February 19, 2012

Last Sunday After the Epiphany (B)

Reverend Gregg Wood

When I was serving Zion Church in 2010, the Bible Study Group and I studied the Book of Acts.  We focused on one verse, Acts 1:8, as illuminating the whole message of the Book of Acts and the purpose of the Church after the Day of Pentecost:  “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit is come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”  It is a clear mandate, telling the disciples that they are to proclaim the good news of salvation and eternal life in Christ, starting with their own environs and people they know (Jerusalem and Judea), moving then to strangers and adversaries (Samaria), and finally “to the ends of the earth.”

Do you know what the official, corporate name of our national church is?  It is the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America.  That official title relates directly to the Book of Acts and to our purpose as a church.

The mission of the church is both foreign and domestic. In the most obvious understanding of the phrase “foreign and domestic,” it means there are individuals within our own nation, even our own neighborhoods, who have yet to hear the Good News of Jesus Christ; and there are individuals who live in places outside of those domestic boundaries to whom the mission of the church is extended. Thus the mission of the church is to the whole, wide world.

It can be seen in today’s gospel reading, the telling of the events on the mountain that we know as “the Transfiguration of Christ,” that from a different perspective, the foreign and domestic mission exists not only wherever the gospel has not yet been accepted, but also within ourselves, we who are the church. We often are in need of preaching to ourselves.

But from either perspective, the Transfiguration speaks of God’s power.  The appearance of Jesus in dazzling white garments, the overshadowing cloud, the voice of God, and even the command to wait to tell, all has to do with the power of God released for the sake of the mission to be successful. The power of God.

The beginning and the end of the mission of the church is meant to be conducted in the power of God.

That conclusion is found in today’s gospel reading, and pointed to in another verse from the ninth chapter of Mark that is not included in today’s reading. The first verse of Chapter 9: “Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.”

Indeed the Kingdom of God has come with power. From the work of God in creation, through the prophets as we heard in the story of Elijah and Elisha, to the conception of Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit, through the miracles of Jesus retold in this season after the Epiphany, and now to this moment on the mountain.

This power of God is intended to be revealed to the world, both foreign and domestic, through Jesus in the preaching and proclamation of the church, the Body of Christ.

You see, as both Matthew and Mark record, it is not simply that Jesus “was transfigured,” but that “he was transfigured before them,” the three disciples. It is not simply a display of power; it is for the benefit of the witnesses, to remind them, and us, of the eternal name Emmanuel, “God-with-us.” If God is with us, then so is His power; and that is exactly his intention.

Sometimes, though, is it not difficult to see the power in the church? We all have stories about how the church has faltered in its mission to the world, rather than portrayed the life-changing, transfiguring, transforming power of God.  St. Peter wasn’t the only one who blundered occasionally. 

Take for example, the bloopers in church bulletins, which are often very funny, although sometimes they hit a little too close to home. A bulletin from a Methodist congregation read: “Don’t let worry kill you. Let the church help.”

Another church bulletin, prompting the Prayers of the People, read: “Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our church and community.”

Certainly, there will always be failures within the church, but if the beginning and end of the mission of the church, the Body of Christ, is meant to be conducted in the power of God, then where in the gospel do we find our guidance for doing it properly?

In regard to that Mission, one major failure of the church has always been paying so much attention to ourselves that we neglect the mission of proclamation. It might be because we have decided we have to be polished as Christians before presenting ourselves to the world. But who will ever achieve perfection to prove their worth?  Those first disciples who accompanied Jesus on the mountain -- Peter, James, and John – certainly were not perfect.  Yet God worked through them mightily despite their imperfections.

How can we be bearers of gospel truth when we ourselves continue to be in great need of the healing Love of God?  Placing ourselves into the gospel story, we desperately want to be the recipients of God’s call as His “sons and daughters” whom he loves. And yet there is only One about whom God is speaking at that moment. And through that Son, Jesus, the love of God is revealed to all of us. We can’t set aside Jesus.

We need to know what Mission is. Our guidance here in the Gospel of Mark will be found in Jesus’ instruction to the disciples. As they come down the mountain, their eyes are turned back to what just happened.

What did they see? They saw the power of God revealed in and through Jesus Christ.

And what did they hear? They heard the voice of God saying about the Son of God, “Listen to him.”

Here, then, is the most basic definition of the mission of the church: pointing to Jesus and telling others that the Almighty God has proclaimed who he is; and to do what he says.

This is what a missionary is called to do, just as the three in our readings today were called to be apostles and called to be witnesses on the mountaintop. We pray for missionaries and for their sometimes perilous work in foreign or domestic lands, who also have also seen Jesus and have heard from God the Father. We pray that we all may understand our baptismal duty to point to Jesus and proclaim him as the only Son of God, the Lord and Savior.  

**I am indebted to the Rev. John Eaton of the Episcopal Church of Tulare, California, and a sermon of his on the Episcopal Church’s website, for some of the thoughts in today’s sermon.**

February 12, 2012

Sermon for Epiphany 6, Year B

                                       Reverend Gregg Wood

The first lesson for today is a story about a healing. Naaman, who is the successful commander of the Army of the king of Aram, is afflicted with leprosy. Now we are not sure if this was the very serious disease we know today as leprosy proper, or Hansen’s disease; it may have been a less serious skin disease such as psoriasis or dermatitis. But whatever it was, it troubled Naaman. Now Naaman's wife had a slave girl who had been captured in one of the raids on Israel. This slave girl spoke of the prophet Elisha, and suggested that this great prophet of Israel would be able to cure Naaman's affliction. So Naaman’s wife tells him what the Israelite slave girl said, and he likes the idea so much that he suggests that the king of Aram give him permission to go peacefully into Israel to seek the cure. The king agrees, so Naaman sets out with a lot of money and goods and a letter from the king of Aram requesting that the King of Israel grant Naaman safe passage.

When the King of Israel learns that the commander of the armies of the king of Aram is coming into his country, he fears the worst, probably that he is about to be invaded, and he tears his garments in distress.   But the prophet Elisha sends word to the King, reassuring him and asking him to allow Naaman to come to Elisha. Soon Naaman comes to Elisha.  But Elisha does not come out to greet Naaman, and instead sends a messenger instructing Naaman to wash himself seven times in the River Jordan, after which his flesh will be restored to normal.   Naaman is insulted at this treatment. He is offended that the prophet did not come out to greet him, and also that he was instructed to do something so simple and undignified as washing himself in the River Jordan, which was not a great river like the rivers of Damascus.  Also, Naaman no doubt expected that he would have to negotiate a fee for the prophet's services, which is why he brought all that money.  However, one of his servants encourages Naaman to do what the prophet told him to do, since it is such a simple thing. So Naaman does it, he washes himself in the River, and the Bible tells us "his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean."

This story is about expectations. Everyone involved has different expectations. Let us look at those expectations.

First of all, there is the Israelite slave girl. It is she who sets the whole train of events in motion by suggesting that the prophet in Israel would be able to cure Naaman of his skin disease. Since she is a slave, she probably had no expectations that any of this would do her any good. So she seems to be acting out of a pure and generous heart, with the expectation of faith. She expects that her faith in God, and in God's prophet, will bring relief to her master. 

Then there is the king of Israel, who is terrified and tears his garments when he reads the letter from the king of Aram.  He expects the worst. He fears that there is deceit and trickery going on, that will ultimately do harm to him and to his country.  Maybe that's not a bad expectation for a king to have. His job is to defend his country and to keep it secure.   Probably it's not a bad thing for him to be suspicious and even paranoid, especially in dealing with people who have been his enemies in the past.  The problem is that his fear and suspicion could cause him to miss an opportunity to improve relations.  If you're always expecting the worst, you may be blind when something good comes along.  

Then there is Naaman himself. He expects that he will have to negotiate an expensive transaction, which is no doubt why he brought along all that money and treasure. He also expects that this transaction will be accompanied with a certain amount of ceremony and performance, and his dignity is wounded when the prophet Elisha does not even come out to meet him, but instead sends him a simple prescription by the hand of a servant.  What happens to him is so far removed from his expectations that he almost fails to get what he came for, namely a cure for his illness. He expected a complicated transaction; instead he got a rather simple free gift.  The free gift of healing.

Everyone had their normal expectations.  The problem is they did not expect the unexpected.

Sometimes, like Naaman, our expectations can defeat our purposes.  In the village near where I live there is a thrift shop.  The purpose of the thrift shop is to re-cycle second hand goods to people who cannot afford to pay retail prices for these things.  The thrift shop is housed in a church basement; the church donates the space and the utilities.  The shop is operated by volunteers from the church and the community; they donate their time and their skill.  The clothing and household goods that are sold in the shop are donated by people in the community. 

The volunteers spend a lot of their time pricing the goods for sale.  Of course they are priced very low, sometimes as low as a dollar, 50 cents, a quarter.  Everyone expects that people will pay these prices.  But occasionally there is a customer who needs something but cannot afford even these low prices.  What to do?  If you withhold what is needed from such a customer, you will be failing in the main purpose of the shop, which is to get these goods to people who cannot afford them.  So usually the volunteer in charge will make an outright gift to the needy customer.  She does the unexpected.  Sometimes, in order to do the right thing, you have to do the unexpected.  And sometimes, like Naaman, the customer will try to refuse the unexpected gift.  She, the customer, is bound by her expectation that she must pay for it.

The heroine of this story is the Israelite slave girl.  She had faith.  She believed that if her Master Naaman was able to get together with the prophet Elijah, good things would happen.  She expected the unexpected.  She had faith.  And good things did happen, once everybody managed to get over their normal expectations.

You and I live in a world of normal expectations, as we must.  But let us not lose the capacity to see the hand of God working in unusual ways.  Let us not fail to expect the unexpected.

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.