The letter I read today at her memorial service . . .
Dear Arrayah,
I first found out about you late last year. Your Aunt Melissa was on the phone with your grandmother and had mentioned to me that when she asked how your parents were doing, your grandmother had a happy glint in her voice as if she knew something. Your Aunt Melissa asked if perhaps your mom was pregnant, but your grandmother wouldn't say. After getting off of the phone your Aunt Melissa turned to me and said, "I think Kaley is pregnant and I think it’s a girl." "What? Nah I said. That can't be." But it was and in a short while I received the news from your very happy father. A few months later your older brother Jesiah celebrated his first birthday. I've only had the opportunity of seeing him a few times, but I think you would have enjoyed having him as an older brother.
Months went by and we thought and prayed for you and your family. Then in April I received a phone call and discovered that your mom wasn't doing so well and so she had to go into the hospital for a couple of weeks. I know that this was a difficult time for your family, but they were willing to do anything to take care of you and your mom. We could already tell that they loved you very much and your Aunt Melissa and I began to grow in our love for you also. We thought and prayed for you and your mom quite often now. A few weeks later your mom was doing better and they let her go home from the hospital, with which news I'm sure she was very excited and I bet that you probably felt her happiness from inside her stomach. Yet she still had to go into the hospital every day for check-ups. This took many hours, but we all knew that your mom and dad loved you very much and so it wasn't too many hours for them.
Our spring semester of school at our seminary had just ended and your Aunt Melissa and I were sitting in a pizza restaurant out in Cape Cod where we were staying to celebrate our second anniversary when we received the call announcing your birth. A big smile came across my face. Your Aunt Melissa saw my face and she knew. We were very happy for you, but concerned because some of the doctors were worried about you. I had never had a niece before and we were very happy and we continued to pray for you.
The next day your Aunt Melissa and I had just finished biking a tiring backwoods trail to the ocean and back, on our tandem bike and we were sitting on a bench, resting and looking out over the landscape when my phone rang. It was your grandmother. I asked how you were doing and after a moment of silence your grandmother said, "We gave her back to Jesus." "You gave her back?" I said. "Yes." she said. We cried.
She said that your whole family, even your brother, your grandparents, and some of your aunts and uncles had all gathered together and to hold you and to say goodbye. But your Aunt Melissa and I weren't able to be there. We weren't able to say goodbye. And so now we do. Goodbye Arrayah. Goodbye. Though we never got to see you we are sure that you were very beautiful and all the problems you had could not stop God from revealing himself through a child who never uttered a word. Not a pulpit, not a sleek presentation, not a best selling book, but in a four pound seven ounce girl with Triploidy disease, God found great pleasure in taking a lowly thing in the eyes of the world to show truth.
So today we celebrate. Arrayah you are well. And although we miss you more than we can express, we're only separated by our time here on earth. See you soon niece.
With much love from your Uncle and Aunt,
Philip and Melissa
“But Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven" (ESV Matthew 19:14).
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
April - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian
It has been a busy month since Melissa and I last wrote. Our spring semester of school has been successfully finished and Melissa and I have plans to travel down to Cape Cod to celebrate our second anniversary (which was actually April 23rd), so we are looking forward to that.
Our exciting month began with an incredible Holy Week at our church, especially the Triduum service which consists of Maundy Thursday (Jesus last meal with his disciples), Good Friday, and the Great Vigil of Easter (Easter actually begins at Sundown on Saturday since according to the Jewish calendar the day ends and another begins at sundown). Beginning on Thursday, midway through the service the lights begin to dim, the songs become slow and sad and the mood somber, rather like a funeral. The priests wear black. There are many periods of silence. The readings are those of Christ's passion: his capture while praying in the garden and then on Friday, his crucifixion. Christ is dead and a sinking heavy feeling comes upon you throughout the day. It is as if you are experiencing Christ's suffering along with him. With this atmosphere and emotion the Easter Vigil begins on Saturday, in complete darkness. However, about midway through the service as the church begins to fill with candle light, Easter begins. After suffering through these mournful, wearisome, and solemn services (of which the church has been packed every night since Thursday) we can hardly await the words of the priest as he shouts three times, "Alleluia! Christ is risen!" and we all shout back, "The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!" Suddenly, a great change comes upon the room. All the lights are now on as bright as possible. Everyone is crying, yelling and screaming in celebration. Christ is risen! Energy is pulsating through the room like you've never felt before as people pull bells out of their coats, purses and bags and began shaking and ringing them with all of their might. You are now yelling in excitement as loud as you can, but you cannot hear yourself. The room is filled with sounds of worshippers bellowing and singing at the top of their lungs praises to God. Hands are raised and everyone is whistling and shouting and crying all at the same time. Alleluia! Christ is risen!
A week later, we boarded a plane and flew down to Florida to go before the Commission on Ministry for an emotionally tumultuous weekend in the ordination process. I, along with six others, would go before a group of about twenty to thirty clergy and laypeople who would say to me after the weekend, "Yes, we affirm your calling to the priesthood and encourage you to continue the process." Or "No, we do not think that you are called to be a priest." My destiny, I felt was in there hands. The weekend retreat is called BACAM, which stands for the Bishop's Advisory Counsel on Aspirants for Ministry. It is from their recommendation that the bishop normally chooses who will go forward to become an official Postulant, which is a Latin word for "asking" or "requesting," in this case, to be a priest. So, on Friday Melissa and I arrived at the retreat center and met with the commission for dinner and introductions and then after a sleepless night, we went before four smaller committees of two to three people each to be interviewed on four different areas. Then lunch, and then we left, however the commission stayed at the retreat center to discuss the participants and to decide those which they would recommend to the bishop and those who they would not. Melissa and I flew home and waited. We waited with eagerness and a little fear too for the arrival of the bishops letter with the news. On Thursday it came. I brought it upstairs and looked at it for a moment before calling Melissa who was at work at the time. "It's here." I said. "Did you open it?" she asked. "No, I wanted to call you first so that you would be on the phone when I opened it." And then I did, and I read the words from Bishop Howe, "Dear Philip: I am happy to report to you that the Commission on Ministry has recommended to me, as a result of the BACAM Conference held on April 13th and 14th, that you continue in the process toward Ordination to the priesthood. I am delighted to accept that recommendation." Woo-hoo! I made it.
The one other piece of news that you should know about is our plans for this summer. One of the steps in the ordination process is to take Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) which is a program of intensive training, encountering people in crisis within the hospital setting. I had applied, interviewed and been accepted into a summer CPE program this past December, but had turned it down due to financial concerns. However because the Commission on Ministry strongly recommended that I go through the program this summer, even though it is going to be a great faith and financial stretch for Melissa and I, we decided to see what I could do. Upon arriving back in Massachusetts I called the hospital where I was previously accepted. However, as is understandable they had given away the spot which was previously offered to me. So, I called every CPE program within an hour and a half radius as well as Florida (where Melissa's family lives) and Michigan (where my family lives), but was unable to find any openings this late in the game since it is normal to apply, be interviewed and then accepted six months in advance of the beginning of the program. However God is merciful and within a few days I received a call from a hospital which is located about thirty to forty-five minutes from our house with a position that had recently opened. I was interviewed and soon afterward, learned that I had been accepted into the program. So, I'll be spending over forty hours a week throughout this summer meeting with folks in any of the units from intensive care to cardiac, birthing or even a locked psychiatric unit. It is supposed to be a rigorous and often difficult and heart wrenching experience, but also a time of intensive growth. I'm looking forward to ministering to and learning from the many people with whom I'll be meeting as a hospital chaplain.
As you can see from the above, this last month has been a big experience in learning to trust God. He knows what he is doing and has been taking excellent care of us, though sometimes I have trouble seeing this over the looming challenges. Though I occasionally doubt my calling to be a priest when seeming difficulties and challenges arise, God continues to provide and to keep opening the doors and so we continue to move forward. Thank you for all your prayers and encouragements.
Our exciting month began with an incredible Holy Week at our church, especially the Triduum service which consists of Maundy Thursday (Jesus last meal with his disciples), Good Friday, and the Great Vigil of Easter (Easter actually begins at Sundown on Saturday since according to the Jewish calendar the day ends and another begins at sundown). Beginning on Thursday, midway through the service the lights begin to dim, the songs become slow and sad and the mood somber, rather like a funeral. The priests wear black. There are many periods of silence. The readings are those of Christ's passion: his capture while praying in the garden and then on Friday, his crucifixion. Christ is dead and a sinking heavy feeling comes upon you throughout the day. It is as if you are experiencing Christ's suffering along with him. With this atmosphere and emotion the Easter Vigil begins on Saturday, in complete darkness. However, about midway through the service as the church begins to fill with candle light, Easter begins. After suffering through these mournful, wearisome, and solemn services (of which the church has been packed every night since Thursday) we can hardly await the words of the priest as he shouts three times, "Alleluia! Christ is risen!" and we all shout back, "The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!" Suddenly, a great change comes upon the room. All the lights are now on as bright as possible. Everyone is crying, yelling and screaming in celebration. Christ is risen! Energy is pulsating through the room like you've never felt before as people pull bells out of their coats, purses and bags and began shaking and ringing them with all of their might. You are now yelling in excitement as loud as you can, but you cannot hear yourself. The room is filled with sounds of worshippers bellowing and singing at the top of their lungs praises to God. Hands are raised and everyone is whistling and shouting and crying all at the same time. Alleluia! Christ is risen!
A week later, we boarded a plane and flew down to Florida to go before the Commission on Ministry for an emotionally tumultuous weekend in the ordination process. I, along with six others, would go before a group of about twenty to thirty clergy and laypeople who would say to me after the weekend, "Yes, we affirm your calling to the priesthood and encourage you to continue the process." Or "No, we do not think that you are called to be a priest." My destiny, I felt was in there hands. The weekend retreat is called BACAM, which stands for the Bishop's Advisory Counsel on Aspirants for Ministry. It is from their recommendation that the bishop normally chooses who will go forward to become an official Postulant, which is a Latin word for "asking" or "requesting," in this case, to be a priest. So, on Friday Melissa and I arrived at the retreat center and met with the commission for dinner and introductions and then after a sleepless night, we went before four smaller committees of two to three people each to be interviewed on four different areas. Then lunch, and then we left, however the commission stayed at the retreat center to discuss the participants and to decide those which they would recommend to the bishop and those who they would not. Melissa and I flew home and waited. We waited with eagerness and a little fear too for the arrival of the bishops letter with the news. On Thursday it came. I brought it upstairs and looked at it for a moment before calling Melissa who was at work at the time. "It's here." I said. "Did you open it?" she asked. "No, I wanted to call you first so that you would be on the phone when I opened it." And then I did, and I read the words from Bishop Howe, "Dear Philip: I am happy to report to you that the Commission on Ministry has recommended to me, as a result of the BACAM Conference held on April 13th and 14th, that you continue in the process toward Ordination to the priesthood. I am delighted to accept that recommendation." Woo-hoo! I made it.
The one other piece of news that you should know about is our plans for this summer. One of the steps in the ordination process is to take Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) which is a program of intensive training, encountering people in crisis within the hospital setting. I had applied, interviewed and been accepted into a summer CPE program this past December, but had turned it down due to financial concerns. However because the Commission on Ministry strongly recommended that I go through the program this summer, even though it is going to be a great faith and financial stretch for Melissa and I, we decided to see what I could do. Upon arriving back in Massachusetts I called the hospital where I was previously accepted. However, as is understandable they had given away the spot which was previously offered to me. So, I called every CPE program within an hour and a half radius as well as Florida (where Melissa's family lives) and Michigan (where my family lives), but was unable to find any openings this late in the game since it is normal to apply, be interviewed and then accepted six months in advance of the beginning of the program. However God is merciful and within a few days I received a call from a hospital which is located about thirty to forty-five minutes from our house with a position that had recently opened. I was interviewed and soon afterward, learned that I had been accepted into the program. So, I'll be spending over forty hours a week throughout this summer meeting with folks in any of the units from intensive care to cardiac, birthing or even a locked psychiatric unit. It is supposed to be a rigorous and often difficult and heart wrenching experience, but also a time of intensive growth. I'm looking forward to ministering to and learning from the many people with whom I'll be meeting as a hospital chaplain.
As you can see from the above, this last month has been a big experience in learning to trust God. He knows what he is doing and has been taking excellent care of us, though sometimes I have trouble seeing this over the looming challenges. Though I occasionally doubt my calling to be a priest when seeming difficulties and challenges arise, God continues to provide and to keep opening the doors and so we continue to move forward. Thank you for all your prayers and encouragements.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Saturday, April 07, 2007
March - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian
Greetings all from Massachusetts,
The weather here has been traumatizing lately. Some folks—including my wife—are nearing mental breakdown due to the tantalizing sunshine and sixty degree flirtations, which are here for a day and then followed by the normal slew of snow and ice. Today is another one of those teasing days—though I can see brightness shining through our venation blinds I don’t know what the temperature is since I haven’t been outside yet, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. Winter, here in Mass is rather like a bad sermon—never ending.
The big news from this past month was our trip to Nashotah House Theological Seminary in Wisconsin. Melissa and I met with Bishop Howe back in December and he had mentioned that he would like us to visit the school and strongly consider studying there for a year. So, the wife and I piled into our car along with our travel pillows some tubes of Pringles, Little Debbie Cakes and a couple of suitcases. Twelve hours later after traversing across the state trooper laden highways of New York and the deserted stretches of Canada we arrived in Detroit, Michigan to slumber on a friend’s couch. The next day we drove to Chicago for dinner with my sister and her husband and a fitful sleep on an over inflated air mattress (Melissa liked it). Finally, on Thursday morning we drove up along Lake Michigan into Wisconsin and arrived at our destination.
Just outside of a quant little town called Delafield—which reminds one of driving through Pleasantville—near wide swaths of farmer’s fields one can find the seminary hiding away from the road on the eastern shore of Nashotah Lake. Melissa said the school reminded her of a retreat center quietly placed amidst towering trees. We arrived in time for the first class of the morning: Ascetical Theology (a class focused on the priesthood and Christian spirituality in ministry; in particular the priest’s role as spiritual guide and confessor) with Father Klukas. While he lectured, students laughed about his stories and jokes concerning the priesthood and tossed in jokes of their own—all of this while scribbling or typing notes concerning the theology of the priesthood. The atmosphere was very different from the serious, overworked tone of the students where Melissa and I currently attend. Throughout the rest of the day at the little school, (about 75 students total) folks warmly greeted us with an outstretched hand and a smiling face. That afternoon I was interviewed by the dean, registrar and a leading member of the faculty, and then after gathering for chapel that afternoon, a couple from the school took us out for supper. Ah, the memories I still have from that rib-eye steak and glass of Valley Of The Moon Sangiovese, though the slice of cucumber that they put in my water was a little weird. The next morning I got up for the daily chapel service and enjoyed the service, though my knees felt like a little kid after his first couple of days learning to rollerblade. The folks at Nashotah like to kneel a lot—with no padding. After attending a few more classes we grabbed some lunch in their cafeteria, thanked everyone at Nashotah for their hospitality and were off on our cross-country journey back to New England. We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to the seminary. We were impressed by the culture—friendly and close knit and unlike Gordon-Conwell, which trains scholars, Nashotah House is forming pastors to serve people. Melissa and I are feeling drawn by God and have been praying quite a bit about a potential move there this fall.
Back at the homestead, I was preaching about the Sabbath a few weeks ago at our local parish. As I was coming to the end of my sermon I said, “There are three ways that we can practice Sabbath in our lives” then I gave the first and the second, but I couldn't think of the third. I went blank and I had just promised to share three ways. This has long been my greatest fear, especially as of late since I have been working on preaching note-less. The normal reaction when you go blank is to review the points of you sermon up until then, with the audience and this gives you time to remember what is next. So, that is what I did, but I still didn’t remember. Nothing. I said, “You know what, I can't remember the third way that we should put this into practice.” Everyone laughed. While they were laughing, the point came to me and I finished the sermon well. Going blank is not so bad. Suffering through my worst fear was a good experience for me.
Blessings,
Philip and Melissa
The weather here has been traumatizing lately. Some folks—including my wife—are nearing mental breakdown due to the tantalizing sunshine and sixty degree flirtations, which are here for a day and then followed by the normal slew of snow and ice. Today is another one of those teasing days—though I can see brightness shining through our venation blinds I don’t know what the temperature is since I haven’t been outside yet, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. Winter, here in Mass is rather like a bad sermon—never ending.
The big news from this past month was our trip to Nashotah House Theological Seminary in Wisconsin. Melissa and I met with Bishop Howe back in December and he had mentioned that he would like us to visit the school and strongly consider studying there for a year. So, the wife and I piled into our car along with our travel pillows some tubes of Pringles, Little Debbie Cakes and a couple of suitcases. Twelve hours later after traversing across the state trooper laden highways of New York and the deserted stretches of Canada we arrived in Detroit, Michigan to slumber on a friend’s couch. The next day we drove to Chicago for dinner with my sister and her husband and a fitful sleep on an over inflated air mattress (Melissa liked it). Finally, on Thursday morning we drove up along Lake Michigan into Wisconsin and arrived at our destination.
Just outside of a quant little town called Delafield—which reminds one of driving through Pleasantville—near wide swaths of farmer’s fields one can find the seminary hiding away from the road on the eastern shore of Nashotah Lake. Melissa said the school reminded her of a retreat center quietly placed amidst towering trees. We arrived in time for the first class of the morning: Ascetical Theology (a class focused on the priesthood and Christian spirituality in ministry; in particular the priest’s role as spiritual guide and confessor) with Father Klukas. While he lectured, students laughed about his stories and jokes concerning the priesthood and tossed in jokes of their own—all of this while scribbling or typing notes concerning the theology of the priesthood. The atmosphere was very different from the serious, overworked tone of the students where Melissa and I currently attend. Throughout the rest of the day at the little school, (about 75 students total) folks warmly greeted us with an outstretched hand and a smiling face. That afternoon I was interviewed by the dean, registrar and a leading member of the faculty, and then after gathering for chapel that afternoon, a couple from the school took us out for supper. Ah, the memories I still have from that rib-eye steak and glass of Valley Of The Moon Sangiovese, though the slice of cucumber that they put in my water was a little weird. The next morning I got up for the daily chapel service and enjoyed the service, though my knees felt like a little kid after his first couple of days learning to rollerblade. The folks at Nashotah like to kneel a lot—with no padding. After attending a few more classes we grabbed some lunch in their cafeteria, thanked everyone at Nashotah for their hospitality and were off on our cross-country journey back to New England. We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to the seminary. We were impressed by the culture—friendly and close knit and unlike Gordon-Conwell, which trains scholars, Nashotah House is forming pastors to serve people. Melissa and I are feeling drawn by God and have been praying quite a bit about a potential move there this fall.
Back at the homestead, I was preaching about the Sabbath a few weeks ago at our local parish. As I was coming to the end of my sermon I said, “There are three ways that we can practice Sabbath in our lives” then I gave the first and the second, but I couldn't think of the third. I went blank and I had just promised to share three ways. This has long been my greatest fear, especially as of late since I have been working on preaching note-less. The normal reaction when you go blank is to review the points of you sermon up until then, with the audience and this gives you time to remember what is next. So, that is what I did, but I still didn’t remember. Nothing. I said, “You know what, I can't remember the third way that we should put this into practice.” Everyone laughed. While they were laughing, the point came to me and I finished the sermon well. Going blank is not so bad. Suffering through my worst fear was a good experience for me.
Blessings,
Philip and Melissa
Saturday, March 03, 2007
A Chilly Run
During our youth skiing and snowboarding trip this past January, I persuaded some of the teen guys, including Ralph, who you see in this picture with me, to run in our swimming trunks back from the pool to the condo where we were staying. I think that it was around seven degrees outside that evening. By the time we made it back to the room our hair was frozen! Talk about a rush!
February - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian
Greetings all, from icy Massachusetts. Melissa and I have amazingly made it through all twenty-eight days of February. One day the frozen water was so thick on the car windshield that I might as well have been chipping away at a granite carving with a plastic fork.
A couple of weeks ago we had the excellent opportunity of pet and house-sitting for a family in our church while they went to Antigua for the weekend. The place was huge with fireplaces, a sauna shower, maids that came nearly every day and even an outdoor hot tub that was kept at 104 degrees! If you could bear walking across the icy snow in your bare feet (which we did) the pool of steaming water was waiting to melt you like a marshmallow in hot chocolate. Oh, and I was even allowed to use the Audi—heated seats and all! What a grand little blessing from God for Melissa and me.
However the big news of the month is that on February nineteenth, I boarded a plane and flew to Florida for a rigorous week of meeting with the parish discernment committee from the church that is sponsoring me for the priesthood. The week went well. The structural design of the meetings created an excellent atmosphere for in-depth questioning and discussion of my life and ministry. Though I had known some of the folks on the committee for quite a while, others I met for the first time and so our first assembly consisted of a light evening of conversation, laughter and enjoying a meal together. The second meeting, like the first was an enriching time of relational building as we went around the room and shared our stories, our struggles and triumphs. It was a heart-felt gathering even bringing tears to some, and an eye opener for me to have the privilege of being able to be part of the lives of some wonderful people. There could not have been chosen a finer, more thoughtful and caring group of folks with whom to complete this part of the process toward holy orders. Also during the week I was able to help out with the pancake dinner on Shrove Tuesday and assist in a church workday on Saturday to clean out the attic and I enjoyed getting to better know some of the folks on the committee in a different and less formal setting. The last few meetings involved many questions about my life, calling, gifts, and theology, past ministry experiences, strengths and areas which are in need of improvement. It was a challenging but excellent and extremely beneficial experience.
Now I am back in Massachusetts with my much missed wife. She would have loved to come to Florida with me if she could have obtained the needed time in the midst of school and work commitments. Yet, now we are back together. And so I am back to studying theology and assisting at the church and enjoying the many good people who God has given us as friends here in New England.
A couple of weeks ago we had the excellent opportunity of pet and house-sitting for a family in our church while they went to Antigua for the weekend. The place was huge with fireplaces, a sauna shower, maids that came nearly every day and even an outdoor hot tub that was kept at 104 degrees! If you could bear walking across the icy snow in your bare feet (which we did) the pool of steaming water was waiting to melt you like a marshmallow in hot chocolate. Oh, and I was even allowed to use the Audi—heated seats and all! What a grand little blessing from God for Melissa and me.
However the big news of the month is that on February nineteenth, I boarded a plane and flew to Florida for a rigorous week of meeting with the parish discernment committee from the church that is sponsoring me for the priesthood. The week went well. The structural design of the meetings created an excellent atmosphere for in-depth questioning and discussion of my life and ministry. Though I had known some of the folks on the committee for quite a while, others I met for the first time and so our first assembly consisted of a light evening of conversation, laughter and enjoying a meal together. The second meeting, like the first was an enriching time of relational building as we went around the room and shared our stories, our struggles and triumphs. It was a heart-felt gathering even bringing tears to some, and an eye opener for me to have the privilege of being able to be part of the lives of some wonderful people. There could not have been chosen a finer, more thoughtful and caring group of folks with whom to complete this part of the process toward holy orders. Also during the week I was able to help out with the pancake dinner on Shrove Tuesday and assist in a church workday on Saturday to clean out the attic and I enjoyed getting to better know some of the folks on the committee in a different and less formal setting. The last few meetings involved many questions about my life, calling, gifts, and theology, past ministry experiences, strengths and areas which are in need of improvement. It was a challenging but excellent and extremely beneficial experience.
Now I am back in Massachusetts with my much missed wife. She would have loved to come to Florida with me if she could have obtained the needed time in the midst of school and work commitments. Yet, now we are back together. And so I am back to studying theology and assisting at the church and enjoying the many good people who God has given us as friends here in New England.
Monday, February 05, 2007
January - a month in the Life of a Seminarian
Meeting with the Church in
Greetings, I hope that you had a wonderful Christmas. Melissa and I had an excellent time down in
On the first Sunday after Christmas I was honored to be invited to preach at the parish of Father
Fun with Family
We also had a nice time visiting with family. Melissa's sister and her husband generously hosted us and lovingly put up with our hectic holiday schedule. We spent much time going back and forth from house to house seeing Melissa's mother and father, uncles, aunts, cousins and friends, and going to multiple Christmas parties. Attempting to fit months and months worth of family relationships into a couple of short weeks is not a simple task. One of our Christmas gifts was to be able to go and see an amazing indoor display of ice sculptures- something one would not normally expect in sunny
Life in
The day after our return to
Thank you for all of your prayers. Melissa and I would love to hear about what is happening in your life. Feel free to email us.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Youth Sermon on Persecution
Throughout this past week I worked on preparing my talk for the youth ministry this coming Sunday. I normally have three struggles when I am preparing a sermon: first not knowing what to say; second, after some time spent researching and studying, having too much to say and not knowing what to cut out of the talk; and third, often personal struggles and convictions. It was this third problem that was a continual difficulty for me in preparing my talk for Sunday on the last beatitude: blessed are the persecuted. As I began to research this beatitude, as I have been during my previous teachings on the beatitudes I read Gregory of Nyssa’s sermon on this eighth beatitude and according to his writing early Christians threw themselves headlong in eagerness toward persecution. This of course did not originate with Gregory for we also find it in Hebrews: “Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection” (11:35). As an American with implanted cultural values such as the utmost importance of human life above all other things (humanism) and production, at first thought it seems to me that the wiser choice would be to flee persecution, preserve your life and then spread the gospel to others. Does that not seem like a much more sensible choice? Yet both Jesus and the author of Hebrews commends those who are persecuted. And so I wrestle.
Here is my talk:
MESSAGE
Beatitudes: Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, because great is their reward in heaven (Matthew 5:10-12)
INTRODUCTION
(While adding ice and salt to a five gallon bucket of water and then stirring say) I am creating an incredibly cold bucket of water, with not only ice, but salt which lowers the temperature at which water freezes, thus creating extremely cold water. I have here twenty marbles (drop them in the bucket) I also have twenty one dollar bills of which I will give you one dollar for every marble that you take out of the bucket—with your toes. Now this is going to hurt—BAD! Who is willing to go for it?
Why was _____ willing to go through the pain of sticking his foot into freezing cold water? Because he was no thinking about the pain of the water, but about the reward. That is what Jesus was saying when he said “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (Matthew 5:10-12). I have only two points: Persecution and Reward.
PERSECUTION
So onto number one: Persecution: Just a few months ago Chinese Christians were attempting to build a church for about 5,000 parishioners. “Witnesses told TIME that at about 2:30 p.m., thousands of uniformed police and plainclothes security officers appeared at the construction site. The police cleared a way through the crowds for a few drill-equipped backhoes, and the authorities then demolished the church. Witnesses say police bludgeoned people indiscriminately with nightsticks. "They were picking up women--some of them old ladies--by their hair and swinging them around like dolls, then letting them crash to the ground," says a man who watched the clash from across the street.” [1] Yet even with all of this persecution there are currently there are 65 million Chinese believers and thousands more converting every day.[2]
By the time he was fourteen years old Richard Wurmbrand had became an atheist and believed that notions toward religion or believing in God were harmful toward humanity. Yet, for some odd reason he was continually drawn toward churches and would often listen to sermons, yet nothing changed in his heart. One day he prayed, “God, I know surely that you do not exist. But if perchance you exist, which I contest, it is not my duty to believe in You; it is Your duty to reveal Yourself to me.”[3]
During this same time an old builder who lived high up in the village also prayed that God would give him his reward here on earth as well as in heaven and prayed that his reward would be bringing a Jew to Christ since Jesus was born to the Jewish people. Now this was an odd prayer for him to pray since there were no Jews in his village. Interestingly, Richard Wurmbrand was a Jew and he said that for no reason at all he felt drawn to that village. There were twelve-thousand villages in Romania, yet he went to that one. Richard Wurmbrand went on to tell that that when he went to the village that old builder went after him like never a young boy went after a beautiful girl and he gave him a Bible to read. Now Richard Wurmbrand had read the Bible before out of cultural interest, but this was different. The old builder would later tell Richard Wurmbrand that he and his wife had prayed for hours and hours for his conversion to Christ. “The Bible he gave me was written not so much in words, but in flames of love fired by his prayers.”[4] He could barely read, but rather cry as he opened the pages and compared his life with Christ’s. He soon came to the faith and became a wildman for Christ spreading the gospel and pasturing those who had come to the faith.
It was during this time that Russians took over Romania and brought communism to power. Richard Wurmbrand considered this to be a great opportunity to spread the gospel since many Russians are raised from childhood as atheists. One day Richard Wurmbrand went into the Russian army barracks and pretended he wanted to buy a watch, but instead he began asking the Russians “Are any of you named Paul or Peter?” some were and he began telling them about the Apostles Peter and Paul. Soon a group of men gathered around him. Returned often to the barracks to talk to the men and many would soon take up the Christian faith. The Russians loved children and he would often send his children to give the solders Bibles and other books about the faith. Soon many Russians came to the faith and Richard Wurmbrand became their pastor. The communists however saw this as a threat to the political system they were trying to build and threw Richard Wurmbrand into prison.
While in jail, the communists wanted him to tell them who and where the rest of the Christians were, but Richard Wurmbrand refused. So they put handcuffs on him that has sharp nails and poked inward toward his wrist. If he remained perfectly still the nails would not hurt. But because it was cold he would began to shake and soon the nails were digging into his skin. Or other times they would put him into a freezer and just before he felt as if he were to die, they would take him out and allow him to become warm and then they would put him back into the freezer again. They did this repeatedly. Or they would make him and the other prisoners stand in boxes with sharp nails and other sharp objects poking inward. As long as you stood perfectly still you would not get poked, but since you were required to stand for hours, standing still was impossible and the objects pierced his sides. Other times in order to get him to deny his faith they would burn him with red hot irons, yet Richard Wurmbrand would not give in.
While he was in prison he preached the gospel to his fellow prisoners. He said we had a deal: we preached, they beat. They were happy beating, we were happy preaching. He told of one man who was caught preaching and sharing his faith and the guards grabbed him, hauled him off and beat him so badly that he could hardly stand and then threw him back into the cell. The man struggled to get up off of the floor and as he pulled himself up he said, “Now brothers where were we?”
Another Christian was burnt with red hot pokers and cut with knives until he had open sores all over his body. Then they forced starving rats into his cell through a pipe, which he had to constantly fight off to keep from attacking him. Even worse when he would not give up the names and locations of Christians he knew outside of the prison they began beating his own son in front him, until finally he could not take it any more and he said, “’Alexander, I must say what they want! I can’t bear your beating anymore!’ The son answered, ‘Father, don’t do me the injustice of having a traitor as a parent. Withstand! If they kill me, I will die with the words, “Jesus and my Fatherland.”’ The Communists, enraged, fell upon the child and beat him to death, with blood spattered over the walls of the cell. He died praising God.”[5] The man who watched was never the same after seeing this.
The author of Hebrews wrote “Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated--the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground” (11:35-38).
St. Gregory of Nyssa wrote of early Christians: “Thus Paul receives the cross, James the sword; Stephen the stones, the blessed Peter is crucified head downwards. All the later fighters for the faith suffer many forms of torture, being thrown to the beasts and into pits, being burned with fire or frozen with cold, having their sides flayed and their heads transfixed by nails; or their eyes are put out, their fingers cut off, their bodies are rent in two by their legs beign pulled apart, or they suffer starvation. . . Thefore, Blessed are those who suffer persecution for my sake.”[6]
The current rate of martyrdom is 100,000 to 200,000 killed each year and this number is growing as more folks become Christians—even through these horrible persecutions, Christianity continues to grow and thrive.
REWARD
Which brings us to number two: Reward. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10) Here on earth those who are persecuted have the honor of becoming part of a kingdom where Jesus is king. Yet not only are we rewarded here for suffering for Christ but also in heaven. We are to rejoice since Jesus said “great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (5:12). Many times while Richard Wurmbrand was in prison he told of Christians who with smiles and excitement on their faces, were actually happy about their persecutions because they were to be counted among those great prophets of old, heroes of the faith. Isaiah who was sawn in two, Jeremiah who was reviled and thrown into a cistern, and Daniel who was thrown to lions and God delivered him. Our lord and savior Jesus Christ was persecuted, as was the Apostles Peter, who was nailed upside down to a tree, James who was thrown off of the temple and clubbed to death and John who they put inside of a pot of boiling oil. Those who are persecuted get to be part of the group of the great men and women of the faith. Though we do not know exactly what it is, the reward in heaven is great—truly great. The reward will be so great that the sufferings will almost be forgotten as nothing in comparison. Saint Teresa said that an entire life of pain can be compared to one night in an inconvenient hotel, that is how great our reward. Paul said “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).
CONCLUSION
Jesus said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10). “All Christians are persecuted, but some more than others for two reasons. Either they live in an unusually evil environment or they are unusually good Christians. Most of us aren’t good enough to be persecuted much by the paganism of one of the most Christian nations in the world. Since most of us are lukewarm, we are therefore safe, for the world persecutes mainly great saints and great sinners.”[7]
However, for those of us who are willing to do whatever it takes to live righteously as Christians there will be persecution. Yet we take comfort in knowing that “The very worst the world can do is kill us, and all that does is send us Home. There is simply nothing left to fear, “neither death nor life, nor angles nor principalities nor powers, nor any other created thing” (Rom 8:38-39).”[8] The apostle Paul stuck his tongue out at death and said “O death where is your sting? O Hell, where is your victory?” (1 Cor 15:55)
In your life you may be persecuted at school for living righteously: Maybe it is because your refuse to cheat on a test. Perhaps you have decided to keep yourself sexually pure. Or guys, when everyone else is looking at porn you turn away. Maybe you will be persecuted for refusing to fight someone who is angry at you—and this does not mean simply physical fighting, but also choosing not to fight back with your words. Perhaps you will be made fun of for hanging out with that kid who always has a booger hanging half out of his nose. I do not know what it may be, but my question to you is do you have what it takes to stand up to persecution for doing the right thing. Are you willing to go the distance no matter what the cost?
I would encourage you to find out more about what is going on in the church around the world. You can read more about Richard Wurmbrand’s incredible story, some of which I have shared with you today, in his book, Tortured for Christ which has sold millions of copies and been translated into 65 languages. There is also this series put out by dc Talk called Jesus Freaks and is filled with incredible stories of Christians and their extreme faith and the classic text of great men and women who have been killed for their faith is this book, Fox’s Book of Martyrs. If you are up for some incredible and inspirational stories I would encourage you to buy one of these books.
There was a young Christian girl who communists were intending to arrest because of her faith, yet to make her arrest crueler they waited until her wedding day. As she was standing at the altar getting married to her husband, the secret police burst into the room, grabbed her and put chains on her wrists. The young bride leaned down and kissed the chains and said, “I thank my heavenly Bridegroom for this jewel He has presented to me on my marriage day. I thank Him that I am worthy to suffer for him.”[9]
May we also be willing to suffer for the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1] Simon Elegant / Nangjing "The Ware for China's Soul" Time: From the Magazine (Sunday, Aug. 20, 2006), http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1229123,00.html.
[2] Richard Wurmbrand, Tortured for Christ (Battlesville: Living Sacrifice Book Company, 1998), 12.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid, 13.
[5] Ibid, 34.
[6] St. Gregory of Nyssa, The Beatitudes, “Sermon 8”
[7] Peter Kreeft, Back to Virtue: Traditional Moral Wisdom For Modern Moral Confusion, (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1992), 184.
[8] Ibid, 187.
[9] Ibid, 38.
Here is my talk:
MESSAGE
Beatitudes: Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, because great is their reward in heaven (Matthew 5:10-12)
INTRODUCTION
(While adding ice and salt to a five gallon bucket of water and then stirring say) I am creating an incredibly cold bucket of water, with not only ice, but salt which lowers the temperature at which water freezes, thus creating extremely cold water. I have here twenty marbles (drop them in the bucket) I also have twenty one dollar bills of which I will give you one dollar for every marble that you take out of the bucket—with your toes. Now this is going to hurt—BAD! Who is willing to go for it?
Why was _____ willing to go through the pain of sticking his foot into freezing cold water? Because he was no thinking about the pain of the water, but about the reward. That is what Jesus was saying when he said “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (Matthew 5:10-12). I have only two points: Persecution and Reward.
PERSECUTION
So onto number one: Persecution: Just a few months ago Chinese Christians were attempting to build a church for about 5,000 parishioners. “Witnesses told TIME that at about 2:30 p.m., thousands of uniformed police and plainclothes security officers appeared at the construction site. The police cleared a way through the crowds for a few drill-equipped backhoes, and the authorities then demolished the church. Witnesses say police bludgeoned people indiscriminately with nightsticks. "They were picking up women--some of them old ladies--by their hair and swinging them around like dolls, then letting them crash to the ground," says a man who watched the clash from across the street.” [1] Yet even with all of this persecution there are currently there are 65 million Chinese believers and thousands more converting every day.[2]
By the time he was fourteen years old Richard Wurmbrand had became an atheist and believed that notions toward religion or believing in God were harmful toward humanity. Yet, for some odd reason he was continually drawn toward churches and would often listen to sermons, yet nothing changed in his heart. One day he prayed, “God, I know surely that you do not exist. But if perchance you exist, which I contest, it is not my duty to believe in You; it is Your duty to reveal Yourself to me.”[3]
During this same time an old builder who lived high up in the village also prayed that God would give him his reward here on earth as well as in heaven and prayed that his reward would be bringing a Jew to Christ since Jesus was born to the Jewish people. Now this was an odd prayer for him to pray since there were no Jews in his village. Interestingly, Richard Wurmbrand was a Jew and he said that for no reason at all he felt drawn to that village. There were twelve-thousand villages in Romania, yet he went to that one. Richard Wurmbrand went on to tell that that when he went to the village that old builder went after him like never a young boy went after a beautiful girl and he gave him a Bible to read. Now Richard Wurmbrand had read the Bible before out of cultural interest, but this was different. The old builder would later tell Richard Wurmbrand that he and his wife had prayed for hours and hours for his conversion to Christ. “The Bible he gave me was written not so much in words, but in flames of love fired by his prayers.”[4] He could barely read, but rather cry as he opened the pages and compared his life with Christ’s. He soon came to the faith and became a wildman for Christ spreading the gospel and pasturing those who had come to the faith.
It was during this time that Russians took over Romania and brought communism to power. Richard Wurmbrand considered this to be a great opportunity to spread the gospel since many Russians are raised from childhood as atheists. One day Richard Wurmbrand went into the Russian army barracks and pretended he wanted to buy a watch, but instead he began asking the Russians “Are any of you named Paul or Peter?” some were and he began telling them about the Apostles Peter and Paul. Soon a group of men gathered around him. Returned often to the barracks to talk to the men and many would soon take up the Christian faith. The Russians loved children and he would often send his children to give the solders Bibles and other books about the faith. Soon many Russians came to the faith and Richard Wurmbrand became their pastor. The communists however saw this as a threat to the political system they were trying to build and threw Richard Wurmbrand into prison.
While in jail, the communists wanted him to tell them who and where the rest of the Christians were, but Richard Wurmbrand refused. So they put handcuffs on him that has sharp nails and poked inward toward his wrist. If he remained perfectly still the nails would not hurt. But because it was cold he would began to shake and soon the nails were digging into his skin. Or other times they would put him into a freezer and just before he felt as if he were to die, they would take him out and allow him to become warm and then they would put him back into the freezer again. They did this repeatedly. Or they would make him and the other prisoners stand in boxes with sharp nails and other sharp objects poking inward. As long as you stood perfectly still you would not get poked, but since you were required to stand for hours, standing still was impossible and the objects pierced his sides. Other times in order to get him to deny his faith they would burn him with red hot irons, yet Richard Wurmbrand would not give in.
While he was in prison he preached the gospel to his fellow prisoners. He said we had a deal: we preached, they beat. They were happy beating, we were happy preaching. He told of one man who was caught preaching and sharing his faith and the guards grabbed him, hauled him off and beat him so badly that he could hardly stand and then threw him back into the cell. The man struggled to get up off of the floor and as he pulled himself up he said, “Now brothers where were we?”
Another Christian was burnt with red hot pokers and cut with knives until he had open sores all over his body. Then they forced starving rats into his cell through a pipe, which he had to constantly fight off to keep from attacking him. Even worse when he would not give up the names and locations of Christians he knew outside of the prison they began beating his own son in front him, until finally he could not take it any more and he said, “’Alexander, I must say what they want! I can’t bear your beating anymore!’ The son answered, ‘Father, don’t do me the injustice of having a traitor as a parent. Withstand! If they kill me, I will die with the words, “Jesus and my Fatherland.”’ The Communists, enraged, fell upon the child and beat him to death, with blood spattered over the walls of the cell. He died praising God.”[5] The man who watched was never the same after seeing this.
The author of Hebrews wrote “Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated--the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground” (11:35-38).
St. Gregory of Nyssa wrote of early Christians: “Thus Paul receives the cross, James the sword; Stephen the stones, the blessed Peter is crucified head downwards. All the later fighters for the faith suffer many forms of torture, being thrown to the beasts and into pits, being burned with fire or frozen with cold, having their sides flayed and their heads transfixed by nails; or their eyes are put out, their fingers cut off, their bodies are rent in two by their legs beign pulled apart, or they suffer starvation. . . Thefore, Blessed are those who suffer persecution for my sake.”[6]
The current rate of martyrdom is 100,000 to 200,000 killed each year and this number is growing as more folks become Christians—even through these horrible persecutions, Christianity continues to grow and thrive.
REWARD
Which brings us to number two: Reward. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10) Here on earth those who are persecuted have the honor of becoming part of a kingdom where Jesus is king. Yet not only are we rewarded here for suffering for Christ but also in heaven. We are to rejoice since Jesus said “great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (5:12). Many times while Richard Wurmbrand was in prison he told of Christians who with smiles and excitement on their faces, were actually happy about their persecutions because they were to be counted among those great prophets of old, heroes of the faith. Isaiah who was sawn in two, Jeremiah who was reviled and thrown into a cistern, and Daniel who was thrown to lions and God delivered him. Our lord and savior Jesus Christ was persecuted, as was the Apostles Peter, who was nailed upside down to a tree, James who was thrown off of the temple and clubbed to death and John who they put inside of a pot of boiling oil. Those who are persecuted get to be part of the group of the great men and women of the faith. Though we do not know exactly what it is, the reward in heaven is great—truly great. The reward will be so great that the sufferings will almost be forgotten as nothing in comparison. Saint Teresa said that an entire life of pain can be compared to one night in an inconvenient hotel, that is how great our reward. Paul said “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).
CONCLUSION
Jesus said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10). “All Christians are persecuted, but some more than others for two reasons. Either they live in an unusually evil environment or they are unusually good Christians. Most of us aren’t good enough to be persecuted much by the paganism of one of the most Christian nations in the world. Since most of us are lukewarm, we are therefore safe, for the world persecutes mainly great saints and great sinners.”[7]
However, for those of us who are willing to do whatever it takes to live righteously as Christians there will be persecution. Yet we take comfort in knowing that “The very worst the world can do is kill us, and all that does is send us Home. There is simply nothing left to fear, “neither death nor life, nor angles nor principalities nor powers, nor any other created thing” (Rom 8:38-39).”[8] The apostle Paul stuck his tongue out at death and said “O death where is your sting? O Hell, where is your victory?” (1 Cor 15:55)
In your life you may be persecuted at school for living righteously: Maybe it is because your refuse to cheat on a test. Perhaps you have decided to keep yourself sexually pure. Or guys, when everyone else is looking at porn you turn away. Maybe you will be persecuted for refusing to fight someone who is angry at you—and this does not mean simply physical fighting, but also choosing not to fight back with your words. Perhaps you will be made fun of for hanging out with that kid who always has a booger hanging half out of his nose. I do not know what it may be, but my question to you is do you have what it takes to stand up to persecution for doing the right thing. Are you willing to go the distance no matter what the cost?
I would encourage you to find out more about what is going on in the church around the world. You can read more about Richard Wurmbrand’s incredible story, some of which I have shared with you today, in his book, Tortured for Christ which has sold millions of copies and been translated into 65 languages. There is also this series put out by dc Talk called Jesus Freaks and is filled with incredible stories of Christians and their extreme faith and the classic text of great men and women who have been killed for their faith is this book, Fox’s Book of Martyrs. If you are up for some incredible and inspirational stories I would encourage you to buy one of these books.
There was a young Christian girl who communists were intending to arrest because of her faith, yet to make her arrest crueler they waited until her wedding day. As she was standing at the altar getting married to her husband, the secret police burst into the room, grabbed her and put chains on her wrists. The young bride leaned down and kissed the chains and said, “I thank my heavenly Bridegroom for this jewel He has presented to me on my marriage day. I thank Him that I am worthy to suffer for him.”[9]
May we also be willing to suffer for the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1] Simon Elegant / Nangjing "The Ware for China's Soul" Time: From the Magazine (Sunday, Aug. 20, 2006), http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1229123,00.html.
[2] Richard Wurmbrand, Tortured for Christ (Battlesville: Living Sacrifice Book Company, 1998), 12.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid, 13.
[5] Ibid, 34.
[6] St. Gregory of Nyssa, The Beatitudes, “Sermon 8”
[7] Peter Kreeft, Back to Virtue: Traditional Moral Wisdom For Modern Moral Confusion, (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1992), 184.
[8] Ibid, 187.
[9] Ibid, 38.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Bishop Donald Harvey
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
C.S. Lewis
I was given the opportunity to preach today at Christ Church for two of the services. Below is my sermon.
According to the church calendar, today as you know, is the feast day of C.S. Lewis. When I first discovered the Anglican Church and learned of feast days I thought, "What a great church! We get to eat and have all of these grand feasts throughout the year!" However, I quickly learned that feast days simply refer to the days of the year that we remember those saints who have come before us and today we do so for Lewis. Clives Staples Lewis or "Jack" to his friends was ruddy apologist with baggy tweeds, a booming voice, bald head, and horne-rimmed spectacles. Many view him as the most well read Christian author of the 20th century. However his journey to Christianity took the first thirty-one years of his life. It is this story that I would like to share with you today as he recorded in his autobiography, Surprised By Joy.
As a child Lewis was rather withdrawn from what he viewed as a repressive life-a worldview that would quickly lead to atheism. He was not a popular boy. "I was big for my age," he wrote, "a great lout of a boy, and that sets one’s seniors against one. I was also useless at games. Worst of all, there was my face. I am the kind of person who gets told, ‘And take that look off your face too’"1 even though I was not trying to reveal any certain emotion. He did not really have any friends apart from his brother and he could often be found thumbing through the various stacks of books which his father and mother left scattered throughout the house and creating a written world he called animal land. After the death of his mother his father never really recovered. He was gone most of the time, thus leaving Lewis and his brother home alone and when his father was at home, he was quite absent minded, very emotional and had a horrible temper. Lewis and his brother were always looking forward to the next day when he would again leave for work. Lewis hated school and vividly remembered his first day when his mother dressed him in an outfit of stiff irritable clothes and sent him off. The teachers were cruel and beat him. Through these experiences he learned to hate the world in which he lived and God for creating such a place. He wrote, "I was at this time living, like so many Atheists or Antitheists, in a whirl of contradictions. I maintained that God did not exist. I was also very angry with God for not existing. I was equally angry with Him for creating a world"2. He would go on to study under a man who he called the Great Knock, who would open up his intellectual world and allow him to fully and mindfully enter into atheism.
However as he grew and learning he began to discover difficulties in the beliefs which grounded his atheism. As a college students he began to lose his chronological snobbery, his belief in realism and he realized of the depth Christian authors. First, to go was his chronological snobbery-the belief that the latest and greatest scholarly work was correct and ancient works such as the Bible were outdated. It seems that here in the west many of us have this same view. The lastest and the greatest is the best of all. Just this week people were standing in lines for up to thirty six hours to obtain the latest Playstation 3 video game system. In the quest of the latest and greatest some were trampled, others shot and one person was even stabbled over in Manchester, Connecticut! We worship youth and revile old age by making jokes about older folks in our birthday cards. In the scholarly world, many scholars from the two most recent century have proposed that the Gospels and Epistles were not written by those who claimed to write them, such as Mathew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul, and therefore are not credible. Yet over 1,800 years of careful study has shown the very opposite. All of a sudden it is as if we are smarter than all of those who have come before us. When Lewis was forced to think about past wisdom he had to ask himself, had that information been refuted and by whom and how conclusively or did it simply die away in the scholarly world as often fashions do? Second, Lewis lost his trust in realism-the belief that only that which can be touched and which can show forth evidence is to be believed. In our culture is seems that imperical science carries this great prestige above and beyond theology and philosophy and all of the other sciences. It seems that people automatically assume that that which we can touch and physically prove must be the truth and all else is false--completely forgetting that even imperical evidence has to be interpreted. Lewis realized that there were all kinds of things which he held to that had no physical evidence: he trusted his own thoughts, he trusted his moral judgements as valid, and his aesthetic experience as valuable. Third, Lewis discovered that some of the smartest people he knewindividual believed in God. At Oxford clearly one of the most intelligent and best informed men in his class was a Christian-a thoroughgoing supernaturalist. He would go on to discover that all the books were turning against him--his favorite authors which had had a great effect upon him: George MacDonald, Johnson, Spenser and Milton, Plato, Aeschylus. And those others which held to his theories of atheism, Shaw and Wells, Mill and Gibbon and Voltaire all seemed thin and lacking in depth. As his intellectual base for atheism began to crumble so also did his journey begin to the belief which would change his life forever.
He would go on to write these words: "In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I did not then see what is now the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape? The words compelle intrare, compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men that we shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation"3. This was the begining of his move to truth. And so after 31 years during a motorcycle ride to the zoo with his brother he would come to believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and from there become the most well known Christian author of the 20th century. Amen.
1. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955), 95.
2. Ibid, 113.
3. Ibid, 215.
According to the church calendar, today as you know, is the feast day of C.S. Lewis. When I first discovered the Anglican Church and learned of feast days I thought, "What a great church! We get to eat and have all of these grand feasts throughout the year!" However, I quickly learned that feast days simply refer to the days of the year that we remember those saints who have come before us and today we do so for Lewis. Clives Staples Lewis or "Jack" to his friends was ruddy apologist with baggy tweeds, a booming voice, bald head, and horne-rimmed spectacles. Many view him as the most well read Christian author of the 20th century. However his journey to Christianity took the first thirty-one years of his life. It is this story that I would like to share with you today as he recorded in his autobiography, Surprised By Joy.As a child Lewis was rather withdrawn from what he viewed as a repressive life-a worldview that would quickly lead to atheism. He was not a popular boy. "I was big for my age," he wrote, "a great lout of a boy, and that sets one’s seniors against one. I was also useless at games. Worst of all, there was my face. I am the kind of person who gets told, ‘And take that look off your face too’"1 even though I was not trying to reveal any certain emotion. He did not really have any friends apart from his brother and he could often be found thumbing through the various stacks of books which his father and mother left scattered throughout the house and creating a written world he called animal land. After the death of his mother his father never really recovered. He was gone most of the time, thus leaving Lewis and his brother home alone and when his father was at home, he was quite absent minded, very emotional and had a horrible temper. Lewis and his brother were always looking forward to the next day when he would again leave for work. Lewis hated school and vividly remembered his first day when his mother dressed him in an outfit of stiff irritable clothes and sent him off. The teachers were cruel and beat him. Through these experiences he learned to hate the world in which he lived and God for creating such a place. He wrote, "I was at this time living, like so many Atheists or Antitheists, in a whirl of contradictions. I maintained that God did not exist. I was also very angry with God for not existing. I was equally angry with Him for creating a world"2. He would go on to study under a man who he called the Great Knock, who would open up his intellectual world and allow him to fully and mindfully enter into atheism.
However as he grew and learning he began to discover difficulties in the beliefs which grounded his atheism. As a college students he began to lose his chronological snobbery, his belief in realism and he realized of the depth Christian authors. First, to go was his chronological snobbery-the belief that the latest and greatest scholarly work was correct and ancient works such as the Bible were outdated. It seems that here in the west many of us have this same view. The lastest and the greatest is the best of all. Just this week people were standing in lines for up to thirty six hours to obtain the latest Playstation 3 video game system. In the quest of the latest and greatest some were trampled, others shot and one person was even stabbled over in Manchester, Connecticut! We worship youth and revile old age by making jokes about older folks in our birthday cards. In the scholarly world, many scholars from the two most recent century have proposed that the Gospels and Epistles were not written by those who claimed to write them, such as Mathew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul, and therefore are not credible. Yet over 1,800 years of careful study has shown the very opposite. All of a sudden it is as if we are smarter than all of those who have come before us. When Lewis was forced to think about past wisdom he had to ask himself, had that information been refuted and by whom and how conclusively or did it simply die away in the scholarly world as often fashions do? Second, Lewis lost his trust in realism-the belief that only that which can be touched and which can show forth evidence is to be believed. In our culture is seems that imperical science carries this great prestige above and beyond theology and philosophy and all of the other sciences. It seems that people automatically assume that that which we can touch and physically prove must be the truth and all else is false--completely forgetting that even imperical evidence has to be interpreted. Lewis realized that there were all kinds of things which he held to that had no physical evidence: he trusted his own thoughts, he trusted his moral judgements as valid, and his aesthetic experience as valuable. Third, Lewis discovered that some of the smartest people he knewindividual believed in God. At Oxford clearly one of the most intelligent and best informed men in his class was a Christian-a thoroughgoing supernaturalist. He would go on to discover that all the books were turning against him--his favorite authors which had had a great effect upon him: George MacDonald, Johnson, Spenser and Milton, Plato, Aeschylus. And those others which held to his theories of atheism, Shaw and Wells, Mill and Gibbon and Voltaire all seemed thin and lacking in depth. As his intellectual base for atheism began to crumble so also did his journey begin to the belief which would change his life forever.
He would go on to write these words: "In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I did not then see what is now the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape? The words compelle intrare, compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men that we shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation"3. This was the begining of his move to truth. And so after 31 years during a motorcycle ride to the zoo with his brother he would come to believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and from there become the most well known Christian author of the 20th century. Amen.
1. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955), 95.
2. Ibid, 113.
3. Ibid, 215.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Dinner at the Lemons
We had an excellent meal of Thai food and even better company at the home of Cameron and Jenelle Lemons along with their two young boys.Monday, November 13, 2006
This picture just does not capture the essence
The rainy day should have stifled my spirit and disengaged my enthusiasm. However the rain had not yet started and a thick fog was lifting all around creating a visibility of but a few hundred feet. I wanted to simply give up my studies and walk amongst the trees and absorb the beauty forever like that of a childhood memory immediately recalled upon a wafting smell. I felt as though there were an entirely new world seeping through the mist that I had yet to discover. Adventure, mystery, excitement, splendor.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
A Few Pictures from Youth Group
Every Sunday evening I have the pleasure of working with the youth ministry at Christ Church. The evening is always full of energy and crazy games as well as music and
teaching.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Chasing after the Books
I woke up at 5:30 today to join Joe, a fellow seminarian and Jeff, an engineering student to alight, along with hundreds of others upon the semi-annual CBD (Christian Book Distributors) sale. The company is predominately an online retailer, but every so often they have a sale to pass on their damaged books and such to the locals, so us poor seminarians love the opportunity. We stood in line outside the building and then entered into this massive warehouse with thousands of books laid out across table after table after table. Here we are below with our boxes full of “finds.”
Friday, November 10, 2006
Beauty in the Garden
Another day in the garden. Hour after hour. Though the work is tiring, the sights are often full of delights for the eyes.
I could not help but post once more the beautiful view that engulfs me each day I arrive at work.
Cameron Lemons, a fellow seminarian, husband and the father of two young boys. I highly respect him as a thoughtful and passionate friend and enjoy working with him in the garden. Though he will be graduating soon and leaving with his family to return to California, it is my hope that this short time God has given us as friends will not be the last and that perhaps we will once again walk the same path.
Fall colors, this late into the season? Do not the colors simply mesmerize you?
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Working in the Garden
A couple of days a week I motor up this winding drive and work alongside the birds, the grasses, trees and flowers at Spike and Libby Thorne's--a well to do couple who have been a rich blessing in my life by allowing me a secure place of employment working in their garden and on their property.
Here I am (with Alex in the background) hard at work attempting to pick up the seemingly endless leaves that I spent nine hours picking up today. Where do I work? I work for Spike and Libby Thorne, an older couple who value a well taken care of lawn and garden.
This is my friend Alex, hauling our "leaf vacuum." He and I often work together and I thoroughly enjoy his company. He is a great conversationalist and extremely intelligent. The man amazes me: as a husband and father of three young boys, one of whom is autistic, he still finds time to take classes at the seminary and work an incredibly amount of hours to support his family.
Fortunately, the place comes equipped with a beautiful view of which the sun often compliments late into the evening--one of the pleasures of life.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Credibility of the Gospels
The Meaning of Jesus, a chapter by chapter dialog between two well respected scholars. Borg understands a majority of the gospels to be taken metaphorically, unlike Wright who holds to the orthodox conservative position of understanding the gospels as historical narratives. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book, much more than the one above. If you would like to read from some of the best and yet easily followed debates concerning the Jesus Christ, the Son of God and whether or not what is written about in the gospels can be trusted as truth, this is your book.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Friend's for Dinner
We had a lot of fun with Brian and Jackie Barry, who joined us for dinner at our place. Brian is finishing his first year at the seminary and would like to become an Anglican priest, though he is currently working in a CMA (Christian Missionary Alliance) Church as the youth pastor. His wife works at Starbucks and as an assistant kindergarten teacher.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
October - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian
Greetings from quickly cooling
This month has been an array of ancient language exams, sermons and papers, but somehow I am still alive. I preached at Christ Church a couple of times, the first of which was on proper 22, Jesus teaching on divorce (Mark 10:2-9). I thought the gospel reading looked challenging and was a subject toward which I feel strongly and an issue which touches the lives of so many, both those who are directly involved as well as family members and friends. However, as I further prepared the sermon I began to feel somewhat fearful with the thought of preaching the conviction of biblical truth yet communicating love to those in the pews who have been or are currently in the midst of divorce. When the day arrived, I sat in the pew as the service drew closer to the sermon and felt terrified—not nervous but terrified. Like the time when I was on a mission trip to the country of Panama and we went swimming with naked Indian kids who were jumping off of thirty, forty and fifty foot cliffs into the water. I remember thinking to myself, if these seven and eight year old kids can do this surely I who am triple their age can take this challenge. I remember feeling a rush of terror as I looked over the cliff and backed away and then suddenly, in a surge wild foolishness ran over the edge and was sucked down through the air and swallowed by the water below. So it was with this preaching engagement. Though I had preached multiple times in the past, never before had I preached on a subject that could seemingly be this controversial or even hurtful. After all, who am I, this young kid who has been married not even two years, to speak on such a great and ancient truth as the sacrament of marriage? However I made it through (go hear to read the sermon: http://philipmayer.blogspot.com/2006/10/divorce.html) and Father Jürgen actually said I did well. Two weeks later I preached again, but this time with no notes whatsoever. In the days before I had written out my sermon and practiced multiple times until I felt I could complete the talk without notes. I felt much better when I stood to preach this time and by the second service I was even able to think on my feet and was beginning to feel a hint of confidence in my speaking ability. After the service I felt that I had conquered. The road to note-less speaking was no longer wobbling like a rope bridge on a child’s playground, but has begun to steady as I progress to the other side.
Youth ministry has been moving steadily forward. Our fall retreat took place without any problems and this past Sunday we went to St. Peters Episcopal Church in
One of the biggest things that I miss at the seminary is being in a tight-knit group of men who challenge one another and are there for one another during difficult times. I spoke with an acquaintance about this longing and he agreed and then went on to tell of a group that he was involved with at his undergraduate college. Each week they would meet for lunch and then go off and climb up into this old abandoned tunnel. There they would sit in silence until everyone arrived at which point they would pray for one another and through this bonding they became very close. I thought it sounded like an excellent idea and said that we should go for it. We prayed together for God’s leading and then agreed to meet every Tuesday for lunch and prayer. I began talking to some of my other friends on campus and on Tuesday six of us got together for lunch and then we went outside and using the form for Noonday Prayer, prayed for one another. It was great! I am very excited about continuing this group.
Life at the “Mill Street House” is also going well. For those of you who did not know, a few months ago Melissa and I moved into a neo monastic community a few months ago. Mother Beth, one of our former priests at
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