I am spent, O my Christ, breath of my life. Perpetual stress and surge, in league together, make long, O long, this life, this business of living. Grappling with foes within and foes without, my soul has lost its beauty, blurred your image. Did ever oak such buffeting from winds or ship receive from waves as I do now? Labor to labor, task succeeds to task…Friendship has bowed and illness wasted me…Do not forsake me, my Strength, I beseech you. When the storms beat hard I may have betrayed you, but let me return to you now.

–Gregory of Nazianzus

Gregory of Nazianzus was one of eight great Doctors of the ancient Church at a time in her history that was quite tumultuous (4th century). His prayer above reflects this reality. I share it with you as a follow-up to yesterday’s sermon because it represents powerfully the idea that relying on the power and authority of God does not make us immune from the troubles of life.

Note the almost desperate tone of the prayer. Things are arrayed against Gregory and he knows what it is like to suffer and meet defeat. His work is arduous. There appears to be little reward from it and in it. In fact, he has made enemies by remaining faithful to Jesus. As a result he is assailed with doubts and fears about his life and his relationship with God to the point that makes him sick–literally.

But even within his cry for help (pay attention to that very dynamic), Gregory reaches out to God because he knows that bad is it seems to him, life would be utterly hopeless without God. And in doing so, even in a prayer of desperation, he taps into a power that is not his own to help him live faithfully and continue is work on behalf of the Lord.

This prayer resonates with me because it is so real and reflects what so many who call themselves Christians feel on occasion. Saying that we rely on God does not mean we put on a happy face all the time. It means rather that we acknowledge our powerlessness to deal with all the hurt and evil that exist in God’s good but fallen creation and seek the One who has the power to help us not only persevere but to transcend so that we are more than conquerors through Jesus who loved us (Romans 8.37), conquerors as God defines it, not as the world does. May you know in your daily life this God of love and power who is made known to us in Jesus the Messiah.

I close with an excerpt from Carlos Carretto, a Catholic spiritual writer and one of my favorite authors. His words about the Church are spot on and provide another illustration of what I spoke about yesterday when I observed that the way we think, speak, and behave, especially when dealing with others in our respective congregations, can provide a powerful witness to the risen Presence of Jesus and his power and authority in the world. Every time we love one another instead of selfishly loving ourselves first, we help bring in the kingdom on earth as in heaven.

An assembly where people do not love each other, where they accuse each other, where there is rancor or hatred, cannot call itself prophetic [the very mission of St. Augustine’s Anglican].

A person who keeps silent about the truth, who hides the light, is not a prophet [the spokesperson for and embodiment of God’s presence in and for his world].

A people which kills, which deteriorates the quality of life, which suffocates the poor, which is not free, is not a prophetic people.

That is why it is not enough for just any assembly to call itself Church.

A group of young people which meets for sports or outings with the “do everything” blessing of the up-to-date parish, another group which meets to camouflage some political position cannot be called Church, even if the sports are refereed by a famous devout layman and the social ideas are worked out by a priest.

To call itself Church, an assembly must mirror the first assembly that met in the Upper Room with Christ. an assembly of prayer and prophecy.

But it is not easy to prophesy; it is terribly costly. It has to be drawn from the silence of God, and there is need to swim against the stream, need to pray at length, need to be without fear.

–From The God Who Comes