Candlemas 2014: The stone of prohibition

Preached at St Paul's Cathedral, Candlemas 2014

The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to His temple.

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

Back in 2009, the 20s30s group organized and led a trip to Toronto, and we were joined by a large number of other St Paul’s Cathedral parishioners, Episcopalians from other parishes, and it was also a great way to evangelize, as many non-Episcopalian friends joined us, too.

The purpose of our trip to Toronto was not to see a show, or to go shopping (though we made a stop for that), it was to journey together to the Royal Ontario Museum and see the exhibit there of the Dead Sea Scrolls, uncovered in caves in the 1940s and 50s in the West Bank, and the earliest-known manuscripts of Sacred Scripture and other religious documents.  Among these manuscripts, the oldest are from the fifth century BC, and the newest are from the time of the First Jewish-Roman War, which culminated in the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD.

As you can imagine, seeing documents of Scripture that have survived for 2,500 years was awe-inspiring, and the beauty of the fragments is hard to describe.  The exhibit itself was set up as a winding corridor that doubled back on itself, something like a piece of ribbon candy, so that the crowds were constantly moving and so nothing was missed.  That meant that there were a number of corner turns that would bring visitors into a new hall filled with priceless treasures opening before them.

Along with the scrolls, there was a collection of other items excavated from the West Bank and surrounding areas.  It was approaching one of the galleries holding those artifacts that we turned a corner. That is one corner I turned that I will never forget.  A corner that, in my life, can never be unturned.

Around that corner, what opened up in front of us was a display containing two fairly large building stones.  They were beautifully cut stone, and the first had an indent in the back of it.  That indent was a place for a man to stand, and carved inside the niche in Hebrew were the words: To the place of trumpeting.  This was the actual parapet stone of the Temple where a trumpeter announced the call to prayer.  Next to it was a smaller stone, and unlike the trumpeting stone, this one had a Greek inscription.  It seemed odd to me that there would be a Greek inscription in the Temple, until I read the translation:

NO FOREIGNER

IS TO GO BEYOND THE BALUSTRADE

AND THE PLAZA OF THE TEMPLE ZONE

WHOEVER IS CAUGHT DOING SO

WILL HAVE HIMSELF TO BLAME

FOR HIS DEATH

WHICH WILL FOLLOW

This stone marked the point past which no Gentile could go.  There, lying before us in the Royal Ontario Museum, were the worn stone from which a Levite trumpeted out the call to all listening to enter the Temple, and the stone of prohibition forbidding the entry of any Gentile, a stone under which, it is possible, St Joseph, The Blessed Virgin, and the Christ Child walked as they entered the Temple.

The events of our celebration today, recorded in St Luke’s Gospel, are likely familiar to us, and the words of Simeon we heard are likely very familiar, as they are prayed every evening in Anglican churches and homes across the world.

There were two laws that God gave to Moses on Mt Sinai and recorded in the Book of Leviticus that needed to be fulfilled on this day, 40 days after Christ’s birth.  The Blessed Virgin, safely delivered from childbirth, was required to present herself in thanksgiving for the birth of her child, and to be ritually purified.  Also, as Jesus was her firstborn son, the child himself was required to be presented in the Temple 40 days after his birth and an offering made.  St Luke records the Holy Family fulfilling the Law, and he notes that their offering was two turtledoves: the option of two turtledoves in Leviticus is given for a family too poor to purchase a sacrificial lamb.

We hear further in St Luke’s record that Simeon has been promised that he would not die before seeing the Redeemer, and when the Holy Family approaches the Temple, Simeon calls out to them, takes the child in his arms, and tells them that the Holy Spirit had spoken to him and that now he could die, as he was blessed to hold in his arms the child who was promised as the light to the Gentiles and to be the glory of the people of Israel.  Anna was also present, St Luke writes, and the Holy Spirit inspires her to proclaim the news to all who were awaiting the redemption of Israel.  Only a few yards from the stone barring any gentile upon pain of death, the Holy Spirit calls out that this child is to be their light.

 

Just like several weeks ago when we celebrated the Feast of the Holy Name on January 1, today’s feast day has a number of names.  In our Prayer Book, it is called the Presentation of Our Lord Jesus Christ.  It has historically also been referred to as the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin, and more commonly as Candlemas, referring to the blessing of candles which traditionally occurred at today’s Eucharist.

But in the East, this feast has a different title: The Meeting of Our Lord in the Temple.

It may seem like, at first, that the Orthodox title for today is about the meeting between Simeon, Anna, and the Holy Family.  However, the title refers to a different Meeting.  It refers to the Meeting between God the Father, whose presence is marked by the Ark of the Covenant residing in the Temple, God the Son, swaddled and nurtured by a family too poor to buy a sacrificial lamb, and God the Holy Spirit, inspiring Blessed Simeon and Blessed Anna to begin spreading the message of redemption.  This is a Meeting of the Blessed Trinity, just as at the Baptism of Our Lord when a voice thundered from the Heavens and the Holy Spirit descended as a dove.

The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to His temple.

So, what we celebrate today is the Meeting of the Blessed Trinity in the Temple. And we witness the Christ, God come among us as man, being ushered into the presence of God the Father and God the Holy Spirit.  But, in this Meeting of the Trinity, there’s a change now, isn’t there?

For now, through Christ, humanity is wrapped into the Trinity.  Now, all the work of God in the world and all of the work of humanity in the world are intertwined.  Before, God gave the Law on tablets on the slopes of Mt Sinai, wreathed in fire and smoke.  Those same tablets were held in the Ark of the Covenant in the Temple, the Ark where God dwelt among his people.  Now, in Christ, God again enters the Temple, and God declares that all nations are now folded into the Blessed Trinity, for, in Christ, God will be a light to the Gentiles and the glory of Israel.

In the feast today, we see the beginning of the replacement of sacrifice in the Jerusalem Temple with the sacrifice in Christ, the new Temple.  Through Simeon, the Holy Spirit speaks of the Passion when he calls Christ a sign to be contradicted and when he tells the Blessed Virgin that a sword will pierce her heart.  Christ himself will predict the temple's destruction, and its replacement with his resurrected body only a few days before he enters into His Passion.

The author Max Lucado has called Christ the hinge on which the door of history swings, and we begin to see some of that swing here in the Meeting in the Temple.  In the shifting of the Temple from being a building in Jerusalem to being Christ himself, we sense that nothing will ever be the same.  No longer with a lamb will we give back to God what we have been given, but through loving our neighbors as ourselves do we show God's might and power.  In the temple, created things were offered to the inaccessible God: grain, doves, lambs.  In the new temple of the resurrected Christ, no longer are created things offered, but it is the Creator himself who we lift up to heaven in sacrifice, hidden under the appearance of bread and wine.

And not only the Creator is offered up in the Eucharist, but we are, as well.  Remembering that in Christ, humanity and divinity are wedded together and all of us are welcomed into the life of the Trinity, we remember this in our liturgy. 

You may notice each Sunday a quiet whispered prayer at the altar.  During the part of our celebration of the Eucharist when the chalice is prepared and the gifts are offered, you may notice the deacon whispering.  At the preparation of the chalice, the deacon first pours in wine, and then a little bit of water, with the words: Lord, by the mingling of this water and wine, may we come to share in the divinity of Christ, as he humbled Himself to share in our humanity. 

In Christ's Incarnation and birth at Christmas, in the meeting of the Blessed Trinity in the Temple, in the liturgy and our celebration of the Eucharist, we are mingled with divinity, we are also mixed in and consecrated as the Body of Christ.

Today, we will baptize Callum James Pariseau into the Body of Christ.  And we will remember that we are welcomed into that Body through our baptism, through our reception of the life of grace and through our promises to turn from the sin of the world into which we were born.  We are baptized into a Church that strives to include all of humanity, to finally knock down the stone of prohibition that might bar some from entering into the Temple.  That work of including all is work done in the world through love, kindness, and acts of service.  We no longer carry turtle doves in as a thank offering, but baskets of food to pantries out in our communities.  We no longer center around a building as a place where God resides, but go out into the world to find him, to find him mingled with the strangers and the friends all around us.

We are baptized into and profess a faith in one, holy, catholic and apostolic church.  We are not baptized into and do not profess a faith in one, Upjohn, Medina sandstone church.  In baptism, we are mingled with God and, therefore, we are also to be a light to the Gentiles and the glory of Israel.  In baptism, tribalism is put to death, and the world is opened for the grace of Christ, and we are sent to bring it to others.

In baptism, we profess a faith in a body of Christ that has us as its members.  We profess a faith in a body of Christ that lives to bring others into life with the Trinity.  We do not profess a faith of isolationism.  We are not baptized into just one particular parish, just St Paul's Cathedral, but into the mystical body, and we are sent out to be the body Christ needs us to be in the world. 

We do not exist, St Paul's Cathedral does not exist, to serve and minister to itself.  Our altars are erected to inspire, sustain and feed us so that we carry the Trinity out into the world Christ redeemed through his incarnation, his meeting in the temple, and his passion.  Our altars are not for our own glory and edification, are not bulwarks against an encroaching world.  We are baptized into a life outside of these walls, outside of these brief hours on Sunday, baptized into a life in the new temple formed of Christ's own body, a temple formed of homeless children, students, professionals, the mentally ill, the lost and the lonely.  Do not look inside these walls for the temple.  Look to those in need, so that, in you, through you,

The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to His temple.

Amen

Candlemas 2014: the stone of prohibition

The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to His temple.

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

Back in 2009, the 20s30s group organized and led a trip to Toronto, and we were joined by a large number of other St Paul’s Cathedral parishioners, Episcopalians from other parishes, and it was also a great way to evangelize, as many non-Episcopalian friends joined us, too.

The purpose of our trip to Toronto was not to see a show, or to go shopping (though we made a stop for that), it was to journey together to the Royal Ontario Museum and see the exhibit there of the Dead Sea Scrolls, uncovered in caves in the 1940s and 50s in the West Bank, and the earliest-known manuscripts of Sacred Scripture and other religious documents.  Among these manuscripts, the oldest are from the fifth century BC, and the newest are from the time of the First Jewish-Roman War, which culminated in the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD.

As you can imagine, seeing documents of Scripture that have survived for 2,500 years was awe-inspiring, and the beauty of the fragments is hard to describe.  The exhibit itself was set up as a winding corridor that doubled back on itself, something like a piece of ribbon candy, so that the crowds were constantly moving and so nothing was missed.  That meant that there were a number of corner turns that would bring visitors into a new hall filled with priceless treasures opening before them.

Along with the scrolls, there was a collection of other items excavated from the West Bank and surrounding areas.  It was approaching one of the galleries holding those artifacts that we turned a corner. That is one corner I turned that I will never forget.  A corner that, in my life, can never be unturned.

Around that corner, what opened up in front of us was a display containing two fairly large building stones.  They were beautifully cut stone, and the first had an indent in the back of it.  That indent was a place for a man to stand, and carved inside the niche in Hebrew were the words: To the place of trumpeting.  This was the actual parapet stone of the Temple where a trumpeter announced the call to prayer.  Next to it was a smaller stone, and unlike the trumpeting stone, this one had a Greek inscription.  It seemed odd to me that there would be a Greek inscription in the Temple, until I read the translation:

NO FOREIGNER

IS TO GO BEYOND THE BALUSTRADE

AND THE PLAZA OF THE TEMPLE ZONE

WHOEVER IS CAUGHT DOING SO

WILL HAVE HIMSELF TO BLAME

FOR HIS DEATH

WHICH WILL FOLLOW

This stone marked the point past which no Gentile could go.  There, lying before us in the Royal Ontario Museum, were the worn stone from which a Levite trumpeted out the call to all listening to enter the Temple, and the stone of prohibition forbidding the entry of any Gentile, a stone under which, it is possible, St Joseph, The Blessed Virgin, and the Christ Child walked as they entered the Temple.

The events of our celebration today, recorded in St Luke’s Gospel, are likely familiar to us, and the words of Simeon we heard are likely very familiar, as they are prayed every evening in Anglican churches and homes across the world.

There were two laws that God gave to Moses on Mt Sinai and recorded in the Book of Leviticus that needed to be fulfilled on this day, 40 days after Christ’s birth.  The Blessed Virgin, safely delivered from childbirth, was required to present herself in thanksgiving for the birth of her child, and to be ritually purified.  Also, as Jesus was her firstborn son, the child himself was required to be presented in the Temple 40 days after his birth and an offering made.  St Luke records the Holy Family fulfilling the Law, and he notes that their offering was two turtledoves: the option of two turtledoves in Leviticus is given for a family too poor to purchase a sacrificial lamb.

We hear further in St Luke’s record that Simeon has been promised that he would not die before seeing the Redeemer, and when the Holy Family approaches the Temple, Simeon calls out to them, takes the child in his arms, and tells them that the Holy Spirit had spoken to him and that now he could die, as he was blessed to hold in his arms the child who was promised as the light to the Gentiles and to be the glory of the people of Israel.  Anna was also present, St Luke writes, and the Holy Spirit inspires her to proclaim the news to all who were awaiting the redemption of Israel.  Only a few yards from the stone barring any gentile upon pain of death, the Holy Spirit calls out that this child is to be their light.

Just like several weeks ago when we celebrated the Feast of the Holy Name on January 1, today’s feast day has a number of names.  In our Prayer Book, it is called the Presentation of Our Lord Jesus Christ.  It has historically also been referred to as the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin, and more commonly as Candlemas, referring to the blessing of candles which traditionally occurred at today’s Eucharist.

But in the East, this feast has a different title: The Meeting of Our Lord in the Temple.

It may seem like, at first, that the Orthodox title for today is about the meeting between Simeon, Anna, and the Holy Family.  However, the title refers to a different Meeting.  It refers to the Meeting between God the Father, whose presence is marked by the Ark of the Covenant residing in the Temple, God the Son, swaddled and nurtured by a family too poor to buy a sacrificial lamb, and God the Holy Spirit, inspiring Blessed Simeon and Blessed Anna to begin spreading the message of redemption.  This is a Meeting of the Blessed Trinity, just as at the Baptism of Our Lord when a voice thundered from the Heavens and the Holy Spirit descended as a dove.

The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to His temple.

So, what we celebrate today is the Meeting of the Blessed Trinity in the Temple. And we witness the Christ, God come among us as man, being ushered into the presence of God the Father and God the Holy Spirit.  But, in this Meeting of the Trinity, there’s a change now, isn’t there?

For now, through Christ, humanity is wrapped into the Trinity.  Now, all the work of God in the world and all of the work of humanity in the world are intertwined.  Before, God gave the Law on tablets on the slopes of Mt Sinai, wreathed in fire and smoke.  Those same tablets were held in the Ark of the Covenant in the Temple, the Ark where God dwelt among his people.  Now, in Christ, God again enters the Temple, and God declares that all nations are now folded into the Blessed Trinity, for, in Christ, God will be a light to the Gentiles and the glory of Israel.

In the feast today, we see the beginning of the replacement of sacrifice in the Jerusalem Temple with the sacrifice in Christ, the new Temple.  Through Simeon, the Holy Spirit speaks of the Passion when he calls Christ a sign to be contradicted and when he tells the Blessed Virgin that a sword will pierce her heart.  Christ himself will predict the temple's destruction, and its replacement with his resurrected body only a few days before he enters into His Passion.

The author Max Lucado has called Christ the hinge on which the door of history swings, and we begin to see some of that swing here in the Meeting in the Temple.  In the shifting of the Temple from being a building in Jerusalem to being Christ himself, we sense that nothing will ever be the same.  No longer with a lamb will we give back to God what we have been given, but through loving our neighbors as ourselves do we show God's might and power.  In the temple, created things were offered to the inaccessible God: grain, doves, lambs.  In the new temple of the resurrected Christ, no longer are created things offered, but it is the Creator himself who we lift up to heaven in sacrifice, hidden under the appearance of bread and wine.

And not only the Creator is offered up in the Eucharist, but we are, as well.  Remembering that in Christ, humanity and divinity are wedded together and all of us are welcomed into the life of the Trinity, we remember this in our liturgy. 

You may notice each Sunday a quiet whispered prayer at the altar.  During the part of our celebration of the Eucharist when the chalice is prepared and the gifts are offered, you may notice the deacon whispering.  At the preparation of the chalice, the deacon first pours in wine, and then a little bit of water, with the words: Lord, by the mingling of this water and wine, may we come to share in the divinity of Christ, as he humbled Himself to share in our humanity. 

In Christ's Incarnation and birth at Christmas, in the meeting of the Blessed Trinity in the Temple, in the liturgy and our celebration of the Eucharist, we are mingled with divinity, we are also mixed in and consecrated as the Body of Christ.

Today, we will baptize Callum James Pariseau into the Body of Christ.  And we will remember that we are welcomed into that Body through our baptism, through our reception of the life of grace and through our promises to turn from the sin of the world into which we were born.  We are baptized into a Church that strives to include all of humanity, to finally knock down the stone of prohibition that might bar some from entering into the Temple.  That work of including all is work done in the world through love, kindness, and acts of service.  We no longer carry turtle doves in as a thank offering, but baskets of food to pantries out in our communities.  We no longer center around a building as a place where God resides, but go out into the world to find him, to find him mingled with the strangers and the friends all around us.

We are baptized into and profess a faith in one, holy, catholic and apostolic church.  We are not baptized into and do not profess a faith in one, Upjohn, Medina sandstone church.  In baptism, we are mingled with God and, therefore, we are also to be a light to the Gentiles and the glory of Israel.  In baptism, tribalism is put to death, and the world is opened for the grace of Christ, and we are sent to bring it to others.

In baptism, we profess a faith in a body of Christ that has us as its members.  We profess a faith in a body of Christ that lives to bring others into life with the Trinity.  We do not profess a faith of isolationism.  We are not baptized into just one particular parish, just St Paul's Cathedral, but into the mystical body, and we are sent out to be the body Christ needs us to be in the world. 

We do not exist, St Paul's Cathedral does not exist, to serve and minister to itself.  Our altars are erected to inspire, sustain and feed us so that we carry the Trinity out into the world Christ redeemed through his incarnation, his meeting in the temple, and his passion.  Our altars are not for our own glory and edification, are not bulwarks against an encroaching world.  We are baptized into a life outside of these walls, outside of these brief hours on Sunday, baptized into a life in the new temple formed of Christ's own body, a temple formed of homeless children, students, professionals, the mentally ill, the lost and the lonely.  Do not look inside these walls for the temple.  Look to those in need, so that, in you, through you,

The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to His temple.

Amen

Calling of St Andrew, Jan 19

Preached at St Andrew's Church, Buffalo, NY

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

As a kid growing up in the 80s with two older sisters, there was a sound in the house that could make any of the three of us jump up and run: the telephone ringing.  Of course, since it was the 80s, the phones were mounted to the wall and were connected to the base with a cord, and everyone in our family shared one single phone number, so we often answered a call that was for one of our siblings, or for our parents. 

Now, none of us have a land line, and every single one of us has our own number.  Now, there’s no chance we could answer a call that was intended for someone else in the family.  And, actually, none of us call very often.  In fact, the only person who actually ever calls me on the phone is my mother!  

Now we text, just like everyone else.

But, calls used to be different; just like back in the 80s, sometimes calls were placed to an entire family.

We heard in the Gospel this morning about the call of the brothers Andrew and Simon Peter.  

Originally a follower of John the Baptist, Andrew overheard the scene that is recorded in the Gospel: John the Baptist, as he is among his followers, points to Christ and calls him the Lamb of God, and then John reminds everyone of the scene we hard in last week’s Gospel: the descent of the Holy Spirit and the voice of God the Father when Christ came to John for baptism in the Jordan.  We also hear Christ’s invitation, his call to Andrew.  Christ tells Andrew: come and see.

In the Greek Church, St Andrew is known by a very important title.  He is revered with the name Protokletos.  Protokletos, meaning, the first-called.  Andrew is the first of the Apostles whom Christ calls to follow him.  The sense of being called is so important, that we remember who was called first.  And we place the Gospel about the calling of Andrew in the Epiphany season, because it ties in with the message for this time of the year: all around us, God is revealing Himself and calling us to come and see.

You may have picked up on this theme in the Gospel readings during the season of Epiphany, and you might remember the Gospel selections for other years for the season, too.  Each Gospel during the season is a small Epiphany: we hear of the Magi visiting the Christ Child, we hear of the miraculous voice and dove at the baptism of Christ, the Transfiguration, the miracle at the wedding at Cana, the call of Andrew and Simon Peter.  The reason that these events are all used in our Gospel selection in the season, is because in each of them, God is revealing that he has come among us in Christ.  The word epiphany is derived from the Greek words meaning to show forth, to reveal.

One of the challenges when we hear these Gospels is how different they seem from our daily lives, from the lives we find ourselves experiencing.  We likely don’t hear the voice of God from the clouds tell us to pay attention to something.  Our lives don’t typically include a direct call from Jesus to drop everything and follow him.  But, remember that Epiphanytide comes right on the heels of Christmas.  Remember that we have heard the good news proclaimed to us: God is among us and the world is forever interrupted by God being among us, by being incarnate as one of us.  After Christmas, the miraculous and the mundane are wedded together.  And so, even though we do not experience God’s epiphanies in miraculous ways like the apostles did, we are still living in the same incarnational reality: God is among us in a deep and radical way and God is revealing himself in our world.

In one of the Eucharistic Prayers is included the petition: Deliver us from the presumption of coming to the Table for solace only, not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal.  Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in His name. 

This idea, the idea that our gathering together, that the grace Christ offers us when we receive the Eucharist is meant not just for us but as a way to change the world should profoundly affect the way we think of the rest of our week.  In our time here, on Sunday morning, we hear the same call that Christ offered to Andrew: Come and see.  And we can also answer in the same way Andrew answered when we leave the doors and go out into the world: through acts of love that transport our celebration of the Eucharist out into the world that so desperately needs love, reconciliation, and compassion.

The call we hear now is the same as what Andrew heard, but it shows up in a different way: we hear a call to come and see Christ among those in our communities who have nobody to visit them, or nobody to shovel their driveway, nobody to talk to.  We hear the call to come and see Jesus by extending ourselves in hospitality in our neighborhoods, by opening our doors and resources to those who have no place to shelter, or no safe place to live.  We are called to come and see when the sign in front of our church welcomes all to come in, when we invite a friend to join us to hear the proclamation of the Gospel.

Christ tells us to come and see him through those around us.

It is not often in miraculous ways that Christ now reveals himself to us, and not in moments like in the Jordan that the voice of God calls out to us.  Now, the revealing, the epiphany, is in the eyes of those most in need in our community.

We celebrate Andrew for being the first called, but it’s really a part of celebrating him as the first who answered the call.  And how he answered the call is so similar to how we answer our calls.  Andrew went and listened to Christ, then told his brother.  We don’t hear him answering the call by opening up an orphanage, we don’t hear him going out and baptizing the heathen children, we don’t hear him going out and selling everything and preaching on the street corners wearing sackcloth.  We hear that he told his brother:  We have found the Messiah.

Now, of course, Andrew would go on to do amazing things, preaching and teaching, bringing foreign Gentiles to meet Jesus, and eventually, even giving his life in witness to that first call we heard about today.  But the answer to his call started small: he told someone he loved about what he experienced in Christ.

There may be days, rare days, when we could be called to answer heroically.  But, most often, like the Gospel about Andrew today, we answer the call in small ways.  We answer by striving to be our best selves, by being patient with impatient people, or by posting on Facebook about how grateful we are for a good day.  These are the same as Andrew witnessing to Peter about what he found in Christ.  We can say and show what we have found in Christ through our words about him and our kindness toward others.

The Mass each week concludes with the dismissal: Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord.

Today, when you respond to the dismissal, remember that you are being called by Christ to take what you have found in Him out to others who need the love He has given to us.

Amen.