Rogation Sunday
Fr. David Curry
Christ Church, Windsor, NS
May 5, 2002
 
	 
	
	
	“I came forth from the Father and am come into the world:
	
	
	again, I leave the world, and go to the Father”
	 
	
	Everything is embraced in the 
	prayer of the Son to the Father.  The recurring refrain of Eastertide 
	is, as we have said, “because I go to the Father”. The meaning of 
	that refrain is wonderfully amplified in the Gospel for this day: “I came 
	forth from the Father and am come into the world”, Jesus says, and 
	“again, I leave the world, and go to the Father” (Jn.16.28).  Jesus 
	says these words to the disciples on his way to the cross, but they have the 
	fullness of their meaning in the Ascension, in his going to the Father.  
	Everything is gathered into the primacy of the spiritual relationship of the 
	Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  That everything includes the 
	bitterness of our sorrows and the pains of our deaths; in short, the 
	consequences of our sin and folly.  “In the world”, Jesus says,
	“ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the 
	world” (Jn.16.38).
	 
	
	What is this “overcoming of 
	the world”?  Is it a flight from the world or is it the subduing of 
	the world by means of our technocratic will?  These are the senses of 
	the language of overcoming in our contemporary culture.  They are a far 
	remove from what Jesus is saying.  He means something more than a 
	flight from the world and something other than our technocratic domination 
	of the world.  The overcoming is not a forgetting of being.  It is 
	not a forsaking of the world as if it were nothing worth.  And the 
	overcoming, too, is not a subduing of the world or a manipulation of the 
	world for our utility and consumption.  For in these contemporary 
	attitudes we lose sight of the landscape of creation and our place in it.  
	By no means.  The Christian sense of the overcoming of the world means 
	nothing less than the redemption of creation.  The world, too, is drawn 
	into the liturgy of the resurrection.  
	 
	
	Today is known as Rogation 
	Sunday.  The days of rogation are days of asking, days of prayer, but 
	with a particular emphasis upon the land.  Rogation Sunday would remind 
	us of the redemption of creation itself and our place in the landscape of 
	creation redeemed.  The resurrection is cosmic in scope.  Prayer 
	is an activity of redeemed humanity.  We make our prayers in the land 
	where we have been placed.  Our places in the land are to be the places 
	of grace.  How?  By prayer.  Rogationtide embraces the world 
	in prayer.  The world is comprehended in the relationship of the Father 
	and the Son in the bond of the Holy Spirit.  What is overcome is sin, 
	the world as turned away from God and as turned against God, the world as 
	infected and stained by our sinfulness, by our forgetfulness of our place in 
	the landscape of creation redeemed.  The consequences are our 
	disrespect for the land and the sea, for the world in which we have been 
	placed.  We make a mess of it.  We forget the place of creation in 
	the will of God; we forget about the redemption of creation. 
	 
	
	Rogation Sunday would recall us 
	to a kind of theology of the land.  In the story of Creation, the 
	earth, the dry land, is said to be good (Gen.1.9,10).  And we who are 
	made in the image of God are also formed out of the dust, “from the 
	ground” (Gen.2.7) and placed in the garden of creation.  The garden 
	is the land of paradise.  In the story of the Fall, our disobedience 
	not only alienates us from God but also from the land.  The land of 
	paradise becomes the land of sweat and toil. “Cursed is the ground 
	because of you...In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread till you 
	return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to the 
	dust you shall return” (Gen.3.17,18).  “And the Lord God sent 
	him forth from the garden of Eden to till the ground from which he was 
	taken” (Gen.3.23).  In the story of Cain and Abel, the land becomes 
	the land of blood.  Cain slays Abel in the field: “The voice of your 
	brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground”, God says (Gen.4.10).  
	These stories are altogether fundamental to what unfolds in the rest of the 
	story of salvation in the Old and New Testaments.
	 
	
	But in the story of salvation, 
	the land is also signified to become the “promised land”, the land of 
	our renewed relationship with God.  The promised land is variously 
	described in the Old Testament.  Its proverbial description is “the 
	land flowing with milk and honey” (e.g. Deut.6.3), but in The 
	Book of Genesis the promised land is just “the land which I 
	shall give you” (Gen.13.15,17).  It may not be all that much to 
	look at.  It signifies simply the place of our relationship with God.  
	That is its most basic and  fundamental sense.
	 
	
	In The Book of Exodus, 
	the land is the place of revelation, the “holy ground” (Ex.3.5) where 
	God makes both his name, “I am who I am” (Ex.3.14), and his will for 
	his people, known to Israel through Moses.  The land is the place of 
	liberation, the place of our liberation to God: “I have come down to 
	deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of 
	that land to a good and broad land” (Ex.3.8).  It is in that sense 
	of liberty and as given by God that the promised land is first called “a 
	land flowing with milk and honey” (Ex.3.8).  Yet it is not its 
	paradisal elements, its echoes of Eden in material and descriptive terms, 
	which make it the promised land.  The promised land is primarily, as 
	The Book of Deuteronomy puts it, “the place which the 
	Lord God will choose, to make his name dwell there” (Deut.12.11), the 
	place of our abiding in the will of God.  It is the land which God 
	gives you; the land where the truth of God is to be honoured and respected.
	 
	
	Jesus intensifies and clarifies 
	this sense of the land as “the place which the Lord God (I am Who I am) 
	will choose, to make his name (I am Who I am) dwell there”.  He 
	intensifies and clarifies the name of God into the names of spiritual 
	relationship, the relationship of the Trinity. And he makes the place of our 
	abiding in the life of God the place of redemption.  The blood which 
	cries out from the ground to God is the blood of the Only-begotten Son of 
	the Father.  The cry is his prayer.  It is his prayer for us.  
	He has gathered the whole world into his love for the Father.  His 
	spirit, which he places into the hands of the Father, carries all of the 
	meaning of our misuse of God and the world back to God in love.  The 
	overcoming of the world in its opposition to God is accomplished in prayer 
	on the cross, in the prayer of the Son to the Father in the Spirit.
	 
	
	 All prayer is nothing less than 
	asking the Father in the name of the Son by the power of the Spirit.  
	Out of the land of blood, sweat and tears comes the prayer which redeems the 
	whole world: “Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit” (Lk.23.46).  
	And so the land becomes the land of grace, the place of our abiding in the 
	spiritual fellowship of the Trinity, the place of prayer and praise to the 
	living God. 
	 
	
	
	“I came forth from the Father and am come into the world:
	
	
	again, I leave the world, and go to the Father”