Fr. Sean’s Trinity VI Sermon

Jul 12
8 min read

O GOD, who hast prepared for those who love thee such good things as pass man's understanding; Pour into our hearts such love toward thee, that we, loving thee above all things, may obtain thy promises, which exceed all that we can desire

The Collect for this morning is very ancient--the earliest manuscript coming from the 8th century, but sources from the 5th century or before. It speaks of a special gift from God, love, which he pours into our hearts so that we can obtain his promises which will exceed all that we can desire. In fact, this gift of charity, which is divine love--its not an ordinary love like, I love the Tour de France--this love will pass our understanding. Charity lifts our natural loves into a higher level, a higher order and directs all of our loves to their end, God Himself. Have you experienced this love?

Each week the Church presents this love in our liturgy where we are able to offer ourselves to God as he gives to us his very Body and Blood through his passion, death, and resurrection. But do we know this love as the love that changes our very lives? It is almost too much to consider, and so it is helpful to see what that means through other humans, saints, in whose lives we see divine charity working and blossoming.

Last month we received the icon of St. Elizabeth the New Martyr, and I have been talking a lot about her. Partially because it might seem a bit strange that we have an icon of a German/English princess who became a Grand Duchess of Russia and was martyred by Bolshevik revolutionaries in 1918. Some might ask, why is she here in an Anglican church in Albemarle county?? Well, as we get to know her life, I hope that she becomes a beacon, a light, to show us how to live in our day and time. After her husband was assassinated, St. Elizabeth had the opportunity to grow in bitter anger against that murderer, to hate the people of Russia, and to flee from that foreign country. But instead, Elizabeth took a radical step to devote her life to God and serve the common people of Moscow as a nun.

Her choice was heavily criticized by people around her--even her own family was shocked by her choice. But she wrote to her brother-in-law, Tzar Nicholas: "One can't believe that I alone, without any other influence, decided this step which to many seems an unbearable cross I have taken up. And which I will either regret one day, throw over, or breakdown under. Life and time will show and certainly I am not worthy of the boundless joy of God letting me work this way, but I will try and he who is all love will forgive me my mistakes, as he sees the wish I have of serving him. In my life, I had so much joy--in my sorrow so much boundless comfort--that I long to give a little of that to others. Oh, this is not a new feeling, this is an old one which was always in me. God has been so kind to me. I don't for one minute think I have taken up a heroic deed, it is a joy, I don't see my crosses nor feel them because the unboundess kindness of God I have always felt--I long to thank him." Elizabeth is a great example, a vision, of how the love of God, that perfect gift, can transform the life of ordinary men and women and give them a joy amidst suffering that passes all understanding. When given the opportunity for bitter anger and resentment against those around her, Elizabeth relied on the gift of God.

One biographer wrote this: "within that solitude (of mourning), the grand Duchess learned that the Cross had once and for all taken away the shame and the indignity of man's misery. And the day came when, her understanding heightened and her vision enlarged, she could pray for the soul of the man who had robbed her of all she held most deer. Without falling into ecstasies or becoming prey to exaggerated piety, Elizabeth began walking the new way until Christ name became both garment and breath to her. Week by week the conviction grew that she had gifts she must use and that there was a job she must do."

Elizabeth's life was not easy, nor was acceptance of God's calling. In fact, the way of Love is often very difficult and not easy, just as Jesus' teaching is not always easy to hear. We often think of Jesus as our Good Shepherd, perhaps imagining a pastoral scene with green grass and Jesus laying in the shade watching out for the flock. But a shepherd guards against wolves and must be fierce against enemies. Moreover, the shepherd must train his sheep and that training is not always comfortable, but it is loving. It makes me think of Proverbs 3: "My son, despise not the chastening of the LORD; neither be weary of his correction: For whom the LORD loveth he correcteth; even as a father the son [in whom] he delighteth." [Pro 3:11-12 KJV] This is what St. Paul had in mind when he wrote the Hebrews: "If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not?" [Heb 12:7 KJV] Notice that in both of these cases, the correction is done in love.

And this morning's Gospel is a great warning from Jesus about the danger of anger. Jesus takes the moral life seriously, and he recognizes that our moral actions have consequences because our moral actions can lead us towards or away from God. In this chapter 5 of Matthew, Jesus starts by criticizing the Pharisees and scribes: "Jesus said unto his disciples: except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven." In this case, Jesus is not commending these religious leaders, though he does commend they observance of Torah in other places. Matthew 23 is the helpful context here, where Jesus directly addresses these leaders again: "Saying, The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses' seat: All therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, [that] observe and do; but do not ye after their works: for they say, and do not. [Mat 23:2-3 KJV]" Jesus is accusing them of hypocrisy: they do understand the Law of Moses, and they teach the observance of the Law correctly, but they do not actually live it out. So, back to Matt. 5, Jesus expects for his followers to exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees by actually living out what the Law prescribes. He expects his sheep to follow, not just say they will follow. And in particular, Jesus criticizes how they treat one another in anger.

"That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire."

St. Augustine comments that this is not just any anger, but anger without cause. It is the resentful, bitter anger that causes division and hatred. It can be grown within one’s soul even if one smiles at his brother on the outside. But then it might come out in sneering–the phrase Raca was probably just an exclamation of distaste–or it might grow to its fullness when one openly accosts their brother in hatred: Thou fool.

So in our relationships with one another, Jesus is calling us to quick reconciliation. He uses the image of a man who does not reconcile his wrong, and his adversary then takes him to the judge and he is thrown into jail. Jesus is not just telling us to be good lest we end up behind bars--he is using that image of prison to show us how our moral actions, especially anger in this case, can bind us in spiritual prison. When we continue in our sin, we become bound to it. Now it is important here to understand that Jesus had a very different view of prison than we do.

The conception of prison is very different in the ancient world, for prison was not used for punishment and definitely not for rehabilitation. Prisons were used mostly as holding cells, places for prisoners to await trial or await their execution or punishment after their trial. So imprisonment was directly linked to death. Of course, not all prisons were awful. St. Paul, for example, was on house arrest for the first couple of years in Rome. There he was allowed a certain freedom, even writing the Epistles Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon. But once Paul received his trial and sentence, he was then condemned to a more ordinary jail. In all likelihood, St. Paul was held in the Mamertine Prison, or by the Latin name Tullianum, on the northeast side of the Capitoline hill. On the first level was a large, windowless, stone room with a domed ceiling. Prisoners were chained together and to the wall. The most serious offenders were put in the dungeon which was accessed by a small hole in the prison floor. In this damp and almost lightless room, many prisoners awaited their execution or died before they could be brought out again. St. Peter is said to have baptized his fellow prisoners in this dungeon with the water seeping up from the floor.

Other famous political captives included Vercingetorix, the famous Gallic king captured by Julius Caesar's forces, Jugurtha the King of Numidia, and later Simon Bar Giora, the man who led the Jewish uprising in 70 A.D. The Roman historian Sallust, describes the scene when Lentulus, a fellow conspirator of Cataline, was put into this same prison : "In the prison, when you have gone up a little way towards the left, there is a place called the Tullianum, about twelve feet below the surface of the ground. It is enclosed on all sides by walls, and above it is a chamber with a vaulted roof of stone. Neglect, darkness, and stench make it hideous and fearsome to behold. Into this place Lentulus was let down, and then the executioners carried out their orders and strangled him."

All of these men, and all the prisoners who were put into jail, did not enjoy human rights like we give prisoners today. Treating a prisoner as a human was a revolutionary Christian idea, and it was the church that dramatically improved the state of prisons across the world. But what is important here is that prisons were equated with death. This is important to understand Paul's metaphor of sin like a prison that leads to death, it has dominion. Before our baptisms, we were dead with sin–death had a dominion over us. In Paul’s imagery, before baptism we were enslaved to sin like a prisoner chained inside a prison. Inevitably, the trial would come, but that holding cell of sin would lead to death. In his death, Christ entered into that very prison and broke the gates that held prisoners in bondage to death. And so when we are baptized into Christ, we are freed from those shackles and can live. Paul writes: “Reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” But Paul knows that we can enter back into the shackles of sin if we continue to refuse the gifts of our Lord. And so we pray that God continues to give us his life, his love, in order to obtain his promises. The Collect for Trinity VI describes the life of love and peace that Jesus Christ offers. May we, like St Elizabeth, offer ourselves to him and receive the freedom and joy that comes with serving him and living on that divine gift of charity.