January 29, 2012

Fourth Sunday of Epiphany Year B, 2012 

Reverend Gregg Wood

Today’s Gospel is about unclean spirits.  Here’s a joke question:  what is a picket line of unclean spirits called?  Answer:  a DEMONstration!

Apparently this is what Jesus ran into in the synagogue at Capernaum.   A man with an unclean spirit comes into the synagogue, and Jesus commands the spirit to come out of the man.   But as he does so, he reveals Jesus’ identity, or as we might say, he “outs” Jesus.  “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth.?  Have you come to destroy us?  I know who you are, the Holy One of God.”

So it was a little picket line against Jesus – a picket line of one.  One demon against Jesus.  Jesus does succeed in casting out this demon and restoring the afflicted man to his normal state of mind. 

The Gospel suggests that today is an appropriate time to reflect upon unclean spirits and demons.   I think it is especially important to think about something we might call spiritual bondage – enslavement to some spiritual power or force.   The man possessed by an unclean spirit was in a state of spiritual bondage.  As we shall see, that’s not just a peculiar thing that happened back in Bible times.  There’s still a lot of that going around. 

First of all, it might surprise some people to hear the word “spirit” connected with a word like “unclean” or “evil.”  We hear so much talk about spirituality, and about how it is so much better to be a spiritual person than not. 

Notice, however, that Jesus and the unclean spirit, however different they may be in other ways, in one way are very much alike: they are both spiritual.  In fact we might almost say that in the spiritual realm, it takes one to know one.  The unclean spirit recognizes Jesus immediately, and he says so:  “I know who you are, the Holy One of God.”  Likewise, Jesus recognizes the unclean spirit; he rebukes him and commands him to leave the possessed man.  Both are spiritual beings; it takes one to know one.

There are many references to unclean spirits and demons in the Bible.  In Ephesians 6, St. Paul tells us, “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”  Paul is clearly telling us that there are spiritual forces at work, that some of them are up to no good, and that there is a struggle going on between the forces of good and the forces of evil. 

In the Baptismal service, the very first question that is addressed to the candidate is, “Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?” 

The English theologian CS Lewis makes the point that the word “spiritual” does not necessarily mean “good.”  He says that both St. Francis and Adolf Hitler were spiritual men.  He also points out that the more spiritual a person is, the greater power and influence he has, either for good or for evil.

So there are evil spirits or spiritual forces, just as there are good spirits.  The next logical question is, what do they want?  What is their purpose?  More specifically, what do they want of us?

Let’s ask first about the good spirits.  Let’s ask about God.  What does God want from us, and what does he actually give us? 

Again, I turn to the Baptismal promises for an answer.  Another question that is asked of the candidates for baptism is this:  Do you promise to follow and obey Jesus Christ as your Lord?  God asks for our obedience, our service.  We are expected to obey the commandments, including the commandments to love God and love our neighbors as ourselves.   Some commit themselves more particularly to the service of God and seek a plan and direction for their lives.  Obedience, or service, is a key element in our relationship with God.

What does God actually give us, if we follow and obey him?  The answer may surprise you: freedom.  If we follow Jesus, or God, along the path of obedience, it leads ultimately to greater freedom.

A good example of this is fasting.  We are encouraged to fast, that is, to eat less food as a matter of spiritual discipline, if not all the time, at least occasionally.  Now fasting is real obedience.  Most of us love food, and even the thought of eating less than we are used to is unpleasant.  But what happens when you actually fast?  You get used to less food, You discover you can do without.   You can take it or leave it.  You have more choice in the matter.  You achieve more freedom --- in this case, freedom from bondage to food.

So God, and the good spirits, ask for obedience but in the end give us freedom.  There is a famous prayer which says that “God’s service is perfect freedom,” and if we follow the path of obedience we find that to be true.

So much for the good spirits.  What about the evil spirits?  They do exactly the opposite of the good spirits.  They promise freedom, but what they deliver is slavery, or bondage. 

A good example of this is alcoholism, or any form of addiction.  (Addictions are now widely recognized as being spiritual diseases.)  Initially, alcohol consumption seems to promise greater sociability, greater charm, a sense of exhilaration, a feeling of power – in a word, freedom.  And it delivers on that promise, momentarily, briefly.  But as a person gets deeper into alcohol addiction, he finds that alcohol becomes increasingly the center of his life, displacing other loves and concerns.  Soon he becomes its slave.  He is in a state of spiritual bondage.

In the Gospels, when people are described as having unclean spirits, they are usually not in control of their movements.  The demons control them, sometimes causing convulsions or loud cries, and sometimes making them do things that are harmful to themselves, such as jumping into a fire.  Evil spirits promise freedom but deliver bondage.

Some people may be skeptical of evil spirits.  They may say that evil spirits are just an excuse.  You can do something bad and blame the spirit.  Remember the comedian Flip Wilson?  When he was caught doing something wrong, he always said, “The devil made me do it.”  So are we always responsible for our actions?  Is spiritual bondage just a convenient excuse?  I think the answer is not a simple “either or.”  At the beginning of a relationship with spiritual forces, we are in control.  We have the power to ignore the spirit.  But as the relationship with the spirit deepens, control gradually shifts from ourselves to the spiritual force until, in the end, we are in bondage.

What can we do about unclean or evil spirits, or spiritual forces?  Today’s Gospel gives us the answer.  What happens to the man who is possessed?  Jesus rebuked the spirit within the man, and he came out of him.  Just as it takes one to know one, just as it takes a spirit to know a spirit, so too it takes a spirit to overpower another spirit.  A more powerful spirit.  What do the witnesses in the synagogue say about Jesus?  “He^* commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.”  Jesus has power over the unclean spirits --- not only those in his own time but those of today.

The Church should take spiritual evil more seriously than it sometimes does.  Years ago I was friendly with a fellow priest who was a kind of specialist in demons and evil spirits.  This was on Long Island, and at that time there was a minor epidemic of Satanism, and Satan worship, in many of the Island’s high schools.  There was a lot of weird misconduct that grew out of this spiritual influence.  My friend would attend conferences on Satanism and how to handle it.  He said the people who attended these conferences were teachers, guidance counselors, and administrators from the public schools – but not clergy or church people.  He was usually the only clergyman present.

Unclean spirits and spiritual forces take many forms.  Occasionally they come in traditional form, such as the demon possession we see in the Gospels, or the Satanism that was infecting the schools.  More often these spirits take more conventional forms.  The spirit of addiction says, “I’m entitled to feel good.”  The spirit of greed says, “Everybody else is doing it, why shouldn’t I get my piece of the action?” 

        The only power that can overcome an evil spirit is a stronger spirit.  That is why one of the 12 steps of the AA program asks the alcoholic to turn his life over to a higher power.  It is only that higher power, which we call Jesus or the Holy Spirit, that can deliver us from spirits that would harm and enslave us.   This power of deliverance is so important for us that Jesus himself taught us to pray for it, for every time we say the Lord’s prayer, we say, “Lead us not into temptation, But DELIVER US FROM EVIL.” 

January 20, 2012

Third Sunday after Epiphany, Year B, 2012

Reverend Gregg Wood

About this time last year, I visited the island nation of Cyprus in the Eastern Mediterranean. As a part of this visit I saw many churches and monasteries, most of them Greek Orthodox. Probably the most fascinating monastery was the one founded by St. Neophytos, near the city of Paphos in Western Cyprus.

Neophytos was born in 1134 in Cyprus. When he reached the age of 18, his family arranged a marriage to a local woman, but Neophytos had other plans, so he ran away from his family home to become a student and a novice monk at various monastic houses in Cyprus and elsewhere. After seven years of this travel-study program, Neophytos returned home hoping to be forgiven. However, such forgiveness was not forthcoming; he had humiliated both his own family and his fiancée and her family, and the feelings were still pretty raw. So he decided to become a hermit monk. He went to a mountainous site north of Paphos, to a place where there is a sheer rock face similar to the rock cliffs one sees on the Shawangunk Ridge above New Paltz.

Here, part way up the Cliffside, he discerned a small cave which he decided to use as his hermitage. Gradually he expanded it, and after some years it housed a chapel complete with furnishings and frescoes in the Orthodox tradition, as well as his residence, or hermitage.  Neophytos became famous for his wisdom and piety, and gradually a monastic community formed around him, although it was not his desire to take on disciples – his bishop insisted on it.   

Although he had no formal education, he wrote extensively, not only on theological and devotional subjects, but also on the political and historical events in the world about him. King Richard the Lionhearted of England conquered Cyprus in 1191 A.D. as part of the third Crusade, and the writings of Neophytos are one of our chief sources of information about the events of that time.

As his fame and influence grew, however, Neophytos had to sacrifice some of the solitude which he originally sought.  He decided that after forty years in his beloved cave of the Holy Cross he would have to leave and go higher up on the precipice. Placing a ladder on the ledge outside his cave he stood on top of the ladder and excavated a small opening which with time he enlarged so that it would become his new place of habitation.  Here, he dwelt in complete isolation for the remainder of his life, coming out only for Sunday services. Two monks hoisted his daily food and drink in a basket to him, and this was his only contact with the outer world.

St. Neophytos and his monastery were brought to mind by verses from today's Psalm 62. Verses six through eight could almost have been written by this Saint about his own vocation:

For God alone my soul in silence waits; *
truly, my hope is in him.

7

He alone is my rock and my salvation, *
my stronghold, so that I shall not be shaken.

8

In God is my safety and my honor; *
God is my strong rock and my refuge.

Neophytos wanted simply to wait in silence for God.  He  found shelter in a cave in a rock so that he might seek God, who was his rock, his refuge, and his salvation.

What does all of this have to do with us today?   At this time of year, during the Epiphany season, we hear a lot about the call of God. Today's gospel, for example, is about the calling of the first disciples.

What are we and they called to do? We are called to love others. There are many ways in which we can do this, many gifts, and many ministries, but the object of all of them is to spread the love of God.  There are many things we can do to help and serve others in and through the church. The assumption is that, by the living a life of active service to others, we can best serve them and the God of love we believe in.

But there is another way of loving and serving God. It is less familiar to us because we live in an action-oriented, results-oriented society.  This way of life is called the contemplative way, to contrast it with the active way. 

Now most of us would agree that we need times of contemplation, times of retreat, times of quiet worship in our lives. We would say that these times of worshipful withdrawal from life give us balance – they strengthen us for the life of active service, which is the main point of our lives. However, for some people, the contemplative life is not just a means to an end; it is itself the whole point and purpose of life.  It is what they are called to do and to be.

What the psalmist was seeking, and what St. Neophytos was seeking, was the freedom to live this contemplative life – not as a means to something else, but for its own sake.  Both wanted to

wait alone in silence for God, to find refuge in a rocky cave where they could fix their hope on God alone.

A modern commentator, looking at the life of St. Neophytos, would probably say something like this.  "St. Neophytos carved an extensive network of caves on the side of the cliff; he caused a Chapel to be built and outfitted in one of these caves; he founded an order of monks and was their leader for many years; he wrote extensively and his works are still important to us today; and he provided spiritual guidance to the people of Cyprus during a period of turbulent politics." 

And St. Neophytos would probably have looked puzzled at the commentator and then said, "Yes, there were those distractions in my life, and maybe they did some good; yet how much better I would have liked it if I could have been left alone in my cave to simply wait upon God, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord all the days of my life."  

January 18, 2012

Second Sunday after Epiphany, Year B

Reverend Gregg D. Wood

One of the best-loved hymns, for many American Christians, is the hymn by the ship captain and reformed slave-trader John Newton: Amazing Grace.  This hymn was even included in the 1982 revision of our own Episcopal hymnal.  (Hymn #671) 

Its popularity seems to increase every year.  One of the staples at the funerals of many of the firefighters and police who perished on September 11, 2001, was a lone bagpiper in the distance playing Amazing Grace.

The hymn expresses a certain way of coming to God; it is a certain kind of spiritual narrative.  Let’s look at the words:

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me!

I once was lost, but now am found,

Was blind but now I see.

The words tell a story, the story of s person’s life with God.  And notice, it is a before and after story.  I had one kind of life before, says the narrator; then amazing grace came along, and changed me.  And my life has been different ever since.

How does he describe his life before grace?  He says he was a wretch in his first life.  That’s pretty strong; but he goes on:  “I once was lost, but now am found.”   These words recall the story of the Prodigal Son in Luke’s Gospel.  The son who went off to a far country and squandered his inheritance in “dissolute living.”   Finally, he runs out of money and is reduced to taking care of pigs.  He has nothing to eat; he even looks enviously at the food that the pigs eat.  He repents, and decides to return to his home and his father.  He asks to be taken back, not as a son, but as a lowly hired servant.  His father welcomes him back with open arms, and, at the end, his father says to the young man’s older brother, “This your brother was dead, and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” 

You couldn’t use any stronger language to describe a change in life.  Before, DEAD; after, ALIVE.  Before, LOST; after, FOUND.  Before, BLIND; after, I SEE.  The hymn is telling a story about a dramatic conversion from a life of wretchedness to a life of grace and moral and spiritual beauty. 

Not only is it dramatic, it is also sudden.  “How precious did that grace appear / the hour I first believed.”   The narrator refers to the hour he first believed.  No doubt he knows and remembers well that day, and that hour, and the place where it happened.  His conversion was sudden and instantaneous, like the onset of a hurricane.  A hurricane of grace.  And it changed his life forever.

So this is one kind of spiritual story.  The story of the sudden and dramatic conversion.  It reflects the experience of many people, including

·        St. Paul, who saw a blinding light while he was on the road to Damascus, and heard a voice saying, Saul, why do you persecute me?

·        St Augustine, who had a dramatic conversion at age 30;

·        John Wesley, the founder of Methodism; and

·        John Newton.

For many American Christians, especially those we would call evangelicals, this is the standard story.  The only real Christian is one who has had a sudden and dramatic conversion; or, to use the term that is frequently used, the only real Christian is one who has been “born again.” 

For evangelical Christians, one’s conversion is the all-important experience.  Everyone should have a conversion story, and it’s better if it is sudden and dramatic.  Everyone should be able to state “the day and the hour I first believed,” and what led to that experience, and what followed from it. 

A Southern Baptist minister once told me that every sermon in every Southern Baptist Church is supposed to end with an altar call, that is, an opportunity for the unconverted and the sinners to come forward and publicly repent of their sins and accept Christ as their Savior, and thereby receive the saving grace of the Holy Spirit. 

In other words, everyone should be able to tell a story of a sudden and dramatic conversion.  Everyone should be “born again.”

Former President Bush described himself as a born-again Christian.  In his story of his own conversion, he was increasingly an alcoholic until 1986, when, at the age of 40, he was led to repentance and amendment of life by the influence of evangelical religious leaders. 

Now there is no question that many Christians in history have had sudden and dramatic conversion experiences.  And some people continue to have them to this day.  There is no limit to the way in which God comes in to people’s lives, and this is certainly one way.

But it’s not the only way.  And, I suspect, it’s not the most common way.  That is why the popularity of “Amazing Grace” surprises me, because I don’t think it reflects the spiritual experience of most people. 

Is there another way?  Yes there is, and we can turn to the Scriptures themselves to see another way.  

Timothy was a companion, a protégé, and a trusted associate of St. Paul in his missionary work.  And in the 2^nd Letter to Timothy, Paul says, “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you. (ch. 1 vs. 5)”

Timothy received his faith from his grandmother and his mother.  That means he must have been raised as a Christian from his infancy.  No doubt these pious women sang hymns to him and told the stories of Jesus as they dandled him on their knees.

And that is the way many people receive their faith.  They grow up surrounded by it in their families and their church.  There is no need in such people for sudden and dramatic conversion, because there never was a time when they did not know Jesus and his love.  For many people, amazing grace does not have to come crashing into their lives, because it was there from the beginning.

The story of sudden and dramatic conversion is not the only story; it is not the only way in which people come to Christian truth and life.

 For some people this is a big issue, whether we come to God only as the result of a conversion experience as adults, or whether we can come to God gradually and before we are fully mature, perhaps even as infants.  This is a controversy of long standing among Christians.

 The psalm which we read today, Psalm 139, puts this whole subject in a different perspective.  The psalm begins by affirming that God knows us long before we know him:

Lord, you have searched me out and known me;

You know my sitting down and my rising up;

You discern my thoughts from afar.

And he goes on:

Indeed, there is not a word on my lips,

But you, O Lord, know it altogether.

 What is important, says the psalmist, is not how we came to know God.  What is important is that God knows us.  He searches us out.  He discerns our thoughts from afar.

God knows us from the beginning.  He initiates his relationship with each one of us. 

Think about that.

·        From the beginning God knew you and foresaw your life and your destiny;

·        from the beginning your name was written, you might say, on the palm of his hand;

·        from the beginning you were the apple of his eye.

 When I was in ninth grade, we had a standardized test in our math class.  And the class as a whole did moderately well.  When Mr. Burns, our teacher, told us this, everybody cheered.  But then he said, “You didn’t do all that well, so don’t break your arms patting yourselves on the back.”

I think that is the message for those who talk about their conversion and insist that everyone must be “born again”, according to their interpretation of those words:  Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back.  Whether you came to God by a dramatic conversion experience, or in another way, it wasn’t your doing, it was God’s doing, and you were destined for it from the beginning.  And for each of those who have a hurricane of grace (that is, a sudden and dramatic conversion), like St. Paul, there are probably a hundred who receive the grace of God as a gentle breeze throughout their lives, like Timothy.  What matters is not how we got there, but that we are where we are.  May we persevere in our walk with God and increasingly bring forth the fruits of the Spirit in our lives:   love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

January 18, 2012

First Sunday after Epiphany, Year B

Reverend Gregg D. Wood

“It’s time for a change.” 

That is a sentiment we hear a lot, often at a time of political elections.  Throw out the old guard, bring in the new.  No doubt we will hear it a lot as we enter an election year.  But there can be many different kinds of change.  Today we want to focus on another kind of change, spiritual change.  This is different from political change, although sometimes spiritual change leads to political change.

Today’s Gospel is the story of Jesus’ baptism by John in the Jordan River.  Now the baptism of John was clearly a call for change.  Mark, the writer of the Gospel, says it was a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  What he means by this is that people were being called to repent much about the lives they had been living, and to be baptized in the water as an outward sign of that repentance, and from that point forward to lead a new life.  John was clearly saying, It’s time for a change. 

Jesus presents himself to receive the baptism of John.  This has always puzzled people: if John was administering a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, why would Jesus, who was without sin, receive such a baptism?  Indeed, for Jesus, baptism has a somewhat different meaning.  After he is baptized, the Holy Spirit descends like a dove, and a voice from heaven says, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."  In fact, for Jesus, his baptism was more like an ordination.  It was the beginning of his unique ministry – a ministry of preaching, teaching, healing, praying, casting out demons, forgiving sinners, and ultimately offering himself as a sacrifice for the healing of the world.

But the baptism of Jesus had one thing in common with the other baptisms of John.  It signified a time of change.  Jesus’ life changed radically after his baptism, after he began to fulfill the ministry to which he had been called by God.

Jesus directed his followers to teach and baptize.  And so they did.  Baptism is the sacrament by which a person accepts Jesus Christ as his Savior and Lord, and promises to follow and serve him.  In return, they receive forgiveness of sins, membership in the church, and the promise of everlasting life in the kingdom of God.  So for candidates who have reached the age of reason, who make their baptismal promises on their own, baptism is a time of turning – turning away from the world, the flesh, and the devil, and toward Jesus -- a time of change.  A change the candidates have chosen to make, and a change for which they have hopefully been prepared by teaching and prayer.

Today it is our great pleasure to receive a new person into the flock of Christ.  By being baptized, she will become a member of Christ’s holy church and an heir of the Kingdom.

But this child is an infant.  Her life has hardly begun.  She cannot make the baptismal promises on her own; her sponsors in baptism will make the promises for her.

What then does change mean, in the context of infant baptism?  Right now, that aspect of baptism doesn’t apply to this child.  She is too young.  But to whom does it apply?

It could apply to just about everyone else here.  It could apply to her parents, her godparents, and to everyone who takes part in this baptism.  Every baptism is an opportunity for all of us look at ourselves and say, have I been living out the promises of my baptism? 

• Have I become entangled with the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God? 
• Have I too readily cooperated with the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy? 
• Have I given in to sinful desires within me that draw me away from the love of God? 
• Have I been faithful in prayer and worship? 
• Have I been an example to others? 
• Have I loved my neighbor as myself? 
• Have I worked for justice and peace among all people?

Those are the questions which every baptism invites us to ask.

We rejoice in the baptism of this child.  We rejoice that there will be one more Christian leaving the service today than there was coming in.  But let us use the opportunity of her baptism to examine how we might be more faithful in keeping our own baptismal promises.

Maybe it’s time for a change!