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 1st 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+
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