The visitation to St James, Oskaloosa, could not
have come at a more fitting time. This week we receive Anthony Robinson, author
of Changing the Conversation: A Third Way for Congregations as our keynote speaker for Baptismal Living Day. This is also the diocesan
book I have suggested for study during Lent, and in many ways it was written
with churches like St James in mind. The people of St James in Oskaloosa are
concerned for their future, but not anxious. They have one or two young
families, and a priest whose family has grown up among them this past decade
and is now down to a high school junior and a freshman. Eighteen months ago,
the Senior Warden presented me with a series of questions regarding resources
for their development as a congregation, and we both lamented on the lack of
follow-through on both sides after initial efforts to continue the
conversation.
As a congregation, St James is financially self-sufficient,
with a part time priest, Terry Kleven, who is a professor at Central College in Pella.
They also want to pay attention to ways to develop in their mission
while their vitality level is good. The town of Oskaloosa is one of those that have
difficulty keeping the younger generation as it begins to look for its own
livelihood. And so the gap between generations, which is all too familiar in
Episcopal Churches, has opened up. The other familiar theme is that those young
families who stay in town are more attracted to the large community
fellowships, like Gateway, which greets you on the outskirts as you drive in
from Des Moines. As regards our young adult initiative in the diocese, the
people noted that there is William Penn University in Oskaloosa, which is a Quaker-based
school. They were not too sure how to
provide ministry into that community, and noted that even through Fr Kleven
they do see student visitors from Central College in Pella.
Robinson would tell them that this is evidence that their
issues are not all about them, but evidence of the changing context of our
mission field. We spoke about the
significance of spiritual practices, which in some ways I had preached about
that morning, as something people are seeking and that there is less interest
in religious affiliation. People do
however want to be part of groups that can bring enlightenment and are keen to
make a difference in society at large, and especially in a focused way.
Urgency, focus, prayerfulness, mission-centeredness, God-centeredness and becoming
a discerning culture—these are aspects of a renewed community of faith
according to Changing the Conversation.
In my sermon, I spoke of John Newton as one whose initial perception of people was, in reality, darkness—for as a
slave merchant, he saw people as things to be bargained for and without dignity
or worth. Later, Jesus brought him into the true light, which was nothing less
than the light of God’s own loving gaze upon God’s people. He was able to see
their full blessedness and belovedness. And so he wrote “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.” That light which Jesus claims to be, He also passes
on to us, calling us the Light of the World, a city set upon a hill which
cannot be hid. As we cultivate life
within this gift, we have a precious gift to offer those around us. It is a
light which will draw them to God.
I must add that in our conversation, the now familiar topic
spurred by the controversial Iowa
Connections piece on small churches (scroll down to pg. B)
by Rev. John
Thorpe came up. “There’s some truth to
what was written,” said one person, “but is there help from the Diocese in
learning how to be more civil with one another, or how to have conversations
that do not become conflicted?” It was an opportunity to talk about the value
of the Indaba process which has been used now not only at
Convention but also in parochial annual meetings and soon at Chapter meetings
as we gather information to help guide our budget priorities for 2015.
A new discovery for me since my last visit was that the ELCA Southeastern Iowa Synod has no congregation in Oskaloosa. There are Wisconsin and Missouri Synod Lutherans but no ELCA, with whom we are in full
communion. This seems to me a fruitful possibility of new development. Around
The Episcopal Church there are more than 200 congregations that are joint
Lutheran-Episcopal. Bishop MichaelBurk, of the ELCA Southeastern Iowa Synod, and I have spoken about this previously. There was
willingness for me to explore it further on their behalf, which I promised to
do. We will also seek to reconnect about that list of questions from last time,
which are still pertinent. I sensed that St James might try to send
representatives to the Baptismal Living Day on Saturday.
Sermon at St James Episcopal Church, Oskaloosa—30 March 2014
The way we see things and people can be a tricky subject. It
can also be easily manipulated by others. Recently, Donna and I saw a Netflix
movie in which the lead actress falls in love with a man who turns out to be
the ex-husband of a client who is fast becoming a friend. The client
persistently complains about her ex-husband and his bad habits which seems
quite harmless until the lead actress realizes that this is the same man she
has begun to date. Of course, it is easy to imagine what happens: Suddenly she
notices all those “bad habits” and the relationship is jeopardized. In fact,
her perception of the man she was falling in love with is poisoned by the way
another saw him. It was hard to see straight again and certainly with the eyes
of love and attraction.
I know that it is a trite illustration for something as
significant as a sermon. But today’s lessons are all about how we see things,
and that implication is that many times what we think is an enlightened way of
seeing things may actually be darkness or blindness. All of this we notice in
the wonderful story of the man born blind whom Jesus heals. I love the
interactions between the Pharisees and the man’s parents and eventually the man
himself. John’s message of who is really seeing straight and who is blind is
clear.
We begin, however, in the Old Testament, with the choosing
of David. “Don’t look merely at appearances,” God tells Samuel who is being
sent to Jesse to select Israel’s new King. Samuel goes through all seven of
Jesse’s strapping sons—all of them what we might call “a man’s man.” Ironically,
David is described as being handsome, with beautiful eyes and a ruddy
complexion—all characteristics that would set him apart in our age of Hollywood
stereotypes or advertisers’ markers of what counts for strong male leads. Not
so, it seems, in the Middle East. I suspect David’s features were considered
more fitting for a woman than a man, If you will forgive me daring to tread in
a region of potential sexism. Anyway, whether it was his age or his size or his
lack of ruggedness, Jesse never expected him to be the kind of person who would
rule other men and be counted as King. The other seven brothers did not get the
“nod from God,” who was looking on the heart rather than the outer appearance.
David, however, was a sensitive soul, a person with a marked
spiritual quality, and that was what God was looking for. Samuel had eyes that
saw beyond the obvious and into the hidden character of the soul. Once he
looked there, he could see God’s chosen. A shift in perspective was needed on
Samuel’s part, as well as for Jesse who had never given David a second look, as
it were.
In our epistle Paul puts all of this in terms of living in
darkness and receiving light. That is how he would describe where Jesse was and
initially even Samuel. We see but our sight itself observes nothing. It is as
if we are in the darkness.
What we believe we see in others and in situations around us
is linked with the question of where we turn for the light. A self-centered
focus for our life helps only see from the perspective of our own needy sinful
nature. In fact we mask most of that behavior in such a way that our true
nature, and certainly God’s true nature within us, is hidden. Our choices tend
to come up shallow or surface, often about the obvious and the immediate. Paul
invites us to a way of seeing that is illumined by the fresh outlook which
Jesus can bring. Jesus Himself said, “I am the light of the world.” He invites
us to let His light shine within us to reveal our shortcomings but then direct
our attention to what is merciful, forgiving, and of love. He also shows us our
true potential as children of God, the potential of our spiritual nature.
For at the center of our inner beings we are mirrors—made to
reflect the images of God, reflecting the marvels of God just like the Hubbell
telescope captures the mysteries of a far-flung universe. One of my favorite
verses, even from my youth, is found in 2 Corinthians, 3:18: “And all of us
with unveiled faces seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflecting in a
mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to
another, and this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.” When our bumper stickers
say “God is not finished with me yet,” this is the reason why.
Paul had experience a major shift of perspective. He now
followed the Jesus whom He once persecuted through going after His followers.
To see straight and true again, he had to pass through actual blindness after
his vision of Christ on the Damascus Road. So when he wrote about moving from
darkness into light, he knew of what he was speaking. He came to understand
this new light within him to be the Spirit of Jesus—the restorer of God’s image
within himself, and within each of us.
Through what eyes do you view the world around you, and your
fellow human beings? How do you see the Church and your part within this
community of faith? What might seem light to you now, but to God appears as
though we still live in a dark place of shallow insight?
The promise is that we can have a new way of seeing. We can
be like the blind man in John’s Gospel and can say “once I was blind but now I
see,” a line captured in that wonderful hymn “Amazing Grace.” John Newton, the author of “Amazing Grace,” once saw people as property, as slaves to be
shackled, horded, and sold—things to make profit from. This was until Jesus
helped him see by His amazing grace that everyone was a child of God worthy of
freedom, dignity and love.
We are called to see the “terrific thing” that is in one
another—this is phrase which comes from the novel The Jewel in the Crown.
It refers to the experience of an old missionary who had reached that invisible
age that sets upon all of us in time, where to other people we retreat into the
shadows (which are really their shadows, in fact). A young woman, however, had
come to appreciate the old missionary and saw the terrific thing within her—the
eternal perspective which God sets upon each of us. Can you imagine the
community that can grow out of such mutual respect and attention, from such
constant gazing upon each other in love? We would not talk over, or upstage or
over-shadow one another as we tend to do, and we would instinctively know whose
wisdom have we not yet heard from in our group.
We have that opportunity in Christ to see the incredible
thing God sees in us all, and in the Church and in the human race. We will also
open ourselves to see God’s sadness at those times as Jesus looked over
Jerusalem and wept, for there were children without a mother.
Jesus said, “I am the Light of the World.” He also said to
His disciples, “You are the Light of the World, and a city set upon a hill
cannot be hid.” We are those disciples for our age. “Open my eyes, Lord, and
let me see Jesus. And in so seeing, may I begin to see as He sees, and rejoice
in all that is before me.”
Amen
