July 18, 2010
Colossian 1.15-28, John 10.38-42
+ I used to be one of those people who rolled my eyes at the pretentiousness of any preacher who dared to begin his or her sermon with these words:
“Now in the original Greek…’
Oh please! I used to groan. The basic person in the pew could care less about what the original Greek said. And please, dear Lord, don’t let this personal actually use the Greek word!
So, you can imagine the chagrin I felt at myself when I actually considered beginning my sermon this morning with,
“The Greek word Paul used here in his letter to the Colossians…”
But I am going to suck it up and go with it, because it’s actually a Greek word we might enjoy playing with this morning. So, here goes…
In the original Greek Paul used in his letter, we find the word “eikon” used to describe the “image” of Christ Jesus. I really enjoy using that word Eikon. I so very much “get it.” It means something to me.
An icon, as most of know, is a sacred and holy image. In the Eastern Orthodox church, icons are pictures which are sacred because they portray something sacred. They are a “window,” in a sense, to the sacred, to the otherwise, “unseen.”
So, when we hear this word “image” or eikon, what we find is that Paul sees Jesus as the image or eikon of God. Jesus is the window into the unseen God.
And, to be honest, that’s exactly what I believe. To me, Jesus is very much that eikon of God. When I see Jesus, I see God. When I gaze upon the face of Jesus in icons, I feel as though I am truly gazing upon the Face of the Divine. And I have no doubt that is exactly who I am seeing.
I don’t know about you, but I do need things like icons in my own spiritual life. I need help more often than not. I need images. I need icons. I need them just the way I need incense and vestments and good music and the Eucharist. These things feed me spiritually. In them, I am actually sustained. My vision is sustained. My sense of smell is sustained. My sense of touch is sustained. And when it all comes together, I truly feel the Presence of God, here in our midst.
I can’t tell you how many times I have stood at this altar and during the singing of the Agnes Dei—the Lamb of God—I have actually looked down at that broken bread and into that Cup and have felt, amazingly, that Presence of Jesus. I have looked upon it and seen Jesus. And in seeing Jesus, I truly have gazed upon God. I have been made aware in that moment that this truly is Jesus on this altar. This truly is the Sacred and Holy Presence of God.
I can’t tell you how many times I have gazed deeply into an icon of Jesus and truly felt his Presence there with me, staring back at me with a familiarity that simply blows me away. This, I think, is what Paul is getting at in his letter. We truly do meet the invisible God in the Presence of Jesus.
For years, I used to complain—and it really was a complaint—about the fact that I was “searching for God.” I used to love to quote the writer Carson McCullers, who once said, “writing, for me, is a search for God.”
But I have had to come to the realization—and it was quite a huge realization—that I have actually found God. I am not searching and questing after God, aimlessly or blindly searching for God in the darkness anymore. I am not searching for God because I have truly found God in the person of Jesus.
In our Gospel reading for today, it seems almost as though Mary too has seen Jesus as the eikon of God. We find this very familiar story of Martha the busybody and Mary the content gazer upon Jesus. It’s seems most Christians have divided themselves into two camps regarding Martha and Mary, sort of like people now-a-days are divided into camps from the Full Moon/Twilight/Eclipse films—some people are “Team Edward” who believe the character Bella should go with the vampire Edward, while others are “Team Jacob,” believing she should go with the werewolf Jacob (I am so “Team Jacob,” by the way).
Similarly, we seem to find Christians who are either “Team Martha” or “Team Mary.” But some of us are a little bit of both. Yes, we are busybodies. Those of you who know me know I can be a busybody—or more accurately, I can be a unashamed work-a-holic—after all, I’m writing a sermon for a Sunday on which I am on vacation. But we can also be contemplatives, like Mary.
As an Oblate of Benedictine Order, in which the motto is “Ore et labora”—work and pray—I understand the balance between the two. I understand that there are times to be a busybody and there are times in which I simply must slow down and quietly contemplate Jesus. I often prefer to do this in front of the Blessed Sacrament, but sometimes I just do it wherever I am in Jesus’ Presence.
When we recognize that Jesus is truly the image of God, we find ourselves at times longingly gazing at Jesus or quietly sitting in his Presence. But sometimes that recognition of who Jesus is sometimes stirs us. It lights a fire within us and compels us to go out and do the work that needs to be done. But unlike Martha, we need to do that work without worry or distraction.
When we are in Jesus’ presence—when we recognize that in Jesus we have truly found what we are questing for, what we are searching for, what we are longing for—we find that worry and distraction have fallen away from us. We don’t want anything to come between us and this marvelous revelation of God we find before us. In that way, Mary truly has chosen the better part.
So, let us also choose the better part. Let us balance our lives in such a way that, yes, we work, but we do so without distraction, without worry, without letting work be our god, getting in the way of that time to serve Jesus and be with Jesus and those Jesus sends our way. Let us also, however, take time to sit quietly in that Presence and to gaze longingly at the Jesus who is more than just another human. Let us, rather, look into his face, let us look deeply into his eyes, and see there the fullness of God that was pleased to dwell there.
Colossian 1.15-28, John 10.38-42
+ I used to be one of those people who rolled my eyes at the pretentiousness of any preacher who dared to begin his or her sermon with these words:
“Now in the original Greek…’
Oh please! I used to groan. The basic person in the pew could care less about what the original Greek said. And please, dear Lord, don’t let this personal actually use the Greek word!
So, you can imagine the chagrin I felt at myself when I actually considered beginning my sermon this morning with,
“The Greek word Paul used here in his letter to the Colossians…”
But I am going to suck it up and go with it, because it’s actually a Greek word we might enjoy playing with this morning. So, here goes…
In the original Greek Paul used in his letter, we find the word “eikon” used to describe the “image” of Christ Jesus. I really enjoy using that word Eikon. I so very much “get it.” It means something to me.
An icon, as most of know, is a sacred and holy image. In the Eastern Orthodox church, icons are pictures which are sacred because they portray something sacred. They are a “window,” in a sense, to the sacred, to the otherwise, “unseen.”
So, when we hear this word “image” or eikon, what we find is that Paul sees Jesus as the image or eikon of God. Jesus is the window into the unseen God.
And, to be honest, that’s exactly what I believe. To me, Jesus is very much that eikon of God. When I see Jesus, I see God. When I gaze upon the face of Jesus in icons, I feel as though I am truly gazing upon the Face of the Divine. And I have no doubt that is exactly who I am seeing.
I don’t know about you, but I do need things like icons in my own spiritual life. I need help more often than not. I need images. I need icons. I need them just the way I need incense and vestments and good music and the Eucharist. These things feed me spiritually. In them, I am actually sustained. My vision is sustained. My sense of smell is sustained. My sense of touch is sustained. And when it all comes together, I truly feel the Presence of God, here in our midst.
I can’t tell you how many times I have stood at this altar and during the singing of the Agnes Dei—the Lamb of God—I have actually looked down at that broken bread and into that Cup and have felt, amazingly, that Presence of Jesus. I have looked upon it and seen Jesus. And in seeing Jesus, I truly have gazed upon God. I have been made aware in that moment that this truly is Jesus on this altar. This truly is the Sacred and Holy Presence of God.
I can’t tell you how many times I have gazed deeply into an icon of Jesus and truly felt his Presence there with me, staring back at me with a familiarity that simply blows me away. This, I think, is what Paul is getting at in his letter. We truly do meet the invisible God in the Presence of Jesus.
For years, I used to complain—and it really was a complaint—about the fact that I was “searching for God.” I used to love to quote the writer Carson McCullers, who once said, “writing, for me, is a search for God.”
But I have had to come to the realization—and it was quite a huge realization—that I have actually found God. I am not searching and questing after God, aimlessly or blindly searching for God in the darkness anymore. I am not searching for God because I have truly found God in the person of Jesus.
In our Gospel reading for today, it seems almost as though Mary too has seen Jesus as the eikon of God. We find this very familiar story of Martha the busybody and Mary the content gazer upon Jesus. It’s seems most Christians have divided themselves into two camps regarding Martha and Mary, sort of like people now-a-days are divided into camps from the Full Moon/Twilight/Eclipse films—some people are “Team Edward” who believe the character Bella should go with the vampire Edward, while others are “Team Jacob,” believing she should go with the werewolf Jacob (I am so “Team Jacob,” by the way).
Similarly, we seem to find Christians who are either “Team Martha” or “Team Mary.” But some of us are a little bit of both. Yes, we are busybodies. Those of you who know me know I can be a busybody—or more accurately, I can be a unashamed work-a-holic—after all, I’m writing a sermon for a Sunday on which I am on vacation. But we can also be contemplatives, like Mary.
As an Oblate of Benedictine Order, in which the motto is “Ore et labora”—work and pray—I understand the balance between the two. I understand that there are times to be a busybody and there are times in which I simply must slow down and quietly contemplate Jesus. I often prefer to do this in front of the Blessed Sacrament, but sometimes I just do it wherever I am in Jesus’ Presence.
When we recognize that Jesus is truly the image of God, we find ourselves at times longingly gazing at Jesus or quietly sitting in his Presence. But sometimes that recognition of who Jesus is sometimes stirs us. It lights a fire within us and compels us to go out and do the work that needs to be done. But unlike Martha, we need to do that work without worry or distraction.
When we are in Jesus’ presence—when we recognize that in Jesus we have truly found what we are questing for, what we are searching for, what we are longing for—we find that worry and distraction have fallen away from us. We don’t want anything to come between us and this marvelous revelation of God we find before us. In that way, Mary truly has chosen the better part.
So, let us also choose the better part. Let us balance our lives in such a way that, yes, we work, but we do so without distraction, without worry, without letting work be our god, getting in the way of that time to serve Jesus and be with Jesus and those Jesus sends our way. Let us also, however, take time to sit quietly in that Presence and to gaze longingly at the Jesus who is more than just another human. Let us, rather, look into his face, let us look deeply into his eyes, and see there the fullness of God that was pleased to dwell there.
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