Sermon for the 17th Sunday After Pentecost (the 22nd in Ordinary Time)

I’m not old enough to be able to vouch for this, but legend has it that back in the day before all the developments in technology and machinery farmers used to pick their crops by hand. I can’t even begin to imagine picking a field full of corn by hand or baling hay by hand. Those who were blessed (or cursed, depending on your perspective) to have such a laborious and cumbersome job were able to easily understand what Jesus was saying in our passage from Luke. For them, Jesus teaching that “The harvest is plentiful…” is the understatement of the millennium. Jesus would have been “Captain obvious.” They would have been so underwhelmed by these words that they’d miss the next biggest understatement: “but the workers are few.” Of course, there are too few workers. There’s always more to be done, isn’t there?

In the opening verses of Luke 10, we see Jesus send out a few workers, 70 to be precise. Echoing the salvation of humanity and the animals on Noah’s ark, he sent them out in groups of two. Scripture doesn’t tell us exactly where they went, but it’s not hard to figure out that 70 people doesn’t seem like a lot to make a big impact, especially if only two people were in each town. However, the sheer math doesn’t deter Jesus or his workers. They don’t look at the situation and sulk. They don’t even appear to get upset about the seemingly unfair odds. Perhaps they learned something when Jesus rebuked James and John for wanting to call down fire upon a Samaritan village who would not receive Jesus and his ministry towards the end of chapter 9.

If I were there, I would have been mad and frustrated. “Jesus, are you really going to send us out in twos to do your work? That doesn’t seem nearly effective enough.” In verses we did not read, Jesus instructed the disciples not to take a purse, sandals, bag or extra tunic, so it might actually have been a dangerous mission. Imagine being sent out on business with such instructions: take no luggage and no wallet. That sounds like a recipe for disaster doesn’t it? However, disaster is not reported when the 70 return; the opposite is the case. They came back not grumbling and defeated but amazed in a spirit of celebration.

The mission Jesus sent the 70 out on was not your usual business trip. He sent them out to do the ministry of the kingdom; to bring the kingdom to hurting people. He sent them out to heal the sick and cast out demons—to show that God’s kingdom is here and more powerful than Satan and evil, and that’s exactly what they did. They were able to do this not by their own will or authority but because of the authority Christ gave them. Christ gave them authority over the power of the enemy, so that even the demons must submit to Christ’s name and authority. Let that sink in for a minute. The dark powers of evil and Satan are subject to Christ’s authority. Do we really believe that? Do we live as if we have power over evil? We should, because this is the power of the resurrection. Indeed, it is a baptismal resurrection declaring that sin and death do not have the last word, and that they will not ultimately determine who humans are. God has already determined who we are in Jesus Christ, and we have that same authority through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Now, it’s certainly easy for us to get confused about the nature of any kind of authority, especially since we see it frequently abused. When I was in high school, I worked at a local steakhouse where I learned the value of a dollar and how unimportant I really was; it was a great experience. I recommend every teenager have a job like this at some point. But on with my point: I had been waiting tables for some time and of course was taught the ubiquitous phrase in the service industry, “The customer is always…right.” Now most people were very gracious about mistakes and politely asked for them to be corrected. Of course, there were the few who knew that they would always be deemed “right” no matter how inappropriately they acted, and they were willing to cause a scene, if necessary, in order to get what they wanted, usually a free meal. I was waiting on a couple and the man ordered a medium rare steak. Unfortunately, the cooks let it grill too long and it was closer to medium well. When he showed me this error, I quickly apologized and told him I would get him another steak ASAP. He thought that wasn’t good enough and since he paid money for his meal it should have been done right the first time. He wanted his meal for free. I told him I would go get the manager to work this out. After a brief discussion with my assistant manager that included the customer telling her that as the customer he is always right, she acquiesced and refunded his money for his meal. Following this episode my manager told me that this guy has been in before and if everything wasn’t perfect he always demanded a free meal. It was getting to the point where they were considering not serving him in the future. He thought it necessary to abuse the miniscule authority being a paying customer. In reality, being a paying customer isn’t much authority at all, despite what we want to think and how we act in restaurants and customer services lines. It’s easy to understand authority as something to lord over others, even in the most common place situations; to see it and use it to get others to bow to our will, desires, or even cash flow. However, this is not the authority Christ gives us. Christ’s authority is rooted in the power of the cross.

Luke teaches us this if we take a look at how our reading fits into his gospel’s overall picture. At this point in Luke’s gospel, Jesus has recently set his face to go to Jerusalem, which is Luke’s phrase to explain that Jesus has determined that he will follow the will of his Father regardless of consequence, to submit himself to the point of death. He will not give in to the temptations of Satan to use other so called “more effective” and “efficient” means to accomplish God’s purposes--like calling down the angels to save him from the cross, or by being a superman spectacle who throws himself off the temple only not to be harmed. Performing either one of these acts would have probably caught our attention and captivated us more than the cross. The people of Jesus’ day knew as much too: they knew a crucified Messiah is no Messiah worthy of following. Nonetheless, Jesus stayed focused on going to Jerusalem in order to suffer and die. The power and authority we receive, the same power that we possess over evil, is the power of a battered and beaten Jew hanging on a cross who was raised on the third day but still bears the wounds from his death. Does the way we approach evil and sin in the world appropriate our power over it through Christ’s power of suffering or do we seek to lord authority over others and show them who’s the boss? Jesus could have shown folks who was boss, but instead he chose to die and let his Father vindicate him.

This power that uses suffering to conquer evil is why Jesus says what he does to his jubilant disciples who just returned from healing people and casting out demons. He tells them “Do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you; but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” I don’t know about you, but if I cast out a demon I’d be pretty stoked about that. I mean, how more extraordinary a feat could one accomplish? But, Jesus tells them to rejoice in their salvation which is made possible by his impending death and resurrection. If the disciples get caught up in the effects of the power given to them, they will lose sight of the nature of the power itself and ultimately Jesus, who is the source of that power and authority.

The next few verses reveal a beautiful personal side of Jesus. Luke says that Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit about what his followers were able to accomplish. If you don’t think God gets excited and rejoices when his children do what’s right, think again. God himself shows thankfulness and joy over his children. Note here that this power and authority are for everyone and not a select few. Jesus says that God has revealed “these things” to infants and hid them from the wise and understanding insiders. In other words, there is no IQ or ordination requirement to gain God’s approval or to be faithful, as if ordination necessarily implies wisdom. Anyone can have this power to do what the seventy did, because God gives graciously. In fact, we often see God at work in and around those who we wouldn’t usually call “blessed” or “gifted.”

Corrie and I went to a Dayton Dragons game a few weeks ago and I’ll never forget this night—not because of the game, which the Dragons predictably lost—but because of one of the on field events in the middle of an early inning. Usually at baseball games there are crazy and fun activities between innings to entertain fans and kids; as some of you may have observed first hand, you can expect to see anything from boxing matches between a mascot and a 3^rd grader to big wheel races around the infield. I used to have big wheel…Anyhow, one of the mid inning events that night was a tribute to a young Dragons fan, Justin, who has shown incredible strength and courage throughout his 20 year battle with cerebral palsy. Justin graduated from high school and is as student at a nearby university where he sports a 4.0 GPA. What I remember most about this evening was watching Justin get pushed around the bases in his wheelchair, a homerun for life they called it, receiving high fives from players on both teams and an umpire who spontaneously ran in from the outfield to take part in the symbolic home run. As Justin made his way around the bases, all of Fifth Third Field was standing and applauding. Very rarely do we see random people join together and recognize something great without disagreement, criticism, or rhetorical posturing. But, this one evening showed me God’s grace is present and visible in a special way in the weak and marginalized. In the midst of this young man’s struggle and suffering, everyone could recognize the strength and grace necessary for Justin to live the way he does and they applauded it. Corrie and I were both moved to tears, not out of pity but because of God’s grace.

This is what Jesus was talking about when he said Son reveals the Father to those he chooses and he often chooses those we name “weak” or “needy.” This is why God reveals himself to “infants” through his gracious will, because following Jesus is for everyone no matter who you are; because we see the nature of God’s kingdom in the lives of the least of these. This is why James says that pure and undefiled religion is to visit the widow and the orphan in their affliction. This is why we must be doers of the Word and not merely listeners.

It’s easy to read Scripture and understand what one ought to be doing: to be serving and caring for the least of these. It’s even nice to hear about stories like Justin’s that I just shared. As powerful as Justin’s homerun for life is, it’s nice to hear about because it makes us feel good while simultaneously remaining at a distance from us; we don’t have to confront the tragedy or loss on a daily or regular basis. We don’t have to help him in and out of his chair at the beginning and end of each day. If you’re like me, you probably think it’s hard to find places to serve and minister to our present day widows and orphans. Most of us live in the so called good neighborhoods south of Dayton and think we don’t have contact with people suffering or who are afflicted. In other words, we don’t see the fields that are ripe for harvest.

The truth of the matter is that suffering and tragedy are all around us. It’s just easier for us more “well to do” folks to cover up with our resources and because we have images and façades to maintain. People don’t like to be vulnerable and they especially don’t want to appear vulnerable. We want to look like we have it all together. But, as we all know deep down, we don’t. You may have neighbors who are struggling in their marriage or live next to a single mother struggling to be a good mom and financially support her kids. You might be down the street from a child who is relentlessly bullied and who has little support at home. While these might not be as severe as other people’s plight in our area, like Justin, they still matter to God, because the gospel is about full restoration and reconciliation for everyone. Christ is calling us, his Church, to witness to him and the reconciliation he brings. He is sending us out into the harvest fields of people who desperately need the gospel, whether they know it or not. Unfortunately, there are no combines to do the hard work for us of serving and being Christ’s church. There are only ripe fields and workers. As Christ’s church, we are the workers being sent out into those ripe harvest fields.

Since I myself tend to be one myself, I know the cynics out there are thinking what a slick salesman I’m being: You’re thinking something like, “Tim, you’re in charge of organizing next week’s Be the Church Sunday, and you’re just trying to get us to sign up for this event.” In all honesty, there is some truth to that. I do want you to sign up and a part of serving in our community. However, the point of this sermon series on Being the Church and serving is not just to go out and serve for a couple hours on a Sunday morning or afternoon. The point is to recognize that serving our community is not just one aspect of being a Christian; it’s the very form or shape being a Christian takes in the world, because this was how Jesus lived his life and he is our model. As Jesus said in Matthew 20 and Mark 10, the Son came not to be served but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many. So, this upcoming service Sunday is intended to be a first step in living out our Christian faith in way that imitates the life of Jesus who was always serving no matter where he was. In fact, there will continue to be more opportunities for service to be integrated into our lives together as we move forward from this series, so look for that in the coming weeks and months.

Actually, you don’t even have to wait until next Sunday to start serving others. You can begin here today by truly listening to brother or sister in Christ instead of seeking to find the quickest exit route that avoids interacting with people. You could also let someone ahead of you in line at the grocery store deli. Begin to pay closer attention to those around you and be attuned to their needs. Listen for a quiet voice of desperation or despair encoded in the niceties of ordinary conversation. Ask honest and good questions of people and their lives instead of talking about the weather or how the Reds did, besides we all know they lost anyway. Granted, these are rather small steps to begin a life that imitates Christ’s life of service, but we must start somewhere.

Sisters and brothers, the fields are ripe for harvest and there are too few workers, but Christ is sending us out into the harvest fields anyway, and he’s waiting to celebrate the joys of success when we return. Go from here today knowing Christ wants to offer praise to his Father for your acts of service no matter how small they might be. As we come for communion in a few minutes know that you approach and partake in the risen Christ, the one who came not to be served but to serve. Go from the table nourished by Christ’s eternal and continuous act of serving his people and his church so that we may be Christ’s hands and feet of a plentiful harvest. Amen.

A Quick Rant

I have become embroiled and nearly consumed with the ELCA's decision to ordain and support same sex relationships lately. Let me be clear that I disagree with my church's decision, because I find Scripture and the Christian tradition quite clear on the condemnation of homosexual behavior. (I think Richard Hays's reading is refreshingly honest and persuasive).
However, I find something else more disturbing: Christians don't get nearly as pissed off about economic injustice, which is talked about much more in Scripture. Why don't we get upset about it? Because it would condemn the very lives we lead in our late capitalist culture, and we don't want to know the truth about what our lives of luxury and gratifying our nearly every desires costs other people whether they be our next door neighbors or those living in China. We're willing to countenance dividing the church over gay sex but not over greed and unjust use of money? Why? Because Scripture isn't as clear on money? Try again, and think more of Karl Marx and the Frankfurt School.

Dark Augustinianism is taking over my soul. Hopefully, it doesn't lead to Nietzsche...

Personal and Theological Musings on Ministry

Despite the (often true) criticisms leveled against George Lindbeck's The Nature of Doctrine, he was certainly correct to distinguish between first and second order theological discourse--the former being the performative/practical life of being Christian and the latter being more "academic" talk of God. One of the upshots of this distinction is the priveleging of Christian life and practice; in other words, it's more imporant than second order discourse (ie what theologians say).

To be sure, Lindbeck is not new in making this distinction. Aquinas said as much when he claimed that the peasant in the "pew" utters and possesses the same faith as the theologian when s/he recites the creed. Moreover, Lindbeck is not saying that second order discourse is irrelevant or unimportant--that would have been an egregious performative contradiction. (Reinard Hutter's criticism and development of Lindbeck in Suffering Divine Things is relevant here, especially in thinking through theology as a pneumatological practice of the Church).

I think we all know this to be true, that Christian practice/discipleship is more important than speculative theology--but it has become painfully obvious to me as of late. I have been working on revamping our adult education program at my parish, organizing a major service day for our entire congregration, and beginning to help get an African refugee ministry off the ground in downtown Dayton. I say this not to boast, but to display the unspeakable amount of potential spiritual harm that one can inflict in the first order discourse that is ministry. That's right, harm.

Of course, what follows is not what I want to happen, but these are real possible outcomes: Imagine putting together a terrible program/curriculum that doesn't really teach people about Jesus and how to follow him faithfully; it could simply reinforce bourgeios American life--that's a real possiblity as many churches display across this country. Imagine mismanaging such a huge task of sending hundreds of people out to perform acts of service that it turns out people have a bad experience and fail to make the connection that being a Christian requires a life of service--if you know me, that's a real possibility. Imagine trying to offer hospitality to international strangers seeking a better life but not knowing or possessing the tools they need to reach it only to dash their hopes after weeks of excitement and hope of progress. These are the real nuts and bolts of first order discourse and entail huge risk (spiritual, physical, legal, etc) for everyone involved--not to mention leaders who will be judged more harshly according to James 3.

What I do in my university office requires much less risk. So what if my paper gets rejected by a conference or journal? What if I never get to retire as a professor some day? What if I never finish my dissertation? Those all seem rather lame compared to the potential hazards of ministry. Again, this doesn't diminish the real disappointment of being rejected or leaving a task unfinished (I will finish damn it!) or even the fiscal and relational consequences of such things on a family and marriage. However, these still seem quite small when compared to those in the previous paragraph.

It seems Paul's encouragement to pray uncessingly becomes more intelligible in situations such as these where, without divine providence, spiritual harm is the likey result. John 5:16-22 also provides some solace insofar as it indicates we are never working alone, since the infinite God of action and rest goes before us and with us healing and restoring his people, even the ones who screw it up for others in major ways.

So, is ministry worth the risk? I ask myself that often and I answer differently depending on the day and my mood. It's a good thing God isn't so fickle.

Blessings,

Tim F.

A Sermon for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Below is a sermon I preached last weekend at my parish. Church ministry has been crazy as of late, so I apologize for the lack of posting. Hopefully, some will find this edifying.

Sunday July 26, 2009
John 6:1-21 & Ephesians 3: 14-21

Some of you may have heard the phrase: “Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts…” Well, I have a friend with a different outlook on this popular saying. A couple years ago at UD, we were having our perfunctory beginning of the year get together for the theology department, and, like every obligatory social event, we went around the room introducing ourselves. To add a little fun to such a mindless routine we were asked to share what our own self made bumper sticker would say. It came to my friend and he said: “Power corrupts; absolute power, that would be pretty cool.”

This morning we’re talking about power and how, as Christians, we are empowered. Now, I chose this way of putting it very intentionally, because it’s the biblical way of understanding it. Not to get too grammatically technical, but you’ll notice I used the passive voice to describe Christians and power. We are empowered; it’s something we receive. In Acts, Jesus tells his disciples that they will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon them. So, power is not something we possess apart from God’s gift. God gives us the power and authority we enjoy.

Due to our culture, we quite understandably think about power and its nature in largely negative ways. When we see business and bank executives send the world economy into a tailspin by trying to make a quick buck, and world leaders recruit children for their armies in Africa, it’s hard not to be cynical about anyone who holds a position of power and of power itself. As Paul tells us later in Ephesians 6 (v.12) we are to stand up to these powers of evil by putting on the armor of God: Paul writes, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world…” However, the power that God gives us is not evil or bad. To be sure, we can twist and distort it (and we often do), but the power God gives is not intended for such use.
So, what is the power of God that we receive? First of all, as Paul says in verse 16 of our reading this morning, it’s a gift of that gives us strength.

Our gospel lesson provides a wonderful example of how this strengthening works. The scene opens with large crowds coming to Jesus around dinner time, and Jesus tests Philip: “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” Jesus asked. This is kind of a trick question, because Jesus gets the disciples thinking in ordinary terms by asking where they would buy bread. Jesus wanted to see if the disciples could think outside the box and understand the power of God. Unfortunately, Philip did not. He took the bait and responded in an ordinary manner: “Six months wages would not buy enough bread for each to have a little.” In other words, Philip believes the situation is impossible. There’s no solution; there’s no hope. We echo Philip with our seemingly innocuous phrases of “That’s the way things are.” Or “That’s just the real world.” How often are we like Philip and believe something or someone to be hopeless? To believe a situation to be hopeless or impossible disallows God to strengthen us, because strength requires something to be strengthened. Giving up in hopelessness or by believing that something is impossible says that we can offer nothing to God of that will be of any help—as if God couldn’t possibly strengthen anything or anyone in the situation to help make it whole.

Andrew gets closer to an authentic response of faith, but even his words drip with dampening limitation on what God can do. He says, “Here is a boy with 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish, but what are they among so many?” I think most of us are probably like Andrew. We know we can offer something, but we think it is far too inadequate to make a difference or effect any real or significant change.

My brother in law Matt was in a severe car accident a little over 10 years ago in Arizona. He was life flighted from the scene, slipped into a coma that ended up lasting almost 6 months, and was being kept alive by machines for a while as well. When my wife Corrie went to see him for the first time she was warned by the nurses about his condition: he had tubes coming out of him and had all sorts of monitors hooked up to him as well. Corrie was also told not to expect much, because Matt had been completely unresponsive up to that point. Needless to say, Corrie felt very inadequate and uncertain going into that hospital room for the first time. She felt that her simple presence wasn’t anywhere close to what the situation seemed to require.

It’s easy to find ourselves feeling inadequate even in circumstances much more ordinary than the one Corrie found herself in. However, we deny the truth of the gospel if we believe the lie that we have not been given what we need.

Brothers and sisters hear these words of 2 Peter 1:3-4 3 “His divine power has given us everything needed for life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 4 Thus he has given us, through these things, his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may escape from the corruption that is in the world because of lust, and may become participants of the divine nature.” Did you hear that? We have been given EVERYTHING we need for life and godliness. Not just some things or a few things but everything. 2 Peter can say this because what we are given is nothing less than Christ himself! In our reading from Ephesians, Paul says that Christ dwells in us through the Holy Spirit. Can you imagine what our life would be like if we believed that the power and wisdom of God, Jesus Christ, dwelled in us? Can you imagine if we took our baptism seriously? If we realized that Christ himself strengthens us each week at the communion table?

We must remember that even if we don’t believe these things and live in the fullness of God, we still have been given the power to do so. In other words, we have no excuse because God has generously bestowed upon us nothing less than himself. We simply need to live into our giftedness. It’s not a question of if we have gifts. It’s a question of living into the fullness of the power that we have already been given.

So how do we do that? How do we not just recognize the power God has given us, but live in that power as well? Moreover, what does that look like? As usual, Jesus’ actions are instructive. Notice how Jesus responded to this situation: he begins with “the little” that was available. 5 loaves and 2 small fish. Note here as well that Jesus didn’t just make food appear out of nowhere. He uses what’s already available. Five loaves and two small fish were not inadequate for Jesus. If Jesus can use the semblance of faith that Andrew showed and 5 loaves and 2 fish, he can use our meager attempts at faithfulness too. He can make our bread and fish into an overabundant fullness. Or, in the words of Paul: he is able “to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine.” In short, our first step is to offer what we have, despite our own feelings of inadequacy, trusting that God will work. We should act knowing we have been given all we need, God himself, even if we struggle to believe it.

When Corrie did finally go into her brother’s hospital room, she elicited the first response from Matt that he had given. Corrie asked Matt if she could pray with him and as soon as she did his heart rate jumped indicating he recognized her voice and was responding to the request for prayer. God used Corrie to begin the healing process that Matt would go through. Matt was in his coma for several more months and has not made a full physical recovery. He’s entirely dependent on Corrie’s parents for everything, even for the most mundane daily tasks and human requirements. It would be easy and is easy to look at this situation and think God has NOT accomplished more than we can ask or imagine. Because, of course, Corrie’s family did ask God for a full recovery and we can certainly imagine Matt being restored to full health. Similarly, we’ve all probably asked God for things (even good things) that he did not answer the way we wanted him to, even though it is within his power to accomplish. What should we make of this? At this point, we must attend to Scripture carefully.

Let’s start with the verses from 2 Peter I read a little bit ago. Notice how it says that we have been given everything we NEED for life and godliness—not everything we want. God has never promised to give us everything we want even if our wants are good; he knows that would be a terrible idea that might lead us to relate to him as a kind of magic genie primarily available for our wishes. Furthermore, granting all our wants, even if good, would not require us to ultimately depend on God, because our want would cease and find it’s fulfillment in the gift God provided, not in God himself. God is not to be instrumentalized or used for what goods he can provide us. As St. Augustine wisely stated, God is never to be used, instead he is only to be enjoyed. God is an end in himself, not just a means to another end, even the good ends we seek.

Now let’s take a close look at Ephesians 3. Paul links God’s power in us to knowing the love of Christ and being grounded in that love—a love that surpasses knowledge because of its infinite depth, height and length. In other words, to understand the love that is our source and end, is not to acquire some kind of intellectual explanation. It’s to know God personally. Of course, this includes our intellect, and we cannot neglect that even though that would be easier. After all, God does not ask us to believe blindly. To know the love of Christ, that power at work within us since our baptism, as Paul describes, happens on our knees and in the meditation of Scripture; it happens in our toughest times where we when we come to our Father with little or nothing to offer, except ourselves, at the apparent end of our rope of sanity.

I’m all too aware that this isn’t the most satisfying answer to why God doesn’t always answer our prayers the way we want him to. But, I think seeking an explanation for that is like seeking an explanation for why our spouse or best friend loves us. Even if we found such an explanation, it probably wouldn’t fully satisfy our curiosity and wonder at such a profound mystery. Why does Corrie love me? To be honest, I couldn’t tell you, especially given that she knows me so well. But, I’m sure that she does love me, and I become even more certain of that as we grow in our relationship together. That’s the type of relational knowledge that comes to comprehend the length, height, and depth of Christ. A love, that according to Philippians 2, “did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross.” And it was because of this love of humanity that God exalted him. This is the mystery of God’s love that is at work within us. A mystery that requires more than a lifetime to comprehend and be grounded in, and only in this love can we begin to comprehend the answers to our greatest questions.

So, a life that takes seriously the power at work within us has a relational knowledge with God as its purpose. It doesn’t seek to instrumentalize God or use him; it seeks to enjoy him and the mystery of his love for us that already dwells in us through the work of the Holy Spirit.

A life empowered with Christ also takes risks of faithfulness. Unfortunately, like Andrew and Philip, we fail to understand the power of God that we have been given. We think that situations are impossible or that we’re too inadequate. However, as we’ve learned, we have nothing less than Christ himself dwelling in us. Therefore, what should be impossible for Christians to imagine is actually an impossible situation. If we think we are inadequate or the situation is impossible, we believe that God is not present and at work within us. In short, we take God to be a liar and fail to fulfill our baptism. Instead, we need to take steps of faith no matter how small or fledgling they may be.

There are many ways to take small steps of faith. A good beginning is to identify places where we can take steps of faith by knowing how God has gifted us. While we all are empowered by the same Christ and Holy Spirit, we each have individual “specialties” or skills and abilities. We often refer to these gifts as “coming naturally” but Christians know these gifts come from God.

Sometimes we need help finding what we love and what we’re good at. In high school, I felt God was calling me to youth ministry. I thought that playing crazy games with teenagers and sharing some bible stories would be great. Of course, this is far from what actual youth ministry is, but that’s how I conceived it then. So, I did a coop program at my high school that let me shadow my youth pastor for academic credit. Believe it or not, I actually got to leave school at lunch time three days a week for this. See why I loved the idea of youth ministry! I even selected and went to one of the best college programs for youth ministry. However, a little more than half way through my college degree, I realized something about myself that I didn’t know before: I actually liked to learn, and I especially liked to ask and seek answers to difficult theological and philosophical questions. Moreover, I became a little burnt out by a full time ministry internship that my program required. By the time I graduated with my degree in youth ministry, I had made plans to attend graduate school and felt God sharpening my call to young people in the direction of higher education. In fact, after my internship I didn’t think I would ever do local church ministry again. While I still continue to pursue the call to higher education, I have also seen God reopen doors for church ministry right here at Epiphany and who knows where God will lead from here.

The point I’m trying to make is that circumstances change and so do we. It’s good to utilize new opportunities to see where God maybe calling you and how he could use you even in surprising ways. I certainly didn’t think I would be on staff at a church again a couple years ago. In this spirit, we’ve made available a spiritual gifts inventory for our disciples here at Epiphany in order to provide a structured way to reflect and observe how God has and is currently using us. If you haven’t had the chance to take one of these home please do so, fill it out, and bring it back so we can more effectively minister here at Epiphany. If it’s more convenient to fill it out online, you can go to the church’s website and fill one out there as well.

Brothers and sisters, we have indeed been given everything we need for life and godliness, because Christ himself dwells in us through the power and work of the Holy Spirit. Come to the table in a few moments knowing that you will receive Christ, the Bread of Life, and that no situation is impossible because of his presence. Come forward with a more comprehensive knowledge of the height, length and depth of Christ’s love for us that is already at work within us trusting that even when our prayers are not answered in the ways we want them answered that God is faithful and working for our good. Make these steps toward Christ at the table be our first small steps of faith this week and let’s see what God will do with them. Amen.


Tim F.

Benedict's Caritas in Veritate

Here are a few noteworthy quotes from first sections of the Pope's encyclical released today:


1. "Because it is filled with truth, charity can be understood in the abundance of its values, it can be shared and communicated. Truth, in fact, is lógos which creates diá-logos, and hence communication and communion. Truth, by enabling men and women to let go of their subjective opinions and impressions, allows them to move beyond cultural and historical limitations and to come together in the assessment of the value and substance of things. Truth opens and unites our minds in the lógos of love: this is the Christian proclamation and testimony of charity. In the present social and cultural context, where there is a widespread tendency to relativize truth, practising charity in truth helps people to understand that adhering to the values of Christianity is not merely useful but essential for building a good society and for true integral human development. A Christianity of charity without truth would be more or less interchangeable with a pool of good sentiments, helpful for social cohesion, but of little relevance. In other words, there would no longer be any real place for God in the world. Without truth, charity is confined to a narrow field devoid of relations. It is excluded from the plans and processes of promoting human development of universal range, in dialogue between knowledge and praxis."


2. "The global market has stimulated first and foremost, on the part of rich countries, a search for areas in which to outsource production at low cost with a view to reducing the prices of many goods, increasing purchasing power and thus accelerating the rate of development in terms of greater availability of consumer goods for the domestic market. Consequently, the market has prompted new forms of competition between States as they seek to attract foreign businesses to set up production centres, by means of a variety of instruments, including favourable fiscal regimes and deregulation of the labour market. These processes have led to a downsizing of social security systems as the price to be paid for seeking greater competitive advantage in the global market, with consequent grave danger for the rights of workers, for fundamental human rights and for the solidarity associated with the traditional forms of the social State. Systems of social security can lose the capacity to carry out their task, both in emerging countries and in those that were among the earliest to develop, as well as in poor countries. Here budgetary policies, with cuts in social spending often made under pressure from international financial institutions, can leave citizens powerless in the face of old and new risks; such powerlessness is increased by the lack of effective protection on the part of workers' associations. Through the combination of social and economic change, trade union organizations experience greater difficulty in carrying out their task of representing the interests of workers, partly because Governments, for reasons of economic utility, often limit the freedom or the negotiating capacity of labour unions. Hence traditional networks of solidarity have more and more obstacles to overcome. The repeated calls issued within the Church's social doctrine, beginning with Rerum Novarum, for the promotion of workers' associations that can defend their rights must therefore be honoured today even more than in the past, as a prompt and far-sighted response to the urgent need for new forms of cooperation at the international level, as well as the local level."


3. "In this context, the theme of integral human development takes on an even broader range of meanings: the correlation between its multiple elements requires a commitment to foster the interaction of the different levels of human knowledge in order to promote the authentic development of peoples. Often it is thought that development, or the socio-economic measures that go with it, merely require to be implemented through joint action. This joint action, however, needs to be given direction, because “all social action involves a doctrine”. In view of the complexity of the issues, it is obvious that the various disciplines have to work together through an orderly interdisciplinary exchange. Charity does not exclude knowledge, but rather requires, promotes, and animates it from within. Knowledge is never purely the work of the intellect. It can certainly be reduced to calculation and experiment, but if it aspires to be wisdom capable of directing man in the light of his first beginnings and his final ends, it must be “seasoned” with the “salt” of charity. Deeds without knowledge are blind, and knowledge without love is sterile. Indeed, “the individual who is animated by true charity labours skilfully to discover the causes of misery, to find the means to combat it, to overcome it resolutely”. Faced with the phenomena that lie before us, charity in truth requires first of all that we know and understand, acknowledging and respecting the specific competence of every level of knowledge. Charity is not an added extra, like an appendix to work already concluded in each of the various disciplines: it engages them in dialogue from the very beginning. The demands of love do not contradict those of reason. Human knowledge is insufficient and the conclusions of science cannot indicate by themselves the path towards integral human development. There is always a need to push further ahead: this is what is required by charity in truth. Going beyond, however, never means prescinding from the conclusions of reason, nor contradicting its results. Intelligence and love are not in separate compartments: love is rich in intelligence and intelligence is full of love.

This means that moral evaluation and scientific research must go hand in hand, and that charity must animate them in a harmonious interdisciplinary whole, marked by unity and distinction. The Church's social doctrine, which has “an important interdisciplinary dimension”, can exercise, in this perspective, a function of extraordinary effectiveness. It allows faith, theology, metaphysics and science to come together in a collaborative effort in the service of humanity. It is here above all that the Church's social doctrine displays its dimension of wisdom. Paul VI had seen clearly that among the causes of underdevelopment there is a lack of wisdom and reflection, a lack of thinking capable of formulating a guiding synthesis, for which “a clear vision of all economic, social, cultural and spiritual aspects” is required. The excessive segmentation of knowledge, the rejection of metaphysics by the human sciences, the difficulties encountered by dialogue between science and theology are damaging not only to the development of knowledge, but also to the development of peoples, because these things make it harder to see the integral good of man in its various dimensions. The “broadening [of] our concept of reason and its application” is indispensable if we are to succeed in adequately weighing all the elements involved in the question of development and in the solution of socio-economic problems."

Blessed...

...are those who invented electronically searchable databases.

...are those who entered the ENTIRE Patrologia Latina into one of the aforementioned databases.

...are those who approved the decision for UD's library to subscribe to PL's database.

Figural Exegesis, the Problem of "Meaning," and Divine Simplicity

I'm currently writing a section of my dissertation on Erich Auerbach's famous essay "Figura." Along with this, I have been engaging the work of John David Dawson in Christian Figural Reading and Fashioning of Identity (University of California Press, 2002), and I must say this is the best contemporary book I've ever read on figural exegesis. Dawson carefully and wonderfully handles the common objection many make regarding figural exegesis: the antitype of the figura eclipses and erases the figura itself thereby eradicating historicality and particularity.

While Dawson's main task is to defend Origen from the likes of Daniel Boyarin (and with him certain streams of poststructuralism) and Auerbach, which he does brilliantly, it is clear that if Dawson can defend Origen, then a defense could be made for all other early Christian exegetes. Part of Dawson's defense is to distinguish between allegorical reading and figural reading; Auerbach makes a similar distinction. Allegorical reading, according to Auerbach, leaves behind the historical figure for its contemporary meaning or fulfillment. Thus, Scripture is simply used as an instrumentalized jumping board into the heights of speculation that has nothing to do with the actual words and their historical composition and character. Figural reading, on the other hand, seeks to preserve the historical figure even while speaking of its fulfullment. In other words, the particularity of Joshua as a figure of Christ is not lost or forgotten in its fulfillment in Christ. Joshua still has his own historical significance in some way independent of his antitype, despite the Christian fulfillment in the person of Jesus Christ.

Like Auerbach, Dawson defends figural reading (and eventually allegorical reading after a reevaluation of what it is) from the objection that the historical antitype is the "real meaning" that leaves the preceding text of historical figure behind by arguing that historicality and particularly are preserved, albeit from within a different understanding of history and particularity. In other words, what is in question from the start is the constitutional nature of history and particularity as such. Origen is not guilty (as a whole) for "spiriting away" (Auerbach's description) the text and historicality, because Origen has a different conception of the nature, origin, and purpose of history. In short, history is intended to be transformed through the Incarnation into the likeness of Christ and this is what figural reading produces: a transformed reader of Scripture. Thus, to preserve historicality simply is to imitate that likeness of Christ through the reading of Scripture in all its plentitude. For example, the reader who understands Joshua to be a figura fulfilled in Christ and who lives a life of charity that imitates Christ has already preserved Joshua's historicity by this imitation, because the same God who made Joshua a figure became Incarnate in Christ.

As I have alluded to here, which is what Dawson only alludes to, is the possibility of "figural causation." In fact, Bede implies such a thing several times in De Templo that can be seen in Historia. The issue here to be wrestled with is the multiplicity (i.e. composite nature) of historical actions and events and the simple providence of God. This often ignored theological and philosophical backdrop is what makes figural exegesis possible, and I intend to do more work with it via Bede and his Augustinian heritage.

As always, I welcome feedback, questions, and comments.

Pentecost Blessings,

Tim