by CCW | 1 February 2015 14:45
Transitions. Today is a day of transition. It marks a change in focus and direction. Epiphany was the season of teaching, of opening us out to the essential divinity of Christ and to what that means for human redemption. We were shown what God seeks for our humanity. Epiphany segues into the season of the Gesimas which mark the transition towards Easter. Tomorrow, too, is Candlemas, which marks the midway point between Christmas and Easter, the transition from Bethlehem to Jerusalem, the transition from light to life.
If Epiphany taught us about the divine will and purpose for our humanity, then with Septuagesima we begin to enter into the divine work of human redemption itself. The Gesima Sundays are the pre-Lenten Sundays that turn us towards Easter as suggested in their names; Septuagesima signals the week of the seventieth day before Easter, Sexagesima, the week of the sixtieth day before Easter, Quinquagesima, the fiftieth day before Easter; terms already clearly associated with an older Latin term for Lent, namely Quadragesima; the word ‘Lent’ is an Old English term of Germanic origins that probably refers to the lengthening of days that heralds the coming of spring.
I mention these things not to be pedantic as if this were some sort of esoteric and useless kind of knowledge but because they belong to the essential pattern of our corporate lives as a community of faith and because they speak rather directly to some of our contemporary problems such as the so-called ‘nature deficit’ of the digital age and to the general sense of a disconnect between our humanity and the natural world as well as between us and God.
The lessons are clear about the change of focus and emphasis. We turn from what is revealed from above to what is to be accomplished below, if I may use such spatial metaphors without being taken literally. But notice. The Epistle speaks about running a race but that race is about disciplining the body, about the exercise of temperance or self-control, and about a prize that is “incorruptible” in complete contrast to what is “corruptible”. Notice, too, that Paul speaks directly to the idea of living out what he has been preaching; in other words, a transition from learning to living.
And the Gospel places us on the ground, in the vineyard of creation, where we discover the vocation of our humanity as labourers. We have to work for our living yet somehow through work we learn that what is right for us is what God seeks for us. The greatest labour is the labour of prayer in which we seek what God seeks for us which is not only by definition good, as the lessons of Epiphany have repeatedly shown us, but also necessarily just, which is what Christ’s work of redemption for our humanity is all about; in short, the divine justice for the good of our humanity. Working in the vineyard is about our participation in the justice of God for our humanity.
Now this is a deep and, perhaps, difficult lesson that nonetheless follows logically upon the lessons of the Epiphany. The miracles of the Gospels reveal the limitations and the brokenness of our humanity and show us that God seeks our wholeness both in body and soul. How is that to be accomplished? What is required of us? How can we enter into the work of salvation? It can’t be simply done by us as if we could perfect our humanity ourselves. That is folly both old and new as a moment’s reflection on human experience reveals.
No. We are reminded of the pageant of grace given to be realized in us through the exercise of the virtues of our souls. From the vision of God’s love for our humanity we turn to the perfecting work of God’s love in us through our activity. It is God and us, God working in us. What that means is quite radical and not a little challenging as this Gospel story shows us. We not only are called to work in the vineyard of creation but we have to work at understanding that the very conditions of our working and its reward can only be in accord with the divine justice which is not the same as human justice. The divine justice is mercy and truth for all who labour whether long or short; the measure is our relation to God and not our comparisons with one another.
That, perhaps, is the real challenge of this Gospel. The divine justice which seeks the good for all here awakens envy and self-righteousness, the idea that some are more deserving than others, that some are better than others. But from a theological standpoint this is false. It is a worldly way of looking at things that misses the deeper point of the human condition. None of us is perfect; none of us is complete; comparisons between one another are only part of the picture, not the whole picture, and can seriously distort that picture.
This Gospel parable challenges us about human justice to awaken us to the divine justice. God’s justice seeks the good of the whole of our humanity and not just for a few. That said, this Gospel also challenges human justice in relation to questions about equity and recompense. On the one hand, and deliberately so, it seems unfair that those who have worked long and hard, “hav[ing] borne the burden and the heat of the day”, should receive the same as “these last who have worked but one hour”; on the other hand, it is what each have agreed to, a contract, as it were. These two contrasting and conflicting viewpoints illustrate the limits of human justice.
The parable opens us out to the real meaning of human redemption. It is about the perfection of our humanity which can only happen by the grace and goodness of God. He is the creator of the vineyard and the creator of our humanity. Our truth, individually and collectively, is found in our life with Christ. The true worth of our labour is not found simply in how long we have worked but how well we have worked with what God has given us. The true worth of our humanity is not found in how much wealth we have accumulated or received but what we have done with what God has given us. The parable does not dictate a blueprint for economic life; it does, however, challenge us about our relationships with one another, rich and poor alike. We don’t work simply for ourselves. Working in accord with God’s will for our humanity means the awareness of one another and the larger task of seeking the good for one another, the good for all.
Prayer carries over into all the aspects of our life. As the great Anglican divine Richard Hooker rightly notes, “Prayer signifies all the service that we ever do unto God”. That is the challenge and the message of the Gesimas. They remind us of the Godward direction of our lives. Our lives of prayer embrace our working lives, our lives as lived in the vineyard of creation, our lives as lived for God in all that we do.
The ancient ethical question about living the good life takes on a whole new direction with Christianity. The good life is about living for God through our lives with one another. But that can only be accomplished through God living with us; through God accomplishing the redemption of our humanity in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. The Gesimas and Lent show us how we participate in that work of human redemption.
God’s love sets our loves in order and perfects our human loves. Augustine comments tellingly on the transition from pagan to Christian ethics. The four classical or cardinal virtues of temperance, courage, prudence and justice, two of which set before us today, the other two on Sexagesima, are all “splendid vices” considered in themselves. They are not enough with respect to the real truth and dignity of our humanity which is found in our life with God.
And so we are shown something of what it means for divine justice, itself the form of God’s charity, to perfect the human virtues. “Faith, hope and charity”, the greatest of which is charity or love, as we will hear on Quinquagesima Sunday, are the theological virtues which perfect the human virtues, making them all forms of love, ways in which our lives participate in Christ. Temperance or self-control of our appetites and emotions, courage or strength of heart, prudence or practical wisdom, justice or the right order of the parts of human personality are not ends in themselves; through the grace of God which perfects but does not destroy, they become the means of our life with Christ.
Through temperance, courage, prudence, and justice we seek what God seeks for the whole of our humanity; such is the divine love which seeks what is good and right for us.
Fr. David Curry
Septuagesima, Feb. 1st, 2015
Source URL: https://christchurchwindsor.ca/2015/02/01/sermon-for-septuagesima-6/
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