First Sunday in Morehead
I will begin serving St. Alban's, Morehead, in late May. I visited April 20th to preside at Eucharist and preach. Here is the sermon--if you dare!
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Sermon: Easter Five St. Alban’s
April 20, 2008
May our work in the world be a vehicle for Your Love; May it shine and light up all darkened places. Be with us, O Lord. Amen. (Adapted from Marianne Williamson’s Illuminata.)
Eighteen years ago, when I was trying to decide where to attend library school, I packed up our two oldest boys and headed to South Carolina for a visit. I was trying to choose between Clarion University of Pennsylvania, which is set in a rural area not unlike Morehead (but much smaller!) or the University of South Carolina in Columbia. Clarion had offered me a lovely assistantship, and USC could not promise a dime, so this ought to have been a futile field trip. But the proximity of magnolias, warmer temperatures, and the all important possibility of day trips to the beach were all calling me with undeniable power. So I went south for the interview.
Erik was 7 and Case was 4. I had not yet met my husband Shannon, so the boys were still only mine. I promised them that we would interview, tour, and then take a weekend at the beach, just the three of us. After two days of trying to navigate the confusing streets of Columbia, we settled into the atrium of a Holiday Inn downtown for a glass of orange juice and a serious conference about the future. We spoke of finances, of academic opportunities and of quality of living. Erik, who even at age 7 knew me very well, cut the decision down to size with this pithy observation: “You had better go to Clarion, Mom. They only have one stoplight, and you cannot possibly get lost.”
Geography, in its reality, challenges me. I can read a map pretty well now, and although I was certain I would not be able to return to St. Mark’s Hazard by myself after my initial visit, you should know that the Small Church Missioner can get to most places in her territory with an intrepid use of Google Map. Moreover, I am unashamedly grateful for the clear directions and faultless landmarks given to me for finding St. Alban’s. Nonetheless, when Jesus says to Thomas, “You know the way to the place where I am going,” and Thomas returns with an almost terrified “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How CAN we know the way?” this resonates very clearly with me. Perhaps at this intersection in the ‘History of St. Alban’s,’ it does with you as well.
Although the Small Church Ministerial Consortium has helped with the larger stress issues, it is not easy to listen to this first part of John’s “Farewell Discourse” in the context of Joyce’s imminent departure from St. Alban’s. In this narrative, time seems to stop as Jesus tries to prepare them for the future. He hopes that their faith will help them to interpret the events in their correct context and not sink into despair. It is hard to miss the parallels as we make ready to release Joyce so that she can answer God’s call for her next ministry assignment. Where is she going? How can we know the way? We thought our paths were together, but now they are not to be. That is our emotional response, perhaps, even while we accept that we are parting ways and we hope and believe that it really will be alright.
You should know that Joyce has prepared this transition very carefully out of her great love for you. That preparation included inviting me on this past Wednesday night into a service that she could have shared just with you and the Bishop. That preparation has included her spending time with you and with me in ways that help us to know one another better before we even begin to set off together. That preparation has allowed you to see this transition through eyes of faith, just as Jesus hoped it would do for his disciples.
Now please understand me clearly: I am not comparing Jesus and Joyce! That would hardly be fair to either one of them and it would place me in an impossible position! It will be difficult enough to fill these shoes without that!! Nor am I offering a comparison between the kinds of separation that you will have from Joyce and that Jesus and his disciples faced. After all, Joyce and I are seminary mates—you will hear about her as the news comes in,--- I promise!
What I am suggesting is that this “emotional intersection” in the life of St. Alban’s in 2008 gives us the emotional resources to understand the dynamics of the last days that Jesus and his followers shared. I also believe that the comfort that Jesus offers—the assurance that the relationship will change but not end—can bring us comfort in this instance as well.
Because you see, despite my humorous opening about geography, Thomas is completely mistaken when he tries to interpret the words of Jesus through a geographic paradigm. Jesus isn’t talking about a place at all—there is no Google Map for Thomas to click on to find those many dwelling places. There is no location called Jesus; there is only relationship.
“If you know me,” Jesus patiently explains, “You will know my Father also.” Jesus is the way, and the truth and the life. Undeniably comforting, both to Thomas and to us, but not as clear as a map we can put our finger on. For all of us who are not so easily convinced, Thomas will later ask for that as well.
Perhaps that is why the next part of this Gospel has been so often misinterpreted. We have to be able to put our finger on it directly—or we think we do. For centuries, Christians have chosen to misinterpret the words “No one comes to the Father except through me” as a means of exclusion. These words have been used to attack our Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu brothers and sisters instead of to celebrate what Jesus is really telling us. The language in this passage about the Father and the Son is all about relationship—the relationship between them and our relationship with them. In knowing Jesus as the Son, we come to know the Father in a new way. We come to know the Father as Jesus knows the Father: as Abba-- as Daddy. As the beloved parent who cherishes us. John is not worried about condemning other religions here. John is concerned about helping Christians recognize and name their God in wonderful and unique words of faith.
For Jesus, recognizing and naming God in this way has the power to change the relationships between God and each of God’s people, and also to direct the relationships that we humans have with one another.
Wednesday night, as the festivities were winding down, a small group of us sitting with the Bishop got very excited about the possibilities for extending Hispanic Ministry into Morehead through St. Alban’s. We are not sure yet what form that might take or how we might all start, but stay tuned for a time and place we can all talk about that together. We have a lot to share about “knowing the Father” and the Father’s love through Jesus.
There is an old saying that the ministry of a priest is never truly known until that priest departs and what remains in the community as the legacy and gifts of that priest blossom into fruition. We will all be blessed by the many gifts that Joyce has shared here in her time at St. Alban’s, and we will all be blessed by what her ministry has prepared for us to do when the time comes.
What is really important to remember though is that our home is not a geographic home, but a relational one. Our home is not with one priest or one church. Our home is with God. The relationships we share, both here at St. Alban’s and outward into our community, are an outpouring of the love we find in that relationship with God. We do not need a map, Jesus tells us. Out of His great love, he has prepared a place for us, and also prepared us to do his work in the world. Where He is, we will be also.
We cannot possibly get lost.
Amen.
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Sermon: Easter Five St. Alban’s
April 20, 2008
May our work in the world be a vehicle for Your Love; May it shine and light up all darkened places. Be with us, O Lord. Amen. (Adapted from Marianne Williamson’s Illuminata.)
Eighteen years ago, when I was trying to decide where to attend library school, I packed up our two oldest boys and headed to South Carolina for a visit. I was trying to choose between Clarion University of Pennsylvania, which is set in a rural area not unlike Morehead (but much smaller!) or the University of South Carolina in Columbia. Clarion had offered me a lovely assistantship, and USC could not promise a dime, so this ought to have been a futile field trip. But the proximity of magnolias, warmer temperatures, and the all important possibility of day trips to the beach were all calling me with undeniable power. So I went south for the interview.
Erik was 7 and Case was 4. I had not yet met my husband Shannon, so the boys were still only mine. I promised them that we would interview, tour, and then take a weekend at the beach, just the three of us. After two days of trying to navigate the confusing streets of Columbia, we settled into the atrium of a Holiday Inn downtown for a glass of orange juice and a serious conference about the future. We spoke of finances, of academic opportunities and of quality of living. Erik, who even at age 7 knew me very well, cut the decision down to size with this pithy observation: “You had better go to Clarion, Mom. They only have one stoplight, and you cannot possibly get lost.”
Geography, in its reality, challenges me. I can read a map pretty well now, and although I was certain I would not be able to return to St. Mark’s Hazard by myself after my initial visit, you should know that the Small Church Missioner can get to most places in her territory with an intrepid use of Google Map. Moreover, I am unashamedly grateful for the clear directions and faultless landmarks given to me for finding St. Alban’s. Nonetheless, when Jesus says to Thomas, “You know the way to the place where I am going,” and Thomas returns with an almost terrified “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How CAN we know the way?” this resonates very clearly with me. Perhaps at this intersection in the ‘History of St. Alban’s,’ it does with you as well.
Although the Small Church Ministerial Consortium has helped with the larger stress issues, it is not easy to listen to this first part of John’s “Farewell Discourse” in the context of Joyce’s imminent departure from St. Alban’s. In this narrative, time seems to stop as Jesus tries to prepare them for the future. He hopes that their faith will help them to interpret the events in their correct context and not sink into despair. It is hard to miss the parallels as we make ready to release Joyce so that she can answer God’s call for her next ministry assignment. Where is she going? How can we know the way? We thought our paths were together, but now they are not to be. That is our emotional response, perhaps, even while we accept that we are parting ways and we hope and believe that it really will be alright.
You should know that Joyce has prepared this transition very carefully out of her great love for you. That preparation included inviting me on this past Wednesday night into a service that she could have shared just with you and the Bishop. That preparation has included her spending time with you and with me in ways that help us to know one another better before we even begin to set off together. That preparation has allowed you to see this transition through eyes of faith, just as Jesus hoped it would do for his disciples.
Now please understand me clearly: I am not comparing Jesus and Joyce! That would hardly be fair to either one of them and it would place me in an impossible position! It will be difficult enough to fill these shoes without that!! Nor am I offering a comparison between the kinds of separation that you will have from Joyce and that Jesus and his disciples faced. After all, Joyce and I are seminary mates—you will hear about her as the news comes in,--- I promise!
What I am suggesting is that this “emotional intersection” in the life of St. Alban’s in 2008 gives us the emotional resources to understand the dynamics of the last days that Jesus and his followers shared. I also believe that the comfort that Jesus offers—the assurance that the relationship will change but not end—can bring us comfort in this instance as well.
Because you see, despite my humorous opening about geography, Thomas is completely mistaken when he tries to interpret the words of Jesus through a geographic paradigm. Jesus isn’t talking about a place at all—there is no Google Map for Thomas to click on to find those many dwelling places. There is no location called Jesus; there is only relationship.
“If you know me,” Jesus patiently explains, “You will know my Father also.” Jesus is the way, and the truth and the life. Undeniably comforting, both to Thomas and to us, but not as clear as a map we can put our finger on. For all of us who are not so easily convinced, Thomas will later ask for that as well.
Perhaps that is why the next part of this Gospel has been so often misinterpreted. We have to be able to put our finger on it directly—or we think we do. For centuries, Christians have chosen to misinterpret the words “No one comes to the Father except through me” as a means of exclusion. These words have been used to attack our Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu brothers and sisters instead of to celebrate what Jesus is really telling us. The language in this passage about the Father and the Son is all about relationship—the relationship between them and our relationship with them. In knowing Jesus as the Son, we come to know the Father in a new way. We come to know the Father as Jesus knows the Father: as Abba-- as Daddy. As the beloved parent who cherishes us. John is not worried about condemning other religions here. John is concerned about helping Christians recognize and name their God in wonderful and unique words of faith.
For Jesus, recognizing and naming God in this way has the power to change the relationships between God and each of God’s people, and also to direct the relationships that we humans have with one another.
Wednesday night, as the festivities were winding down, a small group of us sitting with the Bishop got very excited about the possibilities for extending Hispanic Ministry into Morehead through St. Alban’s. We are not sure yet what form that might take or how we might all start, but stay tuned for a time and place we can all talk about that together. We have a lot to share about “knowing the Father” and the Father’s love through Jesus.
There is an old saying that the ministry of a priest is never truly known until that priest departs and what remains in the community as the legacy and gifts of that priest blossom into fruition. We will all be blessed by the many gifts that Joyce has shared here in her time at St. Alban’s, and we will all be blessed by what her ministry has prepared for us to do when the time comes.
What is really important to remember though is that our home is not a geographic home, but a relational one. Our home is not with one priest or one church. Our home is with God. The relationships we share, both here at St. Alban’s and outward into our community, are an outpouring of the love we find in that relationship with God. We do not need a map, Jesus tells us. Out of His great love, he has prepared a place for us, and also prepared us to do his work in the world. Where He is, we will be also.
We cannot possibly get lost.
Amen.
Comments
Thanks very much!