11/1/2009 - Alexander "Sandy" Webb, Seminarian - All Saint's Day

In the Name of the One, Holy, and Undivided Trinity. Amen.

This weekend contains two important feasts of our church calendar; two important dates in our common life. Today is the Feast of All Saints, but yesterday was the parish Rummage Sale.

The Rummage Sale is a venerable tradition at St. Margaret’s, stretching back well over fifty years. Thousands of hours are invested in the sale every year, and thousands of people have participated over the years. Names like Bea Aitchison and Mabel Cook may have slipped from common memory, but in the sixties and seventies, they were the characters that defined the Sale. As today’s rummagers, we stand on their shoulders. We carry on their legacy. We build on their foundation.

You can get almost anything you could want at the Rummage Sale. Where else can five dollars buy you a stuffed snake, a floppy hat, and a pair of hockey mitts to complete your ensemble?

Indeed, you can get almost anything you could want at the Rummage Sale, and you can see almost anyone. We help single parents refresh their children’s wardrobe. We help Dupont Circle socialites assemble the perfect Halloween costume. And, we even help seminarians spice up their Sunday sermons.

Like our merchandise, our customers come in all sizes, shapes, and colors. They come with different interests, needs, and objectives. Yet, imagination unites them all.

Imagination is critical. Rummagers imagine that this traditional building is something of a Moroccan souq, a bustling marketplace filled to the brim with goods of every conceivable variety. Rummagers then imagine new possibilities for the vast array of pre-owned items on display.

In short, rummagers look at what is and imagine what will be.

Today’s lesson from the Book of Revelation is all about imagining what will be. In Revelation, God speaks to a man traditionally known as St. John the Divine, and tells him about the end of time. God says that before the end of time, there will be a period of great tribulation, involving battles in both heaven and earth. However, in the end, God and the saints will emerge victorious.

Our lesson for today is the climax of the Revelation story. After twenty chapters of warfare and violence, St. John the Divine sees a new heaven and a new earth emerging. His entire reality passes away, and the holy city, God’s own city, the New Jerusalem, descends from the sky. Everything is made new, and the voice of God rings out with some of the most comforting and poetic words in the whole corpus of Holy Scripture:

See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them as their God;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more...

Jerusalem becomes God’s sermon illustration because Jerusalem has been besieged with inescapable violence since the days of King David. In Revelation, as the prophet Isaiah foretold, God cries unto Jerusalem: Your warfare has ended, and the glory of the Lord will be revealed. Everything is being made new. Everything will be peace.

Can you imagine? Can you imagine dwelling personally with God, alongside the saints in every generation, as citizens of a Jerusalem in which there is no heartache, no death, no pain? Can you imagine?

For many of us, this New Jerusalem of which God speaks is simply unimaginable. We can imagine that a sanctuary is a marketplace. We can imagine new uses for old stuff. But, we cannot conceive of the fellowship, unity, and faith of which God speaks.

Yet, I wonder why it is so easy for us to imagine what we will do with our rummage, and so hard to imagine what God will do with our world. Why is it entirely possible to believe that we can make a Halloween costume out of junk, but entirely impossible to believe that God can restore creation?

For me, the difference has everything to do with faith. When I imagine the possibilities for my rummage, I do so with full reliance on my strengths and abilities. When I imagine the possibilities for creation, I must rely on God’s strengths and abilities. When it comes to rummage, I limit myself to imagining that which I know I can make happen. When I imagine the New Jerusalem, I have to trust that God can make it happen.

Having faith in myself is a lot easier than having faith in God. Yet, when I start looking at the things I have done, I often begin to realize that I owe a debt of gratitude to many, many others. You see, in the Church, we never start from nothing. We are always carrying on the work of the saints who went before us. We start where our predecessors stopped and push forward one more step.

Today, we carry a torch once carried by Bea Aitchison and Mabel Cook. And, some day someone will carry it for us. Some day, our names will be added to the All Saints’ Day list, our work on earth will be complete, but the work of this parish, the work of the Church universal, will continue unabated.

The Rummage Sale, like the Church itself, belongs just as much to our predecessors and our successors as it does to us, and this is the spirit of All Saints’ Day. All Saints’ is our day to celebrate our goodly heritage and to imagine the day when all of God’s saints from every generation will be eternally reunited with God and with each other in that heavenly city; that New Jerusalem, in which there is no pain, no tears, no death.

When I have trouble imagining the New Jerusalem, I start looking for glimpses of it in the world around me. I almost always feel its presence at funerals, at weddings, and at baptisms. I see the New Jerusalem at the Rummage Sale, at Charlie’s Place, and in Sunday services. When the Church is gathered in faith and celebration, it becomes so much easier to imagine that day when all of God’s saints will be gathered together, when we will all sing God’s praises in perfect harmony, when we will love each other as God first loved us.

All Saints’ is our day to imagine. All Saints’ is our day to remember that God speaks with no doubt, no hesitation, no conditionality. The New Jerusalem is real, and we need only believe. We need only imagine.

Amen.

1 The preacher is grateful to Katharine Pagan and Maude Katzenbach for providing these names and memories.
2 For further information on Revelation, consult the following volume, which is widely considered to be accessible and authoritative: Craig R. Koester. Revelation and the End of All Things. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans Publishing, 2001.
3 Paraphrase: Isaiah 40:2, Isaiah 40:5

 

10/25/2009 - The Rev. Susan N. Blue - The Twenty-first Sunday After Pentecost

This story from Mark is the last healing by Jesus prior to his entry into Jerusalem for the final time. It is distinct in that the name of the healed person is used – Bartimaeus or Son of Timaeus. Further, Bartimaeus recognizes, in some instinctive way, that Jesus is the awaited One, the son of David. As Jesus leaves Jericho he is surrounded by a crowd, one that perhaps is anticipating that a conflict with the Roman authorities is imminent. One suspects that their way was lined by beggars, hoping to profit by the large number of people. It is, therefore, remarkable that Bartimaeus dares to call out to Jesus by name asking for pity. Despite the shushing of the crowd, he calls out even louder. It is also amazing that Jesus can hear his cry.
Jesus then calls blind Bartimaeus to him, and, with that, the crowd parts and enables his passage. The blind man throws off his cloak, a treasured possession that not only kept him warm but also served to be a repository for the coins tossed his way. Jesus, with compassion, asks what he wants, Bartimaeus asks for his sight, and he is immediately cured. Bartimaeus then follows Jesus.
What a contrast to the rich young man who was so blinded by his possessions that he could not put them away to follow Jesus! It is also a profound contrast to the disciples, James and John, who asked for power and position rather than the faith and understanding that they needed.
It is no surprise that this healing is a metaphor for all who would follow Jesus Christ. Every person has ways in which they are blind or burdened. Most of us, at some point in our lives ask for Jesus to have pity on us. We ask when we are desperately ill, terribly frightened, extremely sad, or in any way very needy. Many of us have cried out from the edge of the crowd for pity and a healing of our burdens. For some, the darkness in our lives is well known to others, whereas some live in secret darkness. In either case, Jesus knows what we need, loves us, and will be there for us.
Jesus calls us to him with compassion, and we are called to empty ourselves, to cast off our cloaks of protection, and to move toward him empty-handed, asking only his healing. To empty one’s self is no easy task. We have to look internally, to let go of anger, fear, resentment and anxiety. We need to examine all that which blocks us from embracing the love of God. It means letting go of the need for power, possessions and self-righteousness. It means to set aside many of the values so highly regarded in the world.
We are often more like the disciples than the blind beggar. We are slow to “get it” and reluctant to embrace God with blind faith, trusting that putting ourselves in God’s hands will relieve that which burdens us.
The story continues with, after he is healed, Bartimaeus following Jesus. He has gained new life and recognizes that life source. Again, this is a metaphor for the disciples and for all Christians. If we are to follow Jesus we must see others through the lens of compassion, with the heart, not just the mind. There was so little time that day, for the beggar and for the disciples. It was Bartimaeus’ only chance for healing and a vivid example for the disciples of what they were to do were they to truly follow Christ.
Through this story we are called to a self-emptying and a harsh self-evaluation as we examine what we truly need. We are then to trust, to have faith, that we are loved, valued and will be cured…just as we are, in all of our nakedness. The time is short…we do not live forever…and our call is to act now before it is too late.
Bishop Fred Borsch has said that “…we act as though we are in charge. We look for God in liturgy, intellect, the institution of the Church, in the creeds and in Holy Scripture. However, our relationship with God doesn’t happen through our own efforts. We nee to let go, to wait, to be quiet, vulnerable and naked, despite the dark and the cold.” (Copied)
Many years ago John Newton fled his creditors and joined the Merchant Marines. He continued his pattern of gambling and drinking, however, and became more and more in debt. One night he fell overboard, too drunk to even grab the life preserver thrown to him. Finally, he was shot with a harpoon and dragged aboard the ship. As he recovered his eyes were opened, and he began to experience a religious conversion. In his own words, familiar to all of us, he penned:

“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind but now I see.

T’was Grace that taught my heart to fear
And Grace my fear relieved
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.”
(John Newton -- Copied)

AMEN

 

10/4/2009 - The Rev. Susan N. Blue - The Eighteenth Sunday After Pentecost / St. Francis Day

When I looked at the Gospel for today and its contrast to St. Francis and the Blessing of Pets I wished that John Berry was still the Director of the National Zoo. However, underneath it all, there is one prevailing theme…that of stewardship and responsibility. In creation we believe that God gave humankind stewardship of the earth, of the creatures of the earth, of our children and, ultimately, of one another. I find it frightening that our earth, our creatures, our children and we are all endangered and threatened by generations of ignorance and unwillingness to address the incredible gift and responsibility we have been given.
Global warming is no longer a debatable issue; it simply is! Not only are our exotic creatures endangered, but one only needs to pick up the newspaper to see pictures of abused dogs, cats left to fend for themselves, a plan to perhaps kill all the deer in Rock Creek Park rather than using humane methods of sterilization, and general inhumane use of animals for commercial purposes. We were given the earth and the earth’s creatures to care for, and we haven’t done a very creditable job! We are to take our charge seriously and to challenge the powers that be whenever we see abuse, cruelty or neglect. We no longer have the luxury of turning away.
In Mark’s Gospel for today, Jesus spoke sternly to the disciples when they would have turned the children away from Jesus’ touch. His words were: “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the Kingdom of God belongs.” He then held and blessed them. What a contrast to the position of children in the first century! They were considered to be less valuable than slaves. They were the most marginal of all human beings then and, one wonders, if in some places they are not still today. The Roman Polanski crime is not singular; there are children who are sex slaves in all parts of the world. We read of children being physically and psychologically abused – even murdered – by the very persons charged to protect and care for them. Whenever we see abuse, cruelty or neglect of God’s children we are to challenge the powers that be. We are to see that they are protected, educated, fed, housed, clothed and given adequate health care. We no longer have the luxury of looking away. This is our role as Christians and as stewards of the Kingdom of God.
We are also given responsibility for one another as adults, and it is to one facet of this issue that Jesus is speaking when he talks about divorce. In the first century males were the only persons with power. Men were persons and women were objects. The entire Bible was written from that perspective – both the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament. Hence, it is no more productive to find twenty-first century answers in the Bible regarding the relationship between men and women, to proof-text if you will, than it is justify sleeping with one’s brother’s widow, Leverite Marriage, to murder one’s enemies, or to stone someone caught in adultery. There were two schools of thought in first century Judaism regarding divorce. Hillel contended that a man could put a wife aside for any reason; Shamai believed that could only happen for adultery. Further, only a man could institute divorce and, if he didn’t give the woman a bill of divorcement, she would never be able to remarry. If one adds in the factor that it was almost a thousand years later that polygamy was outlawed, we have a very complicated situation.
Jesus never had much patience with the technicality of the law. He challenged it around the dietary rules, the keeping of the Sabbath and the caring for the outcast. He had little patience for the legal intricacies of this debate and simply referred back to Deuteronomy and the Law of Moses. He contended that divorce occurred because of “hardness of heart.” In other words, Jesus reframed the argument from a legal one to a moral issue.
Jesus taught that God wants freedom and wholeness for everyone, not just the few. He also understood that we are all sinners; that we are all flawed and fail to do what we are called to do. Broken relationships are but one area where some of us err. How many of us always turn the other cheek, give not only our cloak but our coat to the needy, always reach out to the outcast, love the unlovable and forgive freely and constantly. All humankind is fallen; divorce is a metaphor for that failure. In divorce, the relationship is sundered and the charge to be one flesh is not followed. Sin is understood to be that which breaks or hinders our relationship with God, with others and with ourselves. All of us fall short.
However, there is good news! We do not have to wallow in our inadequacy. God is all-loving, all-forgiving and totally merciful. No matter how far we have fallen away, we are welcomed, as Jesus did the children, with open arms and blessing. Like the father of the Prodigal, God races to meet us with great joy when we return and ask forgiveness. God wants life for us, not death. Anyone who has been divorced or is a child of divorce understands that it, too, is a death.
Our charge, then, is to accept God’s forgiveness and to demonstrate in our lives new ways of being. God sees us as we are, not as we ought to be, and therein lies new life. Yes we were created for relationship with God, with one another, and with the earth and all of its creatures. Yes, we fail; but God does not! When we are lost, God seeks us out relentlessly and welcomes us home – freely, delightedly, and foolishly! God knows us through and through in all of our willful sinfulness, and loves us all the same. AMEN