All
Saints Sunday; Yr. C, November 3, 2013
Isaiah 1:1-10;
Psalm 32:1-8;
2 Thessalonians
1:1-4, 11-12; Luke 19:1-10
Sermon
preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church
Many of you know that I have started a Clinical Pastoral
Education program to become certified as a CPE Supervisor. As a result of that process, and the fact
that it has been five years since we wrote our first Mission and Vision
statement, the vestry and I have been exploring our life and work
together. Elaine, our secretary and I,
took a month and kept track of our work and the time we spent on different
tasks. The vestry took a look at our
Mission & Vision statements to see if and how they still ring true for us.
After our service today, we ‘ll ask all of you to look at the work we’ve done
and to give us feedback on the Mission & Vision. In anticipation of this meeting, last week the
vestry started thinking about the work that needs to be done in order to make
this piece of paper a living document.
We’re looking forward to your feedback.
The vestry has put in a bit of extra time doing this work, meeting
outside of their regularly scheduled monthly meetings. I feel a deep commitment to this parish in
their commitment of time and talent, but we are a small church.
The early churches were small too.
They were not only small, but many, like the
church in Thessalonica, were definite minorities in the larger Jewish
tradition. They were facing persecution
and were called heretics. It was not
easy to live their new life in Christ in the midst of such opposition. So Paul wrote to them, sometimes to teach
them, sometimes to correct them, sometimes to encourage them … but perhaps most
importantly to stay connected with them in Christ. He was their brother, even though he didn’t
live among them. They were part of his
family through baptism. They were a
Church of small churches.
In
the Acts of the Apostles it says this about the early Christians. Now the
company of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that
any of the things which he possessed was his own, but they had everything in
common. And with great power the
apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great
grace was upon them all. There was not a
needy person among them, for as many possessors of lands or houses sold them,
and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the apostles’ feet;
and distribution was made to each as any had need. (Acts 4:32-37) Some will say that that kind of utopian
church didn’t last very long, and we shouldn’t expect that kind of generosity
today. Perhaps that’s true, but I think
the point is, in the church, we take care of one another. We do not let one of our family go hungry if
there is something we can do to help.
Look
around at the faces that are here. We’re
small enough to say we recognize most everyone who comes. We’ve talked in the parish hall after the
service, or greeted one another at the peace, or attended funerals together, or
watched our children grow up here. We
are bound together in baptism, and the communion we share in Christ is one
worth preserving because it feeds us for living our faith. Those early Christians knew it; Paul knew it.
That’s why he writes to the Thessalonians and says, We must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters, as is
right, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of everyone of
you for one another is increasing. (2 Thessalonians 19:3) We love one another, our communion in
Christ deepens that love, and we give out of that love for those who are
here.
But
is that all that church is about? Jesus
has a peculiar way of acting that seems to imply that the “we” he’s talking
about as Church is much larger then the “we” who are actually present in the
pews. Take Zacchaeus for instance. Jesus was traveling around speaking to crowds
and speaking in synagogues. This tax
collector, this RICH tax collector, wanted to see who Jesus was. But he was too short to see him in the
crowd.
It
reminds me of trying to see over people when we attended the Macy’s
Thanksgiving Day parade a few years ago.
Hannah was much shorter than the others who were standing near us. Even though we were only about five rows back
from the street, we quickly realized that Hannah wasn’t going to see much of
anything but legs. Others had brought
step stools to stand on, but we were empty handed. In an act of desperation, we picked Hannah up
and sat her on the police car that was parked behind us. She watched the parade from there. What dd Zacchaeus do? He ran ahead of the mob and climbed a
tree. He wanted to see who Jesus was.
When
Jesus gets up there, he knows Zacchaeus
by name. What’s it like when someone
you don’t know, calls you by name? It’s
unnerving … startling … eerie … maybe even surreal. Jesus knows his name. That’s powerful. I’d wonder what else this guy knows about me. Then, surprisingly Jesus tells Zacchaeus to
come down so that he can stay at his house.
All these followers are there in the crowd watching this happen. People who have been “in church”, we could
say. It might be like us having Jesus
show up at our doorstep one day at noon.
The AA group is hanging out in the parking lot, and one of them really
wants to see who Jesus is, so he jockeys for a position in the crowd. We’re all there. Church members and maybe some family. Jesus
walks up, and instead of inviting himself to stay at one of our homes, he calls
out to this one AA member, someone who doesn’t even come to our church to
worship. Hey, Bill … I’m going to stay
with you tonight! What’s that
about? Now we can get all up tight about
that and feel defensive and jealous. We
can grumble among ourselves about how hard we’re working here and how much
we’re giving to keep these doors open, and gripe about how this guy is just a
member of AA who’s name WE don’t even know … or, we can find that curious place
in ourselves and start to wonder, “What is Jesus up to?”
Yesterday,
I met with my CPE group. I presented a
rough draft of my personal history. It’s
supposed to show the certification committee things in my past and present that
have helped to form me as a pastor. I
realized at one point that I hadn’t put anything in there about St. Stephen’s,
and all of you. The work I’ve done here
has had a huge impact on me and on my desire to have a CPE program based here. My supervisor remarked about how much goes on
here. I responded with something like,
“yes, but we’re really a very small church to support all that goes on.” Yes, buts are so good at dampening positive
energy, that I didn’t expect the response I got. He said, “Small church? Your church is huge! You have the whole community!” Our church is the community. Didn’t Michael Hopkins say something about
that at my installation? He said that
St. Stephen’s needed to become the
community. Maybe … that’s what we
are, but what we haven’t claimed. How could
things be different if we believed that our “church” really WAS the
community?
From
a stewardship standpoint, we’d have access to a whole lot more pledging
units. People may not give for the
worship that we share together, but I wonder if they would give for the mission
that we espouse … one that seeks to be a haven for community activities, one
that is focused on providing for children, one that is community oriented, one
that seeks to honor diversity, one that values partnerships and
collaboration. That seems like something
many people in our community would support with dollars if it meant that things
in this neighborhood might improve. Somewhere
in there we might also be able to talk about what drives us to serve here.
We’d actually get to talk about our faith, to let people know who Jesus
is.
What
if we had people on Building and Grounds who didn’t come to church, but really
cared that this building remained as a place where community groups could
gather for free? Isn’t that what is
already happening with AA? They pick up trash
in the lawn, mop the parish hall, bring in the trash cans on Friday mornings
and make sure the building is secure.
They would love for me to come down to their meetings, to join them as a
spiritual presence. Aren’t we beginning
that with the after school group that’s starting on Monday’s? They’re reaching out to kids in the
neighborhood. They would love for us to
be there too, and Georgia is. We can’t
talk specifically about Jesus but we can be examples of god’s love and
care. Isn’t that what’s already happening
with the garden? Some want to add beds
for other people in the neighborhood.
People
who use our building often want to know who
we are, just like Zacchaeus wanted to know who Jesus was. Jesus knew Zacchaeus was part of his church,
I’m just learning in a new way how how big our church really is. Our neighbors are part of our church …
perhaps even in the realm of our stewardship.
They may not care about keeping me here, but they care about keeping us
here. Our neighbors know how important
we are to this community. We need to
care for each other. It’s a two way
street, we just need to find ways to get to know one another so that support
can be realized. Jesus was always out
there becoming known, calling people by name … and the crowds around him
grew. We can do the same.
Amen.
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