Where is our God?

The prophet Joel provides instructions for the clergy for a day like today.  He says, “Between the vestibule and the altar let the priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep.  Let them say, ‘Spare your people, O Lord, and do not make your heritage a mockery, a byword among the nations.  Why should it be said among the peoples, ‘Where is their God?’”

When you walk out of here today with your smudge of ash on your forehead, it may be that no one says it aloud, but people will look at you and at me, and they will wonder “Where is their God?”  Long before the 21st century decline of religion in America, the prophet knew that many people would look askance at faith.   Many people have given up putting faith in a God who wants us to seek forgiveness for the things we have done wrong, and who wants us to store up for ourselves treasures in heaven.

Maybe you came to church wondering yourself, “Where is my God?”  It seems like it can be harder and harder to find God in the world today.  Maybe that’s because God has made himself harder to find; but maybe it’s because our vision is more clouded than it’s ever been, and we have so little practice at finding God when we want him or need him.  The prophet’s instructions make it clear that on a day like today we should make it easier to find God, not harder.  And it’s always easier to find God when you are on the lookout for God’s love.

If God has called you to this place to receive ashes, and to share in the holy communion of his Body and Blood, it’s because God wants you to know that he loves you and will give anything for you.  One of the surest ways God shows his love for his people is by offering forgiveness.  And anyone who’s ever been in love knows that eventually you are going to have to ask for forgiveness.  Eventually you are going to do something or say something that you shouldn’t have, or that you didn’t really mean, or that felt good at the time but is eating away at you now.  Sometimes we even have to ask for forgiveness for things that we did or said thinking they were loving, only to discover that we were wrong.

Why should it be said among the peoples, “Where is our God?”

It’s not the ashes you get today that provide the answer to that question; it’s the forgiveness.

Where is our God?  He is right here, listening to you, loving you, and forgiving you.  The ashes are not much more than a sign that you know that you need to be listened to, you need to be loved, you need to be forgiven.

The implication of the prophet’s instructions are that if God left us to rot in our selfish sinfulness, to become the people we would become if we never sought out forgiveness and had forgiveness bestowed on us, then we would be a sorry lot of people, marked only by ashes, and much to be pitied by others, who might well wonder, “Where is their God.”

But the ashes we’re being given today are, ironically, a sign that were are a people marked not only by ashes, but by the love of God who forgives us. The ashes are a sign that you have remembered to return to the Lord with all your heart.  The ashes are a sign that I have done my small job and asked the Lord to be generous in his pardoning of all our sins.  And the ashes are a sign that you knew where to look when you wondered, “Where is our God?”  You came to him, and you let God love you, and forgive you.

Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
Ash Wednesday 2023
Saint Mark’s, Locust Street, Philadelphia

The Missing Angels of the Transfiguration

There’s something missing from the scriptural accounts of the Transfiguration that bothers me.  The account of the Transfiguration of Our Lord is one of the few biblical texts that we’re likely to hear more than once each year in church.  It’s always assigned to be read on this last Sunday after the Epiphany, as well as on the Feast of the Transfiguration itself, on August 6 of each year.  So, if you go to church regularly, you are going to hear about Jesus going up the mountain with Peter, James, and John.  The episode is accounted for in three of the four Gospels.

The more I encounter texts like these, that we read over and over in church, the more I think I should assume that I have been missing something, that I may have been reading the text wrong, and that there is probably something there that I have never noticed before.  Indeed, reading the text of all three accounts of the Transfiguration in the synoptic Gospels, I find that something does appear to be missing, and I’ll tell you what it is: angels.

Yes, I believe that there should have been angels on Mount Tabor, which is the tall hill outside of Jerusalem that’s normally considered to be the location of the Transfiguration.  I say this because the ministry of angels was called for in a very specific way, but that ministry is noticeably missing from all three accounts.  Remember that one of the functions that angels regularly perform is to appear when God is about to do something noticeable and unsettling, and to warn people not to be afraid.  “Fear not” is a signature greeting of angels.  We hear it from them like it’s their job to tell people this.  And I believe that it is their job.

But there were no angels on Mount Tabor that day that we know of.  There was no one to tell Peter, and James, and John not to be afraid.  And the result is - in every one of the synoptic Gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke - the result is that the three disciples who go up the mountain with Jesus (his inner circle, really, with whom he has established the greatest trust)… the result is that they are afraid.  According to St. Matthew, these three disciples “fell to the ground and were overcome by fear.”  St. Mark and St. Luke both report that the disciples were “terrified.”  That’s why there should have been at least one angel there - because one of the things that angels do is to tell people not to be afraid when God is doing something wonderful.

When the angel Gabriel went to tell Mary that she would bear a son, the angel told her not to be afraid.  When an angel of the Lord visited Zechariah to foretell the birth of John the Baptist, he said, “Fear not.”  An angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds outside of Bethlehem on the night that Jesus was born to tell the shepherds not to be afraid.  There were angels at the empty tomb on Easter morning, and at least one of them told the women who went there not to be afraid.   Angels are deployed in the scriptures to bring word to God’s people that they need not be afraid of what God is about to do.

St. Matthew reports that in the absence of angels, Jesus himself told the disciples not to be afraid when he came walking to them on the sea.  And that instance is a give-away that Jesus knew how likely it was that his disciples were to be frightened, still, when they experienced him in his glory and his power.  Jesus knew that his disciples were still susceptible to fear.  And he took note that there were no angels around to assuage the fear of his followers.

But there on Mount Tabor, the display of Christ’s glory was like nothing the disciples, or the world, had ever seen before.  The true light that lightens the world - God of God, light of light, very God of very God - was on display.  Not only had Jesus begun to shine with a dazzling light; the figures of Moses and Elijah appeared and began to speak with him; an unusual bright cloud enveloped them all; and a voice, which can only be the voice of God the Father himself, spoke from the cloud, saying “This is my Son, the Beloved….”  It was all too much for Peter, and James, and John who fell to the ground overcome by fear.

Now, fear, in my lexicon, is the opposite of faith.  So this fearful response strikes me as surprising.  Clearly this vision on the mountaintop is an unobstructed manifestation of God.  And who of us hasn’t wished to see God unobstructed?  I would expect a display like that to dispel doubts, and to fill me with faith and confidence about who Jesus is, and whether God is involved in his ministry in the world.

I have the suspicion that there was a miscalculation somewhere by someone who assumed that Peter, James, and John were ready for this revelation, that they could take it.  But what we discover is that the three of them were not ready to see what they saw or to hear what they heard.  They were not ready to be confronted by so much of the power of God.  They were not ready to encounter so much light - not even in their darkened world.  They were not ready to be in such close proximity to the very Source of truth of the Law and the prophets.  They were not ready to hear the voice of the Father.  They simply were not ready not to be afraid.  And fear does not support or uphold faith.

As soon as the three of them fell to the ground, Jesus noticed what had happened.  For all I know, it occurred to Jesus at that moment, “Darn, we should have had some angels handy.”  Whatever the case may be, only St. Matthew provides us with the detail that came next.  He tells us that Jesus saw that it was too much for Peter, James, and John to take, that Jesus took note of the effect of this manifestation of the glory of God on his friends, and how it filled them with fear.  So, immediately, Jesus went to them and he “touched them saying, ‘Get up, and do not be afraid.’”

Get up, and do not be afraid.

It can be hard to locate the good news in the accounts of the Transfiguration.  I mean, sure, it’s an impressive production.  But when you consider the effect on the three closest disciples - which is to say that it made them terrified - you have to wonder where the good news really is to be found.  I just don’t think it’s obvious.

But there is good news to be found here if you know where to look.  And I think it’s easier to find the good news if you begin with the assumption that somebody somewhere made a miscalculation about the readiness of Peter, James, and John to be shown what they were shown.  If you start to look at the Transfiguration that way, what you see is that Jesus is ready to reveal more to the disciples than they are ready to be shown.

St. Matthew and the other evangelists are clear that Jesus “took” the three men up the mountain with him.  Jesus intended for them to be there.  They did not follow him up surreptitiously and sneak behind a tree to watch what happened.  They were invited.  Jesus meant for them to see it; the Father meant for them to hear it.  And what that shows us is that Jesus was ready to reveal more than they were ready to see and to hear.

If you think about it, this possibility - that Jesus is ready to reveal more than his followers are ready to be shown - is perhaps the opposite of how we expect God to deal with us.  We expect God to keep God’s self hidden.  We expect the truth of Jesus to be somehow obscured or inaccessible.  We expect that we are hungry to know more about God than God is willing to reveal of himself.  We expect that if you want to see the light that enlightens the world, you can’t just walk up a tall hill outside of Jerusalem and find that that light is breaking into the world right there and then, and that the voice of God might speak to you there.  But that is exactly what happened to Peter, and James, and John.  Jesus was ready to let them bask in his light and see him for who he truly is.  And Jesus is ready to show us that light even before we are ready for it, too.

Each of the three evangelists who provide accounts of the Transfiguration tells us that on the way down the mountain, Jesus orders his disciples not to speak of it to others.  Normally we associate this kind of enforced silence about what Jesus has shown to his disciples as having something to do with keeping his so-called Messianic secret, a reluctance to let too many people know the truth about how bright the light is that shines forth from the person of Jesus, about how close he is to the Father’s heart.  And this very suggestion, at the end of all three accounts of the Transfiguration, tends to support the view that God is reluctant to let too many people see the truth, that the light must stay hidden until we have shown ourselves to be worthy or ready, or something.

But I wonder if the reason that Jesus told the disciples to say nothing is precisely because he saw how they reacted to the revelation of his glory - with fear: they were terrified!  And Jesus knows that fear does not support and uphold faith.  Maybe Jesus perceived that someone somewhere had miscalculated when the decision was made (wherever such decisions are made) not to send angels to Mount Tabor to warn the three disciples not to be afraid.  And maybe Jesus did not want others to react the same way with fear.  Whatever the case may be, the lesson, I think we can learn from these accounts of the Transfiguration is that Jesus is very likely ready to show us more of himself that we are ready to behold.

We have been conditioned by fear, most especially the fear of scarcity - that there is not, cannot be, and will not be enough to go around: not enough light; not enough love; not enough grace; not enough of God.  This scarcity is not true, and could not be further from the truth.  But the fear is what comes from an enlightened, market-driven society that is wary of too much light, too much love, too much grace.

I suppose that, looking down from his throne at God’s right hand, Jesus can see us now, still un-prepared, un-ready to see and hear as much of him as he is ready to show to us.  And for reasons that I cannot explain, there still are not any angels around to warn us not to be afraid.  And I suppose that Jesus can see what has happened: that we have already fallen to the ground, that we are already so overcome by fear that all we can do is buy things to try to make ourselves feel better.

And this is without even standing in the light; without even hearing the voice from the cloud, having practically forgotten all about the Law and the prophets.  Yes, Jesus can see that we are overcome by fear.

So he comes to us.  And he touches us, and says to us, “Get up, and do not be afraid!”

Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
19 February 2023
Saint Mark’s, Locust Street, Philadelphia

The Transfiguration by William Blake

Do ye know who ye are?

Everyone knows that salt and light are good.  They are good in the biblical context and good in our contemporary context, even though I should probably add disclaimers for those with high blood pressure, sleep disorders, or fair skin.

When Jesus said that “ye are the salt of the earth” and “ye are the light of the world” these were words of encouragement to the people who’d gathered to hear him deliver what we now call the Sermon on the Mount.  Among the oft-repeated phrases of these well-known teachings of Jesus, “salt of the earth” and “light of the world” rank pretty high.   And approaching this section of the Sermon for the purposes of a sermon, one might begin with the assumption that real insights will come from a deeper examination of salt and light as metaphors.

But in a way, both of these metaphors are problematic as Jesus uses them.  To begin with, salt doesn’t really lose its saltiness, despite the various rationalizations of this text that you can find online.  As for light, I must admit I find St. John’s Gospel a little more compelling than St. Matthew’s; for in John we hear Jesus tell us that he is the light of the world, rather than this assertion that, as the old versions say, “ye are the light of the world.”  No offense, but given the choice between he and ye as the light of the world, I think I am going to choose Jesus every time.  Still, here in the Sermon on the Mount, we hear Jesus say these things, and we can’t just dismiss them.  So, what’s a preacher to do?

“Ye are the salt of the earth…. Ye are the light or the world.”

If the challenge isn’t to try to understand salt better, and the challenge isn’t to try to understand light better, I would say that the challenge isn’t even to try to understand Jesus better, as the rabbi on the Mount.  I am wondering if the real challenge is to try to understand “ye” better!  By this, I do not mean that I want us to I read the text closely enough to understand precisely who Jesus’ audience was - anyone can do that.  St. Matthew tells us that “great crowds followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judaea, and from beyond the Jordan.”  And he assures us that “his disciples came to him” as he began to preach.  It is reasonable to suppose that the audience is nearly all Jewish, since the sermon addresses Jewish Scripture, Jewish law, and Jewish custom.  We heard in the passage we read today that Jesus “did not come to abolish the law or the prophets.”  He came “to fulfill.”  And the people who were most likely to be interested in the fulfillment of the law and the prophets were Jews.  We know who the audience was.

So, what do I mean by asserting that the challenge here may be to understand “ye” better?

At least in these few verses, when Jesus specifically says, “ye are the salt of the earth… ye are the light of the world,” I think the question might be this: Who are ye?

Let me put it another way: Do ye know who ye are?

Who are ye?  The question is posed to you, right now.  Are ye happy with yer life?  Are ye struggling to get from day to day?  Are ye confident in yer faith?  Are ye confused and frustrated by the world ye live in?  Are ye ready to help yer neighbor?  Are ye looking for God in the world?  Are ye ready to glorify his Name?  Are ye living yer life for yerself, or are ye living yer life for others?  Are ye satisfied with yer relationships?  Are ye doing what ye want to be doing?  Are ye peaceful and content?  Are ye anxious and on edge?  Are ye salty and light?  Or are ye bland and dim?  Who are ye?  Do ye even know?  Do ye know who ye are?

And what these few lines of the Sermon on the Mount tell us is this: that ye might not know who ye are - not really, not truly.  Ye might not know what ye were made to be or who ye were made to be.  No, ye might not know who ye really are, but Jesus does!  And Jesus wants ye to know who ye are!  He wants ye to know that ye are salt, ye are light!  Not all by yer lonesome, yer not!  It’s not so much that ye, yerself, alone in yer pew are so salty, so light.

Commentators point out that since in English, we lack a distinct pronoun for the second person plural, it’s easy to miss this emphasis: that Jesus is talking to a congregation.  But in the Greek text, the “ye” is plural.  And gathered together in Christ’s Name, gathered together in Christ’s company, gathered together by Christ’s teaching, gathered together as Christ’s Body ye taste like salt and ye look like light.  Ye add flavor and ye preserve goodness in the world around ye - or at least ye could because God made ye to do so.  And ye pierce the darkness of this world (or ye could if ye knew who God had made ye to be).  And the more of ye there are, the saltier and the brighter ye be!

The Jews gathered there on the mountain had been living in a Promised Land, whose promise was as real as ever, but whose land had been occupied by an imperial force intent on its own well being above all.  Sure, the Temple was still standing, but did they know, did they remember what it meant to be God’s people?  God had called them to be a certain and particular people.  But they had forgotten what that meant before, and they could forget again.  Did they know who they were?

And what was the point of teaching them about the law and the prophets, about anger and reconciliation, about faithfulness and failure, about loving their enemies, about giving, and about praying, and seeing, and judging, about storing up treasures in heaven, and about the impossibility of loving both God and wealth, and about asking, and seeking, and knocking, about the Golden Rule, about going through the narrow gate, about what real fruitfulness is, about being hearers and doers of the Word of God… what was the point, if they didn’t even know who they were?  Because if ye don’t know who ye are, ye don’t know that Jesus is talking to ye!  And ye don’t know how to form the community that Jesus is calling ye to be.

But if ye know that ye are salt!  If ye know that ye are light!  Then ye start by knowing what Jesus knows about ye, about who ye are when ye come together with yer brothers and yer sisters, and with everyone who’s neither/nor.  And ye are reminded that ye are salty, ye are bright!

Ye are the salt of the earth… ye are the light of the world!

Maybe Jesus started the Sermon on the Mount with the Beatitudes because he knew there were many people there who were blessed of God, but who didn’t know it: people who were poor in spirit, mournful, meek, hungry and thirsty for righteousness, in need of mercy, pure in heart, desperate for peace, persecuted, and reviled.  “Blessed are ye all!” He said to them.

But many there were who did not count themselves in any of those categories of blessing.  What about them?  And many there were who did not know how much it matters to be gathered together by and with Jesus.  “Well,” Jesus told them, “gathered here, I’ll tell you who ye are, Ye are the salt of the earth!  Ye are the light of the world!”

And what about ye?!?  (Though I suppose in Philadelphia, I could ask, What about youse?). What about ye, gathered here in this place today?  Do ye know who ye are?  And do ye know that when ye gather here in God’s Name ye become more of who God made ye to be?

Maybe ye are poor in spirit, mournful, meek, hungry and thirsty for righteousness, in need of mercy, pure in heart, desperate for peace, persecuted, or reviled… but maybe yer not.  Maybe ye don’t hear yerself described among the blessed of the Lord.  And maybe ye think that if ye don’t hear yerself described among the blessed of the Lord, ye are not among them!

What’s more, maybe ye think that ye are on yer own, and that who ye are is something ye can only know when ye consider yerself in isolation.  Maybe when ye look at yerself in the mirror all by yerself in the morning, ye think there is nothing blessed about ye, and that ye can’t possibly be counted among the blessed of the Lord.

But ye can be and ye are!  For ye are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.  And Jesus will not have ye lose yer saltiness: not if he can stop it, he won’t!  And Jesus will not see yer light grow dim: not if if he can uncover it, he won’t!

And ye don’t need to spend more time contemplating the meaning and essence of salt; ye don’t need to spend more time contemplating the meaning and essence of light.  What ye need to spend more time contemplating is the meaning and essence of yerselves, gathered here, and how it is that ye are more salty and more bright when ye gather together in God’s Name, when ye join together with more salt and more light, and ye begin to see who and what God made ye to be.

What’s a grain of salt on its own?  What’s a photon of light bouncing around all by itself?  But come together… and ye begin to function more like the salt of the earth, more like the light of the world!  Remember that Jesus had not sat down with each disciple to have a one-on-one.  Jesus had gathered a crowd!  And Jesus was speaking to a people!  This fact helps us realize why online worship became so important during the pandemic.  Because when we literally couldn’t gather together in church to be with him and with each other, we could at least gather on an electronic mountainside and know that we are not alone in our encounter with Jesus.

Alone in our enforced isolation, it’s so easy to forget who we are, who God made us to be, and that over and over again, Jesus calls us to come together.  And when he does call us together, it’s not so he can berate us, it’s not so he can tell us what horrible sinners we are, and how hopeless we should be.  When Jesus calls us together it’s to tell us of the blessedness that we are likely to forget about ourselves because we have gotten caught up in the work and worry of the empire, and forgotten who we are when we come together in his presence.

Do ye know who ye are?  Do ye know that ye are blessed in the eyes and in the heart of God?  Do ye know how much more of yerself ye become when ye gather here in Christ's Name?  Do ye know how salty and how bright ye are?

Ye are the salt of the earth... and ye are the light of the world.  Yes, ye are!  Jesus said so himself.

You know me, between he and ye, I'd choose Jesus every time... but Jesus chose ye!

Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
5 February 2023
Saint Mark’s, Locust Street, Philadelphia