Ascension: Journey of the Heart

Sermon preached  at the Regional Confirmation Service 

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Pittsfield, MA   

Feast of the Ascension 5-17-12

by Lee Cheek, Lay Preacher, St. James Episcopal Church, Great Barrington, MA

Peace be with you, Friends of God!   Peace be with you, (Bishop) Gordon, Hannah and Jennie! Peace be with you, candidates for confirmation and reception into this Communion!  And peace be with you, mentors, sponsors, friends and families!

15 years ago, May 4, 1997, on the Sunday afternoon before Ascension Day, Gordon confirmed me and received several others at Grace Church, Dalton, less than a year into his tenure as our bishop.  Tonight some of you will be confirmed by him in this, the final year of his tenure.  

As I recall, most of the service that afternoon was somewhat of a blur to me.  But the one thing I remember was the weight of Gordon’s hands on my head.  The weight was sure and firm—certainly much more sure and firm than my understanding at that time of the strange and complex vocation of being a follower of Christ—which is what I want to speak about this evening.

So I am grateful, Gordon, for that palpable firmness on my head and the assuredness it communicated to me that the project I was signing up for was Love’s project and it was Real.  Real with a capital “R”, even though it has taken me over ten years to appreciate just how Real it is and just how stunningly difficult it is to remember I am actually a part of it.  

Understanding this project and my part in it is the foundation for what I understand to be the Christian vocation.  And it is this: that Love (for God is Love) desires my agency in its world and there is no part of my life that Love does not desire to be in charge.  

That Love (for God is Love) wants me (even ME!) to be its agent in the world of my life and there is no part of my life where Love does not desire to be in charge.  

And this I know, and in this I place my hope for the world, because of the life, death, and resurrection of a young rabbi two thousand years ago and the witness of his followers who eventually learned to read the troubles of the world through his eyes. 

I say “eventually” because their new understanding of his life which became the foundation for their true vocation began when they encountered a dead man now strangely and fully alive, who greeted them with ‘Peace’ and let them  know that their cowardice and betrayal had simply no effect on his continued love for them!    Joy!

Through the eyes of this Forgiving Victim, they began to understand the scriptures, law, and history of their people—a people who had been called since Abraham to use the subversive power of forgiveness and mercy to organize and unite themselves with one another, rather than to exercise the temporary unifying powers of human sacrifice, whether cultic, spontaneous, or conveniently “lawful.”

Sadly and tragically today, human group cohesion and security is still being achieved far too often in the same murderous way.

So what does this strange picture of “ascension” of the state-crucified and God-resurrected Jesus have to do with our vocation as Christians?  What does this text have to say to us tonight, we professed members of a shrinking, yet still world-wide communion of those who long for restorative love and rescue from our entanglement with the powers that rule us by fear?

First of all, let us say that the picture of the Forgiving Victim rising to take his place on the throne beside the Ancient of Days is not a fanciful or pretty picture of Jesus’ cloud-ride to heaven which we also might get when we die if we have tried to be as good as Jesus or made a lot of public noise about how great we think Jesus is.

It was, rather, for Luke’s community, a picture of the removal of the veil of separation of Heaven (God’s place) from Earth.  Any Temple Jew of the time would have understood the significance of the image.  The Temple which had been the place of holy intersection between Heaven (God’s dimension) and Earth (humankind’s dimension) could now be anywhere—two miles away, over in Bethany!  Or in Pittsfield, or in your home or your body.  In short, wherever we are!

Because the point is that the connecting pathway to the place of holy intersection is accessible from anywhere, for it is the pathway for the journey of the heart.[i]

In addition, the image of the aforementioned cloud should be read as the traditional symbol for the presence of God, like the cloud pillar of Yahweh that guided the Israelites in the wilderness.   So this says something to us, too, about the identity of the Forgiving Victim as God himself—the One who has a claim on us and on whom no human can have any claim.

It was for them, and is for us, a picture full of hope in the understanding that Love (for God is Love) really is ultimately in charge—not the Caesars of this world whose claim on us is not ultimate.

You see, the manipulation of our allegiance, which is the giving of our hearts and minds, is where evil does its work in the world.  And the work of the church in the world is to ask the hard questions about whose lives and dignity are at risk in any human endeavor and in any human encounter in our homes, schools, our workplaces, and our institutions, especially our churches.  For it is a hopeless world indeed if the Caesars of our world and their collaborators are ultimately in charge of our souls.  

This is how it must have felt for the disciples when it looked like the restoration of Israel had seemed to fail for them with Jesus’ state ordered execution.  They couldn’t see that their ideas—like many of our own today—about salvation from the world’s evils were pretty much limited to getting rid of the bad guys violently or securing their identity of goodness with moralistic pride and self-righteousness.  

The powers that discount, degrade and devalue other human beings, especially their enemies, were still in charge of their souls, even though they had been following for three years a man who had challenged every current idea of kingdom, sacred or secular, that was established by exclusion.

What I love about the Ascension event is the joy when they learned how wrong they had been about who was really in charge and what was going to save their world.  Their story continues in us today, because it is only in this process of being wrong and being forgiven that any of us has a chance to understand and embrace our part in God’s great project of rescuing us from our own violence towards one another.

Even though we are disinclined much of the time to being wrong about something or someone, isn’t it a mercy when we can finally let go of the lie and relax into the truth?  And when we are relaxed, are we not less inclined to resort to returning tit for tat, or hitting back?  Less inclined to spread lies and rumors to shore up our goodness?  Less inclined to demonize others? 

Using the language of Ascension, we could say it this way:  anytime we can let ourselves be wrong about someone or something and relax into the truth is the moment when Love’s throne room moves into our lives.

And that, my friends, brings us back to what we are doing here this evening in this splendid space with the beautiful liturgy and traditions lovingly crafted by the saints before us and the saints among us now.  For each of them began their individual, personal journey with the hope to which each disciple is called:  that Love is indeed in charge of the world and that Love’s Spirit of Truth will be in us and among us and always for us and for the world.

So in my attempt to use the Ascension event to say something about our vocations as Christians, I hope you have some sense this evening that Love desires each one of us to be Love’s agents in the world, and that there is no place in our lives where Love does not desire to be in charge. 

Candidates, I hope for you that the weight of Gordon’s hands on your head will help you remember your acceptance into this strange vocation[ii] in a world that values a different kind of power.  

And for all of us here this evening, I hope that when Gordon stretches out his arms in his inimitable and memorable way at the end of our service, we will remember that we are loved and blessed into this vocation.  In his gesture, let us take in the hope for us in Christ’s Blessing.  It is how the disciples returned to Jerusalem with great joy.  May you return to your own Jerusalems with great joy, too.[iii]  

AMEN.

---

[i] Joseph Ratzinger, in part two of his Jesus of Nazarath (San Francisco:  Ignatius Press, 2011), described the path that the ascending Christ opens to us is “not a matter of space travel of a cosmic-geographical nature:  it is the “space travel” of the heart, from the dimension of self-enclosed isolation to the new dimension of world-embracing divine love.” (p. 286)

[ii] On the Christian vocation, Rowan Williams writes:  “In his faithful and obedient relation to the Father, Jesus sketches a new and comprehensive vocation for human beings.  So to come to be ‘in Christ’ , to belong with Jesus, involves a far-reaching reconstruction of one’s humanity:  a liberation from servile, distorted, destructive patterns in the past, liberation from anxious dread of God’s judgement, a new identity in a community of reciprocal love and complementary service, whose potentials are universal.”  (from the essay “Trinity and Revelation” in Williams’ On Christian Theology, Blackwell, 2000).

[iii] The preacher is indebted to the following authors for much of her reflection on Ascension: James Alison in Raising Abel (Crossroad, 1996) and The Joy of Being Wrong (Crossroad, 1998);  N.T. Wright in How God Became King (Harper, 2012) and Surprised by Hope (Harper, 2008). 

A Sermon preached June 3, 2012, Trinity Sunday B

by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector

It’s Trinity Sunday, the great day of glory and wonder when we celebrate the way

we’ve come to speak of God as “One God in Three Persons”—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—Blessed Trinity.

What a glorious day in our Christian faith! What a monumental day and weekend for us here! We have a new Bishop-Elect Doug Fisher! We’ll be looking forward to his ordination in Springfield on December 1.And today we will choose a new name for our consolidated parish! So in addition to being this great feast of the glory of our Triune God, it is and will be a New Day for this “Episcopal Community in the Southern Berkshires” and for the Diocese of Western Massachusetts. So, we need to be thinking about what that New Day will look like? What is our mission in the New Day? What will prepare us to meet the challenge of the New Day?

I believe through these years in the wilderness, the Holy Spirit has guarded us and guided us to this place in amazing ways, and we can learn from our experience.

We’ve learned to Trust God the Father, the One who creates us and calls us his beloved children. It’s clear that God hasn’t let go of us so far, so we have no reason to fear that God would let go of us in the future. We’ve learned we’re never alone,

because Jesus, the Son, our companion, our brother, our shepherd, is with us always…even to the end of the age. In his being with us through our joys, pain and grief, we’re learning that God loves us unconditionally. God takes us just as we are. Our faults, sins, and weaknesses are redeemed and then used to the Glory of God.  In these years, we’ve learned to recognize more and more that the Holy Spirit is with us, giving us courage and joy, making us longsuffering and loving, and deepening our faith. We’ve been learning how to listen for God’s voice in Holy Scripture, in one another, and in the wider community. We’ve been learning to notice and pay attention to the way the Spirit nudges us…Often/usually in ways we could never anticipate.

It’s important for us to remember these ways our Triune God has been with us as we think about what the future consolidated parish might look like. What is God calling us to do? Where is God calling us to join in God’s mission, during this time of great transition in the Church and the world?  How can we—who are created and loved by the Father, reconciled by the Son, and empowered by the Holy Spirit—be more ready to begin this adventure of being a New Church, with a new name, and a new bishop, in a world that is increasingly secular?

         

It’s a world full of people who are hungry for the very love, reconciliation, and empowerment that our Triune God so generously offers; yet they are people who have no idea that God is the real source of all they truly need and deeply desire. They don’t know God’s love, reconciliation, and empowerment are theirs for the asking. I think we are uniquely positioned to get that message to them because of the way we have survived, thrived, and come together and because of the way we love one another and reach out across boundaries with unconditional love.  

So what can help us be prepared to spread this Good News in our community today? I think we can look at today’s Isaiah passage (about his call to serve God)

for some important clues. In fact, in this story, we can find a pattern to follow as we move forward to answer God’s call. First, this mystical vision happens to Isaiah

while he’s in the temple, during a time of great transition…It’s “The year (long-reigning) King Uzziah died.”Times of transition are stressful. They make us vulnerable and especially open to the Spirit, creativity, experimentation, and new life!

Isaiah is transported to the very throne of God, to the very presence of God. God’s train/robe fills the temple as he sits “high and lofty” on the throne! And seraphims, strange, six-winged creatures, are flying all around singing “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts.” Just try to imagine it! We’re praying here at Crissey Farm, during this year of great transition…In the year that Gordon Scruton retired. In the year Saints James and George consolidated. In the year Doug Fisher was elected bishop. Like Isaiah we’re vulnerable and open to the Spirit, when all of a sudden we’re somehow in the very Presence of God!

Annie Dillard writes (Holy the Firm),

“Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews…For the sleeping God may awake someday and take offense, or the waking God may draw us out to where we can never return.”

For Isaiah it was such holy ground that the place shook and was filled with smoke…perhaps with the fragrance of God’s very self!

Now what happens here is so important…

          Confronted with God’s Holiness,

                    Confronted with the very Truth,

                             Confronted with the source of Goodness,

Isaiah’s response is to see everything clearly, and to admit his and the world’s truth: He, and the world, are “lost” and have “unclean lips”.

In the Presence of the Truth, Isaiah is spiritually convicted and confesses his brokenness. He seems amazed that even in his own fallen state, he’s actually allowed in the Presence of God. (How could God love a sinner like me?) And then what happens? A seraphim touches his mouth with a hot coal and says, “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.”  Isaiah confessed his sins, and he’s absolved!

After that, Isaiah is able to hear the Lord’s call, and he’s empowered to respond:

          “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”

Isaiah says simply,  “Here am I; send me!”

What happens with Isaiah in this story of his call is actually the classic pattern for reconciliation. This is what I think can inform and equip us at this transitional time in our diocese and our church, so that we are able to hear and respond wholeheartedly to God’s call to us.

When we are in the presence of Goodness, Love, the Holy, the Truth, we can see our own truth clearly and confess it, all of it…our shortcomings and grief, the bad things we’ve done, and the good things we’ve left undone. The way we wish the world would be, but isn’t. The way we resist surrendering our illusions of control, that keep us from “Letting go and letting God”. Having admitted the truth about ourselves (no more and no less than we are), we can receive absolution. Our guilt is departed, and our sin is blotted out. Then we can hear and fully embrace the call, the mission, the works of love and service that God will call us to do.

This pattern of reconciliation that’s part of Isaiah’s call is essential for us as we move forward into the New Day that’s dawning.  And we can approach this with confidence because we are loved by the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

                                                         Amen. 

A sermon preached by the Rev. Meredyth Ward on June 2, 2012

at Christ Church Cathedral, Springfield, MA

on the occasion of the election of our Ninth Bishop

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts, be always acceptable to you, O Lord our Rock and our salvation.

My name is Meredyth Ward.  I am President of the Standing Committee here in the Diocese, and I serve at Church of the Epiphany in Wilbraham.  The bishop and I are sharing the sermon this morning. 

A little more than a week ago we were blessed to have the candidates for bishop with us in the Diocese.  One of the places we brought the candidates was the Museum of Russian Icons in Clinton.  Thursday afternoon, near the end of a long week, we had the opportunity to stop and pray and surround ourselves with beauty.  We were all a bit tired and worn, and we were deeply grateful for the opportunity for quiet rest and refreshment.

One of my favorite icons at the museum pictures an old monk at prayer.  He’s holding a sheaf of papers, or maybe a scroll, but that’s not what has his attention.  He’s looking at the upper corner of the icon, where there is a tiny image of the nativity.  There’s Mary and Joseph and the baby, a being covered in so much gold that it could only be an angel, and, in the back, in the midst of a group of figures there is a miniature image of the monk himself.  He was so immersed in praying the text, so transformed by the experience of meditation, that he himself was fully present at the Incarnation, fully participating in the mystery of the Word made flesh.

One of the things about icons is that while they are pictures, when we use them in prayer we’re not supposed to focus on the image itself.  They are often beautiful.  Some of them are even encrusted with silver filigree and jewels.  But rather than looking AT the icons, we are supposed to look THROUGH them, in order to see God.  They are spiritual windows—windows into mystery.  The surface is lovely, but we are asked, no, CALLED, to look through them into the deep mystery of God.

Over the past few weeks we have been engaged in a process of coming to know the candidates for bishop.  We have read their profiles, as they have read ours.  We have checked out websites and read blog entries and sermons and resumes.  They have been looking at ours as well. But our task and theirs has been to see beyond the words and images, and like the monk at prayer in my favorite icon, come into the presence of the Word made flesh, and see the presence of God and God’s work among us.

It is not easy to hear God’s voice clearly.  In our first lesson today, Samuel knew that SOMEONE was calling him, but he wasn’t quite sure about who or how or why.  He needed the help of Eli, his mentor and friend, in order to be certain that it was God’s voice that he heard.

All of our candidates for bishop have been called by God.  Some, like Samuel, heard God’s voice as a child.  Others became attuned to God’s voice later in life.  But no matter when they heard the voice of God, there is no doubt that they are beloved of God and are called to God’s service.  They have answered the call before.  Like all of us they were marked as Christ’s own forever in Baptism.  They tested their call again as they were ordained deacon and then priest.  At each step along the way there were others, friends and family and mentors and community members, who helped them hear and understand their call.  “This is what I hear God saying to me—does this match what you see and hear?”

Whatever the outcome today, it is likely that one or more of these fine priests will be ordained a bishop someday.  They are gifted, prayerful and dynamic.  They have prayed and studied and thought and hoped.  They’ve even convinced their spouses that this bishop thing might at least be an OK idea.  The question before us, though, is not should they be bishops, but which one is called to be OUR bishop, HERE in Western Massachusetts, at THIS time in our history.

Our task today is to prayerfully cooperate with the Holy Spirit.  We are called to view these candidates the way we view icons.  Our task is to open our eyes to see THROUGH these priests to God’s presence within them.  We are asked to focus not the on the surface of the words they have written and spoken, nor on their style of speech or appearance, but to see THROUGH these to notice what God would have us know of them.

One of these candidates is to be our shepherd.  One will be chosen not only to plead with the Lord of the Harvest on our behalf, but to help us learn to recognize the harvest which is all around us.  We need fresh eyes.  We need fresh ears.  We need a fresh heart.

We need these, but not because we have been without a shepherd.  We all know that that is not true.  We have been blessed with a shepherd who knows us and has had compassion on us.  One who knows our names and the names of our children and grandchildren.  One who loves us and has rejoiced at our joys and wept at our sorrows.  One who has held us in prayer and will continue to do so, long after he retires.

So we know what it is like to have a good shepherd.  What we need to be careful about is confusing the PERSON of the shepherd with the work of God WITHIN the shepherd.  Looking at the icon itself, rather than looking through it to see the work of God in our midst.

In the next few hours we are embarking on a work of mystery.  We ask the Holy Spirit to be with us, to change our hearts, to challenge our assumptions, to lift our hopes and encourage us to embrace new possibilities.  There are new pastures to be tended, new harvests to explore, new voices to hear and new visions to capture.  All for the love of God.  All for the work of the Kingdom.  All as a glimpse of the Incarnation.  All as a vision of the love and work of God among us that will drop us to our knees in prayer and send us out in love and service.

A Sermon Preached May 27, 2012, Pentecost Sunday

by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector

The story of Pentecost, the coming of the Holy Spirit, as it’s told in the Book of Acts, is so full of vivid images and energy! It’s obvious…

Something really different is going on here!

Jesus’ followers were in Jerusalem, “All together in one place”. It was the Jewish Feast of Pentecost, or the Feast of Weeks, 50 days after Passover. It’s when the first-fruits of the corn harvest were traditionally presented, and later it’s the celebration of the giving of the Law.

But that year, on that Jewish Feast Day, there’s the rush of a violent wind that fills the entire house. ‘Sounds like a cyclone or something blowing through it! Although the house is filled with the rush of this great wind, somehow Jesus’ followers live to tell about it!

And then there’s those tongues “as of fire”—Divided tongues that rest on the disciples. I have no idea even how to speak of that, but Acts tells us, “All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit.” Then they begin that mysterious speaking in other languages, the sound of which drew the Pentecost crowds to them. The words of these Galileans were somehow understood by everyone, no matter where they came from or what language they spoke. What a turn of usual events…Instead of dismissing each other because they can’t understand each other, their different languages or points of view, people—coming from different directions, different countries, different places— somehow understand each other! Instead of their languages being confused, as they are in the Older Testament story of the Tower of Babel, their languages become comprehensible! Surely this is a glimpse of the Kingdom of God that the Holy Spirit offered on that Pentecost day. Contemplative Franciscan Richard Rohr calls Pentecost, “The day of the great outpouring of fire-laden love.”

It’s really hard to imagine all this…The wind rush. The tongues of fire. The languages. Maybe if we’d been there, we’d initially join the skeptics and say they must be drunk (or high); but I’d hope we could also then really hear the words of Peter in his bold Pentecost speech, when he reminds us of the prophecy that God will pour out God’s Spirit on all flesh. Just imagine that for a moment…What would it look like or feel like for God to be pouring out the Spirit? I can imagine it sort of washing over us in a big, cleansing whoosh, and washing away all in us that is not of God, that is not of Love, and that is not of Truth. Then we’d be filled with the Spirit. 

Let’s not forget the rest of that phrase, “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh.”

God’s gift of the cleansing Spirit of Love is for absolutely everyone—ALL FLESH! “Your sons and daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit and they shall prophesy. “So we’re reminded again that God loves everyone God has made. God has made us all good, and God desires to bless and empower each person on this earth by pouring out the Spirit! Thinking of that makes it really hard to decide or defend the idea that we Christians/Episcopalians somehow have the corner on the spiritual market.

God will pour out God’s Spirit on all flesh!

Since this great pouring of the Holy Spirit took place on the Jewish Feast of Pentecost, the Christian Church eventually appropriated the name “Pentecost.” So we use “Pentecost” to commemorate this coming of the Holy Spirit as it’s described in Acts. We also consider Pentecost “The Birthday of the Church” because the coming of the Holy Spirit is what empowered Jesus’ followers to go out in mission and ministry. They are fortified with the Spirit of Love and Truth; and they know they are heirs of a tradition of dying and rising, of trusting God and one another, of believing Love is stronger than death, and of knowing they are not alone. They are blessed with the Fruits of the Spirit, which include (Galatians): Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance.

So here today at Crissey Farm in 2012, it is still the Holy Spirit that empowers us to go out in mission and ministry. It’s why the group of people gathered here today is essentially different from, say, some kind of club—even a club that does good works. We’re a group of people called to listen to and understand each other, even if we’re coming from different places. We’re a group of people who recognizes God loves and gifts each person…all flesh…not just a few.

We are here today as two congregations on the verge of courageously consolidating and becoming a new parish, because we believe that as Jesus died and rose again, so also will we. We believe the gospels when they say, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” (MT 16:25)

Because we are learning to really trust God and to trust that the Spirit is with us,

We as St. James and St. George are stepping out in faith, exhibiting some of those spiritual fruits of love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance.

Something really different is going on here!

And I hope we realize that!

God has poured out the Spirit here in a lavish whoosh! I hope we recognize that, and I hope we are really learning to expect that. The “great outpouring of fire-laden love” is here for us now! Today! Everyday! Our job right now is to vividly and energetically testify to these things in all that we are, all that we say, and all that we do. Amen

What’s in a Name?

A Sermon/Address given Sunday, May 20, 2012 Easter 7 B 2012

by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector and Vicar

  

In the name of the One who longs for us to be one, Amen.

Yesterday our St. George Executive Committee and St. James Vestry met in a prayerful retreat. We took care of the monthly business, and had a good discussion about Stewardship. We were glad to learn that our thoughts on stewardship really dovetail with the work the Ad Hoc Committee is doing right now to try to balance our budget. Then we turned our attention and prayer to the suggestions we received for our new name.

‘Just for our information, Rick Gore had gone on-line and gotten a list of the most widely used names of Episcopal Churches in the U.S. (in order of popularity). He gave all of us a copy, which we skimmed, mostly out of curiosity, then pretty much set aside. 

Many had come to the discussion with some clear preferences, but over the course of our conversations together, several changed their minds. . . Not because they were pressured, but because the Holy Spirit was working among us as we faithfully tried to discern the best choices. Some came to the meeting with several favorite choices, and I can honestly say, we all left with a strong confidence in the final list of names.  Not unlike the Bishop Search Committee, everyone had the sense that they could support any of the choices. 

As we talked, it came clear we want a name that told a story about who we are, and a name that somehow captures something about the congregation we hope to become—something we can grow into over time. Perhaps a name that’s more about what we do and how we act than what we believe theologically. It should be a name that’s appealing to the ear. It shouldn’t need an explanation; however, it would be a name that could be explained in depth.   

We also talked about the importance of a name that would be inviting and inclusive of other Episcopalians in South County, if in the future they decide to join us. The name should also be inviting and not a mystery to the many people in South County who are non-religious (So, we’d avoid a theological name like “Atonement,” which requires knowledge of Christian theology; and we’d avoid names of saints, which require some Biblical or church history training to have any meaning.)

We talked about the importance of using the word “Community” because it refers to relationship, something all people want and need. It indicates both our congregation as a community and also our mindfulness and concern for the community we live in. Someone had suggested, “Community of Grace,” but we realized that could too easily sound like a monastic order.

We talked about using “Episcopal” in the title or not.  It’s important to attract Episcopalians who may be new to the area or just visiting—People who are specifically looking for an Episcopal church. However for some people, a main-line denomination’s name is a “turn-off”. . .  ‘Sounds like grandma’s church”.

With all these things in our hearts and minds, we initially settled on two names…“Church of the Holy Spirit” and “Grace Church”.

Holy Spirit—

Although this is the third person of the Trinity, so very “theological” the word “spirit” is something non-religious people know about; and “holy” is something we may all long (at least subconsciously) to experience more of in this increasingly secular world. The Holy Spirit has brought us together, guided us through this incredible time, and we pray that the Holy Spirit will continue to guide our mission and work. It acknowledges how we have been learning to trust the movement of the Spirit more and more in our lives, and how we hope that will be even more true in the future.

Grace Church—

Grace is a pure gift from God. It’s not earned or deserved. It’s just showered upon us. So it is by grace that we are here today, together. Through these many, sometimes really difficult, years for both Sts. James and George, both congregations (separately and together) have experienced showers of grace. It is grace that has kept us going and hopeful. It is grace that has kept us together.  It is grace that will lead us into the future. Grace is a word that’s clearly meaningful to Christians, but it’s also freely used in the secular world; so it holds the promise of something most people (churched or unchurched) would like to experience. It’s not something they would avoid.  When we got to “Grace,” we had quite a discussion about finding a name that’s unique to the region. We decided it was not essential. (There is Grace Episcopal Church in Dalton, and other Grace churches in the diocese.) 

So after we got the two names, then we decided to add the “tag line” or “subtitle” of: “An Episcopal Community in the Southern Berkshires”.

Although we’d not pre-determined how many names to present to you,

We discovered yesterday we really wanted at least three names. So we went back into discussion and prayer, but nothing seemed to come clear. We “tried on” several others, but they just “didn’t fit”.

Maybe it’s just these two?

Then Lee Cheek suggested we just take a time of silence. After awhile in silence, I asked God to show us the way: Are these two it/or is there another?  Then Doug Happ spontaneously said he would read aloud the top 50 names on the list that Rick brought, excluding the saints’ names, just to see if anything “jumped out” for us. 

All Angels—

With this reading, “All Angels” surfaced for many in the group. (Remember “All Angels” was on the list you suggested initially, but we’d not even discussed it yesterday until this point.)  Then I shared a couple of stories about this name.

One many of you know because Pennie Curry told it in church one day, but before that, she told it one night to our Bible study group…

One day last year Pennie and Taft Farm owner, Dan Tawczynski, were at Taft Farms talking about St. James. Raquel, one of the Hispanic employees,

Diego’s mother (some of you know little Diego from our garden), was nearby. Raquel chimed in, “Oh, I know St. James…that’s the church where all the angels fly around…so many people doing such loving things for children and hungry people in the community.” When Pennie told that story, the energy in the room seemed to really gather. It felt like the Holy Spirit was there.

The other story is one that happened a year ago at Easter…

I was talking with a friend, a clergy person in another diocese, about St. James and St. George and how we worshiped together. Out of the blue, the friend said an image had come to his mind of the two angels in the empty tomb. (This is part of the Resurrection story in the Gospel of Luke: When the women went in the tomb, there were two men in “dazzling clothes” who ask, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”) After we sat with this in silent prayer yesterday, we decided to add “All Angels” to the list.

So here are the three names you will be voting on come June 3:

Church of the Holy Spirit

An Episcopal Community in the Southern Berkshires

Grace Church

An Episcopal Community in the Southern Berkshires

All Angels

An Episcopal Community in the Southern Berkshires

It’s not lost on me that today’s story in Acts is all about discernment. The 11 are choosing a new 12^th Apostle to replace Judas. So they pray,

“Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these (two) you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship.”

People of St. James and St. George, please pray and ponder these three

names for our new church, so when we vote on June 3, we will select the one God has already chosen for us, as we begin these next 250 years.

Amen. 

A Sermon Preached March 25, 2012 at Crissey Farm

by the Rev. Ted Cobden

Lent 5 B ~ John 12:20-33

“Leadership”

The hour has come”...now is the time…”for the Son of Man to be glorified.” Each time I read this passage, I marvel at Jesus and his authority, his sense of who he is and what he is about. Here he is at the turning point in his ministry. He is heading to the cross. He feels the horror and terror of the path. Yet he is in control. He holds on to his vision and conviction. He is showing us what leadership is about.

When we see Jesus at these moments, we marvel at his authority and leadership. But let us not suppose we are here merely to observe Jesus and to cheer him on. As if Jesus were running in an arena, and we were in the stands applauding him. He says to us “Whoever serves me must follow me. Or as Mark has it: “If any want to become my

followers, let them take up their cross and follow me.” He is pointing to us; calling each of us by name. “Come down from the bleachers; join me in the way of the cross. He wants us to share his vision. To be followers of him and to be leaders ourselves. That is a paradox. The follower of Jesus is a leader. He calls us to lead by learning from his way of leading.

The first thing we notice about his leadership style is that he is clear about his goal. He is going to confront the powers and dominions of this world. Those forces which are messing up God’s people and God’s creation: making people narrow-minded, dividing people into hostile groups, splintering people into self-absorbed bubbles. Those forces which bring fear and darkness. Forces of oppression, addiction and degradation. Jesus enters into the very center of this black hole of evil to show that the ultimate power is light and life. Truth. Selfless love. Irrepressible justice.

One of the reasons we worship regularly is to keep this goal in front of us. This goal of being free of fear because we believe light will shine out of darkness, fairness will prevail, forgiveness heals broken relationships. During the week this vision can easily be distorted. We come back to it in worship to embrace the vision afresh.

So Jesus models leadership for us first because he is clear about his goal and purpose. The second way he models leadership is that he demonstrates the way he achieves the goal. He sees the immensity of the undertaking, and he steps forward into the horrendous struggle. He admits, “Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say- ‘Father, save me from this hour?’ No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour.” He knows the pain and the desperate lonesomeness he will experience. But he steps forward toward the cross.

Those of us who follow Jesus have walked in the way of the cross. Not to the scale and depth of Jesus. But we have experienced loss and sorrow. On occasion we have stood for the hard right against the easy wrong.

What we found as we walked the way of the cross was that we were not alone. The risen Jesus was with us. The friends of Jesus were with us. The power of God was with us. With that support we came to newness of life.

That's how the goal is accomplished--with that support.

That is the third aspect of leadership Jesus demonstrates. Not only does a good leader have a clear objective and demonstrate the way to achieve the goal, the leader comes along side those he or she is leading.

Christ is with us as he was with the disciples on the way to Emmaus.

I have seen you going along side others who were struggling on the way of the cross. I have seen you being the hands of Christ. Even more importantly Christ has seen you as you cared for others. The risen one says, “I have seen you standing beside those who were being discriminated against. I have seen you holding the month old infant in the Ghana orphanage. I have seen you bringing teenagers to learn to serve others at Breaking Bread Kitchen.

“Whoever serves me,” says Jesus, “must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.” The Gospel for today show us Jesus as our leader. He is clear about his vision. He shows us the way to step forward and achieve the goal. And as with the best of leaders he comes along side of us to help us. To help us be steadfast in keeping our vision of the way of the cross. He empowers us to achieve our vision as he comes beside us on the way, the way to Emmaus, the way of the compassionate rule of God.

Edging Into the Light

Sermon preached by Lee Cheek, Lay Preacher, Christ Church Episcopal/Trinity Lutheran Church, Sheffield, MA, Lent 4B 3-18-12

If only the world knew of you! If only the world knew what got you up this morning and brought you here!

Could you tell the world of your desire to be governed by love rather than fear? Could you speak of your desire to hear something deeply and profoundly liberating in the Scriptures?

Could you speak of your desire to give your heart over to The One who truly “likes” you and is “for” you and everyone else?

Could you, could I, speak of our desire to step out of the darkness of getting our security and good feelings about ourselves at the expense of others? Could we confess our deep longing to step out of the darkness of cheap togetherness purchased with the humiliation, demonization, torture, and murder of other human beings?

Well, I think these desires, or desires like these, were some of the same ones that drove Nicodemus, a high-ranking priest of Jerusalem to visit Jesus under the cover of night. It is this nocturnal encounter that immediately precedes today's gospel. It sets up John’s expanded discourse on how Jesus will make explicit once and for all what God’s intentions for the Hebrew people—and indeed for the whole world—had been along: to love us out of our propensity to become very dangerous to each other when our desire for mammon becomes greater than our desire to love God and others.

In 2006, John and I heard North Carolina Episcopal Bishop Michael Curry say that he believed that Nicodemus was the first Episcopalian. He said he was absolutely convinced of that because—and I know you Lutherans will love this—because “only Episcopalians would try to come to Jesus, quietly, at night, when nobody was looking.”[1] (That’s the truth, isn’t it?)

Anyway, in the Fourth Gospel, Nicodemus appears only three times. And I like to think these three slender appearances provide a clue to the Fourth Evangelists’ own spiritual journey because they are slight yet potent, and just a little off-stage. Just the thing a biographer might slip in to disclose his own witness.

Nicodemus’s story (which could be the beloved disciple’s story, or even your story or my story) is the story of being gradually enabled to step out of the darkness and into the light. Out of the darkness of using power over someone else to cover one’s insecurities. And into the light with those who are powerless because they are excluded, suspected, maltreated, oppressed, and reviled.[2]

Nicodemus already knows a lot about such things. He’s a member of an authoritative group of priests and Pharisees to whom the temple police report. Yet he has been impressed by the signs Jesus does, and he tells Jesus he sees the presence of God in them. Now isn’t that interesting?

So sensing Nicodemus’ desire to be closer to God, which means that he would prefer to be in God’s kingdom sooner rather than later, Jesus tells him he must be born of the Spirit.

Then Nicodemus seems to disappear off the page as the Fourth Evangelist begins the long discourse we heard this morning. If you remember, it begins with a peculiar story about one way of dealing with the human tendency to start looking for a scapegoat when the going gets rough, like it did when the Israelites ran out of food and water.

Imagine what life was like for Moses! He had to organize over a half million people over several decades to move from one place to another in order to forge their identity as the people of God. Of course there was grumbling, in-fighting, jealousies, pettiness, violence, and lots of murmuring. And this story, which we heard earlier, is the fifth and final such “murmuring” story in the Book of Numbers.

Really, it is amazing that Moses lived as long as he did! Because it is human vindictiveness and spitefulness that is so colorfully and aptly represented by the biting, fiery serpents. Human vindictiveness and spitefulness that ends up coalescing to blame Moses, and for the first time, God.

A major distraction is needed, so God gives Moses instructions to wave a staff with a bronze serpent “to cure” them of the bites they have in reality inflicted upon each other and have begun to inflict on Moses.

They are magically distracted—perhaps because the coiled bronze serpent reminds them of the cobra on Pharoah’s headgear. Fearful fascination can be a powerful diversion for a little while, but clearly by the time King Hezekiah throws it out of the 1^st Temple[3], it is no longer working.

So what the Fourth Evangelist is telling us with this reference is that something more real than a bronze serpent will be lifted up in order to show the world that its fake unity and peace is always bought with the blood of innocent victims.

The “Something Real” that will be lifted up will be an innocent man. An innocent man at a particular moment of apocalyptic crisis in first-century Judea who will show his love for the world by yielding in compassion, non-retaliation, and non-violence to the brutal reality of a Roman execution on a cross, brought on by the fear and guilt of the temple priesthood and supported by the mob rule of a ginned-up resentful, occupied people.

You see, it is terrifically difficult for we human beings to realize our complicity in purchasing our power, goodness, and security at the expense of others until someone who is completely free to love us and be for us freely steps into the vortex of our wrath.

At no point will this innocent man ask God to avenge him and even more unexpectedly in a moment of radiant transcendence, he forgives everyone in his last breaths. In such a moment of transcendent forgiveness and compassion even the cruelest of persecutors can learn to humble herself and renounce her vengeful passion. Such love could only come from God and indeed, this innocent victim will be recognized as God himself.

But let us return to our friend Nicodemus, who after the speech we heard today is not even granted an exit. We meet him next in chapter 7 when the temple police are reporting back to the chief priests and Pharisees about not having arrested Jesus as ordered. They declare in their defense that never has anyone spoken like Jesus. Curious…

Nicodemus, a member of this group, offers this: “Our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?” Small, sure, truthful, edging into the light. Though we don’t know for sure, this may be his first public witness to the truth of what is unfolding in Jerusalem and what is simultaneously unfolding in his heart.

The last time we meet Nicodemus, he is with Joseph of Arimathea at the burial of Jesus.

Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews.

So simple. So relaxed. So non-hurried. Nicodemus, in the daylight, living out in full view the truth of his conversion to trusting and believing with his whole heart in the power of the love that brought him back to a life in the light. He oils and wraps the body of the man who drank the cup of our wrath to its dregs. He oils and wraps the body of the man whose powerlessness and weakness eventually challenged all history.

We don’t know how Nicodemus’ story continues but what we do know of it—his first movement toward Love under the cover of night, his clear, first witness at the ruling council, and his generous, loving care of Jesus’ body—these three events might be enough to persuade us, as with Nicodemus, that Love only comes into the world case by case, individual by individual.

Like Nicodemus, we are enabled to learn that Love is not a system of beliefs dividing true believers from non-believers, nor is Love a system of goodness that excludes those whom we agree are not good. For neither of these systems were ever enfleshed by Jesus. And by definition, the Kingdom of God is not populated with their adherents.

That is the judgment—which is simply another way of saying that moment to moment, encounter by encounter, it is our choice, by virtue of grace, whether or not to live in the darkness of self-justification by ethnicity, country, religion, political party, skin color or sexual orientation in order to secure our identity at the expense of others.

Or, alternatively, moment by moment, encounter by encounter, it is our choice by grace to live as if we really trusted that Love’s eternal life is going on right now, this side of our physical deaths.

Is this the Love that brought you here this morning? I hope so. Because if it is, the world should know about you ... and you ... and you ...and you!

AMEN.[4]

---

[1] http://religiousleft.bmgbiz.net/u2charist.html Bishop Michael Curry’s sermon at General Convention, U2Charist, June 13, 2006, Columbus, Ohio.

[2]See Bonhoefferr, Dietrich. Letters and Papers from Prison, p. 17, “the view from below” (New York: Touchstone, 1997)

[3] 2 Kings 18.4

[4] The preacher wishes to acknowledge the following authors and their publications for inspiring and shaping this sermon: James Alison (2009: “What sorts of difference does René Girard make to how we read the Bible?” http://www.jamesalison.co.uk/texts/eng56.html, and 2006: “Sacrifice, Law, and the Catholic Faith: Is secularity really the enemy?” http://www.jamesalison.co.uk/texts/eng36.html ); Anthony Bartlett (Cross Purposes, 2001, Trinity Press); J. Martin C. Scott (“John” in Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, 2003). Thank you!