Monday, January 27, 2014

A Homily for Epiphany III


Primary Text: John 2:1-11

Let the words of my mouth and the mediation of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord my strength and my redeemer. Amen

            I drove slowly through the snow late last night, longing simply to curl up in my bed and drift sweetly into sleep. Longing to be home. I was returning from a funeral and visiting with a new clergy friend, and I knew that I had spent too long talking, but the fellowship was good and like sweet water for my heart. I knew that even though the conversations I had were good for me, I longed for home, longed deeply for my bed, and for my eyelids to be able sink heavily as I drifted to sleep. The snow whipped severely around and at times, disorienting me to the point that I couldn’t even tell if I was moving forward or standing still. As the minutes drifted towards hours and my soul grew weary.
            As I drove my mind was on the worship for this morning; my mind was on the begging question of whether or not I would be ready, and I started to think about the act of worship, for this is much of what I talked about yesterday with old friends and new, and much of where my mind was. I started to wonder if we grasp, even dimly what we are doing in worship. I wondered if I grasped it and if I had explained or am even capable of explaining the breadth that is the worship of our Lord. I wondered if I could find to the words to do so.
            As I drove I thought of our worship, the importance of both parts of it. There are two parts in our worship. There is the liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Faithful or the Sacrament.  These two elements contain the very essentials of what we need for a healthy spiritual life, for we do not have life without the word; nor do we have life without the sacrament. There are exceptions to these rules, but in the context of a healthy congregation we must desire both and we need both for our growth and strength. For it is in the word that we come to know God, it is in the word that we are able to hear his voice. Yet the sacrament heals our hearts and our souls, it touches us in a way that the word cannot; it goes beyond our very ability to intellectually understand and touches us in a way we cannot quite grasp. In a very real way we are both experiencing the sacrifice of God and in that experiencing the eternal worship that we look forward to at the end of days.
            Let us pause for a moment and really look at the liturgy. It is designed to be an invitation into the worship of God and even more importantly into experiencing God. It is not a hope for the next great emotional high; liturgical worship, while it can touch every element of the human being, is not there to give us an emotional comfort or the warm and fuzzies, rather it is a hope to experience God, even if only at the very edge of His being, even if it is only to view Him from behind as he passes by, as Elijah saw him on the mountain.
            Worship, like the worship in the temple, is a dim image of what we are preparing for. We are preparing for the final, the full participation in the marriage feast of the Lamb. So it is that we start with an examination of our souls, where we look into ourselves and see the darkness of our hearts. We cannot claim that we have kept the commandments; we cannot claim that we have kept even the summary of the law. For if we search in earnest, we see that we have failed to love God completely and failed to love our neighbors completely; if we think on what Christ said on the sermon on the mount, the bar is set high and our hearts long for our own sense of justice, long to rule over ourselves, and long to rule over our neighbors. We do not long to allow the sovereign Lord to be our ruler. For this is the crux of the curse. This is why we reexamine this every week; this is why we then call out to God – Lord have mercy! Christ have Mercy! Lord have mercy! For it is only in His mercy that we can approach Him; it is only by the blood of the Lamb that we can come to him; and it is in this outpouring of love that our unruly hearts are brought into submission to His will.
            The Introit turns our hearts to the love of God. Recently we have started doing this responsively and generally using a full psalm or at least a longer portion of one. The Introit is a calling and an invitation to bring of our hearts into deeper worship of God; it is a preparation to hear His word. The word of God demands a response; the word of God is how we hear the voice of the Lord. The Gradual calls us into hearing His word more deeply and beckons us to enter into the new covenant, departing from the old; for as we enter into something new we enter into something that is greater than the old. For the old was simply a dim image of that which was to come; the old law only convicted us and brought us death. The old covenant was completed in the new and the dim images that we see swirling through the old were made clear when Christ came into the world. It is in this new covenant that life comes again into the world. We stand with eagerness to hear the proclamation of the Gospel and then we immediately respond with the Creed. Historically in the catholic church the Creed came after the sermon – but the reformers, I believe, desired that the people respond with belief immediately following the proclamation of the good news in the Gospel, and so this is what we do and then we hear the word expounded upon, now in the sermon.
            After the sermon we enter into the Liturgy of the Faithful, into what is known more academically as the Anaphora. Through this liturgy we begin to enter into intimate worship of the Lord; we are called to come and experience Him. After we have prayed for the whole of the church, after we have prayed for those who have come before us, after us, and those who walk with us now, after we are reminded that we are not alone but very much a part of something bigger, we are invited to look back and look forward. We are invited to partake in the marriage feast of the Lamb. We are invited to partake in the super that the Lord instituted. We look back and look forward in this moment, for the event itself is timeless. The event is eternal. We are very much partaking in something eternal. It is a taste, a glimpse of what our participation in heaven will be. For in the Eucharist we experience the once offered, sufficient sacrifice for all, not represented – but re-experienced. We also, dimly experience the marriage feast of the Lamb, promised for the time of eternity. The Eucharist, coming into it and partaking in it, is in fact the pinnacle of worship. It is in this strengthening and in this remembering and looking forward to the future promise that we are strengthened to head into the world.
            So, what does this have to do with the lessons today? St. John’s Gospel is broken up into two parts:  the miracles and the teachings. However, the whole of his gospel screams one thing – this is the Lord, this is the Messiah, the Son of God, the very God incarnate among us. The only way to escape this testament is to adulterate the text. St. John’s Gospel tells us that something monumental has happened; that the very Lord has burst into the world and that His love is overwhelming.
While it is impossible not to see this testimony from the very beginning of his text, it is at the marriage feast at Cana where Jesus’ first miracle was performed, that we slowly grasp his bursting forth of Love, which is a prefiguration of the final supper, the supper of the Lord. This miracle is so astounding for it was a profound act of Love. If the hosts had run out of wine, it would have been an insult to the guests, and it would have been tragically embarrassing for the new couple. It would have been something like inviting people over for dinner and then saying you forgot to actually buy food to make your guests dinner. Hospitality in Christ’s culture was of the utmost importance. A wedding feast would have lasted days and clearly the feast was all ready getting long.
            However it was not enough for Christ to simply provide them with some wine, it was the best wine that was served at the feast. We know this because the organizer, the feast planner, if you will, was angry because the best wine should have been served first, and this was the best wine. It was overwhelming, a scandalous and an astounding act of Love.
            It was also a prefiguring of something and a reveling. It was an act of re-creating. It was an act of creation. When he turned water into wine it was a speeding up of the very essence of the universe; the grape vines grow only when watered and over time grapes spout; the grapes are juiced and fermented and finally after much time and much work you have wine. This act of creation was sped up in these moments. Simultaneously he uses a piece of the old covenant, the jars for purification and fills them with what will eventually be a figure of the new covenant. He is already starting to show that all things will be made anew, showing the incredible pouring out of His love on the cross, the pouring out of the blood of the Lamb for the making new of those who would hear the call and come and partake.
            Perhaps you are wondering what does all this have to do with longing – which is where I started; longing for bed, longing for rest, longing for home and for safety. We long to be with God, we long for our hearts to be filled with His love. While the curse causes us to desire to rule ourselves, we know deep down inside that there is something greater than the ego, an ongoing ache for something more. We are void and tired without this inflowing of His love.  “As the deer longeth after water, so my heart longeth after the Lord.” He is the only one who can fill this longing, who can fill this want. It is Him alone who plants, who grows and who builds. While we are active participants in history, history is made complete and redeemed by God alone. In the end, His true justice will be served. While it may seem like the road is long and unending and may seem to bring us nowhere, eventually we find we have come a little closer to God and we know eventually we will be brought fully into that eternal promise. When we come into worship, when we enter into the completeness of the Eucharistic invitation we are drawn into a taste of the long promised completion of all these things.
            So come let us put our trust in God, let us worship the One who creates, who builds and who makes anew. Let us trust in the fulfillment of the promises that He is there, that He is good, that His mercy is greater than anything that we could ever imagine. Let us rejoice in the wine that is better than we could ever desire. Let us partake in the marriage feast of the Lamb. Let us enter into that deepest promised relationship with the Lord. For He has called and we have heard and here we are, let us now be continually made into new creations and let us rejoice in all He has done.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, Amen.

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