Be merciful, as our Father is merciful . . .

      God waited until the last minute, but He finally gave me my sermon illustration I needed for today.  Joshua was upset this am as the technology stuff was not working.  Comcast was here for a few hours while we were doing the Vestry retreat, so I am guessing the problem was not yet completely fixed.  Or maybe they created a new problem.  I am of the opinion the Comcast is an unholy owned subsidiary of Satan, as, perhaps, are all the telecoms and probably a few other companies if I spent some time really considering things.  Good.  You are laughing and realize it is a bit of humor and sarcasm with a hint of plausibility.

     Anyway, it drives Joshua nuts when things do not work the way they are supposed to work.  I was trying to calm him down and remember the serenity prayer that my maternal grandmother had posted a couple places in the house and I often heard her say.  I drew a blank, though, in the Vesting Room, which is crazy given the number of AA meetings that have been held at churches where I have served.  I told him the prayer asks God to give us strength and courage to change the things I can and the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and discernment to know the difference.  Then I shared with Joshua, as I was trying to recollect the prayer, that Grandma Kitty said it a lot around me.  I chuckled, as did he.  Then he said it was a good thing that I and mom did not have it posted in our house, because we would be saying it A LOT.

     I share the story not just to give you a laugh and a bit of insight into our family dynamic, but maybe to encourage you to think about your own family dynamics.  Families are crazy good at passing down dynamics and systems.  Counselors make a small fortune off us helping us to change unhealthy patterns and dynamics because they get implanted in us, handed down to us, whether we want them to come to our families or not.  I mean, really, how many of us men swore as kids we would never tell a bad dad joke when we were kids?  Be honest now.  How many of us men are now trying hard to outdo our dads or our grandfathers because we want to be the worst dad joke tellers in our families?  I think a couple of you are going to have to confess, given a few sheepish expressions.  lol  Families are the smallest unit of community, as Aristotle famously observed, so it makes sense that we are shaped and formed, for good or for ill, by those families of which we are a part.

     The Gospel reading in Luke today is very well known.  Many non-Christians even know most of this passage.  And I must confess, I think Robert Jensen, preached a good sermon on this that stuck with me, which is to say, if this ends up being a good sermon, thank him.  If it ends up being bad, that’s all on me.  The teaching comes after Luke’s account of the Sermon on the Mount.  Luke shares that Jesus gave those who heard both blessings and woes.  Rather than stop after pronouncing the woes, Jesus forges ahead to describe a new way of relating.  Really, it is the way God intended in the beginning, but the world has always chosen darkness of His light.

     All of the verbs about how to behave in the face of evil or ill treatment by the wicked are in the present, ongoing tense.  Love, do good, bless, pray, turn, offer, and give.  Jesus is citing a number of activities that happen in the world and instructing His disciples, and us, how to behave in light of what is happening.  Chances are, whatever is causing you anxiety in the world is addressed by one of those present tense verbs.  That is not to say that Jesus’ list is exhaustive.  In fact, Jensen argued that the verbs are meant to draw us in and cause us to add to the list with more specific examples of our own day.  You know, like be patient when the person ahead of you in the grocery check out line cannot get off the phone to check out or maybe still depends on checks rather than a debit card when finally paying.  Whoa, that was a groan!  I'm with you, sometimes I think the sin against the Holy Spirit described by Jesus is when they wait until everything is rung up and THEN they start looking for their checkbook.  lol  Jesus goes on to point out that when we honor people we like, love people who love us, give to people from whom we expect to be paid back, we are no different than the wicked or the sinners.  They treat people that way.  We have a different standard, however, because of the “money statement” of the passage.

     “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”  That’s verse 36 in our passage today, and it is in red letters in those Bibles that claim to stress Jesus’ words in them.  You and I are called into this family, we call the Church or, specifically in our case, Advent.  And it is here that we are expected to practice, to test this old way, the way God intended, for us to live, before we head out into the world to do it for real.  Y’all might not be surprised at the analogy, but you attend a church that has a “we are family” banner hanging from the parish hall walls and a mission statement that stresses our multi-generational effort to make disciples.  Sally shared that observation with the Vestry yesterday during the retreat.  We are a bit unusual in the Church.  But that unusual understanding makes us perfect for the work we have to do out there, manifesting the mercy of our Father in our lives, like any son or daughter manifests any characteristic of their parent.

     What do I mean?  First, that on-going process.  Think of the people whom we know who count themselves Christians because they declared one day they believed or they underwent a believer’s baptism.  When the stress is on the choice, what often happens?  There is not always growth, discipleship, and any manifestation of God’s character in the life of the so-called believer.  Look in the wider world over the events of the last couple weeks.  How many public professing Christians are rejoicing that people are losing their jobs or scared they might be losing the job thanks to the activities of Musk and the President?  I’m talking rejoicing.  A number of non-Adventers shared on my social media these last two weeks the fact that more than 12,000 homes went on the market in and around DC.  They are excited and rejoicing people are losing homes, that children are being uprooted from schools, that communities are being broken up, that uncertainty is being thrust upon people who were only doing the job for which they were hired and trained.  Do they really think Jesus would cheer such activities and results?  Do you?  But if you believe discipleship ends with the choice, it is easier to understand why some self-described Christians do not believe there is work yet to do, formation yet to occur. 

     Or what of the non-attending believer that loves to convince me they are really Christian?  I spend literal hours every year with strangers trying to convince me they are Christian.  Mind you, almost none are Episcopalian; most find their way into my office from other denominations.  My calling, though, as a professional Christian, is to ask if they gather to worship, to pray, to study, and to exhort and be exhorted, to comfort and to be comforted, to share the amazing things God has done in their lives and to hear what our Lord has done in the lives of those around them.  More often than not, they tell me they do not need to be in a community to worship God, that they pray when they need to, and that they can study a Bible any time they want.  The truly indignant, though, will express they cannot gather with others because there are too many hypocrites in the pews.  How many times have you heard me tell them they are right and that we have room for them, too?  When they are not worshiping God, when they are not praying to and listening to God, and when they are not studying what He has caused to be gathered into Scripture, their growth is stunted, or worse, goes in directions it should not, much like a plant that will bend toward a bright light in lieu of the sun.  There’s no worry on their part because they chose Jesus on this date or that date,  He has to accept them.  Because they do not study what He says, they do not understand the fear and trembling with which we work out our faith.  They do not understand the warnings and instructions He gives to all who hear Him.  They have forgotten that Jesus reminds His disciples that in serving the least we serve Him, and that in neglecting the least we neglect Him.  And the consequence of neglecting is not something anyone likes to ponder.  But that is work that begins in the church, where we wrestle with God, where we struggle with His teachings, where we are convicted by the Holy Spirit, and where we have our first glimmers of the transformative grace that He promises to all who call upon Him.

     You are liturgical Christians, so you know this even if you do not think about it.  We pray, we read what God caused to be written, a clergy preaches and teaches on one of the readings, then we re-affirm our faith, confess our sins, are absolved and share the peace.  Then, and only then, are nourished by the Sacrament, by the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.  What we are called to do, how we are called to live, is so counter-the-world, so different, that our Lord Christ on the night before He was betrayed instituted the Sacrament.  He knew before He walked that final path of mercy that led to Calvary.  We need that mystical nourishment, so oppressive is the world in which we live, in order to live in accordance with the perspective and the instructions our Lord gives and expects of us.

     Our first practice of mercy is likely in the Church.  It is in the Church that we are reminded we do not get to choose our families.  In this case, God does.  Y’all are laughing, but only because you had families in which to learn the truth of that axiom.  Church serves the same role for God’s family.  We learn to live out His teachings by working our spiritual muscles here.  Think of the Peace as a good example.  How hard is it to shake hands with or hug or kiss someone who drives us nuts, to say nothing about those with whom we are at enmity?  Yet that is precisely what Jesus instructs us to do, especially in our reading from this day.  And we learn from Paul that approaching that altar to eat His flesh and drink His blood without settling our disputes and asking to be forgiven for our sins, means we blaspheme the Sacrament and His teaching, we reject the mercy that only He can give.  We aggrieve His heart.  “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

     Over time, as we repeat this liturgy each week, each month, and each year, we come to realize the mercy which our Lord has shown us.  As we ask Him again and again to forgive us our sins, and are absolved, we are reminded of our own need for mercy.  And as we grow in understanding of our own need for mercy, we begin to realize the need of mercy for those around us.  We begin to internalize that they are no different from us, especially in God’s eyes.  And so, in time, we become heralds of mercy or, to use the language of Epiphany, we manifest mercy to those in the world around us, that God might be honored and glorified in our lives, and that others will turn to Him, and be saved.  The style of worship we use, the liturgy which was handed down by the Apostles, steeps us in God’s mercy so that we might be merciful, just as our Father is merciful.

     I get it.  It is hard work.  The better news, though, is that God understands how hard that work is.  He makes it clear in His Scriptures.  He makes it clear in the instructions He gave during the Incarnation.  He makes it clear in our liturgy.  All of that helps us to see in our own hearts our need for mercy.  And then reminded, restored, and nourished in His mercy, we are sent back out into the world to share His mercy with those whom we encounter out there.

     But that hard work comes with the promise of great reward in the end.  It is almost as if Jesus understood the human heart.  If we are merciful, we will be shown mercy.  Or, to use the red letters of Jesus, “for with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”  Those kinds of promises are scary, aren’t they.  How we treat others is how we will be treated by God when He judges us.  Jesus does not add the “by God” at the end.  But all of us have been in families long enough to understand that promise or threat.  God instructs us to be like Him, to repent when we fail, but to be like Him.  We should be mindful when we fail of His mercy and exhorted all the more to be merciful to others, that He will treat us in that loving way in which we long to be treated.  But we refuse mercy at our own peril.  We rejoice at the sufferings of others warned of dire consequences.

     I know today’s teaching is hard.  I get that for some it sets us up to be preyed upon by the wicked and the evil.  Such would be the risk, were Jesus not raised from the dead that Easter morning.  Because He was raised you and I know God’s power and will to redeem all things in the end.  We can show mercy and risk losing everything, even our lives, because we know Christ’s expression of mercy on the Cross and God’s power to redeem even that death.  He demonstrated that mercy to each one of us, long before we called Him Lord.  Reminded of that, and of His merciful heart, we are once again a sent people, sent to be merciful, as our Father is merciful, convinced that He has already conquered those evils which would destroy us or separate us from His presence.  We sent to be merciful, just as He is merciful.

 

In His Peace and Mercy,

Brian+

Invited, Inviting, and Reconciled by Him.

      If you are visiting or just wondering what is happening today, expecting an ordinary Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany, today is special in our history here at Advent and for the wider Episcopal Church as well.  Today, the Episcopal Church remembers the life and work of Charles Todd Quintard, the second rector of our historic parish.  In fact, his leadership during a turbulent time in our nation’s and church’s history, and God’s grace in his life and the lives of those whom he served, is what makes Advent an historic parish.  A number of Episcopalians are working to remove Quintard from your sanctoral calendar.  The thought is that Quintard must have owned slaves since, you know, he lived in worked in Nashville before and during the Civil War.  In fact, Quintard served as the Surgeon and Chaplain of the Nashville 1st Regiment.  How can someone have served in the Confederate army and not have been a bad person, right?  And the mere fact that he and the men of his parish fought against the Union also disqualifies him in the eyes of some.

     In truth, I would not care if they dropped Quintard for good reasons, but people seem lazy and unwilling to hold the lives of modern saints in tension, or, I suppose, they are lazy and do not look too closely at the saints that are described in the Bible.  Take your pick.  What makes a saint a saint is God’s grace at work in their lives.  Choose your favorite hero or heroine in the Bible.  None of them are superheroes of the faith.  They are ordinary men and ordinary women called by God to work which, in the end, is extraordinary and glorifies Him but accomplished through the obedient faith of the saint.

     But I do have those people to thank for this sermon, as do each of you, if you discern this to be inspired by the Holy Spirit.  I received a call about a month ago from someone outside the parish wanting to know what I had to say about Quintard, knowing he owned a slave named Henry.  It was a rather specific question.  Some years ago, I had looked for evidence that Quintard had owned slaves.  I had mentioned in worship and in small groups that I would not have been shocked to see that his wife’s family had gifted her slaves.  She came from a family of privilege in Georgia, and they likely would have thought nothing of providing her with slaves to help take care of the kids or the house or whatever.  But my searches were fruitless.  In fact, all the evidence was to the contrary.  There were no slaves in the Censuses.  Quintard did not show up on the government lists of slave owners.  Circumstantially, Quintard and Adventers were denied in their attempts to sign up for the War initially because they were “known Yankee sympathizers.”  In case you have forgotten your history, that was a horrible slur in the South in 1860, especially here in Nashville.  But Advent’s vestry allowed their slaves to worship with them, even while denying the slaves of those attending other parishes to worship with them.  Later, of course, Quintard was tasked by the House of Bishops with stemming the flow of freedmen to what would become the AME church.  He tackled that responsibility like he did all others.  A number of those enslaved before the War were ordained by him, and a few other bishops, to serve congregations in the South.  In fact, Quintard built a seminary dedicated to forming such men as priests on the campus of Fisk here in Nashville, lamenting but understanding its need.  And Quintard raised prodigious amounts of money to rebuild Sewanee and to build a number of churches in the South.

     I was intrigued and excited, though, because Henry was a rather specific name.  As I talked with this individual, I did some quick searching.  All references online about a slave named Henry belonging to Quintard when back to the same Sewanee website citation, which really was an assertion and not a citation, insofar as we expect in academic circles.  It seemed “accepted” that Quintard owned a slave name Herny, but everyone cited the same unproven source.

     I complained to Brian Stogdill that the annual effort of gotcha had started again.  For his part, Brian looked in the censuses and slave holder lists again.  Not only was Quintard not listed as slave owner, there was no mention of a Henry in his household.  I think it fair to say he was excited to do that digging.  Good.  He is nodding back there!

     That freed me up to follow other rabbit trails for today.  One of the challenges of preaching on the same subject and passages every year is getting stale or boring.  As the good folks at St. Stephen’s reminded me, the Bible is meant to point us to the Living Word, namely Jesus.  It should never be boring or repetitive.  In January, I had no idea for my sermon today.  But God made that rather obvious as I continued my rabbit trails.  Y’all will be the judge as to whether it is stale or exhorting or anything else.

     Our Gospel lesson from Luke today is the parable of the Great Banquet or Great Feast.  The story is well known.  The master of the house plans a feast and invites people.  Everyone is excited to attend when invited.  When everything is ready for the feast, though, everyone begs off.  One invitee buys some property, another purchases some oxen, and another gets married.  They explain to the master’s slave that they have to look at the property or test the oxen or hang out with the new spouse.  You and I would theologically call these BS answers.  Good.  You are laughing.  The master also knows that none of these excuses are real.  Were his invitation important to them, they would have done their work before this day or sent their regrets about getting married upon receipt of the invitation to the feast.

     The master is furious.  So he tells the slave to go to the lanes and alleys, the immediate area surrounding the town or the city, and invite all whom he finds.  The slave does as he is told.  When he reports back, he tells the master he has done as ordered, but the hall is not filled.  This informs us that this a Great Feast, with room and food for lots of people.  Clearly this master is rich, which means nobody would ever NOT show up after accepting the invitation.  The master then sends the slave out into the countryside to pack the room, which the slave does.  Then comes the terrible judgement: those whom he invited, who rejected his invitation, will not share in his feast.  Jesus shares the parable in response to the guy who proclaims, in response to Jesus’ instruction that His disciples should pick the least important seat at a dinner, blessed is the one who will eat at the banquet of the kingdom of God.

     We rightly hear the criticism that Jesus has for those who reject Him and His ministry among them.  Jesus’ signs fulfill the signs foretold by the prophets.  Those who are present, namely mostly Pharisees, should know the signs and who Jesus is.  Instead, of course, they will reject the signs, vote in the Sanhedrin to convict Jesus, and join in the shout of the crowd yelling “Crucify Him!  Crucify Him!”  Like those who came before them far too often, they ignore the instruction of God, or they take the Covenant God made with the ancestors for granted.

     There are any number of issues addressed by Jesus in this parable and the instruction of Peter before this.  But you and I are living in a time of great division and great anxiety and great confusion.  For some, the President’s actions and words are evident that he does not intend to follow the laws of the land.  To others, there is confusion because they voted for him to make America great again, whatever that seems to mean to them, and genuinely wonder why would anyone be opposed to that.  A few others just want people to get along and get back to being Americans rather than people defined by whatever litmus test our two parties are administering in any given moment.  And, to make things more challenging, some are rightfully worrying that a non-elected, unable to be given security clearance, being given access to private citizens data and our payment systems does not end well.  Sound familiar?  Those who attended Advent had similar worries, eventually including the reality that we went to war with each other over our divisions.  I have been asked several times over the last few weeks what we can do about anxiety about access or lack of supervision or about why some do not seem to want to make us great again orwhatever concern Adventers have.  My response, I know, seems a cop out.  Do what God is calling you to do.  But these problems are so big, so complex, and we are so small, how can me doing anything make much of a difference, let alone a significant difference?  God gave me a wonderful example of how one person’s work can make a huge difference in the future.  And it just so happens he was an Adventer.

     There was a battle fought in the fall of 1862 in Perryville, KY.  You students of the Civil War might know it well, but I was unfamiliar with the battle.  It turned out to be the high point of the Confederate midwest offensive back then.  Anyway, there was an artillery duel before the formal battle of Perryville.  Talk to John Womack if you want more description of an artillery duel, but suffice it to say these two units were shooting the Civil War equivalent of big guns at each other while the rest of the armies stayed covered and hoped the artillery guys were accurate with their guns.  The northern unit was commanded by a Colonel Parsons, and the southern unit was commanded by a Captain Carnes.  It was a long battle, but eventually the southern unit managed to destroy all the Federal guns and injure or kill the men manning the guns.  Colonel Parsons, certain of his defeat, strolled to the middle of the battleground, drew his sword, and stood at parade rest awaiting the killing blow.  The rest of the armies, including the Nashville 1^st Regiment, watched this scene unfold.  To Quintard’s surprise, Captain Carnes stopped his men from killing the opposing colonel.  Captain Carnes was certain that such a man of courage should not be destroyed casually.  I should note that Quintard and most others were far enough away not to have heard this conversation in real time.

     Now for the Paul Harvey bit and the rest of the story.  I am skipping years of history.  But Quintard, his consecration as second bishop of Tennessee having been cited by the New York Times as a sign of hope that our country might be reconciled like The Episcopal Church, was invited to preach in New York.  The now Bishop Quintard preached at Holy Trinity, Brooklyn on “Repentance and the Divine Life.”  The then professor at West Point, Colonel Parsons, heard the sermon and was moved to talk to Bishop Quintard.  Their friendship blossomed, and Quintard was invited to speak to the troops at West Point when he visited Colonel Parsons.

     After some time, Quintard realized that God had a call on Parsons’ life and invited the professor to join him in Memphis for tutelage in preparation for ordination.  Parsons eventually accepted and studied under Quintard, much as Quintard had studied at the feet of Bishop Otey.  Eventually, Parsons became the first ordinand that Quintard ordained as a deacon and priest.  We should probably remind Zach of the importance of his, God willing and the bishop consenting, impending ordination!  That’ll make him nervous!  Just to remind us all, Parsons was a Yankee on the Perryville battlefield, later ordained in TN for ministry in Christ’s Church.  After a brief time serving in the diocese, Parsons moved away to a cure outside the diocese.  Seemingly, the close nature of their relationship drawing to an end.

     A couple years later, however, Quintard had a parish in the Memphis area in need of a special kind of clergy.  After much prayer, Quintard discerned that he needed Parsons to serve as rector in that parish.  What was the special need and why was Parsons the priest?  Apparently, among those in the parish included a man named Jefferson Davis and some of his close colleagues.  They had been transplanted, some my say exiled, from Richmond to Memphis in the years after the War, but they were faithful Episcopalians.  Quintard discerned that a veteran was the perfect priest for that church and convinced the now Rev. Parsons of that fact.  Parsons returned to Memphis and served as rector until his death.  A former Union Colonel pastored the former political and some military leaders of the Confederacy.

     You should see your faces.  I know.  It is a cool story, but I should have had cameras pointed at y’all.  I was not finished.  More specifically, God was not finished.  When the Yellow Fever hit Memphis in the 1870’s, it should surprise none of us that Rev. Parsons stayed at his post.  In fact, he stayed at his post until his death by Yellow Fever in 1878.  When you and I have prayed for the Martyrs of Memphis over the years, with the whole Church, we have been praying for the former Colonel Parsons, even though we had no idea of his ties to Quintard.  A former Yankee, moved by God’s grace acting and speaking through Quintard, left West Point to become a pastor and died caring for God’s flock in Memphis during the plague, proving that Captain Carnes words were prophetic.  We did have need of such courage in the future.

     Quit!  I’m still not finished.  Remember Captain Carnes, the Southern commander of the artillery units engaged in that duel outside Perryville?  Luckily for him, God remembered him, too.  Guess who the very first confirmand of Quintard was?  How did y’all guess?  Lol. We are laughing because we see God’s hand all over this.  By me just asking the question, y’all knew right away who Quintard’s first confirmand was.  And the laughter and murmur is contagious.  I understand, but I want you to consider the circumstances a bit more.

     These two commanders fought on a battlefield in a horrible battle.  Our Colonel Womack can describe to you better the carnage wrought by artillery than I can or will during a sermon.  The defeated one marched to the center of the battlefield and stood ready to accept his fate and die.  The victorious commander halts the expected death blow.  Then, a few years later, a chaplain/surgeon who watched the battle is invited after being called to be a bishop to preach in NYC.  There, the two meet, just after the bishop has confirmed the victor in that artillery battle.  The defeated one is moved by the sermon and eventually discerns a call to ordained ministry.  Eventually, that bishop who convinced him to accept God’s call on his life discerns a special vocation for him.  He takes a cure that includes a number of former leaders from the side of the enemy to pastor in God’s name.  Eventually, he dies while tending to his flock during the Yellow Fever and is celebrated by the wider Church for his courage and willingness to die a martyr for God.  And our wider denomination struggles with the proper place of the person whom God used to further His Will in this place.  Talk about irony!

     Each of the three men in this story were involved in a War beyond their ken and influence.  None of the three had any hope of changing the course of history, let alone stopping the War.  All they could do was to do the work that God had given them to do in that place and at that time.  And for their obedience, look at the joy and encouragement we received!  Three men, in obedience to God, became part of that beautiful redemptive tapestry God is always weaving in our midst.  One chose to become a Christian because of the ministry of our former rector and bishop, causing heaven to rejoice.  But we rejoice on earth because we see the improbability of the rest of it and recognize God’s blessing in the midst of that terrible circumstance.  And if God can do that then, what can He now do through one or more of us today?!  How much joy might those who come after us discover in our own obedient faith?

     Which brings me back to Quintard.  Quintard is a challenging figure to modern sensibilities.  He was a known Yankee sympathizer to folks in Nashville in those days, but to those outside this city today, he is a man who loved those whom he was called to serve and the manner of life in the South so much that he was willing to fight for and die for his neighbor.  How can his attitude about slavery every be reconciled with the fact that he enlisted, and urged other men in his cure, to fight for the South?  But the truth is that his rule of life, to use a monastic understanding was simple and rooted in what you and I would call good Anglican worship.  See if you can spot it.

     Quintard wrote, spoken and taught and wrote that one is a sincere Christian if: (1) one endeavors to serve and obey God to the best of one’s understanding and power; (2) one strives to please one’s neighbor to edification; (3) one endeavors to do one’s duty in that state of life unto which it has pleased God to call him or her; and (4) whoever would continue in the practice of these things unto life’s end, it is necessary that one should call oneself often to an account whether he or she does so or not; constantly pray for the grace to know, and to do his or her duty; and to preserve oneself in such a teachable temper as to be always ready to receive the truth when it fairly proposed.  Love God with everything; love your neighbor as yourself; and worship and study God, repenting of those sins which draw us from His saving grace.  It is not rocket science.  Soldiers had different callings than officers who had different callings than leaders who had different callings than citizens who had different callings than . . . you get the idea.  Everyone, regardless of station, could endeavor to please God and trust in God’s grace that all evils would be redeemed, even the evil of slavery or the evil of war or the evils of countless sins he heard confessed as men lay dying.  But for his simple rule and simple teaching, we remember him and those who came before and trusted in the promises of which Quintard was a herald.  Adventers led the Church to abandon pew rents and figure out a different way to budget.  Adventers led the Church in the South by allowing and encouraging their slaves to worship God with them.  Why can’t God choose to use Adventers to glorify Himself in this world, in the midst of these problems and divisions we face?  You have tasted the smallest portion through the pantry work.  None of us expects to end hunger in the world, let alone Middle Tennessee; but those who volunteer can tell each one of us how important we are to those whom we serve.  To what work is God calling you?  To what seemingly impossible work is God placing upon your heart? 

     My friends, trust Him to lead you to what you need to be doing.  Like the slave in the Gospel story today, He is sending us forth to invite all those whom we meet in find in the world around us.  Such is His promised Banquet, that there is room for all.  Like Quintard and Parsons and all those who came before us, He is promising to use you in His effort to reach the world around us!  He is offering you the chance to be a part of that beautiful redemptive tapestry He is weaving over the course of history or, dare we say, His story.  Best of all, He is promising each of us in this season of Epiphany that if we will allow Him to be manifested in our lives, we will become the saints for which those who come after give thanks, not just for their lifetime, but for eternity!  Can you imagine what that Banquet will be like?  Can you imagine our joy and laughter and awe when we hear it told from the perspective of those who had courage to do away with pew rents, who had guts enough to bear the shame of being Yankee sympathizers, who dug deep to help build a bishopric for their beloved rector, who welcomed Constance and other nuns into their homes as they answered the clarion call of Quintard to come and help, who did whatever obedient thing God called them to do in their lives, just as He calls you today.  Heck, can you imagine that they will want to hear your story of His grace in your life, and rejoice, just as we do in theirs?  That is but a part of the invitation he extends to all humanity and with which He has entrusted you and me. 

 

In His Promise and His Power,

Brian+