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Last Sunday after
the Epiphany
February 18, 2007
Sermon by The Rev. James Jelinek, Bishop
In the 13 ½ years I have
been privileged to serve as Bishop of Minnesota, I have visited St.
Paul’s many ties. Most often these have been visits with an emphasis on
confirmation and/or baptism, or a post-convention or regional gathering,
and it has not seemed appropriate to speak about your life as a
congregation without slighting something else or preaching for an hour
and a half. This time I am here for a simple visitation, including a
visit with Bill Van Oss and a further one with the Vestry and some of
your other clergy, namely David Hill and Margaret “Wild Woman” Thomas.
So I would like to give you a summary of what I heard yesterday about
your life together in the Spirit before preaching on today’s texts. I
promise you, I will not go on for an hour and a half.
This is what I heard:
Not surprisingly, it is clear that you had a spiritually powerful ten
years with Howard Anderson and a very healthy interim with Peggy Tuttle.
With the departure of Howard, Lucie and Aron, there was some decline in
ministry with children and youth, a bit less pastoral time available,
the loss of a few families, and a “right-sizing of the congregation” to
reflect the actual members who participate in your corporate life. Also,
during the interim, some long-standing members of the congregation were
welcomed by God into the larger life we sometime call the Church
Triumphant.
All in all, some key dimensions of parish life held firm, like your
strong commitments to outreach in the neighborhood and beyond it, your
valuing of diversity and welcome to all people who enter these doors,
your respect for each other even when in disagreement, worship that is
Christ-centered, joyous and filled with good music, strong lay
leadership along with excellent clergy leadership. You have continued to
be generous with your time as volunteers and with your treasures in
giving for the support of the parish. In addition, you have consistently
paid your diocesan apportionment for the Common Good and contribute the
gifts of many people on diocesan commissions, committees and boards, for
which I am deeply grateful. You have discerned several for formation as
deacons and priests.
Internally, I am most pleased – and not at all surprised to hear about
your life as a community. Everyone affirmed that people are respected
here:
• no matter where they are on their spiritual journey
• no matter how conservative or liberal they may be or what opinions
they hold
• no matter how they dress or how much money they give
• no matter how long they have been here
Everyone affirmed that this is a welcoming congregation, and that
newcomers say they feel it when they join you for worship and other
occasions, such as the many social opportunities which allow you
occasions to get to know one another and bond more deeply. Someone said
very clearly, “The parish is very good at supporting individuals in
ministry,” whether that be in liturgy, Befrienders, work for the
environment, social action and outreach or in the other ministries in
your personal lives.
The Vestry members individually and collectively, believe these things
are so deep in this community that they count on sustainable growth in
the future.
There is a great deal of excitement and praise for your new rector,
Bill, and his wife Sue who brings her own rich gifts for Christian
formation and the nurturing and equipping of teachers. You are doubly
blessed in having both of them as they model team ministry as a couple
that is rare in the whole church today. If you wish, this would be an
appropriate time to break into applause – even in church.
You are extraordinarily blessed as a congregation. You have far more
talent and expertise and skill than most congregations, and I trust you
know that. It is my hope that in the prayers of the people each week you
will become one of those rare congregations in which your thanksgivings
take as long to name as your requests for healing and consolation and
guidance. When we do not slow down enough to name those dimensions of
life for which we are grateful, we risk taking God for granted and focus
more on our spiritual poverty than our health.
Let’s take a look at the lessons for today. I love the season of
Epiphany, and the lessons week after week telling of still one more way
that God is revealed in the person of Jesus – wonder after wonder,
miracle after miracle – each one showing how God works through love in
this very real man to bring healing, forgiveness, abundance and
resurrection. Every year we begin with Jesus’ baptism and we end with
his transfiguration, to remind us that everything that is truly lovely,
everything undeniably beautiful, everything unquestionably true begins
as God’s gift, God’s self-disclosure, God’s self-emptying and
out-pouring into the life we know and share in Jesus the Christ. I am
not inclined to be exclusive, even as a disciple of Jesus. I am not as
fond of the ancient affirmation of Jesus as the only-begotten son of
God, because I do not want to limit God to any narrowness that suits my
prejudices and predilections and the smallness of my own feeble mind or
limited experience. But I love the more recent description of Jesus as
“the unsurpassable revelation of God.” I love it because it allows God
the possibility to speak to other people and other cultures in ways I do
not understand. Yet it also affirms that I believe Jesus to be so
completely one with God that I cannot imagine any other human being
revealing God more clearly “unsurpassable revelation” denies nothing of
Jesus’ fullness, yet it makes room for God’s glory to be found and seen
and named wherever God chooses. Some might call that heresy. I risk it,
praying that it may open more doors and windows for you rather than
confining you in the dark room wherein we fight over some intellectual
“truth” rather than embrace what is living and “true.”
I used to think that Jesus’ baptism and transfiguration were God’s gift
to the church – to help us see God in Jesus so we might adore him. But
over the years, I have come to see these events as God’s gifts to Jesus,
to help Jesus to know God, to adore God and to help us follow Jesus and
fall in love with God ourselves.
The transfiguration comes at a critical time in Jesus’ life. He has been
hounded and persecuted. He is misunderstood by his own family. His faith
is often invisible to his chosen disciples. The people of his own
religion and culture reject him and run him out of many towns, starting
with his home town. Again and again he goes off to a place apart, to be
alone with God, to pray, to regain the power and the nearness he
experienced with God at his baptism. And this is it! His vision at the
transfiguration grounds him again in the faith of his ancestors, in a
conversation with the two giants of Jewish history, Moses and Elijah,
the great deliverer from slavery and the prophet of monotheism – one
God. This event, this time of confirmation, of ordination of
consecration is for Jesus – an affirmation that he is on the right path
– that he has been faithful as God wants him to be. And Jesus is
renewed. Jesus is restored to hope.
Unlike what so many others have done with a profound experience of God,
it does not go to Jesus’ head. He doesn’t get all puffed up. He doesn’t
become a spiritual autocrat, a dictator who uses God and God-language to
get his way, to take control, to enslave others to his will. What this
experience does for Jesus is to make him more compassionate, more
understanding, more generous of heart, in a word – more loving. In
future encounters, his harsh words are offered not to all sinners, nor
even those who commit particular sins, but to those who pretend to love
the God they have not seen while despising and disdaining the fragile
human beings they have seen. He challenges the hypocrites, those who sin
against the Holy Spirit by acting as if God’s love is as limited as
theirs. I am trusting that you know the same stories I do, and if you do
not, then dust off your Bible and read a chapter a day from Matthew,
Mark, Luke or John between now and Easter. The gospels, mind you, not
Leviticus or any of the other rule books we hear quoted far too often.
And while you’re reading, at least once a week read this passage from
Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians.
Paul gets it, at least on a good day when he’s not overwhelmed by the
sin and evil he sees and knows in himself. He knows it’s all about love,
and this great hymn to love, this song of love, is written for us, for
us to ponder over, to dwell on, to savor and take deep into our hearts,
our very souls. Paul knows that everything else is partial, incomplete,
even counterfeit. He knows that when we fall in love, when we live in
love – with our partner, with our companions on life’s journey, our love
will be tested and tried. Every one of our buttons will be pushed. We
will want to be superior or judgmental and will do almost anything to
protect ourselves from the pain of growing up in love and growing, as
the collect reminds us, “being changed into [Christ’s] likeness from
glory to glory.”
Let me close with Paul’s own words:
"If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have
love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic
powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have
all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am
nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body
so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or
arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable
or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the
truth. [Love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things,
endures all things. Love never ends. . . . And now faith, hope, and love
abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love." AMEN.
Let the church say, “AMEN.”
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