Showing posts with label Romans 12. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romans 12. Show all posts

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Rejoice in Hope - A Homily for Proper 22, Year A, 2011

Homily for Proper 22, Year A, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Trinity Church, Bradford & St. Paul’s Coulson’s Hill
The Rev. Daniel F. Graves
Text: Romans 12:9-21

“Rejoice in hope.”
--Romans 12:12

Despair is a disease. It is a very contagious disease. Where it infects one, it quickly spreads to another, and very soon, despair becomes an epidemic. There is something in our human condition that makes especially prone to despair, that makes us exceptionally vulnerable. That is why when our leaders peddle despair, when they choose to speak about fear and impending doom, be it in the church or the world, even when they are doing so with apparently honest motives, it always backfires. Just think how quickly the media jumps on bad news and seeks to rebroadcast, and indeed recast it in even more despairing tones of hopelessness. Just think about how often you pick up the phone or go off to your computer to share a piece of bad news with someone else. Despair spreads as quickly and perniciously as any avian flu or SARS.

In his book, The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell writes about how little things can make a big difference. He underscores that epidemics can be destructive, but also that there are good epidemics, positive epidemics, and that there is always something that tips them from being simply and isolated phenomena into a phenomenon that falls upon everyone. He gives a particular example when he writes about the “broken window” concept. In the early 1980’s, the New York subway system was a disaster. Every train was covered in graffiti, fare evasion was rampant, and violent crime so prevalent that ordinary folk would avoid the subway at all cost. The authorities attempted unsuccessfully to treat the symptoms of violent crime, but it was not until a new general manager was hired, who dealt aggressively with the problems of petty crime (graffiti, fare evasion) that things began to change. What that new manager did was essentially to fix the broken window. Broken windows are one ways that epidemics spread. If we see a broken window, we are more tempted to break another, to further vandalize the property, or simply to fall into the apathy of despair and not even bother to try to fix the window, the dilapidated building, and make things better.

If we are prone to despair, though, I believe we also long for hope. Even more than being prone to despair, I believe we are a people programmed for hopefulness. It may come with great difficulty, but ultimately, I believe we long to see the best, hope for the best, and believe in the best. If we are indeed made in the image and likeness of God, who longs for the best, hopes for the best and believes in the best for humanity, than this should come as no surprise.

Yet, we find ourselves mired in despair. But time and time again, remarkable, little things begin to happen. We want the subway system to be safe, we want our political system to work, we want the broken windows to be fixed. This week we witnessed an outpouring of hope. This week we buried at great leader of this nation, a leader who spoke words of hope to a people so prone to despair. This week, in the midst of death and profound loss, hope became an epidemic. The small gesture of a final will and testament, final words of exhortation left by Jack Layton to Canadians was an offering of words of hopefulness that love, hope and optimism are better than the things that would seek to crush us. People gathered, and rain could not wash away tributes chalked onto the plaza of Nathan Philips Square. A tipping point, I believe. And lest this become about the politics of one man, let us not forget the extraordinary gesture of our Prime Minister in offering an unprecedented state funeral to the leaders of Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition. A friend of mine, and ex-pat American wondered on Facebook if this would have happened in polarized America? I hope and believe that the potential is there, too. Yes, some will criticize our Prime Minister of making a political move, and others will criticize the funeral organizers of organizing one last political rally, but those who do so are purveyors of despair and I encourage you not to buy into their cynicism. When did politics become such a dirty word? Politics is about serving the people of polis, the city, the community, the nation. A political move should not be considered a bad thing, but a principled stand on seeking to do the best for the people we seek to serve. Both the late, lamented leader of Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition and our Prime Minister made political moves this week. They both did so with dignity, passion, and deep and profound hopefulness. We learned from both of them that politics can be hopeful and that cynicism and despair can be cast aside.

I have grown up in a Church that has been known as being less than hopeful. Pierre Berton’s Comfortable Pew has left a bitter legacy in the history of the Canadian Church. Church politics for the last forty years or so have been governed by fear: Declining attendance, lawsuits concerning residential schools, insufficient budgets, issues that divide such as the inclusion of gay and lesbian people in the life of the Church. Given this legacy, why are any of us here? And indeed, many are not here because the politics of fear has driven them away. But I heard some remarkable words recently. I attended a town hall meeting held by Archbishop Johnson in Barrie. It was an opportunity for him to answer questions and to listen to what people in this diocese are saying. There were many words of encouragement spoken. People spoke of the exciting things that were happening in their parishes. Even in tiny parishes that have traditionally been maligned for being small, we heard reports of the Spirit moving in wonderful ways. It was like the sign that hangs over the fictional record store in Stuart MacLean’s Vinyl CafĂ©, which reads proudly “We’re not big, but we’re small!” Then the Archbishop spoke these very profound words, “Everywhere I go, I see signs of hope; I see signs of God at work. I do not see the naysayers proved right. People are tired of bad news. People are tired about hearing about the demise of the Church. People are tired of it, and it is simply not true. Wherever I go I see Good News and I see hope.”

This week on the national scene people made a claim for hope. People who profoundly disagreed with Jack Layton’s politics said yes to his words of hope. Why did these words make such a profound impression upon us? It is because we are a people who, though prone to fear and despair desperately long for words of hope because deep down we do believe that hope is better, strong and greater than fear.

Every time I officiate at a wedding, I underscore a certain point, that in a world that knows much brokenness and hopelessness, I am standing before a couple that is saying “no” to such things, and instead, offering a profound “yes” to love and to hope, in the midst of their family and friends, and that love and hope has the power to change the world. In a prayer for the couple from the marriage liturgy we read, “May their lives together be a sacrament of your love to this broken world, so that unity may overcome estrangement, forgiveness heal guilt, and joy overcome despair.” Sound familiar? We pray that every marriage will be a “tipping point” in the glorious epidemic of hope.

A small thing: the birth of a tiny babe in stable. This is the most profound and hopeful act since the creation of humankind. God hoped. God believed. God hoped and believed that Joseph and Mary of Nazareth would take this tiny babe and nurture and care for it, in a world of profound infant mortality, in a world occupied by a Roman oppressor, in backwater Judea, God hoped and believed. God hoped and believed that at least a few would follow the young man, that at least some would find his preaching transformative, his preaching of an upside-down kingdom where the last are first. God hoped and believed that the young man would see it through to the end, even as the man longed for the cup to be passed. God hoped and believed that those who turned away would once again follow. God hoped and believed that death would not win the day. And it has not. God hoped and believed that others would catch the vision of hope and love.

A small thing: the birth of a tiny babe in a stable. A tipping point.

Years later a zealous missionary, having caught the vision, would write in his Epistle to the Romans, “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honour. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers …. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

We shall return home from this place, and surely as I am standing here, we will turn on the radio, television or internet. We will hear peddlers of despair, but they shall not, nor shall their message overwhelm us, hurt us or destroy us, for the point has tipped. We are bearers of Good News; we proclaim hope, and hope changes lives.

Rejoice in hope.

c.2011, the Rev. Daniel F. Graves

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Prayer as Being

Homily for Proper 22, Year A
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Holy Trinity Anglican Church, Thornhill ON
The Rev. Daniel F. Graves
Text: Romans 12:9-21


“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
-- Romans 12:21

In today’s epistle, the Apostle reiterates some of the most important teachings that we find in the Gospel. He admonishes his audience to be genuine in love, hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good, love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in honour. Be ardent, zealous, hopeful, patient in suffering, persevere in prayer, and contribute to the needs of the saints. And finally, do not repay evil with evil, but overcome evil with good. Is it not true that many, if not all of these Christian virtues are difficult to observe and maintain? How many of us are truly able to turn the other cheek, or offer hospitality to one who has offended us? Are any of these virtues actually possible? How many of us actually live with the belief that good will indeed overcome evil?

If we have learned anything over the past several weeks of journeying with Paul, I hope that it is this, that these things are not possible without Christ. Indeed, if we seek these virtues under our own power we shall never attain to them. If these virtues are at all possible, it is our Lord and God working through us in Jesus Christ -- not me, but Christ in me. This is why the Apostle commands us to persevere in prayer. Prayer is at the heart of the Christian life. In prayer we bring before God the pains and sorrows of this weary world, and in prayer we lay before God our own brokenness and our sinfulness. What is more, in prayer we receive great peace. In prayer God enfolds us in love. In prayer, when all about us comes crashing down and all seems lost, God enfolds us in his loving arms and keeps us and reminds us that all shall indeed be well. In prayer, God reminds us not to be overcome by the world but to meet the world in its suffering.

Indeed, it was in suffering world to which our Lord Jesus Christ stretched out his hands on the cross, and it was this same suffering world that he redeemed in his Resurrection. Even on the road to the cross, even in Gethsemane, even on Golgotha – Jesus Christ was not overcome by evil, but overcame evil with good, for on the third day, as we all know, he rose from the dead, reconciling all things to God.

Yes, it is difficult for us to live with Christian virtue, to live in love and charity with our neighbour, and to love those who persecute us. But look to our Lord on the Cross and remember this, it is not me but Christ in me. It is not you, but Christ in you. Friends, if we rely on our own power to overcome evil with good, it shall never be done. But if we rely on Christ, who transforms us and transforms the world, all things are possible. It is not simply a matter of “what would Jesus do?” but “what has Jesus done.” He has trampled down the power of sin and death. He has overcome evil with what is good. And in him we have died to our old selves in order that we might be alive to God.

This is the truth to which Paul has spoken throughout the letter to the Romans, and this is the truth into which we are called to live. If we live into this truth we shall indeed be transformed and those Christian virtues that seem so difficult for each of us will become a way of life.

A man came to Jesus and asked him to heal his child who was severely afflicted. “Just believe,” Jesus told him. What was the man’s response? Was it not the response that might come from the lips of any of us – words of hope and yet words of doubt? “Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief.” This is where most of us stand, is it not, with a desire to believe, a desire to live the Christian life, but with a fear that it is all an illusion? Yet, in Jesus’ presence, the man was encouraged and his prayer was granted.

Persevere in prayer. This is perhaps the most important encouragement in today’s passage from Romans. It is, of course, a vow that each of us have made in our baptisms: “Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?” And what is our answer? “I will with God’s help.” Paul knows that we cannot do it on our own and thus in our Baptism we make our promise, which is actually a plea for help.

Persevere in prayer. How shall we do this? And is persevering in prayer a “work” toward our salvation, the kind of thing that Paul cautions against? I do not think so. For prayer, although often described as a work (and to be sure, prayer does take effort and discipline), is actually a way of being. It is a relationship rather than a task. Relationships take time and effort, but they are primarily about simply being together. So it is with prayer. Thus, if we believe that prayer is not so much a task but a relationship, then we believe that prayer is simply about being with God.

Now, how do we set about being with God, which is, I believe the primary task of prayer? First, I think that we must set aside a regular time to be with God, everyday. A relationship that does not have intention and commitment is really not a relationship at all. Set aside some time, even just a little bit. Think of how much joy it brings to you and a spouse, a friend or child, to have a regular bit of time together, even if it is just for a short while. Take the time.

Next, be intentional about how you spend the time. Any relationship is built upon shared experience and mutual conversation. What might time with God look like and what shape will our conversation take? Traditionally, our shared experience as a Christian people is the Holy Scripture. The Bible is our story. Our conversation is our reflection on this story, our grappling with it, our questioning of it, our praying it. There are many ways of prayer, but as Anglicans we have a particular gift, the gift of the Daily Office. The Daily Office is a daily cycle of daily prayer and reading in which we hear and pray the word of God day-by-day as a way of being with God and talking with God. If we hope to become a people with a passionate spirituality, then we must listen to God in our Holy Scripture and converse with God in prayer. There can be no substitute. We hear people say that the Bible does not have meaning for them, but have they chosen to take the time to read it faithfully in the context of prayer?

To this end, I issue you a challenge. I am calling this challenge “The Gospel of Mark Challenge.” I am encouraging, even challenging you, to take fifteen minutes every day to pray the Daily Office and read a little bit of Mark’s Gospel from beginning to end. The Gospel of St. Mark has sixteen chapters. This means that by reading half a chapter a day, you can read it through in about a month. But read it through as part of a little service that you do at a set time of the day, a time of your choosing. Many of you will own a Book of Alternative Services or Book of Common Prayer. Morning and Evening Prayer can be found in both these books. You can do a fuller or abbreviated service, depending on how you feel. You can do Morning or Evening Prayer; it is your choice. Each service makes provision for readings from Scripture. You don’t have to read a lot, just half a chapter of Mark (that’s a couple of paragraphs). Make the space in your life for a relationship with God, and be intentional about how you will use the time.

Finally, I offer two other thoughts. These thoughts are intended to help you keep at it. First, if you miss a day, that’s okay. No need to double-up on your reading or prayers. Just pick up where you left off. There is no pressure to meet any deadline. The only imperative is that we start today, not tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes. Secondly, let’s read together shall we? I’ll make the commitment to read along beside you in my daily prayer. Furthermore, I’m making the commitment to be available to you to help you in your reading: Drop me an email, leave me a voicemail message. I will be reflecting regularly on my website about interesting and challenging bits of the text, and attempting to reflect on questions that emerge. I invite you to journey with me.

As I said earlier, prayer is not so much about doing. It is about being – being with God and being together as a Christian people. If we persevere in prayer we shall find God waiting patiently for us. And we shall find a God who helps us in our weakness and comforts us in our sorrow. We shall find a God who will be virtuous when we cannot be virtuous, who forgives when we cannot forgive, who does all those things that Paul commands even when we cannot. Yet, we shall also find that his virtues will become our virtues and yes, come to discover that his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

Text Copyright 2008 by the Rev. Daniel F. Graves. This homily may not be reproduced or redistributed by any means, either in whole or part, without the express, written permission of the author.