Second Sunday in Lent, 2011
Text: St. Matthew 15-21-28
The Rev. Jerry Kistler
St. Stephen’s Reformed
Episcopal Church
“The Trial of Faith”
So as we continue our Lenten journey—our journey to Easter—we ought to be reminded again of one of the sources that gave us Lent so many centuries ago. And that was the ancient Catechumenate: that three year period of training and preparation for Baptism, which would finally occur on Easter Even. The last forty days of this training period was an intense time of instruction, fasting, prayer, and even exorcism to prepare the catechumens to enter into the Paschal mysteries—the mysteries of our redemption in the death and resurrection and ascension of Christ—which they would be given to partake of in the Holy Eucharist for the first time on Easter Day. This forty-day period of preparation was actually called “the quarantine” for the Latin word for “forty.”
The way of becoming a Christian in the ancient Church was not an easy way. It was not an easy journey. It took an amazing amount of commitment and perseverance. But we have to understand the historical context. In the early forth century, when the catechumenate was at its peak in terms of being the usual way a person became a Christian, the Church in the Roman Empire was under the constant threat of being destroyed by various waves of persecution. As a matter fact, under the emperor Diocletian, for the first time it actually became illegal to be a Christian. In his edict of the year 303, all churches were to be destroyed, all Bibles and liturgical books were to be confiscated and publicly burned, all sacred vessels were to be handed over, and all meetings for worship were forbidden. Any kind of Christian assembly was illegal. This is when you have Christians organizing themselves into burial societies or funeral guilds and beginning to surreptitiously worship in the catacombs, because funeral guilds were one of the only types of associates the Romans would actually allow. And in this way they came to have a semi-legal existence. But secrecy was of the essence. This is why the catechumenate become so important.
With there being such an incredible potential cost in becoming a Christian, there was always the danger of the new Christian falling away under persecution, or even of betraying the community, so that it became necessary to exercise a great deal of caution in admitting people into membership in the Church. Thus you had this three-year probationary period which was in a very real sense a trial of faith, a trial of the genuineness of a person’s faith, only after which that person would be able to participate in the sacraments of the Church and receive the fullness of the Faith. It was a true rite of passage and initiation into the mysteries of the Christian religion.
You see, up to the point of their baptism, a catechumen was
free to participate in the service of worship, but only the first part of it—what
we call “ante-communion.” It was anciently called “the liturgy of the Catechumen,”
and it’s the part of the service that consists of the various collects, and
readings from Scripture, and the sermon. But after the sermon was concluded,
and when it was time then to begin “the liturgy of the Faithful,” or “the
liturgy of the Elect”—the Communion proper—the deacon proclaimed with a loud
voice, “Holy things for the holy, let the dogs depart.” And this is where the
catechumens would be dismissed from the service, and only the baptized would
remain. It’s where we get the word “
But now I want you to imagine yourself as one of the catechumens and hearing Deacon Alan here say to you, “Holy things for the holy, let the dogs depart,” meaning you. How would that make you feel? You see, the question back then would have been, Would you persevere in faith, would you persevere in the trial of your faith, over such a long period and in the face of this constant rebuffing from the Church, to finally receive the blessing of being admitted into the Church, of being given to participate in the Paschal mysteries on Easter morning, and of receiving the fullness of the faith. Would you persevere?
But the same question could really be put to us today, as we continue through our forty-day period of preparation, our Lenten journey to Easter, and as we continue through this trial of faith that is the whole of the Christian life: Will we persevere in faith to receive the blessing of God, even when the path is difficult, even when the blessings of God don’t come immediately, even when we feel rebuffed by God himself, and it seems like He doesn’t even want to give us his blessings? Will we persevere in faith to receive the blessings of God?
Hopefully you’ve been able to see by now why we have the readings we do for this second Sunday in Lent. The ancient catechumenate is in the background. In our Old Testament lesson we see that God made Jacob wrestle with Him, God made Jacob contend with Him, until He in His grace allowed Jacob to prevail upon Him to give him His blessing. You remember what Jacob said: “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” Is that the attitude of your faith? It’s the same attitude reflected in the Gospel lesson by the Canaanite woman whose daughter is grievously vexed by a demon. Even when Jesus seems to ignore her, and even when He seems to completely reject her plea, saying that it’s not right to give the children’s bread to the dogs, she continues to press Him for help. She won’t let Him wriggle out of His words. “Yes, Lord,” she says, “What you say is right, Lord. But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” This gentile woman shows herself to be a true Israelite, who struggles with God and man in Christ and prevails. And Jesus answers, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done to you even as you desire.”
Now I think both of these stories are in the Bible to teach us that sometimes God wants us to really wrestle with Him, sometimes God wants us to struggle in faith against what seems like His indifference and even His outright hostility, in order to prove our faith, and in order to raise our faith to a new level, and then to give us His blessing—whatever we might be seeking from Him. It’s the trial of faith that St. Peter speaks of: “that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 1:7).
Sometimes we really feel like our faith is on trial, don’t we? And I would guess that that’s especially true—if you’re at all like me—in the area of your prayer life. Sometimes when I pray it feels like the heavens have turned to brass or concrete, and my prayers sort of ricochet back to earth unheard and unanswered. Sometimes it’s like sending our an important email only to have it bounce back to you with the frustrating message, “server unknown.” Sometimes I feel unknown to God. Sometimes I feel like the Canaanite woman in our Gospel lesson must have felt when she came to Jesus with her great need, but He answered her not a word.
But here’s the thing: if you’re not having your prayers answered, perhaps God is saying to you, “How badly do you desire what you’re asking? Do you desire it enough to really engage Me? Or will you toss up your prayers to Me like you toss coins in a wishing well and go on your merry, mindless way trusting in your own power to help yourself? And when I don’t answer that kind of prayer, will you then say, ‘God doesn’t hear prayer!’ or give yourself some silly excuse like ‘God only helps those who help themselves’? That’s a cop out.
You see, prayer that is effectual is prayer that engages God as person, not as some cosmic vending machine in the sky. And sometimes for our prayers to be effectual we have to contend with God, we have to strive with him, we have to wrestle with Him until he blesses us.
I’ll never forget the response I got from some of the men of my former parish when I started to pray to receive my wife. You have to understand that this was when I had absolutely no contact with Danielle. We’d gone out a couple of times, but she was interested in someone else, and so we stopped our correspondence and for several months there was just nothing. But I couldn’t let her go. It was one of the strangest things I’d ever experienced in my life. I could not let her go. And so I began to pray. And I told some of the guys of the church about this, and their response was, “Hey, you know, sometimes you just have accept reality. Sometime you just have to accept God’s will, and move on.” And my response back was, “Well, yah, but what if God wants me struggle with Him? What if it’s God’s will that I should really contend with Him in prayer before He gives me His blessing?” And this passage from Genesis about Jacob wrestling with the Lord became passage that was constantly in my mind and in my heart. And so I began to commit myself to wrestling with God through fasting prayer one day per week for about three months. And lo and behold, out of the blue—I think it was on Palm Sunday—I got an email card from Danielle wishing me a happy Easter. And then I called her on Good Friday, and, as they say, the rest is history.
But my point is: what if I’d heeded the advice of the guys at church? Where would I be today? I probably wouldn’t have Danielle as my wonderful wife. How many blessings from God are we missing out on because we don’t think we should have to really struggle with Him in prayer? Because we think prayer should be easy? And when it’s not, and we don’t immediately get what we ask for, we cop out and say, “Oh, it must not have been God’s will.” How many blessings of God are we missing out on because we don’t think we shouldn’t have to wrestle with God in prayer?
I think it’s time to re-examine our prayer life, to re-examine whether we’re really committed to the fight. And Lent is a great to do it.
Will you persevere in your trial of faith? Will you continue to wrestle with God in faith until He blesses you? When you feel rebuffed of God, will you not let Him go, will you—in reality unworthy dog—not let Him refuse you the crumbs that fall from the Master’s table? And in doing so, will you prove that yours is a faith that is worthy to be blessed? Or will you walk away?
Think of the ancient catechumens. Think of the trial of faith they had to go through, and the cost that was involved in becoming and being a Christian. And when the blessings of God aren’t coming to you fast enough or easy enough, think back to your brethren in the ancient Church and strive a little more, and persevere a little longer in your wrestling match with God. I guarantee that your faith will grow, and you will receive the blessing of God. +