Bishop's Blog

Bishop Scarfe shares his experiences, reflections, and sermons.







Thursday, August 14, 2014

Reflections on visit to St Timothy’s, West Des Moines—22 June 2014



The people of St Timothy’s do their fair share in providing leadership for the Diocese of Iowa. Not only can they boast of the Diocesan Treasurer and Chancellor, they can also lay some claim to our Young Adult Missioner, Lydia Bucklin, and her replacement as Youth Missioner, Lacey Howard. I have also ordained five people from St Timothy’s starting with Duncan Burns, Mitch Smith, Brian McVey, Jeannie Smith and, on the occasion of this visit, Karen Crawford. Add Tim Goldman and his work for social justice and Mark Marshall on the Faith and Grace Garden, or Dan Montgomery who worked hard on the health insurance task force, or Ray Gaebler’s chairing of the Property Committee as well as the Nzara Companionship, along with the group that has visited Nzara in South Sudan and their tireless work for that diocese inspired much by Milton Cole-Duvall’s energy, and you get a sense of Diocesan impact and indebtedness over the years.

Karen was Senior Warden only a few years ago, but this weekend was her ordination to the priesthood. She was to have a baptism of fire in that Rector Mary Cole-Duval was heading for sabbatical at the end of the Sunday service (or at least the vestry meeting with me which followed it), and Karen was to assume temporary duties in her place.

Glorious as the ordination was on Saturday evening, it was not made the only focus of the weekend. The next morning, our emphasis shifted onto the young people to be confirmed. They had met together for two years going through the “Confirm not Conform” program. Significantly, the shift was made tangible by setting up a chair for each confirmand before the altar, facing the congregation. At the ministry of the Word each confirmand got up to give his or her signatory scripture passage, telling us why he or she had chosen it. The range of scriptures covered a wide theological spectrum that truly became a comprehensive statement of our faith and responsibility. It was probably hubris of me to add a sermon to the event, pulling in the Gospel of the day, which I invited the deacon to read at the beginning of my sermon.

Yet, the Gospel was about the cost of discipleship, which is a topic I often think about for the young people who stand before me for confirmation. It is probably not a fair comparison, but I reflect on the young people of a similar age whom I got to know in Romania whose decision to follow Christ was at least career-threatening if not life-threatening. Coming fast on the experience of confirming a couple of very young sisters in Dubuque, I wonder what the ideal time for such affirmation is. A key, I think, is to be found in the degree we are able to present, or support, opportunities for service from the earliest of age. People follow Jesus to make a difference in the world—or to assist the transforming work God seeks to do. Poverty, homelessness, peace, refugees, economic justice, bullying, and finding ways to be instruments of God’s love and grace in the face of such things is about our involvement with people in daily life. We also follow Him because we believe He has the words that are life giving for every situation. Creating movements out of confirmation classes is a real challenge.


Establishing, however, how important all this is to the community of faith is a sound step, and the row of chairs declared that on Sunday. The messages offered lived up to the significance. I have attended the “Confirm not Conform” liturgy in other places but often we hold the “teaching moment” at a service prior to the main Eucharist. I encourage us to rethink this, and to be bold to incorporate it as the shape of that day’s Eucharist.   




Sermon at St Timothy’s, West Des Moines—22 June 2014

2nd Sunday after Pentecost (Readings: Genesis 21:8-21; Romans 6: 1-11; Matt: 10:24-39)



 During the ministry of the Word, the confirmands came forward to offer their signatory scriptures to the congregation. These ranged from relating to God as Creator to aspects of stewardship as a disciple, of Jesus command to love and His assurance of love. It was an impressive expression of different scriptures, all chosen by each confirmand and not taken from someone’s pre-selected offerings. Each confirmand also gave one or two sentences on why this was an important biblical passage for him or her. I had interviewed the confirmands as a group earlier for additional reasoning for their choices. The presentation, however, was expected to replace the readings for the day, which I felt was unfortunate especially given the Gospel passage on the cost of following Jesus. That seemed very appropriate for the day, and so I opened my sermon with a summary of the other two readings, and then, as you see, called on the Deacon to come forward and read the Gospel.

Let me begin by saying what a marvelous range of personal and yet theological beliefs have just been expressed through the sharing of signatory scriptures by those to be confirmed. The spectrum covered is almost comprehensive when you think of the things most important and, as we say, “necessary for salvation.” I could easily move us along in the service to the Creed.

Lest however it be said we take the easy road on a Sunday when the lectionary lessons offer us little comfort and much in the way of heeding the weightiness of accountability that comes with deciding to follow Jesus and do God’s will, I feel obliged to add a summary of the essence of the lessons for this second Sunday after Pentecost.

I believe that they fit well into today’s celebration, and with yesterday’s ordination here. The question we pose as we stand ready to serve as priest in Karen’s instance or as empowered confirmers of faith is “What next, Lord?” or perhaps “What else do we need to do?” Nor could the rhythm of the liturgy be more suitable as we have just heard from these young people what it is that draws them into discipleship and into relationship with God. We have asked them “Do you embrace this growing freedom responsibly with a renewed commitment to Christ and the work of His Church on earth? To which they have all given us a resounding “We do.”

Jesus, however, would not have us aware of the cost of what lies before us, and so I call on the Deacon to bring us the Gospel.

(Matthew 10: 24-39 is read)

First, Jesus says to us “It is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher”—if they malign me and say I am of the devil—how much so you. Jesus brings light wherever he goes. He reveals what is true and He exposes that which requires darkness and secrecy to contain its power. He knows that people don’t tend to have courage to live life in the open, and be transparent in their dealings with each other. Yet God sees and uncovers. “What you hear whispered…proclaim from the housetops.”

Is it possible that we are being called to uncover darkness and its malignant destructive forces? Are we being asked to be God’s whistleblowers within society? To bring things into the light in such a way that people will know that when we are around, people know where they stand. It is hardly a popular role in society. But think of why Jesus died in the human terms of what got the authorities angry. He knew that He would incite the authorities because He revealed the true nature of their religious character simply by His own commitment to love and to the cause of all people as being treated a Children of God. He threatened their power base, their sense of being needed, and their entire system. It is also a system that we have been tempted over the centuries to replace, and we have yielded to that temptation.

My question to you is this: Are you part of God’s new prophetic vision? I encourage you to have confidence in what you confront or simply come across which runs contrary to your understanding of what it means to be a follower of Christ. Be instruments of transparency in our midst; and in society at large. Ask the simple and obvious question that probes to the heart of things. This is Jesus working in you.

Second, Jesus knows that such a prophetic role will require much courage. “Be not afraid,” Jesus says, for He wants you to know that God treasurers you. You are of more value than the sparrows. Think about that—“you are of more value”—more value than you might value yourself; more value than others might value you; more value because it is how much God values you in love that is important. In such a self-understanding, you are invited to not be afraid.

Third, Jesus brings a sword to the table. This is not to kil,l but to discern, to make clear the purity of your primary relationship and loyalty to God and God’s cause. Not even your most beloved family members and friends can be allowed to get in the way. Jesus challenges our most precious relationships, for resistance will come from all sides. Jesus knew this in His own life. At times it was His very family including His blessed mother that tried to stand in his way. They feared that He was insane at times.

As I said, this is not a sword with which to kill, but more like a surgeon’s knife. For, Jesus calls us to sort things out and to be free to stand wherever His love leads us. This is what it means to take up the cross and to assume the purpose which will require the offering of our whole life’s direction.

And what is that purpose? What is it really to follow Jesus? It is to desire the transformation of this world into something that reflects the true character of the reign of God, where the gifts and fruits of the Spirit are harvested among the entire human race; where God’s love rules. Achieving this is a full life’s work.  Karen is called to do this now as a priest; the rest of you have the breadth of human vocation in your daily lives to carry this purpose out.

Finally, our task in the twenty-first century moving forward is broader than anything the disciples could have imagined. Their world was small—the Mediterranean at the most. It was also compact. Rome ruled and loyalty was expected in that direction. Religions were tolerated but only as long as they did not threaten or impinge on the imperial rulers. Rome ruled like every other human empire has ruled and rules today (whether through governments or corporations or commerce or the military or even terror)—by oversimplification, by uniform expectations, by indiscriminate power, by separating peoples across class, economic, racial, ethnic, religious divides.  As much as a ruler can distract subjects by casting their worries and fears upon other ruled subjects, the less enforcement is needed from the top. It is all ruled by backroom politics. Those with power silence and intimidate potential competitors; or buy their way to manipulation. We see why Jesus called us to be children of light, proclaimers of truth, discerners of good and love?

Jesus came to broadcast whispers into the full light of day—for things to be seen for what they were. Jesus came to expose status and value systems that required idolatrous allegiance while declaring the utter value of every human being before God’s eyes. Jesus came to preach and offer a freedom to a social system where everyone has their place and is invited to flourish.

And He was removed for His efforts. But God valued Him more and His end was not the End but a transformation to New Life. In fact His death became an End into which we could all fit and find release from our old self-obsessed lives into a new life of grace and love and self-offering. Did you hear those words as we baptized today?

When we live for the security of our own system—be it personal, religious, economic or more broadly social—we are not following Christ. His values are taking a back seat or a secondary place in our values. To love and value anything, anyone, more than Me, says Jesus, is to be not worthy of Me.

So what IS next? Well, living this out is what is next. Transparency, discerning spirits, being consciously loving, courageous and bold, single-minded devotion and service where God is concerned, acquiring a love of life for God’s sake—these are the things that come next. And they are a lifetime’s work.

At every exposure of humanity’s darker elements, the Church—even when other parts of its life have been or are still deeply embedded within that darkness—manages to be there, shining light into dark places, upsetting places of privilege that are built on the disregard of others. We will never stop doing this or from being called to this. So what is next?  The rest of your life is next. Engage this life, bring Christ into its deepest corners, reveal truth, and be brave to tell us all what’s next.
                                                                                                                                                                                    Amen

Reflections on Visitation to Trinity Episcopal Church, Muscatine—15 June 2014



The pride and excitement among the people of Trinity Muscatine was palpable. Not only were they celebrating 175 years as a congregation, the oldest in the Diocese of Iowa, they were also dedicating the renovated parish hall with its new entrance and vestibule. In November 2011, I was rededicating the bell and bell tower after lightning had struck it and caused severe damage.  A year ago, we dedicated the Jubilee Community Center during my visitation. This time it was an occasion of much joy, typified in the congregational photograph, which followed proceedings on Sunday morning.

The first community of Episcopalians was formed in Bloomfield (now called Muscatine) at the initiative of Matthew Matthews, a layman who had come from Ohio. He gathered a group for prayer book services at his home, which soon became two house churches as we would call them. Bishop Kemper took some time to recognize that he was passing an Episcopal community as he sailed up and down the Mississippi visiting the missionary personnel he had placed in Dubuque and Burlington; eighteen months in fact. But by1839 he managed to stop in Bloomfield and confirmed several members of both congregations, also celebrating Eucharist with them. It was not long before a parish was formed; which became the building block for the Diocese of Iowa. In August 2003, as a new bishop fresh from the Minneapolis General Convention, I preached and presided at the 150th anniversary of the Diocese of Iowa, which was founded at Trinity Muscatine.

This event, however, was very much a celebration of the parish—recalling all the ups and downs that can happen within a community seeking to remain faithful to God over the decades. There is something important about not taking that ability to be still thriving for granted. It was a joy also to be able to present to the congregation a UTO grant of $2,500 toward their ministry through the Jubilee Center, especially to those who are differently abled.


The weekend had begun with an open house for the community and evening prayer in the form Matthew Matthews would have used in 1859. Donna and I were able to join the congregation for the evening banquet, at which several members spoke and messages from former Rectors were read. As I looked around the room I saw the impact that the congregation had over time on the Diocese and the leaders, like John Stevens and Elizabeth and Chuck Coulter that had come from them. I thought, too, of their support in past days of the Cursillo movement in Iowa as well as that of the current Diocesan Youth ministry. Their present Rector, Cathi Bencken, has done a marvelous job in spearheading the restoration not only of the building but of the people. It seemed only appropriate to be there on Trinity Sunday and to be able to ask the question in my sermon: What does it mean to be a people shaped by being named after the Holy Trinity?  


Sermon at Trinity Episcopal Church, Muscatine—15 June 2014



Most of us preachers are not very keen on the complex concept that meets us on Trinity Sunday. The collect of the day does not help; and yet because this was such a special anniversary—175 years from your founding —my mind wondered to ask the question, “What does it mean to have the Trinity as your Patronal Festival?” It is one thing to try and get your mind around the Trinity, but what impact does it have on you if it is your community’s named identity?

Let me put the question in a different context. I was rector of St Barnabas Episcopal Church in Eagle Rock, California. Barnabas was the son of encouragement—in other words a patron saint of easy identification. His name lent itself to our major work as a congregation—to encourage one another into confidence in ministry as baptized members of the Body of Christ. We certainly punched above our weight in developing a variety of ministries for such a relatively small group of people. I identified personally with Barnabas who had found Paul and given him a second chance when no one else would vouch for him. His split with Paul later was over a similar manifestation of the same characteristic as Barnabas was ready to give Mark a second chance and Paul would not. It was easy to find that spirit of encouragement to invite parishioners to discover their giftedness in the Spirit and their calling.

So I often see a connectedness between Patron Saints and a congregation’s identity. It stands to reason. Is it, however, more difficult when it is the Triune God that you are named after? Do you have to understand the name to be able to identify with it or be impacted by it? Can you grow into it? Can the “Trinity” inspire you?

Perhaps you have never given it any thought, but you could not be more wonderfully invited to such a reflection than through the words of the Apostle Paul marked out for this day; nor by an occasion any finer than this one as you celebrate 175 years of such patronal branding.

In England we are very familiar with the words of what we simply call “The Grace.” It is often customary to end church meetings or house groups with the invitation to recite together “The Grace” as offered to us in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, namely “The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you now and ever more.” It is a good custom and not as widely used here in the States, from my limited experience.

Through your name you are being shaped to be a people of grace, love and communion or fellowship. Given what you have gone through over recent years of our joint memories—what some might call the pre- and post-Rick Simpson years—how blessed it is to be the people of the Trinity in this special way! For, we can never underestimate the pull of the grace and love of God through Jesus Christ, nor the power of the invitation to be in communion with the Living God through the Spirit.

Your very name as the people of God in this place reminds you, and reminds you to remind the rest of us, of the nature of our character as made and restored in the image of God. So Paul says, “Live at peace with each other and the God of peace and love will be with you.”

Obviously as with everything our God puts before us, there is a choice. There is also expectation to put things in order; to agree with one another (which is not uniformity nor unanimity but a resolve to live at that deep level where you are learning to honor each person even if you have differing opinions); and to live in peace. What is promised for such a willing commitment is that the God of Peace and Love will, in turn, be with you.

So think what it means that this God revealed in Jesus Christ is One God, yet Three Persons—Unity in Diversity; Diversity in Unity. Think what this offers to a divided and polarized world and church. Think what it offers to our divided families and conflicted selves.

It means we never have to settle with being alienated from one another; or to nurse generations-old resentments—unless we choose to. For then we shut out the God of peace and love who seeks to be with us. It also means that we never have to be disarmed by the creative diversity of our individual giftedness in God. The recognition and enjoyment of each other’s gifts is how we work together as one in all.

For 175 years this has been your witness. The name by which you have identified yourselves has declared the reconciling nature of God—the God whose grace creates forgiveness and enough space for us to be forgiven and to start over; One God whose love knows no limits as to what has to be done to bring us back into relationship with God; One God who desires to live and work in communion with us so that the work we do is Divine work, Divine mission and Divine caring especially for those we would readily dismiss, neglect or overlook.

In today’s culture we need lives shaped by the Trinity; we need Trinitarian people. I mentioned elsewhere that I was coming home recently from a Conference on theGospel of Peace and Reconciliation in Oklahoma. On the plane I sat by a man who was clearly working on his sermon. I noticed he was about to preach on the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem for Palm Sunday. He asked me what I was going to preach on as he seemed to recognize my own reading or work. I mumbled something about Philippians 2: 5-11, offering the wider sweep of the liturgical path which we will follow during Holy Week. “Just give ‘em Jesus,” was his barked reply and I was left wondering how such words could nevertheless sound like such a slap in the face.

God did not just give us Jesus—nor did Jesus just give us Jesus. God was in Christ through the Spirit and is always in Christ through the Spirit—coming to us as Three yet One, and One yet Three. I always try and pray “To the Father, in the Name of the Son through the Spirit.”

This is vital for our culture because we divide over so many little things and as the world grows increasingly crowded and complex our natural response is fear and self-protectiveness. In that fear we separate—divide to conquer, or to preserve our control of our little patch of what is. In that fear we horde—grab what we can to claim as ours regardless of the needs of all. In that fear, we are at the mercy of the biggest and loudest among us often blaring through the many media sources; and we lose the capacity to hear the still small voice of the Triune God. In that same fear we can overplay one person of the Trinity above the others—creating sectarianism rather than the organic community of the people of God. That is probably the greatest and most ironic tragedy of all, and so much sorrow has come from it.

Trinity people, we need you to remind us of who we are and whose we are. We need to remember that God never presented God’s self alone, but as Three—so that we could see that we each need to be true to ourselves while knowing ourselves to be fully true only when in communion with each other—and we cannot pick and choose who the “each other” happens to be!

This is how Jesus can entrust all authority to His disciples. He never acts alone; nor is He alone acting. To that same end He sends us to the uttermost parts of the world; that ultimately the world in all its immense parts be one and in that oneness know its salvation and restoration into the image upon which it was made.

Trinity people, as ones closest to the source—lead the way. Lead us out of Muscatine, across Iowa and Illinois to the uttermost ends of the earth which is in fact never an end but someone else’s center. Jesus promises to be with us always, but never alone. He always is with us in the Father and through the Spirit. 
Amen