ALL SAINTS CHURCH

If one studies Christian art through the ages one is able to see a number of images of Jesus that in some ways emphasized one or another aspect of the biblical record.  The theologian and humanitarian Albert Schweitzer spoke about the search for the historical Jesus as people looking down a deep well and seeing their own reflection.  In other words he felt that it was impossible to really know the real Jesus. However incomplete our knowledge is, it is informed by faith, the tradition and the subjective questions our existence raises within us.

When I was younger, Jesus seemed to be more of a magical superhero figure that knew everything, could do everything and acted exactly as God wanted him to in all circumstances. Later the idea of symbolic action and communication became clear to me. Still later the idea of Jesus struggling with his humanity and his calling became appealing to me.  In each context there was something that I needed in my development that affected my hermeneutical stance or approach to the Gospels.  They don’t mean less to me, but more, because as I change and grow, my questions change and grow and the answers I find become newly relevant.

Lately, I have been thinking about how strong Jesus was as an individual.  I think in the past, I imagined that Jesus might have felt that his mere presence was enough to attract individuals.  Like the Episcopal Church, we know that we have a beautiful liturgy and that those who have eyes to see and ears to hear will appreciate what we are doing.  Like in the movie Field of Dreams, if we worship well, they will come.

Yet, now I am seeing in my readings all these instances, where Jesus approached people, challenged people and demanded that they dedicate their lives to something radically new and different.  Excuses were unacceptable, so too were partial commitments.  When people talked about needing to finish domestic business first, including a parent’s funeral, Jesus did not accept the delay in discipleship. Was this symbolic hyperbole? Perhaps, but it certainly illustrates a side of Jesus that was confident, urgent and insistent.  

We come from a church that says, “bring your questions” and “your doubts are OK”.  Perhaps as people walked along the road next to Jesus that was the ethic too.  But at a certain point, when the question intensified and became, “How do I make this real for myself?” Jesus’ response was bold and unwavering.

As the mainline church continues to give ground to secularism and fundamentalism, perhaps it is because we assumed too much and asked too little.  We like our truths to be self-evident, but at a certain point, Jesus calls each of us to say who he is.  As we say who he is, we are also saying a lot about who we are.  If we seek to do what Jesus did, i.e. make a difference in our world, we need to feel and act on the strength of our convictions.

The rites of the church symbolize this, as it is not unusual to go from baptizing an infant, to a funeral with a wedding or two in the mix, frequently within a matter of hours. Once while riding on a subway, obviously on my way to perform a wedding, I glanced at my watch nervously. The person riding next to me began to inquire about the wedding and she eventually asked me, “Is it an important wedding?” I immediately replied, “It is to them!”

Weddings, baptisms, funerals, all of these events are so large they are impossible to contain within our personal psyches. We need to seek the wisdom and the rites of the ages to help us place ourselves in the context of the eternal and sacred history. Each of these rites tells us that life is about change, growth and the meaning of our mortality.

In school we learn how to acquire and manage information. We learn about the struggles and heroes of society, we learn skills to earn a living and perhaps we learn about the arts. But the deepest aspects of human existence, the meaning of our birth, our death and the ways we change in between, are not learned in the classroom. One reason is because different people have different opinions about these things. But another reason is because these issues are neither science nor art. At the heart of our existence is mystery that can only be approached by faith.

By nature religion is concerned with these ultimate questions. Our life itself poses the question. Our religion contains clues and tools to help us approach the mystery. These clues and tools function only for those who are honest about the nature and the depth of the question. Our scriptures, sacraments and liturgies must be used with the greatest degree of respect and reverence. If not, they become academic subjects, like any other. Perhaps a better image is of museum exhibits, to be observed at some remove.

Most of us don’t live too close to the question or the mystery too often. But we run into the question, like it or not, every time we encounter change, e.g. births, weddings, deaths. Of course there are smaller events, more subtle yet perceptible to the sensitive, or as Jesus would say, to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. Our lives are a journey of constant changes, deaths and rebirths that call for a spirituality to comprehend.

Our religion begins at the point of our “ultimate concern.” If we come with the honest question, posed to us by our existence, we will find in our church a sacred toolbox that is so nuanced and profound that it will excite the most passionate commitment to discovery.

Jesus exhorted us to seek the Kingdom of God first and that everything else would take care of itself. This summer, I encourage you to make this Kingdom your priority.

I think it was Dorothy Gayle in the Wizard of Oz who uttered in amazement, “Oh my, people come and go so quickly around here.”  Even as children we are fascinated with the constant entrances and exits people make in the drama of our lives.  Some bring great joy and some bring deep consternation.  How do we appropriate and hold people’s images in our minds and how do we let go of them?  I think the answers to these questions hold the secrets of our character.

Beyond coming and going, the biblical story is really more a story of coming and going and returning again.  It is as if God takes the thread that is our existence and weaves it in and out in a dialectic that becomes the rich tapestry of our own salvation history.  Perhaps one could speak of many Advents and Ascensions, or of the progressive story of Christmas followed by Good Friday and subsequently Easter; a holy cycle of being, never static but marked by change and renewal.

It seems that the entire church year is concerned with the sanctifying effects of the coming and going and coming again of the divine into the profane. Advent anticipates and Christmas celebrates the coming of Jesus. Epiphany bespeaks the recognition of the incarnation.  Lent concludes with the Holy Week observance of the end of Jesus’ life and Easter celebrates his return from the grave.  The Feast of the Ascension commemorates the resurrected Jesus’ departure from the earth and Pentecost celebrates the coming of the Holy Spirit.  To finish the year, Pentecost ends with the anticipation of the second coming of Christ the King.  

So it is with thoughts of going and returning that I address you.  As most of you know, I begin a four-month sabbatical beginning next week.  Besides thinking about 257 details to divert my attention before my departure, I have also thought about the role of the shaman in various cultures.  One of the tasks of the shaman is to separate himself from the community and descend to the realms of the dead or spirit world, in order to attain healing wisdom to bring back to the people.  In some ways I think this is an appropriate metaphor for the priest on sabbatical; a holy separation for the health of the community.

In order to be a healing or redemptive presence in the community, the priest, as spiritual leader, needs to step away from the community to commune with and drink deeply from the realm of the spirit.  Out of time, out of pocket, out of the quotidian demands of ordinary life, the clergy exercise their consecrated ability to re-explore and re-experience the divine.  To the outside observer, it may look self-indulgent.  But those who are familiar with the biblical record know that even Jesus frequently ‘went missing’ in order to have time alone, to commune with his God.   Abraham expressed his faith by following God’s leading into parts unknown.  It is faith that opens our lives to the ever-new experience of God’s transformative leading.  

So, yes, I am going. This Sunday, January 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany, will be my last Sunday until May at All Saints. I have been so encouraged by the responses I have received from many people in and near the congregation.  Calls and letters of support and encouragement have come from unexpected places.  Sometimes, others see the need before you see it yourself.  Other times your actions cause people to think about what is important in their own lives.  In any case, things are changing.  Already I can feel a difference.  As I prepare to leave, I feel there is a renewed spirit in the congregation.  In the past few weeks several new people have expressed interest in joining our parish.  The faithful have stepped up to take on more responsibility and a sense of our potential feels more and more palpable.  

It is with optimism that I hand the parish over to the able leadership of Bishop Richard Grein for these four months.  He is a brilliant teacher and a compassionate pastor.  He has met with Alexei and Kent and there already seems to be intuitive sense of teamwork and understanding among them.  In all the details and serendipity of preparation, it feels like God is preparing both All Saints and me for four months of growth and discovery.  We should both expect change and welcome growth.  I expect to commune with that Presence that called me to the priesthood and I expect that you will find a deeper appreciation for the joys of being Christ’s body here in this place.  

Yes, I am going. But whether I am here or there, I know nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.  I hope to see you this Sunday and again upon my return.  I expect to discover again that there is no place like home; a home marked by hospitality for the sojourner, support for the seeker, advocacy for the forgotten and transformation for the faithful.

Did you ever play “What if?”  I remember in seminary a number of professors and students asked the question, “What would you do if Jesus’ bones were conclusively found?”  The question provoked lots of lively and revealing discussion about what we really want in life and the roll Christianity has on our lives.  Of course the discussion ended with the grateful realization that this would not be possible and that we should all get back to the business of learning and proclaiming the gospel.

Recently, I had a discussion with a colleague about advertising a stewardship event. We wondered, if we told people we were going to discuss stewardship on a particular Sunday, would people be more or less likely to attend church. I know if I hear that Public Radio or Television is having a fund raising weekend I am more likely to change stations. It has been a long time since I found the Labor Day Telethon even of passing interest, let alone entertainment.

So, why would we expect people to want to discuss or hear about stewardship in Church. Don’t most people feel their lives are already too demanding?  If I come to church, don’t I just want to hear something like, “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy ladened, and I will give you rest?” The one thing I don’t want to hear is, “We need more money.”

Fund-raising says, we have a service from which you and your family benefit and we need your generosity. Stewardship starts with you and your core identity. From the perspective of faith, we speak about nothing less that the foundation of our existence.  We speak about the spiritual, psychic and philosophical underpinnings of the human condition.  If you want simple answers, jingoism or feel-good platitudes the church should feel alien to you. The Church is founded on the sacrificial love of a young man who faced his mortality with courage emanating from the deepest recesses of his soul and its connection to his God.  We are those people who are called to follow in his footsteps, i.e. finding our life in losing it for others.

Stewardship asks, “How deep are we willing to go?  How aware do we want to be of our lives?  To what degree am I serving myself or alternatively, making myself responsive to God?” On the surface, it may look like fund-raising, but it is as different as comparing Shakespeare to a newspaper tabloid.  There may be nothing wrong with the tabloid, but it doesn’t expand your horizons and it doesn’t challenge your views about yourself and your world.

Yes, Virginia, we are going to speak about stewardship, but we are not going to talk about fundraising or church finances (all in due time!). Now it can be told! This Sunday we are planning an adult forum about stewardship.  We are going to talk about our relation to what we possess and what possesses us.  How do we find spiritual freedom in an economy that works by stimulating our consumer appetites and relies on our need for retail therapy to keep the wheels rolling?

We invite you to join us, this Sunday and every Sunday.  It’s always about going deeper, finding meaning, connection, community and ultimately love and salvation.  It’s always about stewardship and discipleship.  It’s always about “working out our (plural) salvation with fear and trembling.”  As the song says, “Who could ask for anything more?”

I remember a professor who once said to me that my mistake was that I thought the Kingdom of God and the Church were synonymous.  (I think he said that to all the seminarians!) His point was that God’s Reign is not limited to the church. Indeed, God’s presence will manifest itself wherever God chooses.  Perhaps this is what Jesus meant when he said if you try to silence these people, even these stones will cry out in adoration.

Every day I run across people who tell me they have outgrown church and religion.  It meant something to them as children, but now as adults, they don’t have time for such stories and distractions.  For many, church is replaced by charities and movies, gardens, crossword puzzles and “Meet the Press”.  “I am a good person” I hear on a regular basis. It is as if culture
has taken the best of religion and cast off the excess.

Certainly we are familiar with people taking yoga classes or meditation classes and having no clue as to the root belief systems that gave rise to them.  We might like certain kinds of music that have a gospel and soul feeling to them and yet have no idea about the role this music played in people’s lives in generations past.  We enjoy paintings and sculpture and architecture as if we were anthropologists visiting a bygone time. 12 step programs offer community and confession and refer to a  higher power, but certainly a non-creedal power and one that is open to each person’s interpretation.  Movies often have themes of supernatural forces that need to be obeyed.  Science fiction entertains with mythical, ageless battles between good and evil.  Ethically, I think, most people would ascribe to the golden rule, i.e. “Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you.”  Psychologically, people have been clued into looking for the unknown forces that guide their lives, including the interpretation of dreams and symbols.  All of these derive from our storehouse of faith, yet maintain little or no memory or connection to our faith.

It seems that organized religion has been “picked over” and assimilated into culture.  Somehow it feels like the keepers of the store have gone on  vacation and allowed a wholesale looting (a recurring biblical theme). Without the “store” the culture would have been poorer indeed. But I believe, with the “store” intact and operational, there is a profoundly
greater good available in the apostolic gathering, than in the disjointed exercise of the individual parts.

Each piece is less than the whole.  Each piece, as beautiful and important as it may be, misses the beauty, the depth and the power of the original vision.  Our  gospel calls for nothing less than the authentic transformation of individuals and society.  Our gospel speaks about the eternal verities of life and death and how to find meaning, love, joy and justice and community in this world.  When faithfully practiced, our religion is a powerful witness to God’s love and compassion for humankind.  We have been entrusted with symbols and teachings that can enliven the imagination, expand the soul, and ennoble the will.

The vision of Jesus and Paul and the Apostles was nothing less than a universal vision; a tearing down of every barrier that divides us from each other, our selves and our God.  This vision is built on the power of the resurrection, which saw God’s will as inviting every person to the same banquet table of grace and love. Their vision and their life was based on the belief that heaven was indeed being made manifest on earth. Their task was to make this process conscious.

Perhaps God has a dialectical way of operating.  Those in power always seem to lose their vision.  Indeed, each generation and each of us from time to  time loses it!  It may look like God has disappeared, but I believe God is always seeking “new wine skins” to inhabit and in so doing calls the rich and the poor, the powerful and the weak to the same joyous banquet of love and justice that is symbolically prefigured in our Eucharist.

I invite each of you to the joyful celebration of the Eucharist, the celebration of the inbreaking of God’s reign here on earth as it is in heaven.

Woe be it unto me if I don’t preach the gospel.”  Did Paul mean that he would be struck down from heaven if he didn’t preach?  Or did he just feel that there was something inside of him that would implode or explode if he resisted this inner calling?

Although I find myself in various places in the course of the summer, I feel a great necessity to be centered by the regular celebration of the Word and Sacraments as found in our worship.  The freedom that vacation and summer brings is never without the need to refresh my connection to the Creator and in so doing my connection to myself and others.  

It may be that it is summertime and the living is easy.  But I sense an inner malaise (woe) if there is not a gathering of the community to participate in the presence of Christ.  I pray that wherever you are, you will find a place to worship and celebrate the presence of God with us.  And if you are in town, it would be wonderful to see you here with us.

Remember, wherever you go, there you are and so is our God.