[A group of fellow Anglican priests asked me to offer a few pre-lenten observations on fasting. Following is the text of the brief presentation I made.]
I don’t think that Scripture contains an explicit theology of fasting. Instead, in both the Old and New Testaments, we see multiple examples of God’s people, and even pagans, actually fasting in a variety of circumstances and for a variety of reasons, and we are left to construct a theology inductively: from example to principle, from practice to theory. And it may be that it isn’t necessary or even possible to form a detailed theology of fasting; it may be enough to say that the example of Scripture — and the Church — tells us to fast under these circumstances, that it is somehow instinctive to man and pleasing to God. So, I thought to do a quick and partial survey of some examples of fasting in Scripture to see what we might glean.
It might, at first, seem like a stretch to say that the first example of fasting occurs in Eden, but I think the point can be made. God fills the garden with plants and trees from which man can freely eat. But, without explanation, God plants one tree — and points it out — from which man must not eat. It is this tree alone that creates the first fasting rule: total abstinence. The rule isn’t arbitrary: the tree is toxic to obedience, to relationship, and to life of man and to the state of the world. That it was a fast, and a difficult one, is seen from Genesis 3:6:
Genesis 3:6 (ESV):
6 So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate.
I don’t much care for steak, until all the Fridays in Lent, when I see that a steak is good for food, and a delight to the eyes (and nose), and to be desired to satisfy one’s stomach. I know how Eve felt. So, Adam and Eve broke the fasting rule with disastrous consequences. This is an example of perpetual, total abstinence because that which seems good and delightful to us is, instead, toxic. Since we don’t keep Kosher, food doesn’t fall into this category for us. But some forms of sexuality at all times and all forms of sexuality at some times do. Substance abuse does. Idolatry, too, and a whole list of practices that might momentarily delight us and ultimately destroy us. What God has forbidden we must fast from. There are other examples of perpetual fasts in Scripture. I’m thinking here of a perpetual Nazirite vow: a total abstinence from grapes, wine, and raisins. This fast was for setting oneself apart to God for some special purpose.
There are fasts in Scripture that seem almost instinctive. A person in deep sorrow simply has no appetite. That natural instinct may then be ritualized: fasting as a sign of mourning. So, upon learning of the lengthy exile of his people, for example, Daniel forgoes delicacies, meat, and wine to denote his mourning (Dan 10:1-3). People convicted of sin and compelled to repentance may be so focused on things spiritual, that things material — like eating — are pushed aside. Think here — among many other examples — of Nineveh upon hearing Jonah’s message of destruction (Jonah 3:6-10). From greatest to least, from man to beast, everyone fasted as a sign of repentance, fasted in sackcloth. And there is fasting as sacrifice, as an offering to God that we hope will make him propitious towards us. David fasted and prayed for God to have mercy on and spare his firstborn son from Bathsheba. That fast did not avail, and David abandoned it upon learning of the child’s death. These kinds of fasts — in times of sorrow, repentance, and intercession — seem to me to be instinctive. We somehow intuit that they are appropriate and then they become ritualized so that in such times we resort to them even if we might no longer be driven by instinct to do so.
Neither Jesus nor his disciples were known for fasting during the years of his ministry — in fact, to the contrary — but we do know of one instance in which he did fast. He fasted for forty days either before or during his time of temptation; the language is a bit ambiguous on the timing. This is an interesting episode that raises a fundamental question: Did Jesus fast to make himself weak and vulnerable or to make himself strong and fortified? I think the answer is yes to both. Certainly, forty days of fasting weakens the body and slows the mind, which may well be exactly what is needed in a moment of spiritual conflict. In a weakened state, I can no longer trust my own resources to save me; I must depend solely on the strength that comes from God. As St. Paul says, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” I know, from experience, that when I am facing a significant spiritual challenge, I should do so with fasting and prayer.
In at least two instances in the New Testament, fasting is associated with worship and discernment. Following his blinding outside Damascus and before the arrival of Ananias, Saul fasted from both food and water for three days (Acts 9:9). Certainly that was a period of profound discernment: What did the vision mean? What does his life look like going forward? What is he to do next? How will he — blinded as he is — fulfill any commission that the Lord Jesus gave him? This fasting, too, was almost certainly wrapped up with mourning and repentance and sacrifice. Then later, when Saul was in Antioch, the leaders there were fasting and praying — worshipping and seeking God’s will — when the Spirit set aside Barnabas and Saul for their first evangelistic mission (Acts 13:2): fasting for worship and discernment.
My sense of things — and that’s all it is, my sense of things — is that fasting is a God-given “instinct” in all these and other circumstances that we have ritualized, much like prayer for Anglicans — a natural instinct ritualized in the BCP and in a rule of life. And that brings me to the final “type” of fasting I want to mention.
First, there is “rule of life” fasting: regular fasting undertaken as a spiritual discipline, like following the fasting rubrics in the BCP or like the fasting you may have undertaken in your rule of life. This is probably not instinctive, but rather is ritualized and regulated. What is the value of that? Well, there is the possibility that it is of little use at all. It can become like spiritual background noise that is just there but that hardly rises to the level of our attention; it is just something we do because our rule calls for it. It may not even be so stringent as to be noticeable. And, it is not for any particular purpose like mourning or repentance or discernment. But, if this regular fasting pinches a bit, it can remind us that we do need to mourn for the state of the world and the state of our souls — always; that we must be engaged in ongoing repentance for the sake of our salvation; that we are always engaged in spiritual combat beyond our own strength; and that we always need discernment to see as God sees.
Let me give an example of how this might work. You are probably familiar with the prayer of confession in the Daily Office in the BCPs 1662 and 1928. I will quote just the pertinent part:
ALMIGHTY and most merciful Father; We have erred, and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against thy holy laws. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; And we have done those things which we ought not to have done; And there is no health in us. But thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable offenders (BCP 1928).
You get the phrase that was, lamentably, excised from the BCP 2019: miserable offenders. “Miserable” has nothing to do with how we feel when we pray the confession, but rather with our true state as we pray it. Here is an analogy that I read somewhere. Imagine a man in a train speeding along the track. He is having a perfectly pleasant experience, perhaps enjoying a good meal and conversation in the dining car. He feels anything but miserable. And yet, unbeknownst to him, there is another train on the same track barreling toward him in the opposite direction with another passenger also having a pleasant experience. Despite their feelings, they are both miserable, i.e., they are both in a pitiable and desperate state. What they need is something to alert them — and the two engineers! — to the truth. That’s what the words in the confession do and why their absence is damaging; they alert us to our true state, even if said routinely. And that is just what fasting as a spiritual discipline can do. It can alert us to the fact that we are miserable: that we need to mourn, that we need to repent, that we must not depend on our own strength in spiritual combat, that we need wisdom and discernment from above. The act of fasting as a discipline can actually awaken us to the fact that we need the fast more than we might have thought, for all the different reasons we see in Scripture.
Fasting with the Church: A Lenten Spiritual Discipline
As Lent approaches, a word about fasting seems appropriate: not the “why” of fasting, but rather the “how” of it. In particular, I want to offer — not I, but the Church — a specific, common fasting rule for Anglican, and specifically ACNA, parishes. It is but a proposal; I have neither power nor desire to mandate.
In his writing and teaching, Martin Thornton (1915-1986), Anglican priest, spiritual director, ascetical theologian, and author, suggested a threefold regula — a spiritual rule of life consisting of three practices — for all Anglicans seeking to engage seriously in their spiritual formation. The regula consists of (1) the Daily Office of Morning and Evening Prayer, (2) the weekly participation in the Eucharist, and (3) the regular engagement with personal piety/devotions. The first two of these practices, Daily Office and Eucharist, are by nature communal; they are done with the Church. That is clear in the case of the Eucharist; the Church gathers for it as the central act of worship on the Lord’s Day. But, it is equally true, if not equally apparent, for the Daily Office. Even if offered privately, the Daily Office is the prayer of the whole Church and it is prayed in spiritual communion with all those around the world who offer it daily. Further, both of these practices — by virtue of being communal — are structured and governed by specified rubrics (instructions). The Daily Office is not free-form, extemporaneous prayer. It is liturgical, fixed prayer that uses appointed prayers and scripture lessons for each day of the year. Because we do it together, we must also do it the same way. The same is true of the Eucharist, of course. We do not make it up as we go; it is the ancient sacrifice of the Church which we have received, which we enter into faithfully, and which we will, please God, pass on to our children whole and intact.
The third of Thornton’s practices, personal piety/devotions, is not communal and is not governed by common rubrics. Rather, the Lord draws each of us, individually, to spiritual practices that nourish us. Perhaps we are drawn to them also by the spiritual gifts we have received, by the vocation(s) we have been called to, by the personalities we have acquired through both nature and nurture. Some pray the Jesus Prayer while others pray in tongues. Some delve deeply into the study of Scripture and some read it in a more reflective and contemplative manner. Some chant the Psalms and canticles and some sing hymns or praise choruses. These disciplines are done privately. They are between the individual and the Lord. For Anglicans, they are supplemental to the Daily Office and the Eucharist, but never in lieu of these two primary disciplines.
As we approach Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, many Anglicans are considering the question, “What will I give up for Lent this year?” Before answering that, it might be helpful to consider the question and answer in the context of the threefold regula. Is Lenten discipline, especially the discipline of fasting, primarily communal, like the Daily Office and the Eucharist, or is it private like personal piety/devotions? For members of the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA) the Book of Common Prayer 2019, and its predecessor books, provides the answer.
Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, and Good Friday, the day of our Lord’s Crucifixion, are traditionally days of special devotion and total abstinence. Maundy Thursday is observed with rites recalling the Last Supper and betrayal at Gethsemane.
The weekdays of Lent and every Friday of the year (outside the 12 Days of Christmas and the 50 Days of Eastertide) are encouraged as days of fasting. Ember Days and Rogation Days may also be kept in this way.
Fasting, in addition to reduced consumption, normally also includes prayer, self-examination, and acts of mercy (BCP 2019, p. 689).
Given these rubrics for Lenten fasting in the Book of Common Prayer, it seems that fasting is primarily communal, i.e., done with and in the same manner as the whole Church. What would that look like?
First, there would be abstinence — no food at all — on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. If we hold to the biblical pattern of evening and morning constituting one day, that would mean no food from sundown on Shrove Tuesday to sundown on Ash Wednesday and again from sundown on Maundy Thursday to sundown on Good Friday. Of course, with many parishes observing Shrove Tuesday with pancake suppers, some adjustment of these times might be necessary.
Second, there would be reduced consumption of food — one meal only or perhaps two smaller meals (the equivalent of one, normal meal) throughout the day — on every weekday throughout Lent. Notice that fasting on the weekend is not mentioned. It is the custom of the Church that every Sunday throughout the year is a feast day, a celebration of the Resurrection of the Lord, on which fasting is generally inappropriate. It is however a long-standing custom of the Church — required in some expressions of it — to observe a partial, Eucharistic fast on Sundays, i.e., to come to the Eucharist with an empty stomach, so that the Eucharist is the first meal of the day.
Of course, the Church has always recognized that some cannot and some should not fast; the Church is, after all, our loving mother who wants her children to flourish. Those dealing with medical issues that require special dietary restrictions or with special dietary needs should not fast, or should do so only in consultation with a physician. Typically, the elderly (a group to which it seems I now belong) , the very young, and pregnant women and nursing mothers are excused from fasting. For all others, the Church provides a reasonably challenging, but never harsh, rule.
Understand that you may do more than the Church offers, though excess should generally be avoided (see Article XIV. OF WORKS OF SUPEREROGATION, BCP 2019, p. 777). You might choose to forego chocolate (or all sweets), or coffee, or alcohol for example. Certainly the Orthodox Christians have a much more rigorous fasting discipline — essentially vegan fare — than do Anglicans. Obedience is given to one’s own tradition and not necessarily to another’s. These choices would fall under the category of personal piety/devotion, something that God might be calling you to do, in obedience to him and for your personal spiritual growth and flourishing: choice, not rubrics. And, always, the specter of pride looms: Look how holy I am, doing more than required, doing more than others. Better no fast at all than a fast that leads to pride.
The Anglican Church does not establish a “law” of fasting. Rather it offers practices common to the Church throughout many generations, practices that have proven helpful for those who embrace them in their spiritual formation. As Orthodox author and speaker Frederica Mathewes-Green writes:
You cannot choose the thing that will change you. The thing that will change you may well look strange from the outside. My advice is to accept the ancient spiritual disciplines as a complete, integrated healing program, rather than picking and choosing to fit. Some kind of wisdom has been worked out in them over the centuries. This net wisdom may well be smarter than you are, because your experience is limited, and also conditioned by your surrounding culture. Though you think you know yourself and your needs better than anyone, you likely have blind spots; we all do (Frederica Mathewes-Green, The Jesus Prayer: The Ancient Desert Prayer that Tunes the Heart to God, Paraclete Press (2009), p. 89).
The Daily Office, both Morning and Evening Prayer, contains a prayer of St. John Chrysostom which says, in part:
and you have promised through your well-beloved Son that when two or three are gathered together in his Name you will grant their requests (BCP 2019, p. 52).
Why precisely numbers matter — two or three gathered together — I cannot say with certainty. But, we have it from our Lord and confirmed by St. John Chrysostom, that praying with others, praying with the Church, does indeed matter. In that same spirit, fasting with the Church matters (see Acts 13:1-3). And so, at the beginning of Lent, in the service for Ash Wednesday, the Officiant says:
I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent: by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and alms-giving; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word (BCP 2019, p. 544).
Perhaps we can understand the invitation “in the name of the Church” to be an invitation to Lenten disciplines done “with the Church” as well.
Priesthood of the Laity: The Sevenfold Gifts of the Spirit
The Lord be with you. And with your spirit.
Today, I would like to begin our time together with a sung prayer, thought to be from the ninth-century, written by a German monk, archbishop and saint, Rabanus Maurus. The version we will sing was translated and edited by English Bishop John Cosin in 1625; it is found in the BCP 1662 and subsequent editions, including our own BCP 2019. There is a classic Gregorian chant tune for the text (https://youtu.be/QdPyzrWb3so?si=S0ZGUEAp2DpyYOEf), but we will use the simpler Psalm Tone that we have been using throughout Epiphanytide.
VENI, CREATOR SPIRITUS
Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, And lighten with celestial fire. Thou the anointing Spirit art, Who dost thy sevenfold gifts impart.
Thy blesséd unction from above Is comfort, life, and fire of love. Enable with perpetual light The dullness of our blinded sight.
Anoint and cheer our soiléd face With the abundance of thy grace. Keep far our foes, give peace at home; Where thou art guide, no ill can come.
Teach us to know the Father, Son, And thee, of both, to be but One; That, through the ages all along, This may be our endless song:
Praise to thy eternal merit, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (BCP 2019, p. 492).
Decades ago I had a friend who was convinced that God had called him to the music ministry, to direct congregational and choral musical worship. There was only one major problem; my friend could not sing — at all. He could not hold a tune. Nor did he play either organ or piano; he did play trumpet tolerably well, but that instrument, while lovely, is not typically used for leading choral music. Mind, I could not say then, nor would I say now, with certainty that my friend had mistaken his own love for the church’s music as a call from God to direct it; I am suspicious but not certain. But, I can say that there was an obvious disconnect between his skills and gifts and the typical qualifications for the job, enough of a mismatch to suggest that further vocational discernment was necessary.
It is generally understood that professions, occupations, jobs have certain requirements — knowledge, skills, and attributes — necessary for success. For example, my mother was a personnel officer at the Tennessee Valley Authority in the 1950s through the 1970s. Her job required proficiency in typing, shorthand, filing, fingerprinting, written communication, and inter-personal relations. [A teacher — I know this from personal experience — must have mastered subject matter content, the pedagogical skills of lesson preparation and delivery, rhetorical and questioning skills, and the theory of test design and analysis. In addition, a teacher must like children, must be good at interacting with them, must be tolerant of parents, and must have very thick skin.] Pick any vocation you wish and you will find a whole congeries of knowledge, skills, and attributes required for success in it. A whole industry exists to match applicant skills, knowledge, and attributes with the needs of business and industry. That used to be handled in the Help Wanted ads in the newspapers; now it is linkedin and other online services.
It is no different when we consider Christian vocations. Let me offer one example in particular: the office of bishop (επισκοπος, overseer) as St. Paul presents it in 1 Tim 3:1-7. The ESV even provides a section heading: Qualifications for Overseers.
1 Timothy 3:1–7 (ESV): 3 The saying is trustworthy: If anyone aspires to the office of overseer, he desires a noble task. 2 Therefore an overseer must be above reproach, the husband of one wife, sober-minded, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, 3 not a drunkard, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. 4 He must manage his own household well, with all dignity keeping his children submissive, 5 for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God’s church? 6 He must not be a recent convert, or he may become puffed up with conceit and fall into the condemnation of the devil. 7 Moreover, he must be well thought of by outsiders, so that he may not fall into disgrace, into a snare of the devil.
Let’s start here: the episcopacy is a noble task to which one aspires. To aspire is to recognize one’s own insufficiency, to know that the task is above and beyond one’s own ability. You must strive to reach it, work to grow into it, and achieve it, if at all, only with God being your helper. That being said, there are some markers that the aspiration is appropriate, that one is up to the task. There are some skills and attributes that must one have in proper measure to be entrusted with the office. Let’s look again at 1 Timothy 3:1-7 and list the skills and attributes an aspirant to the episcopate must have.
ATTRIBUTES
Irreproachable
Sober (not flippant, but properly serious about serious matters)
Self-controlled (disciplined, not rash or head-strong)
Respectable and respected by outsiders
Hospitable
Free from the passions: gluttony (alcohol), anger (violence), avarice, lust, pride
SKILLS
Teaching
Management
These are not arbitrary requirements; they are the skills and attributes necessary to exercise the spiritual vocation of bishop. If any of these attributes is missing, it represents a weakness in the foundation of the ministry, a chink in the armor that the enemy would exploit. St. Paul gives a corresponding list of qualifications for deacons in the verses immediately following, if you are interested.
How does one acquire these attributes and skills? Askesis — spiritual discipline, spiritual training — is part of the answer: through prayer and fasting, through study and worship, through obedience and repentance and service — in other words, through full participation in the life of the church and in the ongoing struggle of repentance. As essential as askesis is, though, it is not the whole answer. A bishop is not just trained and developed from below; he must be made from above: empowered by the Holy Spirit, imbued with spiritual gifts. In the Rite of Consecration of the Bishop, the Archbishop and two other Bishops lay their hands on the head of the Bishop Elect and say:
Receive the Holy Spirit for the Office and work of a Bishop in the Church of God, now committed to you by the imposition of our hands; in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
There must be a particular anointing of the Holy Spirit for the particular vocation of Bishop.
Then the Archbishop continues with this prayer:
Most merciful Father, send down upon this your servant your heavenly blessing; so endue him with your Holy Spirit that, in preaching your Word, he may not only be earnest to reprove, beseech, and rebuke, with all love and godly doctrine, but may also present a wholesome example in word and conduct, in love and faith, in chastity and purity; that, having faithfully run his course, at the last Day he may receive the crown of righteousness, laid up by the Lord Jesus, our righteous Judge, who lives and reigns with you and the same Holy Spirit, one God, world with end. Amen (BCP 2019, pp. 506-507).
This prayer harkens back, at least implicitly, to the qualifications enumerated by St. Paul in 1 Timothy. Some may be acquired by askesis, but they are all nurtured and brought to fruition and maturity by the Holy Spirit. They are, in that sense, spiritual gifts.
The episcopacy is just one particular vocation amongst many in the Church. In 1 Corinthians (12:4-11), St. Paul says that the Holy Spirit gives to each member of the Body of Christ particular spiritual gifts for the unique ministry to which that person is called, and that all of the gifts are for the common good.
1 Corinthians 12:4–11 (ESV): 4 Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; 5 and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; 6 and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. 7 To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. 8 For to one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, 9 to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, 10 to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the ability to distinguish between spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. 11 All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills.
There is no reason to believe that this list of ministries and spiritual gifts is exhaustive. I feel sure, for example, that there are gifts of beauty that enable some to make music and art, to arrange flowers, to sow vestments; gifts of holy boldness that make some able to speak against moral injustice in the culture; gifts of nurture and formation which allow some to minister to children; and so on. I have a gift or two — as do each of you — but I do not have all of them. And, the gifting I have received is a signpost pointing toward the particular ministry to which I am called; the gifts equip me for that ministry. Particular ministries require particular gifts.
So much for particular ministries. But what about the common ministry shared by every baptized believer — the ministry that flows from our baptismal identity? Over the past few weeks, Fr. Jack has made the case that all humans, all image-bearers of God, were intended to share a common priesthood inherent in the human identity. That means that we were to share a common vocation of priesthood. You may recall Fr. Jack’s definition of a priest:
A priest is a mediator who serves in a temple, guards holy things, and offers sacrifices to God.
Question: If this is our common vocation that flows from our identity, what skills, what attributes and spiritual gifts are required to exercise that vocation well? What qualifications must one bring to this vocation of our common priesthood? [Discuss in groups.]
I want to explore that question from a biblical standpoint, starting with a very brief history of the priesthood, a Cliff Notes summary of what Fr. Jack has done over the past few weeks.
Adam and Eve were the priests of creation: of Eden, of the lands beyond the Garden, of all the world. But, they forfeited that priesthood — not just for themselves, but also for their descendants — when they failed to serve (to be obedient) in the temple of Eden, when they failed to guard holy things (themselves and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil), and when they refused to offer the sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving to God.
But, God still intended to have human priests. So, God called Abram and through him created a people who would be holy unto God, separated from other peoples to learn to be priests for them, on behalf of the world. Through generations, God formed this people into a nation, Israel, in which the common priesthood was to flourish, exercised primarily in tribes and families by patriarchs. One of those tribes — Levi — was chosen by God to exercise not just the common priesthood, but also the vocational priesthood dedicated to sacrifice and tabernacle/temple worship. And so God created a nation of priests and within it a tribe of vocational priests, to resume the work of Adam and Eve.
But, you know the rest of the story: the faithlessness of Israel at Sinai, the death of that generation in the wilderness, the conquering and division of the land, the inconsistency of the priesthood — both common and vocational — during the period of the Judges, the short-lived united kingdom, the apostasy/idolatry of Israel and the Assyrian captivity which destroyed Israel, the slower but certain decline of Judah and the end of the Davidic house along with the destruction of the Temple and the priesthood.
So, once again, as in Eden, the priesthood lies shattered. Still, God will have his way, which means that God will have his priests. But before God has priests, he will first have a Priest, a great High Priest from whom the common priesthood of God’s people derives its nature, through whom it receives the spiritual gifts necessary for that priesthood. In other words, the common priesthood narrows down to one High Priest — Jesus — and then opens outward again to all those who will be baptized into him. That means that the skills, attributes, and spiritual gifts we need to exercise our common, baptismal priesthood are those that find their fullness and their perfection in Jesus. So, what qualifications must one have for this vocation of our common priesthood? We find the answer in Isaiah, in a Messianic passage.
Isaiah 11:1–10 (LES2): 11 And a rod will emerge from the root of Jesse, and a flower will come up from the root. 2 And God’s spirit will rest on him, a spirit of wisdom and intelligence, a spirit of counsel and strength, a spirit of knowledge and piety. 3 He will fill him with a spirit of the fear of God; he will not judge according to reputation or reprove according to speech. 4 Rather, he will render fair judgment to a low one, and he will reprove the low of the land; and he will strike the land with the word of his mouth, and with breath through his lips he will destroy ungodly things. 5 And he will be girded at the waist with righteousness and enclosed with truth at his sides. 6 And a wolf will feed together with a lamb, and a leopard will rest with a kid, and a little calf and a bull and a lion will feed together, and a small young child will lead them. 7 And an ox and a bear will feed together, and they will be together with their young, and a lion will eat straw like an ox. 8 And an infant child will lay its hand on an asp’s hole and on a bed of asps’ offspring. 9 And they shall surely do no wrong, nor will they be able to destroy anyone on my holy mountain because the whole land was filled with knowing the Lord, as much water covers the seas. 10 And in that day there will be the root of Jesse and the one who rises up to rule nations; nations will put their hope in him, and his rest will be honor.
[Note: This text is taken from the Lexham Septuagint, 2nd Revision. The Septuagint is from Greek manuscripts of the Old Testament and not from the Hebrew manuscripts which generally form the basis our English translations. So, if you read this text in the ESV, you will not some few minor differences, one of which impacts this lesson. When the Old Testament is quoted by the authors of the New Testament, it is generally the Septuagint that they quote.]
Let’s look at the beginning of the text and list the spiritual gifts that this root of Jesse will have, gifts which he will share with us as we exercise our common priesthood:
Wisdom
Intelligence
Counsel
Strength
Knowledge
Piety
Fear of the Lord
There are seven of these gifts, the Sevenfold Gifts of the Spirit. Now, I’d like you to look back to the song we chanted at the beginning of this session, particularly at the first verse:
Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, And lighten with celestial fire. Thou the anointing Spirit art, Who dost thy sevenfold gifts impart.
Notice the mention of the Sevenfold Gifts of the Spirit. This song is said or sung at the ordination of a priest and bishop and may be sung at the ordination of a deacon. These are the spiritual gifts required for the vocational ministry. But, it’s more than that. The rubrics for the song say this:
The Veni, Creator Spiritus is sung or said as a prayer for the renewal of the Church (BCP 2019, p. 492).
That means that these gifts are not just for the vocational priesthood, but for the common, baptismal priesthood, not just for priests and bishops, but for the baptismal priesthood of all the laity. That is emphasized again in the Rite of Confirmation when the Bishop prays for each confirmand:
Almighty and everliving God, we beseech you to strengthen these your servants for witness and ministry through the power of your Holy Spirit. Daily increase in them your manifold virtues of grace: the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and true godliness and the spirit of holy fear, now and for ever. Amen (BCP 2019, p. 178).
Notice that we’ve drawn a straight line from the Sevenfold Spiritual Gifts embodied in the Messiah, who is the Great High Priest of Israel and of the world, to those same gifts bestowed upon all those baptized into Jesus and thus called into the common priesthood of all believers, to those same gifts bestowed upon the shepherds of the Church, the priests and bishops. These are the Sevenfold Spiritual Gifts of all Christian priests, lay and clergy.
“Wisdom is both the knowledge of and judgment about “divine things” and the ability to judge and direct human affairs according to divine truth.”
It is this spiritual wisdom that the newly crowned Solomon asks God for in 1 Kings 3:
1 Kings 3:9 (ESV):
9 “Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, that I may discern between good and evil, for who is able to govern this great people.”
Then follows an example of Solomon’s extraordinary wisdom, his ability to discern the right path, and to govern the people with righteous wisdom. We see that also on full display in the Proverbs and in the other Wisdom Literature of the Old Testament.
This is not the same as human wisdom; it is the spiritual gift of recognizing the voice of God, of knowing God and the things of God beyond human reasoning and intellect. Jesus described it this way:
John 10:1–6 (ESV):
10 “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber. 2 But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. 5 A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6 This figure of speech Jesus used with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.
Isaiah writes:
Isaiah 30:21 (ESV):
21 And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.
How will you know that the voice you hear is God’s, that the wisdom is his? St. James tells us:
James 3:13–18 (ESV):
13 Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom. 14 But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. 15 This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. 16 For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice. 17 But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. 18 And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.
“Understanding is penetrating insight into the very heart of things, especially those higher truths that are necessary for our eternal salvation — in effect, the ability to “see” God.”
I might describe understanding as discernment, as the ability to penetrate beyond external appearances to perceive the true spiritual meaning of things, to see the spiritual essence and implications of the ordinary. You see this in Jesus, particularly in some strange conversations he has in the Gospels. Nicodemus comes to discuss one thing, and Jesus cuts across him to say, “You must be born again.” The rich, young, ruler comes to find out how to go on living the good life in this age and in the age to come, and Jesus says, “Go, sell everything you have, give it to the poor, and come, follow me.” Photini, a woman of Samaria, just comes to get water from a well, and Jesus interrupts her day and her life to offer her the living water of the Spirit. And on it goes. Jesus understands. He penetrates to the heart of things, especially as they pertain to eternal salvation. And you have done it too. A friend is beating around the bush in a conversation, avoiding something, and you perceive that something deeper is going on, and you move directly there. That is spiritual understanding: getting to the spiritual heart of the matter.
“Counsel allows a man to be directed by God in matters necessary for his salvation.
Perhaps we can describe it this way: Counsel is keeping the end in mind — the end for which we were created, our salvation — and then determining and taking the right path to get there. A friend faces a major decision with many factors that weigh on it. Counsel is keeping the focus on the eternal import of the decision: what does this decision mean for your friend and for his/her salvation? What is God’s perspective on it? What decision will increase your friend’s faith, hope, and love? How does Scripture and the Church speak to this? All of these are matters of counsel.
“Knowledgeis the ability to judge correctly about matters of faith and right action, so as to never wander from the straight path of justice.”
Contrary to the Reformers’ insistence on the perspicuity of Scripture — the clarity of Scripture to the simplest of minds — Scripture is not self-interpreting. To handle Scripture rightly, to understand matters of faith and right action, requires training and practice and apprenticeship to the Church. It means acquiring the mind and heart of the Church. It requires spiritual knowledge in the sense used here. It is work and gift, something we must train to do, something empowered by the Holy Spirit.
“Piety is, principally, revering God with filial affection, paying worship and duty to God, paying due duty to all men on account of their relationship to God, and honoring the saints and not contradicting Scripture. The Latin word pietas denotes the reverence that we give to our father and to our country; since God is the Father of all, the worship of God is also called piety.”
We see examples of piety in our Eucharistic Prayers.
And we earnestly desire your fatherly goodness mercifully to accept this, our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving; asking you to grant that, by the merits and death of your Son Jesus Christ, and through faith in his Blood, we and your whole Church may obtain forgiveness of our sins, and all other benefits of his passion (Holy Eucharist: Anglican Standard Text, BCP 2019, p. 117).
It is right, our duty and our joy, always and everywhere to give thanks to you, Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth (Holy Eucharist: Renewed Ancient Text, BCP 2019, p. 132).
Piety is a love for God, for the things of God, and for the people of God.
“Fear of God is, in this context, “filial” or chaste fear whereby we revere God and avoid separating ourselves from him — as opposed to “servile” fear, whereby we fear punishment.”
One of the best, prayerful descriptions of fear of God, comes from one of our collects.
80. FOR TRUSTFULNESS IN TIMES OF WORRY AND ANXIETY
Most loving Father, you will us to give thanks for all things, to dread nothing but the loss of you, and to cast all our care on the One who cares for us. Preserve us from faithless fears and worldly anxieties, and grant that no clouds of this mortal life may hide from us the light of that love which is immortal, and which you have manifested unto us in your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen (BCP 2019, p. 670).
Fear of God means dreading nothing but the loss of God, putting aside faithless fears and worldly anxieties that hide from us the light of God’s love.
These are the Sevenfold Gift of the Spirit that ready us for faithful service in our common, baptismal priesthood: wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, piety, and fear of God.
The last matter I’d like to address is how these gifts are used in the exercise of our common priesthood. What are we to do with them? The answer — at least the essence of the answer — is found back where we started, with Isaiah’s description of the Messiah. Read Isaiah 11:1-9 again.
What we have here is a description of the Kingdom of God, sometimes called The Peaceable Kingdom. The Sevenfold Gifts of the Spirit are not given for our personal enjoyment, but rather for the salvation of the world, for creating signposts — here and now — that direct people toward the Kingdom of God. Look at what that means:
Righteous judgment for the poor
Equity for the meek of the earth
Death to the wicked (first, death to the wickedness in us and then prophetic rebuke of the world, the flesh, and the devil)
The offer of peace to all, the healing of enmity between “natural” enemies — perhaps the refusal to have enemies
The proclamation of the Gospel so that the earth will be filled with the knowledge of God
If these are the things that our Great High Priest does, then they are also the essence of the baptismal priesthood we share in through him. They are the things we need to work toward. And, through the Holy Spirit, he gives us the Sevenfold Gifts that we need to be the priests he has called us to be.
Apostles Anglican Church Fr. John A. Roop 19 February 2025
Judge Not That You Be Not Judged (Genesis 49, Psalm 96, Matthew 7)
Note: I make reference to Pope Francis in the following homily in a critical but not disparaging or polemical way. At the time of posting this homily, the Pope is hospitalized with double pneumonia in what is being described by his physicians as a complex case. Before reading further, I would ask you, of your mercy, to offer a prayer for our brother in Christ, Francis, who is also a father in Christ to so many of the faithful. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
There are passages of Scripture that grip you and never seem to let go; you return to them again and again, perhaps as old friends and perhaps as wrestling partners — like Jacob with the angel at the Jabbok River refusing to let go until he received a blessing. These texts inspire and challenge, comfort and afflict, illumine and confuse in about equal measures, but they never disappoint, and they keep you coming back.
Amongst the Epistles, 1 Corinthians is such a text for me. I know that there is greater breadth and depth of theology in Romans, but it doesn’t call to me in the same way. Yes, Ephesians, Philippians, and Colossians have more sustained, exalted Christology, and I love them; but they are not 1 Corinthians. 1 Corinthians is to me a more down-to-earth, boots-on-the-ground text: here’s what it looks like to be a Christian in a pagan world; here’s how to deal with sin and discord in the local church; here’s what it means to celebrate the Eucharist faithfully, to exercise spiritual gifts wisely, to love selflessly as God loves us. This is an Epistle for those who live in, and long to care for and love the local church and the world in a rightly ordered way.
I also have a favorite amongst the Gospels. Mark is wonderful for its sense of urgency. It’s as if St. Mark can’t speak or write fast enough to get everything down as he would like to do: Jesus did this, then he immediately went here and did that, and straightway he traveled there and did something else: always on the move, it seems. You take a deep breath and hang on when reading St. Mark. St. Luke is special for his emphasis on the least and the lost and the forgotten. We see Jesus see them, see them not as the world sees them or refuses to see them, but instead as beloved sons and daughters of the Kingdom of God. And St. John? His prologue is sublime, and Jesus’ dialogues in his Gospel are of more value than much fine gold. But it is not these Gospels that draw me most deeply; I keep coming back again to the Gospel according to St. Matthew, particularly to chapters five through seven, the Sermon on the Mount. If that were all we knew of Jesus — just the contents of that sermon — we would still be forced to account him as one of the most extraordinary men ever to walk the face of the earth, divine or not; we would be compelled to recognize that none ever taught as he taught or lived as he lived. And, if all those who claim to follow him were ever fully to live that sermon? Well, the world would be upended, turned right side up again.
So, today, we come to the final chapter of this text that continues to draw me in: Matthew 7. Approaching the whole chapter at once would be like drinking from a fire hose. So, we will look at one small — but terribly important — piece of it, the first five verses only. They speak of judgment.
Matthew 7:1–5 (ESV):
7 “Judge not, that you be not judged. 2 For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. 3 Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.
Over a decade ago, Pope Francis scandalized many and delighted just as many others by exercising his unparalleled “gift” of theological ambiguity. When asked to comment on reports of homosexuals in the clergy, Pope Francis responded, “If someone is gay and he searches for the Lord and has good will, who am I to judge?” It is not the issue of homosexual clergy that concerns me just now, but rather that the de facto spokesman of Western Christianity would rhetorically — and a bit simplistically — ask, “Who am I to judge?” Well, sir, if you are who your predecessor popes have claimed to be, then you are the Vicar of Christ on Earth; the Keeper of the Keys to the Kingdom of Heaven; the Supreme Bishop over the one holy, catholic and apostolic Church; the sole source of infallible doctrine. Now, I don’t believe that about this or any pope, but if I did, I would expect him to be able to make some judgments about faith and life, about sin and righteousness. If he honestly feels he cannot, then that presents a major problem for the Roman Catholic Church.
Let’s put an even finer point on it. If disciples of Christ are truly and absolutely forbidden to judge, then all prophetic speech and social critique, all church discipline, much pastoral care and spiritual direction, and even evangelism with its call to repentance are precluded. If disciples of Christ are truly and absolutely forbidden to judge, then St. Peter was wrong in his rebuke of Ananias and Sapphira and of Simon Magus, and St. Paul was in error, at best, or in sin, at worst, in his condemnation of Elymas the magician on Cyprus and perhaps even doubly so in his very public rebuke of St. Peter in Antioch. If disciples of Christ are truly and absolutely forbidden to judge, then in my ordination I vowed to sin against the people of God rather than to serve them when I answered “I will, the Lord being my helper,” to this question posed by the Bishop:
Will you 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, as need shall require and occasion shall be given (BCP 2019, p. 491)?
So, whatever Jesus meant by saying “Judge not, that you be not judged,” it must not have been a blanket prohibition on either discerning critique, private correction, or even public censure. Matthew 18:15 and following on church discipline makes that much clear. So, how do we rightly understand Jesus’ teaching on judgment in Matthew 7: judge not that you be not judged?
Let’s begin here: human moral judgment, while necessary, is fraught with spiritual danger. The beginning of the first fall of man, was an act of erroneous human judgment: a judgment that the serpent’s words were to be trusted over God’s word; a judgment that the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good evil would not bring death but rather god-likeness; a judgment that the ability to discern between good and evil was a thing to be desired, a thing proper to human nature in the garden. It did not belong to Adam and Eve to make these judgments. Theirs was simply to obey God. Where God has already judged, there is no room for human judgment, only for obedience. Here, Jesus’ words are fitting and proper: judge not that you be not judged. Adam and Eve did judge, and they were judged. This must be a cautionary tale to all those who would follow Jesus. The question must always be asked reverently and prayerfully: Is God truly calling me to judge in this case, or am I transgressing the prerogatives that belong only to God? The question is not so much can I judge, but rather should I judge. Am I the proper one to judge? Is it safe for my soul to render judgment? Am I called to judge or to obey?
Sometimes judgment is not safe for my soul. Let’s read on in the text.
2 For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.
I remember one time when my father decided to make hot tamales from scratch. He was a wonderful cook, and I think there were only two occasions when he ever read a recipe; one was with the hot tamales. Whether he just made an honest mistake or was so unfamiliar with recipes that he didn’t know the difference in abbreviations I have no idea, but he confused tablespoons and teaspoons when measuring out the powdered red pepper for the tamales and he ended up with three times the amount of spice and heat called for. They were painfully inedible, though he managed somehow to choke them down. With the measure he used, it was measured back to him quite literally. If I am to judge without damaging either my brother’s soul or my own soul, I have to know the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons: a teaspoon of rebuke if absolutely necessary, and a tablespoon of mercy always. We are taught by our Lord in his prayer, that as we forgive, so we will be forgiven. He doubles down on that idea here: as we judge, so shall we be judged. Then let our judgment be seasoned with mercy and measured out for the healing, not for the hurt, of souls.
Let’s take the remainder of the text as one piece.
3 Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.
The key issues here are hypocrisy and discernment. Some people are scrupulous; they see themselves as sinful through and through and have an exaggerated sense of their own worthlessness before God. They probe their every thought and action for hidden sinful motivations and constantly accuse themselves falsely. This is a psychological and spiritual neurosis that must be carefully healed through prayer, spiritual direction, and possibly Christian clinical counseling. But, there is an opposite and I suspect more prevalent problem: those who seemingly never recognize their own sin, those who continually make excuses for why what they did was justified, or why there were extenuating circumstances, or why it wasn’t so bad after all since no real harm was intended. The former group, the ones plagued with scrupulosity, has a speck in the eye and sees it as an oak tree; the latter has a redwood in the eye and sees it as a dust mote. Neither group can judge rightly; both are spiritually blind, but only the latter suffers also from hypocrisy.
This tale is told of one of the greatest Desert Fathers, Moses the Black, a notorious robber and murderer turned monk. He lived his Christian life in the desert monastic community of Scetis. Once physically powerful and violent — think a Samson-like figure who could destroy many attackers with ease — after years of repentance he laid down his life as a martyr by refusing to defend himself against a band of robbers. Early on Moses had lived by the sword; transformed by Christ, he was willing to die by the sword. Here’s the tale.
A brother at Scetis committed a fault. A council was called to which Abba Moses was invited, but he refused to go to it. Then the priest sent someone to say to him, ‘Come, for everyone is waiting for you.’ So he got up and went. He took a leaking jug, filled it with water and carried it with him. The others came out to meet him and said to him, ‘What is this, Father?’ The old man said to them, ‘My sins run out behind me, and I do not see them, and today I am coming to judge the errors of another.’ When they heard that they said no more to the brother but forgave him (https://www.johnsanidopoulos.com/2010/08/wise-lessons-from-saint-moses-ethiopian.html).
Moses was aware of his own past sins, the logs that had been in his eye. By comparison, the fault of his brother was but a speck. Moses was able to judge rightly, with wisdom and discernment, and without hypocrisy.
There is much more to be said about spiritual judgment, but we have at least made a beginning of being faithful to this text.
Judgments must be made, but always against the world, the flesh, and the devil — against sin itself — and not against one’s brother or sister or any image-bearer of God. Those judgments must be made with fear for one’s own soul, with more mercy than severity, with clear eye and heart, and with spiritual integrity.
There is a prayer that I often pray privately before hearing confession. It reminds me of the seriousness of judgment, of dealing with the sins of others, and the necessity of an awareness of and repentance for my own sins.
GRANT me, O Lord, the wisdom that sits at your right hand, that I may judge your people according to the right, and the poor with equity. Grant that I may so wield the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, that I may open it to none to whom it should be shut, nor shut it to any to whom it should be opened. Give purity to my intention, sincerity to my zeal, patience to my charity, and fruit to my labors. Grant that I may be mild, yet not remiss, stern, yet not cruel. Let me neither despise the poor nor flatter the rich. Give me gentleness to draw sinners unto you, prudence in examination, wisdom in instruction. Grant me, I pray, skill to turn men aside from evil, perseverance to confirm them in good, zeal to persuade them to better things: give wisdom to my answers, rightness to my counsels: give me light in darkness, a good understanding in confusion, victory in difficulties. Let no vain conversations entangle me, nor evil defile me: let me save others and not myself be cast away. Amen.
If we must judge, then let it be done in this spirit. Amen.
Holy Baptism, Confirmation, and the ACNA Formularies Fr. John A. Roop Assisting Priest, Apostles Anglican Church Canon Theologian, Anglican Diocese of the South
Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord my Rock and my Redeemer. Amen.
For those about to be Confirmed
O GOD, who through the teaching of thy Son Jesus Christ didst prepare the disciples for the coming of the Comforter; Make ready, we beseech thee, the hearts and minds of thy servants who at this time are seeking to be strengthened by the gift of the Holy Spirit through the laying on of hands, that, drawing near with penitent and faithful hearts, they may evermore be filled with the power of his divine indwelling; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen (BCP 1928, p. 43).
INTRODUCTION
It is a cliché, not least among Anglicans, that confirmation is a sacrament in search of a theology. This statement is doubly problematic for Anglicans. First, Anglicans dispute among themselves whether confirmation is, indeed, a sacrament, though, in keeping with The Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion, none equate it sacramentally with Holy Baptism and Holy Eucharist (Article XXV, BCP 2019, p. 781). It is, if sacramental, a “second order” sacrament of the Church — a means of grace, certainly, though not required for salvation. Second, among Anglicans there seems to be no lack of a theology of confirmation, but rather the presence of multiple, conflicting theologies: if not conflicting, at least multiple ambiguous and confusing theological interpretations. As a parish priest, I face these problems annually as we catechize confirmands in anticipation of the episcopal visit. What can I say about confirmation that would be acceptable to all Anglicans? Likely nothing. Then, what can I say about confirmation that accords with the formularies of the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA), specifically with the Book of Common Prayer 2019 (hereafter BCP 2019) and the ACNA catechism To Be A Christian (hereafter the Catechism)? It is the latter question that this very brief paper addresses. The task and challenge that I have set for myself is clear:
To formulate, if possible, a coherent theology of confirmation based upon the BCP 2019 and the Catechism.
This is a task meet and right for a parish priest in the ACNA, but not for a historian nor for an academic theologian; this work will be of no interest to them. It leaves to one side so much that is both interesting and important: the Church Fathers, the Anglican divines, the back-and-forth theological debates of the formative years of Anglican theology, and the modern work of excellent theologians. It is myopic, focused almost solely on the BCP and the Catechism, the two formularies that govern all those in the ACNA. It is written primarily in service of parish priests, catechists, and confirmands.
BAPTISM
I start with baptism in order to address a fundamental and vexing question regarding the relationship between baptism and confirmation: Is confirmation the necessary completion of baptism?
There are statements in the BCP 2019 and its predecessors (BCP 1662 and BCP 1928) that “muddy the waters” here, that seem to imply that baptism is an incomplete sacrament of initiation which must be completed by confirmation.
The Anglican Church requires a public and personal profession of the Faith from every adult believer in Jesus Christ. Confirmation or Reception by a Bishop is its liturgical expression. Confirmation is clearly grounded in Scripture: the Apostles prayed for, and laid their hands on those who had already been baptized (2 Timothy 1:6-7; Acts 8:14-17; 19:6) (Preface To Confirmation, BCP 2019, p.174).
Why does the Anglican Church require a public and personal profession of the Faith from every adult believer in Jesus Christ? What are the consequences of not making such a profession in Confirmation or Reception? The answers to these questions are not explicit — and not even implicit — in the BCP 2019. But the matter was clear in the predecessor books:
And there shall none be admitted to the Holy Communion, until such time as he be confirmed, or be ready and desirous to be confirmed (BCP 1928, p. 299).
Confirmation was, until the liturgical revisions leading to the publication of the BCP 1979, a requirement for Holy Communion. That implies that Holy Baptism, as a rite of initiation and full inclusion in the life of the Church, was incomplete pending Confirmation in this sense: it was deemed inadequate to admit one into the full Sacramental life of the Church. The requirement of Confirmation prior to reception of Holy Communion was not included in the BCP 2019, but its specter remains in the Preface, above. Confirmation is required, but for what? And why? About this, more later.
Also problematic and confusing are the Scripture references given in the Preface as justification for Confirmation. In the first, 2 Tim 1:6-7, Paul exhorts Timothy to “fan into flames the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands.” It is less than clear that this relates to Confirmation as we know and practice it; it could as easily refer to ordination. The only clear justification for inclusion of this reference is the connection it makes between the laying on of apostolic (episcopal) hands and the gift of God, i.e., a Spiritual gift.
The latter two references are much more problematic, and much more (questionably) related to the relationship between Holy Baptism and Confirmation. Each case presents a group of baptized believers who did not receive the gift of the Holy Spirit — not the gifts of the Spirit but rather the gift of the indwelling Holy Spirit — at baptism. In the first case (Act 8:14-17) the Gospel has crossed an important ethnic boundary; the believers in question were Samaritans. Is this the reason that laying on of hands by the Apostles Peter and John was required for the reception of the Holy Spirit, as something of an apostolic approval and authorization of this expansion of the Gospel? The second text (Acts 19:6) presents a group of disciples whose baptism itself was inadequate: they had only been baptized into John’s baptism for repentance, a baptism that was not complete but rather preparatory to Jesus’ baptism in water and Spirit. In other words, they had not yet received Holy Baptism. When St. Paul baptized them in the name of Jesus and laid hands on them, they received both the gift of the Spirit and the gifts of the Spirit (tongues and prophecy).
How are we to understand these texts? What are we to make of them as justification for Confirmation? More crucially, is the Preface implying by them that one does not receive the Holy Spirit at baptism, but rather at Confirmation? If that is, indeed, the case, then certainly baptism is incomplete and must be completed by Confirmation. How do the ACNA formularies address this issue?
Let’s begin with the BCP 2019 rite of Holy Baptism. In The Exhortation, the Celebrant says:
Here we ask our heavenly Father that these Candidates, being baptized with water, may be filled with the Holy Spirit, born again, and received into the Church as living members of Christ’s body (BCP 2019, p. 162).
In the Thanksgiving Over the Water, the Celebrant continues:
We thank you, Father, for the water of Baptism. In it we are buried with Christ in his death. By it we share in his resurrection. Through it we are made regenerate by the Holy Spirit (ibid, p. 168).
Following baptism, the Celebrant makes the sign of the Cross upon the forehead of the newly baptized and may say:
N., you are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own for ever (ibid, p. 169).
And then, when all have been baptized, the Celebrant prays:
Heavenly Father, we thank you that by water and the Holy Spirit you have bestowed upon these your servants the forgiveness of sin, received them as your own children by adoption, made them members of your holy Church, and raised them to the new life of grace. Sustain them, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit, that they may enjoy everlasting salvation through Jesus Christ our Lord (ibid).
From the repeated references to the Holy Spirit’s presence and activity in the sacrament of Holy Baptism, it is clear that, whatever the nature of baptism and Apostolic laying on of hands in the Acts’ texts might be, the ACNA recognizes the gift of the indwelling Holy Spirit in and through the Sacrament of baptism alone. With this, the Catechism agrees:
127. What is the inward and spiritual grace given in Baptism?
The inward and spiritual grace is death to sin and new birth to righteousness, through union with Christ in his death and resurrection. I am born a sinner by nature, separated from God. But in Baptism, through faith in Christ and the gift of the Holy Spirit, I am made a member of Christ’s body and adopted as God’s child and heir (Catechism, p. 57).
Thus, the formularies do not consider Holy Baptism in any way incomplete with respect to the gift of the Holy Spirit.
Thomas Cranmer’s first prayer book, the BCP 1549, was perhaps even more direct on the completion and sufficiency of baptism:
And that no manne shall thynke that anye detrimente shall come to children by differryng of theyr confirmacion: he shall knowe for trueth, that it is certayn by Goddes woorde, that children beeyng Baptized (if they departe out of thys lyfe in theyr infancie) are undoubtedly saved.
Clearly, then in this sense, Confirmation is not a completion of Baptism. What then is it? More about this later, following an excursus on chrismation.
Excursus: Oil of Chrism in Holy Baptism and Confirmation
Cranmer’s first prayer book, the BCP 1549, included/required signation (signing the baptizand with the cross sans chrism) prior to the baptism and then chrismation (anointing with the Oil of Chrism) after baptism using these words:
Almighty God the father of our lorde Jesus Christ, who hath regenerate thee by water and the holy gost, and hath geven unto thee remission of all thy sinnes: he vouchsafe to annoynte thee with the unccion of his holy spirite, and bryng thee to the inheritaunce of everlasting lyfe. Amen.
The chrismation was performed by the officiating priest.
In the BCP 1549 rite, there was no chrismation at confirmation, only the episcopal laying on of hands.
Martin Bucer, the German Reformer who heavily influenced Lutheran, Calvinist, and Anglican faith and practice, was unhappy with several aspects of Cranmer’s 1549 baptismal rite and suggested significant changes to it (See Stephen Sykes et al, The Study of Anglicanism (Revised Edition), SPCK/Fortress Press (2004), p. 293 ff). Amongst other changes, Bucer wanted Cranmer to (1) abolish the use of chrism, (2) eliminate the blessing of the water, and (3) limit the use of the exorcism to demoniacs only. Consequently, in his prayer book revision of 1559, Cranmer eliminated the use of chrism and exorcism and so reduced and carefully concealed the blessing of the baptismal water as to make it practically invisible. So it became not only possible but normative for a person to be baptized and confirmed without ever being chrismated. What about our current ACNA formularies?
The use of the Oil of Chrism is allowed in both the rites of Holy Baptism and Confirmation, but is mandated in neither (cf BCP, p. 169, 179). Also, neither rite makes the relationship between the use of the Oil of Chrism and the gifts of the Holy Spirit explicit. Rather, in Confirmation, it is the laying on of episcopal hands that is linked directly to the increase of the gifts of the Spirit (see BCP, p. 178, FOR CONFIRMATION). Following that episcopal act, the rite continues with the optional chrismation:
The Bishop may make the sign of the Cross with the Oil of Chrism on the forehead of any receiving the laying on of hands, and may say
N., I sign you with the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit (BCP, p. 179).
The purpose of this signing is nowhere explicated.
This potential absence of anointing with the Oil of Chrism in both the rites of Holy Baptism and Confirmation and the absence of an expressed relationship between anointing and the gifts of the Holy Spirit is puzzling in light of a paper endorsed by the ACNA College of Bishops prior to the publication of the BCP 2019:
The bestowal of the Holy Spirit upon an individual for their empowerment for ministry within the Church was the foundational reason for the Oil of Chrism. The bishop blessed this oil for those who had been baptized to represent that God now bestowed upon them the gifts of the Holy Spirit. It was also used in the ordination rites for presbyters and bishops, to empower them with the spiritual gifts appropriate to their functions in the Church (The Three Blessed Oils Used in the Early Churches, East and West, http://bcp2019.anglicanchurch.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/ART-The_Three_Blessed_Oils.pdf, accessed 03/07/2024).
This paper clearly relates the use of the Oil of Chrism to “the bestowal of the Holy Spirit upon an individual for their empowerment for ministry within the Church.” That the anointing with the Oil of Chrism is optional throughout the rites of Holy Baptism and Confirmation — and also throughout the Ordinal — then prompts the question: Is there a sacramental meaning to the anointing as implied in The Three Blessed Oils (in which case it should not be optional) or is the anointing representational only (in which case it may be optional) as perhaps the BCP implies? Confusingly, after linking the Oil of Chrism to the “bestowal of the Holy Spirit,” the Three Oils paper then speaks of “representation.” The proper answer to this ambiguity — and the real need for clarification — is perhaps especially important for baptism since the bishop is typically not the officiant and there is, consequently, no laying on of episcopal hands for the gifts of the Holy Spirit. The use of the Oil of Chrism in baptism might be seen as making the bishop sacramentally “present” and conveying his epiclesis in lieu of the corporeal laying on of episcopal hands; in this interpretation, its use should certainly not be optional. Though this is perhaps only tangentially related to the purpose of this paper, it is a point of possible confusion in our formularies. Clarification would be helpful and welcomed.
Until such clarification is forthcoming, it seems prudent for the baptizing priest to chrismate the baptizand.
CONFIRMATION
If not a completion of baptism, what then is confirmation? Cranmer was clear on this matter in the BCP 1549:
…for asmuch as confirmacion is ministered to them that be Baptised, that by imposicion of handes, and praier they may receive strength and defence against all temptacions to sin, and the assautes of the worlde, and the devill: it is most mete to be ministered, when children come to that age, that partly by the frayltie of theyr owne fleshe, partly by the assautes of the world and the devil, they begin to be in daungier to fall into sinne.
This is largely the understanding expressed in the ACNA formularies. One of the clearest statements of the purpose of Confirmation in those formularies is found in the rite of Baptism for Infants and Younger Children in the Celebrant’s address to Godparents and Sponsoring Parents:
Today, on behalf of this child, you shall make vows to renounce the devil and all his works, to trust God wholeheartedly, and to serve him faithfully. It is your task to see that this child is taught, as soon as he is able to learn, the meaning of all these vows, and of the Faith that you will profess as revealed in the Holy Scriptures. He must come to put his faith in Jesus Christ, and learn the Creeds, the Lord’s Prayer, the Ten Commandments, and all other things that a Christian ought to know, believe, and do for the welfare of his soul. When he has embraced all these, he is to come to the Bishop to be confirmed, that he may publicly claim the Faith for his own and be further strengthened by the Holy Spirit to serve Christ and his kingdom, (BCP 2019, p. 163).
The Preface To Confirmation likewise emphasizes the strengthening by the Holy Spirit:
In Confirmation, through the Bishop’s laying on of hands and prayer for daily increase in the Holy Spirit, God strengthens the believer for Christian life in the service of Christ and his kingdom (ibid, p. 174).
Even more explicit are the Bishop’s words in The Presentation, Exhortation, and Examination of the confirmands:
Dearly beloved, it is essential that those who wish to be Confirmed or Received in this Church publicly confess Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior; become his disciples; know and affirm the Nicene Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments; and have received instruction in the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments and the Catechism of the Church. God’s grace is imparted in Baptism, through which we are made God’s children by adoption and given the Holy Spirit. By the power of the Spirit, manifested in gifts and fruit, we are enabled to be God’s people for the sake of the world.
Now, these Candidates desire publicly to confess their faith in Jesus Christ as Savior and their commitment to follow him as Lord. They also desire the strengthening of grace through the laying on of hands, that the Holy Spirit may fill them more and more for their ministry in the Church and in the world (ibid, p. 176).
Lastly, following The Examination, the Bishop prays:
Almighty and everlasting God, we beseech you to strengthen these your servants for witness and ministry through the power of your Holy Spirit. Daily increase in them your manifold virtues of grace: the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and true godliness, and the spirit of holy fear, now and for ever (ibid, p. 178).
In these texts the purposes of confirmation are made explicit: to establish/verify the faith of the confirmand and to strengthen the confirmand through the increase of Spiritual gifts requisite for mature ministry in the Church and in the world.
The bishop is to establish/verify the faith of each confirmand by ascertaining — either by direct examination or by assurance of the sponsors — that each has been adequately instructed in the Creeds, the Lord’s Prayer, the Ten Commandments, and the Old and New Testaments, and by receiving from each an expression of his/her faith in and commitment to the Lord Jesus Christ. Then the Bishop is to impart strengthening grace to each confirmand through prayer with the laying on of hands, specifically imploring God that each confirmand will receive daily increase of the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit (wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, godliness, and holy fear) to empower each for mature ministry in the Church and in the world.
Thus, Confirmation is not a completion of Holy Baptism, but a movement beyond baptism (new birth) toward spiritual maturity and service, a sacramental rite administered by the Bishop as the successor of the Apostles.
Pentecost presents a reasonable and helpful spiritual analogy for Confirmation, one which is not infrequently encountered in sacramental thought and commentary. Prior to Pentecost, the Apostles were not absent the Spirit; Jesus had breathed his Spirit upon them on the day of Resurrection (see John 20:21-23). Yet, they were not yet sufficiently empowered for the commission he was to give them:
Acts 1:6–8 (ESV): 6 So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” 7 He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
Ten days later, on Pentecost, the Apostles, and other disciples, received the empowering gift of the Holy Spirit, a confirmation of sorts. It is a reasonable and powerful image to present Confirmation as a personal Pentecost empowering the confirmand for the commission that Christ has given to all members of his Body, and for the unique work to which he has called each member of it.
Excursus. A Rite For Admission Of Catechumens (Catechism, pp. 123-125)
The rubric for the subject rite notes:
This form is to be used for adults, or older children who are able to answer for themselves, at the beginning of a course of instruction in the teachings of the Church. It is to be used in preparation for Holy Baptism or, if those seeking admission were baptized as infants, for Confirmation.
It is the latter use — for those adult confirmands baptized as infants — that is puzzling. The rite begins with the Catechumens sequestered by the principal door until the Gospel has been proclaimed; in other words it begins with baptized Christians being temporarily and symbolically “denied” their rightful place among the community of the faithful. Of what is that a symbol? What is it intended to communicate? Then the Celebrant poses a series of questions, beginning with the following. Note particularly the Catechumens’ answer:
Celebrant What is your hope?
CatechumensNew life in Christ.
But “new life in Christ” is precisely what the baptized Catechumens have already received in their baptism (see BCP, pp. 188-189), unless, of course we wish to postulate a difference between infant baptism and “adult believers” baptism, a difference that finds no support elsewhere in the BCP or Catechism.
Then follows the Enrollment And Exorcism. For the unbaptized coming to the church from pagan (early centuries) or neo-pagan (current) cultures, the need for exorcism is relatively clear. But, in the absence of robust teaching on evil spirits and exorcism (which neither the BCP nor the Catechism provides) the exorcism of a baptized Christian is confusing and might imply that the earlier infant baptism — with attendant exorcism — was somehow deficient, perhaps specifically that the baptized Christian had not received the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. That false implication is especially problematic.
Until this confusion is addressed in the ACNA formularies, it seems prudent to use A Rite For Admission For Catechumens only for those adults preparing for Holy Baptism and not for those preparing for Confirmation.
FURTHER COMMENTS
This section goes beyond the original purpose of this paper to note a source of confusion regarding Holy Baptism and Confirmation found in the Catechism. It is particularly significant since it relates to the ordo salutis and the Anglican understanding of Sacraments and salvation.
While it is possible to articulate a coherent theology of Confirmation based on and conforming to the BCP 2019 and the Catechism, there are portions of these formularies which are problematic and which breed ambiguity (at best) and confusion (at worst). A case in point is the opening section of the Catechism, The Gospel. In its laudable effort to be evangelistic, the Catechism muddies the water with its inclusion of the “Sinner’s Prayer” and its description of the “process” of turning to Christ, the ordo salutis:
A clear way to make this commitment of faith and repentance is to offer to God a prayer in which you
• confess your sins to God, being as specific as possible, and repent by turning from them;
• thank God for his mercy and forgiveness given to you in Jesus Christ;
• promise to follow and obey Jesus as your Lord;
• ask the Holy Spirit to help you be faithful to Jesus as you grow into spiritual maturity.
One example of such a prayer is the following:
Almighty Father, I confess that I have sinned against you in my thoughts, words, and actions (especially _______________). I am truly sorry and humbly repent. Thank you for forgiving my sins through the death of your Son, Jesus. I turn to you and give you my life. Fill and strengthen me with your Holy Spirit to love you, to follow Jesus as my Lord in the fellowship of his Church, and to become more like him each day. Amen (The Catechism, pp. 21-22).
The manifest problem with this process is the arrogation of the graces of Holy Baptism and Confirmation unto the Sinner’s Prayer, specifically the forgiveness of sin, the filling with the Holy Sprit, and the strengthening by the Holy Spirit. The Sinner’s Prayer seems to have become a Sacrament rendering the need for Holy Baptism questionable. Unfortunate also is the strong implication that by offering this prayer one has become part of the fellowship of Christ’s Church. And, confusing matters further, the Catechism continues:
14. What should you do as the sign of your repentance and faith?
After receiving instruction in the faith, I should be baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, thus joining his Body, the Church (ibid, p. 26).
Here baptism is reduced to a mere sign of repentance and faith rather than a Sacrament through which one receives forgiveness of sin, new life, and the gift of the Holy Spirit — something one “should” do but not presented as something one must do as generally necessary for salvation (see BCP 2019, p. 169).
A careful revision of the Catechism could eliminate such confusing passages that do not conform to the theology of Holy Baptism and Confirmation expressed throughout the formularies.
CONCLUSION
New homes, those designed by thoughtful architects and constructed by skillful contractors, cohere in a way that remodeled older homes never quite do. In the remodels there are always telltale signs of things that almost perfectly fit, but not quite: rooflines that are a bit off and lead to guttering problems, siding or brick or stone that is ever so close but not quite matching, a mix of copper pipes and PVC. Anglicanism is most definitely a remodel, and thanks be to God for it. Only by virtue of being a remodel, of being reformed (remodeled) Catholicism and not a new construction entirely, does it exercise a full and valid claim to be part of the one holy catholic and Apostolic Church. But that means it also has some theological rooflines that don’t quite align. That is the case with Baptism, Confirmation, and the ACNA formularies. The formularies are largely consistent, but not perfectly so. If there are no internal contradictions, there are internal ambiguities and real “head scratchers.” Some of these are likely intentional. The optional use of the Oil of Chrism in baptism and Confirmation is a possible case in point. Truly Reformed Anglicans are dismayed that chrism may be used and Anglo-Catholics are equally dismayed that it may not be used. Provisions are made for each group rendering each equally unhappy. That sometimes seems to be the nature of Anglicanism: a compromise that leaves everyone equally uncomfortable but still at home enough to stay. Some other of the ambiguities — and, dare I say, inconsistencies — are likely due to committee work and perhaps a failure to communicate clearly enough to ensure consistency within and among the formularies. The inclusion of the “Sinner’s Prayer” in the Catechism is almost certainly a case in point. It pulls the Anglican sacramental understanding and ordo salutis out of shape.
These are not insurmountable problems: the gutters leak a bit, but the roof is not about to cave in. Still, I think, it would be prudent to fix things before the next storm hits. Until the next renovation, I pray this very modest paper will aid catechists as they prepare their parishioners for either Holy Baptism or Confirmation.
The second shortest liturgical season of the year begins with the third Sunday prior to the beginning of Lent, this year on 16 February; it consists of three Sundays and the partial week leading to Ash Wednesday. The Sundays have “strange” names based (very) roughly on the number of days from each Sunday until Easter: Septuagesima (seventy days), the third Sunday before Lent; Sexagesima (sixty days), the second Sunday before Lent; and Quinquagesima (fifty days), the Sunday next before Lent.
This Pre-Lenten season was known at least as early as the 6th century and may have originated with St. Gregory the Great. Recently, however, it has fallen into relative obscurity among many Anglicans in America, not least due to modern revisions of the Book of Common Prayer (BCP). The season was a fixture in the normative BCP 1662 and also in the American revision of 1928. Ironically, with the recovery of some other ancient liturgical forms in the BCP 1979, the season fell out of use. It is mentioned in the calendar rubrics of the ACNA’s BCP 2019 (p. 689)— and observance is allowed — but no proper collect or lections are provided. Instead, Sexagesima Sunday has been replaced with World Mission Sunday and Quinquagesima with an extraneous and perpetually confusing Transfiguration observance. The “Gesimas” are, at best, vestigial and noted mainly by their absence in the BCP 2019.
Perhaps that reorientation is proper? After all, do we really need a season of preparation for the season of preparation for Eastertide: Pre-Lent to prepare for Lent to prepare for Easter? Could we enter a liturgical hall of mirrors with infinite regression of preparation? It is a reasonable concern. I was helped in thinking this through by a reflection on the monastic practice of statio in Sr. Joan Chittister’s book “The Monastic Heart:”
Statio is being where you are supposed to be before you need to go there. In monastic parlance, it is about being consciously committed to what you are there to do, so that your mind isn’t partially distracted by the thing you just left behind. It requires you to get ready for one of these central moments of your spiritual life, to concentrate on the things of God, to leave behind for a while the distractions of the day. It enables us to separate ourselves from one thing entirely before we start another one with half ourselves still concentrated on the thing we just left behind.
Monastic statio, going to chapel to get ready for prayer before prayer starts, is one of the important things in monastic life. Being prepared, conscious, alert, ready, centered, and there — early — is the lesson of a lifetime. We learn that to concentrate on words and phrases we’ve said for years is the beginning of spiritual maturity. It is a model of the manner of spiritual growth that develops a layer, an insight at a time (Chittister, 2021, Convergent, pp. 8-9).
Statio is getting to the party early so as to fully embrace the festivities. Statio is settling down in the nave or chapel ten minutes before the prelude to pray or just to sit in silence (on the off chance there actually is preparatory silence in any given nave) so that your heart is open to the mysteries when they begin, open and undistracted by the struggle of getting the kids fed and dressed before church or the “discussion” with your spouse on the way there, or even your “duties” in preparation for the upcoming service. Perhaps statio is the three Sundays of the shortest liturgical season: three Sundays to prepare your heart fully to receive the ashes on Wednesday and to enter the Lenten season with proper focus and devotion. Perhaps some don’t need that at all; perhaps many do but have neither recognized that need nor attended to it.
If you would like to reflect on the Pre-Lenten season a bit more, following are the collects and lections for Septuagesima, Sexagesima, and Quinquagesima Sundays taken from the BCP 1662.
SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY (16 February 2025)
The Collect
O LORD, we beseech thee favourably to hear the prayers of thy people; that we, who are justly punished for our offences, may be mercifully delivered by thy goodness, for the glory of thy Name; through Jesus Christ our Saviour, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost ever, one God, world without end. Amen.
The Epistle. I Corinthians ix. 24.
24 Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that ye may obtain. 25 And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible. 26 I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air: 27 But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.
The Gospel. St. Matthew xx. I.
1 For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers into his vineyard. 2 And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. 3 And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the marketplace, 4 And said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you. And they went their way. 5 Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise. 6 And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? 7 They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive. 8 So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the labourers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first. 9 And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny. 10 But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more; and they likewise received every man a penny. 11 And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house, 12 Saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day. 13 But he answered one of them, and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny? 14 Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee. 15 Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good? 16 So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen.
SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY (23 February 2025)
The Collect
O LORD God, who seest that we put not our trust in any thing that we do: Mercifully grant that by thy power we may be defended against all adversity; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
The Epistle. I Corinthians xi. 11.
YE suffer fools gladly, seeing ye yourselves are wise. For ye suffer if a man bring you into bondage, if a man devour you, if a man take of you, if a man exalt himself, if a man smite you on the face. I speak as concerning reproach, as though we had been weak: howbeit, whereinsoever any is bold, (I speak foolishly,) I am bold also. Are they Hebrews? so am I. Are they Israelites? so am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? so am I. Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool,) I am more: in labours more abundant; in stripes above measure; in prisons more frequent; in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one; thrice was I beaten with rods; once was I stoned; thrice I suffered shipwreck; a night and a day I have been in the deep; in journeyings often; in perils of waters; in perils of robbers; in perils by mine own countrymen; in perils by the heathen; in perils in the city; in perils in the wilderness; in perils in the sea; in perils among false brethren; in weariness and painfulness; in watchings often; in hunger and thirst; in fastings often; in cold and nakedness; besides those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not? If I must needs glory, I will glory of the things which concern mine infirmities. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which is blessed for evermore, knoweth that I lie not.
The Gospel. St. Luke xiii.8.
WHEN much people were gathered together, and were come to him out of every city, he spake by a parable: A sower went out to sow his seed; and as he sowed, some fell by the way-side, and it was trodden down, and the fowls of the air devoured it. And some fell upon a rock, and as soon as it was sprung up, it withered away, because it lacked moisture. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprang up with it, and choked it. And other fell on good ground, and sprang up, and bare fruit an hundred-fold. And when he had said these things, he cried, He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. And his disciples asked him, saying, What might this parable be? And he said, Unto you it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God: but to others in parables; that seeing they might not see, and hearing they might not understand. Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. Those by the way-side are they that hear; then cometh the devil, and taketh away the word out of their hearts, lest they should believe, and be saved. They on the rock are they which, when they hear, receive the word with joy; and these have no root, which for a while believe, and in time of temptation fall away. And that which fell among thorns are they which, when they have heard, go forth, and are choked with cares, and riches, and pleasures of this life, and bring no fruit to perfection. But that on the good ground are they which in an honest and good heart, having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience.
QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY (2 March 2025)
The Collect
O LORD, who hast taught us that all our doings without charity are nothing worth: Send thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of charity, the very bond of peace and of all virtues, without which whosoever liveth is counted dead before thee. Grant this for thine only Son Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.
The Epistle. 1 Corinthians xiii.1.
THOUGH I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three: but the greatest of these is charity.
The Gospel. St. Luke xviii.31.
THEN Jesus took unto him the twelve, and said unto them, Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, and all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man shall be accomplished. For he shall be delivered unto the Gentiles, and shall be mocked, and spitefully entreated, and spitted on: and they shall scourge him, and put him to death; and the third day he shall rise again. And they understood none of these things: and this saying was hid from them, neither knew they the things which were spoken. And it came to pass, that as he was come nigh unto Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the way-side begging: and hearing the multitude pass by, he asked what it meant. And they told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by. And he cried, saying, Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me. And they which went before rebuked him, that he should hold his peace: but he cried so much the more, Thou Son of David, have mercy on me. And Jesus stood, and commanded him to be brought unto him: and when he was come near, he asked him, saying, What wilt thou that I should do unto thee? And he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight. And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight; thy faith hath saved thee. And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God: and all the people, when they saw it, gave praise unto God.
In a previous post (https://www.facebook.com/share/p/15pMJXuNnK/?mibextid=wwXlfr) I noted that Anglican Social Teaching is rooted in the fundamental Anglican principle “lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi:” the rule of prayer is the rule of faith is the rule of life. There is a fundamental synergy in the Anglican Way: prayer and faith are mutually formative — we pray as we believe and we believe as we pray — and both prayer and faith form our lives in Christ and in the world. As an example I offered some specific social intercessions from The Great Litany as a starting place for Anglican Social Teaching. But, our Prayer Book is suffused with prayers that lie at the intersection of this world and the world to come. That is because we are to pray for, work for, point to, and hasten the coming of the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven. Our social action must be eschatological or it is not Christian at all.
Continuing this theme, I offer these prayers from the ACNA Book of Common Prayer 2019, prayers which must inform our social conscience and our social action.
FOR THE PRESIDENT AND ALL IN CIVIL AUTHORITY O Lord our Governor, whose glory fills all the world: We commend this Nation to your merciful care, that we may be guided by your providence, and dwell secure in your peace. Grant to the President of this Nation, the Governor of this State [or Commonwealth], and to all in authority, wisdom and strength to know and to do your will. Fill them with the love of truth and righteousness, and make them continually mindful of their calling to serve this people in reverent obedience to you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen (BCP 2019, p. 657).
FOR OUR NATION Almighty God, who hast given us this good land for our heritage: We humbly beseech thee that we may always prove ourselves a people mindful of thy great favor and glad to do thy will. Bless our land with honorable industry, sound learning, and pure conduct. Save us from violence, discord, and confusion; from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way. Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people the multitudes brought hither out of many kindreds and tongues. Endue with the spirit of wisdom those to whom, in thy Name, we entrust the authority of government, that there may be justice and peace at home, and that, through obedience to thy law, we may sho forth thy praise among the nations of the earth. In the time of prosperity, fill our hearts with thankfulness, and in the day of trouble, suffer not our trust in thee to fail; all of which we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen (ibid, pp. 657-658).
FOR ALL SORTS AND CONDITIONS OF MEN O God, the creator and preserver of all mankind, we humbly beseech thee for all sorts and conditions of men; that thou wouldest be pleased to make thy ways known unto them, thy saving health unto all nations. More especially we pray for thy holy Church universal, that it may be so guided and governed by they good Spirit, that all who profess and call themselves Christians may be led into the way of truth, and hold the faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of life. Finally, we commend to thy fatherly goodness all those who are in amy ways afflicted or distressed, in mind, body, or estate, [especially those for whom our prayers are desired]; that it may please thee to comfort and relieve them according to their several necessities, giving them patience under their sufferings, and a happy issue out of all their afflictions. And this we beg for Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen (ibid, p. 658).
FOR THE HUMAN FAMILY O God, you made us in your own image, and you have redeemed us through your Son Jesus Christ: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around you heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen (ibid, p. 659)
IN TIMES OF SOCIAL CONFLICT OR DISTRESS Increase, O God, the spirit of neighborliness among us, that in peril we may uphold one another, in suffering tend to one another, and in homelessness, loneliness, or exile befriend one another. Grant us brave and enduring hearts that we may strengthen one another, until the disciplines and testing of these days are ended, and you again give peace in our time; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen (ibid).
I admire the thoroughness and consistency with which the Roman Catholic Church has developed its social teaching through the generations. As far as I can tell, we Anglicans lack the same theological breadth, depth, and height in this area. What we do have — and I treasure it — are social convictions that proceed from a core Anglican principle: lex orandi, lex credendi — the law (rule) of prayer is the law (rule) of faith. I have even seen the principle extended: lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi — as we pray, so we believe, and so we live. This simply means that our theology is found in our prayers, and that both our theology and our prayers — please, God — are found in our lives. If I am right, we should look to our prayers for Anglican social teaching, not least to The Great Litany (ACNA BCP 2019, pp. 91-99).
It is clear from The Great Litany that Anglicans are pro-birth:
To protect the unborn and their parents, and to preserve all women in childbirth; We beseech you to hear us, good Lord (BCP 2019, p. 94).
But, pro-birth — as central as it is to Anglican social teaching — is at significant remove from a consistent pro-life conviction. A full-blown pro-life theology would require as much care and advocacy for the children once they are born, once they have grown, once they are elderly and infirm and costly and inconvenient and burdensome. It would require advocacy for those on death row in our prisons. It would demand a pro-life stance for those who flee danger and oppression in their own countries of origin and seek refuge among us: humane treatment, the dignity due to all image bearers of God, the commitment to loving neighbor as self, even if the self is a Jew and the neighbor a Samaritan. So we pray:
That it may please you to show mercy on all prisoners and captives; refugees, the homeless, and the hungry; and all those who are desolate and oppressed, We beseech you to hear us, good Lord (ibid).
Even these categories, already so extensive as to make all of us squirm uncomfortably, are not broad enough:
To have mercy upon all people, We beseech you to hear us, good Lord.
All people. If we do not hesitate and stammer when we pray that, we are probably mindlessly mouthing words. All people: Blacks and Whites, Asians and Latinos, Jews and Palestinians, Russians and Ukrainians, Christians and Muslims and any other dichotomies you care to enumerate. And because we do not always — and perhaps not even often — fulfill our conviction of lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi, The Great Litany places these words in our mouths that they might descend to and transform our hearts:
That it may please you to give us true repentance; to forgive us all our sin, negligence, and ignorance; and to endue us with the grace of your Holy Spirit to amend our lives according to your holy Word, We beseech you to hear us, good Lord (ibid, p. 95).
The Democrats are right — and wrong. The Republicans are wrong — and right. The Great Litany is simply right: full stop. So, we Anglicans who pray it have no reason or right to remain muddled or ambivalent or divided along partisan lines. Rather, we must — to be faithful to the Tradition and to our own patrimony — pray as we have learned, believe as we pray, and live as we believe.
The GospelAccording To Jesus (Neh 8:1-12, Ps 113, 1 Cor 12:12-27, Luke 4:14-21)
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.”
I once read that Johann Sebastian Bach claimed he could hear the first four or five measures of another composer’s work and then finish that composition himself, as the actual composer intended. That is not an outrageous or arrogant assertion, not really; Bach insisted that any competent composer could have done the same. It is simply a recognition that Baroque music then — and even whatever it is that passes for music today — was and is formulaic; it develops according to an established pattern, a common structure. Pop songs today — think Taylor Swift — generally have this pattern:
Intro
Verse
Pre-Chorus
Chorus
Rinse and Repeat (more of the same)
Bridge
Outro
The intro announces the musical theme of the song: the rhythm, the key, the chord progression. Any good record producer could hear the intro of a song and know pretty well what is to follow. Like Bach said, it is all there in the first four or five measures.
This is true to a lesser extent, but still true, with many sermons. Listen well to the intro — the part of the sermon that I am delivering right now — and you may well be able to predict how the sermon is going to develop. When I was young, and still often today, the typical sermon format was:
Intro
Three Points
Closing
Beat the Baptists to the Buffet
The intro announces the theme — usually in the Scriptures, sometimes in a prayer, and perhaps even in a brief overview of the three points to follow. Hearing just that much — hearing just the intro — many other preachers could complete the sermon quite satisfactorily, and many attentive parishioners could predict where the sermon is going. Let’s test this out.
In my intro thus far, I have told you that Bach could listen to the first four of five measures of an unknown composition and then complete it. I have explained that this was likely true because music then and now has an established structure. I have even shown you the common format of a pop song for example. And then, in a strategic move, I switched topics from musical composition to homiletics — to preaching; a sermon, like a song, often has a structure and content that may sometimes be predicted from its intro. So, where do you expect me to go now with this sermon? Can you predict my next move, assuming I am not being intentionally deceptive?
You might reasonably expect me to show you how this works using a real sermon as an example. And that is exactly what I intend to do, using not one of my sermons, but one of our Lord’s, Jesus’s first recorded sermon in St. Luke’s Gospel.
Luke 4:16–21 (ESV) 16 And [Jesus] came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And as was his custom, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and he stood up to read. 17 And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written,
18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, 19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
20 And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down. And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 And he began to say to them, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
That is all that St. Luke provides us of Jesus’s sermon proper right here; I presume that there was more — St. Luke more than implies it — but we do not have it. So, we have to consider this not as the full sermon, but rather as the intro to the sermon that follows. I want to suggest to you that the rest of St. Luke’s Gospel, the entirety of his Gospel, isthe sermon that follows from this intro: not just what we hear Jesus say, but also what we see him do. In this intro Jesus announces the in-breaking, the inauguration, of the kingdom of God — in his person, and in the people’s presence —the firstfruits of the great vision of Isaiah. What then should they — what then should we — expect to see as this sermon develops over the next three years?
If Bach was right, if I am right to extend Bach’s claim from musical compositions to sermons, then it is all there in the intro:
Good news to the poor
Liberty for the captives
Recovery of sight for the blind
Liberty for the oppressed
Jubilee (the year of the Lord’s favor) — the restoration and renewal of all things
My friends, taken together this is the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ; he even names it as ευαγγελιον, as good news, as the good news of God’s kingdom coming on earth as it is in heaven. You can work through the dense theology of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans — and you should do — to see how all this good news works out, but you will find there no better explication of the Gospel than these words of the Lord: blessing for the poor, liberty for the captives, healing for the blind and, by extension, for all those with all sorts of physical and spiritual illnesses, freedom for the oppressed, and Jubilee, God’s putting to rights of all things — including ourselves — all things that we have desecrated through our complicity with the world, the flesh, and the devil. From the intro, this is what we expect to see in Jesus’s great sermon that comprises the rest of St. Luke’s Gospel. And it is so.
In my Bible you do not even have to turn a page to see this begin unfolding. Jesus leaves Nazareth for Capernaum. There he teaches with authority in the synagogue. And though we do not have his lesson plan, I think we can state confidently that in his teaching he announces the good news of the kingdom of God, not with words only, but with deeds of power. Right there, in the midst of the synagogue, a demon manifests and Jesus rebukes the unclean spirit and casts it out with just a word, setting at liberty the man who had been oppressed, just as the intro of the sermon had said.
From the synagogue, Jesus goes to Simon Peter’s house, and learning that Simon’s mother-in-law is ill with a fever, Jesus rebukes the fever and heals her. And later that same day, when the Sabbath is over, multitudes come — the sick and those bringing their sick with them — and Jesus lays hands on every one of them and heals them of physical and spiritual disease. Almost certainly, some blind recovered their sight, just as the intro had said.
Continuing to peruse the text, we see in short order Jesus cleanse a leper, heal a paralytic, restore a man’s withered hand.
Oh, and then Jesus speaks great good news to the poor, the captives, the oppressed, those longing for Jubilee:
Luke 6:20–23 (ESV) 20 And he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said:
“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. 21 “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied.“Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh. 22 “Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you and revile you and spurn your name as evil, on account of the Son of Man! 23 Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven; for so their fathers did to the prophets.
It was all there in the intro, in that so very brief word in the synagogue of Nazareth, and now we hear it and see it playing out in the sermon of Jesus’s life: blessing for the poor, liberty for the captives, healing for the blind and, by extension, for all those with all sorts of illnesses, freedom for the oppressed, and Jubilee, God’s putting to rights of all things — including ourselves — all things that we have desecrated through our complicity with the world, the flesh, and the devil. This is the Gospel. This is kingdom come. This is the intro of the sermon fleshed out in the life of Jesus and in the lives of flesh and blood people.
This presentation of the Gospel, which is Jesus’s own presentation of the Gospel, does not look much like the Campus Crusade Four Spiritual Laws or the oft-trod Romans Road. There is no talk of man’s sin and separation from God. There is no mention of Jesus’s death, resurrection, and ascension. There is no insistence upon accepting Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior: no promise of heaven if you do and warning of hell if you don’t. There is no Sinner’s Prayer. So, some would say that this is not the Gospel at all. The problem with saying that is simple; Jesus says, in word and deed, that it is the Gospel. Jesus says the good news, the Gospel, is blessing for the poor, liberty for the captives, healing for the blind and for all those with all sorts of illnesses, freedom for the oppressed, and Jubilee. Jesus says that the Gospel is all about what God is doing in and through his Son to inaugurate the kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven. So what about these other, more familiar aspects?
What about sin and separation from God? It is absolutely true; that is the condition of all fallen men and women born into this fallen world: subject to death, in bondage to sin, and under the dominion of the fallen powers, separated from God. But, that is not good news; that is not Gospel. The Gospel is the proclamation of liberty for those captive to sin, death, and the powers.
What about Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension? It is all absolutely true and it is all absolutely essential for the Gospel. But, it is not, in itself the Gospel. Rather, it is the power of the Gospel, the means by which the Gospel is realized. It is the victory of Jesus by which he “conquered sin, put death to flight, and gave us the hope of everlasting life” (BCP 2019, p. 22): no death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus — no Gospel. As our Eucharistic liturgy proclaims:
In obedience to your will, he stretched out his arms upon the Cross and offered himself once for all, that by his suffering and death we might be saved. By his resurrection he broke the bonds of death, trampling Hell and Satan under his feet. As our great high priest, he ascended to your right hand in glory, that we might come with confidence before the throne of grace (BCP 2019, p. 133).
What of accepting Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior? That is non-negotiable. It is the first of the affirmations of the Rite of Holy Baptism:
Question: Do you turn to Jesus Christ and confess him as your Lord and Savior?
Answer: I do (BCP 2019, p. 164).
No other answer is permitted. And for those who are baptized as infants and so do not take this vow for themselves at baptism, there is this word in the Preface for Confirmation:
The Anglican Church requires a public and personal profession of the Faith from every adult believer in Jesus Christ. Confirmation or Reception by a Bishop is its liturgical expression (BCP 2019, p. 174).
Accepting Jesus as one’s personal Lord and Savior in baptism is not the Gospel; but it is the way each of us receives the Gospel, the way in which we are enfolded into the Gospel so that it becomes good news for us.
Heaven and hell? Surely that is part of the Gospel? Well, yes and no. Hell is not part of the Gospel because it is in no way good news. Rather, hell is that eternal separation from God that one willingly chooses when one rejects the Gospel. Hell is the anti-gospel: eternal poverty, eternal captivity, eternal blindness, eternal oppression, eternal loss and eternal death. Lord, have mercy: may it never be for those we love, for those God loves. As for Heaven, it is part of the Gospel, but not as so often portrayed. Heaven is not a place to which our disembodied souls eternally escape the confines of this world and of our bodies when we die. That notion entirely ignores resurrection. No, heaven is God’s realm which will one day be joined to the new earth, where we, in our resurrected bodies, will dwell with God and he with us:
Revelation 21:1–4 21 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. 2 And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. 4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
Now, that is good news, isn’t it? That is Gospel. The description of that union of heaven and earth sounds so very much like the intro to Jesus’s sermon, to his proclamation of Gospel: no tears, no death, no mourning or crying or pain anymore. All of those will be old tales, long forgotten when the Scripture has been fulfilled.
18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, 19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:18-19).
That is the Gospel according to Jesus, according to the intro to his sermon in the synagogue at Nazareth all those years ago, and the full text of it in his every word and deed that followed. And all of us — having received the ευαγγελιον, the good news — have been commissioned by the Lord Jesus and empowered by the Holy Spirit to proclaim it, to be evangelists in our world, in our time, not only with our lips, but in our lives. And that commission is not optional; it is not for some, but for all. That is the thrust of Jesus’s very sobering words in the Gospel of St. Matthew:
Matthew 25:31–46 (ESV) 31 “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. 32 Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. 34 Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? 38 And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? 39 And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ 40 And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’
41 “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42 For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ 44 Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ 45 Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ 46 And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”
The proof of Jesus’s faithfulness to his Father was his proclamation of the Gospel in word and deed. The proof of our faithfulness to Jesus is our proclamation of the Gospel in word and deed; we have that from Jesus himself.
So, brothers and sisters, it is now our God-given vocation — an inherent part of our Christian identity as prophets, priests, and kings — to go forth into the world proclaiming the Gospel even as Jesus himself did:
Good news to the poor
Liberty for the captives
Recovery of sight for the blind
Liberty for the oppressed
Jubilee (the year of the Lord’s favor) — the restoration and renewal of all things,
in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ (Isa 60:1-9, Ps 72:1-11, Eph 3:1-13, Matt 2:1-12)
The Lord has shown forth his glory: O come, let us adore him.
After twelve days celebrating the Feast of the Incarnation, we draw the liturgical curtains closed on Christmastide this evening: Thanks be to God! I say “Thanks be to God!” not in a flippant or weary or cynical way — I take great delight in observing the Nativity of our Lord — but rather out of the conviction that we must not let the Story get stuck at Christmas like the Will Ferrell character Ricky Bobby does, praying still and always to “Dear Eight Pound, Six Ounce, Newborn Baby Jesus, in your golden fleece diapers, with your curled-up, fat, balled-up little fists pawin’ at the air.” It is not insignificant that our culture remembers Jesus — if at all — mainly at his birth and then, through cultural indifference and disbelief, freezes the story there until next year. A baby is cute and lovable and harmless; it makes no demands, issues no challenges except to its sleep-deprived parents. The rest of us can smile at its eight pound, six ounce cuteness and be on our way about our lives as we choose to live them. But, like it or not, ready or not, willing or not the baby does not stay in the manger; the Story moves on. Its next major chapter is the Epiphany of our Lord Jesus Christ, the shining forth of the glory of God, in Jesus, upon the Gentiles, upon the nations. That is what the Church observes this day.
The Epiphany raises many questions, not least this one: Who is the president of Andorra? Now, I am certain that you are generally familiar with the Principality of Andorra, the sixth smallest European state, located in the Pyrenees Mountains, sandwiched between France on the North and Spain on the South: everyone knows that. But who is the President of Andorra? Ah, trick question, you say, and right you are; Andorra has no president. It is ruled by Co-Princes, the Bishop of Urgell in Spain and the President of France. It is governed by a parliament, the General Council, headed by the Prime Minister who serves as chief executive. What is that Prime Minister’s name? I’ll bet you don’t know that. If anyone does, I offer my sincerest apologies. Honestly, I don’t know myself, and, frankly, I don’t care. Andorra, as a political entity, has no meaning for me whatsoever. When the Bishop of Urgell retires and the Catholic Church appoints a successor who will then be Co-Prince over Andorra, the world will little notice. When a new Prime Minister is elected, the event will not make the headlines in our newspapers. It is doubtful that any high ranking government officials from the United States will travel to Andorra for the installation of a Co-Prince or a Prime Minister there. The United States Ambassador to Spain, who secondarily represents our nation to Andorra, might do, but mainly as a formality. Andorra is a little, out of the way place, with no great political or economic power, and so the rest of the world pays it little attention.
Yes, the Epiphany raises many questions, and it always has done, like this one: Who is the King of the Jews — where may he be found? Had you asked this in the days of Caesar Augustus during the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria, the inhabitants of Judea — and of Galilee and Samaria — would have answered easily enough: Herod, whose palace is in Jerusalem. How far this knowledge rippled outward from the epicenter of Jerusalem, I have no idea. The political intelligentsia in Rome and in the Roman provinces around Judea knew, of course: but ordinary folk in the hinterlands, probably not. The goings-on in a small Levantine fiefdom mattered hardly at all in the broader world. Little Judea in the vast Roman Empire then was not unlike tiny Andorra in the world beyond the European Union now: a political entity of little meaning to hardly anyone whatsoever. Prime Ministers of Andorra now and Kings of the Jews then come and go, and the rest of the world remains largely unaffected and uninterested.
So, it is rather surprising that a foreign “delegation” of Magi arrived in Jerusalem in the days of Caesar Augustus shortly after the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him” (Matt 2:2, ESV throughout). These three sages — the Eastern Church says twelve, but we know better — these three “wise men” were astrologers, keen observers of the heavens who sought meaning in stars and planets, in comets and meteors, in their alignments and conjunctions, omens which the Jews themselves were not allowed to consult. And yet, for his purposes, God, in his mercy, chose to reveal this good news to pagans in a way that pagans would understand, a star to the astrologers. And that raises another interesting question worth pondering later: how might God reveal himself, through the Church, to the neo-pagan culture in which we live? But I digress: back to the story! What astronomical phenomenon the Magi witnessed to prompt their pilgrimage is still the subject of debate among our own scientific astrologers; we call them astronomers, but they are still observing, still seeking meaning in the skies not so unlike the Magi of old. And how they discerned that this particular heavenly manifestation had to do with the Jews and with the birth of a Jewish king — well, that, too, is a mystery. St. John Chrysostom suggests that these Magi were descendants of Balaam, the Old Testament Gentile prophet hired to curse the Hebrews, the one who blessed them instead, the one who said:
Numbers 24:15–17a (ESV):
“The oracle of Balaam the son of Beor, the oracle of the man whose eye is opened, 16 the oracle of him who hears the words of God, and knows the knowledge of the Most High, who sees the vision of the Almighty, falling down with his eyes uncovered: 17 I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near: a star shall come out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel.”
Perhaps St. Chrysostom was right and the cult of Magi had preserved the prophecy generationally (https://catholicism.org/chrysostom-epiphany.html). All we know for certain is this: in the providence of the God of the Jews, the God who made the heavens and all their vast array, God made this mystery known to the Magi.
They began their trek along the path the star led not as some official delegation, not as ambassadors of their people to greet the new king of some nearby people and perhaps to seek political, military, and economic alliances, but rather as seekers after the truth, compelled by the truth as revealed in the night sky. As so they followed the star to Jerusalem with the question: “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”
Their talk of a new king of the Jews took the old king of the Jews — King Herod — by surprise, and it troubled him. And, when this brutal, unpredictable King was troubled, everyone around him — the entire city of Jerusalem — was troubled, and rightly so, as we see later in the story. Herod asked his own wise men — the chief priest and scribes, those familiar with the Law and the Prophets — the same question the Magi had posed: Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?
Matthew 2:5–6 (ESV):
5 They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it is written by the prophet:
6 “ ‘And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.’ ”
Bethlehem — a hamlet far less important than Jerusalem then, probably less important than Andorra, now? Yes, Bethlehem, the house of bread by translation, the ancestral village of King David. And so, instructed by Herod to go to Bethlehem, find the child, worship and bring word back to the palace of his exact location, the Magi resumed their pilgrimage. The star, which they had seemingly “lost” as they first arrived at Jerusalem, reappeared and led them unerringly not just to Bethlehem, but to the very house where the Holy Family had taken up residence. Jesus was no longer a baby in a manger, but a child in a house.
Matthew 2:11–12 (ESV):
11 And going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh. 12 And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.
And, here, the Magi disappear from the record. What did they leave their homes to see? I wonder. The newborn King of the Jews is the answer given in the story, but why? Who cares about the Prime Minister of Andorra? What foreign dignitaries would come with such over-the-top gifts to mark his inauguration? Who cared about the King of the Jews, about a new King of the Jews? A new Caesar, yes; the birth a new son of Caesar would reverberate throughout the entire empire. But, a King of the Jews? Maybe a thirty-second segment on the 6 o’clock local news on a slow news day, but nothing more.
What did the Magi leave their homes to see? I wonder. And, did they know what they had seen when they had seen the child, when they had presented their gifts and had re-mounted their camels and slipped secretly and quietly out toward home? Were they satisfied or disappointed by what they found there? Apparently they did not know the Jewish scriptures in great detail, certainly neither the Psalms nor the Prophets. They came because of the star, but apparently not because of the Scriptures. But, it’s all there for those with eyes to see and ears to hear:
Psalm 72:9-11 (BCP 2019) 9 Those who dwell in the wilderness shall kneel before him; * his enemies shall lick the dust. 10 The kings of Tarshish and of the isles shall give presents; * the kings of Arabia and Seba shall bring gifts. 11 All kings shall fall down before him; * all nations shall do him service.
Isaiah 60:1–3, 6 (ESV): Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. 2 For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will be seen upon you. 3 And nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising.
6 A multitude of camels shall cover you, the young camels of Midian and Ephah; all those from Sheba shall come. They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall bring good news, the praises of the Lord.
Isaiah wrote his words of prophecy some seven centuries before the Magi set out to follow the star, wrote them about the return of Judah from Babylonian exile, wrote them about the future exaltation and glory of Judah in the sight of all the nations. And though neither Isaiah nor the Magi knew it, in the final sense the prophet wrote these words about Jesus and about the Magi themselves: about the star rising upon Jesus, about its glory seen over the place where he was, about the nations in the persons of these Magi coming to that light, about the three kings of the orient coming to the brightness of the rising of the Son of God. Here is the great mystery of God that neither Isaiah nor the Magi could have known: just as Jesus became Judah to fulfill God’s covenant purposes that all nations should be blessed through Abraham and his offspring— Jesus stood in Judah’s place to be faithful in their stead — so, too, the Magi became the nations, stood in their stead as the firstfruits of all faithful Gentiles who would one day bow before this King of the Jews, including you and me. Through the great mercy of God revealed to the prophet Isaiah, in the Magi we journey out of the deep darkness covering all the earth and come to the glory of the Lord in the face of Jesus, we bow before the new King of the Jews and present our offerings of gold, frankincense, and myrrh — of faith, hope, and love. If we do not let Jesus leave the manger — if the narrative gets stuck there — and if we do not let the Magi come to worship, then we exclude ourselves and all the nations from the story, then darkness still covers the earth, thick darkness over all peoples. Thanks be to God that Christmas is over and that Epiphany — the shining forth of the glory of God upon the nations — has come! The Magi came looking for the King of the Jews. They found their King, the King of the Nations, the King of all creation, the King of kings and Lord of lords.
Did the Magi understand all of that or any of that? T. S. Eliot imagined they did — at least a bit — in his poem Journey of the Magi (https://youtu.be/DagXUbTkuM4?si=tTVaHxlCUUJdWaml). Here is the last stanza, the recollection of one of the Magi, long since returned home:
All this was a long time ago, I remember, And I would do it again, but set down This set down This: were we led all that way for Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly We had evidence and no doubt. I had Seen birth and death, But had thought they were different this Birth was Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death. We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, With an alien people clutching their gods. I should be glad of another death.
Pilgrimage leaves the pilgrims changed. It is another, a different one, who returns home. Something has died on the way — often a hard and bitter agony — and something has been born. So, yes, the Magi went to see and to honor a birth. But in Jesus, birth and death are so closely intertwined that it is impossible to tease them apart. The birth the Magi came to honor was in service of the death to come, the death which saves the world. And make no mistake. T. S. Eliot was right about this: if we come with the Magi to the place where Jesus is, thinking to honor his birth, we will find our own death waiting for us there: a death to the world, the flesh, and the devil, a death to ourselves that leaves us “no longer at ease here among an alien people clutching their gods.” If we return home unchanged, we went as tourists and not as pilgrims. We found the new Kings of the Jews, but not our King.
There is an epilogue to this tale of the Magi, a dark ending. I would like to pass over it, but conscience will not allow; that would be faithless to God’s word and to you. When Herod had told the Magi to return and report the child’s exact location in Bethlehem, his intent was not to worship but to destroy. And when the Magi did not return with news, Herod was not dissuaded. If a surgical strike was no longer possible, then a genocide of sorts would have to do: kill all the male children two years old and under in Bethlehem; the Death of the Innocents we call it. Bethlehem was a small village so it is doubtful that many children were slaughtered to the gods of power and pride, but even one mother’s son is one too many.
Epiphany is a season of light, the manifestation of the glory of God to all peoples and all nations. This light will either illuminate you and make you holy, or else blind you and drive you mad. This glory will either bring you to your knees in worship like the Magi or stand you on your feet in defiance like Herod. Epiphany beckons us, not with a star but with the Holy Spirit, to our own pilgrimage of repentance, to our own obeisance before the King of the Jews, the King of all the nations. To kneel or to stand is our choice: glory or madness.
Epiphany is a season of light, yes, but light casts shadows when sin interposes. Herod sought to destroy the light, but he could not. A dream, a hasty flight to Egypt — God’s providence — saved the child and his parents. And so it is to this very day. The light still shines and shadows are still cast, but in the mysterious providence of God the darkness will not, cannot prevail.
John 1:1–5 (ESV):
1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
The Lord has shown forth his glory: O come, let us adore him.
First Blessings 