Epiphany 7

The offertory anthem, commissioned in 1912, is a compilation of scriptural passages in Daily Light on the Daily Path, a series of booklets containing Bible readings which Ireland used to observe on a regular basis. It gained rapid popularity with the outbreak of war in 1914. It resonated as the casualties from the front mounted. And while I appreciate the sentiment of laying down your life for your friend, wouldn’t it simply be easier to put down the weapon? What about not starting wars altogether?

I love this anthem. It’s meaningful to me. It’s a wonderful example of Anglicana, conjuring monarchical images of a mighty potentate, nose high in the air. One could easily say Episcopal worship is thronelike. As the only parish in the diocese with an east-facing altar, I’d say that’s exactly what it is – thronelike. But it might be more of a game of thrones. Afterall, there is an interesting root in the word majesty, and that is “jest.”

Who are you kidding, when you think there is a free agent out to get you? His majesty sat with his back to the wall, presumably to prevent attack from behind. But what are enemy lines when Christ himself admonished, “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” I thought honor was to lay down your life for your friends. If enemies are friends, who are we kidding when we pick up a weapon? Is there an enemy line? Yes, but in the inflicted individual, who is riddled or jested by fear. His Majesty?

Einstein taught us the important theory of relativity. Eastern philosophies of yin/yang remind us that beauty is known because we know ugliness. Good is known because we know evil. Friends are known, because we know the so-called enemy. Relativity seems to make the world go round. In aviation, gravity and wind resistance “oppose” a plane. But this is what makes it soar. A creaky body, heavy weights, and gravity “oppose” the body builder. Working out makes you sore and soar. Doubt and fear hold us back, but do they? How can faith strengthen without the pushback of the shadow of doubt, or the so-called enemy line, holding you “back?” Why not just step over it and see what’s there?

When you listen to today’s anthem, pay particular attention to the “aha” moment, the dazzling, spine-chilling segment which sings, “into his marvelous light.” It’s the climax, when one crosses over enemy lines and sees what’s “back there.” In other words, who’s got your back when all you see is the front? This is where faith initiates.

What’s on the “other side” of our altar frontal? Some shrubs, a bent fence, an asphalt parking lot. Just stuff. The crossing of enemy lines is not of this world but is here and now in a realm I can’t point to with signs perceived. If you look at what’s behind the altar, you won’t be impressed, but if you look “behind” your heart you will find a greater love than to lay down your life for a friend – to lay down your life for an enemy. Must we make more scapegoats out of the inherently innocent? Jesus already did this.

Conflict in “the world” begins with me. We’re all destined to see what’s on the “other side” – a mere shadow of doubt, a friend and strengthener of faith, an ineffable knowledge that all is well. I used to think I was in deep trouble. Now, I’m in deep peace, one who will not oppose nor is opposed, but who is perpetually washed, unconditionally free, and wholly sanctified just because I am who I am – Love for all. Soli Deo Gloria.