A Clue about the Meaning of Easter

The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones,

2 And caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry.

3 And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest.

4 Again he said unto me, Prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.

5 Thus saith the Lord God unto these bones; Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live:

6 And I will lay sinews upon you, and will bring up flesh upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and ye shall live; and ye shall know that I am the Lord.

7 So I prophesied as I was commanded: and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bone.

8 And when I beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin covered them above: but there was no breath in them.

9 Then said he unto me, Prophesy unto the wind, prophesy, son of man, and say to the wind, Thus saith the Lord God; Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.

10 So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood up upon their feet, an exceeding great army.

11 Then he said unto me, Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel: behold, they say, Our bones are dried, and our hope is lost: we are cut off for our parts.

12 Therefore prophesy and say unto them, Thus saith the Lord God; Behold, O my people, I will open your graves, and cause you to come up out of your graves, and bring you into the land of Israel.

13 And ye shall know that I am the Lord, when I have opened your graves, O my people, and brought you up out of your graves,

14 And shall put my spirit in you, and ye shall live, and I shall place you in your own land: then shall ye know that I the Lord have spoken it, and performed it, saith the Lord. - Ezekiel 37:1-14

One of my favorite movies is Clue, based on the board game, and starring some comedy greats, such as Tim Curry, Eileen Brennan, and Madeline Kahn, among others. It brings to life the game, with the characters, such as Colonel Mustard, the rooms, and the weapons, as they try to figure out who committed the murder where and with what weapon. But one of the best things about the movie is that there are three endings, each done after the other – so the viewer is free to pick the one they like best.

Now you may be wondering why I am talking about such a ridiculous movie at the Easter Vigil. But here's why – thanks to the resurrection, we have a different ending as well.

We just heard a wonderful set of some of the best readings from the Old Testament, which describe the creation and exodus from Egypt and other major points in the story of God's relationship with the people of Israel. They are all my favorites – but one I especially love to hear at Easter is the story of the valley of the dry bones from Ezekiel. In one church I attended, in college, the choir would sing the old spiritual "the knee bone connects to the foot bone" as the response to this reading.  Maybe we can do that one year!

What I love about that story is the way that God gives a different ending to the story. The people in the story are dead.  Not just dead, but so dead that all that is left is very dry bones.  No flesh. No muscle. No fat. Just dry bones.

But then God asks Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, and they start connecting with each other, and are covered with muscles and skin, and become people again.  But there is no breath in them. So God asks Ezekiel to prophesy again, and the breath enters them, and they are alive again!

I think we have all been in the valley of the dry bones.  We have been in situations where we feel like all that is left is dry bones. 

When we think of the sins we've committed – the way we've hurt others, ourselves, the planet.  When we think of the ways in which we've been sinned against, and hurt, and wounded.

But that isn't the ending.  There's another ending.  Jesus Christ took our sins, and put them to death on the cross, and rose again, victorious over sin and death.  We are now forgiven, absolved.  Those sins no longer exist in our lives. 

That is the power of Easter.  A new ending.

We've been in other situations where we feel like all that is left is dry bones.  The relationship that didn't work out.  The job that didn't pan out.  The ways we beat up ourselves for being failures.  We've all been there, or at least had loved ones who have been there.

But thanks to Easter, that isn't the ending.  There's another ending.  We know that our self-worth doesn't depend on our relationships, or jobs, or successes, or failures.  We were created by God, and we were redeemed by Jesus Christ.  Our self-worth comes from being created in the image of God, and being redeemed by Christ's death and resurrection.  

We've all been trapped by sickness, or known someone who was.  We've had loved ones who have died.  And that story is very depressing, very sad – no one will be permanent in our lives, because they will all eventually die – unless we ourselves die first.

But thanks to Easter, that isn't the ending.  There's another ending.  We know that Jesus Christ, through his glorious resurrection, has conquered death, and enabled us to do likewise.  We will see our loved ones again. We will live in joy in eternity with God.

We celebrate this Easter, because the ending of our story has been changed to a new ending – a much, much better ending – of life, joy, and companionship with God and one another.  Thanks be to God through our Lord Jesus Christ who gives us the victory!

Alleluia, Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

The pope's Request for Forgiveness from the LGBT Community

Sacramental theology refresher: if you come to confession and confess a sin and seek forgiveness, but tell the priest that you will continue to commit the sin and have absolutely no intention of changing your behavior, the priest must withhold absolution, because you're not sorry for your sin, you just want a "get outta hell free" card. Your "confession" is actually in and of itself sinful. (Note -- I'm NOT talking about people confessing habitual sins they find it very difficult to quit, but who have every intention of doing what they can to change, even though they believe the efforts will not be completely effective. I'm talking about people who have NO intention of changing their behavior.)

So when pope Francis is saying the Roman denomination should seek the lgbt community's forgiveness, but will continue to refuse to marry same-sex couples and will continue to work to prevent-laws giving rights to same-sex couples (as he himself has done recently in both Italy and Slovenia), and will continue to write anti-transgender encyclicals (such as his environmental encyclical), he is NOT sorry for the actions of his denomination at all. He is worried that, post-Orlando, people will connect the dots between religious hatred of lgbt people and violence against lgbt people.

Until and unless he officiates at same-sex marriages, requires all Roman clergy to do so as well as a condition of continuing in their ministry, announces his denomination's support of legalizing same-sex marriage and laws against discrimination, rewrites his environmental encyclical to remove the anti-transgender portions, and otherwise changes his behavior and that of his denomination to stop hurting lgbt people, his apology is meaningless and nothing but a "get outta just criticism free" card.

The Meal and the Oil That Don't Run Out

1 Kings 17:8-16

8 And the word of the Lord came unto him, saying, 9 Arise, get thee to Zarephath, which belongeth to Zidon, and dwell there: behold, I have commanded a widow woman there to sustain thee. 10 So he arose and went to Zarephath. And when he came to the gate of the city, behold, the widow woman was there gathering of sticks: and he called to her, and said, Fetch me, I pray thee, a little water in a vessel, that I may drink. 11 And as she was going to fetch it, he called to her, and said, Bring me, I pray thee, a morsel of bread in thine hand. 12 And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die. 13 And Elijah said unto her, Fear not; go and do as thou hast said: but make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and for thy son. 14 For thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lordsendeth rain upon the earth. 15 And she went and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many days. 16 And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord, which he spake by Elijah.

I still remember the first time I heard the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, when I was about three years old.  I was in the den of the parsonage where we lived, the house provided by the Baptist church my father pastored, and my father read the story to me.  I heard that they were preparing their last meal, and gathering sticks, and I thought they were going to eat the sticks – that's how my three-year-old brain worked.  My father was not amused.

It's a very odd story on a number of levels.  First, Zarephath, in Sidon, was not part of Israel, so it was strange that God sent Elijah not to an Israelite household, but to one outside of Israel, to live until God lifted the drought they were experiencing.  Second, she was obviously very poor, since she was preparing what she thought would be her last meal for herself and her son.  Why would God not send Elijah to a wealthy benefactor?  If you read the stories of Elisha, his successor – and they are some of the most entertaining stories in the Bible! – he had wealthy benefactors.  And then there was the way the miracle went down – there was never much meal or oil, yet they never ran out, and there was always enough to eat, until the drought was over, and the rain came again.

In our modern-day culture, we are taught to plan ahead.  Days, weeks, months, years, and – in the case of retirement planning – decades.  You've probably heard the saying "To fail to plan is to plan to fail."  And that advice has much merit in the secular world.

But it is not so with our spiritual lives, as much as we may want it to be.

Instead, God provides us with what we need, when we need it.  Not what we will need for the next 30 years.  What we will need for today. 

Which can be frustrating.  Our spiritual journey is not mapped out for us – it is something that we must make our way forward on each day, only going where God leads us.  When the Israelites were in the desert, the pillar of cloud (by day – pillar of fire by night) would rest on the tabernacle – they would only leave and move forward when it raised up and led them.  They did not know from day to day when this would happen, or where they would go next – not even Moses, Aaron, or Miriam.  Similarly, they were fed with manna – and they could only gather one day's supply at a time – it would go bad otherwise (except on the day before the Sabbath, when they were to gather for two days). 

Similarly, Elijah, the widow, and her son were given what they needed each day.  I'm sure the widow found it nerve-wracking at the end of preparing each meal, wondering if the miracle would continue.  But it did.

We are given the spiritual sustenance we need each day – through scripture, through the Eucharist, through prayer, through our fellow human beings.  We may want more, but we are called to sustain ourselves with what God gives us each day, and do the tasks God sets before us, not worrying about tomorrow.

With our finances, yes – we should plan for the future.  And in our career.  But in our spiritual lives, let us find the courage to trust that God will provide, and that the meal and the oil will not run out, but will continue to feed us until God sends the rain.

Holy Boredom

Rather than the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience, Benedictines take vows of stability, conversion of life, and obedience, and the call to remain in the cell is a call to stability.  (Actually, you can probably see all three vows in the call to the cell, but I want to talk about stability.)

In our modern culture, we are used to constant stimulation and excitement.  Boredom is the enemy -- we are terrified of it.  This spills over into the spiritual life, and there is the danger of always being on the lookout for the next spiritual "high".  I myself certainly spent my twenties and much of my thirties in this quest for the next spiritual "high", for that magic bullet that would transform my spiritual life.  The right denomination, or congregation, or liturgy.

But, in reality, there is a "holy boredom" that we must experience if we are ever to experience authentic spiritual maturity.  Prayer will be boring much of the time -- at least if we're doing it right.  We show our love for God most clearly when we pray even though we don't feel like it -- and when we do that task that we would really rather not do, but know we should.  We must commit ourselves to the mundane, the ordinary, the plain, even the uncomfortable.  And that is found in a commitment to one's daily life.

Go to the Desert -- See a Burning Bush -- God Will Call You by Name

Exodus 3:1-15King James Version (KJV)

3 Now Moses kept the flock of Jethro his father in law, the priest of Midian: and he led the flock to the backside of the desert, and came to the mountain of God, even to Horeb. 2 And the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed. 3 And Moses said, I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt. 4 And when the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I. 5 And he said, Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. 6 Moreover he said, I am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. And Moses hid his face; for he was afraid to look upon God. 7 And the Lord said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their cry by reason of their taskmasters; for I know their sorrows; 8 And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey; unto the place of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites. 9 Now therefore, behold, the cry of the children of Israel is come unto me: and I have also seen the oppression wherewith the Egyptians oppress them. 10 Come now therefore, and I will send thee unto Pharaoh, that thou mayest bring forth my people the children of Israel out of Egypt. 11 And Moses said unto God, Who am I, that I should go unto Pharaoh, and that I should bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt? 12 And he said, Certainly I will be with thee; and this shall be a token unto thee, that I have sent thee: When thou hast brought forth the people out of Egypt, ye shall serve God upon this mountain. 13 And Moses said unto God, Behold, when I come unto the children of Israel, and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers hath sent me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is his name? what shall I say unto them? 14 And God said unto Moses, I Am That I Am: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I Am hath sent me unto you. 15 And God said moreover unto Moses, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, the Lord God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, hath sent me unto you: this is my name for ever, and this is my memorial unto all generations.

As Christians, we are called to go out into the desert to meet God.  Moses shows us what that looks like in his encounter with God in the burning bush.  When we look at the burning bush, we learn the signs to recognize our own encounters with God.

You might say, "Why do I need to go to the desert?  God is omnipresent – can't I hear the voice of God somewhere else?"  Of course, God is omnipotent.  Of course God can speak to us anywhere.  The question is, rather, where can we hear God?

Moses had quite a life before he went to the desert. He was born at a time when Jewish boys were supposed to be killed as soon as they were born.  He was not – he was hidden in a basket in the river, and the Pharaoh's daughter found him, and he was raised in palaces, raised to be powerful. But he felt the oppression of his people, and decided to do something about it.  When an Egyptian was fighting with an Israelite, Moses intervened, and killed the Egyptian. The trouble is that word got out, and Moses feared for his life.  So, broken and scared, he retreated to the desert, and took a job as a shepherd, and married.

And then one day, as he was out with his flock, the unimaginable happened – he saw a scrub bush burning – but rather than being consumed in a few minutes, it kept burning!  Curious, Moses approached.  And God spoke to him.  God called him by name.  "Moses, Moses!"  Moses answered, "Here I am."  Then God called Moses to take off his sandals, because the ground he stood on was holy ground.  Yes – the hot desert sand, filled with scrub brush, was holy ground.  And then God gave Moses a task – to lead the people of Israel out of slavery and bondage – out of Egypt – into the Promised Land.  In Hebrew, Egypt, "Mitzrayim", means "narrow places" – and many Jews, as they observe Passover, reflect on what the narrow places in their lives are, and how God leads them from the narrow places into redemption.  And then God tells Moses the most sacred name of God – "I will be what I will be" – a name that reveals God as the source of all existence.

And so it is with us.

In our daily lives, we are inundated with lots of voices.  The voices of our friends and family.  The voices of our boss, our coworkers, our customers.  The voices of the media.  The voices inside of us – criticizing ourselves, worrying, wanting.  Yes, God is speaking – but how can we hear the voice of God over the noise that constantly surrounds us?

So we're called to go out into the desert, where the external voices are silenced. We go out into the emptiness, the dryness, the quiet – where we can hear the Spirit move, blowing as the wind. Of course, just because the external voices are silenced doesn’t mean the internal ones are silenced.  The early desert fathers and mothers in the Christian tradition went into the desert, and spent the time fighting demons.  Jesus went into the desert and was tempted by Satan for forty days. 

But the demons aren't the only ones there.  So is God.

And God will come to us, in the most unlikely of ways.  In burning dry brush, which seems like an act of destruction, God speaks to us – and brings forth life in abundance.

God calls us by name – when we are in the desert, retreating from our mistakes (maybe not as bad as Moses killing a man, but still bad), fighting our demons – that is when the Creator of the Universe comes to us and calls us by name. 

And we're called to remove our sandals – our defenses against the desert sand and the creatures – snakes, scorpions, thorns – that inhabit it – because only then can we be vulnerable to God, and open ourselves to the transforming power of God.

And at that moment, when God calls us by name, and we respond, the desert becomes holy ground.  Not the magnificent temple or cathedral, not the palace with its soft carpets – the desert.  Because all is stripped away, and we are free to face God with our mistakes, our demons – and our openness, and our possibilities.

And it is that moment that God calls us to our mission – a mission of liberation, of redemption, of bringing people from slavery, bondage, narrow places – into the promised land of freedom and abundance and the joy of serving God in a community of the redeemed.  And in committing to that mission, God reveals to us the sacred name of God.

Let us go to the desert.  Let us keep our eyes open for the burning bush. And let us be prepared for God to call us by name, give us our mission, and make known to us the sacred name of God.

This is the new introduction to the ICCC canons:

The Faith of the Independent Catholic Christian Church

by Timothy W. Cravens

Being an Independent Catholic, or Independent Sacramental Christian, means a number of things. 

Our understanding of what it means to be “Catholic” is very similar to the basis for ecumenical dialogue put forth by the Anglican Communion in the Chicago-Lambeth quadrilateral in the nineteenth century.  The quadrilateral identifies the Scriptures, the Creeds, the Sacraments, and the apostolic ministry of the historic episcopate as the irreducible elements of Catholic faith and practice which must be maintained at all costs.

First, as Independent Catholics, we accept the historic creeds of the church – the Nicene Creed and the Apostles’ Creed – which teach the basic truths of the Christian faith.  God exists as One God in Three Persons from eternity to eternity.  God created the universe and all that is.  God created humanity in God’s image, and when humanity sinned, provided redemption by becoming a human being in the person of Jesus Christ, who was fully God and fully human.  Jesus died on the cross and then rose again from the dead, and by that death and resurrection, we are saved and restored to full and right relationship with God.  God continues to be with us as the Holy Spirit, and continues the saving work of Christ through the Church, through its proclamation of the Word and celebration of the Sacraments.

We also accept the word of God expressed in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments.  We read the Bible in community as the Church.  We interpret it in the light of the Tradition of the Church.  We bring to bear upon our study the best use of Reason.  And we use the lens of our Experience to understand the movement of the Spirit among the people of God in the Scriptures and what it has to say to us in our own day.  We do not attribute to the Bible infallibility – only God is infallible, and to attribute that to a creature is idolatry.  We hear the Spirit speak words of life and truth through Scripture – and any use of the Bible as a weapon to hurt others is a misuse, and not an expression of the word of God.

We rejoice in the sacramental life of grace, in which God uses created things to convey grace to us.  There are two great sacraments of the Gospel, Holy Baptism and the Holy Eucharist, in which all Christians share.  We are baptized in water, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, through which our sins are forgiven and we are made members of Christ’s Body, the Church.  In the Eucharist, we receive the consecrated bread and wine which have become the Body and Blood of Christ, and are strengthened in our relationship with Christ and with one another and are sent out to do the work of Christ in the world.  There are also five other sacraments which give us grace in time of need.  The sacrament of Reconciliation gives us absolution and forgiveness of sins, reconciling us with God, one another, and ourselves.  The sacrament of Anointing of the Sick brings healing of body and soul.  The sacrament of Confirmation brings an outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our lives, giving us new strength for the service of God.  The sacrament of Marriage brings God’s grace to the lifelong covenant between two people committed to one another as spouses.  The sacrament of Ordination gives grace to deacons, priests, and bishops to carry out particular ministries in the Church.

We believe that there are certain ministries that are necessary for the Church to function in its fullness.  While all Christians share in these ministries, as well as other ministries, some Christians are called to these ministries in sacramental ways.  Some Christians are called to a life of sacramental servanthood, sharing also in the proclamation of the Gospel and assisting in the celebration of the sacraments.  They are called to be deacons.  Some deacons, in addition to sacramental servanthood, are called to a life of sacramental sacrifice, proclaiming the Gospel and sharing in the sacrificial ministry of Jesus Christ by offering the Eucharist and other sacraments and blessing the people.  They are called to be priests.  Some priests, in addition to sacramental sacrifice, are called to share in the pastoral oversight and governance of the church, and in ordaining others to be deacons, priests, and bishops.  They are called to be bishops.  We believe that bishops share in the ministry of the apostles and are brought into that ministry by a laying on of hands that has been passed down from the apostles.

These beliefs are common to a number of churches – Orthodox (both Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian), Roman Catholic, Anglican, Old Catholic, and Independent Catholic.  But there are certain things which distinguish us from other churches.  First, unlike both Orthodox and Roman Catholic denominations, we do not believe that the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church is to be identified with a single denomination.  We believe that all the churches which hold the Creeds, Scripture, Sacraments, and Apostolic Succession of bishops, priests, and deacons are Catholic and are real churches, part of the one Church.  Furthermore, just as we reject the notion that the Bible is infallible, so we also reject the idea that the Church, or any part of it, or any individual office within it, is or can be infallible or indefectible.  The commitment of Jesus Christ to the Church is infallible – but to assign infallibility to a creature rather than the Creator is idolatrous.  We also reject the belief that dogmas outside of the Creeds which some have proclaimed to be “infallible” can be so regarded, or required as beliefs.  So, for example, while the doctrines of the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption are certainly permissible beliefs, they cannot be required as a doctrinal test for any member of the Church.

We share the belief that the Church is fully present in a number of denominations as well as the rejection of infallibility with our Anglican and Old Catholic (Union of Utrecht) sisters and brothers.  

There are three characteristics which distinguish us from them.

First, these churches believe that, ideally, the church should be one organizational entity divided geographically so that there is only one diocese in a given location.  While they may be in full communion with other churches that have dioceses in the same locale, they see this as an interim measure until organizational merger and unity can be accomplished.  As Independent Catholics, however, we reject the idea that there should be one organization worldwide with only one diocese in an area, because we have seen, historically, how this leads to corruption.  We instead hold to the early church model of independent local churches that cooperate with one another.  The only universal Church is the invisible fellowship of all the baptized.  We also accept that, in this age of greater mobility and electronic communication, local churches may be formed by networks of those who have a particular charism of ministry rather than a particular geographical location.

Second, Independent Catholics, unlike mainstream churches, do not typically own church property, and therefore meet in rented spaces or homes.  This usually means that local communities are smaller, and gives them opportunities as well as imposing restrictions which do not exist when a church has its own building.  This means that the traditional territorial parish paradigm does not exist for Independent Catholics.  Also, it means that we integrate sacred space into our lives in ways not possible in most mainstream churches.  We reserve the Blessed Sacrament in our homes, and like the early church, this is not restricted to clergy or religious, but is open to the laity who wish to do so as well.  We integrate liturgy, celebrated in our homes, into our daily lives, so that the boundary between prayer and daily life becomes much more permeable.

Finally, Independent Catholics, with very, very few exceptions, rely on volunteer clergy who are not paid for their ministry.  This has a number of implications.  First, this goes hand in hand with the smaller communities that are typical of Independent Catholic churches, since the clergy only have limited time to devote to pastoral ministry, and the communities can exist without paying a clergy salary.  In mainstream churches, often small churches are forced to close if they cannot pay for the maintenance of a building or the salary of clergy – these are not concerns of Independent Catholic churches.  Second, while in mainstream churches (in particular the Episcopal Church), there are limits to the number of candidates who can be accepted into the ordination process because the church can only support a finite number of clergy with salary, benefits, and often housing, in Independent Catholic churches, anyone who is able to meet the requirements of the ordination process and who shows signs of a genuine vocation may be ordained.

The Independent Catholic Christian Church, in addition to sharing the above-mentioned characteristics with other Independent Catholic jurisdictions, has a number of characteristics of its own, shared by some but not all other jurisdictions.

We are fully inclusive of women and lgbt folk in all aspects of church life, and in particular in ordination and marriage.  While many mainstream churches are moving in this direction, there is controversy about both and issues as to whether and how inclusion can happen in particular local contexts.  In the ICCC, full inclusion of women and lgbt Christians is a settled issue – those unwilling to accept it do not find a church home in our jurisdiction.

Another characteristic that we have that distinguishes us from some is that we embrace not only the Roman Catholic heritage, but also the Orthodox and Anglican heritage that we have as a result of drawing apostolic succession from all three streams.  One particular way in which this manifests itself is in our worship, as we embrace liturgical diversity, drawing from the Byzantine, Roman, and Anglican liturgical traditions – and from both traditional and modern versions of these traditions.  While each local community determines for itself exactly how this will be expressed in its own rites, we give mutual respect and embrace for those who may pray in a different liturgical rite than the one to which we are accustomed.

Thus, Independent Catholics are a group of churches that are rooted in ancient tradition, proclaiming the faith of Christ crucified, risen, and returning, celebrating the sacraments, living together in love – but willing to find new ways to minister to an ever-changing world.  We invite you to join us in the Independent Catholic Christian Church, to share with us in proclaiming the Gospel and living its demands.

Sermon for the Feast of Christ the King

And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.  – Ephesians 1:23

It is difficult for us, as Americans, to understand what it means to live in a monarchy.  We live in a democratic republic, where we elect representatives to make laws for us.  If we are unhappy with the job they are doing, we can vote them out and replace them with new representatives.  Even our principal interaction with a monarchy is a constitutional monarchy, where Queen Elizabeth is merely a symbol of national power, with the actual governance left up to a democratically elected parliament, with its prime minister and cabinet.  Her role as queen is largely reduced to waving to crowds and cutting ribbons and being saddened by the scandals of her offspring.

It’s interesting that, although the concept of Christ’s kingship is a biblical one, the feast itself was only instituted in 1925 by Pius XI to be observed on the last Sunday of October, as a way of trying to reassert the Roman denomination’s secular political power against a rising tide of secularism and nationalism.  Given the atrocities that have been committed in the name of Christ by those denominations which have been established as “state churches”, I find myself rooting for the secularists this feast was instituted to oppose.  The political power amassed by the churches is in stark contrast to the life of Jesus, born in a stable, who ate and drank with outcasts, and who was executed as a common criminal.

Nonetheless, as the church, we must acknowledge Jesus Christ as our King.  And he is not a constitutional monarch who is content to cut ribbons and wave to crowds (although he undoubtedly shakes his head over the actions of many Christians as Queen Elizabeth does over the actions of her children and grandchildren).  He is an absolute monarch whose authority over the church is so complete that the church is described as his “body”.  We, as the church, are to carry out his commands as seamlessly as our hands do what our brains tell it to.

But what does that actually mean in practice?

Jesus Christ, in everything he did while on earth, acted in full union with God’s purposes on earth.  God created the universe, and us, as an expression of God’s love.  We sinned, and fell short of that expression.  God acted in revelation to the people of Israel, giving the Torah at Sinai and speaking through the prophets.  We, as Christians, believe that the fullness of revelation occurred in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, revealing to us God’s love.  God acted to redeem us.  God redeemed the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt, and as Christians, we believe that Christ’s death and resurrection redeems all of humanity from the slavery of sin.  Forty days after his resurrection, Christ ascended into heaven, leaving us to carry out his mission on earth.  On the day of Pentecost, the church was born, being given the gift of the Holy Spirit, God’s presence on earth, to empower us to carry out that mission.

And the mission is the same – to honor God’s creation, to act in such a way that our lives also serve as revelation of God – that God becomes known through us, and that we bring others to the redeeming love and power found in Christ, reconciling them with God, humanity, and all of creation.  Anything we do that participates in this mission is in accordance with the Kingship of Christ.  Anything that does not carry out that mission is extraneous and is an act of rebellion against the Kingship of Christ.

St. Augustine wrote, in his Rule, that “pride lurks even in good works in order to destroy them”.  The regular activities of the church – that which we are called to do – can be carried out in such a way as to glorify Christ and further his kingdom on earth, or they can be distorted and come to harm the cause of Christ.

We gather for worship to offer our prayers, to hear the Word of God in scripture, and to share in the Body and Blood of Christ.  Both the Word and the Sacrament are meant to transform us so that we are empowered to do Christ’s work in the world.  But if we come to worship, not looking for transformation, but merely for comfort and to feel good about ourselves, we risk turning worship into idolatry, with ourselves as the object of worship rather than God.

We are also called to be a community – but, again, the purpose of community is transformation and service.  If we engage with our church community merely to meet our social needs and not to be transformed into citizens of the kingdom of heaven, then we become a social club rather than the body of Christ.

As this church year draws to a close, and we prepare to begin a new year next Sunday on the First Sunday of Advent, let us take time to reflect on our lives, as Christians and as the church, and offer ourselves anew to Christ our King.  We give thanks for those ways we have been faithful, and we ask for grace to repent of the areas in which we have fallen short.

Lord God, deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal.  Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in Christ’s name.  We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ our great High Priest.  Amen.  (Adapted from Eucharistic Prayer C, Holy Eucharist Rite II, 1979 Book of Common Prayer)