I suppose
the preparation for this particular feast began almost exactly two years
ago. Our Wednesday Eucharist at noon
typically involves us hearing a bit about the life of the particular saint of
that day. Two years ago, I was preparing
for the week’s midweek Eucharist and reading about Richard Todd Quintard in
Holy Women Holy Men. In the middle
paragraph of his biography it says something like “Quintard was named the
second rector of Church of the Advent in Nashville.” This statement, of course, follows the
declaration at the beginning that he was the second bishop of Tennessee, First
Vice-Chancellor at Sewanee, and some of the other family and professional
background. It being early in the week
and preparation for a Wednesday service, let’s just say my attention was not
laser focused. I think I made it to the
Civil War paragraph before it dawned on me what the line had said. So I went back and read it, a couple of times.
Then I
started asking around. None of the
ladies or Larry knew anything about him during Monday morning Bible study. MC, to her credit, knew the name at the
Tuesday evening Bible study, but she is pretty well-versed in the history of
the diocese, at least compared to others.
Most faces were surprised like me to learn that Wednesday that our saint
that day was an Adventer! We even went
down the stairs over there to see if his picture really hung in our parish – it
does! He is a stern looking man in his
picture.
Naturally, I started reading more about this Adventer. I daresay I have read too much at this point
to be an effective preacher about his life, though I expect that some of his
life will be useful going forward in other sermon illustrations. But, for those of you visiting today, even
though it is the fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, we are celebrating the life
and history of Richard Todd Quintard today.
Everyone will get a history lesson and be reminded of the spiritual DNA
in this parish. And please, visitors, do
not worry, very few Adventers know anything about Rector/Bishop Quintard. That’s part of why we are remembering his
life today as a gathered community.
Now, if
my history lessons began two years ago, part of the genesis for this sermon
began a couple weeks ago. A priest from
another diocese reached out to criticize me for celebrating the life and
history of Quintard in our parish. As a
fighter against modern slavery, she thought it horrible that I would celebrate
the life and ministry of a man who had fought for the South, for slavery. Did I not realize my cognitive
dissonance? Lol.
I agreed
with her that, by modern morality, it was scandalous that he had fought for the
South. But the cognitive dissonance she
thought she had picked up on was nothing compared to the life of the complex
man that was Rector/Bishop Quintard. Did
she know that soldiers had to prevail upon their officers to allow Quintard to
serve as surgeon and chaplain for their Nashville Unit because he was perceived
as a Union sympathizer? (She did
not) Did she know that Quintard had led
the Vestry and parishioners of the Church of the Advent to allow their slaves
to attend worship with their owners prior to the onset of hostilities? (she did
not) Did she know that Quintard had
accepted the Vestry’s decision that only the slaves belonging to Adventers
could worship at Advent, that slaves of other Episcopalian masters were not
welcome to worship in the parish prior to the Civil War? (again, she did
not) Did she know that Quintard was,
disliked or distrusted—you pick your term, for his insistence that slave owners
were morally obligated to provide places of worship and religious instruction
for the slaves of their household? (she did not) Plantation owners did not appreciate
Quintard’s demands or criticisms when he found slave owners shirking their
responsibilities. Did she know that
Quintard provided medical and spiritual care to soldiers, regardless of the
uniform? Did she know that Quintard
accepted freed slaves’ claims that it was too hard to worship with their former
masters, and so he raised the money to build some of the most famous
historically black Episcopal churches in Georgia, Mississippi, and Alabama
after the War? Did she know he raised
the money to build the first seminary dedicated to the education of and
training of freed slaves for pastoral ministry over by what you and I call
Fisk? Like you, she knew none of
this. It did, of course, confirm her
assessment of my cognitive dissonance.
Why would you celebrate such a character in your church? He got so much wrong! But
look at what he got right!
What is a
saint? This is not rhetorical. When I ask you to define a saint, what’s your
answer? I know, it’s like
pornography. You know a saint when you
see one, or at least see their halo. But
what makes a saint. Holiness? Ok, now we are starting to get
somewhere. Righteousness? Sure.
Love? Absolutely. Fighter for justice? Good one.
Now that
you all are awake this rainy morning, let’s think a bit harder. How do we know holiness or righteousness or
love or justice? Great answer! Because God teaches us! Who said that? Would it be fair to think of a saint as
someone whose pattern of life points others to God? I’m glad you all agree because that was one
of the dictionary definitions. These
qualities you named, and no doubt some of you thought but refused to speak, are
known because of God’s revelation. Saints
are, to keep things a bit easier to understand, human beings whose lives
evidence God’s grace and an awareness of His mercy in their lives.
Think of
your favorite saint from the Bible. Who
is it? Wow. Lots of answers to that question. Good.
I heard a lot of names tossed out there.
Which one of those saints that you admire lived perfect lives? Jesus?
Good answer. Any others? This is a good time for you folks to have
remained silent. Part of the reason that
the stories in Scripture are told the way they are told is to teach us that the
saints are ordinary human beings like you and me. What makes them unique, what makes them
special is God. More specifically, it is
the fact that God chose them and graciously worked through them that makes them
special. There is nothing inherently
worthy in the saint that you admire that makes them worthy of being chosen by
God. They are not necessarily rich
enough or good looking enough or smart enough to deserve to be chosen by
God. It is the fact that He chooses to
work through them that makes them special.
Think all the way back to Abraham and Sarah. Are they faithful? Yes.
Are they perfect? Not by a long
shot. Their decisions to provide their
own heir still cause problems today in the Middle East.
How about
Jacob and his mother Rebekah? Again,
Jacob catches a lot of heat for being conniving, but he seems to have had a
mother that was a pretty good teacher.
David, a man after God’s own heart?
He sins a few times. How about
Peter? Paul? Martha?
I’m probably a bit unfair to Martha including her in this list. She’s chastised by our Lord because she
chooses the less important job of hosting folks when Jesus is there teaching
the disciples that number her sister, but he does not say her choice is wrong.
Though I
have simplified it and used easy to remember stories, all those in Scripture
have faith, but they sin. They are real
people living in real times. Some are
complex people living in complex times.
And though Scripture never glosses over their faults, it does point out
that God’s grace is sufficient to cover even faults and bend what they mean for
evil to His purposes. More importantly
for us, their stories serve as instructions and reminders that God can and does
work through men and women like us! Even
Adventers who forget the life and ministry of one of those who planted the
spiritual DNA at this parish we know and love and attend.
I learned
this week that our Gospel reading has been removed from the RCL. It’s odd because it used to be included in
our BCP lectionary, and we do a great job of reading from most of Luke over the
three year cycle. It’s also odd because
it speaks to God’s command that we are instructed to invite those to His feast
that the world would rather ignore.
Adventers, at their best, have lived out that spiritual reality. Most of us know we split from Christ Church
over the issue of pew rents. In the days
before our split from our mother church, you paid to rent a pew. Naturally, the better pews, those front and
center rather than way back there, fetched more than the pews in other parts of
the parish. But that’s how the church
paid to keep its doors open. Guess which
Vestry and which Rector were among the first American Christians to deal with
the consequences of doing away with pew rents, inviting all to worship God
regardless of one’s material standing, and still be tasked with the responsibilities
of paying staff and keeping the doors open?
Those of you who have served on Vestries at Advent or other places,
where money tends to dominate discussions anyway, can you imagine that
environment? Lots of rueful
laughter. You had no idea how easy you
had it when you served, did you? By the
way, if you are having a hard time imagining the discord and strife, check out
our archives. And, while I am at it,
that should serve as a cautionary tale for us all. Somebody may be reading our words 150 years
from now in those same archives, so keep your discord eloquent and polite so
that they might mistake us for holy folks.
It’s ok, you can laugh at that.
I’ve
already shared how we opened our doors to our own slaves but closed our doors
to those slaves who were owned by non-Adventers. In 2019 such a behavior is easily seen as
ignoring God’s command of drawing all to His saving embrace, but let’s not
forget how cutting edge it was in the mid 1850’s. It was a brave decision to allow their slaves
to worship at Advent. Folks left the parish
because of that decision, folks whose leaving made the budget worries a bit
more worrisome. Is it any wonder,
though, that those same Adventers became the early sources of funding when
Quintard sought to care for widows and orphans of the War? When Quintard sought to rebuild Sewanee? When Quintard sought money to build churches
for the newly freed slaves? When
Quintard sought money to establish the first seminary for freed slaves?
Perhaps,
some of you sitting in the pews have wondered a bit at why there are so many
healthcare professionals at so small a parish.
Perhaps some of you have wondered why folks like Dick Blackburn seek to
extend Medicaid to the poor, like those in Good Neighbors seek to minister to
the immigrants and refugees in our midst, why Nancy and Hilary chose the name
Body & Soul for their food pantry, why Larry and Betty and so many others
provide Room in the Inn for those in our community, like Janice and Jerry and
Ron and Ellen and so many others have been so involved at St. Luke’s, why
Adventers give so generously to the ministries invited by Oliver and his
committee? It’s in our spiritual
DNA. It’s who we are, even if we do not
know it! We are complex people living in
complex times! Who better than Adventers
seeking God’s will in their lives to navigate these choppy and murky waters? Who better, indeed?
Adventers
are unique in that we have a patronal season rather than a patronal saint. In churches that are named for a particular
saints, congregations will take on some of the aspects of that particular
saint. St. Luke’s often find themselves
in healthcare related areas of work and ministry. St. Thomases will sometimes find seeker and
other classes as a way to speak to doubt.
And so on. It’s no small
wonder. Patron saints are chosen with an
emphasis on prayerful discernment, on a new parish trying its very best to
figure out the work God has given them to do in a particular location. Our forebears, in another location and
another time, chose Advent. We are a
people called to remind the world that God’s Anointed, Jesus, has come into the
world and that He will one day return to judge the living and the dead. No exceptions. Is it any wonder that a group of Christians
worshiping with an eye looking back to the work and person of Christ and an eye
looking forward to His glorious return might find themselves so engaged in the
work described in our Gospel today?
Adventers
made it a point to create a space and welcome the poor in Nashville and, by so
doing, led the Church in the country to do the same. Adventers made it a point to welcome their
slaves—a group of people about whom the society around them debated whether
they even had a soul—in order that they might hear the word of God. I’ve no doubt that some wanted their slaves
to believe that this was the life God had planned for them and that they should
be content with their lot. But, if such
was an effective strategy, if bringing slaves to worship was a great way to tap
down moral outrage and cause slaves to accept their lot, why did more churches,
regardless of denomination, not try it?
It was within the walls of this parish that slaves were reminded of God’s
desire that all should be free, not just free from their chains of ownership,
but of the dark sin that seems so often to govern the world and all who live in
it.
Much is
made of the work that St. George’s is doing with Church of the Resurrection,
and rightfully so. But do you know the
first parish that reached out to its neighboring parishes when they lacked the
means for full time clergy? That’s
right, Advent. Adventers, in some cases
begrudgingly, allowed their rector to tend the flocks at St. Anne’s and at Holy
Trinity. Remember, we were physically
closer to them in those days. But as the
economics of the church changed and the prospect of war loomed, it was our
spiritual ancestors who made sure those not as adaptable or those with
insufficient whatever were fed by the word of God as preached from the mouth of
its rector, Richard Quintard.
I could
go on and on. It is likely in the months
and years ahead, I will share more stories of our beloved saint. And while I have no doubt that Quintard found
Adventers every bit as challenging to lead to Zion as I do, I also have no
doubt that he would be the first to remind each of us that he is remembered
only because of the faithful response of those given into his cure. Can you imagine the courage required to allow
slaves to worship with you at that time?
Can you imagine the courage required to blow up your economic system so
that “those poor people” could know they are loved and redeemed by God? Can you imagine the courage of sending your
sons and fathers and rector off to fight in the War?
You should
and you can. Look around at the ministries
happening here. Lisa has not totaled the
giving yet, but it is likely we gave away, on average, $1500 or so to each ministry
we invited in last year. Hillary and
Nancy and now Pam are feeding dozens of families on the margin each and every
month. Tina and Robert are striding into
different cultures, working to build bridges, and struggling to teach others
the English language. Jim and Robert are
encouraging people to ask questions. Do
we believe what we read and hear? Why
does the Church insist on some teachings and not others? The Good neighbors are, perhaps most of all,
those the most closely attuned to those in our world who feel most oppressed. Given the political discussions of
immigration and refugees and the less than kind discussion on social media, can
you not see the courage it takes for them to remind us that the immigrants and
refugees in our midst are human beings, human beings whom our Lord loves and
for whom He died—just like us! Can you
not see the courage it takes for Adventers to step out of their mostly
Brentwood homes and welcome in God’s name those who are homeless?
Complex
people for complex times. God has always
used faithful Adventers, complex human beings in all their glory and in all
their sin, to be heralds of His love and His mercy in the world around them.
In
reading a fair bit about Quintard and, in following his gigantic shoes, it is,
I think, that last bit which really elevated Quintard in the eyes and ears of
those who encountered him. Pieces about
him are being discovered in re-unearthed diaries and accounts. Historians comment about how he seems to have
been loved by nurses, in an age where male doctors tended to look down on
female nurses. Historians note how war
widows credited his recognition of their plight and his willingness to raise
money to support them or to rebuild schools or other necessities as
instrumental in their survival. Officer
accounts depict him as a man who realized that warfare caused all kinds of
collateral damage, both material and human, who was rather insistent when he
demanded of them more Godly behavior.
Though slave owners bristled at Quintard’s judgment, many responded to
his demands recognizing his voice carried the word of God in their ears.
Modern historians, who are rediscovering
Richard Todd Quintard and who are not unknown for their cynicism and judgment
of others in this day and age, are nearly unanimous in their recognition that
Quintard’s faith cannot be argued. In
their eyes, everything he did seems to have been motivated by his faith. To be sure, he only saw darkly; he made great
mistakes. But as account after account
after account of Quintard’s interactions with others are uncovered, one simple
fact stands out. His words of
consolation, his words of God’s redemptive promise and redemptive power, were
to those sorely afflicted and oppressed by the sins and condition of the world,
a true healing message from God’s herald.
Would that those in the world around us were to say the same of each one
of us! In His love and in His mercy,
there is no reason that it cannot!
In Christ’s Peace,
Brian†
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