Sermon Synopses - 2008

Sermons at Trinity are usually ex tempore, that is done without notes...Please enjoy our "Sermon Synopses" or short summaries of sermons preached at Trinity

Link to Sermons Synopses for additional summaries available from this year.

Sermon for Wednesday, January 21, 2009
St. Agnes
Matthew 18:1-6

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” – Matt 18:3

“One of the characteristics for which children are known, and that we adults so often lack, is play.  More on that later…”

Todd told how moved he was by yesterday’s inauguration.  He was touched by how much evidence of hope he saw. 

Todd said how hope originates with us Christians, with what God has done for us in Jesus Christ.  And he said that, because of martyrs like Agnes and Fabian (yesterday’s feast) hope is in our DNA.  Think of the hope the martyrs must have had, to be willing to die for the faith!  Even though hope is in our DNA, hope is often a recessive trait.

Is there a connection between the golden age of the martyrs and the golden age of the catechumenate?  Todd thinks so.  The process of the catechumenate (forming disciples) was a process for bringing forth the recessive trait of hope, said Todd.  Like Mendel the monk patiently working with his peas, so the catechumenate patiently works with disciples to bring forth this recessive trait of hope, to make them agents of hope in a world starved for hope.

Todd pointed out how the new catechumenal process at Trinity – a process that in this first year will prepare the already baptized to make re-affirmation of their baptismal vows – works to bring forth hope.  We gather around scripture, prayer, testimony and sacraments – our “tools for hope,” Todd said.  And “at each of our sessions, we gather around several symbols of hope,” said Todd.  “We gather around a lit candle; it reminds us that we Christians are to be the lights of the world.  We gather around a bowl of salt; it reminds us that we Christians are to be the salt of the earth.”

“Now, back to the children…”  Hope is a playful thing.  So, too, at its best, is the catechumenate a playful thing, helping us learn to “play’ among the things of God.  Todd closed with the following poem from recently-deceased Cambridge poet Joan Erickson:

Hope

The word “hope” the learned say
is derived from the shorter one “Hop”
and leads one onto “Leap.”
Plato, in his turn, says that the leaping
of young creatures is the essence of play –
So be it!
To hope, then, means to take a playful leap
            Into the future –
to dare to spring from firm ground –
to play trustingly – invest energy, laughter;
And one good leap encourages another –
On then with the dance.

Sermon for Sunday, January 18, 2009
Second Sunday after the Epiphany
John 1:43-51

“Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree?  You will see greater things than these.” – John 1:50

There are men of few words, and there are men of a few thousand words.  St. Augustine was one of the latter.  He had much to say about many things, and he had something to say about today’s passage from the opening chapter of St. John’s gospel.

“What we have heard said by the Lord Jesus Christ to Nathanael, if we understand it aright, does not concern him only.  Our Lord Jesus saw the whole human race under the fig tree.”
 
Augustine recalls the last time somebody stood under a fig tree in the scriptures, in the opening chapters of Genesis, in the Garden of Eden.  Now, I know there was in the Garden of Eden a tree of life, a tree of the knowledge of good and evil, but I did not know that there was a fig tree.  But Augustine, that careful reader of the scriptures, noted that, after Adam and Eve had sinned and saw that they were naked, they sewed fig leaves together to cover themselves.  And what kind of tree would they have been standing other, if they had picked fig leaves to sew together?  Adam and Eve are symbolic for all humanity.

Do we not all stand under the fig tree, the place where we have met sin and guilt, even become acquainted with them, and seek to “cover up” and make ourselves presentable? 

What is the Good News?
Jesus’ response:  He sees us. 

He sees us.
Whereas the priest and the Levite saw but did not “see” the man whom robbers, stripped, beat and left half dead on the road to Jericho, Jesus is the Samaritan who truly sees us under the fig tree.  As was the Samaritan, Jesus is “moved with pity.”  He comes to us and bandages our wounds; he pours oil and wine on them.  As the Son was with the Father and heard the cry of the Israelites in Egypt and came to help them; as they saw the distress of the Israelites in the wilderness and rained down manna from heaven; as they looked upon the adversity of the Hebrews in exile in Babylon and sent prophets to be among them, so did Jesus see us “under the fig tree” and come to help us.

He saw us under the fig tree, and he because he saw us he came to dwell among us. And living among us, he came to know us.  He is the faithful high priest who has passed through the heavens, who shares our flesh and blood and is able to sympathize with us in our weakness.   He knows that, underneath our cover-up, we are good, created in the image of God.  He sees that at our best we are “without deceit.”  “These my people, they are worth my life.  I am willing to die, in order that they might live.”

One last step:  Resurrection. 
Jesus sees us in order that we may see.  “You will see greater things than these…  You will see angels… ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”  At once a look back to Jacob, and look forward to Mary Magdalene in the garden at the empty tomb.  Angels had just descended; Jesus is just ascending.  And we cannot grasp onto this Jesus; proper response is to go and tell others.

The Coming

And God held in his hand
A small globe.  Look, he said.
The son looked.
Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Color.  The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows; a bright
Serpent, a river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.

On a  bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky.  Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs.  The son watched
Them.  Let me go there, he said.

R.S. Thomas

Thank you, Lord, for seeing us under the fig tree.

Sermon for January 11, 2009
The Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord
Mark 1:4-11

Wouldn’t it be nice to have a parish dedicated to a real, live, flesh and blood saint, e.g., St. John, St. Paul or St. Mary?  We could take comfort in their companionship, we could be inspired by their example, we could form a charism (character) around their identity.  Instead, our parish’s dedication  is to an abstract theological doctrine.  And a complicated one at that!  How do we make sense of our dedication?  How can the Trinity be a source of inspiration and guidance for us? 

Of all the feasts of the church year that might help us appropriate the Trinity and make it real for us, the Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord is perhaps the most helpful – maybe even more helpful than Trinity Sunday.  The readings for today, and the theology and tradition that have grown up surrounding this feast, not only give a lot of “color” about the Trinity, but also show us a little bit about what the Trinity means for our lives.
 
Speaking of color, I ask that you please turn to the cover of today’s order of service.  On the cover of today’s order of service you will see an icon of the Baptism of Our Lord.  I am going to do a little “Sister Wendy” and walk you through this image.

First, a word about icons.  Iconographers speak not of painting icons, but of “writing” icons.  This is because the icon is seen to be a visual representation of scripture.  Icons that are written today look  almost identical to icons that were written centuries ago: just as one would not deign to change the words of scripture, neither do iconographers change the images of an icon.  (To those of us accustomed to modern notions of “art,” this may seem a little “paint by number.”  But originality is not the point.)

The icon grasps, in picture form, today’s gospel reading from Mark 1.  All the elements are there.  Here we see the unkempt John the Baptist on one bank, his right hand over Jesus’ head.  We see Jesus in the river Jordan, and a host of characters on the opposite bank.  Over Jesus is a blue circle, out of which descends a dove.  In the background are rough, jagged peaks of a wilderness.  In the water itself are two figures, one male, the other female. 

In the concise manner of which Mark is the master, all three persons of the Trinity are represented in today’s gospel lesson.  The Father is the one who speaks the voice – in the icon his presence is implied in the blue circle above.  (It is the same motif that we see in icons of the Nativity.)  The Son – the word made flesh – is Jesus.  And as you can see, well, you see his flesh.  Most icons of the baptism have Jesus stark naked to emphasize his humanity – God really did become like one of us “in every respect save sin.” This Jesus is more modest and wears a loincloth.  (Was it painted over later?)  The Holy Spirit is represented in the form of the dove, descending on Christ.  The whole Trinity is present at this event!  Note how the Father is the origin of the Spirit and the Son: both emanate from the Father above. This is classic theology on the Trinity.  And note how the Spirit is between the Father and the Son.  Again, classic theology on the Trinity describes the Spirit as passing between the Father and Son. 

If you look closely, you can see that the people on the bank opposite John are angels – presumably these are the angels that Mark says “waited on him.”  And the wilderness in the background is both the wilderness in which John appeared, as well as the wilderness into which the Spirit drove Jesus after his baptism.

This icon tells us something about what it means to be Christian.  Water is at once a symbol of death and of life – in water we drown, and in water we live before birth.  Here Jesus stands in the waters of the Jordan, waters that prefigure his death and resurrection.  The figures of the man and the woman on one level represent the river Jordan and the Red Sea, waters that the people of Israel had to cross as they moved from slavery in Egypt into the promised Land.  On another level, this man and this woman are all humanity.  All humanity has the possibility of sharing in the life of the Trinity.  In baptism, we stand in the waters with Christ, sharing in his death and resurrection, moving from death to life.  And the wilderness in the background?  Here is the “wilderness” that surrounds us and into which the Spirit drives us.  In this wilderness that surrounds us, we are tested, we are with “wild beasts,” and yet heaven is with us, the “angels wait on us.”

In a few minutes, we will renew our baptismal vows.  What is it that we do when we renew our baptismal vows?  One way of thinking about the renewal of baptismal vows is that, in renewing our baptismal vows we step into this picture.  In our baptism, and as we renew our baptism, we intentionally enter into the presence of the Trinity.  We step into the river with Christ, we step under the falling Spirit, we are beloved sons and daughters of the Father.  As we step into this picture, we are reminded that in or baptism we died with Christ in his death and were born again in his resurrection. We remember that we are driven away from this place of water and into the wilderness where we will be tested and with wild beasts, but that angels will wait on us.

Sermon for January 7, 2009

Matthew 4:12-17, 23-25

“From that time Jesus began to proclaim,
‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’”

“There is something about hearing the word ‘repent’ in the imperative that causes me to feel defensive,” said Todd. “And yet here is our Lord, with “Repent!” being the first word of his preaching ministry.”  Todd suggested that the word “repent” is in need of a makeover.  Todd offered the following:  “To repent is to be ready for something new.”

Todd noted that, in the eyes of first century Palestine, Jesus must have been something new.  As we hear in today’s gospel lesson, Jesus “cured every disease and every sickness among the people.”  But what about us, who do not live in first-century Palestine and are unable to see the new things Jesus did? 

Todd suggested that in this passage, we focus less on what Jesus did than on what the people did:  “They brought to him all the sick, those who were afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs… etc.”  “Each of us has in our life things that are broken, fallen and grown old,” said Todd, “and we can bring these to Christ.”  “When we bring these to Christ, we acknowledge that we are ready for something new.”  Or, to use the old word, we “repent.”

Sermon for Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Feast of the Epiphany

“We celebrate Christmas to remember the birth of Christ,” said Todd, “and we celebrate Christmas every year because Christ is still being born among us.”  We celebrate Easter because Christ was raised from the dead, and we celebrate Easter every year because Christ’s work of resurrection is ongoing.  Likewise our celebration of Epiphany remembers Christ’s manifestation to the world, and we celebrate Epiphany every year because Christ continues to manifest himself in our lives.

How is Christ seeking to manifest himself to you?  Todd said that only we could know the answer to that question.  He suggested that the three stories we celebrate on Epiphany might help us discover how Christ is seeking to reveal himself to us:  1)  The story of the Magi – As the Magi journeyed, so is our discovery of Christ’s revelation a journey.  2)  The Baptism of Christ – Baptism is initiation into a community; the journey of revelation is something we do not do alone.  And it is humbling.  (Augustine – the reason Jesus was baptized by John was to offer us an example of humility.)  3)  The wedding at Cana – Jesus’ revelation to us is not at all practical, but extravagant, like great wine in abundance.  And did the guests even know the wine had run out?  Were they too drunk, and only Jesus’ mother and the steward noticed?

Todd said that, as he looks back at his life and the ways the Christ continues to reveal himself to him, he said that there is at least one thing that fit the above:  the experience of forgiveness.  “As we are on the journey, as we are faithful to being in community with others, we will time and again be brought into occasions for forgiveness.  Forgiveness is humbling; it is extravagant; and sometimes we didn’t even know how much we needed it until after the fact.”  Todd wondered if, as we seek to uncover the ways in which Christ is seeking to reveal himself to us, we might discover that Christ’s epiphany to us has to do with forgiveness.

Sermon for January 4, 2009
Christmas 2
Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23

Todd began with a story about his early days of parenting, about how an older woman, a cashier, when he was with his infant son at the grocery store, told him, “Remember these days.  They go so quickly!”  Todd said the same of the infant Jesus and the twelve days of Christmas, “Remember these days.  They go so quickly!”

It is important to remember the infant Christ, said Todd, because our picture of the Christ is incomplete without Jesus as infant.  The image of Jesus as infant can be helpful for us in our Christian journey in at least two ways:  1)  The image of mothering the Word.  So often we hear about hearing, learning, doing, studying following, obeying the Word.  Perhaps a more helpful image would be “mothering” the Word.  “Mothering” the Word means to take the Word and care for it, tend it, and nurture it so that it can grow and flourish.  The Word cannot live within us without our help.  2) The image of mother and infant.  The image of Mary and the infant Jesus is a simple yet profound image to return to when the faith is difficult.  So much of the Christian faith is not easily understood:  concept of sin, Jesus’ miracles, God as Trinity of persons.  So much of this world is not easily understood:  Why does God allow evil? Why do we suffer?  Todd told the story of a mother of three who said she did not have time for Christianity, but that she could understand the icons of the Virgin Mary with the infant Jesus on her lap.  “That makes sense to me,” she said.  In a similar way, this image can be a touchstone for us, helping us grasp in a nutshell what the faith is all about.

Todd closed with recalling the Natalie Merchant song, “These are the days you’ll remember” and urged us to remember these days of the Christ as an infant; they go so quickly.  “The days will come soon enough when Christ the adult will ask us to make adult choices and to take on adult responsibilities.  For now, in the last two days of Christmas, remember Christ the infant.”  This is the Word that asks to be taken in and nurtured, this is the image of mother with child that tells so much about God and us.  As we take in the infant Christ, it can be “true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.”

Sermon for January 1, 2009
The Feast of the Holy Name
Exodus 34:1-8

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