A Sacramental Perspective on Matthew 25:31-46

So as not to go 0 for 2017 in blog posts, I thought I would interrupt the silence and post this morning's sermon, since it is a good barometer of where I am theologically and spiritually these days.

Christ the King Sunday Year A Matthew 25:31-46

You’re going to figure this out soon enough, but the word of the day for this sermon is "perspective", meaning the where and the how we view things, our point of view, or our vantage point.  We just heard Jesus talk about sheep and goats, but let me use cats and dogs to illustrate a point about the importance of recognizing the perspective from which we view the world around us.

Dogs, like the ones on our family farm I visited over the Thanksgiving holiday, look up at you with those big brown eyes, wagging their tail, as if they are thinking to themself: “You love me, you feed me, you care for me, you take me for walks... you must be God”. Cats, on the other hand, like our dear Mellow whom we adopted from the shelter last year, look at you with those piercing eyes, thinking to themself:  “You love me, you feed me, you care for me, you pet me ... I must be God”. (Joke adapted from a sermon by Steven Sizer: www.stevensizer.com) Recognizing our perspective – the vantage point from which we look at the things around us - matters.

Today is Christ the King Sunday – the last day of the church year, before we begin a new church year with the season of Advent next week. A day that we can take a step back and look at the world from a new perspective.  A perspective which reveals to us how Christ the King is a very, very different kind of king. A perspective which shows us how Christ is a king whose crown is thorns, not jewels, A perspective which shows us that his king’s throne is a cross, not made of gold. 

A perspective revealed to us through today’s Gospel from Matthew.  A perspective which reveals how Christ is with us today.  A perspective that shows us how Christ the King comes to us today - not through all kinds of royal pageantry, but through those whom Jesus calls the least of these who are members of my family. The hungry.  The thirsty. The stranger. The naked.  The sick.  The imprisoned.

This parable, sometimes called the judgment of the nations, or perhaps more simply, the parable of the sheep at the goats, is found at the end of the 25^th chapter of Matthew, the chapter we’ve been going through these past few weeks where Jesus has told a series of parables about being prepared for the day when he would return.  In the very next chapter, chapter 26, Jesus had the last supper with the disciples.  He was betrayed and arrested. He was put on trial before the high priest, then in the 27^th chapter, brought before Pilate, and taken to the cross.

Today’s parable of the judgment of the nations, using the sheep and the goats as metaphors for the righteous and unrighteous, was the last parable he told before those events we remember during Holy Week.

There are probably several different perspectives from which we can look at this parable of the sheep and the goats, but I’m going to talk about three. 

One possible perspective would be to look at this parable from what I’ll call the “legal perspective” the perspective that Jesus is offering us a contract for our salvation, with a list of conditions. What kind of list?  Well, because the Christmas shopping season has begun, pardon me for bringing up Santa, but a list of things we can do to be put on the nice list, the sheep list - and not the naughty list, the goat list. Let’s see – feed a hungry person? Check.  Give a drink to a thirsty person? Check. Give clothing to a naked person? Check.  Welcome the stranger? Check. Took care of someone who is sick? Check.  Visit someone in prison? Check.  Okay Jesus, I’ve done all of those things – now fulfill your end of the deal and tell me I’m a sheep.   

Another possible perspective is what I’ll call the “save the world” perspective. What I mean by that is that from this perspective, we think that Jesus is telling us how to go out there and make his kingdom a reality here on earth in our time, and we do that by doing all kinds of great and noble and just things for other people. 

Things like feeding the hungry, giving a drink to the thirsty, etc. – I won’t mention the whole list again.  Jesus told us about the kingdom of heaven, so let’s get going on bringing it to earth by doing all these things - time’s a wasting.

The problem with those perspectives is that they are from the vantage point of what we are doing.  We need to feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, and take care of the sick to fulfill our end of the legal bargain, or we need to do these things to save the world and make the kingdom of heaven a reality here on earth by doing them.

I’m going to propose to you a different perspective – what I am going to call a sacramental perspective.  As Episcopalians/Lutherans, along with other Christian traditions which believe that God’s grace comes to us through the sacraments like baptism or communion, believe that ordinary things or objects can bring the holy to us.  They can bring Christ himself to us.  The water of baptism bring Christ to us and unite us with him in his death and resurrection.  The bread and wine bring Christ to us as they carry his body and blood for forgiveness of sin and nourishment of our souls.

In other words, the sacramental perspective reveals to us that the material world – what we can see, taste, touch, is not all there is that is material to us for our salvation – our unity with God.  Through this parable, Jesus is reminding us that each encounter with the people that we meet has the potential to be an encounter with himself.  What may seem like an ordinary event, can be a Christ event.

The week before last, I stayed several days at New Melleray Abbey, the monastery over Dubuque that I go to periodically. The monks there follow the ancient Rule of St. Benedict as the guide for their lives, and the Rule of St. Benedict recognizes how Christ comes to us through others.  One part of the Rule specifically quotes Matthew 25, when it states that “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: ‘I was a stranger, and you welcomed me”. 

In other words, an act of hospitality, welcoming a stranger, is a sacramental event – an encounter with Jesus. A means by which Jesus Christ - the King of this very different kind of kingdom - comes to us.

A sacramental perspective reminds us that Christ’s presence in the world is not merely a past event, or a future event on the day when Christ returns.  Christ’s presence is a current event.  The face of Christ is reflected to us through the face of the hungry, the thirsty, the sick, the stranger, the imprisoned.  We are all pilgrims on the journey, and Christ visits us through the journey of others. (Adapted from a writing by Fr. Prior Joel Macul on the 20^th anniversary of Christ the King Priory. www.christthekingpriory.com).
A sacramental perspective affects our mindset when we go about doing the things that Jesus spoke of, like feeding the hungry.  These aren’t just acts of charity from someone who has something, to someone who does not have something. We aren’t the kings of our little kingdoms being benevolent and merciful to those whom we provide assistance.

We are receiving far more than what we are giving because the presence of Christ the King himself is with them, whether we recognize it or not.   One of the beautiful things about this parable is how the people who were sheep and not goats did all of these things without even realizing it was the Son of Man who was with the hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, stranger, and imprisoned.

So, a sacramental perspective is not required to be a sheep and not a goat, but it does open our eyes to a new way of looking at why we do the acts of love that we do as Christians. It is a perspective that comes when, as Ephesians so beautifully puts it, the eyes of your heart are enlightened. 

The eyes of your heart.  Not the eyes in your head.  The eyes in the core of your being – the core where the Holy Spirit dwells in you because of the sacrament of baptism, the core which is nourished and fed because of the sacrament of communion.

A sacramental perspective opens the eyes of our heart to see God’s grace incarnate in water, in bread and wine.  It allows us to see the presence of Christ in the least of these. It allows us to see that the presence of the resurrected and living Christ is not merely a thing of the past or future, but a living presence right here, right now, with us.  Immanuel.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

---

Why I'm Sticking with the Revised Common Lectionary, Part 2

Unbeknownst to me at the time, on the same day that I posted my first article about the Revised Common Lectionary (http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2016/05/why-im-sticking-with-revised-common.html), a group called "Clergy Stuff" posted a video on Facebook about the Narrative Lectionary.  The video features Professor Rolf Jacobson of Luther Seminary, who has been one of the primary developers and proponents of the Narrative Lectionary. The video can be seen here (http://clergystuff.com/news/2016/5/2/what-is-the-narrative-lectionary-anyway), and it features two comments on why the Narrative Lectionary is allegedly superior to the Revised Common Lectionary which I want to address.  I've really enjoyed some of Professor Jacobson's work in the past, particularly "Crazy Book: A Not-So-Stuffy Dictionary of Biblical Terms", as well as his other books published by Augsburg Fortress.  However, I have a profound disagreement with his assessment of the RCL, and his belief that his Narrative Lectionary rectifies the alleged problems with it.

The first comment made by Professor Jacobson is as follows:

"We actually think that we do a better job of aligning the Biblical story with the major festivals of the Church year. In the Revised Common Lectionary, you get the adult John the Baptist in Advent saying 'Jesus is coming', but that's not the Christmas story - its not the adult John the Baptist saying the adult Jesus is coming. So, what we have is the prophetic texts - the prophets longing with hope for the fulfillment of God's kingdom and the coming of the Holy One, and then the Holy One is born at Christmas, and we tell, then, the Biblical story in order...."

Is Advent merely a season where we prepare for the birth of the baby Jesus at Christmas?  If so, his claim might have merit.  However, Advent is not just about recalling the story of the baby Jesus coming into the world.  If it were, I'm not sure why we would even have a separate Advent season - we would just have one six week Christmas season. Instead, Advent is also a season where we prepare for the return of Christ at the eschaton (a word which essentially means, to borrow a phrase from the rock group REM: 'the end of the world as we know it').  Therefore, contrary to Professor Jacobson's opinion, the readings where "the adult John Baptist is saying the adult Jesus is coming" make sense given the historical purpose and meaning behind the season of Advent:

"The eschataological orientation that is found in some of these early sources continues to be a significant element in the proclamation of the season of Advent. Indeed, the very name Adventus, 'coming,' 'approach,' suggests not only the coming of God into the world in Jesus but the approaching return of the risen Lord in all his heavenly splendor.  Indeed, the Advent season and its hope should not be regarded purely or even primarily in terms of Christmas.  It should not even be seen as an introduction to the Incarnation but rather as the completion of the work of redemption.

****

The season gives voice to the impatience God's people feel at least from time to time but which they may be hesitant to express to God.  The purpose of Advent is to rouse once again in the people of the Church the anticipation of the End and of the great Day of the Lord, and to bid them to be prepared for it.

****

[T]he Church gives voice not only to the expectant joy of a bride or of a mother at the impending birth of her child. Mother Church expresses her deep longing for the coming of Christ in glory at the end of the ages. It is not a fearful dread that the Church wishes to instill in her members when through the psalms and hymns and readings and prayers she calls on us to think about the Parousia, the final coming, but rather she points us to the goal of our efforts to keep awake and to watch: unending union with Jesus Christ. All our work and study and prayer and living has one purpose and meaning: to bring us and all humanity into the kingdom of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  So the central prayer of Advent is the one word, the concluding prayer of the Bible, Maranatha, Come, Lord Jesus."

(From pp. 27-29 of "Journey Into the Heart of God: Living the Liturgical Year" by Philip Pfatteicher, a noted Lutheran liturgical theologian - these are just brief snippets of a extensive discussion about the Advent season found in the book, including a discussion about the RCL readings).

Therefore, instead of enhancing the Church's understanding of the liturgical year, the Narrative Lectionary diminishes it.

The second comment from the video that I want to address is this remark from Professor Jacobson: "The problem with the Revised Common Lectionary is that somebody in 1973 or 1972 decided what Scriptures you need in your church in 2016, 2018, 2020..."

"Somebody in 1973 or 1972"?  The Revised Common Lectionary is not based on the fruits of one person's work in the early 1970s.  As noted in my earlier article, the roots of the RCL are based on the three year lectionary developed in the Roman Catholic Church during the years following Vatican II.  Following the conclusion of Vatican II, Biblical scholars came together to work on the three year lectionary, which resulted in the publication of Ordo Lectionum Missae in 1969. After over a decade of work by scholars from numerous Christian traditions, the Common Lectionary was published in 1983.  Finally, after a trial period of the Common Lectionary, and revisions made by even more scholars, the Revised Common Lectionary was published in 1992.  (For more information, go to this website: http://www.commontexts.org/).

So, the RCL is the fruit of the labor of multiple scholars from multiple Christian traditions over the course of several decades.  It is not a perfect lectionary.  But, it is a truly "catholic" (universal, not just Roman) lectionary.  This was a sentiment expressed by ELCA Bishop Guy Erwin, who shared my earlier post on his Facebook page, and offered these words:

"This is lovely. Reading and reflecting on the RCL texts each week is for me a powerful witness to our unity as Christians. Not only the mainline churches but also the global Roman Catholic Church uses essentially the same Sunday texts, which means most of the world's Christians are focusing their hearts on the same scriptural truths each week.

No lectionary can ever be a substitute for the broader study of scripture--there simply aren't enough Sundays for that. What we hear ...on Sunday is an invitation to go deeper--to use more scripture to learn more--not an end point.

And though I believe every part of scripture is useful, I think the lectionary helps draw us away from the sense that the Bible was somehow put together and delivered to us in canonical order (and in English) by God, in order to tell us a smooth, consistent and complete story of everything God wants us to know. It is instead a wild and varied witness, and each part deserves to be considered on its own without being forced into a frame. Even the dissonances in the RCL help us be modest in the face of this sometimes mystifying collection of holy writings, and point us always back to Christ as the only unifier."

 

Why I'm Sticking With the Revised Common Lectionary

Now and again, I reconnect with colleagues and look at the latest trends in the church via the sometimes controversial ELCA Clergy group on Facebook.  One subject that comes up periodically within that group is the lectionary - specifically, the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL), which is the series of readings used by churches during Sunday worship services.  The RCL has been an ecumenical success, as it is used widely by Lutherans, Episcopalians, Methodists, Presbyterians, and churches from other denominations.  Even more importantly, from my perspective, it is largely in sync with the Catholic lectionary - therefore, even though we are not yet at the point where the Eucharist is shared, we at least share in the same readings from Sacred Scripture most weeks.

As I noted in my last post (back in March, sorry- I'll try to do better!), I am now 1/2 time at an Episcopal congregation, in addition to my 1/2 time call at a Lutheran church.  Since the Episcopal Church values a common liturgy (hence, the Book of Common Prayer), it is a given that congregations use the RCL. 

Based on what I read on the ELCA Clergy Facebook page, however, it appears that in the ELCA we are far from unity in our Scripture readings at worship.  Some pastors feel free to change the readings at will, or develop their own sermon series, based on their own choice of readings.   As a Lutheran with Benedictine tendencies, you can probably guess that I'm not a big fan of that practice.  

Furthermore, a whole new lectionary has been developed by Luther Seminary, the Narrative Lectionary, and a sizable contingent of congregations appear to be using it based on what I am reading on the Facebook page.  Why was a new lectionary developed when we already have one that has been widely used in the ELCA and in our ecumenical partner churches? This is the reason given:

"Though the Revised Common Lectionary has united the church in its reading of scripture and has given much-needed structure, it doesn’t present scripture -- especially the Old Testament -- in a way that helps people to become fluent in the first language of faith. The Narrative Lectionary is an attempt to take nine months to do just that."  

www.workingpreacher.org/narrative_faqs.aspx

When I read this statement, it made me wonder  - what is the primary purpose of Scripture reading during worship?  Are Scripture readings and sermons supposed to be like Bible studies?

No.  The purpose of Scripture reading during worship is to proclaim the mystery of the faith and the presence of Christ in our midst.  

Through the magic of Google, I found an article called "Explaining the lectionary for readers", which contains a beautiful explanation of how and why the Catholic (and therefore, RCL) lectionary readings are put together.  Although it is from a Catholic website, this language strikes me as being very much Lutheran as well, with its primary focus being on the proclamation of Christ: 

 "[W]e can think of the readings at the Eucharist as a series of concentric circles:

• at the centre is the gospel which is a recollection and celebration of the mystery of Jesus, the Anointed One;
• this recollection is given added dimensions by readings from the Old Testament: the Law (such as Genesis or Exodus), the prophets (such as Amos or Joel), the Psalms, and the Writings (such as the Book of Wisdom or the Books of the Maccabees);
• then there are the readings of the great early Christian teachers’ letters to churches, such as those of Paul.

The purpose of the readings is that, in the words of the General Instruction on the Lectionary, in accordance with ancient practice there should be a ‘re-establishing [of] the use of Scripture in every celebration of the liturgy’ and that this should be seen as ‘the unfolding mystery of Christ’ being ‘recalled during the course of the liturgical year’ 

*****

If the readings at the Eucharist are there to help unfold the mystery of Jesus Christ, then several important consequences flow from this:

• We are not reading the Scriptures simply to get a knowledge of the Bible.
• We are not reading these passages because many Christians consider reading the Bible a valuable activity in itself.
• This action is not part of a Bible Study, nor should it resemble the classroom atmosphere of a study group.
•The focus of all our reading is not an abstract understanding of the scriptural text – such as would be carried out by a biblical exegete in a theology course – but to see what each portion of text (whether from the gospel, the Old Testament, the psalm, or the epistle) reveals to us about the Paschal Mystery.
• Our reading is not book-focused; it is not text-focused; it is focused on Jesus as the Christ.
• The gospel is the primary focus on the mystery of the Christ in each celebration; the Old Testament and Psalm relate to it as background, example, context, or elaboration; the epistle is a separate attempt to focus on the mystery of the Christ through the help of early Christian teachers.
• The readings are to help us encounter the person of Jesus Christ in whose presence and name we have gathered.

‘The word of God unceasingly calls to mind and extends the plan of salvation, which achieves its fullest expression in the liturgy. The liturgical celebration becomes therefore the continuing, complete, and effective presentation of God’s word’." 

http://www.catholicireland.net/explaining-the-lectionary-for-readers/

During worship, Christ is truly present in our midst.  Therefore, don't we want our readings to be aimed at proclaiming that mystery in union with the Body of Christ around the world? 

A Timeless Liturgy

Today, I'm going to take a break from my normal Monday musings on the sayings of ancient and modern Desert Fathers and Mothers, and write about an experience from yesterday that gave me joy. 


Over the July 4th weekend, we stayed at a hotel in Omaha, Nebraska, and just a few blocks away was Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, sitting among the downtown skyscrapers.

I noticed they offer a Rite I Eucharist on Sunday mornings at 8:30 a.m., so I decided to attend that service (one of the rare occasions when I am able to worship somewhere else on a Sunday morning).  For those of you who aren't familiar with Episcopal-ese, Rite I is the worship setting in the current Book of Common Prayer which maintains the "ye olde English" liturgy, complete with language such as this post-Communion prayer:

"Almighty and everliving God, we most heartily thank thee for that though dost feed us in these holy mysteries, with the spiritual food of the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son our Savior Jesus Christ; and dost assure us thereby of thy favor and goodness towards us; and that we are very members incorporate in the mystical body of thy Son, the blessed company of all faithful people; and are also heirs, through hope, of thy everlasting kingdom.  And we humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father; so to assist us with thy grace, that we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honor and glory, world without end. Amen."

Use of that language is decidedly counter-cultural in 2014 - most churches these days stay as far away as possible from the type of language found in a Rite I Eucharist.  But, there is something about that language which reminds us that worship is a gathering of ordinary humans to experience something extraordinary.  Worship is not intended to be a gathering to learn about self-help methods, or listen to music with a religious sheen, but about an encounter with the divine "other" revealed to us as the Trinity - the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

Since I would be attending a worship service at 8:30 a.m. on a holiday weekend, I was fearful that I would be the only one there to worship that morning.  Fortunately, I was wrong!  It was not a huge crowd, but there were several others of various ages (from young couples with small children on up) there that morning.

Why were they there at 8:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning during a holiday weekend?  Each worshiper would have their own unique reasons, of course.  But, regardless of their individual reasons, they came together as a community where there was a tangible presence of God, communicated to us through a timeless form of the liturgy, the hearing of the Word, and the reception of the Sacrament at the altar.   Those means of grace renew, strengthen, and nourish us, so that we can go out into the world with the following exhortation (spoken by the priest during each Rite I Eucharist service) in mind: 

"It is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto thee, O Lord, holy Father, almighty everlasting God."

Ascension Day

A year ago on Ascension Day, I wrote these words on this blog:

"One of the things I hope to do in coming years at my congregation is to have an Ascension Day service, as it us unfortunately one of the least remembered festival days on the church calendar.  An important part of establishing a Benedictine ethos in a parish would be to observe all major festival days, regardless of what day of the week they fall on.

These words from St. Augustine emphasize the continuing importance of the Ascension event in our lives as Christians: 'Today our Lord Jesus Christ ascended into heaven; let our hearts ascend with him. Listen to the words of the Apostle: If you have risen with Christ, set your hearts on the things that are above where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God; seek the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For just as he remained with us even after his ascension, so we too are already in heaven with him, even though what is promised us has not yet been fulfilled in our bodies.'"

From http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2013/05/ascension-day.html

Well, a year later, we had an Ascension Day service in our newly renovated chapel this morning, and we will have another one tonight at 7:00 p.m.  Thanks be to God!

A Mystical Renewal

One year ago this month, I started this blog, not knowing if anyone would read it.  While the number of people reading this blog isn't huge, I think there has been enough traffic to this site, and corresponding positive feedback, to verify something that I have suspected for awhile now: There is a desire among Lutherans, and members of similar traditions which arose at the time of the Reformation, to explore spiritual practices that have been minimized in our churches, even though they are a good and helpful part of our Catholic heritage.

In short, I will describe that desire as a hunger for mysticism.

Mysticism has become a dirty word in certain Protestant and Lutheran circles because there are uses of the word which are contrary to our beliefs, including some uses which are contrary to Christianity altogether. 

Mysticism can mean spiritual beliefs which blur the lines between the Creator and the created, and spiritual practices which lead to a belief that the best place to find God is by looking into yourself.  I'm not talking about that kind of mysticism.

Mysticism can also lead to a mindset which focuses on what we do for God, instead of what God has done for us.  I'm not talking about that kind of mysticism, either.

When I am talking about mysticism, I simply mean an awareness, through faith, of God's presence in our lives.  I believe that kind of mysticism is fully compatible with Christianity, as well as Lutheranism.  In fact, I would say that not only is that kind of mysticism compatible with our faith - it is necessary for our faith to be sustained.

The beliefs and practices I have written about on this blog have been related to that form of mysticism.  For example, the Jesus Prayer, lectio divina, and the daily rhythm of prayers and readings (found in the Rule of St. Benedict, and included in the lectionaries and daily prayer services in our Lutheran worship books as well as the Book of Common Prayer) help us to give thanks to God our Father, focus our attention on Christ and him crucified, and enhance our awareness of the presence of the Holy Spirit in and around us.

After all, Martin Luther himself had a profound mystical experience (commonly referred to as the "tower experience") after engaging in a period of meditation on Scripture, akin to lectio divina: 


“The words ‘righteous’ and ‘righteousness of God’ struck my conscience like lightning. When I heard them I was exceedingly terrified. If God is righteous [I thought], he must punish. But when by God’s grace I pondered, in the tower and heated room of this building, over the words, ‘He who through faith is righteous shall live’ [Rom. 1:17] and ‘the righteousness of God’ [Rom. 3:21], I soon came to the conclusion that if we, as righteous men, ought to live from faith and if the righteousness of God contribute to the salvation of all who believe, then salvation won’t be our merit but God’s mercy. My spirit was thereby cheered. For it’s by the righteousness of God that we’re justified and saved through Christ. These words [which had before terrified me] now became more pleasing to me. The Holy Spirit unveiled the Scriptures for me in this tower.”

(From Luther's Works Volume 54: Table Talk).

(The tower of the Augustinian monastery in Wittenberg where Luther was a monk).

So, thank you for accompanying me on my journey into blogging this past year.  With God's grace and help, I look forward to further exploration of the kind of Christian spiritual practices and beliefs which might help our awareness of God's presence in our lives. 

A Reflection on Tragedy and the Liturgy

As I reflected on the one year anniversary of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, I found these words that I posted to my congregation's Facebook page one year ago:  

"Many times I have found that when words fail me, the liturgy of the Church helps me to pray. The liturgy of Morning Prayer (Matins) gives us words to pray when we are at a loss for words following the events of yesterday:

"In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace." (The Song of Zechariah, also known as the Benedictus, from "For All the Saints - A Prayer Book For and By the Church")."

One year later, we still dwell in darkness and the shadow of death. When our faith is shaken by events such as the shooting in Newtown, and when our minds have difficulty grasping how to deal with such a tragedy, sometimes it is all we can do to cling to the words of the liturgy.  In the midst of the shadows and the darkness, they remind us of hope - a hope that one day, the dawn from on high will guide our feet into the way of peace.

All Saints Day

Today, of course, is All Saints Day.  My favorite hymn about the saints is "Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones" and my congregation will be singing it on Sunday.  The hymn contains verses praising the angels, Mary, and the saints:

Ye watchers and ye holy ones,
Bright seraphs, cherubim and thrones,
Raise the glad strain, Alleluia!
Cry out, dominions, princedoms, powers,
Virtues, archangels, angels’ choirs:

(Refrain)

Alleluia! Alleluia!
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Alleluia!

O higher than the cherubim,
More glorious than the seraphim,
Lead their praises, Alleluia!
Thou bearer of th’eternal Word,
Most gracious, magnify the Lord.

(Refrain)

Respond, ye souls in endless rest,
Ye patriarchs and prophets blest,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Ye holy twelve, ye martyrs strong,
All saints triumphant, raise the song.

(Refrain)

O friends, in gladness let us sing,
Supernal anthems echoing,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
To God the Father, God the Son,
And God the Spirit, Three in One.

(Refrain)

Here is a beautiful version of the hymn, sung by the choir of St. Anne's Cathedral (Anglican) in Belfast:

Affirmation of Baptism and Turning to the East

Today, my son Jonathan affirmed his baptism through the rite traditionally known as confirmation.

The Lutheran rite contains the following questions: 

Do you renounce the devil and all the forces that defy God?
Do you renounce the powers of this world that rebel against God?
Do you renounce the ways of sin that draw you from God?

The answer my son gave to each one of those questions was "I renounce them".

In doing so, he also turned to the east.  Perhaps he did not do so literally from the perspective of geography, but in the minds of the Early Church Fathers, he turned toward the east after he renounced the devil, the powers of this world, and the ways of sin.  The following passage written by Gabriel Bunge, O.S.B., connects the baptismal rite with the ancient practice of facing the east when praying:

"In the sacrament (of baptism), what was bestowed upon humanity as a whole in salvation history is bestowed upon me in an utterly personal way.

(Quoting Cyril of Jerusalem) 'When, therefore, you renounce Satan, utterly breaking all covenant with him, that ancient league with hell, there is opened to you the Paradise of God, which he planted toward the east, whence for his transgression our first father was exiled; and symbolic of this was your turning from the west toward the east, the place of light.'

The relation between the 'east' and Christ is so close in the mind of the Fathers that Ambrose in the same context, with regard to the newly baptized turning from the west toward the east, can simply say: 'Whoever renounces the devil turns toward Christ and looks at him directly.'

Whenever a Christian places himself in the presence of his Lord to pray, therefore - even if this is not always said explicitly or consciously adverted to - he renews with this turn toward the east that act of turning away from the evil one and of professing the triune God, which he performed once and for all in baptism."

(From the book, "Earthen Vessels: The Practice of Personal Prayer According to the Patristic Tradition" pp. 66-67). 

Is the Rule of St. Benedict Supported by the Bible?

A common question posed by Protestants about any Christian belief or practice is: "But where is that found in the Bible?"  This post is not about the merits (or lack thereof) of sola scriptura (scripture alone); instead, it will set forth a few ways in which the core of the Benedictine way is supported by the Bible.

One verse sums it up:  "They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers." (Acts 2:42).

How does that verse relate to the essence of the Rule of St. Benedict?  Acts 2:42 can be broken down into three parts: (1)  "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship" - this is found in various Benedictine devotional practices, such as lectio divina ("divine reading").  (2) "The breaking of bread" - the Rule of St. Benedict emphasizes the importance of the Eucharist.  (3)  "The prayers" - this brief mention needs further explanation, but there is a direct parallel between the pattern of daily prayer used by the first Christians, and the later daily office of prayers set forth in the Rule of St. Benedict.

This note in the Orthodox Study Bible helps explain the reference to "prayers" in Acts 2:42:  "Prayers is literally 'the prayers' in Greek, referring to specific liturgical prayers.  The Jews had practiced liturgical prayer for centuries, the preeminent prayers being the Psalms.  Because the Psalms point so clearly to Christ, Christians immediately incorporated them into (New Testament) worship."

With that background in mind, other Biblical references to the daily liturgical prayers, which were  incorporated into the Rule of St. Benedict, become obvious:

"One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer, at three o’clock in the afternoon."  (Acts 3:1).  The apostles were praying the mid-afternoon prayers, later referred to by Benedictines as the office of "None".

"In Caesarea there was a man named Cornelius, a centurion of the Italian Cohort, as it was called. He was a devout man who feared God with all his household; he gave alms generously to the people and prayed constantly to God. One afternoon at about three o’clock he had a vision in which he clearly saw an angel of God coming in and saying to him, ‘Cornelius.’ He stared at him in terror and said, ‘What is it, Lord?’ He answered, ‘Your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God.'"  (Acts 10: 1-4 - see also the reference at Acts 10:30). Here, Cornelius is praying the mid-afternoon prayers when he had the encounter with an angel.

"About noon the next day, as they were on their journey and approaching the city, Peter went up on the roof to pray."  (Acts 10:9).  Noontime prayer in the Rule of St. Benedict is referred to as "Sext".

"About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them." (Acts 16:25).  Here, they were praying the night office of "Vigils" - some monastic orders, such as the Carthusians, still pray at midnight.  While most Benedictines have adjusted the time frame, they still pray the night office of prayers.

And how far back does the tradition of praying seven times a day go?  At least as far back as the Psalms:   "Seven times a day I praise you for your righteous ordinances." (Psalm 119:164).

Sometimes, this daily prayer ritual, observed by the apostles and followed to this day by Benedictines and other orders, is referred to as the "sanctification of time" - the hours of the day are made holy by prayer.  For those of us who do not live in a cloister, and who have secular jobs, observing the seven daily prayer offices will not be feasible.  However, given the Biblical precedent revealing the importance of regular daily prayer at different times, it should be a goal of all Christians - not just monastics - to figure out a daily prayer regimen that works for them, and follow it.  


(Thanks to Matthew Dallman, author of the excellent book "The Benedictine Parish" - reviewed at http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-benedictine-parish.html - for highlighting the relevance of Acts 2:42 to the Benedictine way).

St. Michael and All Angels

This upcoming Sunday, September 29th, the Western Church celebrates the feast of St. Michael and All Angels.  Assuming they follow the lectionary (don't get me started on that subject), many ELCA pastors will probably use the regular lectionary texts of the day for their Scripture readings.  As for me, though, instead of observing the 19th Sunday after Pentecost, I'm going to take this opportunity for a break from the "long green season" (green is the liturgical color used during the season after Pentecost) and grab my white vestments out of the closet to celebrate St. Michael's Day (if I wanted to go old school, I could call it "Michaelmas").

I saw a comment on another online forum that we should stay away from observing St. Michael's Day because angels are allegedly part of a so-called "mythology" from a different time.   I find that reasoning suspect, given the large number of references to angels in the Bible (for just a few, see my earlier post here - http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2013/08/want-to-have-encounter-with-angel.html). Additionally, Luther strongly emphasized the role of the angels - both the good ones and the demonic ones (See Heiko Oberman's classic biography, "Luther: Man Between God and the Devil" http://books.google.ca/books?id=ROjEtAGFm1kC&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false). Luther's emphasis on the work of the angels can be found in the Small Catechism's Morning and Evening Prayers:

 (LUTHER'S MORNING PRAYER)

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

I thank you, my heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ, Your dear Son, that You have kept me this night from all harm and danger; and I pray that You would keep me this day also from sin and every evil, that all my doings and life may please You.  For into Your hands I commend myself, my body and soul, and all things.  Let Your holy angel be with me, that the evil foe may have no power over me.  Amen.

(LUTHER'S EVENING PRAYER)

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

I thank you, my heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ, Your dear Son, that You have graciously kept me this day; and I pray that You would forgive me all my sins where I have done wrong, and graciously keep me this night.  For into Your hands, I commend myself, my body and soul, and all things.  Let Your holy angel be with me, that the evil foe may have no power over me.  Amen.

Therefore, regardless of whether or not your congregation celebrates St. Michael's Day, and regardless of whether angels play a role in your personal piety, don't ignore them - as St. Clement wrote in a letter at the end of the first century, the whole multitude of angels stand ready to minister to God's will. (Clement's First Epistle to the Corinthians, Chapter 34).

On Earth as it is in Heaven

I love music. 

I'm not really much of a musician, though.  I was in band and choir in the small town high school that I attended, and did relatively well there, but there wasn't much competition.  That's what my kids tell me, anyway, when I try to brag about being the first chair trumpet player in the Western Iowa Conference honor band during my senior year.  I no longer play an instrument, and while my voice has improved due to the constant singing I do as a pastor, I lack the training to excel at vocal music. 

However, despite my lack of musicianship, I nevertheless think that I know quite a bit about music because I've listened to so much of it over my lifetime.  I haven't made the transition to listening to music via download, but I have boxes full of CDs and vinyl albums that I have collected over the years.  On top of that, I don't know how many music groups I have seen perform over the years, but it has to be well into the hundreds - ranging from watching bar bands all the way up to seeing groups like the Rolling Stones and Pink Floyd play in stadiums to crowds in excess of 50,000 people.  Country, folk, heavy metal, hard rock, classic rock, punk, rap, pop, orchestra, jazz, blues - I've seen it all. 

Has my history listening to live music influenced the way I preside over worship, though? Not really.  Just because I've seen Mick Jagger twice in concert doesn't mean I want to move like him (apologies to Maroon 5). 

Instead, what has influenced my worship style is the belief that what we do during worship should reflect how the angels and saints worship God.  How do we know the way they worship God? We see through the mirror dimly, but Isaiah 6, among other passages from the Bible, gives us a clue:

"In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. ²Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. ³And one called to another and said: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.’"

We can't fly around like the seraphs, but we can sing their song.  Their words form the basis of the Sanctus - the "Holy, Holy. Holy" song that is sung by the congregation during the Eucharistic liturgy.  When we sing those words, regardless of whatever style of music is used to accompany the words, we mirror the heavenly liturgy.  Our voices our joined with the angels in their eternal song of praise.

I am partial to classical forms of the liturgy.   When I hear recordings of great Russian choirs singing the Sanctus, it sounds like I have a front row seat to a concert by the choirs of angels and archangels.

I can accept the fact that this kind of music might not appeal to everyone the appeals to me.  Regardless of the style of music used to perform the song, though, the words matter.  Because of Christ, we participate in God's divine nature (2 Peter 1:4), so why wouldn't we want to participate in those aspects of the heavenly liturgy that have been revealed to us through the visions recorded in Isaiah and elsewhere in the Bible? 

When we gather together for worship, we enter into sacred time and space.  The veil between heaven and earth is lifted, and our voices can join those of the saints of all ages in the praise of God.  Therefore, the words and music of worship should be used in a way that allows us to be in harmony with the angels and saints, instead of merely being a distant echo.  

How Not to Pray to Santa Claus

The members of my congregation have heard me preach about how our prayers sometimes seem to be directed to the "great Santa Claus in the sky" - a God who seems to exist to give us stuff when we ask for it.  When I make that comment in a sermon, it is largely directed at myself, as I have prayed that way many times.  Of course, Jesus told the disciples that we can ask God for what we need ("give us this day our daily bread"), but that does not mean we should tell God to give us whatever we want.

How do we avoid falling into the trap of praying to the "great Santa Claus in the sky"?  One way is to remember that a few simple words will do the job.  Prayers need not be lengthy petitions or sermons to God. A simple cry to the Lord for mercy will oftentimes suffice, as it seeks union with the very heart of God:

"[T]he prayer for mercy is not a prayer for certain gifts of grace from God, nor a prayer for forgiveness, for strength, for help in the changing fortunes of life, nor a prayer for any particular gift from God, but a cry to God himself, a prayer to his heart, implying: the man who is enfolded in the heart of God needs nothing more.... It is an additional advantage and benefit to pray for everything needful, but praying for contact with the  heart of God includes all kinds of prayer: confession of sin, thanksgiving, intercession, praise, petition."  (From the book "The Jesus Prayer" by Per-Olof Sjogren).

Also, when we simply pray for mercy, our prayers are joined with the saints of various eras.  Each one of the verses of Psalm 136 includes the phrase "for his mercy endures forever." In Luke 18:13, Jesus extolled the virtue of the prayer of the tax collector, which was simply "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."  The tax collector's prayer is echoed in the ancient "Jesus Prayer" which has been used for centuries in the Eastern Church: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner."  The liturgies of both the Eastern and Western Churches include the prayer "Kyrie Eleison" - "Lord, have mercy."

So, the next time we get the urge to make our prayers look like a laundry list directed toward God, remember that the simple request for mercy encompasses a request for what we really need - union with God.

Want to Have an Encounter with an Angel?

Angels have been in the news again this week because of the mystery surrounding the appearance of an unknown priest at the scene of a serious car accident in Missouri.  If you haven't read about it yet, here's an example of one of the many news stories about the event:

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/08/07/angel-crash-missouri/2630227/

I'm not going to speculate regarding the nature of this event, although it is intriguing.  The point of this article is that we don't have to get into a traumatic situation, like a car crash, to have an encounter with the angels. 

Chapter 19 of the Rule of St. Benedict notes that when we join in the daily prayer of the Church, our voices are in harmony with the voices of the angels:

"We believe that God is everywhere, and the Lord sees both good and evil in all places. Without doubt, we believe this is so especially when assisting in the Divine Office. Remember the prophet: 'Serve the Lord in fear' (Ps. 2:10), and 'Sing His praises with understanding' (Ps. 47:7) and also 'In the sight of angels I will sing praise to You' (Ps. 138:1).  Let us consider our place in sight of God and of his angels.  Let us rise in chanting that our hearts and voices harmonize."

The same is true with the Eucharist.  At the conclusion of the preface, the celebrant chants: "With all the choirs of angels, with the church on earth and the hosts of heaven, we praise your name and join their unending hymn..." This leads into the singing of the Sanctus ("Holy, Holy, Holy Lord, God of power and might..."), which is the song sung by the seraphim in the presence of the Lord (Isaiah 6:1-3).

Skepticism about angels abounds in modern society, no doubt caused in part by the image that many people have of angels, which has been shaped by art and movies.  ("Its a Wonderful Life" and "Angels in the Outfield" are two examples of cute, but misleading, depictions of angels).  Angels play a crucial role in the Biblical story, though, as they serve as messengers of warning (Genesis 19 - the story of Sodom and Gomorrah) and hope (Luke 1:26-38 - the appearance of the angel to Mary).

In the daily life of a Christian, the presence of angels around us should give us comfort, for as noted by Russian Orthodox theologian Sergius Bulgakov, they are "standing before the throne of God, live a common life with us, and are united by the bonds of love." (from "Jacob's Ladder: On Angels" p. 164).

(The icon at the beginning of this article is found at Bethel Lutheran Church, University City, Missouri - you can read about it here: http://www.bethel-ucity.org/asp/art.asp).     

UPDATE 8/13/13: The mystery priest has been identified.  http://www.cnn.com/2013/08/13/us/missouri-mystery-priest/index.html

Meeting the Saints at the Altar

As a pastor, sometimes it is a struggle to come up with the right words to say to someone who has suffered a loss in their lives, particularly the death of a loved one. In seminary and Clinical Pastoral Education ("CPE") we are trained (and rightfully so) to avoid resorting to trite sayings that do more harm than good ("God must have needed another angel in heaven" is just plain wrong for multiple reasons).   So, I know what not to say, but it is still difficult to know what I should say. 

A few months ago, I visited an elderly woman from my congregation whose husband died several years ago.  She shared with me that she was still having great difficulty dealing with losing him and living alone. So, the dilemma of what to say to someone in her situation arose once again. 

The purpose of my visit was to bring her communion, so I remembered something I had read once about how the Eucharist brings us together with the saints who have gone before us, so I mentioned to her that when she received communion that day, she would be joined with him. 

I didn't think much of the conversation afterwards, other than hoping that I didn't say the wrong thing.  Recently, when I visited her again to bring her communion, one of the first things she said was how she had appreciated those words and had thought about them since that first visit. 

So, that prompted me to look up where I had read about meeting the saints at the altar during communion, and I found what I was looking for in a book that is little known outside of "Evangelical Catholic" Lutherans (I still have mixed feelings about that label - http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2013/05/evangelical-catholic-lutheranism.html) called "The Presence - an Approach to Holy Communion." Recently reprinted by the American Lutheran Publicity Bureau, the book is a gorgeous reflection on the Eucharist by a Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod pastor named Berthold Von Schenk, who was at the vanguard of the 20th century liturgical movement, as expressed within American Lutheranism.

This was the specific passage from the book that I was thinking of when I attempted to comfort her that day:

"We cannot divide the body of Christ.  The Church militant and the Church triumphant form one Church.  Nothing can separate the members of the Church, neither life nor death, nor powers, nor principalities.  At the altar we have fellowship with our risen and ascended Lord. But there is also a fellowship with all the members of the Church.  At the altar we join hands not only with the great saints in heaven, but also with all our loved ones who have passed within the veil, our faithful departed.

****

 We must come to a sense of the continuing presence of our loves ones, and we can do this if we realize the presence of our living Lord.  As we seek and find our risen Lord we shall also find our dear departed.  They are with Him, and we find the reality of their continued life through Him. The saints are a part of the Church.  We worship with them. They worship the risen Christ face to face, while we worship the same risen Christ under the veil of bread and wine at the altar.  At the Communion we are linked with heaven, with the Communion of Saints, with our loved ones. Here at the altar, focused to a point, we find our communion with the dead; for the altar is the closest meeting place between us and our Lord.  That place must be the place of closest meeting with our dead who are in His keeping.  The altar is the trysting place where we meet our beloved Lord.  It must, therefore, also be the trysting place where me meet our loved ones, for they are with the Lord."

And then, in a passage that would put a serious dent in the business of flower shops everywhere if his advice was followed, Von Schenk wrote:

"How pathetic it is to see men and women going out to the cemetery, kneeling at the mound, placing little sprays of flowers and wiping their tears from their eyes, and knowing nothing else.  How hopeless they look.  Oh, that we could take them by the hand, away from the grave, out through the cemetery gate, in through the door of the church, and up the nave to the very altar itself, and there put them in touch, not with the dead body of their loved one, but with the living soul who is with Christ at the altar. 

****

The Blessed Sacrament links us not merely to Bethlehem and Calvary, but to the whole world beyond the grave as well, for at the altar the infinite is shrined in the finite; heaven stoops down to earth; and the seen and the unseen are met."

(pp. 118-121 of the 2010 ALPB printing of "The Presence"). For more information about the book, including how to order it, go here: http://www.alpb.org/presence.html

A Benedictine Response to the Generational and Worship Wars?

A recent blog article by Rachel Held Evans has been making the rounds on the internet regarding the relationship of the Millenial Generation to the Church - specifically, regarding why many Millenials are leaving the Church: http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/millennials-church-cnn 

Unlike Evans, who is on the borderline between Generation X and the Millenial Generation, I am firmly planted within Generation X.  I grew up with the original Star Wars trilogy, which was released when I was in elementary and middle school.  I was in college when the transition between 80's rock and pop to 90's grunge and alternative music occurred.  The gates of the world wide web were opened to the general public when I was in law school, and the development of advanced mobile phone technology occurred well into my adulthood.

I do not pretend to speak for Generation X or for any other generation, but as someone who will turn 43 next month, my vantage point (halfway between the Baby Boomers and the Millenials) has given me the opportunity to observe the different generations.  I am old enough to remember the time when it could be assumed that the vast majority of people around me had some sort of tangible connection to a congregation, but am young enough to be a part of a generation where large numbers of people my age are completely disconnected from the Church.

Some of the online debate regarding the Evans article has included a discussion of this sentence regarding Millenials who do not leave the Church, but trade Evangelical Christianity for something different:   "Many of us, myself included, are finding ourselves increasingly drawn to high church traditions – Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, the Episcopal Church, etc. – precisely because the ancient forms of liturgy seem so unpretentious, so unconcerned with being 'cool,' and we find that refreshingly authentic."

Personally, I hope her statement is true.  A few personal anecdotes come to mind which offer some support for her observation - for example, I know a 30 year old lawyer who specifically wanted a church that uses the traditional Lutheran liturgy.  However, it seems that a large number of the young adults who are in the Church continue to gravitate toward non-traditional worship services.

At times, it may seem like there is no way to reconcile the two disparate forms of worship preference.  People who want large evangelical-style worship services, dominated by a 30-45 minute sermons on topical subjects intermixed with lines of Scripture, surrounded by rock and pop music, probably wouldn't be comfortable attending a place like my small but loyal congregation, where the sermon is typically around 10 minutes long, surrounded by chant, hymns, intercessory prayers, and the Eucharist. 

The Benedictine way perhaps offers some common ground, though, which can be incorporated into the life of any type of Christian, regardless of what generation they come from or what style of worship they prefer:

- It does not demand a particular way of preaching, but it does demand daily reading and meditation on Scripture.

-  It does not demand a particular music style, but it does demand use of the songbook of the Bible, the Psalms.

-  It does not demand particular words to be used in prayer, but describes how prayers should be offered to God.

-  It does not tell us how to act within the political realm, but it does tell us to act with reverence toward God, with a spirit of humility, and to welcome and care for those around us who need help. 

The Benedictine way does not solve all of the problems that Millenials (and those of other generations) have with the Church, nor does it resolve the "worship wars."   Perhaps, though, the Rule of St. Benedict can be a common resource for Christians attempting to discern what has happened to the Church, and how the Holy Spirit might be moving us toward greater unity in the future. 

Ascension Day

One of the things I hope to do in coming years at my congregation is to have an Ascension Day service, as it us unfortunately one of the least remembered festival days on the church calendar.  An important part of establishing a Benedictine ethos in a parish would be to observe all major festival days, regardless of what day of the week they fall on. 

These words from St. Augustine emphasize the continuing importance of the Ascension event in our lives as Christians:

“Today our Lord Jesus Christ ascended into heaven; let our hearts ascend with him. Listen to the words of the Apostle: If you have risen with Christ, set your hearts on the things that are above where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God; seek the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For just as he remained with us even after his ascension, so we too are already in heaven with him, even though what is promised us has not yet been fulfilled in our bodies.”