First reading: Genesis 9:8-15
Psalm: Ps 25:4-9
Epistle: 1 Peter 3:18-22
Gospel: Mark 1:12-15

“See, I am now establishing my covenant with you
and your descendants after you——¨

Deals, agreements, contracts…the history of the Old Testament is marked by a series of these covenants. In turn, the covenants are marked by symbols of remembrance.

A history of promises

We know of God’s promise, His covenant with Abraham. God promised many things to Abraham. He promised that He would make Abraham’s name great (Genesis 12:2), that Abraham would have numerous descendants (Genesis 13:16), that he would be the father of a multitude of nations (Genesis 17:4-5). God also promised that the families of the world will be blessed through Abraham’s descendant, the Messiah (Genesis 22:18).

God made various promises to Moses. In Deuteronomy 30:1-10 God renewed the promise He gave Abraham regarding the land Israel was to inherit. In addition, God laid out, in the Mosaic Covenant (Deuteronomy 11; et seq.), a set of conditional covenants that brought blessings for Israel’s obedience or curses for their disobedience. We remember these as the ten commandments and the rest of the law which contained over 600 commands—”with roughly 300 blessings and 300 curses.

God also gave David the promise that his descendant would inherit his throne and occupy it forever. The Davidic Covenant (2 Samuel 7:8-16) amplifies the promise God gave Abraham, that his seed would bless the world. This promise to David is key because God promised that David’s physical line of descent would last forever and that his kingdom would never pass away. This kingdom, furthermore, would have a ruling individual exercising authority over it. That ruler, that king, is our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (Luke 1:32-33) who lives forever.

Our first reading from Genesis showed God establishing a covenant, an agreement with Noah.

Who makes the promise, and how?

In each of these instances we see the promise being made. Further, for every promise a marking, or a symbol, is given.

Now these promises are not like the promises we make. Our experience is to enter into agreements with each other. Our promises involve exchanges and mutual promises. If I want to put a new roof on my house I enter into a contract with a roofer. I expect them to put a proper roof on my house using proper materials. In exchange they expect payment, or a series of payments. The promise is the contract, the sign of the promise are the paper the contract is written on, and the fulfillment of the contract is the work and my payment.

God’s covenants don’t work that way. God’s covenants are normally unconditional. God obligates Himself when He unrestrictedly declares, ‘I will.’ God promises to accomplish, or bring about His promises despite any failure on the part of the person or people with whom He covenants. Looking at God’s promise to Noah, we see that He makes the promise, He sets the sign by which the promise is to be remembered, and He fulfills the promise. All of these are unconditional.

There are other, physical symbols of the covenants I mentioned earlier. When God promised Abraham the land and descendants — Abraham asked for a sign — which meant that he wanted a contract. In those days, when two people entered a contract, they brought a sacrifice, divided it in two, and each passed between the the two pieces, through its blood, to seal the contract. God told Abraham (Genesis 15:1-21):

‘Bring me a heifer three years old, a she-goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.’ And he brought him all these, cut them in two, and laid each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two. And when birds of prey came down upon the carcasses, Abram drove them away. As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell on Abram; and lo, a dread and great darkness fell upon him…When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces.

Abraham did not pass through. God, alone passed through, signified by the smoking fire pot and a flaming torch. God made the covenant with Himself. He promised to do it, signing the contract Himself.

Now the human response to God’s covenants is always important. Our positive response leads to blessing. But regardless, human failure can never abrogate the covenant or block its fulfillment. Abraham, Moses, Noah, David — at one point or another each met with sin and failure. Each had a moment or moments where they exhibited a lack of faith in God. Yet, God’s promise lives on and is fulfilled regadless of their failure.

Who holds the promise maker accountable

Getting back to my earlier roofing example, if my roofer doesn’t deliver, or if I fail to pay, we each have remedies available. I can sue him, he can sue me. We can pursue each other in order to bring about the fulfillment of the promise. Each promise implies accountability.

God is accountable as well. While He gives us His promise, He holds Himself accountable for its fulfillment. God never leads us down the primrose path. He never tells a lie. His promise is true. He holds Himself personally accountable, and in the end, we see that He personally fulfilled each and every promise He ever made.

Where are we, what is our promise

My brothers and sisters,

We stand here in the midst of the fulfillment of those covenants. Our promise is the sum of promises fulfilled in Christ Jesus.

We are part of the new and everlasting covenant marked by the sign we pray before, the sign we are marked with at baptism, the sign we mark ourselves with – the holy and all blessed Cross of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

This new covenant renews our minds and hearts, restores favor and blessing to the members of the Holy Church — the new and everlasting Israel. The new covenant in the blood of Christ forgives and removes all of our sins, and brings about an indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

The new covenant in the blood of Christ went into effect at the Last Supper during which our Lord and Savior gave us His body and blood. He made His disciples the first heirs and leaders of a new body of believers — the Holy Church. They were called to invite Jews and Gentile alike. Come, enter into the new covenant.

Under the new covenant all those who belong to Christ, who are members of the Holy Church, benefit by being called children of God (Romans 8:16), the household of God (Ephesians 2:19), the children of Abraham (Galatians 3:7), and the children of promise (Romans 9:8). We are a people of His own (Titus 2:14), are heirs of God according to promise (Galatians 3:29) and heirs of the kingdom (James 2:5). Further, we are God’s people called the temple of God (1 Corinthians 3:16), the circumcision (Philippians 3:3), the Israel of God (Galatians 6:16). We are called a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a chosen people, a holy nation (1 Peter 2:9) and we are sons of God (John 1:12), the kings and priests of God (Revelation 1:6), the Bride of Christ (2 Corinthians 11:2) and finally, the Body of Christ (1 Corinthians 12).

Ours is the final promise

We have the final promise. Our covenant is in God Who has fulfilled His promise, and Who did so Himself. We proclaim that this covenant, this promise, is both new and eternal.

St. Paul in addressing the Hebrews, tells us (Hebrews 9:11-12):

But when Christ appeared…he entered once for all into the Holy Place, taking not the blood of goats and calves but his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption.

Paul confirms that Jesus told us that He had come to do the Father’s will, that is, to fulfill the Father’s promises, and that (Hebrews 10:10):

by that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.

Today’s second reading from first Peter says the same:

Christ suffered for sins once,
the righteous for the sake of the unrighteous,
that he might lead you to God.—¨

The symbol/sign of the final promise

Thus the cross of Christ is our symbol, our sign, our joy, our happiness, our boast. It is the sign of God’s coming to fulfill His promises. It is the granting of fulfillment to all those who come seeking God’s truth. That is you, that is me. All whose hearts desire God share in the promise, and yes, even those who reject God. They too share in the promise. The cross, the body and blood of Christ given to us, is an everlasting contract. It is a contract written by God, written out through the sacrificial death of God’s only Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and signed in His blood.

Living in the promise

If I told you that you had just won one million dollars you might be amazed for a second. Then you would look at me rather intently and think: ‘Deacon, where did you get a million and why are you giving it away?’

We stand here, looking at this beautiful cross, and ponder God’s remarkable promise. We are God’s children, household, people, heirs, a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation. We are God’s sons, kings and priests, the Bride of Christ and the Body of Christ. Sometimes we look at all this, rather intently, and can’t really believe that all of this is ours. Yet it is. We posses the promise of God and we posses its fulfillment.

The response — that is up to us.

We are called to respond, to acknowledge the reality of God’s promise, and to share our knowledge of this gift. The promise has changed everything. Make the sign of the cross, acknowledge the Holy Faith, recall the promise, and share it. Tell Jew and Gentile alike: Hearts and minds have been renewed, The favor and blessing of God is here, sins are forgiven, and the Holy Spirit dwells here. Echo the words the Lord spoke:

“This is the time of fulfillment.
—¨The kingdom of God is at hand.—¨
Repent, and believe in the gospel.”

Amen.

First reading: Hosea 2:16-17,21-22
Psalm: Ps 103:1-4,8,10,12-13
Epistle: 2 Corinthians 3:1-6
Gospel: Mark 2:18-22

—No one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the skins are ruined. Rather, new wine is poured into fresh wineskins.—

The purpose of the old fast

Today’s Gospel begins with a statement about the fasting of John’s disciples and the Pharisees. A group walks up to Jesus and says: “Why do the disciples of John and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?”

Isn’t that annoying? It isn’t that the question itself is annoying, it is that the question is being asked both as a trap and a comparative.

We get into trouble when we compare, when we contrast two things without knowing much about either.

Certainly, the disciples of John and the Pharisees fasted, and they took it very seriously. What we’re missing is the basis of their fast. Why did they fast? Why didn’t Jesus’ disciples fast? Should we fast?

Many of us only know fasting within the context of the Church, or perhaps we recollect people from other religions who fast, or fasting for political purposes — the hunger strike. But why did John’s disciples and the Pharisees fast?

Both the Pharisees and John’s disciples fasted as part of their expectation. In reality they were a people without. They knew of the promised Messiah, but they stood without. All they had were expectation and deep, deep longing. The expectation and the longing led them to fast — to fast in the hope that their personal sacrifice, their mortification, might bring about the Messiah’s arrival. Perhaps, John’s disciples knew that the Messiah was near, that His time was drawing close. In John 3:22-30 John the Baptist had already pointed to Jesus, who was baptizing in Judea, as the bridegroom.

The old fast, referenced by this group that approached Jesus, was the fast of longing and desire. It was the fast held by a people still waiting, still expecting, but without the Messiah.

Jesus’ disciples have cause for joy

Jesus’ disciples weren’t fasting. In fact they were breaking a lot of rules. They were working – picking grain on the Sabbath, they weren’t fasting at the appointed times, they were doing all sorts of crazy things, like curing the sick and driving out demons, raising the dead, proclaiming —Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.— They saw the signs and heard the words. Over the past few weeks the Gospels tell us that they heard the bystanders marvel: “We have never seen anything like this.” Jesus’ disciples had cause to party, to literally, rejoice. For them, there was no purpose to fasting. The sick, the leper, and the unclean were healed and were welcome, the possessed were freed, tax collectors and sinners followed Jesus and ate with Him, He spoke to the Samartian and the Gentile. Their Jesus was the loving welcome and open invitation to repentant sinners. He was the victor over all enemies, most particularly over sin. He was the expectation fulfilled. The Messiah was with them.

Jesus is the bridegroom, the Church is His bride

As I mentioned, John the Baptist made it very clear:

He who has the bride is the bridegroom; the friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice; therefore this joy of mine is now full.

Given 2,000 years of history we well know that the bridegroom has come. We have a lot of perspective. Yet it is key that we understand, as we are about to walk into our Lenten journey, that the bridegroom has come, that we are standing in the midst of the nuptial celebration. Our joy, like John’s, must be full. Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior has taken us into His outstretched arms. He calls us to the celebration. The old fast is dead. It no longer has meaning or purpose. The longing is over.

We hold, in our hands, in our hearts, in our homes, in our parish, in our Holy Polish National Catholic Church, the true joy that comes from knowing that our fulfillment has arrived. Yet we are called to the fast.

The wine and wineskin

Jesus’ description of new wine in old wineskins will help us in understanding the new fast.

The people Jesus was talking to used animal skin containers for carrying wine. The animal’s skin was removed, it was sewn up with the fur side out, and an opening was left in the skin to form a spout. Because these skins were used quickly they weren’t tanned. New wine could be put into new wineskins because they were soft and pliable. As the wine fermented the new wineskins could take the pressure, stretching and expanding to suit the wine. Over time, the skins would become hard and brittle. If you put new wine into the old skin the fermentation process would cause the old skin to burst, ruining both the skin and the wine.

What is the new wine

Jesus comes to us as the new wine. The Pharisees, all those who stood waiting, were set in their ways. They were so accustomed to fasting, to their despair over the long wait for the Messiah, that they no longer hoped. The hope was replaced by the process of fasting for the sake of fasting. Jesus called them on this many times, telling them that they fasted so that they would be seen as fasting, fasting for the people’s approval, not God’s. They were the old skins. As Jesus tried to pour His teaching into their hearts their old and brittle hearts burst. Their hearts did not burst in joy, but in anger and pain. Don’t mess with our fast, can’t you see how right we are? They fasted in expectation, but when the fulfillment of the expectation came, they missed it.

Jesus’ disciples, they saw and heard. They were celebrating. They were bursting with joy, because their new, regenerated hearts, could hold Jesus – the new wine, the finest wine, like the wine at Canna, was in their midst. Jesus’ disciples were the new wine skins, open to accepting the reality of the Messiah.

What is the new wine skin

Like the disciples, we are new wine skins. Our Christian life is filled with the joy that comes from Jesus’ call, and our acceptance of His reality.

But deacon, I feel old and brittle. I don’t like new wine in my old body. I am comfortable, even with my familiar sins. I love Jesus of course, but I really don’t need a lot of this filling up. If it happens I just might burst. You know, it was ok for the disciples. They were there, they saw and heard, they could be pliable. I can’t.

So we embark, all of us, with our comfortable hearts and our dried out skins, and our jars of Nivea and Eucerine, and hey Magge, is that Palmolive… We embark on this Lenten journey.

What is the new fast

God asked Hosea to tell us:

I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart.
She shall respond there as in the days of her youth, when she came up from the land of Egypt.

Our hearts may feel old and dry. We may very well be the most complacent people on the planet. I may be the laziest deacon in the history of the Church, but we are called into the Lenten desert. In this Lenten desert we are to take up the new fast. We are to fast, to put things out of our lives, and to develop the discipline we need to be good Christians. Through this process we will regain the flexibility, the openness we need, to accept the reality of Jesus.

If we acknowledge that we are complacent and comfortable, if we get that far, it is still a long road to making the changes that are necessary. Those changes aren’t something done through our will. Who can say: ‘Today I am lazy, but tomorrow I will be new, active and alive? It doesn’t work that way. That’s not the way we are built.

The new fast, the fast that comes from our joy, provides the mechanism we need to step out of who we are, in baby steps. If we cannot give up meat on Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent, how will be give up even one sin. If we cannot say no to small sins, to small acts of selfishness, how will we conquer the big ones? If our self discipline is lacking, let us set, with God’s grace, to discipline and mortify ourselves.

The Protestant preacher John Piper says it this way:

Never, NEVER does God ask you to deny yourself a greater value for a lesser value. That’s what sin is. On the contrary, always, ALWAYS, God calls us to surrender second-rate, fleeting, unsatisfying pleasures in order to obtain first-rate, eternal, satisfying pleasures.

Through this new fast we are transformed. We give up on things of lesser value, second-rate, fleeting, unsatisfying pleasures for something of far greater value, eternal life in Jesus Christ. We become what Paul says of us:

You are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by all,
shown to be a letter of Christ administered by us, written not in ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets that are hearts of flesh.

Through the new fast, through this Lent, our hearts will be transformed. Our old wineskins become new. When our hearts are filled with the wine that is the Word of God, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and the presence of Christ, they do not burst in anger or resentment. Rather, they hold it all and beam with the light, the joy, the happiness that is Jesus Christ.

Let us pray:

Lord Jesus Christ, You call us to the discipline of the Lenten fast, to achieve, with Your help, the strength to overcome sin. Grant us, in Your great compassion and mercy, a fruitful fast. May our fast renew our hearts, bringing them to life, making them able to hold the fulness of Your joy-filled Word, and causing them to show forth the light of Your truth — new hearts to hold Your kingdom’s new wine. Amen.

It is I, I, who wipe out,
for my own sake, your offenses;
your sins I remember no more.

God grants forgiveness

Let’s face it, we love miracles. When we hear of a healing, of an event that is, for all practical purposes, so unlikely, we immediately think: Miracle!

The Gospel texts are replete with miracles. Jesus performed all sorts of miracles, from the forgiveness of sins to the raising of the dead.

Ooops – hold the phone. What does that mean exactly? Is there a scale of miracles, forgiveness of sins on the easy side and the raising of the dead being on the really, really tough side?

As we continue in our preparation for the Lenten journey, let us focus on the miracle of forgiveness. Indeed, today’s readings and Gospel tell us that God is the one who grants forgiveness, and that forgiveness is his most awesome miracle.

He forgives out of His will and kindness

God called His chosen people to a journey. From the day that Abram picked up his tent posts, gathered his sheep, and headed off from Ur to who-knows-where, to the day Jesus became incarnate among us, the chosen people were on a journey. We need to take an example from this journey, a journey filled with long interludes where the chosen people chose wrongly.

When the chosen people sinned they did it big time: false gods, bad kings, weak judges, faithlessness abounding. The little victories, the little glories only came when they were humbled, at their weakest, and without anything that might save. At those times they came to their senses and turned to God. When they were at the lowest of low points they put on sackcloth and ashes, they fasted, they prayed, they sacrificed, they read from the Torah and recalled all that God had done for their ancestors and said these words: Lord, forgive us for we have sinned in Your eyes.

Over and over we hear the judges, kings, and prophets of Israel recounting their sin. In Isaiah (Isaiah 59:12): —For our transgressions are multiplied before thee, and our sins testify against us; for our transgressions are with us, and we know our iniquities— We hear their pleas for forgiveness echoed in the words of the prodigal son (Luke 15:18) —Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me as one of your hired servants.”

If we look at their journey we see some awesome miracles. However awesome, those miracles depended on the people’s recognition of the wrongs they committed, and their making a request for forgiveness. When they do that we see forgiveness flowing from God. God shows Himself as the source of a forgiveness that is complete, merciful, and kind. The horror of the sin is not just forgiven, it is forgotten, its memory wiped out. By God’s miracle Israel finds forgiveness. Every step in Israel’s journey shows us the depth and breadth of God’s forgiveness. When the chosen people repented, God forgave. He did not hold their sin against them.

God’s promises are fulfilled in Jesus not in law

Throughout the journey the chosen people were preparing, moving toward the point in time when mercy would flow down from heaven. God promised that the Savior would come. He never told Israel that salvation would come through the law, or the practice of specific techniques for washing, cooking, or building temples. Those things were secondary, given as techniques to assist in the preparation for the Savior. Paul tells us that Jesus Christ was the fulfillment of the law. The laws of yes, no, yes, yes, no, no, no, oh, and yes there, no there were no more. Paul tells us:

For however many are the promises of God, their Yes is in him

God’s promises are yes, that is, they are fulfilled in Jesus Christ. Jesus, God among us, brings us the fulness of every promise God ever gave us. Included in those promises is the promise of forgiveness for those who acknowledge their sin and repent. As it was for repentant Israel, so will it be for us, the new Israel.

The dichotomy between God’s sole authority and our actions

There is a great dichotomy between our poor imitation of God and God’s ability to forgive.

Certainly, we practice forgiveness. We forgive our spouses, children, co-workers, the guy who cut us off on the way to church — we did forgive him didn’t we? Yet, being honest, we know that we fall short in forgiving the way God does.

God’s forgiveness is full and complete. This is what we heard in reading Isaiah 43:25 this morning: “I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins.— In designing the Ark of the Covenant, kept in the Holy of Holies in the Jewish temple, we see that God placed the Ark upon the mercy seat, the place from which His grace of forgiveness flowed. The Jewish term for that place, that seat, meant the place where sins are wiped out — remembered no more. In the Letter to the Hebrews (Hebrews 8:12, Hebrews 10:17) we hear: —For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more.” and “I will remember their sins and their misdeeds no more.”

Over and over we hear of the totality of God’s mercy. We know those words to be true. We know that God grants a forgiveness that is total, that is beyond our comprehension, that is miraculous, and that is solely dependent on His mercy. We can’t forgive the way He does. We can’t demand His forgiveness or force it. Yet we know that God forgives. Isaiah tells us that God forgives for His own sake. So here we are, on our knees, asking, asking like Israel asked. We demand nothing, yet we rely on His mercy. We can do nothing, yet we count on His promise, sealed in the blood of our Lord and Savior.

It takes effort

Israel’s journey , Jesus’ instruction, and ultimately His sacrifice on the cross are the cause of our hope.

Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd,
they opened up the roof above him.
After they had broken through,
they let down the mat on which the paralytic was lying.
When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic,
“Child, your sins are forgiven.”

Jesus shows us that our effort bears fruit, it leads to certainty.

Lent is nearly upon us. We need to grab onto this assurance. Imagine Jesus reclining at table. He wasn’t unaware of what was going on. Stuff was likely falling on Him from a bunch of guys ripping a hole in the ceiling. Think of Jesus, sitting in your living room, covered in drywall dust, a stranger laying on your coffee table. This wasn’t an easy climb to the roof. Ripping open that hole, persevering through it, getting the man on the mat through the roof and down to Jesus required determination.

The reward for the determination was exactly what?

I think that everyone was disappointed when they heard: “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Come on Jesus! Give us a spinning sun, dancing paralytics, visions, the entertainment we so desire from —great— miracles. Jesus showed the doubtful the grand miracle they needed, enough so that they were astonished. The paralyzed man got up, picked up his mat, and walked away. That said, the miracle happened fifteen minutes before, when Jesus forgave the man’s sins.

The greatest miracle, the greatest payoff for the effort displayed that day, was a blotting out of the paralyzed man’s sins.

Our preparation

In our preparation for the Great Lent let us recall the greatest miracle, the miracle of forgiveness. “Child, your sins are forgiven.” and again: “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Again and again, five words, one great miracle. Five words and the God-man on the cross. The mercy seat is covered in His blood and our sins wiped out.

Our efforts, like those of the men bringing their friend through the roof of the local gathering place, must be persistent. In preparing for Lent we know that our journey is much like Israel’s, filled with long interludes where we’ve lost our way. Having lost our way, we need to capture the opportunity being presented. We have the opportunity to kneel, not in despair and hopelessness, but in recognition of the promise — the promised miracle, the blotting out of every offense we ever committed, awaits our asking.

Our lifelong effort/climb

We are on a journey, a journey of a lifetime. Whether we have a difficult journey or an easy one, a hard climb or a stroll to the top, dumb moves or dumb luck, there is one miracle we must rely on. That miracle is the greatest miracle, the miracle of forgiveness. God awaits our perseverance and grants us this gift, as is His will. Let us follow the example of the patriarchs, prophets, kings, the four men bearing their friend, the saints through the ages, our ancestors. Let us put forth the effort to ask, relying on God’s proven mercy, relying on our effort to repent of wrongs and ask forgiveness.

First reading: Leviticus 13:1-2,44-46
Psalm: Ps 32:1-2,5,11
Epistle: 1 Corinthians 10:31-11:1
Gospel: Mark 1:40-45

“The one who bears the sore of leprosy
shall keep his garments rent and his head bare,
and shall muffle his beard;
he shall cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean!’—

Definition of uncleanliness

A quick perusal of Wikipedia tells us that unclean can mean: something which is not clean or which lacks purity. It is a term that is found in the Old Testament. The Hebrew term tamei refers to a state of ritual impurity, things which require purification. The term is also used for types of animals which are always tamei. The terms carries through to Islam meaning a state which may require ablutions, or referring to ritually impure food.

When we think of Jewish references to things that are unclean we immediately think of pork, other non-kosher foods like shell fish, and the improper mixing of meat and dairy. It is very complex, but you get the picture.

According to the book of Leviticus, the purpose of Jewish kashrut, or dietary laws, is to instill a sense of ritual purity and holiness among the Jewish people. Scholars point out that the Hebrew word for “holiness” is etymologically related to the Hebrew word for “distinction” or “separation.” The most widely accepted theory is that those laws serve to distinguish between the Israelites and the non-Israelite nations of the world. Gordon Wenham writes: “The laws reminded Israel what sort of behavior was expected of her, that she had been chosen to be holy in an unclean world.”

We can say that holding a person to be unclean causes that person to be apart from the community. If you are apart from the community you are apart from God, because God chooses to live amongst us in community.

Obviously, our reading from Leviticus declares lepers as separate from the community, separate to the point where they are marked as apart, by their appearance and by their proclamation: —unclean, unclean.—

Who is unclean

We continue to recognize ‘uncleanliness.’ Every people and every culture marks the unclean as being apart. Christianity has not been immune to this trend. In fact, Christianity may be one of the worst offenders. We’ve created whole new classes of uncleanliness. We’ve set ourselves against each other. In many instances the people who bear Christ’s name are the first to point out distinction, disagreement, and uncleanliness amongst His people.

Christians have taken each and every sin, and have turned those sins into more than the failure they should represent. Rather, we have taken sin and turned it into a marker of pervasive, deep-seated uncleanliness. A man with sin is no longer a man in need of repentance, a man to whom the door of forgiveness is open, rather he is an outcast, a part of a race that is apart. He is a leper.

Where Christianity has failed modern secular society has taken up the torch. We could each produce a list of egregiously unclean politicians, actors, and sports figures. We could even throw in a few relatives, those unclean black sheep we’re embarrassed over.

Our definitions are not God’s definitions

In defining uncleanliness Jesus says (Matthew 23:25-28):

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you cleanse the outside of the cup and of the plate, but inside they are full of extortion and rapacity.
You blind Pharisee! first cleanse the inside of the cup and of the plate, that the outside also may be clean.
“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within they are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness.
So you also outwardly appear righteous to men, but within you are full of hypocrisy and iniquity.”

Jesus was speaking to the Pharisees, because as St. Luke conveys, Jesus had gone to dine in the house of a Pharisee, but did not wash before He ate. The Pharisee was astonished: Jesus was eating while ritually impure. What the Pharisee didn’t know was that Jesus was the purity of God, and that He saw into the Pharisee’s heart, which was unclean.

Jesus uses his encounters with lepers, with the dead, and with the Pharisees to illustrate God’s understanding of uncleanliness. The things that God is concerned about are the unclean things that are inside of us, well hidden from the world. These are the things that are destroying our souls. Factors of ritual impurity mean nothing if they are no more than an excuse for ignoring our sins.

From this we get a true picture of God’s concern. God’s concern is for us and for our hearts. God instructs: look after your faults, repent of them, and seek forgiveness. In example after example Jesus reaches out for the sinful, not to deny or whitewash their sins, but to call them out of their sins, to perfect them. In doing this God shows us that He is the one who perfects.

In encounter after encounter Jesus points to the fact that the Pharisees, His apostles, the bystanders, and stone throwers did not know what they were talking about. When they pointed to the sins of others Jesus asked them to consider their sins. In doing this God shows us that He is the one who knows and judges.

We learn that the context for God’s relationship with us is love and mercy.

Jesus wants to heal us

The Leper asks Jesus: “If you wish, you can make me clean.”

In reply we hear that Jesus was moved with pity.

he stretched out his hand,
touched him, and said to him,
“I do will it. Be made clean.”—¨

During the Penitential Rite, which is part of every Holy Mass, we fall to our knees and examine our consciences. We enumerate our sins and seek God’s forgiveness. In asking for forgiveness we pledge to amend our lives, to change through repentance, and to reform ourselves with the help of God’s grace. Through the hands of the priest God reaches out, He palaces His hand on our shoulder, and He heals us.

Jesus wants to heal us. He wants to have us in His community, in this community, a community that lives in His presence. He does not ask that we exclude anyone by calling them unclean, but that we include ourselves through a recognition of our uncleanliness, an uncleanliness that will be washed away. Jesus stands ready to say to us: “I do will it. Be made clean.“—¨

Jesus’ healing has a precondition

Jesus heals us, and His gift of healing is free. Because this healing is God’s gift He sets a condition. The condition is our repentance and sorrow. It is interesting to note that the leper had to ask for Jesus’ healing. Like the leper we must ask. As we enter this pre-Lenten season we must reconnect with this responsibility, first and foremost for ourselves. We must come to Jesus and ask. That humility, the recognition of our personal state of uncleanliness, and true sorrow for that state, is required so that, with God’s help, we might change. If we are ready to change, if we have a notion that change is necessary, then Jesus stands ready. In healing the leper Jesus shows that His healing reconnects us. We, who were unclean in our sin, who were outsiders, will be made whole and clean, part of the community of believers, the community of God’s sons and daughters.

Jesus’ healing is complete

The most remarkable thing is this: Jesus’ healing is complete and total. Jesus’ blood washes our robes and makes them white. Think about that. Jesus turns our soiled, unclean robes to robes of dazzling white. That is the power and magnificence of God’s healing. Whenever we face doubt, whenever we find our faith faltering, recall those robes. See them for what they are, and know that Jesus makes them pure and clean. There’s no ring-around-the-collar, there’s no grey tinge. Our robes aren’t left off-white. As we ascend the mountain of Calvary with our Lord and Savior, as we climb behind Him, remember that the blood that flows back down upon us, bought at the cost of His sacrificial death, is the surest sign of His desire that we be made whole in Him, that we be made clean.

Jesus’ blood washes the world. Whenever we face the temptation to call others unclean, we must see their robes washed white in the very same blood. Whenever we have cause to criticize the uncleanliness of others let us think upon our sinfulness.

Jesus is in the healing business

My friends,

All of this, this parish, our Holy Church, the teachings of the Fathers and the Apostles, the great sacraments the Lord has given us, are all for this. They are given that we may be made whole, that we may be healed, that we might recognize the fact the Jesus washes us clean so that we might live with Him forever.

We can define uncleanliness, we can seek it out in others, we can set ourselves apart and declare ourselves separate from our brothers and sisters. If we do, we passed right by Jesus. Somehow, we missed Him. Look deep, look inside, fall at His feet, may we ever fall on our knees, knowing that in a moment we can stand, assured of healing, with robes white as snow.

Let these words, from the Fifty-first Psalm instruct us, recalling that God comes to heal, to remove the uncleanliness that matters, and to remove it with His blood:

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to thy steadfast love;
according to thy abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin!
For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.

Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Fill me with joy and gladness;
let the bones which thou hast broken rejoice.
Hide thy face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and put a new and right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from thy presence,
and take not thy holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of thy salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.

O Lord, open thou my lips,
and my mouth shall show forth thy praise.

Amen.

First reading: Deuteronomy 18:15-20
Psalm: Ps 95:1-2,6-9
Epistle: 1 Corinthians 7:32-35
Gospel: Mark 1:21-28

I am telling you this for your own benefit,
not to impose a restraint upon you,
but for the sake of propriety
and adherence to the Lord without distraction.

The Lord imposes no restraint

When people hear faith, religion, church, God, Jesus, or anything similar, in many instances the reaction is — reaction. Oh, umm, religion, church, not so much for me. I live my life, am a good person, love others, I don’t need anyone telling me how I should live.

The passage in 1 Corinthians 7:35 reflected in today’s readings uses the word —propriety.— Other translations render the passage differently. The RSV renders it:

I say this for your own benefit, not to lay any restraint upon you, but to promote good order and to secure your undivided devotion to the Lord.

Propriety or the promotion of good order. One of the antiquated definitions of propriety is ones —true nature.—

Whatever the word, we are to understand Paul as saying that the Lord and His Holy Church have not been given for the sake of restriction, restraint, or an absence of freedom, but rather to call us to good order, to our true nature.

The Lord grants freedom

Truly, the Lord grants us freedom, not restraint.

What is freedom exactly? It is life in accordance with God’s will. It is our call to live as God designed, a design that is integral to us. Living rightly and properly is part of who we are. It is the calling we find in our hearts, souls, minds, and bodies; a call that permeates our lives. Freedom is our call to return to the life we were meant to live, to our true nature. St. Paul refers to this as being undivided, being undistracted.

Of course humanity lives in rebellion, division, and distraction. That part of us is the part which is bound to the way of the world, to sin. Sin is separation from our true nature. Certainly, at first glance, sin can be enticing, whether it be the road to gratuitous fulfillment, or to quick riches. We may think that we can find fulfillment in sin, in self-justification, but we can’t. Every time we choose to walk in that direction we walk away from who we are, we leave our humanity behind, humanity created by and modeled after God.

When we do wrong, whether it be small or large, we feel the breakage that occurs. We find ourselves in the midst of division and distration. Sometimes, we Christians think we are the only ones who feel distress at sin, that the rest of humanity is immune to guilt, to sorrow over sin, over the damage, small and large, that occurs every day.

We are not alone! We are all human, churched and unchurched person. We are as human as the person who doesn’t know God, or who thinks that God is an anachronism, an old fashioned myth.

All of us, all of humanity is called to live in accord with our true nature, possessing the happiness and peace only truth can bring. Every person is called to a destiny that attains to goodness. That is as certain as our adoption as children of God.

When a person accepts Jesus Christ’s revelation, when they are regenerated, they find the path to the fulness of truth. That fulness can only be found by faith.

Faith, belief, the Holy Church and Her teaching grant a better, a fuller understanding of the truth. Life in the Christian community guides us. The Church is given us as mentor and teacher. That is the exact reason Jesus granted the Church His Holy Spirit, His Word, and His body. In attaching himself to Her mankind finds the surest path to redemption, to healing, to unity, to being one with our true nature. Our union with Her provides the means to completeness. In Her we find the way, the truth, and the life — which is Jesus Christ.

True freedom is the fruit of the full truth

To be truly free, to be ourselves we need the whole truth. I don’t know about you, but I consider myself wholly inadequate in my ability to heal brokenness, to reform my life, to live rightly, to discipline myself so that every unworthy passion and desire in me is destroyed. I couldn’t find my way to my true nature with a map, a GPS, and a boatload of good intentions. I need the full truth, the fullness of freedom found in following the path God Himself set for us. He shows me the way. He tells me that my potential, my latent perfection, will grow as I fall into His arms. His Word is my map, my GPS and His Holy Church is the storehouse of prayer and grace — the good intentions I really need.

How silly really, to live in unbelief, to discount God, and the witness of His followers, to rely on oneself. Let us consider our lives. Where would truth come from if not from God? Where is the path of freedom, enlightenment, and righteousness? Does it lie in manmade systems, new age spirituality, politics, trends, sexual licentiousness, in riches, or in worldly power? If there is any truth out there, in the ways of man, its seed is from God – the Father of truth.

The truth and goodness found in each and every person is the call and entryway to the path of truth, the full truth, real freedom, our claim to our true nature. Whatever is apart from this call and entryway is false and apart from our true nature. Those things that are apart from our true nature, the things that are sin, may feel good for a moment, at least until we open up the closet and uncover the bodies, disclose the skeletons, and realize that we are short of perfection and have missed the point.

In accepting the truth of God, His revealed truth, which He delivered to us in person, we embark on the path to the full truth, to complete freedom, and to the perfection found in unity with God.

“What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?
Have you come to destroy us?—¨”

The answer to evil is yes, He came to destroy you.

Truth shuts out and destroys evil. Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, crushed evil’s representative. What He did for the man with an unclean spirit, He does for us. He sets us free from bondage to our evil inclinations, our distractedness and division. By setting us free He sets, or re-sets us, on the path to our true nature.

‘Let us not again hear the voice of the LORD, our God,
nor see this great fire any more, lest we die.’
And the LORD said to me, ‘This was well said.
I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their kin,
and will put my words into his mouth;
he shall tell them all that I command him.

The great fire is in the Word

Israel was afraid. They gathered at the foot of the mountain. A line was set, that they weren’t to cross. The people were in fear at the Lord’s coming:

Now when all the people perceived the thunderings and the lightnings and the sound of the trumpet and the mountain smoking, the people were afraid and trembled; and they stood afar off,
and said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will hear; but let not God speak to us, lest we die.”

The people were afraid and would not approach God. God came in fire and cloud, speaking to Moses. Now God has come in the manner revealed to Moses. He comes as the new fire and His fire is His Word, the Word that shows us the path to our true nature.

By the fire of the Word we are strengthened and renewed

God’s Word is the fire that clears away falsehood, division, and distraction. In accepting His Word, letting it enter our hearts, allowing the Word to permeate our lives, we become strengthened and renewed. Moreover we renew the world by demonstrating lives lived in accord with humanity’s true nature. Our renewal, our acceptance of God’s fire, burns away all that stands in the way of perfection. The fire of God’s grace changes everything, from the way we cook, clean, cut the grass, and shovel the snow, to the way we work with colleagues and relate to our spouses, parents, children, friends, and strangers.

When the stranger comes to us he sees a people living in holiness and peace. The stranger finds us undivided and undistracted, focused on being the body of Christ, a body that welcomes, loves, cares for, and respects him. The stranger, all those we meet, finds Christ present through us, in our touch, our work, our charity, and ultimately in our ability to treat them as a fellow members of the body of Christ.

on the sabbath Jesus entered the synagogue and taught

He enters this temple and teaches us. Jesus is here, in His Holy Church. He is here, not to limit, not to restrain, but to set us free. In Him we are freed of sin, we are walking the path that is true to our nature. In Him all are free.—¨ We are undivided and undistracted — focused on adherence to the Lord — Jesus Christ — our freedom. Amen.

First reading: Jonah 3:1-5,10
Psalm: Ps 25:4-9
Epistle: 1 Corinthians 7:29-31
Gospel: Mark 1:14-20

“This is the time of fulfillment.
The kingdom of God is at hand.
Repent, and believe in the gospel.”

Or as St. Paul would say, the times they are a changin’.

There are two camps

There are two camps in the world. As Christians we belong to the camp of the other. The rest of the world belongs to the camp of self. That’s not to say people who do not know Christ are totally selfish. Aware or not, they are formed by God and have an innate awareness of the other. At the same time we cannot say that everyone who bears the name Christian lives for the other. Aware or not, they haven’t broken free from the world’s mold. They haven’t repented, they haven’t learned to act as they profess to believe.

We understand that there are two camps, and we know that we, as Christians, must live our call, our mission, and our life in accord with Jesus’ call, His mission, and His life. Jesus’ way is the way of perfection. Jesus’ way calls us out of our protective shell, away from selfishness, and into a life that is other-centered.

Jonah emerges but missed the point

Jonah is a pretty bad example. He’s placed in today’s readings for that very reason, so we can learn from his bad example. In Jonah 2:10 we see the fish literally spew Jonah back on shore:

And the LORD spoke to the fish, and it vomited out Jonah upon the dry land.

God had asked Jonah to go to Nin’evah, to preach to that city. God wanted Jonah to spare no effort in bringing Nin’eveh to repentance. Jonah didn’t much care for the Ninevites and ran in the other direction. Jonah focused on himself. He was self-centered, running from God, from God’s direction, and from God’s call to serve this people.

Here’s Jonah, back on dry land, promising God that he had learned his lesson. God tells him to go to Nin’evah, to do what God had asked, to bring a message of repentance to these people. Jonah did it and was successful. Seeing his success Jonah was — now wait for this — angry. Jonah was so ticked that he literally asked God to kill him. Jonah was angry because God loves, because God forgave the repentant Ninevites, because God used him to minister to others.

Jonah emerged from the fish, knowing that he had to carry out God’s will, yet he never saw the purpose. He didn’t understand that carrying out God’s will means that we love, serve, and consider others because God values them.

Jesus calls the fishers of men

As Jesus walks along He makes His picks: Simon and his brother Andrew, James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John. He asks them to follow Him and they get up and leave everything behind. That message gets repeated over and over again, and is often repeated in very blunt terms as in Matthew 10:37-38:

He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;
and he who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.

Or in addressing the rich young man in Mark 10:21

And Jesus looking upon him loved him, and said to him, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

Jesus asked them to detach themselves, not from people per-se, but from everything that kept them from serving others to the fullest. Remember what He said in Luke 9:2-3

—Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not have two tunics.—

Through Jesus’ instruction eleven of the twelve that were called came to see what Jonah missed. Their work was for others, for others even to the giving of their lives for others. Jesus taught them to detach, to take nothing, have nothing, to detach even from father and mother, son and daughter, house and home. Detach from what you have, want, need, or desire and focus on others. Do this and be happy, live forever.

Paul says: The times they are a changin’

St. Paul emphasizes this message in telling us that the times have changed. Christians can no longer count on their personal perception of what is. As people we are limited in our focus. We see the here and the now. Paul tells us to look beyond the current state of things. We have to act outside of ourselves and our desires, our personal feelings, our state and status in life. We have to act on a greater and larger plane, at the level of the coming kingdom.

In that kingdom we do not own or posses, we do not marry or give in marriage, we are not Jew of Greek, slave or free, wealthy or debtor, we all live outside ourselves, in a state of love and union, united with all our brothers and sisters.

By Christ’s coming life has changed, time has changed, our perspective has changed. What was inwardly focused is now outwardly focused. We give, not just money or time, but of ourselves, of our being, of all that we are, because we bear the name Christian. Because we follow Christ we do not count the cost.

OK, how much?

We ask ourselves, —Ok, how much?— How much do I have to give? How much is enough? Where’s the cut-off point?

There is one simple answer to that, —Our lives.— That is why calling oneself Christian is so radical, so different from the world.

Certainly worldly people give. The rich give. They give when it is convenient and to a level that feels comfortable. Anyone can charge a $50 donation to the Red Cross, Heart Association, the PAL, or the local firehouse. It isn’t all that difficult, volunteering a few hours at a soup kitchen or at a Habitat for Humanity site. That kind of giving is certainly good, but all too often it is done to make the giver feel good, to please the giver and help them a little on their tax return.

No, for us the question is very different. For us nothing counts, not even our lives. Like the apostles we are to be present, laying down our lives, all of our time and treasure, for the good of others. That’s why we have priests, who forego so much to serve, who leave their families at dinner, on Christmas morning, in the middle of the night, because someone is in need. That is why we have firemen and police officers who lay their lives on the line for others. That is why we have nurses and doctors who tend to the sick and dying, not just with medicine and science, but with compassion and care. That is why we have faithful husbands and wives who live their marriage vows, who don’t check out when the going gets tough. That’s why we have parents who accept God’s gift of children without a thought as to ‘choice.’

A Christian man or woman counts nothing as valuable accept to live as Jesus Christ taught. In so doing we attain everything. St. Paul, addressing the Philippians, explains it in this way (Philippians 3:17-21):

Brethren, join in imitating me, and mark those who so live as you have an example in us.
For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, live as enemies of the cross of Christ.
Their end is destruction, their god is the belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.
But our commonwealth is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ,
who will change our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power which enables him even to subject all things to himself.

What is fulfillment

Jesus said: “This is the time of fulfillment.—

That doesn’t mean that it is time to cash in those coupons, or redeem those rebates. This isn’t the time for relying on an earthly definition of fulfillment. We are detached from those worldly worries, worries over our bellies, the worldly things we think we hunger and thirst for. As Christians we have decided that we will not live like horses, chasing a carrot on the end of a stick, a carrot we will never reach. We will not chase the carrots of personal fulfillment, personal gain, personal happiness, personal choice, only to be sorely disappointed.

Christ’s fulfillment is different. It exists in recognizing the Kingdom at hand, in repenting and believing in the gospel. That gospel sets us apart from the world, the carrot chasers, the give while it feels good crowd. It differentiates us from Jonah — who missed the point. It puts us in line with the apostles, the disciples, the saints and martyrs, the holy confessors, all of whom saw the other — serving them even to the cost of their lives. In setting ourselves aside, in sacrificing our desires for God’s way and our brother’s need, we live radically different lives. Doing so we reach for the gift only God can give, the gift of fulfillment.

So repent and believe

Repent and believe — what powerfully misunderstood words. If we consider our sin to be a list of occasional wrongdoings we can attept to make ammends, to fix the core problem. Yet somehow we, like Jonah, miss out on the core problem. I eat too much, I’m gluttonous, I need more discipline, I’m sorry for that sin. Now if I get thin I’ll show that I’ve repented. That, my friends, is the road to a perpetual diet, and we will never get thin. Recognizing that the sin is deeper, and involves thinking inwardly, will lead us to lives lived for others, it will lead us to love for all from greatest to the least. It will take us off the road to a perpetual diet and put us on the road to perpetual life.

Repent and believe — the times have changed because the gospel calls us to live for others, to live radically as witnesses to a giving that goes beyond what we can count. We are to live the witness that says: I live in the camp that is for the other. My life is for you because God loves you.

First reading: 1 Samuel 3:3-10,19
Psalm: Ps 40:2,4,7-10
Epistle: 1 Corinthians 6:13-15,17-20
Gospel: John 1:35-42

—Here I am.  You called me.——¨

Isn’t that interesting. —Here I am.  You called me.— Usually we say something like —Here I am.  You called me?— Samuel was sure of the call. Samuel had certainty and that’s our message for today. In faith we have certainty.—¨

The world is uncertainty

If we approach everything from the world’s point of view we live in a state of perpetual doubt. Worldly doubt plays our inner conflicts and opposes our need for certainty and stability. Worldly doubt weakens us and we begin to question everything. That, my friends, is occasion to sin. We doubt fidelity in marriages and in social relationships. We doubt the honesty of people. We doubt ourselves and our decisions. We face the future with fear and trepidation, with doubt and uncertainty.

Our minds and souls call out, they struggle, searching for the certain. If we can’t find it we try to dull the pain of uncertainty, to fill the gaps in our lives with the world’s ready solutions. By the time we see the reality of what the world represents, we realize we have been lost in a morass of uncertainty. We face the end of life knowing that our direction has come from within, and has not risen above ourselves. We pass from this world questioning a direction we invented from our needs and wants. We question whether we have made a real difference in the world.

People without faith often comment on the fact that a person can be ‘nice’ without God. I am certain that they are mistaken. Niceness is little more than self-fulfillment without objective goodness; it felt good so I did it. We’ve all been there and we know the skeletons in our closets, the bodies we left behind, with hurt and tears; the broken relationships that fell to our whims. If one lives by one’s own code there is nothing, no touchstone, against which one may judge the goodness, the rightness of one’s actions. Sure, without faith we could say that we judge niceness by how it makes us and others feel. I am sure any one of us could make ourselves and others feel nice, all the while doing more harm than good.

Simply, there is no niceness, no goodness, no rightness without an objective measure. The objective measure is perfection in love and goodness. That objective cannot be the laws of men – laws which allow for killing, war, and theft. It cannot be some unattributed internal compass. It can only be God.

God is certainty

In baptism we receive a gift, an opening into a world of certainty. How opportune that John the Baptist would point the way to certainty.

—Behold, the Lamb of God.——¨

Our post baptismal life of faith defines the road we follow, the path of faith and relationship with God. This is the path of certainty, of absolute assurance. We see ourselves, we who have been regenerated in water and the Spirit, as assured. The path we follow has an absolute outcome which is eternal life. That is an awesome thought, that eternity awaits us. Greater still is fact that more than eternity awaits. What awaits is an eternity of absolute love and perfect assurance; the assurance of God’s grace, compassion, and mercy.

We could talk about sin, and create devils, with horns and pitchforks, living in fire and brimstone. We could use those images as a method to force faith through fear. If we take that approach our faith is little more than a transaction. I give God faith because the alternative is horrible. That method is used in many Churches and in other faiths. That path appeals to base instincts, and sadly is used by men who believe that people are uneducated, unable to see the truth, to understand it, and to live it.

Our Holy Polish National Catholic Church teaches us that faith is the door to assurance. God leads us to the door we can open with our intellect, our prayer, and our labor. Faith is the path we follow, a path created by God Himself, who is perfection. It is not a path reserved for theologians, bishops, and popes, but the path for all who come with a sincere heart, in search of the certainty that is God. It is the path where we set ourselves and our desires aside, giving up the false certainties of the world for the objective good that is God. God is absolute certainty and the call we feel, the draw to certainty, comes from Him. Recognizing this we can state, with certainty, —Here I am. You called me.——¨

Was Andrew the crazy brother?

Reading today’s Gospel we see St. Andrew, known as the first called. Now think on this a bit. Peter was at home, with a wife, mother-in-law, a boat, nets, and a business to run. His brother Andrew is hanging out with John the Baptist, listening to him tell of the One that will come after him, One who was before him.

Peter had to wonder. Was Andrew crazy, running off to the dessert with a locust and honey, hair shirt wearing baptizer who confused the past and future tense? Where was Andrew’s responsibility? Why wasn’t he in tune with the practicalities of life?

Now it gets worse. On a word Andrew runs after a new preacher. Andrew asks the Teacher: —where are you staying?—

They went to see

Andrew and the other disciple went to see Jesus’ place. I can assure you, it wasn’t a Hilton Garden Inn. On another occasion, when a prospective disciple asked Jesus if he might follow Him, Jesus replied:

“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head.”

Andrew chose to go along for the ride, knowing well that worldly comfort and self-directed fulfillment weren’t to be had. Andrew went along for the ride, and asked Peter to join him, because he knew that there was something more, something really vital, something greater than worldly fulfillment and comfort.

Yes, in the eyes of the world, Andrew was crazy, but Andrew had something.

Why was Andrew certain

Andrew had certainty. That certainty came from faith and the call. Andrew had faith, faith in God, faith in the certainty that exists beyond the moment. That faith helped him in recognizing the call when it came, the call that moved him and moves us to recognize God as our ultimate end and the means to true happiness and fulfillment. Recognizing the call Andrew responded like Samuel did: —Here I am.  You called me.—

This is a senseless proposition. The world says that this makes no sense. Andrew should have been at home, working alongside his brother, perhaps competing with him. Andrew should have relied on himself, and he should have abandoned his childish — some would say child like (Mark 10:13-16) — search for certainty. Andrew should have run when Jesus showed him His place. If Andrew was foolish enough to go along he should have abandoned the quest when Jesus pointed to Calvary. Yet, Andrew, Peter, John, James Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James the son of Alphaeus, Jude-Thaddeus, and Simon the Zealot, plus Matthias, Paul, and the seventy all knew that they were called to act with the certainty that comes from faith.

Our faith grows to certainty

My friends,

Do not mistake moments of uncertainty, moments of doubt, with a lack of faith. The path to heaven is a challenge and the world continues its temptation. In those moments recall that we are on the path of faith that began at our baptism — a path that many have trod, supported by community, and lived in prayer and hard work. Our Lord and Savior gives us all that we need to come to absolute certainty, to recognize His call with certainty. We can rely on Him. Our beloved organizer, Bishop Hodur, told us that:

…the happiness of humankind depends on knowing the Highest Being and entering into a close sincere relationship with Him through faith, prayer and the noble deeds flowing from this faith.

Our coming into certainty has begun. We are enabled. We have the call to wake, like Samuel, in the middle of the night and say: —Here I am.  You called me.— We prepare for this moment as we sit here, in prayer, listening to God’s sacred Word. We are given the grace to follow Him, setting aside the world and its ways for His way. Bishop Hodur went on to say:

The Christian religion gives us the most perfect convictions of the unity of the human spirit with the first cause of existence, with the inexpressible cause of everything, with God. In this adheres the principle of the endless tendency towards learning the truth, the progress of the soul and life. This is a state of the dynamic development of the human soul, the perfecting of the individual person, the nation and all humankind.

We grow to perfection if we rely upon our Christian faith. If we cling to our faith, pray over it, learn from it, and put its teachings into action we grow to certainty. Through our journey we encounter our Lord and Savior. Through our faith we become one with Him as St. Paul tells us: —whoever is joined to the Lord becomes one Spirit with him.—

It may seem crazy and the world certainly doesn’t like it, but let us resolve to live in faith, and above all to show our faith as a living example of God’s love, mercy, and compassion. Christ certainly lives in us when we live in Him. Through our faith we stand in certainty saying: —Here I am. You called me.— Yes, He called you, he called me. Of that we are certain. Amen.

First reading: Isaiah 42:1-4,6-7
Psalm: Ps 29:1-4,9-10
Epistle: 1 John 5:1-9
Gospel: Mark 1:7-11

for whoever is begotten by God conquers the world.
And the victory that conquers the world is our faith.

Our baptism

Today we reclaim our baptismal promise. In commemoration of our Lord’s baptism in the Jordan, we stood this morning, proclaiming our faith and our resolve to live by those promises.

What were those promises? Simply they were the renunciation of evil and a statement of belief in God as He has been revealed to us, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Further, we state that we believe in the Holy Church and the effects of our participation in the Holy Church: an eternal communion of saints, of which we are a part, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of our bodies, and life everlasting in God.

In our baptism we reject the things that destroy human life — all of which is precious and beautiful, and we accept new life, the fullness of life, in Christ Jesus. We offer ourselves as those begotten by God.

The door to truth

Being begotten of God in baptism, my friends, is the door to truth.

It is hard to acknowledge when one has the truth. We may be embarrassed, or shy about that knowledge, reticent to say: ‘I have the truth,’ but isn’t that who we are as baptized believers, people who bear the truth to all men?

St. John says an interesting thing:

If we accept human testimony,
the testimony of God is surely greater.
Now the testimony of God is this,
that he has testified on behalf of his Son.

Don’t we accept human testimony? We easily offer ascent to the words of parents, spouses, witnesses, teachers, scientists, even government officials and salespeople. We believe that their words are true witness to what they have seen and done, to what they know. Today we see God Himself bear witness, as the heavens open and the Spirit descends on Jesus, we hear His words: —You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.—

The Father and Spirit show their unity with Jesus Christ as God. Do we believe God’s words? If we do, if we know these words to be true, as recorded by the witnesses who stood along the banks of the Jordan, the witness of John’s disciples and the men who would become Jesus’ apostles and disciples, then we must acknowledge that we have the truth — Jesus is God.

Jesus brought God’s truth, and He passed it on to His apostles, the men He commissioned to baptize in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. They in turn have passed that knowledge to us through an unbroken line of bishops who preserve and teach the Apostolic truth. It is surety, God came to dwell among us and assured us that in following Him we have the truth. God’s sure truth.

Our promise gives us hope

Thus, knowing and relying upon the truth given us, truth we have claimed in our baptism, we are heirs and beneficiaries of Christ’s promises. He has gone to prepare a place for us, where we will dwell with Him forever. Yet, He is not apart from us, simply waiting for us to show up. He lives with us in our earthly sojourn and continually strengthens us in hope.

To make hope real we must claim the regeneration of baptism. We must claim the change that has taken place in us, not simply the explanation that a change has occurred, but the reality of that change. Doing so, we take up the mantle of our regeneration putting that regeneration into practice.

The first step on that path is to say clearly what Jesus Christ knows of us — we are valuable, of worth, to Him. He claims us as He claimed Paul on the road to Damascus, as He claimed Andrew upon coming up out of the Jordan. He calls to us and tells us that He loves us and needs us.

Knowing this and knowing that His promise is true, causes us to change. This is the second step — to live in the knowledge of our regeneration. In every situation we see the same factors, the same evidence others see, yet for us it is different, because all things point to God and reveal God. Even the saddest moments, in which our grief seems inconsolable, are different, because our eye is on heaven. Our perspective has been changed so that hope is always before us.

This my friends is real change and real hope. In our journey we have a taste of the change that awaits us and hope for its fulfillment.

Our promise is a guarantee

The change that awaits us and our hope for its fulfillment comes to life in serving the Lord, serving each other, and calling all to new life in water and the Holy Spirit.

The saints lived this, the smiling saints who saw the joy that awaits them.

When we look to the saints we see heroic, unimaginable deeds, and deaths — no matter how awful — as peaceful and joy-filled experiences. We see the saints that bore witness, the confessors who suffered for their witness and the martyrs who died for theirs. Their eyes were continually focused on the promise they made and the way they had to live that promise. We see saints who ministered to the sick and the dying, contracting horrible diseases, yet who comforted their bothers and sisters because of their promise. We see saints who gave and gave, ministering to the poor, the crippled, prostitutes, the homeless, prisoners, captives, on the battlefield, and in cities that wanted nothing to do with God. Yet they spoke God’s word of comfort and love. They touched and they healed. They saw Jesus Christ in their midst because of their promise. Their promise made real what Isaiah had foretold: He shall bring forth justice to the nations, He establishes justice on the earth; opens the eyes of the blind, brings out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness.

Because of our baptismal promise there is no cost too high, no witness too difficult, no sacrifice we would be unwilling to make. All, because we are those saints and those saints are us. We know the joy that God has guaranteed for us, we who live out the baptismal promise.

Our promise seals us

We know that we are begotten of God in our baptism. We know that we have the truth of God. We know that our baptism gives us hope, as long as we live out our regeneration. We know that by living our promise we are guaranteed a treasure of inestimable value (Matthew 13:45-46). Thus we are sealed in a new birth by water and the Spirit, living in truth, with hope, and taking action with an eye to eternal life in Christ Jesus. These things seal us, they mark us as people who live the Christian life — the life of Christ among us.

As we stood to state our promises, we asked all to see the seal with which we are sealed. We didn’t do this in a closet or behind closed doors, but in the community, with doors open to all.

We are the people who live this life, who show forth the seal of the Lamb, who bring Christ to the friend, the enemy, and the stranger.

Making our promise real in today’s world

To be begotten by God, to be sealed with Him, means that our lives have become purposeful. The commitment, the purpose to which we are set, is the proclamation of righteousness in God.

Our proclamation is twofold. It takes shape in our doing and in our being. By this I mean that what we do is not done as mere niceness, as something invented by man, but goodness and love as created by God. Our doing takes shape in the way we place the Gospel into action. Anyone can be nice to those who are nice to them. Anyone can love those who love them.

We are different, the sealed bearers of Christ in the world. Because of our baptism we act with goodness and love toward all. We often develop this into a dichotomy. We compare love of friends to love of enemies. But it is more. Certainly we are to love our friends and our enemies, but there is more. The next step is to love the unexpected, the stranger who is neither friend nor enemy. That’s where we can see our earthly ways fighting us. We recoil at the unknown. We hold back from the uncategorized. If one doesn’t fit into the friend or enemy category we crawl back into ourselves and wait. By baptism we are called out of that wait. The wall between us and the friend, enemy, or stranger no longer exists. What exists is our call to connect with all, to live with all and relate with all in a bond of love.

In this doing, in this building of bonds defined by goodness and love, we become. Our doing becomes our being. We are no longer the old man; our presence transformed into the presence of Christ in goodness and love (Romans 6:6).

When our doing translates into His presence we are approaching the perfection we are called to in baptism. Doing as God commands transforms us into the people Christ has called, a righteous and holy people, a people of the truth, living in the Sprit, overflowing with goodness and love.

Trust in God, trust in Me

Making the promise is serious stuff, living the promise is immensely difficult. I imagine that this is what Jesus meant when He spoke of those things that seemed impossible — camels passing through the eye of a needle (Matthew 19:24). But, there is hope and there is help. We have made the promise and are sealed. We have the truth and sure hope — a guarantee. Now it is time for our doing and our becoming. None of this is done on our own, but first and foremost in prayer. Let us cast ourselves at Jesus’ feet in our prayer and ask that He give us the strength we need for our work.

Jesus asked us to trust in God and to trust also in Him (John 14:1). Trusting in Him we will do all we are called to do, and more. Like the saints, living their baptismal promise, seeing their regeneration in the forefront, we will bring the comfort and freedom of God to all mankind. We will live our baptism. Amen.