Sermon for the 2nd Sunday after the Epiphany

Sermon Archive

Matt Rowe January 16, 2017

Sermon for the 2nd Sunday after the Epiphany
15 January 2017                 Emmanuel, San Angelo

Audio Recording


The Collect

Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ is the light of the world: Grant that your people, illumined by your Word and Sacraments, may shine with the radiance of Christ's glory, that he may be known, worshipped, and obeyed to the ends of the earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, now and for ever. Amen.


The Lesson: Isaiah 49:1-7
The Epistle: 1 Corinthians 1:1-9
The Gospel: John 1:29-42

 

“Jesus calls us, o’er the tumult
of our life’s wild, restless sea.”


Those words from one of the more than 400 hymns by Cecil Frances Alexander, rang through the church at the beginning of worship this morning. She was the classic “preacher’s wife,” writing hymns and leading ministries for girls and young ladies in the parishes that her husband served as he moved up the ranks to the office of bishop and eventually to a lofty post as primate of the Church of Ireland.

One wonders, on this day that her husband celebrates the Holy Eucharist for the first time, how Tiffany Rabone will distinguish herself as a “preacher’s wife.” Tiffany, if the words to hymns of praise to God are beginning to well up inside of you, I am sure that our choirmaster and organist would help you to set them to music, and that the choir and congregation of this parish will give voice joyfully to your works.


This is a momentous weekend for the Rabone family, as Christian takes up and gives expression to a form of ministry that first tugged at his heart while a youth in Harrison, Arkansas. It is significant for Tiffany and Olivia, as well. They have supported Christian in his discernment, and they have allowed their settled family life to become unsettled,
even to the point of living 200+ miles apart during this year of transition from Austin to San Angelo. They are adjusting to life as a clergy family, with its blessings and bruises, and I hope that the blessings will far outnumber the bruises as the years roll by.


This is also a memorable weekend for the parish of Emmanuel. You have given your assent,
expressed your support, and been witness to the prayer and laying on of hands by the bishop which were the means for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon Christian, making him a priest, and now you are here to share in this first full day of his ministry as a priest.


All of this, important as it is, has meant a lot of church! I once heard Robert Runcie,
the 101st Archbishop of Canterbury, share an anecdote about what his wife, Lady Rosalind, said to a reporter who asked her if she were pleased at her husband’s elevation to be the Archbishop. Her response to the reporter, “Too much religion makes me go off pop!”

Mindful that this has been a weekend of much religion, and not wanting anyone to “go off pop,” I will try to share a message in as “brief and to the point” fashion as possible.


Many who are here this morning were also here yesterday morning, and why is that? To support Christian? In part, yes. Because it’s not every day you get to witness the ordination of a priest? Maybe. Because the bishop was here, and making a good showing for the bishop is something we Episcopalians like to do? Perhaps. Those reasons aside, even if they do ring true, the deeper reason for your being here yesterday and for your return today is because of who you are, which is part of that great communion and fellowship of those whom St. Paul describes as “sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints. . .” Christian is where he is today because he responded to God’s call. The same is true for all of us.
We are here because God called us, called us to embrace the grace of Christ, the grace that sanctifies, the grace that makes us holy in God’s sight. We are called also to be saints, God’s holy ones formed into this holy community as brothers and sisters, not only with one another, but with “all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

We are called by God into community and communion with one another in order to be,
as the prophet Isaiah envisioned, a light to the nations, shining a light into the world
that does not have its source in us, but is rather beams of grace that reflect from us.


One of our adult Sunday school classes is reading and discussing a classic book by C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters. The letters are written by a mid-level demon named Screwtape to his young protege, Wormwood, who is assigned to prevent his human “patient,” from falling into the clutches of our “enemy above,” and remain in the camp of our “father below.” Wormwood is not having much success, and his patient becomes a Christian, so Screwtape writes to Wormwood about how to handle this development.

When the patient goes to church, Wormwood is to endeavor to make him aware of the “half-finished, sham Gothic” building, which will prepare him to be aware of the sham nature of the people he meets inside, like “the local grocer with an oily expression on his face bustling up to offer him one shiny little book containing a liturgy neither of them understands,” and the rest of the selection of neighbors “he has hitherto avoided.”

Wormwood is then to try to get his patient to contrast the noble concept of “the Body of Christ” with the actual faces in the pews around him, which will, if all works out
as our father below would want, alert the patient to the sham nature of the whole enterprise and cause him to abandon it before further damage is done.


So, we look around this Gothic-style building, beyond the stone and plaster, glass and wood, to the moments that have transpired here: the marriage vows exchanged, the baptismal candidates born anew, the faithful departed commended to God’s mercy, the bread broken and wine poured, the heartfelt prayers lifted heavenward - and we know this is no sham, but a place hallowed by holy intention and sacred action.  

 

Now we look at the faces in the pews around us, and we say, “Thanks be to God” for each of them, because there is light shining from each one, the light of Christ, “the lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” That light of Christ draws us together as those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, so that what we do in this holy hour of Word and Sacrament, being led by this new priest, will illumine us to shine, not with our own light, but with the beams of grace that radiate from Christ’s glory, that he may be known, worshiped, and obeyed to the ends of the earth.

 

Soli Deo Gloria

Matthew Rowe+