Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 4th Sunday in Eastertide

Worship that never ends as part of grand company of purified and redeemed faithful!  What a lovely picture of eternity!  How can we ensure we are part of so wonderful a promise?  Read, listen, and prayerfully reflect to find out.

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 4th Sunday in Eastertide

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 3rd Sunday in Eastertide

Please forgive the late post; some technical difficulties made an audio sermon this week untenable.  As we continue our journey through the Revelation, we get a sneak peek into the worship of heaven.  As we read our lessons and sermon text below, plus contemplate what that means for our worship on earth now, may we each take special care to ascend in heart and mind where Christ is now that we might enjoy foretastes of glory divine before his return.


A village rector was contemplating heaven during his prayers one day, thinking of the possible things he might miss from earth.  As he was doing so he wondered aloud, “Are there golf courses in heaven?”  “Yes,” boomed a voice that startled the cleric, “with perfect greens, ideal weather, and soaring vistas.” “Wow!” marveled the excited priest, “I can’t wait to enjoy them!”  “Good, because I have you marked for a foursome with another new arrival, St Peter, and me this coming Saturday.”

As the lectionary moves us through a peek into eternity during this Easter season with our Revelation readings, we pause today consider heaven—specifically the worship of heaven.  The lectionary only provides a snapshot of a broader scene.  We haven’t gotten to the point where we see heaven arriving on earth yet.  We have barely even gotten started with the judgment imagery at this point in the Revelation.  So don’t get a headache, like an old college friend of mine used to whenever he tried to peruse apocalyptic passages.  And don’t fret about trying to match every last symbol to some purported but unverifiable contemporary figure, government, or event in the newspaper.  If it wasn’t on St John’s or the Early Church’s mind, we can hardly expect it to speak much more clearly to us, except as grand symbols of the cosmic battle between good and evil for us later.

But here’s a bit of what we can know. Chapter 5 begins with a scene of sorrow.  A scroll, written on both front and back, sealed with seven seals (seven being the number of completion or perfection) in God’s right hand.  Later, in chapter 6, we would see the opening of that scroll, and the famed four horsemen show up—bringing plague, war, famine, and death.  But for our purposes we only need to know God’s righteous justice is being symbolized in the scroll.  The angelic announcement goes out asking who is “worthy” to open the scroll.  And there must have been a moment of bated breath, as John is driven to tears, longing to see God’s judgment being brought to bear, so that the evil we sinful humans have brought about might cease.  That’s when one of the 24 elders, representing the leaders of the faithful both before and after Christ, comes up to John and assures him with these words, “Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.”

That’s right, Jesus has shown up, having won the victory over sin and death, fulfilling—even surpassing—the old covenant’s messianic hopes.  And now the scroll of divine justice is entrusted to his capable hands. The elders, who each hold harps and incense bowls—representing praise and prayer respectively—fall down in obeisance to Jesus.  And they sing a song extolling our Lord, declaring: Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth.

The sacrifice of Christ on the cross is being celebrated, because we who believe are ransomed—bought from unjust captivity to sin and death as it were—and gathered together from disparate classes, ages of history, sexes, and races to be made a new kingdom under Christ’s gracious and benevolent rule.  And not only that, we have been elevated in God’s mind to rule and serve alongside our Savior.  St Paul elsewhere even offers almost as a throw away statement to the Corinthian church that we are going to “judge angels!”   And this is something the elders endorse as a worthwhile focus in their worship of Christ.  They are inspired by the rescuing hand of Jesus for all who put their trust in him!

Sorrow has been flipped to joy.  And that’s where our lesson picks up today.  With the complete panorama of the heavenly host joining their voices with the voices of the elders.  “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” they echo.  And then creation itself joins this heavenly chorus, “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!”  And the scene caps off with a resounding affirmation of “Amen!” by celestial creatures and prostrating elders.  The worship of God in heaven cascades down to us on earth—a veritable answer to our regular prayer of hallowing God’s name and asking for his will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Christ is worshipped for his restoring us back to the Father and elevating us in the eyes of heaven.  Christ is worshipped for his inherent worthiness as the Incarnate Word.  Christ is worshipped for his glorious power in rising up victoriously over death.  Christ is worshipped for his willingness to bring the usurping power of evil to an end.  Christ is worshipped because he paid the price that a holy God requires of sin.  Christ is worshipped because he has set us free!  And we are invited into that worship, to ascend from earth to heaven, by the representative company of those leaders in sacred history, both those who have longed for the Messiah and those who experienced the fulfillment of messianic hopes in the person and work of Jesus Christ.

Marty Coleman, one of our own local saints, organist emeritus, who has now gone on to join the company of the very elders John mentions today, used to teach the children’s choir, “We don’t bring God down to us, we ascend up to meet God where he is.”  That’s the reality of our worship in this in-between time as we await Christ’s return.  Later, heaven will come down to earth and the two will be made one and the same, in fully integrated spiritual material perfection for eternity.

Until then—as we consider what we do on Sunday week in and week out; how we pray daily in the midst of busy schedules; looking for moments to share Christ’s love in word and deed; anticipating encounters with the holy in moments of surprise and the humdrum goodness we typically take for granted.  Until then, we should be proactive to “lift up our hearts,” just as we pray before holy communion; instead of trying to yank Jesus down from heaven early, before every ear has heard the Gospel, before every knee has had a chance to bow willingly, before every heart has had a chance to fully embrace and confess the love of Jesus.

We need to take every moment of every day and try to set our minds on things above—not be overcome with the trials and temptations of things below.  And as we daily ascend in heart and mind to where Christ is—the Lamb seated upon the throne, with full victory, full love, full justice and mercy—we’ll find ourselves naturally sanctifying our lives, seasoning an unpalatable sin-ridden earth with a taste of the heavenly banquet, and breathing the sweet incense of eternity into the stinky areas of life through our prayers.  Sunday worship trains us for living in eternity.  May we all go up to Jesus in our hearts, that we might see heaven on earth.  Let us pray…

Grant, we pray, Almighty God, that as we believe your only‑begotten Son our Lord Jesus Christ to have risen from the dead and ascended into heaven, so we may also in heart and mind there ascend, and with him continually dwell; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.  Amen.

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 3rd Sunday in Eastertide

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 2nd Sunday in Eastertide

The readings today for this Sunday in Easter season not only remind us of Christ’s resurrection in the past but catapult our imaginations to the new creation we look forward to when Jesus returns.  This Sunday, I invite you to consider the cosmic Christ and how you might more fully embrace the reality of who he is and what he has done for us.

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 2nd Sunday in Eastertide

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – Easter 2016

Christ is risen!  Alleluia!  And by his resurrection, our Lord has ushered in the breakthrough of eternity into time and space – the beginning of the new heavens and new earth promised by the prophet Isaiah (which we find in today’s readings here).  How have you seen the new creation begin in your life?

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – Easter 2016

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – Good Friday 2016

On Good Friday, the folks of St Francis and I had the pleasure of joining my friend Rev. Arnie McFarland and his congregation at Calvary United Methodist.  He led the service and I preached.  The readings can be found here. My sermon and some special music from Arnie and I afterword can be heard below. How has the sacrifice of Christ and his initiation of the new covenant impacted your life?

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – Good Friday 2016

Rev. Arnie McFarland’s Sermon: The Bread and the Cup – Maundy Thursday 2016

My friend, Pastor Arnie McFarland, and I not only share our musical talents in the community, but have held combined worship at each other’s congregations for the past few years during Holy Week.  Last night on Maundy Thursday, I led our service Holy Communion while he preached.  The lessons can be read here. I invite you to reflect with Pastor Arnie on the unifying power of coming to Christ’s table.

Rev. Arnie McFarland’s Sermon: The Bread and the Cup – Maundy Thursday 2016

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – Palm Sunday 2016

Sometimes, you can’t count on technology, so this week I’ve enclosed a text version of this Sunday’s sermon.  I think it’s important to engage in the full breadth of Holy Week and not cop-out Palm Sunday to fast forward through to Good Friday. So at St Francis make use of the Liturgy of the Palms plus Morning Prayer as the Liturgy of the Word with the daily office readings (See the AM readings listed here) to flesh out a eucharistic office service that allows us to keep our liturgical feet firmly planted in the Hosannas–while encouraging our flock to attend Maundy Thursday and Good Friday to share in the Last Supper and the Passion of our Lord.  Reflect on the sermon text below as we prepare to fight the good fight of faith, following our Lord into Jerusalem to walk the way of the cross.


When I was in elementary school, if there was going to be a big fight after school, it was going to take place at “the big oak.” It might have been maple tree, but it was just outside between the elementary and middle schools, near the parking lot, with good sight lines in all directions to look out for teachers who might break it up. I only ever got in one fight in my life, when I was a kid…not at the big oak…at the bus stop on the way to school after some kid purposefully stomped in the mud and splattered my new pants. He took me down, but I made him cry. It felt exhilarating! It felt shameful. And it sure didn’t clean the stain on the ‘80s pastel yellow slacks I was so proud of in their preppie glory.

It’s hard for me not to think of grade school memories while thinking of the battle language of our reading from St Paul’s letter to Timothy and the Christus Victor language of Holy Week—the language of Jesus as the One who wins the battle—language that carries us from public accolades today, to sober celebration on Thursday, to unjust crucifixion on Friday, to dramatic resurrection next Sunday.

What battle stories do you think of when the Bible mentions themes of spiritual conflict and victory? I know I wish I had heard the war stories of my dad’s dad, who served in Korea but passed while my father was still a boy. Maybe you or someone you love has amazing war stories of defending freedom; scary stories of fighting for life—one’s own or someone else’s; conflicted stories of fighting for something of unclear moral value—maybe even unconscionable in hindsight; shameful stories of arguments or fisticuffs over what even then were petty, selfish anxieties. No one goes through life without experiencing conflict. No one is ever fully shielded from violence, pain, battle, or suffering. Not even Jesus!

But today, Palm Sunday, the battle’s just beginning. The crowd is roaring and raring to go! The pump is primed to throw off the yoke of Roman oppression! Just say the word, Jesus, and we’ll pull out the swords to cut off some ears, we’ll stir up the pot of the angry masses who long for a mythical bygone Jerusalem or America, we’ll wear the suicide vests to enforce the peace of heaven! If you think we’re too enlightened to be duped into mob rule, man-made visions of heaven being shoddily constructed on earth, peace by the point of the sword, or mere mortals claiming messianic levels of perfection…just turn on the news.

The battle has started, but Jesus never even lifts a finger. Hear these words from our own hymnal:

Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle; of the mighty conflict sing; tell the triumph of the victim, to his cross thy tribute bring. Jesus Christ, the world’s Redeemer from that cross now reigns as king.

Jesus wins the battle not by resisting the powers that be, not by kicking butt and taking names, not by amassing a force of fighters…but by turning violence and worldly power on its head. He marches into town on a donkey, not a steed of war. He turns the other cheek…slap after slap, beard pull after beard pull. He forgoes heaven to go through hell for us. He takes all the punishment on himself that we deserve. And he finally dies, only to vacate the tomb 3 days later. This is the battle of Jesus. It starts today, and finishes within the week.

But you and me, our battle has only just begun. Elsewhere, Paul reminds us that our battle is not against flesh and blood, but is spiritual. But here he encourages Timothy and us to walk the path of the Jesus. “Fight the good fight of faith.” What exactly does that mean? Well, it doesn’t mean Crusader-style forced conversions. It doesn’t claiming persecution any time someone merely disagrees with you on matters of religion. It doesn’t mean pining for some glorious past in some hyper-spiritualized funk. No, our loving Father is at work among us today to bring tastes of the promised heavenly future into our moment, our earth, our right here right now. And it sure doesn’t mean entrusting our hopes to the presumptuous, the populists, or the bullies who claim messianic-level ambitions but don’t even come close to modeling messianic character.

Jesus the Good Shepherd is neither caliph nor politico. He is King of kings. He dwells in inapproachable light. He alone holds dominion. And he exercises that power with gentleness, humility, peace, and compassion. He models the “good confession” in the face of worldly pretensions and unjust powers-that-be—a confession, conviction, and confounding peaceableness we are exhorted to emulate without backbiting, complaining, or calling down curses. Christ’s glorious majesty should be seen in our virtue and compassion. Our lives should be like icons, windows into heaven by which the greatness of our Savior and King can be seen beautifully and clearly by everybody. And the fight we fight is within us against temptation, against sinful attitudes, against habituated evil; and outside us as ambassadors who bring Good News of heavenly clemency and blessing in both word and deed. We are becoming tangible models and practitioners of the love of Jesus in a sin-sick and grave-bound world.

It’s quite the battle! We’ll have to learn how to hold our tongue when slandered. We’ll have to learn how to offer real help to those who wish us ill. We’ll have to learn to say I’m sorry to people who may not forgive us. We’ll have to emulate the character of Jesus when the temptations are strongest and the immediate benefits are least apparent. It may even mean having to suffer the indignity of having your church defaced and your family separated from you as you’re imprisoned under state sanction, as has been happening in places like China for decades. That’s what it means to walk the way of the cross. That’s what it means to fight the good fight of faith. Thankfully it’s a battle Jesus has already won. And it’s a victory we share with him the more we trust him and the more we reflect his love and glory to those around us. Let us pray…

Almighty God, whose dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other that the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – Palm Sunday 2016

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 5th Sunday in Lent 2016

Change is inevitable, but when it comes from heaven it is good.  Read and reflect with me on the new thing our Lord does for us and creation through Jesus Christ. (For the “visual aid” with my opening joke, click here.)

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 5th Sunday in Lent 2016

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 3rd Sunday in Lent 2016

What are you looking for in life?  What is God looking for?  Does what you’re looking for line up with what God’s is looking for?  Reflect on the these questions in light of this past Sunday’s lessons here and my thoughts below.

Fr. Lenny’s Sermon – 3rd Sunday in Lent 2016