Bishop's Blog

Bishop Scarfe shares his experiences, reflections, and sermons.







Friday, November 1, 2019

Sermon, 167th Convention

Joel 2: 23-32; 2 Timothy 4: 6-8, 16-18; Luke 18: 9-14

Please be seated.  Well first of all welcome to all of you who are listening in on livestream this morning. I’m told there are forty of you gathering that way. That’s wonderful; and if it doesn’t quite kind of get through all the time, well, just have a good time anyway.

We have certainly had a good time here at convention. We have just been upstairs (on third floor), and were embroiled in a heated resolution debate.  It is amazing what live TV can do for your sense of hurrying up. We managed to get here on time. In fact, we haven’t yet finished convention. And so, to all of you out there, I ask the convention to give you seat and voice. And best of luck with your voice.

I am always amazed that we have this historically produced lectionary that somehow manages to come up with lessons that seem so appropriate to whatever is going on around us currently. It is as though there was a secret “knowing” of what we might need for a certain time.

“The time for my departure has come,” writes the Apostle Paul. And if I didn’t have that written into my being already—by Evensong last night we were being reminded that we are now in transition. And as I heard the officiant say that, I thought to myself, “I’m not dead yet!”

“The time of my departure has come,” says the Apostle Paul. And yes, twenty-four hours ago I said the very same thing. I hope, with Paul, I can also say “I have fought the good fight; I have finished the race; and kept the faith.”

And yet all of that is premature and somewhat presumptuous! For Paul, the reference to escaping the lion’s mouth was literal! Death was at his doorstep. It was his life’s ministry that was coming to its close; and he knew it. A resigning bishop in contemporary times merely resigns from a position within the Church using the canonical language for “reason of advanced age."  Yes, we write a letter to the Presiding Bishop and that is the reason we have to give: “for reason of advanced age!” But I hope that the life of ministry and the service of Christ goes on, and for some time yet.

But Paul was reaching his final days. He clearly had been tried and, it seems, sentenced, and found himself standing alone at his trial. All those with whom he had had fellowship down the years, even those he had come to Rome to be with, it seems that none of them were present as it came to the time of his trial. He now awaited his final act of faithful service. He probably knew that his Roman citizenship had rescued him from the lions in the Coliseum, quite literally, but it was not going to rescue him, not from the Roman sword.

For him, the race was run. For him, the fight was done. And for him, all that was left was to keep the faith until the last darkening of his eyes. Just one final act of courageous faith stood between him and the One whose face he had once seen on the Damascus Road. It was a face that he had always sought to keep before him, saying as he once did to the Corinthians, that as he looked upon that face he prayed that the likeness of the love of Christ might, from glory to glory, appear and shine within his own face. He would soon see that which he urged so many of us to press on to see—His Savior face to face as he readied himself to submit to the martyr’s witness.

For most of us—and I am not saying all of us—for most of us in this building, it’s hard to imagine such a time. And yet, some of you here, you know persecution and you know martyrdom.

We all know that our faith rests upon such acts of courage and trust. Ultimately it is because God carved out such an act of self-sacrifice and self-offering upon the Cross in His Son, that God then asked us as Church to follow suit. And so we are the beneficiaries of such courage. We stand upon the sacrifice and self-offering of so many others. And even as we sit here, others continue to make that offering.

No great change seems to come easily. No great shift of our culture or of our perspective on life, within and without the Church, seems to occur without some degree of self-offering, without lives poured out as libations. Because our preference is to have tingling ears; our preference is to follow things that just comfort us. And, as we have heard this weekend, it is not even our passions or our visions, not even the warm feeling Christ brings us that is essential, but what actions of Christ— bringing food to the hungry, making shelter to the homeless, bringing justice to those that are afflicted—at whatever level of society it needs to be done—that is what is important. This we have been reminded about at this convention.

It’s not just our passion; it’s not just our vision; or our vision statements, but the reality of what we do, or with whom we stand, or whom we give our time to be with, and in whose shoes we are going to walk—all of this makes the difference, and brings the change God seeks.

We have been told by our convention speaker, Shane Claiborne, how this can happen through small things—and how many wonderful small things you are engaged in as we saw on Mentimeter – and so through that smallness, the transformation of the Kingdom can come. We might thank God that not many of us are asked to make the final act of submission—to have our lives physically taken from us for Christ’s sake. But we thank even more those who have so responded—and we know that we live as we do because they have died for a much greater love than we could embrace or know. That is the peace that is given to us, and is offered to us, which surpasses human understanding, guaranteed upon the price of Calvary, and everyone who has so imitated Christ down the ages.

I may stand before you nearer the end of ministry together as people and Bishop, though I pray, as I say, that we are nowhere near to the end of our service in Christ’s Name and God’s Kingdom. And it is good. But the Gospel reading today reminds us at such a time, how we are to present ourselves always before our God and before one another.

Jesus had taught and was teaching his disciples to pray.  And as you may recall from last week’s lessons, how important it was to Him that they not grow weary in that act of prayer. The gospel last week reminded us that they were to persist in their praying and not lose heart. If an unjust judge without any respect for God or his fellow human beings, would nevertheless listen to a persistent widow, we know how much more eagerly God who loves us wants to answer our cries for justice, peace, and the welfare of human beings. He wanted His disciples to be persistent and not lose heart; and yet in the midst of that assurance, and being confident in offering prayer, they were to be reminded that God’s favor is never appropriated for our own ends.

Yes, we are to be persistent in prayer, but always aware of our station as sinners who are saved by grace through faith, and not of our own steam or worthiness. We barely lift up our eyes under heaven. Our first words are “O God, have mercy upon us as sinners”—even while we then go on to pray for peace in this world, for the justice of God to roll down upon this earth. As we pray for all of the good things God desires, we remember who it is that offers such prayer and is heard. It is the tax collector; not the Pharisee.

Also from our reading last week, when Jacob turned Israel by wrestling a blessing from God, he would always be remembered because of his limp. We also limp along, ever reminded of whose we are and for whom we live. There is a humility with which the blessed children of God walk. It is what enables us to come alongside people, and to be with them.

That is a message for any of us facing retirement, and who may be proud of our achievements. It is a message for us as we enjoy this experience of being this Iowa Episcopal branch of a much broader and greater Jesus movement.

Finding the simple way. Finding the simple way. I don’t know what we expect will happen with that theme as we move forward. I don’t think we really know. We borrowed it from Shane’s community, really.

Maybe it’s about “strategic review?” Maybe it’s about sharing our resources that way? Maybe it’s about dismantling the entire diocesan structure altogether? So that the time we have can be more among the poor? So that the energy we have can be more for justice? So that the money we have can be better distributed among the needy? What kind of constitutional amendment do we need to perform that? To say that we don’t come only to our churches as much, or any more? We come into our neighborhoods. And we support the churches in our neighborhoods with our neighbors, and join in what they are doing. And if there is no such place, then we will  provide our own. I don’t know I’m just talking off the top of my head. (Or maybe the bottom of my heart!)

What would it look like? How can we make these structures of ours pliable, more porous so that we can make decisions about what we do with the circumstances and events we are faced with, and given? And how can we do that and still stay grounded in place as Anglicans?

You know, I invited a man (in Shane Claiborne) to come among us who ended up in that kind of community. And I wanted his witness to percolate among us on how that might work for us. And so, bring it to your vestries, bring it to the Board meeting, bring it to your living rooms as you gather together. Think about these things. How can we really get alongside people and not just be institutionalized in everything, everything we do?

Finding the Simple Way is a call to “humble ourselves in the sight of the Lord,” before the presence and desires of our Loving Creator God, and to follow where Jesus leads us to go. He needs us to go very small indeed. We have to squeeze into those places where He squeezes in. And there’s no place for self-righteousness there, just as there is no place for contempt of others there. And this includes all sides of our current political factions, and our cultural divides.

There is no place for self-righteousness on the one hand, and no place for contempt on the other. And that is a hard requirement in such an age as this. “God, have mercy upon us” is our daily prayer and with it comes the promise that it is such voices that God will lift up to do remarkable things in Christ’s Name, and the question is—can it be done through us?

So I invite you to embrace with abandon the promise of God that we receive through Joel; to let the Spirit be released upon us, within us, and through us; to act with boldness because our feet are invited to be set firmly on the ground, and all self-aggrandizement is pushed aside for the sake of God’s love. And having settled that score with ourselves and with God, we let the Spirit of God take us where She will.

Donna and I are terrible gardeners. And we invite you to our garden any time if you are in need of some good weeding. I thought Creeping Charlie was a friend, but now he’s a carpet. So, we are not good gardeners, but God seems to have used us as spiritual gardeners.

As I say, Donna and I have always been soil turners and planters in this spiritual thing somehow. We rarely see the fullness of the harvest. We see God’s reviving spirit among the people we have served as we drive away looking through the rear-view mirror. Time and again that has happened with us. Even in Eagle Rock, where we were for thirteen years, the church was closed last year. But now we see resurrection.  The Church was closed and the keys handed over to the Bishop. He in turn handed them to some young people and said “Here, I have a church for you.” And they have transformed the place and  become instruments of God's resurrecting spirit. And if I dare say it—they are fulfilling all the wishes and dreams that we may have had together when we were there with the people of God at St. Barnabas.

It is true that I have secretly tried to do a deal with God that we would see a harvest in our time here; but who knows? I do see it in the seventy percent of active clergy I have been blessed to ordain; and, certainly in the new group coming through to be ordained as transitional deacons this December. I see it in all those amazing ideas you have had for Engaging All Disciples; your ways of responding to the call for prayer during the Revival; the amazing ongoing march of new generations of young adults and youth into leadership; in the generosity towards our companions; and in the growing deep involvement of you all in your communities, bringing the values of the gospel into your spaces.

Yet, turning to our Old Testament text for a moment, nothing of that ranks with what God promises in Joel. We do not live necessarily in drought plagued places so that the concept of a full early and later rain does not mean as much to us as it did for the children of Israel. Maybe there are similarities to other agricultural situations you have experienced. But I remember what it meant in Swaziland when the rains broke upon us as we sang the Sanctus in a small mission church. The rains clattered the corrugated iron roof. And the people heard this joyful thundering after experiencing months and months of drought. It was like the heavens opened and the angels and archangels were cheering with the people for what had come upon them. God says that such refreshment of the rains will come. The floors of the threshing halls will be filled with grain, and the vats will overflow with oil and wine.

And those external blessings will be more than matched by an overflowing expression of the exuberance of the Spirit. Sons and daughters will proclaim God’s word on things. All generations including the elders will dream dreams, even if they might not all live to see them fulfilled.  And it will be the younger generations who will turn those dreams into vision and reality.

The followers of Jesus experienced this happen to them. They made the connection at Pentecost with Joel’s words.

And so, my prayer is, will you? I pray that there be a time when the life of the Spirit is so pulsating through your veins and your hearts, that somewhere in the midst of it all, you look back and you say to one another - remember when we held those Revivals? Remember when we were trying to share, or learning to share God’s love? Remember when we walked those neighborhoods? Remember when we gathered to learn how to welcome, invite, connect; and when we sought how to connect with this new generation now entering the digital age?  Remember those creative ways to renew our liturgy, and to create new worship spaces?  Maybe we didn’t think then that we knew what we were doing. Somehow, we found ourselves doing “silly things sometimes” in our enthusiasm to bring change in Jesus' Name? Remember all that? All of it, in all of it are the expressions of the real Pentecost that can happen among the people of God.

America loves awakenings. Somehow as a people, you have to have an awakening every now and then. You’re a sensational people; you love sensation; and God knows that. So you have a history of sensational awakenings of the Spirit. What we have been messing around with over these past few years (since the Revival 2017) is precisely “messing around.” We’ve been dipping our toes in the water and not yet plunged in. Joel’s image is of something far more amazing.

Joel, we will say, was right. The Spirit has come upon us; and we have humbly submitted to Her. And we hear God calling everyone through us to find their way back to God, just as we have.  Wouldn’t that be great? Can’t you imagine? Can’t you feel it? Can’t you just reach out and grab it? And, let the Spirit into yourselves as the people of God?

You know once we are all a bubble with the Spirit of God at work in us, God will still bring alive all of our traditions, all of our liturgies, all of our beautiful renderings of worship and being together. But that won’t be the primary conversation. We will be taken up with something else. We will notice what we’ve not noticed much before; and we will notice with love, people we’ve not noticed before. And we will ask questions about their situation we’ve never raised before. All these things will be about how God’s love can be made known here and there and everywhere.

You know, once again this February, we are going to be reminded that we in Iowa are positioned to test our nation’s political realities. And I want to ask: is it possible that this is a particular charism or calling of the Iowa people? I don’t know the background of the creation of the caucus and how you became the first voting group in the country, but I know that you take great pride in it. And you do well in sorting through the first candidates in the election process. So I think it is why we are also called to try out and test things of the Spirit. It is in such fertile souls as yours that God can now reap the great harvest.

So, my prayer is that God so works within us and among us this year, as we go and walk and take the bold steps into our neighborhoods; and that we will see what God is already doing, and what is not being done, and that for which God waits for us to partner with God to do. We are being called to see our neighbors how God sees them. To let them know, whether they know it or not, that they are Beloved. There is absolutely no limit to how all that can be expressed, experienced and enjoyed.

Let us pray,
Lord, I am no longer my own, but Yours. Put me to what You will. Rank me with whom You will. Let me be employed by You, or laid aside for You, exalted for You or brought low by You. Let me have all things. Let me have nothing. I freely and heartily yield all things to Your pleasure and disposal. And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father Son and Holy Spirit, You are mine and I am Yours. So be it.
Amen