Homily for Easter II, Year A, 2008
Preached at Holy Trinity Anglican Church, Thornhill, ON
Sunday, March 30, 2008
The Rev. Daniel F. Graves
Hebrews 11:1, 1 Peter 1:3-9, John 20:24-29
“Faith is the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things unseen.”
Hebrews 11:1
Thomas demands a sign. He demands to know if the one spoken of by his fellows is truly his Lord and his master. If my Lord walks again, then he shall bear the wounds of his passion. Show me the wounds of Christ, show me the marks of his death, and then I shall proclaim, “He lives.” He demands no more or less than any of his fellows. When Mary Magdalene met her Lord in the garden, Peter refused to believe her word and only a face-to-face encounter would allay his doubt. The other disciples, too, demanded to see him. Is Thomas any different from the rest; is Thomas any different from us? Let me touch the Lord with my hands and I shall know he lives.
“My soul takes no pleasure in anyone who shrinks back,” writes the author of the epistle to the Hebrews. Thomas did not shrink back. In spite of his pain and sadness and the wound of loss that he carried within his soul, he did not shrink back. And like the prophets of old about which St. Peter speaks, he sought out his salvation by “careful searching and inquiry.” The Gospel of St. John is known as a Gospel of signs. Jesus travels around the countryside giving signs to the people of Galilee and Judea that he is sent from the Father. Thomas is a good student, and having learned to look for a sign, he demands it. “Show me the marks of his death and I shall believe.” Show me the body. But is it enough simply to see the body, even if it walks?
The body of Jesus that the disciples encounter behind the locked doors of that house in Jerusalem is a body still bearing the marks of the crucifixion. It is a wounded body; it is a broken body. When the disciples meet their Risen Lord they meet the man who gave his life for many and in beholding his hands and his side, there can be no doubt that this is Jesus who died. This is the body of our Lord Jesus Christ, broken for you.
The body of Jesus that the disciples encounter behind the locked doors of that house in Jerusalem is also a body that has been transformed in its Resurrection. While it still bears the marks of the Crucifixion, it is also a body that is no longer constrained by the mechanisms of humanly manufactured locks and keys. It is a body that moves through walls and ascends on high. It is a body that miraculously appears to his disciples, on the seashore, in the garden, in a locked house. It is a mystical body – a body of which we are invited to be part; a body that we are to feed on in our hearts by faith and thanksgiving, preserving our bodies and souls unto everlasting life.
Thomas beholds the body of his Lord with his hands and cries out “My Lord and My God.” The strongest, boldest, most revolutionary claim for the Messiahship, nay, the divine kingship of Jesus in the entire New Testament, is given here, found on the lips of the so-called doubting apostle.
“Faith is the assurance of things hoped for...”
Thomas hoped beyond hope that what he would encounter would be his master and friend, once again present to him. Thomas hoped beyond hope that what others had witnessed would be real to him, too.
“Faith is the conviction of things unseen...”
What did Thomas see? He saw a man who supposedly died a week before standing before him. He felt the wound on his side and the marks on his hands and beheld the marks of Jesus’ passion. But what did he really see. Would the appearance of a man thought dead convince any of us that he was God among us, the Word Incarnate? Could this not be a trick? What did Thomas really see, beyond the wounds, beyond the man?
The assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen. Thomas saw and believed. Thomas saw a promise, the promise of his Lord, “Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the age.” He saw a promise fulfilled that his Lord would not leave him, that his Lord comes to him even in his darkest moment of sadness, doubt and despair – Lo! I am with you, Thomas.
What did he see? What did he feel? What did he know in his heart? “Peace” says Jesus, “my peace I give to you and my peace I leave with you.” That is the conviction of things unseen, beyond the wounds, beyond the man, the very peace of God which passeth all understanding. The Risen Jesus stood not only before him, but within him, Thomas feeding on his Lord by faith, with thanksgiving.
The assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things unseen. For Thomas and the others, seeing was believing. But St. John, knowing that the time would come when seeing would no longer be possible, committed to writing the story of Thomas, and so many other stories, written, in his own words, “that we might believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that in believing, we might have life.” And so it is true for us, as St. Peter wrote so long ago, “Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribably and glorious joy!”
We may not see him as Thomas, Mary Magdalene or Peter beheld him, but oh, we do meet him. For week by week we feed on the bread of life and that life is the light of all people. As we take the bread in our hands, the body of our Lord Jesus Christ, we behold, inwardly by faith, his head, his hands, his side, the sorrow and the blood. But as we receive the sacrament of his passion we also become filled joy, with the light of the Lord. The Word made flesh enters into us raising us to new life, in this world and the next. As we behold our Lord in our hands, we draw near with faith. We draw near even in our own fear, with our own doubts, with our own wounds and in our own sadnesss, and we dare not shrink back, because we know him in our hearts -- he stands risen, not only before us, but also within us -- the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things unseen. And we, like Thomas, feel moved to shout with all assurance and with all conviction, “My Lord and my God.”
Copyright 2008 by the Rev. Daniel F. Graves. This homily may not be reproduced or redistributed, either in whole or part, by any means, without the express, written permission of the author.
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
The Gift of Faith
Sermon for Proper 27, Year C
Sunday, October 7th, 2007
Preached at Holy Trinity Anglican Church, Thornhill, ON
The Rev. Daniel F. Graves
Text: Luke 17:5-10
“Lord, increase our faith.”
A group of disciples asked Jesus to increase their faith. Now this does not sound like an unreasonable request. Who would not want to have more faith rather than less? Indeed, many of us, more frequently than we would care to admit, recognize the sad truth that our faith might be somewhat lacking. We gaze around us and see others who seem to have a greater faith than we have in the midst of the adversities of life. And for those of us who follow our Anglican calendar of saints’ days, we read nearly every day about someone who is commemorated for the strength of their faith. Thus, who can blame those disciples, so much like you and me, for approaching Jesus and asking him, “Lord, increase our faith…” is this not our prayer, as well?
Jesus rebukes them, using a parable about slavery, which might, at first, seem a bit removed from our modern sensibilities. But if I read today’s gospel correctly, I think that beneath the trappings of the parable, we can ascertain a certain truth, and learn two things: First, that faith is not something that needs to increase, per se, but to simply exist; and secondly, that by quantifying faith, we can fall into the trap that we are either better off, or worse off, than other brothers and sisters of faith.
To speak to the first point, Jesus uses the imagery of the mustard seed. Even if your faith were like this little tiny seed, you are still equipped to do my work – you are still equipped to be my hands and my feet for the bringing about of the Kingdom of God here on earth. Faith is not something that if you have more of it you are a better Christian, or if you have less of it, you are a worse Christian. In the eyes of God, God’s children are all equal, both as objects of love and as ministers of the gospel. A Christian is a Christian is a Christian. There are no favourites, there are no special Christians, there are no inadequate Christians. As the song tells us we are all precious in his sight. So, in this sense, the prayer “Lord, increase our faith,” while well-meaning, is misguided. I wonder if our prayer should be, rather, “Lord, we give thanks to you for the faith you have given us, now help us to live faithfully into our new life in Christ.”
I think many of us are confused about faith. We often act as if it is something that we can achieve if we work hard enough, strive hard enough, pray hard enough, or struggle hard enough – that it is something to be attained through perseverance, and therefore, only granted to the few. But, thanks be to God, faith is not something for which we strive, work or struggle. It is a gift, a gift that comes from God – a gift for all Christians, in our baptism. Under our own power, we have no faith, but through God’s gracious love, we are granted the gift of faith. And thus, even in our darkest, most human moments when we cannot seem to be faithful, especially under our own power, we can take great solace from the fact that faith come not from own wellspring, but from the dayspring from on high.
As to the second point, in using an illustration about not thanking slaves for the work that they are supposed to do, Jesus is cautioning his disciples about thinking too much of themselves and their own powers. There can be no doubt, the choice of slavery as a tool to illustrate this point is surely distasteful to us today. Furthermore, there will be many amongst us, probably in this Church, who have been beaten down in their lives and told the lie that they are worthless and of little value. The point of this parable is not to add to such abuse, but rather disarm potential abusers – particularly those who practice a sort of spiritual abuse, often unknowingly, based on the fact that they believe they have a greater faith than others. I believe that Jesus is trying to tell his disciples that when they ask for an “increase” in faith, they are asking that they might be better than others, who have “little” faith. And certainly the temptation for those who believe their faith is strong, is also, sooner or later, to take credit for this fact themselves. And we all know in our soberest moments, that the faith is not ours but that of the one who faithfully called us, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. This parable reminds us that when we think of faith in terms of “quantity” or “quality” we not only take credit for that faith ourselves, but we inadvertently demean the faith of others. And are we not all equally precious in his sight? Is it not His faith, rather than our own?
So again, what is our response to the gift of faith if not “increase it”? Rather, reflecting on this parable, I suggest this: “Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices, who wondrous things hath done, in whom this world rejoices.” Shall our response be “give me more, give me more” or shall it be, “thank you, thank you, Lord, for the greatest gift, the gift of faith." Shall our prayer be one of ingratitude or gratitude? May God give us the grace to thank Him for the wondrous things He hath done, and the gift of discernment to faithfully take up the call to share this Good News with others.
Copyright 2007 by the Rev. Daniel F. Graves. This post may not be reproduced or redistributed, either in whole or part, without the express written permission of the author.
Sunday, October 7th, 2007
Preached at Holy Trinity Anglican Church, Thornhill, ON
The Rev. Daniel F. Graves
Text: Luke 17:5-10
“Lord, increase our faith.”
A group of disciples asked Jesus to increase their faith. Now this does not sound like an unreasonable request. Who would not want to have more faith rather than less? Indeed, many of us, more frequently than we would care to admit, recognize the sad truth that our faith might be somewhat lacking. We gaze around us and see others who seem to have a greater faith than we have in the midst of the adversities of life. And for those of us who follow our Anglican calendar of saints’ days, we read nearly every day about someone who is commemorated for the strength of their faith. Thus, who can blame those disciples, so much like you and me, for approaching Jesus and asking him, “Lord, increase our faith…” is this not our prayer, as well?
Jesus rebukes them, using a parable about slavery, which might, at first, seem a bit removed from our modern sensibilities. But if I read today’s gospel correctly, I think that beneath the trappings of the parable, we can ascertain a certain truth, and learn two things: First, that faith is not something that needs to increase, per se, but to simply exist; and secondly, that by quantifying faith, we can fall into the trap that we are either better off, or worse off, than other brothers and sisters of faith.
To speak to the first point, Jesus uses the imagery of the mustard seed. Even if your faith were like this little tiny seed, you are still equipped to do my work – you are still equipped to be my hands and my feet for the bringing about of the Kingdom of God here on earth. Faith is not something that if you have more of it you are a better Christian, or if you have less of it, you are a worse Christian. In the eyes of God, God’s children are all equal, both as objects of love and as ministers of the gospel. A Christian is a Christian is a Christian. There are no favourites, there are no special Christians, there are no inadequate Christians. As the song tells us we are all precious in his sight. So, in this sense, the prayer “Lord, increase our faith,” while well-meaning, is misguided. I wonder if our prayer should be, rather, “Lord, we give thanks to you for the faith you have given us, now help us to live faithfully into our new life in Christ.”
I think many of us are confused about faith. We often act as if it is something that we can achieve if we work hard enough, strive hard enough, pray hard enough, or struggle hard enough – that it is something to be attained through perseverance, and therefore, only granted to the few. But, thanks be to God, faith is not something for which we strive, work or struggle. It is a gift, a gift that comes from God – a gift for all Christians, in our baptism. Under our own power, we have no faith, but through God’s gracious love, we are granted the gift of faith. And thus, even in our darkest, most human moments when we cannot seem to be faithful, especially under our own power, we can take great solace from the fact that faith come not from own wellspring, but from the dayspring from on high.
As to the second point, in using an illustration about not thanking slaves for the work that they are supposed to do, Jesus is cautioning his disciples about thinking too much of themselves and their own powers. There can be no doubt, the choice of slavery as a tool to illustrate this point is surely distasteful to us today. Furthermore, there will be many amongst us, probably in this Church, who have been beaten down in their lives and told the lie that they are worthless and of little value. The point of this parable is not to add to such abuse, but rather disarm potential abusers – particularly those who practice a sort of spiritual abuse, often unknowingly, based on the fact that they believe they have a greater faith than others. I believe that Jesus is trying to tell his disciples that when they ask for an “increase” in faith, they are asking that they might be better than others, who have “little” faith. And certainly the temptation for those who believe their faith is strong, is also, sooner or later, to take credit for this fact themselves. And we all know in our soberest moments, that the faith is not ours but that of the one who faithfully called us, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. This parable reminds us that when we think of faith in terms of “quantity” or “quality” we not only take credit for that faith ourselves, but we inadvertently demean the faith of others. And are we not all equally precious in his sight? Is it not His faith, rather than our own?
So again, what is our response to the gift of faith if not “increase it”? Rather, reflecting on this parable, I suggest this: “Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices, who wondrous things hath done, in whom this world rejoices.” Shall our response be “give me more, give me more” or shall it be, “thank you, thank you, Lord, for the greatest gift, the gift of faith." Shall our prayer be one of ingratitude or gratitude? May God give us the grace to thank Him for the wondrous things He hath done, and the gift of discernment to faithfully take up the call to share this Good News with others.
Copyright 2007 by the Rev. Daniel F. Graves. This post may not be reproduced or redistributed, either in whole or part, without the express written permission of the author.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)