Christ in...
A sermon for Sunday, March 15, 2020
Would you pray with me?
I arise today through
God's strength to pilot me, God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me, God's eye to see before me,
God's ear to hear me, God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me, God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me, God's host to secure me –
against snares of devils,
against temptations and vices,
against inclinations of nature,
against everyone who shall wish me
ill, afar and anear,
alone and in a crowd...
Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit,
Christ where I arise, Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me.
Salvation is of the Lord.
Salvation is of the Lord.
Salvation is of the Christ.
May your salvation, O Lord, be ever with us.
Amen.
God’s host to secure me alone and in a crowd.
We can all relate to that today, can’t we. We have learned a suspicion of crowds and the blessedness of being alone as COVID-19, the sickness caused by this new coronavirus, has begun to infect us here in the United States. We’ve watched as schools, universities, the NBA, the ACC, the NCAA, and the MLB, among many others, have cancelled gatherings. God secure us alone until it’s safe to be out in crowds again.
Don’t get me wrong. I firmly believe that one of the ways that God has secured us in this world is by giving us the ability to reason and investigate things and that God has graced some people in this world with the vocation of gaining knowledge and wisdom that keeps the rest of us as healthy as possible, and I believe that there is good guidance out there for keeping ourselves and, equally importantly, those around us, healthy. For those of you on the livestream, you’re doing the right thing for yourself and for others around you, and you shouldn’t doubt that. We are all loving ourselves and our neighbors right now by limiting the chance for this virus to spread.
Still, I think we all long for God’s protection and, a couple of weeks from now, we’ll all be longing for a crowd, and the vibrancy of gathering together in community. Sometimes I think that “love your neighbor” is the most difficult thing Jesus could have asked us to do, because love looks so different in different circumstances.
And yet, as we’ve been reminded this week, we can still listen to music and read and sing and laugh and hope for better days, and those things are God-given gifts too. We can step outside, as we’re able. We can call and connect with friends and family. There is a gracious abundance of ways that we can be with one another and with the joyful beauty of creation just waking up from winter, no matter the quarantine. We might be exposing ourselves to allergies, but that’s another story. There hasn’t been a run on Mucinex yet.
I think it’s a gift of God that we’re focusing on St. Patrick’s Breastplate this morning, a few days before his feastday, even though there won’t be many parades this year. All of us, I think, could use the protection of God in the days ahead, both within us and without us.
I first really encountered this prayer when the youth choir from my home church, Crossflame, went on tour in 2018. I heard some of the teenagers who I have known since they were in elementary school sing concert after concert, declaring love to anyone who would listen and drawing the circle of care wider and wider with each song. But the heart of each concert for me was The Deer’s Cry, which is another name for this prayer. A beloved child of God who I had watched grow from an energetic but nosy fifth-grader to a beautiful but still nosy high school junior, was the soloist for this song and she would stand and sing this beautiful melody:
“I arise today, through God’s strength to pilot me, God’s eye to look before me, God’s wisdom to guide me, God’s way to lie before me, God’s shield to protect me.”
And the choir would swell around her and sing and make a joyful, glorious noise. I remember sitting in an old, old church in Massachusetts, windows wide open in June, no air conditioning, one poor teenager with her head in my lap as she drank water and recovered from the heat, sitting and listening to these teenagers filling this space with beauty. They would soar together in harmony verse after verse and then fade to the background when the soloist sang,
“Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me.
“I arise today.”
God, I wanted so badly to be the kind of person this song sang about.
I wanted so badly to be the kind of person who lived in such a way that Christ would be in the heart of everyone who thought of me, in the mouth of everyone who spoke of me. I wanted to arise daily, daily, firm in the knowledge that Christ had so fully filled my being that the world would be radiant with the love of Christ that dwelled in me. This poem, this song, this prayer named for me what the fullness of my life would be.
Christ before me.
Christ behind me.
Christ in me.
Christ beneath me.
Christ above me,
Christ on my right.
Christ on my left.
Christ where I lie.
Christ where I sit.
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me.
Christ in every eye that sees me.
Christ in every ear that hears me.
Oh God, I pray that those who encounter me would always see Christ before, behind, above, below, within, and around me.
But that prayer takes a little bit of unpacking, doesn’t it. It’s beautiful and powerful, but what does it actually mean for us to live in such a way that Christ surrounds us and is obvious in us?
Well, I would suggest that we think back to Epiphany to answer that question. For those who haven’t joined us before, we followed the lectionary passages in the gospel of John for Lent during our epiphany season. So let’s think back to Nicodemus, poor Nicodemus, the first one to hear, “For God so loved the world that God gave God’s only begotten Son so that whoever believes in him may not perish but have life eternal,” Nicodemus who was fascinated by Jesus but struggled to jump in with both feet.
Let’s think back to the woman at the well, St. Photina to our Eastern Orthodox siblings, who heard Jesus and could not believe what she heard and yet ran to tell the village about this man who knew everything about her and loved her anyway. Her whole town came to Jesus through her, the first person to ever know Jesus as messiah, and Jesus stayed with that town because of her witness.
Let’s think back to the Man Born Blind, who did nothing at all to earn his illness, nor did his parents, who was cared for by Jesus even after those around him rejected him.
Let’s think back to Lazarus, and Mary, and Martha, who all had to deal with deep feelings of abandonment in the face of illness and death, and who still let Jesus do what he was always going to do, and followed his instructions when he told them to remove the graveclothes off of the one who had recently come back to life.
If others are to think of Christ when they see us, we should be the first to remove the proverbial graveclothes from others. Check in with one another and with your neighbors, especially your neighbors who are struggling during this time. (For some of us, this might mean meeting our neighbors for the first time, and that is a good and brave step in and of itself.) Drag off the graveclothes of poverty and of difficult jobs and lack of childcare or transportation as you’re able and offer words of kindness and encouragement that match your actions. Do grocery runs for those who need it. Offer to watch kids. Share your toilet paper. Do all that you can for your neighbors who are struggling. If you’re local and able, volunteer with Grace House so that we won’t have to shut down as coronavirus spreads. We can be the shield of Christ for others in this time of need.
Of course, you can only do many of those things if you are healthy, well, not at increased risk of the virus, and if you haven’t come into contact with the virus. But if that’s not the case, if any of us are not well or if we’re at risk, let’s remind ourselves of what Jesus said about the Man Born Blind. It was neither his parents nor that man who sinned that caused his illness. Remember, remember, and remind yourself that God does not desire death. From humanity’s first breath until the coming of Christ, God has never desired death.
The story of the Man Born Blind has wisdom for those who are healthy and well too. It calls us to, without discrimination or judgement, help those who are affected. It can be as small as ordering Chinese food or as big as volunteering to deliver meals or watch children, as long as we’re healthy and well. The discrimination of Jesus’s day is clear to us now but we’re a bit blind to the discrimination these days. Having Christ all around you means letting Jesus heal you from any prejudices you may have.
But regardless of your health and your ability to help at this moment, let’s remember St. Photina and St. Nicodemus. Both engaged Jesus in deep, important, theological questions, and regardless of their background, both received the truth of Christ. All are loved. All are cared for. It doesn’t matter if you have a portfolio that’s taken a hit with the whims of the stock market or if you’re struggling to keep food on the table and to get medication for your little ones. Jesus speaks the same truth. The chains of this world have been broken and we have good news to share with anyone around us:
God is love and Christ is God and Christ is with us.
Love is with us.
Love goes before us and love surrounds us.
Love protects us and names us.
Love guides us and guards us and sets a path before us.
Love shields us and protects us not from the microscopic but from the macroscopic fear and panic that the world is trying to breathe into us. Love gives us wisdom and knowledge and love will be with us no matter what happens.
Love before you.
Love behind you.
Love in you.
Love beneath you.
Love above you,
Love on your right.
Love on your left.
Love in the mouth of everyone who speaks of you.
Love in the heart of everyone who thinks of you.
Beloved of God, will you arise with me as you are able and pray the Breastplate of St. Patrick?