Unforgiveable: Blaspheme of the Holy Spirit

(a homily)

There are perhaps no words for me that ring as mysterious, humbling, and troubling than Christ's words heard today. "Amen, I say to you, all sins and all blasphemes that people utter will be forgiven them. But whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an everlasting sin." Such a pronouncement weighs heavily on my heart. It arouses a great flurry of questions and things to contemplate. What exactly is this blaspheming against the Holy Spirit? Is it a denial of the Spirit's power? Is it primarily related to the work of Christ as might be gleaned from the wider context of the passage in which he is said to drive out demons? Is it something that post-Enlightenment Christianity is guilty of by default? After all, it seems that the Spirit has been ignored by much of the Western Church, even though at times we can see with the eyes of faith that the Holy Spirit has moved in various movements in recent centuries.

Something leads me to think that perhaps one of the central issues here is the greater matter of authority. Jesus chides his misguided critics because they are unwilling or unable to recognize the source of his authority, and in so doing they deny God. Jesus was "offended" by their rumors because they sought to make him look to be one who conjured an evil spirit in order to mislead people by by crooked power, that is Beelzebub was a power-hungry spirit. However, the source of Jesus' strength was his humble submission to the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of Life who is sent by the Father. The scribes in saying Jesus' ability to exercise demons was given by the prince of demons did violence to the understanding of the very essence of the Triune God, the One God in Three Persons who continually and perfectly love and submit to one another.

We to do violence to God and ourselves when we deny the life giving Spirit. Perhaps we are tempted to do so because we observe various church movements that certainly abuse the mystery of the Holy Spirit for their own attempts at gaining and maintaining power and wealth. Or perhaps we ignore the call to wait and pray in silence for God. But let us be thankful, for here as we worship together, God invites us to be touched by the Holy Spirit, even to enter into the mysteries of the Godhead as we eat bread and drink wine that is blessed and transformed by the very Spirit, that is God, to be the Body and Blood of Christ. See, here we are able to focus on the source of any authority, in earth and in heaven, that may be enjoined to us, that is, love and submission to God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Let us wait and pray for the manifestation of that loving power of the Holy Spirit among us and in so waiting and receiving the blessed sacrament we can go and with Christ continue to the Gospel ministry in service to the Father. Amen.

(2 Samuel 5:1-7, 10; Psalm 89; Mark 3:22-30)

Obedience Relearned

(a homily)

Why do we do the things we do? We'd probably like to a reasoned account for our daily ways of being, perhaps more accurately an answer aimed at justifying ourselves. "I do this because of that, because of so and so, and so on and so forth." There exists a plethora of reasons for anything that needs to be reasoned. We've got systems of thought at our fingertips to get ourselves through almost anything. And yet do these accounts, these reasoned apologetics, offer us any hope of salvation?

The lessons today seem to point to something beyond giving an account, something beyond our beloved Reason. Obedience. The word makes us shudder. It's chíc to be a rebel. It's expected that at some point you won't take heed of some authority figure's word, be it your mom or dad, or the principle. It's part of growing up. Rules are there to be broken. Yet, the law of the land, we're told, keeps everything from going up in flames.

We're told so many storied about obedience throughout our lives that it seems silly, stupid, impossible, pointless. And, in all honesty, I think I would in many instances agree with such sentiment. But not with the obedience we hear of today. This is the kind of obedience that overcomes the fearful law-abiding of national citizenship. It is the kind that enters into a purer way of being, one of sacrifice, of praise. Its focus, its center is on the Triune God, the Father Almighty, the Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, the Holy Spirit, the giver of life. This obedience transforms the one obedient; we are made free, not afraid. (The law of the nations are sustained only by fear. Love is not in the picture.) We must relearn obedience, come to recognize that it is a right response to the perfect love of a God who sees all we do and stills loves us.

We learn this obedience here, together in worship, in the presence of God and God's people at Christ's table. We are made able to follow by the Holy Spirit who transforms our meal, quiets our hearts, bids us to wait and listen. I would not venture to say that God is without reason for bringing us here, but to us such reason is mysterious. Such a wine as God's Spirit requires that we be made new to receive the fruit of such a vine. Let us now be humbled and recognize who we truly are in the light of God's mercy and love. God will put praise on our lips that we may go in the right way and see the salvation of the Lord.

(1 Samuel 15:16-23; Psalm 50; Mark 2:18-22)

Enough

(a homily)

God is enough. God's call is plenty. Faithfully following God, heeding the Word is hard.

Though all grace has been offered, though our lives have been given us by God, inevitably life will at times be unbearable. There may be clear reasons why something is wrong; at other times it will be a mystery. Nonetheless, this gift of life will on occasion, even for long seasons feel as a curse. Like Hannah the Ephriamite, we will loose our appetite, our will to bear the stress that others, circumstance, and the plain evil in the world places on us.

In these times we must remember God is enough. God's call is plenty. God says to us, "Am I not more to you than anything you could ever determine to be that which makes you worthy?" And does not Christ call us to the shore, bidding us to leave our perceived task, our comfortable homes, our burdensome professions and follow? This, even in our weakness, our despair, ought to replenish our appetites if they have been diminished. And if our lives are fine today let us be thankful, and out of the abundance God has blessed us with offer ourselves in service to our downtrodden brothers and sisters.

We can never fully return to God the good things we have received. But we can follow God's command to take up the cup of salvation to our lips. Let us be filled today with God's comfort, God's blessing, God's most Holy Spirit.

(1 Samuel 1:1-8, Psalm 116, Mark 1:14-20)

The Storm to Unknow

Turbulent waters
from the side of a silent mountain,
look like ripples,
like crashing tidal waves,
like monsoons,
like contingency,
look like calm.
You see what they see,
and you will walk alongside,
you will walk by,
walk in love,
looking ahead
from above and below.
You see better
and ask us to close our eyes
to view from your quiet.
No one has ever seen,
but love,
here is sight,
truest salvation.
And the sea storm
is no cause for fear,
but a moment for unknowing.

(1 John 4:11-18, Psalm 72, Mark 6:45-52)

A Paradoxical Kingdom

(a homily)

"Repent for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand."

The Kingdom. It is Spirit and it is physical. It is, in a word, Jesus. It is repentance and grace.

It is Gentile and Jew, man and woman.

It is sickness cured, enemies reconciled, the poor sustained.

It reaches the darkest regions imaginable, the ends of the earth. It is preaching, teaching, confessing, listening, praying. It is all we have.

It is God's work and it is our gift. It is our work and it is what we present to the world. It is truth and it has conquered falsity.

It is justice and it is mercy.

It overcomes adversity and yet it patiently bears persecution. It is "yes" and it is is "no."

It is the most profound silence and the the most beautiful chord.

It is understanding and it alludes understanding. It is word and it is deed, contemplation and action. It is fasting and it is a great feast. It is bread and it is wine.

It cannot be defined and it is the only reality with meaning.

It is overwhelming and the greatest calm.

It is love.

"Repent for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand."

(First weekday of Epiphany, 1 John 3:22–4:6, Psalm 2, Matthew 4:12-17, 23-25)

Hebel - Abel

Hebel*,
I am a void to be found,
a death to be lived,
a love to be resided in.
Do I know myself?
Have I lived long enough
before slain by a brother,
proved a breath,
a bit of dust
blown in twirls by the wind?
I feel the quake--
when I am listening
--of judgment
meant to release
when lived through,
when swallowed
and presented to absurd trust.
Upon the ridge of despair
I prepare to recite
the Jubilate.**
Should we admit
the desire to see spectacles?
Yes, and so we will,
if only to shake them off,
to let go of our name,
our nation,
our pretension,
our visions of light
actually blindness.
I am meaningless
and so have meaning;
you will kill me
and I will have meaning.
For I am giving up,
and will leave to return new.

(1 John 3:11-21, Psalm 100, John 1:43-51)

*Hebrew. Means "meaningless," "vanity, "void," "breath," perhaps even in the sense of Albert Camus "absurd" (ex. Ecclesiastes 1:2f.). Though it is not from the same root, Abel, the first son of Adam and Eve slain by his brother Cain, has a name that sounds the same in Hebrew. Poetically, this serves for us to consider our own beings.
**Psalm 100

To Be Translated

Sometimes, probably often if we're honest, we need things to be translated for us. Not simply words of different languages, but concepts, gestures, activities. This can be frustrating because we must reconcile with the fact that we don't understand everything, perhaps very little, whereas we're probably heard from various sources out whole lives that understanding, mentally grasping things is possible. The readings this morning, however, present a different view, one that shows that translation is necessary, not merely for mental knowledge, but for our entire way of being.

Rabbi. Messiah. Cephas. These are words, titles, concepts, names we've heard so often, yet the Gospel writer, though we are different from his original audience, tells us today to not be quick to think we understand their meanings. Teacher. Christ. Peter. He translates them. Words, the Word, have such depth, such life. They contain no space, and yet they shape everything. We must be careful to not assume we understand just any word, some name. We need translation.

"Children, let no one deceive you." We need a rabbi, a teacher, one who has overcome the work of evil and sin. "The person who acts in righteousness is righteous, just as he is righteous." We need a Messiah, one christened by the Spirit, the Lamb of God, who walks in righteousness for he is the author of righteousness. "The children of God are made plain." God, through the work of Jesus, has by the Holy Spirit given us a name, one that sets us apart, renews us, captures our very essence.

Not only do we need translations, we ourselves need to be translated. Too often we act, speak, live like, as the epistle writer puts it, children of the Devil. But we are called to something so much greater. We are called to sing a new song, a song proclaiming the saving power of God throughout the earth. We are called to live the son in loving our brothers and sisters. We are to tell our brothers and sisters, like the apostle Andrew did Simon, "We have found the Messiah." The good news is a work of translation, a transformed reality. The bread and wine we will eat and drink transform us into the Body of Christ. The Word of God, the Lamb of God, is brought into our very beings. Here, in our prayers, our worship, our listening, our fellowship, in our silence, we are taught, we are anointed, we are named.


(1 John 3:7-10, Psalm 98, John 1:35-42)