Sexagesima Sunday 2010

 

You are under the power of no other enemy, are held in no other captivity and want no other deliverance but from the power of your own earthly self.  This is the one murderer of the divine life within you.  It is your own Cain that murders your own Abel.  Now everything that your earthly nature does is under the influence of self-will, self-love, and self-seeking, whether it carries you to laudable or blamable practices; all is done in the nature and spirit of Cain and only helps you to such goodness as when Cain slew his brother.  For every action and motion of self has the spirit of Antichrist and murders the divine life within you. William Law:

 

You and I find ourselves situated in that brief time of the Church’s life between Epiphany and Lent. We have endured and embraced the vision of God manifested in the life of Jesus Christ, and have quietly meditated upon the magnificent and brilliant beauty of God’s love in the Incarnation of his only-begotten Son. We are preparing for a deeper encounter with the effects of that vision on our lives, when in Lent we begin truly to die and fall away from ourselves. We are being moved inward to the center of our being. In the Gesima Season, on the Sundays of Septuagesima, Sexagesima and Quinquagesima, roughly seventy, sixty and fifty days before Easter, you and I are bidden to prepare our souls and bodies to receive God’s living Word, and to encounter and experience of our own deaths in the face of the one death whose memory must always change and transform us. On the Gesima Sundays you and I face ourselves, admit who we are and begin to die. And what better way to begin this journey that with the thoughts and prayers of William Law, steadfast, eighteenth-century follower of the Saviour.

         

William Law, you will remember, lived in a time in world history when the civilized world was being assaulted by the ideas and words of a Deist world. A Deist is one who believes in God, but for all practical purposes has removed himself from the God-man, from the unity and communion binding man to God, in Jesus Christ. The eighteenth century rationalists or Deists, you see, found themselves embarrassed by the notion of God in the flesh, in Jesus Christ, precisely because they could not prove it. Not being able to prove it has been a problem for philosophers in all ages, and respectable European gentlemen of the time found it best to dispense with anything smacking of a faith that would assent to it. So a world emerged, from which we have yet to recover, in which faith and assent to the God-man, and his unifying and reconciling mission of redemptive love, was denied. But our friend, the good and noble Mr. William Law, would have none of it. Against the rationalist pride of the Deists, William Law was one of few voices, like Blaise Pascal across the Channel in France, who dared to defy it. And so we find it good to listen to his words today.

 

But interestingly enough, rather than inveighing against the outside powers and words seeking to demolish and destroy the Word made flesh, or Jesus Christ, William Law rather reminds us of the real enemy to our faith. He brings us into the presence of our own inner temptations which emerge even when, with the best of intentions, we seek to faithfully follow Jesus Christ. William Law does not recall his audience and us to a condemnation or judgment of the “bad guys”, be they Deists then or secular humanists now, but rather to ourselves. After all, we will not be spared at the last day of Judgment because we recognized the evils in our society and pointed the finger at others. We will be spared then, only if even now we begin to look at ourselves, and the true enemy lurking within which threatens to separate us from Jesus Christ.  You are under the power of no other enemy, are held in no other captivity and want no other deliverance but from the power of your own earthly self.  This is the one murderer of the divine life within you. Truly we are in one danger, and that danger is that we shall fall under the power and spell of our own self-destructive potentiality. The one danger that we must face is that of the self. And the self, at the end of the day, is the only being capable of keeping God out and the self within, to cultivate and work all manner of death-bound destruction.

 

William Law continues: It is your own Cain that murders your own Abel.  Now everything that your earthly nature does is under the influence of self-will, self-love, and self-seeking, whether it carries you to laudable or blamable practices… Law links our potential to inner destruction to the history recorded in the 4th chapter of Genesis. There we read that Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground. And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the LORD. And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And the LORD had respect unto Abel and to his offering: Cain, like you and I, was made to be a tiller of the ground. As such, he is symbolically and allegorically the man who tills and cultivates the soil of the soul. Cain was made to receive and care for the first encounter of God with man, as God sews and plants his Word within the human soul. Abel was a keeper of the sheep, and is truly superior to Cain allegorically and spiritually, for he is the symbol of Christ the Good Shepherd, who comes to bring his offering of love and goodness to the soul whose soil is ready for the coming of Christ. But we read that Cain slew Abel, and so we interpret this as meaning that Cain did not cherish and grow his gift of the implanted Word of God, expecting and welcoming the gift which would perfect his preparation, the offering of his younger brother, the keeper of sheep, and of himself.

 

Cain surrendered to himself, and became the murderer of the divine within himself. First, he was ungrateful for the gift of his calling, to cultivate the soil of the soul. Second he became envious of his brother’s gift, the care and love of his soul, figured in his younger brother’s vocation to tend to and care for the sheep. Again, Abel symbolizes Christ the Good Shepherd who comes to the soul only when it has been made ready in Cain, in us, when we realize that the Word addressed to us, and then implanted and sown in us can be properly loved and cared for only by the shepherd. But Cain, and you and I who are very much like him, rather envy the presence of the shepherd in our lives, and so cannot welcome him, because we have killed the divine within ourselves. We follow rather self-will, self-love, self-seeking, and so ignore what God the Word has been trying to do in us as he makes us fit to welcome the work and labour of the Good Shepherd.

 

In today’s Gospel we learn of a parable which can be applied to our Cain-like existence. We learn about what can and does progressively destroy the Word God sown in the human heart and in the soul. God addresses Cain. God the sower goes out to sow his seed and as he sowed, some fell by the way-side, and it was trodden down, and the fowls of the air devoured it. Sometimes we are Cain when we treat the Word of God as that which has been sown outside of the heart, on the side and removed from it, and so it is subject to a primitive form of despair which does not see and know it for what it is. We are like those who are by the way side and hear; then cometh the devil, and taketh away the word out of their hearts, lest they should believe, and be saved.  We have heard the Word addressed to us; we are even reminded of our being blessed by him. God says, Why are you extremely sorrowful? Why has your countenance fallen?  God has made us and given us a labour. We are to till the soil of our souls. But we treat God’s Word as an outside, unimportant phenomenon. We are so distracted by the blessings of others, like Abel. We do not remember that we come from God, he has given us the gift, but we forget and so the Word is easily taken from us. It does not move and define us. We treat human life as our own, ours for the making and unmaking, ours for the creating and uncreating. We treat ourselves as gods, knowing good and evil, or rather determining good and evil for ourselves. If so, the Word of God falls by the wayside, and is devoured.

 

In another way God addresses us. The same Word is sown and, as our Gospel tells us, it falls upon a rock, and as soon as it springs up, it withers away because it lacked moisture. Perhaps with Cain we know that the Word has been sown, and at first we have a time of accepting it, but then we grow cold, because we do not cultivate the gift within, out of envy for our brother’s gift without. We progressively respond to it with cold indifference or determined refusal to allow it to grow. Our pride is strengthened, and we kill the divine within ourselves because we allow it to sit on top of the frozen and unyielding surface of our lives. We do not allow it entry. It has been sown, but we respond by killing its beginnings and startings in our lives. We have no root, and for a while believe, and in time of temptation fall away. We are tempted to view what others have or do not have, and we are wrongly moved and defined by our brother’s life, be it his vice or virtue, and so forget that the Word needs to be grown within our own souls. What was envy limited to the outward irritation of Abel, or any blessed brother or sister, moves inward. We cultivate inner envy, wrath begins to boil, and so our hearts are hardened to the healing power of the Word. We cannot will the good of our brother, and if we do not love our brothers whom we see, how can we love God whom we do not see?

 

Our sin grows and matures. The same Word is sown, following the Gospel, and sometimes it falls among thorns, and the thorns sprang up with it, and choke it. With Cain the Word had been heard, but by now we are so consumed with our self-will, self-love, and self-seeking, that it is choked and killed and so is destroyed effectively for us. We have allowed the self to be so wounded and possessed by pride, envy and wrath, that we have become truly narcissistic.  In addition to being envious of his brother Abel, Cain was truly possessed with his own self-importance and the praise and blessing that he felt was due to him. And so he pursued the good only for himself, or was so moved by it in relation only to himself, that the Word could not breathe its way and place into his heart and his soul. You and I do this also. If it is not moved by envy of others, my heart and yours might be moved to seek the things of this world in order to ensure our health, our comfort, our pleasure and our security in the world. You and I then choke the life of the divine Word within and so kill its growth so that we cannot accept and welcome it both in ourselves and in others.

         

The seed that longs to be sown in the heart of Cain and in your heart and mind, is the Word of God. Its intended place and space of growth and flowering is the soil of the human soul. And Cain, you and I spend much of our lives refusing the implanted Word because we murder our brothers and sisters in thought, word and deed. The murder of Abel is but a sign and illustration of our murder of Jesus Christ. William Law reminds us that every action and motion of self has the spirit of Antichrist and murders the divine life within you. When we murder another, be in any man of Christ the God-man, we kill the Word of divine life within us. We render ourselves nearly incapable of receiving the Word of God, and then of rejoicing at its presence in others. Thankfully for all of us, Cain and you and I are forgiven. For the true brother, who is Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh for us, will accept our murder of him, and even in the midst of the act itself, offer to us the Word that persists in longing to be planted in our souls. It is only through the murder that Cain comes to experience the love of God. It is only in our murder of our brother Jesus Christ, in himself and in the least of these his brethren, that we come to perceive and sense the inconceivable and unbelievable mercy and love of God.

         

Today, knowing that blood is on our hands, let us again become that rich and fertile soil ready to receive the implanted Word of God. Let us with St. Paul “glory in the things which concern our infirmities,” that is, glory in the fact that we are infirm, weak, and powerless without God’s persistent and moving love and mercy. Let us know that we are made to be “our brother’s keeper.” Let us know that first we are meant to keep and grow God’s Word in our souls. Let us know that we are meant to keep, cherish and encourage the presence of God’s word in others lives. Let us know that we are meant to keep and embrace the love of God in our true brother, the new Abel, Jesus Christ. And then we shall know that the Word is both from God and in man, from God and in us. Amen.

 

© W.J. Martin†