was the seal of the great work that He came on earth to do. It was the crowning proof that the ransom He paid for sinners was accepted, the atonement for sin accomplished, the head of him who had the power of death bruised, and the victory won.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer: “After death something new begins, over which all powers of the world of death have no more might.”
0 Comments
In the world of religious iconography, the Nativity of our Lord Jesus is well represented. Of the many and varied iconographic representations, there is a common difference in portraying two perspectives of the human condition which stand out—either Blessed Joseph is with Mary at the cradle, or he is to the side, alone or speaking with an old man. Icons are considered an essential part of church tradition and are given special liturgical veneration. They serve as mediums of instruction for the faithful by depicting scenes from the Old and New Testament in much the same way as a child’s picture book. While at first this may sound scandalous—to be compared to a child in need of pictures to explain things, but it is Jesus himself who told us that we must come to him as children, for that is what we are.
The icons depict church feasts, biblical persons, and sacred events. In the classical Byzantine and Orthodox tradition, iconography is not a realistic but a symbolical art, and its function is to express, through line and color, both the physical and the theological teaching of the church. The icons of the Nativity call us to “ponder in our heart” what this Nativity might mean, and specifically, how we will live with it. Joseph is either depicted in blessing, bathed in divine light at the side of Mary and the Lord, or in conflict—the ‘old man’ who speaks to him is Satan. How do you feel when you ponder these images? Where does the celebration of Christmas take you? You are not alone in this blessed time, and your heart and spirit, in blessed repose or isolation and conflict, are not separated from the Child who longs to be held. We will always have our cross to bear, our burden to carry, but we also have our Savior who intercedes for us and takes our pain upon Himself. The Cradle and the Cross are one and the same; the arms of the baby reaching up are the are arms of the cross reaching down. You are so loved and important and special—child of God. See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! …let us love one another, for love comes from God… Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed." 1 John 3, 4; Isaiah 54 “Our present life is lived between advents…We live between hiddenness and revelation.” -Walter Brueggemann
In a very literal sense, we live our lives in between advents—the first Advent is the incarnation and the second Advent, the Parousia—the Return of the King. Yet there is a third, less physical “Advent” we encounter when we embrace the other two spiritual realities as the bookends of our lives. It is in this “in-between Advent” which we find the answers to the everyday issues of life in living, coping, relating, learning, growing, and deepening our faith and our person into the one God created. Surely, we have been living through a time of searching for hope in the midst of confusion and fear. This time of yearning for God’s intervention and anticipating His fresh beginnings focuses now on the Manger and the glorious white of Christmas. But it is not to what lies ahead that we must look, but to the now. Our preparation for the coming of Christ, as we prepare our hearts and minds for a season of joy and restoration, finds its motivation, and hope within the presence of Christ already manifest in us. As St. Paul proclaims to us in I Corinthians 1:7, "Therefore you do not lack any spiritual gift as you eagerly wait for our Lord Jesus Christ to be revealed." Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “Those who do not know how it feels to struggle anxiously with the deepest questions of life, of their life, and to patiently look forward with anticipation until the truth is revealed, cannot even dream of the splendor of the moment in which clarity is illuminated for them.” Those who know this struggle and seek the peace of God through faith know the splendor of the moment in the present moment because the peace they seek is made available through the ‘present’ Advent—the showing forth of Christ in their lives now. We decorate our homes and our Church, we play beautiful songs and hymnody, we wear blue, and red and green in anticipation of the glorious white to come. What a gift and blessing to know that our desire and our efforts to know Jesus in a new and wonderful Way are in fact being brought to fruition along the Way! Our life-long “third Advent,” is the amazing showing forth of Christ in our lives every day, and it is through the Holy Spirit that we are led to the manger. For me, Advent is one big paradox. For many (especially the children I live with), Advent “preparation” means accumulation—more shopping, more outings, more calories, more excitement and seasonal stimulation. And the culture woos us with extravagance—even bigger savings, giving your home that extra sparkle, a nice fat Christmas tree groaning with tinsel and gifts, all the while telling us—go figure—to simplify our lives. In the Christian community, of course, we shun such over-commercialization and tell ourselves that we are after an "extravagance" of meaning. Or a wealth of happy times. We are, above all, supposed to be happier this time of year than any other.
But, I’m thinking that childbirth in straw surrounded by barn animals was not happy. Nor was it simple. And I find it helpful, at least for all us "Marthas" out there (sorry, our Martha!), to remember Christ’s annoying tendency to relocate. In our hurried, harried, holiday state to produce less or buy more or make it all mean something to our children, remember that the places we expect our heavenly king to show up are not the places he turns up. The places we prepare are not necessarily the places he will come. The glitter in that tree may not be the glory of the Father. I do not believe he tops our efforts with the satisfaction and affirmation our lonely souls so desire. I believe Christ comes in weakness to weakness, in crisis to crisis, into emptiness and loss—and so, crazy as it sounds, this is where we must go to find him. In your most broken places, in your most depraved moments, be they daily or even every hour (and oh, how we need thee!)— this is where the Lord of love incarnates. This place--too broken, too lonely, too lost, too messed up for Facebook. Go to the Bethlehem that doesn’t glow like the one on Christmas cards and there you will find him. A child in my Sunday School class once captured the pain and the redemption intertwined in Christmas when he drew our darling baby Jesus, wrapped in the storybook swaddling—and pinned to a Cross. How much that simple stick figure said! The Easter church has an iconographic image, too, of Christ the newborn king, swaddled in his own shroud and standing in a tomb. Theologically speaking, the hard wood of the cross began its life as a manger. Remember St. Paul’s terminology – the whole Creation “groaning” as in childbirth. It is okay to be sad at Christmas. It is okay to feel failure and loss more sharply, to anger more readily or be only arms' length from despair. To be gravely and desperately aware that life is not now how it should be. Because Christmas puts the most perfect love into the crummiest vessels–human hearts and relationships not fit for a king--and we know it. Our spirits know it. And we are ashamed. Again! That's why the song says "fall on your knees." It is not so much the majesty that does me in as the forgiveness-- every time. Have we nothing we can give, grab at the last minute and pop into a gift bag? Nothing worthy? Nothing. It's a killer, for those of us who like to be in control of the perfect gift and the Kairos of holidays--right meal at the right time wearing the right outfit with meaning and happy memories oozing from the crust and filling the room with that "I called this one right" aroma. But that is not our Lord's table. He went to the Cross to share his flesh and blood with us. Or is it the other way around--he came in flesh and blood so that it would one day be shared? We are called to give the only thing worthy of this infant king--worthy because he has already claimed it, he's already unwrapped the present for heaven's sake and he loves it all the more--and in your surrender of that gift lies the holiest of all moments of Christmas. Come, let us adore him. Dear Creator Family,
Even a pandemic can’t touch our season of plenty. God’s abundance—abundant blessing, abundant mercy, abundant care and provision in all the ways He abides and cares for His people is harder to see in these isolating times, but it is still there. I pray you are able to experience His love and care for you in very real and tangible ways this month, and that you and your loved ones navigate the different, difficult, frustrating, lonely and sometimes heartbreaking days ahead. His “plenty” is there for the asking. We ask by praying. We ask by worshipping. We ask by fellowshipping and reaching out to the members of our church family. What do you think we were called to be together for - the good times only? In this time of loneliness and restriction, fear and suffering, hardship and honest crises of the faith--Please, my brothers in sisters in Christ, reach out to one another. See your parish church with new eyes, as a place of genuine connection and belonging so that we, strengthened, can walk together. Who knows if we will meet inside or out, in-person or online, but we are together, always, united in the love of Christ and that corporate communion we have shared for years? Let us feast on that in our hearts and feel inspired and emboldened to reach out. Please keep up the faith, and the “fight” for health, and for inner peace, calm and sanity during Thanksgiving and the coming holiday season. I promise, because He promised - his plenty is there for the asking. Speaking of plenty…we have much happening this month and next. Please keep time with us. I encourage you, as always but perhaps this year a little more, to join us in the observance of a holy and intentional Advent. Our church programs and weekly worship opportunities will be aimed at just that, and I truly hope you will consider joining us. Imagine having such nice things on your calendar, in this, our ninth month of the pandemic.
I know that ZOOM is the least desirable method of meeting/worshipping, but please try to attend our gatherings. It is what we have. It may not be that great, but we need each other, and like all signs, symbols, practices, and efforts on our part--when given fully, they become invested and imbued with the love of the Holy Spirit. In Peace, Fr. Bill The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. Here we are, in the season of the “yellow wood,” and this famous poem has captured the hearts and minds of generations since it was penned in 1915 by Poet Laureate Robert Frost. In an Autumn wood, and from the sounds of it, at an “autumn” vantage point in the narrator’s life, the wisdom of his choice is mused and meditated upon for us to see. The reader is struck by the choice and can identify in his or her own life similar decisions, choices and turning points best illuminated in hindsight. The focus of the poem is a reflection of the process that led to taking the road less traveled and, I think, encourages us to reflect in the same way. You can see this fork in the road in your mind’s eye, can’t you? Not just of a distant memory, but of the decision that lies ahead. At Camp Hanover, as you enter to drop off your camper or retrieve little Johnny a week later, a helpful counselor/guide stands where the gravel road divides, holding a giant plywood fork, probably 10-15 feet tall and spray-painted silver. I think the prop must be so that, when you call the office for instructions about bringing your camper to camp, they can say “Just go to the fork in the road and turn right….” It’s a pretty obvious sign!! Not all of our choices are this obvious, but I do believe the “fork” to be a good symbol for the choices God sometimes holds us to -- and through. We all have them; life is often the closing of one door to open another, the reluctant resolve that, try though we might, we cannot be in two places, or choose two parties or events, or be two people, at once. And we understand that “sigh,” as well, because life gets along and we often do not, in fact, go back. Spiritually understood, for people of faith, the “fork” is where we stand now and will forever stand, as this is the place of discernment and prayer, of spirit and flesh. Here, now, is the moment when I decide to follow God’s call and brave the shoddy road, the unkept path to who-knows-where; or the town road, pristine and well-maintained by planned effort. It will always be this way for us and we will always be here, because God is always showing us the alternative, the better, less-traveled road of godly intention. Yes, it appears unkept and pricks our fears of getting lost or wasting time on a dead-end, but just around that corner we will find a garden path of unimaginable possibility and beauty. On Sunday, November 22, we will hold a short Parish Meeting after the 10:30 service to elect three new Vestry members for 2021. God is calling you to serve our family and our parish in ways that glorify Him and bless you further into being His -- which path will you choose? On this day of great possibility and potential, please pray for our nation and people as we carry out our responsibility to vote.
Loving God, creator of this world who is the source of our wisdom and understanding, watch over this nation during this time of election. Help us to see how our faith informs our principles and actions. We give thanks for the right to vote. Help us to hold this privilege and responsibility with the care and awareness it merits, realizing that our vote matters and that it is an act of faith. Guide us through this election as a nation, state, and community as we vote for people to do work on our behalf and on the behalf of our communities. Help us to vote for people and ballot initiatives that will better our community and our world so it may reflect the values Christ taught us. Help us create communities that will build your kingdom here on earth – communities that will protect the poor, stand up for the vulnerable, advocate for those who are not seen and heard, and listen to everyone’s voice. We pray for this nation that is deeply divided. May we come together for the common good and do as you have called us to do – to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with you through creation. Help us act out of love, mercy and justice rather than out of arrogance or fear. Lord, continue to guide us as we work for the welfare of this world. We pray for places that are torn by violence, that they may know peace. We pray for communities who are struggling with inequality, unrest, and fear. May we all work toward reconciliation with one another and with God. Help us to listen in love, work together in peace, and collaborate with one another as we seek the betterment of our community and world. Lord God our Creator, guide us in truth and love, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:2
I have been talking a lot about prayer as we navigate the waters of COVID unrest, and I have been asked about the practice of “unthinking” as an act of prayer. When we use the word “unthinking,” more than likely what we are alluding to is apophatic practice - apophatic from the Greek apophemi which means “to deny.” We understand apophatic in the context of prayer in two ways: First, the process of denying oneself the comfort of the familiar images and practices, and second, denying (or unlearning) our understanding of God. In practice it looks like this: We approach God in prayer aware we know God in certain ways and are comforted by that familiarity. Our prayer time begins with the conscious process of unknowing or negating that familiarity by appealing to God conscious of our prayer habit. We then ask God to help us “unknow” God’s self from the perspective of our comfort or our distress and approach God in prayer as a neophyte - a beginner, willing and anticipating the revelation of God in wonderous and miraculous ways! Those who begin to study “the Way of negation” often find it confusing or even silly, but it is, in fact, a powerful method through which a deeper and more profound relationship with God will be possible. Try this during your prayer time: be very observant of how you pray, what you say and how you say it, and by extension, how your prayer method draws a picture of God. Now try to unthink or un-practice that image by expanding the God of your picture to be bigger. The mistake often made when learning apophatic prayer processes is thinking we are making God smaller and less personal, but it is quite the opposite. Don’t be discouraged if you have a hard time trying this; just laugh it off, thank God for being patient and try again. There is growth in the effort as well as the achievement, and new images and a greater understanding of God will follow. …be transformed by the renewal of your mind! Peace, Fr. Bill+ Good Day, Creator Family,
In his letter to the Philippians, St. Paul encourages his listeners to “rejoice in the Lord always!” Rejoice literally means to “show joy”-- and for people of faith, showing joy is offering up praise to God in Christ Jesus. There are good times and bad times, but unlike us, God is not curtailed or discouraged by the fleeting “chances and changes” of this world. God’s presence is eternal and changeless, and God invites us into God’s own changelessness through the intervention of the Holy Spirit. Though it’s not always easy, we need not be wearied, but rather filled with joy as we praise God in Christ Jesus for all that we are and all that we have been given through the promise of salvation! The pandemic has certainly been an upheaval to our lives and a disruption to our regular routine, even now after six months. Remember the “code” word in the early days of the virus—“unprecedented.” I think it’s safe to say the new code words are “life changing.” Those of us still yearning to return, to go back to our “normal” ways are realizing that that possibility is gone. But our hope for a new creation, a NEW way of living and being, must not go with it! This is why we need, all the more, to embrace the presence of God in our lives and allow the Joy of Christ Jesus to fill us! Yes, we will stumble and falter, but God’s faithfulness and belief in us is abiding and constant. God remains to hold us and reignite our joy and peace in believing. In our parish, our movement towards God has never stopped or faltered. We are grateful and praise God as we strive to witness and build an awareness of the presence of God in our community and throughout the world! We have responded to COVID-19 by energetically pursuing an on-line presence through ZOOM and YouTube. We have broadcasted every Sunday service and weekday event since the lockdown began, and we are constantly innovating to stay ahead of the curve and ensure a seamless presence no matter what. God is at work here, friends; at work in the effort and the energy in our fellowship, our weekly study, our worship—be it virtual or in person. The actual, visible work on our parish in the form of painting and repair (Have you seen it? It’s certainly “something new”!) for me, is an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible yet abiding fire of the Holy Spirit. There are a couple of other “unseen” or less seen witnesses to our efforts to grow in our weekly worship life. To this Ministry of Presence we have added the position of Audio Visual Specialist, and are pleased to recognize Will Burk for his hard work and dedication. Will has been instrumental in the development process as well as a tireless worker fabricating and tuning the electronic pieces of a very complicated A/V puzzle. We are blessed every Sunday as we worship the Lord by Will’s dedication to Christ and his desire to serve the Lord in this ministry. Mary Ford, our Parish Secretary, has also gone “above and beyond” in her service and dedication. Mary has been available every Sunday to address any issues that have come up and is a joyful companion as we strive to overcome difficulties that would otherwise sideline our plans. Your faithful Vestry has continued to pray, meet and call on members to knit our Body, and we are entering into a time of outwardly voiced stewardship. In this “Harvest” time of year, each year, we give thanks to God by offering our tithes in the form of financial support of our parish and ministries. To that end, you will find a newly developed Stewardship page. This is basically an on-line Stewardship Card with the exact wording of the physical card you are used to receiving in past years. While the spiritual, emotional and financial aspects of making a pledge to our parish is a multi-layered and time-worthy process between your and our faithful God, the logistical process of pledging is simple, and the information secure and protected. The report is delivered straight to our Pledge Secretary and is password protected for you protection. CLICK HERE for our new secure online Pledge Card. As always, if you would prefer a physical card, simply email or call the Office and Mary will send you one in the mail or you may pick it up when you came to Church on Sunday! We are connected through the indwelling Holy Spirit and as we strive to deepen our connection with each other and our God, we are privileged to have the tools to stay connected even in unusual times. Faithfully in Christ, Fr. Bill+ A Message from Bishop +Francis C. Gray
Once upon a time, a young man with a troubled heart came to Jesus. “Rabbi,” he said, “what must I do to inherit the kingdom?” “Follow the commandments,” Jesus told him. The young man had done this, and told Jesus so. Jesus looked at this well dressed, yet troubled young man and liked what he saw. The man was respectful and well mannered, and his eyes showed a deep questing for truth, but the man seemed to be missing something. “One thing you lack,” Jesus said, “Go, sell what you have, give to the poor, and come and follow me.” The young man could not do this, and went away. This saddened Jesus, for he loved the young man. There are resources in our congregation to do anything we choose to do, yet there are people who go away from us sorrowing, angry, or frustrated, because they cannot, or will not, give. I have seen parishioners spend hundreds of hours working at bazaars and fairs, trying to coax money from the community, when their own tithes would garner much more money than a bake sale ever could, and would do so with much less effort. The fact that it seems easier to let someone else pay to keep our congregation going leads me to believe that we, like the rich young ruler in the gospel, suffer from a spiritual disease. Until we can deal with our possessions, we never can reach out to others. Evangelism and stewardship are intimately joined. We must be willing to share our faith with others, and it is our privilege to work, pray, and give for the spread of the kingdom of God. But, perhaps we should work on stewardship first, for until we can understand ourselves and our relationship with God, we will have nothing to share with others. I define stewardship as everything we do after we have said yes to God. Three concepts are key to stewardship: creation, mystery, and redemption. Stewardship and creation- For the Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods. In his hand are the caverns of the earth and the heights of the hills are his also. The sea is his for he made it, and his hands have molded the dry land. ~Psalm 95 Stewardship must be seen first in terms of creation. God made all things, holds all things in being at all moments in time, and God will call for the return of all things. We are the caretakers of matter, which belongs to God. The paper on which I write, the pen I use, the money I spend, the children who live with my wife and me, all come from God, belong to God, and return to God. I need to be very careful with my use of the possessive pronoun. All things, all people, and indeed, the air we breathe is on loan from God. I am a steward of the air I breathe, and of the space I occupy on this planet. Therefore, my judicious use of the resources at my disposal is the act of a caretaker. The molecules of air I breathe will continue to be recycled and rearranged long after I am dead. I have not created a speck of air; all of it has been loaned to me. I am a steward, and God is the giver of all that I have. Stewardship is a mystery. This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God ~I Cor. 4:1 All of life is a mystery. It is mysterious that someone could love me and commit herself to me in marriage for life. It is a mystery that genes and chromosomes are reproduced and passed from generation to generation. It is a mystery that God became a human in Jesus, and is represented to us continually in bread and wine, in word and sacrament. It is a mystery that people continue to find comfort in tired liturgies, ill prepared sermons, half-hearted sung music. It is a tragic mystery that people kill each other; that people persist in the use of drugs; that we persist in thinking that more money, clothes, gadgets, and weapons will bring us inner peace. Mystery is a reality which is inexhaustible and unpredictable. A culture of utility, which seeks to define, measure, use and manipulate matter will find mystery difficult to live with. Our culture thinks in terms of problems to be solved, tasks to be accomplished, not relationships to be nurtured. “If the Church needs money, then let’s have a bake sale. It is easier than exploring the sacramental relationship between myself and my checkbook.” Stewardship is redemptive. Only a fool would not give away that which he cannot keep in order to gain something he cannot lose. ~Nate Saint, martyr God promises me life eternal. That promise was pledged at my baptism and is lived out by God’s grace given each day. The life of grace which I am called to live is my response to God’s gift. I cannot pay God back, nor can I bribe God to give me more of what was given. God’s gift is full and complete. I return my gifts to God not because God needs them, but because I need to give. As a child gives unneeded dandelions to a parent, I give my tithes to God; not out of duty, but out of love. It is the least I can do, because God has given me all things. At the very heart of my redemptive offering to God is money, for my heart and treasure are in the same place. Most people will offer time and talent gladly, because bake sales, rummage sales, raffles, and the like don’t get to the heart of the matter. With these activities, I see a return on my investment. But when I give money without strings attached, I lose control. It is a mystery beyond my control. As with every mystery, God gives an outward sign to help us appropriate the inward grace. As bread and wine signify the reality of the presence of the risen Christ in our midst, the tithe is an outward sign of the mystery of giving. The mystery is that God continues to love me no matter what I give back or keep to myself. The mystery is that I keep on struggling with this love affair I have with God even though I know the stakes are high and the worldly advantages are not the best. Tithing puts flesh on my commitment. It shows that I attempt to believe that all things are owned by God. It shows that I attempt to live into the mystery of my relationship with God. And tithing shows that I will not allow others to pay for my faith through their purchase of my leftover junk at the garage sale. To pay for missionaries in Honduras, to keep the lights on in the parish, or to make sure that the rector gets a living wage, I have to tithe. This I must do, because our Lord had me in mind when he said, “Where your treasure is, there will be your heart be also.” I have been purchased with a price, the price of Calvary, and nothing I give can increase the value of that gift. But I do know that my sacrificial gift to God is a sign that God has gotten to my heart. Peace to you in your prayers and reflection on the bounty the Lord has showered upon you, The Rt. Rev. +Francis C. Gray Assisting Bishop of the Diocese of Virginia (retired) |
AuthorFather Bill Burk† Archives
February 2025
Categories |