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Cast Out the Slave-girl and her Son Galatians 4:12-5:1 by William Klock I have a non-Christian—or it would be better to say, anti-Christian—relative who, I've observed, is very uncomfortable with me being a preacher.  At one point she just came out and said it: As far as she's concerned, preachers are just moralising, kill-joy demagogues who glory in lording their authority over people and pontificating to them what they can and cannot do.  People like this think of God as a kill-joy in the sky and the preacher as his sour and spiteful earthly representative.  She has no clue that the preacher is the intermediary between the loving God who has given his word to make himself known and his people, filled with his Spirit, who desire to hear his word that they might know him and love him in return.  They have no idea that both the Bible and preaching sit at the intersection of God's love for his people and his people's love for him.  But it's not just non-Christians.  Even people in the church forget that God speaks—and he tells us what he expects of us—out of love and they forget that the preacher preaches that word out of love, too.  And so they get angry when they hear things they don't like.  Sometimes they get angry with God and leave the church entirely.  Sometimes they just shoot the messenger—the preacher.  And that's where Paul is at as we come to the middle of Galatians 4.  Paul knew the people in the Galatian churches well.  He loved them as brothers and sisters in the Lord.  And he's deeply troubled by what he's heard has been going on there ever since these agitators had arrived.  This is why he's writing to them.  And so far he's mostly been talking theology—explaining why these people urging them back into torah are undermining the gospel, the good news about Jesus.  And he's been building this argument as he's walked them through the biblical story, walked them through God's covenants with his people, walked them through the significance of what Jesus did when he died and rose again.  And he's about to finally make the point he's been working toward.  He's about to tell them what they need to do in light of all this.  But in verses 11-20 he pauses and he takes a breath and he reminds them who he is.  He reminds that he's not only their friend, but that he's their brother in the Lord who loves them—and that that's why he's taking the trouble to say all of this.  Look at Chapter 4, beginning at verse 12. Brothers [and Sisters], become like me!  Because I became like you.  You did me no wrong.  No, you know that it was through bodily weakness that I announced the gospel to you in the first place.  You didn't despise or scorn me, even though my condition was quite a test for you, but you welcomed me as if I were God's angel, as if I were Messiah Jesus!  What's happened to the blessing you had then?  Yes, I can testify that you would have torn out your eyes, if you'd been able to, and given them to me.  So have I become your enemy by telling you the truth?   Become like me, because I became like you.  These Christians were mostly gentiles.  Paul was a Jew.  But as he would later write to the Corinthians, he has become like all things to everyone.  Knowing that the gospel unified them as one in Jesus and the Spirit, Paul came and fellowshipped with them—he prayed and sang and worshipped and ate with them, despite their ethnic differences—which is something that can't be said of these false teachers.  And Paul reminds them of when he first arrived.  We don't know exactly what the problem was, but it sounds very much like he arrived in Galatia bloody and beaten after preaching the good news in some neighbouring city.  This might be what he was referring to when he said the brutality of the cross had been shown to them.  He'd stumbled into their fellowship having very nearly shared Jesus' crucifixion—and they welcomed him.  That would have been a dangerous thing to do.  Harbouring a man who had been in trouble another town over could have brought the local authorities down on them.  It sure wouldn't have looked good to the community around them.  But they welcomed Paul and took care of him as he regained his strength.  In the meantime, he proclaimed Jesus and the good news in his weakness.  And they received Paul and his message as if he were an angel, a messenger from God—practically as if he'd been Jesus himself. “So now,” Paul asks, “what's happened to that welcome?  Back then you knew my love for you and you would have plucked out your own eyes and given them to me if you'd thought it would help.  But now I've told you the truth—because I love you—and you're treating me like an enemy.”  Now he goes on in verse 17: Those other folks are zealous for you, but it's not in a good cause. False teachers are often full of zeal.  Enough so that they con good Christians into thinking that they've got the truth.  And then those conned Christians lash out when the pastor who loves them comes along to show them how the false teachers are wrong.  It happens over and over and over.  Paul says: They want to shut you out, so that you will then be zealous for them. Paul has the temple in mind, with its segregated courts.  Jews could go into the temple court, but gentiles were stuck outside.  They couldn't go in.  And these agitators, these false teachers are trying to make the Galatian churches like that.  The Jewish believers can come into church, they can eat at the Lord's Table, but the gentiles are stuck outside until they get circumcised and start living according to torah.  So Paul says, Well, it's always good to be zealous in a good cause, and not only when I'm there with you.  My children, I seem to be in labour with you all over again, until the Messiah is fully formed in you.  I wish I were there with you right now, and could change me tone of voice.  I really am at a loss about you.   Paul knew all about being zealous.  He'd been zealous for torah and he'd been zealous for persecuting Christians.  And then he'd met the risen Jesus and now he's zealous for the gospel.  Zeal isn't the point.  You can be zealous for anything.  So don't be taken in by the zealousness of false teachers and a false gospel.  And we get a sense of how Paul loves these people and, because of that, how he's so exasperated.  He thought they knew all of this.  He'd laboured over the gospel with them before, but now it feels like he's got to labour with them over the gospel all over again, because it's obvious they weren't as mature in the gospel—in the Messiah—as he had thought. It happens.  Mormons or Jehovah's Witnesses knock on the door and they've got carefully worked out arguments that fool far too many Christians.  Prosperity hucksters will tell you they've got the “full gospel” and they'll back it up with great zeal.  In our own day we've got various Messianic groups or the Adventists with a false gospel rooted in the same errors Paul confronted in Galatia.  They dupe Christians into their false teaching and, apart from praying for such people, all we can really do is confront false teaching with gospel truth.  That's what Paul does here.  Look at verse 21: So you want to live under the law, do you?  All right, tell me this: are you prepared to hear what the law says?  For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by the slave-girl and one by the free woman.  Now the child of the slave-girl was born according to the flesh, while the child of the free woman was born according to promise.   Do you recognise the story Paul's talking about?  He's going back to Genesis 16.  This is after God's promise to Abraham, but before the birth of Isaac.  Abraham and Sarah trusted the Lord.  They believed he would provide a son to inherit the promise, but from their perspective a natural heir was impossible.  Sarah was an elderly woman and elderly women past their child-bearing years don't bear children.  So they followed the custom of the day.  Abraham took Sarah's slave-girl, Hagar, as his concubine and had a child by her.  Because she was Sarah's slave, the child was legally hers. But, if you know the story, you know the plan backfired.  When Hagar became pregnant, she lorded it over Sarah.  In their culture, for a woman to be barren was a great shame and Hagar made sure that Sarah felt that shame.  Sarah, of course, wasn't going to stand for that, so she mistreated Hagar.  Hagar ran away, but in the wilderness the Lord met her and sent her back and she gave birth to Ishmael.  Years later—as if the Lord was really, really wanting to make a point to Abraham and Sarah that with him anything was possible—years later, when Sarah was even more elderly, she became pregnant and gave birth to Isaac.  Sarah became jealous of Ishmael and we have a cryptic text about Ishmael abusing Isaac, so Sarah banished Hagar and her son from the camp.  Ishmael would become the father of the Arabian tribes and Isaac would became the father of Jacob, who became the father of the Hebrew tribes—of Israel. It's possible Paul brings this up because the false teachers might have been telling this story in their own way, as if to say, “See…Abraham has two families.  You gentiles might have believed the gospel, but since the Jews are the free children of Abraham, you're like Ishmael and his sons.  If you want to really be part of Abraham's family, you're going to have to get circumcised and become a Jew.  Paul has heard this before and says, “No.  You've got it backwards and here's why.  Let's suppose that Abraham does have two families.  How can you tell which one is the slave family and which one is the free family?  Well, look at the story.  Ishmael was born according to the flesh.  He was the result of Abraham taking matters into his own hands.  Isacc, on the other hand, was born miraculously and in fulfilment of the Lord's promise. And now we see why Paul has been talking so much about covenants and inheritances and heirs all this time.  This is where he's been going with it.  In verse 24 he goes on: Think of this allegorically—as picture-language.  These two women stand for two covenants: one comes from Mount Sinai and gives birth to slave children—that's Hagar.  (Sinai, you see, is a mountain in Arabia, and it corresponds, in the picture, to the present Jerusalem, since she is in slavery with her children.)  But the Jerusalem which is above is free—and she is our mother.   All you have to do is follow the theme of promise through the story.  Well, that and you have to recognise that the story is ongoing.  The false teachers were telling the story as if it stopped with Abraham—or maybe with Moses—but Paul has been showing how the Abraham story, the story of a promise and a family and an inheritance that encompasses the whole world—Paul has been showing how that story is still going on.  So they were right to see the promise back in the story of the birth of Isaac, but now Paul's sort of urging them on: Yes, yes.  You've got that part right, but keep following the promise through the rest of the story.  Because Jesus changes everything.  And so, sure, Isaac was the child of God's promise and so were his children and their children and eventually the whole people of Israel.  But before his little break to remind them that he's not their enemy, Paul was also pointing out how the law, how torah was only meant to serve the promise family for a time—between Moses and the Messiah.  Remember, the human race is sick.  Israel had the same sickness, but the law held the sickness at bay until the promise could be fulfilled.  Or, Paul used the illustration of a babysitter, keeping the promise family out of trouble until the promise to them could be fulfilled.  And, that means, Paul has said, that as much as the law was a good thing given by God for a time, it kept the Israelites as slaves until the Messiah came.  So the law, he's saying here, the law if left to itself can never set people free.  The law, ironically, makes Ishmael children, not Isaac children. And then Paul adds this sort of parenthetical statement: For Sinai is a mountain in Arabia.  And his point is that—using this allegorical or picture language—the law of Moses, which was given on Mount Sinai, now represents the people, the family on the outside in the original picture.  As much as the Lord's promise once led his people to Mount Sinai where he gave them his law, the story has moved on in Jesus the Messiah and so Hagar—the mother of Abraham's son according to the flesh—Hagar now corresponds to Mount Sinai and Mount Sinai represents the law, torah, that the false teachers are saying the gentile believers have to keep. So Isaac represents the promise and freedom.  Ishmael represents the flesh, slavery…none of which would have been controversial, but now Paul has also shown that Ishmael also represents Mount Sinai and the law.  Again, we've got to follow the promise all the way through the story to Jesus and then to the present.  The law was part of God's provision for his people during the present evil age, but the Messiah has inaugurated the age to come.  So Paul's now ready to bring the false teachers into this.  They've been appealing to some authority figures in Jerusalem—maybe James, but we really don't know—just that they're in Jerusalem.  And Paul, in verses 25 and 26 is saying, “Okay, but they're talking about the present Jerusalem, not the heavenly Jerusalem, not the “Jerusalem above”, which is the home of all real believers and the true people of the promise.  To make his point he quotes Isaiah 54:1 which is addressed to Jerusalem herself: For it is written: Celebrate, childless one, who never gave birth! Go wild and shout, girl that never had pains! The barren woman has many more children Than the one who has a husband!   In Isaiah's day, Jerusalem was laid waste, but through the prophet the Lord gave hope to his people.  One day Jerusalem would be restored.  He put it in terms of a barren woman—like Sarah—finally knowing the joy of bearing children and having a family.  By Paul's day this had become an image of the age to come, when the Lord would return to his people and the heavenly city would come with him, heaven and earth would be rejoined, and his new age would dawn.  So the Jerusalem above—the promise of God's new age—it was barren, but now through the Messiah it's bearing children.  The promises are being fulfilled.  In contrast, the present Jerusalem—the city the false teachers are appealing to as their authority—it's got children, yes, but they're in slavery.  In fact, the earthly Jerusalem is slated for judgement and destruction.  So now Paul goes on in verse 28: Now you, my brothers [and sisters], are children of promise, in the line of Isaac. Follow the promise.  It has passed from Isaac to Jesus and now to these people—even though they're gentiles—because they have trusted in the Messiah.  Jesus-believers, uncircumcised as they may be, are Sarah-children, new-Jerusalem people, Isaac-people, promise-people.  But, Paul goes on: But things now are like they were then.  The one who was born according to the flesh persecuted the one born according to the spirit.   Genesis doesn't elaborate on what Ishmael did to Isaac, only that he abused him in some way, and Paul's point here is that this is how the children of the flesh are always liable to treat the children of the promise.  It sounds as though the unbelieving Jews were actively persecuting the Christians in Galatia—angry at them because they claimed the “Jewish exemption” from pagan worship, but didn't live as Jews.  But Paul lumps the false teachers, these people who say they believe in Jesus the Messiah, but also insist on the gentiles being circumcised—Paul lumps that in with the abuse of the unbelieving Jewish community.  The false teachers stand in sharp contrast to Paul.  Even though Paul has had some sometimes harsh words for the Galatians, he loves them like a father.  He's speaking gospel truth.  The false teachers, for all their zeal, don't really love the Galatians—not if they're trying to drag them back into slavery under the law.  And with that, Paul's ready to drive his point home, he's ready to tell them what they have to do.  Look at verse 30: But what does scripture say?  “Throw out the slave-girl and her son!  For the son of the slave-girl will not inherit with the son of the free.”  So my brothers [and sisters], we are not children of the slave-girl, but of the free.   Do what Sarah did: cast out the slave girl and her son.  In other words, cast out the false teachers before they drag you away from Jesus and the promise and back into slavery.  At this point there's a chapter break, but I really think Paul meant for verse 1 of Chapter 5 to be the close of this paragraph, because it's not easy to cast out false teachers.  And so Paul continues there: The Messiah set us free so that we could enjoy freedom!  So stand firm, and don't get yourselves tied down by the chains of slavery.   Stand firm and don't let anyone take you back into slavery with a false gospel, because Brothers and Sisters, Jesus has set us free.  Paul doesn't mess around with false teachers.  Jesus died and he rose again, he is Lord, and he has fulfilled all of God's promises.  Paul saw the promise fulfilled as the gentiles were forgiven, filled with the Spirit, and swept up into this great story of God and his people and he was outraged at the idea that anyone might come along and drag these people back into slavery. In contrast, how often is our tendency to be wishy-washing about false teaching.  People come in the name of Jesus, but end up proclaiming false gospels—or things that undermine the gospel.  They'll say, for example, that there are other ways to God and other ways to be good and other ways to enter the age to come and in doing that they undermine the work of Jesus and the Spirit no less than the false teaching in Galatia did by trying to add torah to the gospel.  Others come into the church and tell us that Jesus isn't enough and that we've got to do something extra to receive the Spirit.  Others these days come preaching post-modern ideas of identity that undermine our identity in the Messiah and our unity in him.  And we equivocate on what to do about them.  Instead of dealing with the false teachers we quibble with each other over whether or not the false teachers are truly believers or not—as if we need to treat them differently if the false teaching isn't so bad as to rule them out as real Christians.  Paul does the opposite here.  The false teachers in Galatia believed in Jesus.  They believed in his death and resurrection.  But they added something that ultimately undermined that good news.  And so Paul says to cast them out.  Get them out of the church.  Just as he did with the man sleeping with his step-mother in Corinth.  Get them out.  Maybe that will get them thinking hard about what they've done or what they're teaching and they'll repent and come back, but that's not the first priority.  Get them out, because their teaching undermines the gospel itself and if it's allowed to fester, the church will cease to be the church.  The promise will be lost.  The false teaching will make us slaves again.  If the Anglican Communion had cast out the false teachers a hundred years ago, our generation wouldn't have had to face the difficulties we have.  The church can't fool around with false teachers and false gospel.  But the flip side of this imperative is that we as Jesus' people need to work hard for unity with our brothers and sisters who do believe the good news about Jesus.  This was the vision of Bp. Cummins when he called together the men and women who would found the Reformed Episcopal Church.  All baptised and believing Jesus-followers are, in fact, one family and we need to do our best, despite our various differences on other things, to live as the one family that Jesus has made us.  I think Galatians has something to say about how we distinguish which of our differences are demand separation and which don't.  Does the message being preaching point forward to the age to come, or like the Galatian heresy, does it drag us back to the darkness of the old evil age?  If it undermines or undoes what has been accomplished by God in Jesus and the Spirit, we must cast it out.  Standing firm against false gospels while standing just as firm for the unity of God's gospel people is no easy task—especially as things are today—but Brothers and Sisters it is our calling.  It is what honours God, it is what honours Jesus and the Spirit, and it is what witnesses to the world the new creation that has been born in us. Let's pray: Heavenly Father, make us mature in the Messiah so that we will be able to discern truth from error, and fill us with zeal for your gospel truth, so that we will stand firm—not afraid to cast out false teachers and false teaching, but also zealous for the unity that Jesus and the Spirit bring to your church, that we might be effective witnesses of the good news about Jesus, crucified and risen, and of his kingdom, the new Jerusalem.  Through him we pray.  Amen.

A Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity by Matthew Colvin Matt. 5:20-26 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.      21 "You have heard that it was said to those of old, 'You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.' 22 But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, 'You fool!' will be liable to the hell of fire. 23 So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, 24 leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. 25 Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. 26 Truly, I say to you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny. Have you ever stopped to think just how unusual a sermon is in our day? Where else do you sit for half an hour and listen to someone talk in person, without interruption, applause, or any dialogue? Let alone, actually believe it. You were all kind to me last week as I filled in for Pastor Bill. Well, almost all of you. Luke Galloway wasn't having it. I don't blame him. But it raises the question of why you should believe any of what I say here at all. What authority is at work in a sermon? We mentioned last week that the authority of experts does not challenge us too much: experts put their knowledge at our disposal; they submit it to us for our consideration. It's true that some of what a pastor says might fall under this category: we are supposed to know the Biblical languages and to be trained in explaining the meaning of the Bible. But when I say, “The Greek word means this,” you should take that with a grain of salt unless I also show you how it fits and makes better sense of the Biblical passage. That is, when we preach the Word, we are following St. Paul's example, who urges the Corinthians, “I speak as to reasonable men; judge for yourselves the things I say.” (1 Cor 10:15) Why, then, do we wear robes? Why, in the words of one pastor who does not wear robes, does “someone important get to dress up like Saruman”? Ultimately, that is a symbol that the Reformed Episcopal Church has given the pastor to preach the word with their authority: that the church's bishops have examined a man and found that his doctrine is in conformity with the church's teaching. We are not lone rangers. We take ordination vows, and that means we are not free to teach our own doctrines, but those of the church. We subscribe to the Nicene Creed, which means that we are not free to to start teaching Arianism. We follow the 39 Articles in the back of your BCP, which means that we will not suddenly come into the pulpit and start teaching that you're going to Purgatory, or that you should bow down and worship the bread in Holy Communion. We are men under authority, and ultimately, that means we are under the authority of Jesus. Now what if I showed up on Sunday with my sermon engraved on two tablets? Not two iPads, but two actual tablets of stone. That would be sending a message about the authority of the sermon, wouldn't it, and it would be a very different message than is communicated by robes and stoles and appeals to Greek lexicography. But in our gospel lesson this morning, that, or something equivalent to it, is what Jesus has done: he sits down on a mountain, showing that he is about to fill the role of Moses, who went up on Mt. Sinai to receive the covenant God made with Israel after He brought them out of Egypt. The Sermon on the Mount is Jesus's most comprehensive and public announcement of his teaching about the coming kingdom of God — by which we mean, the coming day when Israel's God would be publicly acknowledged as reigning through the person of his anointed king, the Messiah. It is nothing more or less than the announcement of a new covenant, a new moment in the history of Israel as a people, right up there with the covenant with Abraham, the covenant at Mount Sinai, or the covenant with David. That is Jesus's message throughout his earthly ministry: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.” The climactic moment in Israel's story was about to happen. What is at stake here is what it means to be Israel, to be the people of God. The Pharisees have one way of doing this; Jesus has another. They are not compatible. And Jesus does not mince words: “For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” I often have to remind my high school students that the word “Pharisee” was a self-laudatory epithet: they called themselves the P'rushim, meaning “separated ones.” Separated from what? Well, to understand that, we need to go back to the time between the testaments, when the Greco-Syrian empire under Antiochus IV Epiphanes attempted to melt down Israel and amalgamate it with Greek culture. In order to make the Jews assimilate, Antiochus banned copies of the Torah, prohibited circumcision and sacrifices to the Lord, and compelled the Jews to eat pig meat and profane the Sabbath. In other words, everything that marked the Jews as separate from the Gentiles was targeted by Antiochus's laws. In reaction to this, the Jews rebelled under the leadership of Mattathias Maccabee and his sons, especially Judah Maccabee. With the help of an alliance with Rome, they eventually succeeded in defeating Antiochus and rededicating the Temple in Jerusalem which he had defiled by sacrificing a pig on the altar. And alongside this military victory, the Maccabees also used violent force to pressure Jews to keep the law. It was a really difficult time to be a Jewish mother: if you had your baby boy circumcised, Antiochus's officers would kill you and your baby. If you didn't have your baby boy circumcised, the Maccabees would do it by force. If you refused to sacrifice to Zeus, Antiochus's officers would kill you. If you did sacrifice to Zeus, the Maccabees would kill you. The operative word in the Maccabees' resistance to the Greco-Syrian empire was “zeal.” It did not denote a mere enthusiasm. No, it was a violent upholding of the Torah covenant against those who would annihilate it, against the Jewish renegades who were ready to lose their Jewishness and become part of the Greco-Syrian melting pot. In this, the Maccabees were following an earlier template: In Numbers 25, Balaam had a similar idea, albeit with a different method. After the king of Moab, Balak, hired him to curse Israel, and Balaam couldn't do so because God caused blessings to keep coming out of his mouth instead, Balaam decided that if he couldn't curse Israel, he would lead them into idolatry. And the best way to do that was sex: he got foxy Midianite or Moabite women to seduce the Israelites and lead them to worship Baal of Peor. And we're told that: …Behold, one of the people of Israel came and brought a Midianite woman to his family, in the sight of Moses and in the sight of the whole congregation of the people of Israel, while they were weeping in the entrance of the tent of meeting. 7 When Phinehas the son of Eleazar, son of Aaron the priest, saw it, he rose and left the congregation and took a spear in his hand 8 and went after the man of Israel into the chamber and pierced both of them, the man of Israel and the woman through her belly. Thus the plague on the people of Israel was stopped. 9 Nevertheless, those who died by the plague were twenty-four thousand. (Num. 25:6-9) This is what is meant by “zeal.” We get a couple other instances in the NT. Saul of Tarsus, before he was stricken blind and came to believe in Jesus and became the apostle Paul, was full of zeal: he was “ravaging the church, and entering house after house, he dragged off men and women and committed them to prison.” (Acts 8:3) And again, Saul was “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.” (9:1) This is what zeal looked like: Saul being a good Jew was very concerned that other Jews were being unfaithful to the covenant of Moses, and the way to put a stop to this was to use violence against them, because that is what the Maccabees had done. Indeed, when we find Jesus described as full of zeal, he too is violent: flipping over tables. “Zeal for your house has consumed me.” The Pharisees The Pharisees were the spiritual heirs of the Maccabees. They looked around and saw Israel under the domination of the Romans. And they adopted the Maccabees' recipe for what to do when Gentiles were dominating you: namely, “obey the Torah even harder.” And especially those parts of the Torah that set Jews apart from Gentiles: keeping the Sabbath, observing Kosher food laws, circumcision, sacrifices at the Temple, and following the cleanness laws that were required for entering the Temple — but following them all the time, even when you weren't going to the Temple. These were the religious conservatives. They were the people who took the Bible seriously. They weren't like the Sadducees, working hand in glove with the Romans. The Pharisees believed in the resurrection of the dead. They were looking for the arrival of the Messiah and the coming kingdom of God. All of which makes it all the more remarkable that Jesus says, “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Nowadays, if I were to call someone a Pharisee, it would not be a compliment. Sort of like how the popularity of the name Adolph went downhill after the 1940s. Except in this case, there is just one man who trashed the name “Pharisee” and turned it into an insult forever after: Jesus. We don't have time today to do a thorough survey of everything Jesus said about them, but just consider how effective his techniques were. Tell me the next word: “Woe to you, Scribes and Pharisees, __________.” Or the unforgettable visual images: trying to do eye surgery with a railroad tie sticking out of your own eye socket; fishing around for gnats in your soup while balancing a camel on a spoon; absurdly washing only the outside of a bowl or cup and leaving the inside filthy. You have heard it said To combat the Pharisees' way of being Israel, Jesus sets forth his own teaching. He introduces it with one of the most provocative rhetorical devices: the contradiction. “You have heard it said…but I say to you.” Many people misunderstand this. You have heard it said (!!!) that Jesus is quoting the Torah and then correcting its teaching. But I say to you that in this same chapter, verse 17, Jesus has already disavowed any intention of changing or altering the law and the prophets. His intention is rather to attack the Pharisees and their interpretation. So how does it work? “You have heard it said” — in Judaism, the verb to “hear” (Heb. shama', cf. the Shema' in Deuteronomy 6:4) is closely associated with literal, or overly literal interpretation. Shamu'a and mishma'  are both abstract nouns that mean “literal meaning” as well as “that which is heard.” Likewise, hashshome'a, “he who hears” is often used in the sense of “he who sticks to the superficial, literal meaning of Scripture.” Jesus, then, in introducing his teaching on anger, opposes it to the simplemindedly literal interpretation of the Pharisees: In other words, “You have heard it said, you shall not murder, and you think wrongly that this commandment is just concerned with murder. It is not. It is concerned with the roots and causes of murder; likewise, with the effects and consequences of those causes, other than outright murder.” Or, “You have heard it said, ‘you shall not murder, and only he who murders is liable to the judgment,' but this is a misinterpretation, for many other offences than simple murder are liable to the judgment.” In every case where Jesus introduces some received interpretation of the Law with “You have heard it said”, he immediately juxtaposes, “But I say to you.” Here, Jesus gives his own authoritative exposition of the Torah. Note that he does not appeal to any other authority: There is no, “Rabbi Ela said that Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said that Rabbi Meir used to say…” That's an actual quotation from the Talmud, by the way. The sermon on the mount continues for three chapters, until Matthew 7:29. At at the end, we are told the crowd's reaction: “the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he was teaching them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes.” That is, despite not having been trained by any rabbi, and despite not having authorization as a scribe to propound binding interpretations of the Torah, and without saying “Rabbi X said in the name of Rabbi Y,” Jesus was declaring, “But I say to you…” That is, on his own authority as the Son of God, not the derived authority of his doctoral dissertation supervisor. Jesus constantly warned against the Pharisees. Why? Because they represented a very real danger. It is a danger that is peculiarly powerful for people who love God and take the Bible seriously and feel culturally and morally besieged. We are in a very similar situation, brothers and sisters. You are in the REC. It confesses the Bible to be the inspired word of God; it recites the Creed on a weekly basis; it has bishops, conforming to the polity that characterized the ancient church and the vast majority of church history since then; it stands for orthodoxy and Biblical morality in the face of howling winds of cultural change and creeping sexual perversion and transhumanism, all encouraged by the false eschatology of progress and a false faith in technology. If we are not careful to obey Jesus's teaching, it will be very easy to fall into Pharisaism, and to pray like the Pharisee in Jesus's parable: “I thank you, Lord, that I am not like other men, leftists, weirdos with dyed hair, or those rainbow flag alphabet soup people. I attend church every week and give a tenth of everything I get.” The danger, that is, is to adopt a view of the church as the beleaguered remnant waiting for God to smite its cultural and political enemies, and to focus on performative acts of boundary-marking. In other words, to focus on being pure and separate, in the hopes that God will reward your heightened effort at boundary marking by destroying those on the other side of the boundaries and rewarding you. Jesus's teaches something different from the Maccabees, both about how to be Israel, and about how to relate to those on the other side of the boundaries of the faith. 23 - “If you are offering your gift at the altar” — even if you are in the middle of the most important performance of Israelite piety, the central act that enabled Israel's God to dwell with His people. This is a shocking inversion of how the Pharisees thought things worked: for them, if you declared some money “qorban”, then you were excused from supporting your aged parents with it; for them, if an apparently dead body were on the side of the road, a priest or Levite on his way to the temple would be fully justified in avoiding it in order to remain in a state of cultic purity so that he could do his work in the temple. The laws of purity and religion were thus exalted over the duties toward neighbours and other human beings. Jesus has the OT on his side on this point: the opening of Isaiah rebukes the Israelites for their chutzpah in offering sacrifices and celebrating new moon feasts and other religious observances while perpetrating the worst sorts of social injustice: “Bring no more vain offerings; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and Sabbath and the calling of convocations— I cannot endure iniquity and solemn assembly. 14 Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hates; they have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them. 15 When you spread out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood…Everyone loves a bribe and runs after gifts. They do not bring justice to the fatherless, and the widow's cause does not come to them.” The idea that you can please God by meeting the external requirements, while simultaneously engaged in the worst sorts of injustice toward your fellow men is formalism. Think of a mafia boss who orders a hit on his enemies or pulls out a tommy gun and mows down sixteen rival mobsters on Saturday; the following morning, he shows up at Mass, dips his fingers in holy water, makes the sign of the cross, receives a wafer on his tongue and a blessing from the priest. Mobsters trust in formalism. God is not fooled. It was easy for faithful and believing Jews in Jesus's day to fall into hating the Romans. They were polytheist Gentiles, sexually immoral, and overweening in their obnoxiousness toward the Jews. Jesus mentions “Those Galileans whose blood Pilate mingled with their sacrifices.” The Romans had installed the wicked Idumean dynasty of the Herodians as rulers over Israel. Roman soldiers had the right to Shanghai any Jew and force him to carry his heavy soldier's pack for a mile. Against all this, Jesus tells his disciples to “put away your sword” and to “turn the other cheek” and “go two miles”. In the face of the power and authority of the Roman governor, he answers Pilate not a word. He does not compete on the Romans' level. He knows that their empire will be His whenever He wants. “Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?” The Sermon on the Mount teaches a different way of being the people of God: not the Pharisees' way of exaggerated purity, social pressure, and violent insurrection. It is a way that manifests itself in a totally different attitude toward the Gentiles: one of compassion, not hatred. Not endorsement of the Gentiles' sins or their idolatry or their sexual immorality or infanticide. But a willingness to lay down His life also for them. A crucified Messiah implies a crucified Israel. That, in fact, is what we are called to be: Israel for the sake of the world. And that is what we find in our Epistle lesson this morning, as St. Paul urges in Romans 6:  Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4 We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.      5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. 6 We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. Followers of the crucified Messiah are to be Israel for the sake of the world. Accordingly, we are to pray for the world — which we are about to do now.

Fr Calvin Robinson has boldly challenged woke trends in church and society. He is an Anglican Deacon in the GAFCON affiliated Free Church of England, otherwise called the Reformed Episcopal Church in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (REC), and currently serves Christ Church Harlesden. I was encouraged by his testimony and the fierce way he proclaims the ‘faith once for all delivered to the saints.' Youtube - https://youtu.be/8pFBmVdKAOwAudio - https://andymilleriii.com/media/podcastApple -  https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/more-to-the-story-with-dr-andy-miller/id1569988895?uo=4You can find out more about Calvin here. Plus, check out the video course on Heaven that I recently released: courses.andymilleriii.com/p/heavenAnd don't forget about my new book Contender, which is available on Amazon! Five Steps to Deeper Teaching and Preaching - Recently, I updated this PDF document and added a 45-minute teaching video with slides, explaining this tool. It's like a mini-course. If you sign up for my list, I will send this free resource to you. Sign up here - www.AndyMillerIII.com or Five Steps to Deeper Teaching and Preaching. Today's episode is brought to you by these two sponsors: Keith Waters and his team at WPO Development do an amazing job helping non-profits and churches through mission planning studies, strategic plans, feasibility studies, and capital campaigns. We are honored to have Keith and WPO on the More to the Story team. You can find out more about them at www.wpodevelopment.com or touch base directly with Keith at Keith.Waters@wpodevelopment.com.ANDWesley Biblical Seminary - Interested in going deeper in your faith? Check out our certificate programs, B.A., M.A.s, M.Div., and D.Min degrees. You will study with world-class faculty and the most racially diverse student body in the country. www.wbs.eduThanks too to Phil Laeger for my podcast music. You can find out about Phil's music at https://www.laeger.net

My guest this episode is Johnny Simmons. He's a Rock & Roll Anglican from Houston TX. He's a drummer for The Rikkis, and also the Music Director at Church of the Holy Trinity, which is a parish in the Reformed Episcopal Church. Johnny Simmons ⚓️

A lecture with Q&A entitled "Acts 6 and the Myth of Apostolic Succession" by Rev. Dr. Matt Colvin. Acts 6 depicts the ordination of the seven to minister to the Greek-speaking widows of the Jerusalem church. It has often been thought to depict the first instance of apostolic succession and the first deacons. As such, it has become a key text over the centuries in heated discussions over church government. In this lecture, Matthew Colvin argues that it does not; that the apostles did not ordain anyone, and nor do they ever do so in the New Testament. The argument will be made on four fronts from Rabbinic Jewish sources: halakhah, typology, grammar, and textual criticism. Attendees will learn what the laying on of hands really does, who exactly laid hands on Timothy, and what polity and officers the New Testament actually depicts. Rev. Dr. Matthew Colvin is a presbyter in the Reformed Episcopal Church. From 2012-2017, he served as a missionary teaching ministerial students in the Philippines and Indonesia. He holds a PhD in ancient Greek literature from Cornell University (2004). His published works include articles on Heraclitus (Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 2005 and The Classical Quarterly 2006), a translation from Latin of the 1550 Magdeburg Confession (2011), and The Lost Supper: A Study of the Passover and Eucharistic origins (Fortress Academic, 2019). He is currently working on a book on women's ordination and the origins of ordained office in the early church. He lives on Vancouver Island.

Team Making It Grow traveled to Charleston recently to the small garden behind St. John's Reformed Episcopal Church. During a Spoleto outreach project many years ago, this garden showcasing two of national artists' unique skills was installed. A master of iron work design and craftsmanship, Phillip Simmons, created unique and appropriate gates and wall openings. Topiary artist Pearl Fryar designed a small but exquisite example of his unique artistry. A committee of the Garden Club of Charleston has been tending this garden but recently took lessons in Fryar's techniques from Mike Gibson to learn some of the specific techniques. The McKissick Museum at U S C got a grant to hire Mike Gibson, a self-described property artist, to work and learn from Fryar in his Bishopville garden, as that world-renowned topiary artist is aging and limited in his activities.

Saint Athanasius ChurchContra Mundum SwaggerVideo Version

Today we bring you a message titled, “The Lord’s Message At His Coming,” that former MBI President William Culbertson presented at the Illinois Prophecy Conference of 1971. William Culbertson III was a pastor, bishop of the Reformed Episcopal Church and the fifth president of the Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, IL from 1946 to 1971. 

​This week we bring you five prophetic messages former MBI President William Culbertson presented at the Illinois Prophecy Conference and Winona Lake Bible Conference of 1971. William Culbertson III was a pastor, bishop of the Reformed Episcopal Church and the fifth president of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, IL from 1946 to 1971. 

​This week we bring you five prophetic messages former MBI President William Culbertson presented at the Illinois Prophecy Conference and Winona Lake Bible Conference of 1971. William Culbertson III was a pastor, bishop of the Reformed Episcopal Church and the fifth president of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, IL from 1946 to 1971. 

​This week we bring you five prophetic messages former MBI President William Culbertson presented at the Illinois Prophecy Conference and Winona Lake Bible Conference of 1971. William Culbertson III was a pastor, bishop of the Reformed Episcopal Church and the fifth president of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, IL from 1946 to 1971. 

​This week we bring you five prophetic messages former MBI President William Culbertson presented at the Illinois Prophecy Conference and Winona Lake Bible Conference of 1971. William Culbertson III was a pastor, bishop of the Reformed Episcopal Church and the fifth president of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, IL from 1946 to 1971. 

​This week we bring you five prophetic messages former MBI President William Culbertson presented at the Illinois Prophecy Conference and Winona Lake Bible Conference of 1971. William Culbertson III was a pastor, bishop of the Reformed Episcopal Church and the fifth president of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, IL from 1946 to 1971. 

An Altar of Acacia WoodExodus 27:1-21 & 38:1-20by William Klock We’ve taken a break from our study of Exodus since March since it seemed appropriate to take some encouragement from Scripture in the midst of a difficult time, but this morning we’ll be picking up where we left off in Exodus, at Chapter 27.  We were in the middle of the bit of Exodus—actually a fairly large “bit”—that describes the instructions for and the building of the tabernacle.  As I said earlier this year, while there are a lot of people who see the giving of the torah, the law, as the high point of Exodus, I’m convinced that the high point is actually the tabernacle.  Exodus is about the Lord creating a people for himself—that’s the “You will be my people and I will be your God” covenant—and the Lord then taking up his residence in the midst of that people, God returning to dwell with human beings.  God created human beings to live in his presence and to rule his creation as stewards.  That’s what the garden was about in Genesis.  In the garden humans shared in the life of God.  But we rebelled.  Because of our sin, we were case out, no longer able to live in the presence of the holy.  We lost our access to the life of God and became subject not only to our broken and sinful wills, but to death.  And, apart from the Lord, humanity eventually lost all knowledge of him.  This is the main message of the Tower of Babel story.  And yet the very next thing we read in the narrative is the calling of Abraham.  In Abraham, God spoke into the darkness of the world and summoned a man from whom he would establish a people—a people amongst whom he would dwell, but also a people through whom the human race would once again know our Creator—and not only know, but eventually be reconciled with him.  This is why I say that the tabernacle is the high point of Exodus.  This is what God’s been working towards since calling Abraham: creating a people in whose midst he would dwell.  The torah was given to set the people apart from the rest of humanity.  The sacrificial system was to give them a means of approach.  The tabernacle, though, was the heart of it: the place in which the Lord would be present at the heart of the Israelite camp and, later, at the heart of their life in the promised land.And so, last time back in March, we read about the instructions (and how those instructions were followed) for this beautiful tent.  It wasn’t big by modern standards.  It was about as long as our church, about as wide as the centre portion of pews and aisles, and about as high as the tie rods that cross our ceiling.  It wasn’t big, but it was beautifully made, not only fit for the presence of the Lord, but full of imagery that both hearkened back to the garden and that reminded the people of the holiness of God.  And this tent was to be setup in the middle of the Israelite camp.  There the Lord’s presence rested on the mercy seat, on the ark of the covenant, and around this great tent the Lord’s people went about their lives according to the covenant he’d established with them.  And as I said last time, the tabernacle wasn’t a church.  Only the priests were allowed inside—and only the high priest once a year into the most holy place where the Lord’s presence was manifest.  But there was a greater complex to the tabernacle, a complex where the people brought their offerings that they might remain in right relationship, might maintain the covenant with the Lord.  And that’s what we get to today.  Chapters 27 and 38 are mainly about the courtyard surrounding the tabernacle and, more importantly, about the altar that stood in its centre, outside the tabernacle.  We’ll focus on Chapter 27 where the instructions are given, but if we turn over to Chapter 38:1-20 we see the report that these instructions were followed out, the court and the altar made, and the writer of Exodus makes the point by repeating the language of the instructions almost verbatim, highlighting the faithfulness of the people to the Lord’s instructions.Let’s start in the middle of Chapter 27, with the tabernacle courtyard, then we’ll work our way back to the altar.  Look at verses 9-19:“You shall make the court of the tabernacle. On the south side the court shall have hangings of fine twined linen a hundred cubits long for one side.  Its twenty pillars and their twenty bases shall be of bronze, but the hooks of the pillars and their fillets shall be of silver.  And likewise for its length on the north side there shall be hangings a hundred cubits long, its pillars twenty and their bases twenty, of bronze, but the hooks of the pillars and their fillets shall be of silver.  And for the breadth of the court on the west side there shall be hangings for fifty cubits, with ten pillars and ten bases.  The breadth of the court on the front to the east shall be fifty cubits.  The hangings for the one side of the gate shall be fifteen cubits, with their three pillars and three bases.  On the other side the hangings shall be fifteen cubits, with their three pillars and three bases.  For the gate of the court there shall be a screen twenty cubits long, of blue and purple and scarlet yarns and fine twined linen, embroidered with needlework. It shall have four pillars and with them four bases.  All the pillars around the court shall be filleted with silver. Their hooks shall be of silver, and their bases of bronze.  The length of the court shall be a hundred cubits, the breadth fifty, and the height five cubits, with hangings of fine twined linen and bases of bronze.  All the utensils of the tabernacle for every use, and all its pegs and all the pegs of the court, shall be of bronze. What’s being described here is the public area surrounding the tabernacle.  Well, public in the sense that the covenant people, marked out by circumcision were permitted.  Gentiles and anyone who was ceremonially unclean were unable to enter.  What’s described here is the heavy linen fence that will surround the tabernacle itself.  It’s to be one hundred cubits long and fifty wide or about 50 metres by 25 metres.  The fine twined linen is the same as that used for the tabernacle and the veil, although this apparently wasn’t dyed and wasn’t embroidered with angels.  The hardware is similar to that of the tabernacle, but whereas the hardware in the tabernacle was of gold and silver, this is of silver and bronze.  The metals become more precious the closer we get to the presence of the Lord.  The tabernacle was to be situated in the back half of the court with its entrance at the court’s centreline.  Opposite the entrance to the tabernacle was the entrance to the court, curtains of blue, purple, and scarlet suspended from four pillars, similar to the entrance to the tabernacle.Again, the tabernacle was designed to remind people that they were entering the presence of the holy.  From the colourful gate made of expensive yarns and linens with bronze and silver hardware to the tabernacle itself and its embroidered angels and its gold and silver. Now, aside from the tabernacle itself, the most prominent feature of the court was the altar.  This is described in verses 1-8:“You shall make the altar of acacia wood, five cubits long and five cubits broad. The altar shall be square, and its height shall be three cubits. Five cubits is about 7 ½ feet.  For reference our centre pews are just a bit longer than that.  So the altar is 7 ½ feet square and about 4 ½ feet high. And you shall make horns for it on its four corners; its horns shall be of one piece with it, and you shall overlay it with bronze It’s not clear exactly what the horns are.  Horns were common on both pagan and Israelite altars.  In other cultures they were symbols of strength and fertility.  We don’t know if they were on this altar for that reason or not.  In Exodus 29:2 and in Leviticus 4:7 we read that blood from the sacrifices was daubed on the horns.  Again, Scripture never tells us explicitly why, so any answer we may come up with is going to be speculative.  Similarly, we’re read, for example in First Kings, that running to the tabernacle and clinging to the horns of the altar was a way of seeking refuge in God’s presence.  It may be that the horns were a symbol of the Lord’s strength.  To take hold of them was to dedicate oneself to the Lord, which meant anyone else lost whatever claim they might have on you.  The horns also served a practical purpose for the binding of the sacrifices.  Psalm 118:27 describes this:The Lord is God,         and he has made his light to shine upon us.Bind the festal sacrifice with cords,         up to the horns of the altar! Animals tend to run away when they sense a threat, so the sacrifices were—at least sometimes—tied to the horns of the altar to secure them in place before they were slaughtered.  And it’s hard to pass this by without thinking about St. Paul’s exhortation to present ourselves as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God.  It’s not easy to die to ourselves and to live for God.  Those animals tied to the horns of the altar had no choice in the matter.  They were dumb brutes.  They had to be tied down lest they run away.  But Brothers and Sisters, we’re called to offer up ourselves to the Lord in light of what he has done for us.  Rather than being bound with ropes, we are bound to the altar by the love of Jesus who gave himself as a sacrifice for sin.  We’re tempted every day to climb down from the altar and to run away, to live for ourselves, and so we need to remind ourselves each day of the love that God has poured out on us in Jesus—a love to which the only response is utter devotion of ourselves. Now, verses 3-8 give the rest of the details:You shall make pots for it to receive its ashes, and shovels and basins and forks and fire pans. You shall make all its utensils of bronze.  You shall also make for it a grating, a network of bronze, and on the net you shall make four bronze rings at its four corners.  And you shall set it under the ledge of the altar so that the net extends halfway down the altar.  And you shall make poles for the altar, poles of acacia wood, and overlay them with bronze.  And the poles shall be put through the rings, so that the poles are on the two sides of the altar when it is carried.  You shall make it hollow, with boards. As it has been shown you on the mountain, so shall it be made. Everything about the altar is bronze: the horns, the utensils, the rings, the poles, the grate.  The grate is difficult to picture.  These descriptions, for all their technicalities, don’t give the information needed to actually construct any of these things.  The descriptions give us lot of details about dimensions and materials, but not a lot more.  Some commentators think that the stone tablets likely contained actual drawings of the tabernacle and its furnishings.  Some understand the grate to surround the altar, but most seem to think that it was the surface on which the sacrifices were actually burnt, allowing air to flow to the flames from below and for ashes to drop through from above.Interestingly, the altar is said to be hollow and made of acacia boards covered with bronze.  Just based on the description, it doesn’t sound like something that would survive the fire needed for one sacrifice, let alone many.  I’m inclined to agree with the commentators who believe that the hollow altar was filled with dirt or stones when it wasn’t being transported.  This would have provided a fireproof base for the sacrifices and could be emptied when the altar was carried.[1]  And, of course, that’s what the poles were for: carrying the altar when the Lord directed the camp to move to a new location.It’s telling that even when the altar wasn’t being transported, the poles stayed in place, just as with the ark of the covenant.  Everything about the tabernacle was portable and the people were reminded of that.  Eventually the tabernacle would be set up in a permanent spot in the promised land—and later replaced by a permanent temple—but the Lord condescended to travel with his people as they made their way there.  He didn’t rescue them from Egypt, point them in the direction of the Holy Land, and say, “I’ll meet you there.”  He remained with them in the journey through the wilderness.  He guarded and guided them.  They were his people and he was their God.  It’s a reminder that we belong to this same God as we travel through our own wilderness.  He has not left us.  As Jesus promised when he ascended, he has given, he has indwelt us by his own Spirit.But the altar itself: It was the first thing the Israelites saw when they entered the court.  The tabernacle rose behind it, but from their perspective, the tabernacle dominated the court.  Its sights and sounds and smells dominated the Israelite camp—a constant reminder.  All day long, day in and day out, the priests offered sacrifices on the altar.  Even on the outside of those linen curtains, unable to see the altar itself, the Israelites throughout the camp heard the sounds of the animals being led to the slaughter, tied to the horns.  The smell of those burnt offerings would have dominated the camp.  And rising from the court, there would have been a nearly perpetual pillar of smoke.The Israelites in the wilderness saw the visible presence of God in the cloud or in the fire when the people were on the move, but when they stopped and set up the tabernacle, the Lord’s presence descended to the most holy place.  No one could see the cloud of glory.  Again, that first generation in the wilderness had seen it, but once the Israelites were established in the promised land, the tabernacle itself and sights, sounds, and smells of the altar served to remind the people that the Lord was present.  The altar and the sacrifices, in particular, also reminded the people that to remain in his presence required sacrifice.  The altar was a reminder of the seriousness of sin.  The writer of Hebrews says, “Under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Hebrews 9:22).  Adam and Eve were cast from the garden because of their sin.  In the tabernacle, the Lord returned to dwell with human beings, but human sin still had to be dealt with.  Only blood covers sin.  Only by blood can sinners remain in the presence of the Lord.  As the altar ingrained this principle in the people it prepared them for Jesus.  If we continue on in the book of Hebrews this is what we read in 13:10-16:We have an altar from which those who serve the tent have no right to eat.  For the bodies of those animals whose blood is brought into the holy places by the high priest as a sacrifice for sin are burned outside the camp.  So Jesus also suffered outside the gate in order to sanctify the people through his own blood.  Therefore let us go to him outside the camp and bear the reproach he endured.  For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.  Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name.  Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God. You see, Jesus did something new.  He established something new.  In the First Century church there were Jews who continued to offer those sacrifices of the old covenant and some insisted that gentile converts needed to join them in those sacrifices.  But Jesus has done something that superseded those old sacrifices and the whole of the old covenant—even the idea of the holy or sacred ground of the old covenant.  Jesus offered his blood as a sacrifice for sins, but as the writer here points out, he offered himself up, not in the sacred confines of the temple, not on the sacred altar where atonement for sins was supposed to be made, but outside the camp—in the place that would have rendered the priests of the old covenant unclean.  For the writer of Hebrews, this highlights the fact that what Jesus did at the cross has established something new and better, something that renders the old obsolete.  Our liturgy sums it up this way:“All glory to you, our heavenly Father, for in your tender mercy you gave your only Son Jesus Christ to suffer death on the cross for our redemption; who made there, by his one oblation of himself once offered, a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice for the sins of the whole world.”Jesus has accomplished once and for all and for everyone what those old sacrifices could do only temporarily for the person who offered the sacrifice.  In that, Jesus has become not just the sacrifice, but also the priest and the altar.  This is why the Christian priest is not the same thing as the priests of the Old Testament.  The Christian priest is “presybter”—the Greek word for “elder”.  The role of the Old Testament priest, one who offered sacrifices and stood as a mediator between human beings and God, that role has been taken on by Jesus, who shares it with every believer. This is also why Christians have no altar.  We have the Lord’s Table.  Here he invites us to share in this meal in which we recall and participate in the events of Jesus death and resurrection, but the only sacrifice we offer here is ourselves.  We recall the love of God poured out in Jesus as the cross and in response we bind ourselves to the altar, dying to self, and offering ourselves as living sacrifices to the God of loving mercy and grace.These were important aspects of our faith that were reasserted by the Protestant Reformers.  At the time of the Reformation, Archbishop Cranmer, for example, ordered that the medieval altars be moved into the choirs or naves of the churches so that the communicants could gather around them, a reminder that the Lord’s Supper is a banquet, not sacrifice.  Our Declaration of Principles, the “constitution” of the Reformed Episcopal Church reiterates both of these points about priests and the Lord’s Supper, adding clarity to the Article of Religion.  We read there that “This Church condemns and rejects the following erroneous and strange doctrines as contrary to God’s Word…That Christian Ministers are ‘priests’ in another sense than that in which all believers are a ‘royal priesthood:’ [and]…That the Lord’s Table is an altar on which the oblation of the Body and Blood of Christ is offered anew to the Father.”Brothers and Sisters, the cross was the altar.  Here the Lord invites to his Table to share in the meal that commemorates that sacrifice, a meal like the Passover, in which each new generation participates in those events and claims them as our own.  This is the meal in which the Lord reminds us once again, “I will be your God and you will be my people”.Now, there’s one last thing in Chapter 27 that we’ll end on.  Look at verses 20-21:“You shall command the people of Israel that they bring to you pure beaten olive oil for the light, that a lamp may regularly be set up to burn.  In the tent of meeting, outside the veil that is before the testimony, Aaron and his sons shall tend it from evening to morning before the Lord. It shall be a statute forever to be observed throughout their generations by the people of Israel. We read the instructions for the lampstand a couple of chapters back.  It’s not clear why the instructions for the oil are here and they seem to look forward to the time when Israel would be in the promised land.  Where they would find olive oil in the wilderness is a bit of a mystery.  Nevertheless, the people provided oil for the lampstand, which was to burn perpetually.  One of the jobs of the priests was to keep it full of oil and to trim the wicks.  The lampstand was symbolic of the Lord’s presence with his people.  But here’s the thing: Only the priests would ever see it.  It was in the holy place, inside the tabernacle, out of view. And, again, we see that in Jesus something new has happened.  In the Incarnation God has taken on our flesh and come to dwell—to tabernacle—in our midst.  In Jesus, John writes, the light has come into the world and the darkness has not overcome it.  And yet, even we look forward to a better day.  The tabernacle reminded the people of the old covenant of the garden and of their lost fellowship with the Lord—a fellowship still obviously broken as the altar made clear.  And even though you and I live in this new covenant, we too are making our way through the wilderness.  We see the brokenness of the world around us and as glorious as the Incarnation and the gift of the Spirit are to us, they also reminds us that both humanity and the world were meant for something still better.  We live in hope of the day when all creation will be set to rights.  And I think, when John described that new creation, he had in mind the lamp in the tabernacle.  That lamp symbolized the presence of the Lord, but it was hidden away.  Only the priests could see it.  But in his vision of creation set to rights, in his vision of heaven and earth rejoined, John writes, “night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever” (Revelation 22:5).  Brothers and Sisters, God with us.  That’s been the end to which the story has pointed and given hope ever since humanity was cast out of his presence.  Come to the Table this morning as Jesus reminds us that, by his death and resurrection, he has made us his people and that at his people we live in hope of that day when all will be set to rights and we will need neither sun nor lamp, because we will once again be living in the presence of God.Let’s pray: Heavenly Father, we thank you for your word and for the assurance we find there.  You love your people and even though we have rebelled against you, you have not given up on us.  You desire for us to be in your presence.  As we look to Jesus and the cross, remind us of your love for us and strengthen our love for you that we might, each day, offer ourselves to you as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable.  Through Jesus we ask this.  Amen.[1] See Robert D. Haak, “Altar” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary and Umberto Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Exodus (Skokie, Ill.: Varda Books, 2005), 362.

Always With Christ is pleased to present a series of meditations on the Seven Last Words of Christ, which He spoke forth from His Cross. Each of these meditations is given by one of the clergymen of the parishes in Virginia of the Diocese Central States of the Reformed Episcopal Church. Meditation 1: "Father Forgive Them," Fr. Bart Gingerich, Rector, St. Jude's, Richmond Meditation 2: "Today, You Will Be With Me," Dcn. Bill Barto, Holy Trinity, Fairfax Meditation 3: "Woman, Behold Your Son," Fr. Damien Grout, Rector, St. Andrew's, Appomattox Meditation 4: "My God, my God, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me," Dr. Eric Parker, Rector, St. Paul's, Lexington Meditation 5: "I Thirst," Fr. Josiah Jones, Rector, Holy Trinity, Fairfax Meditation 6: "It is Finished," Fr. Davidson Morse, Rector, All Saints, Lynchburg Meditation 7: "Father, Into Thy Hand I Commend My Spirit," Ven. Scott Thompson, Archdeacon, Diocese Central States The Music is Johannes Brahms, "A German Requiem, to Words of the Holy Scriptures," as recorded by the university of Chicago Orchestra. Used with permission. https://musopen.org/music/43152-a-german-requiem-op-45/

Podcast: This week's podcast features: This week on the show on the show we feature a pre-recorded conversation with The Very Rev. Donald P. Richmond, Doctor of Divinity, a Priest-Oblate with the Reformed Episcopal Church and Order of Saint Benedict. He is a graduate of several colleges and seminaries as well as the Robert E. Webber Institute for Worship Studies and the Maryvale Ecclesiastical Institute. Having trained in Byzantine Iconography, Father Richmond has a keen interest in the intersection of Theology & Liturgical Arts. Author of chapbooks and over 500 published articles, poetry and art in a wide array of respected periodicals and journals, Father Richmond has published extensively on the Ancient Future Faith Network under either "The Abbey" or "The Inner Monk" and at seedbed.com.  More information about Rev. Richmond's work can be found at: Rev. Donald Richmond on the SARTS website: www.societyarts.org Rev. Donald Richmond on the Ancient Future Faith Network: www.ancientfuturefaithnetwork.org Rev. Donald Richmond on Seedbed: www.seedbed.com

I love that beautiful gospel song, something that you often sing right before communion. So if you know it, sing it with me today. Let us break bread together on our knees Let us break bread together on our knees When I fall down on my knees With my face to the rising sun Oh, Lord, have mercy on me. I love this old hymn, especially the part when we sing “On our knees.” I grew up in a Reformed Episcopal Church, a solid little evangelical congregation and we took the Lord's Supper up front kneeling at the Communion railing. When our knees are actually bowed, it should be a physical symbol of a spiritual reality. It’s a sign of humility. And that’s why I so love this poem. It’s credited to Carol Wimmer, but whoever wrote it sure knows something about humility, especially as it concerns our life in Christ. She writes, “When I say, ‘I am a Christian,’ I'm not shouting ‘I'm clean livin.’ I'm whispering, ‘I was lost, now I'm found and forgiven.’ When I say ‘I am a Christian,’ I don’t speak of this with pride. I'm confessing that I stumble and I need Christ to be my guide. “When I say ‘I am a Christian,’ I'm not trying to be strong. I'm professing that I'm weak and I need His strength to carry on. When I say ‘I am a Christian,’ I'm not bragging of success. I'm admitting I have failed and I need God to clean my mess. When I say ‘I am a Christian,’ I'm not claiming to be perfect. My flaws are far too visible but God believes I am worth it. When I say ‘I am a Christian,’ I still feel the sting of pain. I have my share of heartaches, so I call upon His name. When I say ‘I am a Christian,’ I'm not holier than thou; I'm just a simple sinner who received God's good grace, somehow!” Don’t you love the spirit of humility in that beautiful poem? Because it accurately reflects the way our hearts, the way our knees should bow before the Lord Jesus when we break bread together. When we come to the Lord's table, we divest ourselves of all our strength and pride, all our abilities and resources and we admit: Oh, God we are nothing; without Jesus, we can’t do anything, we are nothing! It’s the best position to be in to receive the abundant grace God gives so graciously, so abundantly, at the communion table where it is a means of grace. So friend, whether you’re breaking bread, or fellowshipping with friends, reading the Word, praying with someone, or going before the Lord Jesus on your own, find a moment today (it might be different for you) to fall down on your knees, would you? At least figuratively. I'm in a wheelchair, I can no longer drop to my knees literally, but I do so figuratively; and if you have arthritis or bad legs, you may not be able to kneel before the Lord either, but we can bow our hearts; we can make our souls drop to their knees to reflect submission, to show humility before our Savior. And hey, it doesn’t have to be communion; it’s the way to break bread with the Lord Jesus every day!

What an awesome joint service with our neighbors at St. John’s Reformed Episcopal Church! Our congregations joined this past Sunday, April 29 for our third joint service. Rev. Willie Hill from St. John’s preached from Matthew 9:1-8, and our choirs combined to sing some amazing hymns.

What an awesome joint service with our neighbors at St. John’s Reformed Episcopal Church! Our congregations joined this past Sunday, April 29 for our third joint service. Rev. Willie Hill from St. John’s preached from Matthew 9:1-8, and our choirs combined to sing some amazing hymns.

Join us this Sunday, January 29 at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Charleston, SC, when we’ll host St. John’s Reformed Episcopal Church, our neighbors just a few blocks away on Anson Street, for a big joint worship service here at Redeemer at our usual time of 10:30 am. Our choirs are planning some special music together for the service; Rev. Willie Hill will preach, and our senior pastor Craig Bailey will lead the worship. So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. Galatians 3:26-28 Afterwards we’ll enjoy light refreshments and coffee at a small reception on the grounds as we get to know our neighbors. Join us for worship–across cultures, races, and denominations!

Join us this Sunday, January 29 at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Charleston, SC, when we’ll host St. John’s Reformed Episcopal Church, our neighbors just a few blocks away on Anson Street, for a big joint worship service here at Redeemer at our usual time of 10:30 am. Our choirs are planning some special music together for the service; Rev. Willie Hill will preach, and our senior pastor Craig Bailey will lead the worship. So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. Galatians 3:26-28 Afterwards we’ll enjoy light refreshments and coffee at a small reception on the grounds as we get to know our neighbors. Join us for worship–across cultures, races, and denominations!

>> Listen Now In episode seven we look at a story of a mass conversion through the eyes of one of the participants.  Michael Coleman was raised in charismatic Protestantism, but when he joined a Reformed Episcopal Church after college he found a group of like minded seekers of the early church and a multi-year […]

We welcome to the broadcast Dr. James E. Adams, author of the book Decisional Regeneration vs. Divine Regeneration. Dr. Adams is Pastor of Cornerstone Church in Mesa, AZ, and holds theological degrees from the Theological Seminary of the Reformed Episcopal Church and Westminster Theological Seminary in California. Dr. Adams has served as a missionary in Latin America and has taught theology there and in the United States. Dr. Adams is also the author of War Psalms of the Prince of Peace, and also serves as a trustee of the denDulk Foundation.