Bishop's Blog

Bishop Scarfe shares his experiences, reflections, and sermons.







Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Reflection on visitation to Christ Episcopal Church, Cedar Rapids—16 February 2014



I was not certain what to expect as I visited Christ Episcopal in Cedar Rapids. Even our strongest congregations go through periods of change, and that certainly had been the experience of the leadership there in recent times. And what I saw were signs of new life, of people coming home to Christ from all walks of life. There was also the customary group of young people eager to witness to their faith as part of the “Confirm, not Conform” curriculum for confirmation. I challenged one young man to be clear in what he meant by “being closer to God” as he referred to his pilgrimage time in South Dakota. He responded with a description of God revealed in nature that would have pleased the ears of the writer of Psalm 19. Paul’s words to the Corinthians that were part of our readings for the weekend seemed appropriate for a congregation committed to push on with ministry and mission, inviting new leaders into the mix. I joined in some of this later in the week when I revisited the congregation with The Episcopal Church Missioner for Domestic Poverty who also oversees Jubilee Ministries. We delivered food and materials for the Buddy Back Pack ministry to a local elementary school, as well as unpacked a fully loaded van of weekly goods for the food pantry that Christ Episcopal shares with Westminster Presbyterian Church. In the summer, the emphasis of the ministry shifts to a joint venture with the Methodists in providing lunches for children to help bridge the gap of no school meals.

Alongside the witness of the young people, we heard from people coming back to the Christian church after a time away. There were tears of joy and belonging. One young woman came forward as her young child played around her feet and around the sanctuary. I encouraged her not to worry and thought back to a time at the Niobrara Convocation of the Native American congregations of the Midwest, where a man whose daughter was playing around the room as he spoke reminded people that our children are often the Holy Spirit in our midst.

 It was a special blessing to see the response of those who had come to stand by the confirmation candidates and to share in the laying-on of hands. Another highlight was the decision of two elders of the 8am congregation to reaffirm their baptismal vows. Their car had broken down the night before and the weather was not helping their cause. But someone was able to go out and pick them up for the 10:30 service, and so they were able to be reaffirmed. Friends who had not been to the church for a while came just to share in this beautiful moment.

The weekend was unusual because each of the three services had its own groups of confirmands, receptions, and reaffirmations. On Saturday evening, the two dozen or so congregants had clearly grown into an intimate worshipping community. As is happening in other parts of the Diocese, the Saturday evening community is meeting a real need. This gathering has been able to develop a more casual way of worshiping, especially in the formation of a prayer circle for the prayers of the people. I met people ministering through a local radio station, ministry with the differently abled—a growing interest in adult formation—and expanding space for children and youth though their numbers are at the lower end of the cycle at the moment.


I would sum up the weekend through the meeting I had with a newcomer, a fellow Englishman, who had just arrived in Cedar Rapids from time in the South. This was his first time at Christ Episcopal. He had spent forty years away from his Anglican roots, but the time had come for him to rekindle his spiritual journey. He enjoyed what he had found there and was pleased to be a part of the community’s growing edge. I remain convinced that we have not even begun to encounter how many of us are on similar paths. At Living Stones last week, our keynote speaker said that faith development analysis tended, until recently, to account for a person’s developmental stages up to about age 55. “If I want to live another thirty years,” the speaker said, “that’s a lot of time to get ready to die!” She insisted that there are more stages of faith development beyond age 55, and it is about time the Church harvested this reality. I thought about my trip to Fort Dodge immediately after our Convention discussion on Young Adults, and wondered why my mind was moving to consider what can we do for the elder end of our population? The Spirit always moves us to the next thing. I sense that happening at Christ Episcopal Church Cedar Rapids. I found myself again looking ahead to the next visitation in September 2015, and thinking I can’t wait to enjoy the growth I will see.     





Sermon at Christ Episcopal Church, Cedar Rapids, 16 February 2014
 
Readings: Epiphany 5: Deuteronomy 30: 15-20; 1 Corinthians 3: 1-9; Matt 5: 21-37


In a few moments I am going to ask a few people a couple of questions, and then I will ask all of us about what we believe regarding the nature and revelation of God and the implications of that faith for our behavior, particularly toward one another.  All of the readings for today leave us in no doubt about the seriousness of all of this.

Mahatma Gandhi appreciated the Sermon on the Mount. Yet when he was asked if he had ever thought about becoming a Christian, he answered “Maybe I would if I could find one.” An excessively harsh condemnation, we might all say, and yet he was taking Jesus at His word, and especially those we have heard today in the Gospel reading. Who among us can say that we do not need to kneel in remorse and penitence at how far we fall short of Christ’s talk about anger, contempt, lust, and deceit? Paul says that it is because we all fall short of the glory of God, and it is precisely that glory of God in humanity made in God’s image that we fail to honor in the circumstances Jesus portrays.

A few days ago I was in Las Vegas—not because the Diocesan funds were running low—but because that happens to be where the dioceses that engage in intentional ministry development have been meeting these past few years. It is a strange mix of experiences. The Bishop of Nevada greeted us and invited us to put aside our moral outrage and our cultural distaste. I am not sure I did very well. One morning as I walked along the Strip looking for breakfast at Denny’s, I thought about the plaque that stands in the center of Louisville, Kentucky, which marks the spot where the mystic Thomas Merton had an epiphany. It depicted the words of Merton who said that he experienced an overwhelming sense of love for the people coming and going around him. I was certainly not there that morning and I was struck by the gap between his experience and mine. I was not honoring my neighbor at that moment.

And so it is with earnestness that we ask our confirmands and those being reaffirmed and received today: Do you reaffirm your renunciation of evil? And do you renew your commitment to Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord? And as with every occasion when we are witnesses of the vows of others—whether it is today or at weddings and so on—we find ourselves mouthing our own response along with the participants and say “Yes, with God’s help.” This is all about God’s help.

So what happens when we suddenly find ourselves boiling over with anger or resentment, or, even more seriously, slowly growing in our anger and grudge bearing? Does the devil make us do it? Or is it just being human? And to expect otherwise is to be naïve?

The Bible actually says it is both things. Paul challenges the Corinthians for following their “human inclinations.” In the famous passage from 1 Peter which we come across in the Night Prayer of Compline, we read “Be sober, be vigilant, for your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”

We don’t use devil language much these days, though we may admit to evil’s presence among us. But we don’t have to be of the Middle Ages to take this warning seriously. There is a great truth within it that endures to our times. Paul calls our behavior—when we indulge the dark side of our being—evidence of our spiritual immaturity. This is what he asserts about the Corinthians in that they have “quarreling and jealousies” among them. I am not sure what he means by the “milk of the Word.” It is a reference to only being able to share the rudimental tenets of the faith, and not its deeper learnings. I am thinking that perhaps it is a reference to the things we receive from God—forgiveness, the assurance of salvation, that Jesus died for our sins and rose again for our eternal life. These are one way gifts of grace ask nothing of us but to believe. We are like children dependent upon our mother’s milk. There is a sense in which we are lacking in consciousness or enlightenment, which is one way of describing spiritual growth.

But what is the meat of God’s Word? I doubt that it is the intricacies of the doctrine of the Trinity or the articulation of Christ’s dual in one nature as being fully human and fully God. Given Paul’s context, I believe that it is about the application of what we believe. If God has so loved you, then you must love your neighbor. We move from that realization of being loved by God, and all the joy and peace that brings, to recognizing that we must be instruments, agents, of love to one another. I was a long way from that connection as I walked along the Las Vegas Strip, and far away from Merton’s revelation, and far from the meaty discipline and hours of contemplation and time given over to God that brought it about.

The quarrelling of the Corinthians was about personalities and personal preferences. They had been evangelized by several people, especially Paul, as we know, but also by someone called Apollo who was a very charismatic character by all accounts. It is possible that Peter had also come through that way for some claimed to be “of Cephas.” And of course, as even today, if there is to be a disputing between groups there is always one group that wants to claim to go back to the original source and so we have those who claimed to be “of Christ.” Ever notice how no one wants to be known as the 22nd Church of Christ? It is always First Baptist, or perhaps at the least Third Church of Christ; no lower!

Paul’s point with all of this was that the Corinthians had mistaken the servants for the deity they served. The dispute is about following a servant rather than acknowledging that as servants we are only such, and that everyone depends upon the gracious action of God. We might plant and water but God alone gives the increase and to honor the servant above the Master is itself idolatry.

In the days of Gene Robinson’s election—which does seem somewhat distant these days (Gene was the first partnered gay man to be elected a bishop in the Episcopal Church)—I went to a church where the parents would not allow me to confirm their children because I was deemed unworthy for approving Gene’s election. In the same place, a clergy person came toward me on one side of the aisle and waited to make sure I had noticed him, and then, in protest, moved over to take communion from the priest serving at the other side of the aisle. It was hurtful, and I did not actually bring it to anyone’s attention; instead, I let it go. But Paul would say that it was a sinful act of idolatry—failing to recognize the sovereignty of God in the sacramental life through which even a perceived soiled hand cannot limit the grace of the Spirit and the nourishment of the Presence of Christ in the Bread and the Wine. In some way it seems to me even more powerful to pass through your anger and contempt or sense of judging righteousness, and come to Jesus no matter what.

You are simply not ready, Paul says, if you behave in this divided and divisive way. But not ready for what?

I would say: not ready to learn what is beyond anger and contempt and what we perceive as our self- protection; we are not ready to know what it means to forgive others and to seek to ask forgiveness, even if it is not given; we are not ready to experience the freedom of offering margins of grace to others; or the joy of being persecuted for righteousness’ sake. Yes, Jesus calls this a blessing. We are not ready for the peace that passes understanding, and the love from which nothing can separate us.

Elsewhere in Galatians chapter 5, Paul contrasts the fruits of the flesh—including anger, lust, jealousy—with the fruits of the Spirit—joy, peace, kindness, gentleness, love. And we forget where he himself started out!  When we first come across Paul, he is breathing self-righteous anger against the Christian Church. They are blasphemers in his eyes, and there he is at Stephen’s stoning—the first Christian martyr. His anger drives him on the road to capture and bring to justice as many blasphemers as he can. How then did such a man manage, years later, to write to the very same Corinthian Christians who were having difficulty with their relationships these words: “If I gave away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind; love is not envious or boastful. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrong doing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

How did such a man write such a beautiful poetic prayer? Above all Paul allowed himself to be loved by God so thoroughly that he was ready to let the fruits of the such love grow within his own behavior and attitudes. When he spoke of us becoming new creations in Christ Jesus, he spoke from his own experience. He knew it was possible as a hope for the Church.

So what do we want to do with God’s Word today? We have already acknowledged it with our words in saying, “Thanks be to God.” How further can we show our gratitude?

Each section of the Gospel passage deals with our relations with our fellow human beings. Again we will soon ask our confirmands about that, as we ask them and us together if we will serve Christ in all persons and respect the dignity of every human being. Dignity – Respect – Honor – Truthfulness—these are what I hear Jesus calling into being within each of us. God is as much about our thought life as God is about our actions.  This is the inner work of the Church, the inner work of the Holy Spirit within each of us. It is tackling that gap between me on the Strip and Merton’s Louisville experience. God seeks to make us holy. And this is not just for our sakes, but for our effectiveness as co-workers with God in the transformation of the world.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer in commenting on this passage of the Sermon on the Mount in the book The Cost of Discipleship says that the invitation to leave our gift at the altar and make peace with our brother or sister is about the nature of true worship. Our very worship is to be deemed as hollow if we cannot take care of our inner disposition and our external relations.

So what is to be done? One extreme might be to take a leaf out of those hotels or restaurants undergoing renovation where you read “Closed for renovations.” What if we were to close and leave our gifts at the altar and make amends with our brothers and sisters and our neighbors? Less extreme may be the sign “Sorry for our mess; it is for your better service” or at least the bumper sticker “God is not finished with me yet.”

In AA there is a step of recovery called restitution when you make amends with those you have hurt or with whom you are at odds.  A couple of years ago I received a letter from a man who was angry at my decision over the same issue I referred to earlier. Over time he had noticed that my position had not changed, and that I was acting on principle, which he was willing to acknowledge even though he still disagreed with me. He wanted to say sorry for his inner attitude, and even warned me that when we next meet he might give me a hug. We did meet and he did hug me—and he was a strong, large Iowan.  I had no idea of his inner thoughts or process but God was at work with him on another plain.

The Sermon on the Mount is not idealistic, or a foretaste of an eternal stage of life, or even established just for a few saintly types. Like every good coach, Jesus sets the bar that seems incredibly high to us, but He knows what we can accomplish and what it means to be a human being restored in the image of God. His is a vision of the world transformed by the gracious actions of a Living and Loving God. The vision is carried out through God’s very servants, yes, like Paul and Apollo, but also like all of us—those who are with us today, those who were once part of us, and these who are right now offering themselves to God in the confirmation of their faith.

“Love bears all things; believes all things; hopes all things; endures all things.”

Love is God Incarnate in Jesus Christ.

Love in Jesus Christ is Incarnate in each of us through the work of the Holy Spirit.

When faced with impossible odds, the disciples once asked, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus’s answer to them is His answer to us: “All things are possible with God.”

“I will, with God’s help.”

Amen