Anglican Church of the Redeemer
Fr. John A. Roop

A Homily at the Ordination of Jeremy Swaggerty to the Sacred Order of Priests
24 September 2023

(Is 6:1-8, Ps 119:33-40, Eph 4:7-16, Luke 10:1-9)

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

11 And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, 12 to equip the saints for the work of building up the body of Christ (Eph 4:11-12, ESV).

Bishop Frank, Fr. Phil and fellow clergy, brothers and sisters in Christ at Anglican Church of the Redeemer: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

When we read the New Testament Epistles, we are reading someone else’s mail. The letters were addressed to the first century recipients, but, by God’s grace they are also for us in the twenty-first century. I trust you won’t mind if I follow that same biblical pattern in this sermon: it is addressed to Jeremy, but, by God’s grace, I hope it will also have some meaning for everyone gathered here.

Jeremy, as we approach the profoundly significant and life-changing moment of your ordination to the priesthood in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church of our Lord Jesus Christ, there is an important question hanging in the air, a question on the minds of many here, a question that simply must be asked before we can move forward: Do you have any new, cute pictures of Jack?

Here’s the truth; you may struggle against it, but in your bones you know it’s true. You have had your moment. You have had a brief window of time in which to be Jeremy Swaggerty. But now? Now, you are Jack’s father. That’s your new identity, and what a remarkable and gracious thing that is.

I speak now perhaps more poetically than theologically, though in the best of moments the two are indistinguishable. Fatherhood leaves an indelible mark on a man’s character, or, perhaps, it confers a new and indelible character upon him. I am certain the same is true for motherhood — perhaps even more so — but I dare not presume to speak for mothers. From the moment his baby is first placed in a man’s arms — and probably seven or eight months prior — he receives a new identity; regardless of what he was before, he is now a father. His life must be oriented differently. His priorities must change. His responsibilities must deepen. As John the Baptist was to Jesus, so must a father be to his child: the father must decrease and the child must increase. There is a choice, of course; a man may be either faithful or unfaithful to this new character, but he may not escape from it. He is a father.

You have just begun the journey of fatherhood; I am nearly twenty-nine years along the way. The nature of fatherhood changes with time — I am needed in a different way now than at first, and I am a different kind of father now than before — but the sheer fact of it never changes; once a father, always a father. “Father” is not just what you do, though there is certainly much to do; “father” is who you are.

In just a few moments — God willing, the people consenting, and Bishop Frank presiding — you will be ordained to the priesthood.

Ordination is the laying on of the bishop’s hands with prayer, which confirms the gifts and calling of the [candidate], consecrates [him], and grants [him] authority to serve Christ and his Church in the office to which [he has] been called.

In ordination, God conveys the gift of the Holy Spirit for the office and work of the order being conferred (Anglican Church In North America (ACNA), To Be A Christian, Crossway (2020), p. 60).

In this sacrament of holy orders you are, once again, about to become a father, a spiritual father to a people that God is placing in your care. Whether they call you father or just Jeremy is no more important than whether Jack calls you pop, papa, dad, or something else entirely. You will become father through the grace of the Holy Spirit received in this sacramental rite. This consecration will leave an indelible mark on your character, or, perhaps, will confer a new and indelible character upon you from the moment the bishop lays hands upon you and prays:

Receive the Holy Spirit for the office and work of a Priest in the Church of God, now committed to you by the imposition of our hands (BCP 2019, p. 493).

Regardless of what you were before, you will thereafter be a priest, a spiritual father. Your life must be oriented differently. Your priorities must change. Your responsibilities must deepen. You have a choice, of course; you may be either faithful, or, God forbid, unfaithful to this new character, but you may not escape from it. You are, from that moment, a priest, a spiritual father. Priest is not just what you do, though there is much to do. Priest is who you are: priest, spiritual father.

Have you noticed how many things come with warning labels and instruction manuals today? A cup of coffee at McDonald’s comes with the warning emblazoned on the styrofoam: Caution! The beverage you are about to enjoy is extremely hot. And the furniture you ordered online thinking it would be shipped assembled? No such luck: build-it-yourself, some assembly required. But you do get a thirty page instruction manual written in one language, translated into a second language by someone who speaks English only as a third. At least there are some badly photocopied diagrams with part numbers and letters visible only with an electron microscope. So, I ask you: where are the warning labels on a baby, the instruction manuals for fatherhood? Is a baby not as important as a cup of coffee or as complex as an IKEA bookcase? One morning, a nurse hands you this small, fragile, living human being who is little more than a bundle of needs, wheels the mother to the curb in a wheelchair, and sends you off on your own to figure it out as you go. So begins biological fatherhood: no instruction manual.

Thanks be to God — and I mean that — thanks be to God there is an instruction manual for spiritual fatherhood, an instruction manual for the priesthood — and not one only, but several.

First, we have the witness of the whole of Scripture: from the Patriarchs (the fathers) to Moses, to Joshua and the Judges, to the Kings and the Prophets — all fathers of God’s people, sometimes faithful and sometimes faithless, but examples all. In the Gospels we encounter Jesus who said:

John 14:9–11 (ESV): Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? 10 Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own authority, but the Father who dwells in me does his works. 11 Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me.

In the Epistles we see hands-on spiritual fatherhood as Paul and Peter and James and Jude and John grapple with the problems of their spiritual children gathered in household churches scattered throughout the Mediterranean: sometimes praising, sometimes rebuking, often instructing, always praying — spiritual fathers pouring out their very lives for their spiritual children. Especially, there are the Pastoral Epistles in which the aging spiritual father Paul passes on his wisdom and experience to his protégés, to the next generation of spiritual fathers in the persons of Timothy and Titus. Do you want to be a good priest, a faithful spiritual father? Of course you do. Then delve deeply into Scripture; make it your instruction manual.

There is also the great Tradition of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church passed on to us in faith and practice, in the example of saints and martyrs, in holy writings and rules. Look to the Church Fathers, East and West; look to the Desert Fathers and Mothers; look to the great theologians, bishops, and abbots — Augustine, Chrysostom, Basil, Gregory, Benedict.

Jeremiah 6:16 (ESV): 16 Thus says the Lord:
“Stand by the roads, and look,
and ask for the ancient paths,
where the good way is; and walk in it,
and find rest for your souls.

Look to more modern teachers, writers, thinkers, contemplatives, activists, and saints also — Ignatius of Loyola, Mother Teresa, C. S. Lewis, Henri Nouwen. And do not forget that we, too, are a living part of the great Tradition, a link in the chain of faith and practice received from the Apostles and passed down the generations to us, to this generation. The great Tradition lives all around you in this parish, in this diocese, in this province, in this communion. Look to the godly bishops, priests, deacons, and spiritual fathers and mothers among us. Seek them out. Mine and mind their wisdom. Follow their examples. Do you want to be a good priest, a faithful spiritual father? Of course you do. Then immerse yourself in the great Tradition; make it your instruction manual.

And, we must not neglect our own Anglican formularies; we cannot pass over The Book of Common Prayer and especially the Ordinal, The Form and Manner of Ordaining a Priest. I suspect you have read this rite many times, meditating on it and praying with it and through it. No matter: it bears repeating.

What does it mean to be an Anglican priest, a spiritual father in our tradition? It means “to be a messenger, watchman, and steward of the Lord” (BCP 2019, p. 489). There is a common theme here. A messenger proclaims not his own word but the word of the one who sent him. A watchman attends not to his own welfare, but to the welfare of those entrusted to his care. A steward tends not his own treasure, but the treasure of his master. As a priest and spiritual father, you are “to provide for the Lord’s family, and to seek for Christ’s sheep who are in the midst of this fallen world” (ibid). The vocation of priest and spiritual father is to you, but it is always from God and for the sake of his people.

What does it mean to be an Anglican priest, a spiritual father in our tradition? It means to “work diligently, with your whole heart, to bring those in your care [the children of God] into the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of God, and to maturity in Christ, that there may be among you neither error in religion nor immorality in life” (ibid). There is a trope in film and television, tired but too often true, of the man-child, the boy who will not grow up, the thirty-five year old teenager. We’ve all seen it in “real life,” haven’t we: the immature adult who acts like a spoiled, petulant child? And, whether we say it or not, we most often blame the parents, who infantilized their child and did not allow or demand the child to mature. God forbid that such a thing should be said of any priest or spiritual father, that he is guilty of infantilizing God’s people. No: a priest is to work diligently, with his whole heart to bring God’s people to maturity:

Ephesians 4:12–14 (ESV): 12 to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, 13 until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, 14 so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes.

This equipping, this encouraging and challenging people to grow, this refusal to do on behalf of others what they should do themselves is not always easy or pleasant. It requires commitment and diligence. The Ordinal exhorts you to:

give your faithful diligence always to minister the doctrine, sacraments, and discipline of Christ, as the Lord has commanded and as this Church has received them, according to the Commandments of God, so that you may teach the people committed to your charge with all diligence to keep and observe them (BCP 2019, p. 490).

These things are the day in and day out work of the priest, and they require an “ordinary,” daily diligence. But, from time to time, more serious matters arise, matters which require “extraordinary” diligence, when as priest and spiritual father you must:

be ready, with all faithful diligence, to banish and drive away from the Body of Christ all erroneous and strange doctrines contrary to God’s Word; and to use both public and private admonitions and exhortations, to the weak as well as the strong within your charge (ibid, p. 491).

This is the difficult and painful priestly work of correction. It must be done impartially, to the weak as well as to the strong, to the founding member as well as to the newcomer, to the influential and to the “nobody,” to the big donor and to the one who receives from the benevolence fund. It must be done privately, if possible, and publicly if necessary. It must be done — with encouragement — to the older man as to a father, to younger men as to brothers, to older women as to mothers, and to younger women as sisters, in all purity (cf 1 Tim 5:1-2). As difficult as it always is, it sometimes must be done by a faithful priest and spiritual father.

In exercising this diligence for the household of God, you must never neglect your own household, but rather:

be diligent to frame and fashion your own life [and the life of your family], according to the doctrine of Christ, and to make yourself [and them, as much as you are able], a wholesome example and a pattern to the flock of Christ (ibid, p. 491).

This is implicit in your marriage vows and is now made explicit in your ordination vows. Look to your family. Do not be so devoted to the bride of Christ that you ignore your own bride. Do not be so concerned with the children of God that you neglect your own child. There are far too many cautionary tales of parents failing their children in Scripture, tales written for our learning, the stories of Samuel and David prominent among them. Right order is essential, not least the right order of your vows: baptismal vow, marriage vow, ordination vow. Be diligent to harmonize these. Do you want to be a good priest, a faithful spiritual father? Of course you do. Then immerse yourself in all these aspects of our own Anglican tradition; make it your instruction manual.

I want to highlight one last bit of instruction in the Ordinal. It comes with a personal admission. Whenever I place the stole — the symbol of priesthood — around my neck and across my shoulders, I do so with these words of Jesus on my lips and in my heart:

Matthew 11:28–30 (ESV): 28 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

There are days — and here is the admission — when these words sound like sarcasm, when I find no rest for my soul, when the yoke is hard and chafing, when the burden is anything but light, days when the will and the ability both seem absent. There are not many such days and they do not come often, but when they come, this instruction from the Ordinal is crucial. It is not an instruction on what you are to do or on how you are to fulfill your vows. Rather it is a stark reminder that you cannot, under your own power, do so:

Know, however, that you cannot accomplish this of yourself; for the will and the ability needed are given by God alone. Therefore, pray earnestly for his Holy Spirit to enlighten your mind and strengthen your resolve (ibid, p. 489).

On those difficult days when the stole seems hard and burdensome, my prayer, perhaps all I can muster in the moment is this:

Come, Holy Spirit. Purify my heart, enlighten my mind, strengthen my resolve, and glorify Christ in me.

I have always found that prayer to be enough and more than enough. I have always found God to be faithful in steeling my weak human will, in stirring up the gifts given me through the laying on of my bishop’s hands, in strengthening my resolve once again for the work he has given me to do in that moment. Depend on this prayer or one like it. Find a few faithful parishioners who will pray it with you and for you. Do you want to be a good priest, a faithful spiritual father? Of course you do. Then recognize your own insufficiency and the boundless grace and power of the One who has called you to this good work and who will faithfully bring it to completion through the grace of the Holy Spirit.

Now, I would like to speak directly both to you Jeremy and to all the saints at Redeemer for a moment. The priestly vocation, spiritual fatherhood, is a gift. It is God’s gift to you Jeremy, for it is the means God has chosen to transform you into the image of Christ; it is the way God has chosen for you to work out your salvation with fear and trembling. It is the way that you are called to take up the cross and follow Jesus. But, it is also a gift to the church, to the local church here on McBrien Road in Chattanooga and to the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church of our Lord Jesus Christ. Church, treasure this gift, and, in the words of the author of Hebrews:

Hebrews 13:17 (ESV): 17 Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you.

And, for both Jeremy and the saints at Redeemer, I close with this prayer and blessing from Hebrews:

Hebrews 13:20–21 (ESV): 20 Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, 21 equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.