The children of time

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Sermon for February 15, 2026

Readings:

It can be very hard to talk about holy and mystical moments and experiences in life. Some things just touch us so deeply and personally that they defy explanation. To talk about them can feel sacrilegious and you can feel this even if you aren’t religious. The birth of a child, the death of a loved one, viewing a stunning natural wonder, or even having an incredible meal…these things can be experiences that are really hard to convey with words. We may also experience things that are so outside our understanding of the natural world that it may be embarrassing to talk about them. We don’t want people to think that we have totally lost our grip on reality. Our experience of the world is not always as simple as we would like it to be. Sometimes the most profound things are the most difficult to talk about. 

This morning our gospel reading was the story that we refer to as the Transfiguration. The disciples Peter and James and John had a mystical experience of Jesus on top of a mountain. They were some of his closest followers, and I am sure that they were hoping for some private one on one time with their teacher and leader. But what they got was so much more. They had an experience, an encounter. They saw Jesus transfigured. His image changed. There was a light that shone from him that they hadn’t seen before. To make it even more bizarre, they saw the figures of Moses and Elijah on either side of Jesus talking to him. God was trying to show them something. There was a deep connection between Jesus and Moses and Elijah. And then there was a voice from heaven: “this is my son the beloved, listen to him.” No doubt, these disciples had all been hoping that if they went up the mountain alone with Jesus that he would finally answer some of their more pressing questions, but that isn’t what happen. Sometimes we come to God looking for answers and we walk away with more questions, and that is certainly what happened to Peter and James and John. They experienced something that was really unbelievable, and at first it frightened them. 

I am sure that those three disciples were relieved when Jesus told them not to tell anyone what they just saw, because who would have believed them anyways? It wasn’t time yet. Some holy encounters you have to hold onto for a while. But we know that eventually Peter and James and John did share their experience of Jesus on the mountain. Peter alludes to it in his letter this morning, it was remembered by the other disciples and recorded in the gospels. Those three disciples shared their experience of Jesus on the mountain with the rest of the community after Jesus rose from the dead and everyone was stunned and wondering how to make sense of what just happened. After the Resurrection, the experience that Peter and James and John had in private would help to shape the church’s collective understanding of who Jesus was as the son of God and what his life and ministry was all about. Three individuals had a private encounter with God; their experience was their own; and yet all of us in the church are blessed by it. 

The Christian life is a funny thing. We come to God individually, but as a group. And if that sounds like an obvious contradiction it is because it is. Our faith is filled with such paradoxes. We are baptized one by one, as individuals, and yet we become a part of something larger than ourselves: the Church. Christ’s body. We have individual relationships with God, but we are undeniably shaped by the community around us. We are many and we are one at the same time. We each have the capacity to experience God individually, and yet our collective understanding of God, as the church, is never defined by the experience of one person. That is why Peter says in the epistle this morning that “no prophesy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the holy spirit spoke from God.” The scriptures belong to all of us, collectively. They were written by human hands, but the message is from God and for all of us. So, in order to read them faithfully we need each other. No one human being has the final say on the interpretation of scripture. The final say will ultimately always belong to God, but until we meet God face to face, we will need each other. We need each other’s insights and wisdom. We need each other’s experiences. That is what has shaped our faith over the centuries.

There is a famous eighteenth-century French lawyer and philosopher names Jean Anthelme Brillat Savarin. He became especially famous as one of the world’s first food writers. He is known for saying “tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.” I always thought that that was a line that Christians should ponder as they come forward for communion. Well, he wrote this book called the Physiology of Taste, and yes it is the sort of thing I read when I am on vacation because I am lots of fun. Anyways, in this book Brillat Savarin writes that “the sciences…are children of time and are formed insensibly by the collection of the methods pointed out by experience…” Sciences are the children of time. They are formed by the collection of experiences. Science is about learning from observation, over and over again, across time. Scientists learn from each other. They learn from each others’ experiences. They also learn from each others’ mistakes. But that deep communal knowledge is a process that takes time. So the sciences are the children of time.

But I could say the same thing about faith and religion. Or at least, our faith and our religion. Science and faith do not have to be adversaries. There are differences to be sure, but they are both children of time. They are both formed by the collection of experiences. They both learn from observation. They just observe different things. Our faith wasn’t formed by one person. It has been shaped by a hundred generations of people stretching back through time. Even Jesus, who we believe to be the son of God and the perfector of our faith, even he lived in conversation with those who came before him. That is what those disciples saw on the mountain when they saw Jesus speaking to Moses and Elijah. He was in continuity with the law and the prophets. He was their fulfillment. But he was part of a bigger story, just like they were part of a bigger story. Each individual has their own relationship with the creator, but they each also contribute in some way to our collective understanding of God. We each have a story to tell, but we are each a part of a much bigger story. Christianity is not, as Peter says in his epistle, “some cleverly devised myth.” This isn’t something that one clever person just sat down and made up one day. Nobody would make something this ridiculous and illogical and paradoxical. You just wouldn’t. If you were going to write a story from scratch, you would write one that was more believable. A really clever person would have made sure that there were no inconsistencies in the scriptures, but they are there. A clever person would have made this simpler and easier, but Christianity is not simple or easy. If that is what someone is trying to sell you then they aren’t selling you true Christianity. Our faith is organic. It has been shaped by time and countless faithful human beings, but it has never been fully controlled by us. It is bigger than all of us. And wilder. 

Each child that is being brought forward this morning already has a story, and a family, but each one is about to be linked to a bigger story and a bigger family. Each child is an individual and will have their own relationship with their creator, but they won’t do it alone. That is a part of our commitment as the church. We are here to walk with God together. We are here to learn from each other and from shared experiences. We are here to listen to the voices of those who came before us, AND to the voices of those who will still be here after we are gone. We each have a role to play in the life of the church, but it is not about us. It is bigger than us. We each have a voice, but our voice is one among many. 

In a few moments parents, you will be asked to come forward and commit to raise these children as Christians. That commitment begins with acknowledging, with all of us, our faith and belief in who Jesus is and what he did. That is the creed that the baptismal covenant begins with. It isn’t the product of one person; it was shaped by the collected experiences of many. That is our testimony to what we believe that God has done for us, and what follows is our faithful response to God and to each other. We commit to prayer and learning and worshipping TOGETHER. We commit to living lives of repentance. We commit to sharing the good news of God in Christ. We commit to loving our neighbors as ourselves. And we commit to striving for justice and peace and respecting the dignity of all. All of this, both the belief and the lives lived in response to that belief, we do not only as individuals but as members of the church. Our lives and our stories are forever linked to the lives and stories of those who have come before us, and those who will come after. Whether baptism takes place like this in the middle of a Sunday church service, or in a private ceremony in a river or on a beach, we do not come to the font or the waters of baptism on our own; we do so among a great cloud of witnesses. We do so as a people who are a part of something so much bigger, and mysterious and magnificent than words could ever describe. 

The Devil’s Beatitudes

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Sermon for February 1, 2026

Readings:

Then he began to speak and taught them saying:

Blessed are the rich in pride, for theirs is the kingdom of this world.
Blessed are those who feel no sorrow, for they do not need to be comforted.
Blessed are the bold, for they can just take the earth.
Blessed are those who are self-righteous, because they are already filled.
Blessed are the cruel and inhumane, for mercy is for the weak.
Blessed are the pure in ideology, for they will see God in their mirrors.
Blessed are the troublemakers, for they will be called my children.

Blessed are those who are praised for wickedness, for theirs is the kingdom of this world.

Blessed are you when people praise and adore you and utter all kinds of flattering things to you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your rewards will be great on this earth, for in the same way they praised the great and powerful who were before you.

I sincerely hope that all of you are able to identify what is wrong with everything I just said. I hope that you can recognize that those are not the words of Jesus. What I have just given you is what I would call the Devil’s Beatitudes. Sometimes, in order to see something clearly, it is helpful to take a look at its inverse or opposite. It’s like a photographic negative where light is dark and dark is light. It is only when you shine a light through a negative that you can see things as they really are. All of those things I just said may sound appealing; they may even sound true, but you know…or at least I hope you know and can recognize that they are false. They are not the words and teachings of our Lord. They come from somewhere, or someone, else entirely. 

But when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. 
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. 
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. 
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

That is a very different message than what I said in the beginning. I can remember vividly the first time I read those words for myself. It was in a bible that my grandmother had sitting on her desk. That part of the Bible, the sermon on the Mount, was illustrated. Baptists sometimes like to pretend that they don’t like images in worship, but don’t you believe it. They just want the images to be in their bibles and not on their church walls. Anyways, I can remember reading those words and just being struck by them. Even as a child I could sense that there was some very deep truth there. I could also sense, that what Jesus was saying and the values that he was teaching, conflicted with the values that I could already see being lived out in the world. Although I wouldn’t learn this word for many, many years, Jesus was being counter-cultural. His words were a challenge to the dominant culture in the world. They were a challenge in his day when he first spoke them to his disciples. They were a challenge when I first read them as a child. They remain a challenge to us today. This very day. Jesus’s words have been a challenge to us in every age, throughout time. Even during those times and ages, like our own, when Christianity made at least a nominal claim of being the dominant culture or religion…even then, Jesus’s words have proved to be a challenge…and sometimes an indictment. 

As a church, we go to great effort to honor what we believe to be the word of God. It is read aloud at every worship service. Frequently much of it is sung, as in the psalms which have always formed the backbone of the church’s daily worship. Jesus’s words are given even greater reverence, being encased in silver and gold, processed into the congregation, and listened to while standing at attention. Hours are spent listening to preachers expound upon these texts with varying degrees of effectiveness. We honor these texts even when they challenge us to be better and to do better. 

Hear, you mountains, the controversy of the Lord,
and you enduring foundations of the earth;

for the Lord has a controversy with his people,
and he will contend with Israel.

“O my people, what have I done to you?
In what have I wearied you? Answer me!

If you attend our Good Friday services, then you may recognize that last line from the Prophet Micah. It is sung by the choir during the veneration of the cross in what we call the reproaches or the Popule Meus. The words are sung as if they are the words of Jesus, but they are much older than Jesus. We believe Jesus to be the incarnate son of God who calls us to new life and a new way of seeing the world. His life was unique in its reconciling power, but as the reproaches and the words of the prophets make very clear, God has been challenging humanity to do better for a very long time. We believe our God to be loving and forgiving and we believe that our God saves us when we cannot save ourselves, but we also believe in a God that calls us to be better and to do better. We believe in a God who calls us to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with him. We have preserved those words of the Prophet Micah, like we have preserved Jesus’s sermon on the mount, NOT because they merely affirm us as we are, but because they challenge us to be better than we are. They challenge us to put more trust in God than we do in the powers of this world or even in ourselves. 

Preserving that message and sharing it with the world is a part of the vital task of the church. And the church is criticized sometimes for not appearing relevant to the world we live in. People don’t get us and what we do. The rituals seem arcane and unimportant. People wonder what church is even for. Some people think that the church is too politically active; others think it is not politically active enough. Well, I think that our faith should inform our politics and not the other way around. Our faith should inform our politics; our politics should not inform our faith. But so often that is what we see on both the left and the right. Well, I have no sworn allegiance to any political party, but I do have a sworn allegiance to Jesus. Partisanship is never going to save us. But Jesus will. We need to be bigger than the stupid, petty partisanship that surrounds us. We need to be witnesses to a better way. That is what makes us relevant. We are relevant because the God of the Jesus and the prophets is still God, and is still calling us to do better and to be better. 

Very often churches like Ascension, that are very intentionally traditional in style and worship, are accused of being museums (as if that is some sort of insult). I was reading an article this week about the Anglican Priest Percy Dearmer. He lived at the end of the nineteenth through the beginning of the twentieth century. He was something of an antiquarian and had a bit of style. I wouldn’t have agreed with him on every liturgical point, but he thought that worship should be beautiful and he thought that traditions should be preserved and there we certainly agree. He was criticized for fostering what was called “British Museum religion.” I have no doubt that there are some who think that that is what we are about. But if that is true, then it is not in the way that the critics mean. The author of this article I was reading wrote that “The museum metaphor becomes apt only when one recalls that museums are not cemeteries of the obsolete. They are classrooms, treasuries, and places of encounter. They invite us to listen to voices that would otherwise be lost.”

Museums invite us to listen to voices that would otherwise be lost. Think about that the next time you go to the Met. Museums invite us to listen to voices that would otherwise be lost. Think about that the next time you come in here. Because if that is what a museum is, then I am proud that that is what we are. We are a classroom, a treasury, a place of encounter. We are a place that invites people to hear voices that the world would rather drown out. And the most important voice of all those voices that the world would like to silence and forget is the voice of our Lord. We need to be a place where his voice is heard. We need to be a place where his words, his actual words, are proclaimed and remembered. Because the world is always going to want to forget, or twist, or warp, or misunderstand. We need to hear his words so that we can recognize when we hear words that are not his.