From the Letter of Jude:
I find it necessary to write and appeal to you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints.
(From the Daily Office Lectionary – Jude 1:3 (NRSV) – December 6, 2013.)
Nelson Mandela, an example of justice, courage, wisdom, patience, strength, love, hope, faith, forgiveness, and reconciliation, known to his countrymen and people of grace around the world as “Madiba,” died yesterday evening at the age of 95. His death was not unexpected; he had been ailing for quite a long time. This may be St. Nicholas Day, but really there’s no choice but to consider and write about Mr. Mandela!
He once wrote, “No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”
That, I think, is the faith entrusted to the saints. It has nothing to do with intellectual acceptance of doctrines and dogmas, with creeds and confessions. Faith has to do with trust; in fact, the word in the Greek New Testament translated as “faith,” pisteuo, would better be rendered as “trust” in many circumstances. Faith is not some substance or trait of character that one can have to a greater or lesser extent. Faith is an action of the will, a decision to trust in something or someone other than yourself. To have faith is to love another.
Madiba also said that to be truly free “is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” That way of life is the way of faith, I think, the way of trust, the way of love.
He was imprisoned for 27 years! Eighteen of those were at Robben Island, where he was addressed officially only as “Inmate No. 466/64.” Even in his prison cell, even with that dehumanizing treatment, when released to freedom and eventually to political power he did not engage in revenge. He said, after leaving prison, “As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.”
With Anglican Archbishop of Capetown Desmond Tutu, who led the South African Truth and Reconciliation process, President Mandela steered his country on a path of peace, justice, forgiveness, and trust. That is faith in action, the faith entrusted to the saints!
Rest eternal grant to him, O Lord;
And let light perpetual shine upon him.
May Madiba’s soul, and the souls of all the departed,
through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
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Father Funston is the rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Medina, Ohio.
I’m sitting here this morning knowing full well that I should be writing something about Advent and, truth be told, there are other parts of today’s daily readings that would lend themselves to an Advent reflection. But…. yesterday a federal court in Michigan decreed that the city of Detroit could carry on with a restructuring of its debt through bankruptcy and, more importantly and more destructively, that among the obligations that could be discharged are its pension responsibilities to former municipal employees. I was deeply troubled by that news when I heard it yesterday morning and I’ve been pondering it since.
Read it carefully, it’s not what you think it is. It’s not what you expect. It’s not a call to make agricultural implements out of the weapons of war . . . it is quite literally the opposite!
This part of Isaiah was written shortly after the return of the Jewish exiles from Babylon, which Cyrus of Persia had allowed in the middle of the 6th Century BCE. Isaiah (on God’s behalf) was promising two things with these images of laborers enjoying the fruits of their own efforts: first, that the people would no longer be (if not slaves) subjugated workers of foreign (or domestic) overlords and, second, that there would be peace. Israel’s and Judah’s history had been one of regular (if not constant) upheaval with invaders coming in and taking control of the vineyards and seizing the people’s lands and homes: the simple planting of vineyards with an expectation of enjoying the crop was a metaphor of peace and security. 
Today is the 50th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Like everyone who was even marginally grown up or conscious on that day, I know exactly where I was and what I was doing when it happened. It is one of those moments in time that are surreal in their clarity. 
Both my father and my father-in-law were veterans of World War II. My father was gravely injured in France — while he was running from his position as a forward artillery spotter to convey information for the gunners (running because his radio had malfunctioned and he had vital data to convey), shrapnel entered the bottom of his right foot, exited, entered and exited his calf, then entered his thigh and damaged the bone. Wounded, he made it to a place where his information could be transmitted. He was eventually evacuated to England, underwent surgery, and was sent home to the States for therapy and convalescence. He was nearly always in pain from those injuries and frequently found relief in a bottle; it was that drinking that eventually killed him when he lost control of his car in a single-vehicle accident.
We live in a country where there are cities once full of people now sitting lonely: we sit here today less than 200 miles by turnpike from Detroit, where the picture on the cover of our bulletin was taken, a city which has been described as looking as if it had been bombed in a war! Just yesterday, Salon reported that in the United States there are 14 million unoccupied residences. Six months ago, “Detroit had more than 83,000 unoccupied residential addresses. That constitutes nearly 25 percent of the city’s potential housing stock. New Orleans had 44,000, for 21 percent. Cleveland had 41,000, or 19 percent.” (
We are given three very challenging readings from Holy Scripture this morning. First, there is Jeremiah’s familiar, but radical, prophetic metaphor of God as a potter able to do with the nation of Israel what a potter does with a spoiled piece of work. Second, perhaps the oddest piece of New Testament literature, Paul’s personal letter to a man named Philemon returning a runaway slave whom Paul has converted to Christianity. And, lastly, Luke’s report of Jesus’ radical requirement that his followers must hate their possessions, their families, and even themselves. What I believe is common among these lessons is a call to radical transformation.
Finish this verse: “The Lord helps those . . . .”
