Secret Rewards

You may listen to Father Mullen's sermon here.

Your Father who sees in secret will reward you.  (Mt. 6:4)

We live these days in fear that someone is watching us, or listening to us – and for good reason.  Chances are not so bad that someone is listening, someone is watching, no matter where you are, no matter what you are doing.  Cameras will snap your picture if you are speeding or if you run a red light.  Surveillance systems will track you at the drug store, the grocery store, even on the street corner.  Satellites have been spying for decades, and now drones may be monitoring you overhead.  The NSA may be recording your phone calls, or reading your emails.  Whatever you are doing on-line, you are not doing it alone.  Someone is watching.  Someone is listening.

In most cases, the listening and the watching have to do with you being naughty.   Someone is trying to catch you, if you are being naughty, or if you are plotting to be naughty with someone else.  It is quite astonishing that with all this watching, all this listening, naughtiness still abounds, but it does.

For much of history, the great watcher, the great listener, the great arbiter of naughtiness, we have been taught, has been God.  God knows; God sees; God hears.  Don’t think your naughtiness escapes his notice.  God’s surveillance is more prevalent, and more pervasive, and more perfect than the NSA's.

God is watching you, and God will catch you!  This has been the message of a certain brand of Christianity – maybe the perceived message of nearly all Christianity – for centuries.  And who thinks that the discovery that you are being watched is good news?  Not many of us!

Back in the day, when religion was a given fact of your nation, or your city, or your family – OK, so God is watching; I guess you deal with the consequences.  But today, religion is much more of a choice.  And the suggestion that God is watching you, listening to you, spying on you, keeping track of you – does not sound like such good news to many ears.

Sometimes we think of Lent as a period of God’s intensified scrutiny of our lives.  This makes Lent the S.A.T.s of the church year, or the board exams, or the face-to-face interview, or something like that… when we dwell a bit more on the fact that God is watching us, and we allow ourselves to consider what God sees when he watches us.  And because we have veiled all the crosses, and put on dark violet vestments, and changed the music to minor keys, and sung the psalm that includes the phrase “I have been wicked from my birth; a sinner from my mother’s womb”… for all these reasons, the strong suggestion is made that if God is watching he cannot possibly be happy with what he sees when he looks down at you and at me!

And, of course, when you and I are honest with our selves, we know that we do, in fact, give God plenty of reason to be appalled when he watches us – well, maybe you don’t, but I do!  So, if God is watching, how can it be good news?

And we hear Jesus calling out the hypocrites for making a show of their piety.  And it sounds a lot like Jesus is warning his followers that if you act like the hypocrites, God is gonna get you!  God sees you.  God hears you.  God knows when you are being a hypocrite, and he is going to call you out and make you pay for it!  Isn’t this the Lenten message of the call to repentance?  God is gonna get you!  So you might as well come clean and get on your knees and admit what you were doing wrong – because God sees you anywayGod sees you in secret, just like the NSA, only better, clearer, surer!

When you hear the enemies of religion these days – and there are plenty of them - they will tell you that this is religion’s fundamental lesson: that God sees you, God will catch you doing wrong; and God will make you pay for it.  There are hordes of people who no longer go to church, because they believe this is the message of the Gospel – never clearer than on Ash Wednesday when we shame you with your smudge of ash and remind you in solemn tones to remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return, you worthless creature, you.

Except of course, that this is not the message of the Gospel at all, and not even the message of Ash Wednesday, when Jesus joins those who look down on religion in their most common objection – the tendency of the religious to be hypocrites: to say one thing and mean or do another.  And Jesus does not tell his followers that God is gonna get them for the things they do wrong.  He tells them this: God your Father sees you in secret, so there is no use in being a hypocrite.  For God is not looking to punish you; God is looking to reward you.  Your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

Jesus is saying that God is not looking for our faults; he is looking for our virtues.  God is not out to get us; he is out to give to us.  God is not trying to condemn us; God is trying to reward us.  Your Father who sees in secret will reward you.  We get so caught up in the other details that we barely hear Jesus say this: your Father will reward you.  We are not accustomed to the possibility that the purpose of surveillance might be to reward us.  It is surely not why the NSA is watching.

But the God who sees in secret seeks to reward his children.  God knows that just as some of your worst sins are committed in secret, so is some of your best work done in secret; for he is watching and listening: he knows.  And he is trying to teach us how to live.

Of course God knows you can be naughty – what kind of fool do you take him for?  But God also knows that you can be good, for that is what he made you to be.  And God wants to help you and me be good.

And this is what Lent is about – it is about God helping us to be good, by encouraging us to give him cause to reward us in secret – since that’s where most of the inner work of Lent has to be done – inside, in secret.

The call to repentance is always a call to practice being good, finding our better selves and giving freer reign to those better selves that are too often buried under our greedy, selfish desires.  But God knows the better self you have been stifling, and he’d like to see more of it.

Over and over, Jesus promises: “your Father who sees in secret will reward you,” but we struggle to hear this message.  So let me try to put it another way.

God is watching you.  God sees you, hears you.  God knows when you are being a hypocrite and when you are being true to yourself.  Be your best self.

God knows when you are being naughty: try not to be.

Do not put on an act for someone else to see.

Do not think you must wear your faith on your sleeve.

Do not make the mistake of worrying what others think of you – some of them will be right, some will be wrong.

Worry instead about what God thinks of you.  Consider what God sees when no one else is watching.

Remember that you have had some of your worst moments when no one else is watching, but that you have also had some of your best moments when no one else is watching.

Consider that there are more of your best moments ahead of you, and that part of the challenge of life is to have more best moments than worse moments – for God is watching them all.  In secret.

Do you know why God is watching you?  Do you believe that it is because he wants to catch you when you are naughty?  Could you give God a little more credit than that?  Don’t you realize how easy it is for him to catch you?  Even your mother could catch you – it’s even easier for God.

Do you know why God is watching you?  Do you suspect that it is because he is gonna get you?  Do you believe God’s greatest desire is to punish you for all that you have done wrong?  Have you confused God with the NSA?

Do you remember that God loves you?  Even though he knows all about how naughty you have been.  Even in secret.

God still loves you.

God still sees you in secret.

And God, your Father, who sees in secret, wants so much to reward you – that’s just the way he is: kind of secretive.

For God remembers how good you are, how much goodness is in you.  He put it there.

And no one else may ever see it as clearly as God does.  No one else may ever see it as secretly as God does.

But God does see you in secret, and he will reward you.  This is his deep desire in Lent: to find the reasons to reward you.

Which is why he asks you to look deep into your secret self – where only he and you can see – and find the reasons there to be good, find the reasons to be rewarded.  And to practice them – secretly most of the time.  But never mind, God sees in secret, and will reward you.

 

Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen

Ash Wednesday 2014

Saint Mark’s Church, Philadelphia

 

 

Posted on March 5, 2014 .

Sermon on the Mount

You may listen to Mother Johnson's sermon here.

I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.

 

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

 

It’s often said that the Sermon on the Mount is such a tough set of teachings that modern preachers tend to soft-pedal it.  We will be tempted, subtly, to turn Jesus’s teachings into something a little bit easier to live up to.  Turn the other cheek?  Jesus didn’t mean that, and we can’t do that, and it can be hard even to talk to each other as though we believed Jesus wanted us to think about doing that.  So the temptation on Sunday morning is to ease away from the Sermon on the Mount.  Instead of the Sermon on the Mount, in fact, we are more likely to give you the Equivocation in the Pulpit.

 

Well, I’ve come up with a great solution.  I can’t bear to soft-pedal this Gospel, so I’m going to suggest that we just skip right ahead to next week’s Gospel and talk about that one.  Bear with me: this might work. 

 

Next week, we are going to hear about something that happens on a mountain that is much lovelier to contemplate: the Transfiguration.  Next week, in Matthew’s Gospel, we will hear about how Jesus took Peter and James and John up on a mountain, and suddenly he became radiant.  His face shone like the sun, and his garments became gleaming white.  And Moses and Elijah appeared with him, and they had some kind of mysterious conversation.  Peter liked the experience so much he proposed building tents: “Lord,” he said, “it is good for us to be here.”  He could see Jesus as Jesus had never been seen before. Yes, it may have raised many questions for the disciples to see their Lord transfigured.  In fact, it filled them with fear when the heavens open and a voice declared “This is my Son, the Beloved.”  But we know that they were overcome by the holiness of the Son of God, and that this was a picture of Jesus they returned to later, after the resurrection, as they tried to explain who Jesus was.  It gave them the faith to bear with what came later.

 

Well, as I’ve said, that was a much nicer mountain than the one we are faced with this week.  But maybe we should think of this week’s mountain experience as a transfiguration, too.  Maybe this week, as Jesus goes up on a mountain and turns around to speak to the disciples, maybe Jesus sees them transfigured.  Maybe before Jesus could speak the way he did, urging them to do seemingly impossible things, maybe the heavens opened for Jesus and he heard a voice saying, “These are my beloved children. Tell them who they really are.”

 

Maybe Jesus could see, when he looked at his disciples and at the crowds of followers far below them, that their faces were shining with the glory of God.  And maybe their garments, dusty from the journey, seemed to him to be glowing and pure.  Maybe Jesus got a glimpse of what they could be as the children of God.  Perfect as God is perfect.

 

And maybe it was that transcendent understanding of his own disciples that led him to speak to them as he did.  Maybe he saw that right now, right here on earth, there could be visions of human life that revealed us—you and me—to be the children of God.  Maybe for a vision like that you would go the extra mile.  Maybe for a vision like that you would forgive when forgiveness seemed impossible.  Maybe it was so overpowering to see the blessedness of the peacemakers and the poor in spirit and the cursed and the reviled, that if you saw that vision of blessedness you would have the courage to speak, to urge others to do what they could never imagine doing. 

 

Maybe it made sense to him, when he saw us all looking so resplendent, that we could love each other through the darkness and the violence and the bad faith and the fear.  Of course!  The sun shines and the rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous.  And so does the resplendence of God.  So does the hope of transfiguration.  So does the hope that we might love beyond measure, beyond propriety, beyond good sense.

 

That’s what brings us all here this morning, really, isn’t it?  That hope that we can live a transfigured life?  And I know Jesus saw us hoping when he looked upon his disciples and that crowd in the distance.  I know he sees it still.  He could say this to us on that mountain, and he can say it through our timid pulpits: love your enemies.  That’s really what you were made for.  Just as the Father made the sun and the rain to fall upon the earth, he made you to love.

 

And when Jesus he saw that, he saw what we would need from him to be able to maintain this wild faith. He saw that we could do it if he did it first, if he died for us and rose for us and fed us with his body and his blood.  He saw that we would need to draw together as the church to live this mystery.  We would need the Holy Spirit. He saw that we would need to hesitate, and equivocate, that we would confuse forgiveness with resentment and self-punishment.  He saw that we would misuse these teachings as reasons not to act against injustice.  But he saw something about us on that mountain that would give him the courage to work with us.  Something that would make us able to bear these teachings and live with their impossible demands.  He saw that once in a while some of us would shine through and glow and live as the children of God.

 

Whatever he saw in us on that mountain, my brothers and sisters, it gave him an unfathomable patience.  It gave him every moment of every day since, to live in us and show us what forgiveness is and teach us what it means to love those who don’t love us.  It made him willing that we should become his own body, his own hands reaching out in healing and consolation, his own words speaking God’s very truth. 

 

No, it isn’t easy to take the Sermon on the Mount as our instruction for living.  No, it isn’t easy to urge another person to forgive when forgiveness seems impossible.  A thousand cautions spring to mind, some of them very good ones.  Some forms of love look more like setting boundaries.  Some forms of forgiveness are only possible from a safe distance.   Sometimes we have to stand next to someone stronger than we are before we can learn what it really means to turn the other cheek.  But real love is always the truth.  The glowing light of God’s love is always there, waiting to transfigure us and the situations in which we struggle. 

 

Jesus saw that and it gave him the willingness to trust us with these teachings.  It gave him the confidence to shine on us when we are righteous and when we are unrighteous.  It gave him the confidence to be lifted up on the cross, to place himself in our hands as bread and wine to feed us every day. 

 

We are timid and slow, but Jesus was and is sure of us.  He was and is sure of himself in us and with us.  Brothers and sisters, let us be sure of him as we bear with one another.

 

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Preached by Mother Nora Johnson

23 February 2014

Saint Mark's Church, Philadelphia

Posted on February 25, 2014 .