Thursday, February 28, 2019

Of first importance: the Resurrection!


     If this works better, or rather, if this is what you needed to hear today, you have 8 o’clockers to thank for the improvement.  I knew I needed to discuss the Resurrection.  That was never seriously an internal debate, at least until Friday.  The problem was that I was boring myself.  Those who have been here a while and heard me preach know the danger of me preaching on a text with which I am too familiar.  In reality, that’s only Job, 1 Corinthians, and Mark.  I did a Masters on Job and have translated the latter two.  I can write a mean academic report.  But those put congregants to sleep.  My job is to excite you, cajole you, comfort you, and do anything but put you to sleep when it comes to God’s Word.  But imagine the familiarity with the text when one has declined every single noun and adjective, conjugated every single verb and verbal, dealt with all the idioms, and then chosen how to translate each word into English.  That’s my preparation on those three books.
     I have discovered over the years, though, that my work in Corinthians has given me a . . . let’s call it a deep understanding and appreciation . . . for the systematic theology spelled out by the Apostle Paul.  That appreciation and understanding, of course, has led me back, time and time again, to the systematic theology of the torah.  One cannot read one without the other.  If we read Paul without that zealous commitment to the torah, we miss much of what it is exactly fulfilled by the life and ministry of God’s Anointed, Jesus.  Similarly, if we fall victim to that nonsensical idea that Paul was not work and not writing as one empowered by the Holy Spirit, then we lose the perspective that what Paul was doing was truly God’s work.  In a nutshell, Paul was fulfilling God’s promise made to Abraham and Sarah however many years ago, that God’s people would be a light to the world, a nation of priests.  There is a myth in parts of the Church that Pauline theology is somehow unattached to or a misreading or a misappropriation of the message of Jesus of Nazareth.  There’s a myth that Paul took parts he like about Jesus’ teachings and buried parts he did not like in order to create a religious system in his own image.  Heck, I have seen “experts” declare that the Christian religion is more based on Paul than on the life and teaching of Jesus of Nazareth.  I see the nods.  You’ve heard and seen them, too.
     Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth could easily be a letter to the church in Brentwood.  Corinth, as many of you know, was a city of some means and privilege.  Oh, none of us would want to move back there.  The hotels were made Motel 6’s look good; the restaurants were not what we are used to; the plumbing needed more invention; there was no electricity; modern conveniences were simply lacking.  But, in that context at that time, it was a great place in which to live.  Those chartered to settle the city were made Roman citizens.  Those of you who have seen maps assume that everyone was a Roman in the Mediterranean Basin.  At its geographic height, there were only 120,000 or so citizens.  Corinth’s founders were granted citizenship by Caesar as a reward for their military service.  So they had that privilege going.
     In most places in the Roman world, there was a great disparity between the lower class and the ruling class.  Corinth, though, had a pretty good sized middle class.  All kinds of businesses thrived there because of the portage businesses.  Corinth made a living transporting cargo or entire ships from one side of town to the other.  The 3.3 mile portage saved as much as a full month at sea, and the risk to cargo.  But, that meant portage businesses needed to be established.  And restaurants.  And hotels.  And . . . all kinds of service industries.  Tailors had a thriving business.  Home builders did just fine.  Shipbuilders had an opportunity to do repair work.  You get the idea.  Corinth was a bustling community.
     By virtue of its businesses and wealth, it was also a place where a number of religions found a purchase.  All the Roman gods were, of course, honored there.  Other Mediterranean gods also found a home in Corinth.  Given his travels around the basin, it is not that surprising that Paul found himself there and aware of the problems facing the fledgling church.  An easy but disgusting example was the apparent willingness of affluent Romans to gather and eat feasts in front of those who could not afford food.  Another was the tolerance of a man sleeping with his step mom.  Another was the Corinthians penchant for ranking the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and so on.  Paul had much to say about all these issues facing the Corinthian Christians, much as he has to say to us Brentwood/Southern Nashville Christians on those same issues.
     If you read the letter, Paul spends a great deal of time addressing these pastoral issues and detailing the proper attitudes and behaviors that should be found in disciples of Christ.  What makes Paul’s teaching so interesting is that he can appeal to the various factions within the church at Corinth and show why allegiance to Christ trumps all else.  You think it great you are a Roman citizen?  This is not our inheritance.  We are just passing through like Abraham.  You have wealth and so think yourself blessed by God?  If you let brothers and sisters starve before you or go homeless before you, you have received your reward.  Paul does a masterful job, we might say Spirit-empowered job, addressing the behaviors and underlying attitudes and the expectant result of those who claim Christ as Lord, and he does so as an equal.  The things they value, he has cast aside because of the Resurrection of his Lord Jesus.
     It is that Resurrection, of course, upon which everything in his letter turns.  It is the Resurrection also that causes much of the scandal in the world around us when they hear the Gospel.  I am often amazed at the number of clergy in churches that reject the Resurrection because science has taught them better.  There are tons of better paying jobs with much better hours and far less emotional and spiritual weight than being a clergy.  How someone does it without the hope of the Resurrection is way beyond my grey matter.  But there are far more people who claim to be Christian sitting in pews, or likely at home, who share in that disbelief.  We think we know what we know, and we disregard whatever does not fit in our epistemological boxes.  Of all the testimony about Jesus, the Resurrection is the most outside those boxes.
     Those of you in church in January probably remember the appointment of Dean John to replace Archbishop Bernard as ambassador for Justin and Francis.  Dean John famously preached to his congregation in Perth that they needed to move beyond the literal belief that Jesus of Nazareth was raised from the dead, that God could not contravene the laws of science He put in place.  Those working toward closer relationships between the Anglicans and Romans were utterly shocked that such a man could be tapped to serve as the bridge between the two.  Sadly, his view, whatever it is in light of his subsequent retraction/clarification, is not that unusual in the Church.
     The world is nervous about such things as well, though it does not necessarily recognize its nervousness.  Most of you know I am a nerd and, thanks be to God, I have some nerd children.  We watch and read a lot of science fiction fantasy in our house.  How does science fiction fantasy feel about Resurrection?  In truth, it’s a struggle toward which many strive but a possibility that many fear.  Take for example ST:TNG.  In a famous episode, a scientist, who married a former love of Captain Picard, succeeds in overlaying his cognitive functions on Data’s positronic brain.  In short, he takes over the body of Data.  How does that go?  Though the writers do not explore the fear as much as I would like now, the scientist is truly disembodied.  He loses his sense of humanity and humility.  He thinks he knows, better than all those around him, what they are feeling, wanting, desiring.  In the end, of course, he becomes a monster possessed of great strength and super human intelligence.
     How about the movie that starred Johnny Depp as a great scientist?  That story is more of a love story, but similar to the one from Star Trek.  Depp’s character succeeds in uploading his consciousness into a mainframe built for that purpose.  He recognizes that, for all his accomplishment, he is limited by input and ability to act.  He fashions . . . what, androids, to accomplish his tasks.  Sensors go up everywhere to provide him with information.  Again, the disembodied scientist ends up at enmity with all those on his team and, most especially, his girlfriend. 
     I share these episodes not because I think they are great Emmy or Oscar worthy narratives, but because they capture two fundamental truths about the human condition first revealed by God.  (1) We are embodied creatures.  Period.  You and I were created to inhabit a body.  Bodies are somehow essential to what it means to be human, at least in God’s eyes.  This should not surprise you at all.  When God created each thing, what did He say about it?  That’s right!  It is good.  At the end of each day, when God finishes His assigned task, He pronounces it good.  Unlike all the other ANE religions, and even most of those from elsewhere in the world, God says matter is good.  For all the other cultures, matter was, at best tolerated, and, at worst, considered “yucky.”
     You and I are descended mostly from Greco-Roman stock.  How did our cultural ancestors view matter?  It was yucky.  It was distasteful.  To this day we think spirit is somehow better than matter.  It’s invaded all parts of our thinking, even our thoughts on the afterlife.  How many of you think or thought that, upon your death, part of you will float up to be with God?  How many of you assume you will drift to an empty cloud to play a harp?  You are laughing, but we all know we have heard it, right?  We all know that story.  The body is bad; the spirit is good.  Heck, why do you think people in the Ancient Near East found the idea of the Incarnation so scandalous?  God becoming human?  Why would a god want to become human?  Sure, they could take on a form to impregnate a beautiful girl or to dally with a handsome man, but become human?  No god in his or her right mind would ever do something that disgusting.  They were incorruptible and our bodies were the definition of corruption.  We get old and die.  We get sick.  We experience pain.  Who wants that?  Certainly not a god.
     If we are embodied creatures, if we truly are meant to have bodies, what do you think eternal life will look like?  That’s right, (2) there will be bodies.  Jesus clearly had a body upon His Resurrection.  The passages where Jesus eats with and drinks with His disciples is to demonstrate He is not a ghost.  There is something real and tangible about Him.  To be sure, He can travel hundreds of miles in a blink of an eye and pass through locked doors, but there is a body doing those things.  There is a body in which Thomas declines to stick his fingers.  There is a body to which Mary tries to cling that Easter morning.  There are bodies which are not given in marriage in the age to come.  Over and over and over, Jesus and His disciples remind us that our bodies are truly part of us.  They belong to us.
     It is at this point that folks start wondering what the body will be like.  I tell them “Better than we can ask or imagine.”  I joke somewhat about my experience.  When I met Karen, I had a good body – she was not cooking for me then!  But I was lifting lots and exercising.  I had arms.  I also had an orange streak of hair because I was downwind of some chemicals before we met.  So, when I tell people what body I want, I want that body with normal colored hair.  And, if Karen overhears that, she adds “with real hair, not that buzz cut.”  She’s nodding.  What can I say, it was easy to care for!
     Even Paul understands the Resurrection will involve a body.  Paul’s understanding is, to me, fascinating.  Paul was the chief prosecutor and persecutor of those who first followed the Way.  His zeal for the law was famous, and the Temple authorities gave him carte blanche to root out this teaching and preaching that Jesus was the Anointed of God.  Paul truly believed he was doing God’s work.  Paul truly believed he was doing what God had commanded all the people of Israel.
     All that changed, of course, on the road to Damascus.  Critics here will want to say But, Brian, he really only heard the voice and was blinded by the glory of God.  He did not really see the body.  Horsecrap!  What do you think blinded him?  Paul knew, once Jesus identified Himself, to whom it was he was speaking.  And it was that knowledge that changed everything for Paul!
     One of the reasons we go to seminary for three years is that Paul spent three years in the desert reordering what he thought he understood about God.  How could God become human?  How could God suffer and die?  How could God raise the dead to life?  And about a billion other questions.  Paul had to reconcile what he had learned studying under Gamaliel with the reality that Jesus of Nazareth stood before him AFTER dying on the Cross.  Words cannot explain the mind-blowing experience.  Paul was forced to examine everything taught by Moses, the prophets, the psalmist, and the wisdom literature authors in light of the Incarnation, death, and Resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.  This was the game changer, to way way way way way oversimplify our understanding, of salvation history!
     No wonder it is so hard for some among us to accept it.  Heck, it was hard for the folks in the ANE and even in Corinth to accept the truth of the claim.  How does one explain the Resurrection in terms that people can understand, absent that encounter experience by Paul or Peter or Thomas or Mary?  Paul turns to agriculture.  The seeds we plant are nothing like the plants that spring forth from them.  Does the wheat grain look like the plant?  A kernel of corn like the plant?  A mustard seed like the plant it produces?  Of course not.  We readily accept that those seeds produce those plants, but heaven forbid we think faith in Christ will give us a new body, right?  That’s part of Paul’s argument.  The people in Corinth have an agricultural example that explains, in part, what will happen to them.
     At some point they, like us, will die.  Their bodies will be buried . . . like a seed.  At some point in the future, when God gives the growth, a new, imperishable, glorious body will replace the dishonored and sinful body we now inhabit.
     Paul tries to explain it to them and us using image of God language, too.  Adam and Eve were created in the image of God, that’s a fundamental truth revealed at the beginning of Scripture.  Each of us bears the image of the generations who came before.  We are like bad copies or bad copies of bad copies (with a lot of copies in between), of our ancestors Adam and Eve—these bodies are corruptible.  Now, however, we are heirs of the Man of heaven.  By virtue of our baptism, we have died to self and are promised a share in all Christ’s inheritance.  He is the Son of God, the firstborn to use Paul’s language, but we are all heirs.  In everything.  Period.  That includes a Resurrected, imperishable, glorious body!  It is that promise that gives us great hope, to use Paul’s language and teaching from earlier in the letter.  It is that realized body that will allow us to remove the veil and see each other and God as He created each of us.
     Paul lived in a world that understood the human condition.  Sometime, depending on those with whom I speak, I think those in Paul’s world understood the human condition far better than we.  But I know, I know in my deepest parts, that people are people.  There were wise folks and foolish folks and all kinds of in between folks, just like there are today.  Paul’s teaching speaks to all them, regardless of the age in which they live and the location.  I handed on to you as of first importance what I had, in turn received: that Christ died for our sins, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures.  If we deny the Resurrection, brothers and sisters, we are denying our faith and dishonoring God.  So important is that understanding that Paul spends nearly two full chapters discussing its implications.  For Paul, and us, the Resurrection is the capstone event of salvation history.  It is the one thread upon which all the other threads in the tapestry are based.  Pull it, and the tapestry falls apart.  But if it is true.  If what Mary and Peter and Thomas and Paul and all the experienced was true, what a tapestry!  What a hope!  And the truth of that event, of course, is enshrined in our liturgy.  Each and every time we gather, we remember His death, we proclaim His Resurrection, and we await His coming in glory.  Those words of first importance, those words of proclaimed mystery serve as the basis for the Thanksgiving we celebrate each and every time we gather as His people.
     Like us, the ANE had lots of examples of suffering.  Prometheus was famously tortured for giving humanity the gift of fire.  Sisyphus was famously condemned to a futile task.  Over and over again, ANE theologies discussed suffering and its meaning.  Over and over again, ANE theologies, in particular, came to understand that our reaching for the gods was threatening to them.  There were even stories of gods dying and rising again, but they died gods and were raised as gods, emulating the seasons of the earth.  Only one story, however, told the story of God reaching down to humanity.  Only one story told the story of God wanting His people to dwell with Him.  Only one story told the story of God tabernacling with His people.  Only one story told the story of God redeeming His people.  And that story, my brothers and sisters, is our story.  There is a reason that the story was shared and shared and shared, despite persecution and the possibility of death, until an emperor, nearly 300 years later, heard it and converted.  There is a reason that story continues to be shared today, comforting and scandalizing folks as it did nearly two thousand years ago.
     What makes the story the Gospel, what makes it truly THE GOOD NEWS, is the Resurrection.  If God has power to redeem that over which you and I have no power, namely death, what else can He not accomplish for us?  So important is the Resurrection that Paul claims it is the hope from which all our hopes hang, and it is that hope that is of first importance of our faith.  8 o‘clockers teased me gently this morning that I was a bit adamant about the truth of the bodily Resurrection.  One attendee wondered if my experience of seeing God raise a dying man as a result of my prayers gave me different perspective.  Perhaps.  But he was raised to die again.  Neither he nor his wife nor I nor the doctors nor the nurses thought he was in an imperishable body.  What I experienced was more like the experience of the widow at Nain or at the tomb of Lazarus or at the raising of the widow’s son for Elijah.  What God promises is exponentially beyond those experiences!  He confirms His power to keep that promise in the Resurrection of our Lord Christ, and He extends that promise to all of us who claim Him as Lord.
     I know I have bordered and maybe crossed over the edge of a rant a bit this morning.  If you believed the Resurrection and had no issues before today, then I apologize for your wasted time.  But for those of us who wrestle with faith and wrestle with God, what are your thoughts on the Resurrection?  Do you find it too fanciful and simply too good to believe?  Do you discount its importance and, so, undermine your own testimony about God’s redeeming power to others?  Or, like Paul, and all who profess the faith of the Apostles and disciples, do you believe the testimonies?  Do you believe that He was raised from the dead?  Then, as He promised Thomas and others so long ago, you are already among the blessed.  Jesus recognized the difficulty and declared that those who have not seen and yet believe as blessed by God.  How are we blessed, even though we still live in this world in these bodies?  Thanks to the Resurrection, we know Jesus’ teachings and promises are trustworthy.  Thanks to the Resurrection, we know that the sacrificial life He calls us to live can be redeemed, even if that sacrifice asked of us is our very lives.  And, for those who love justice, thanks to the Resurrection we know that God, who is justice and love and whatever great adjective we use in our descriptions, that He can vindicate us even as He condemns those who reject Him.  So, my brothers and sisters, what say you about the Resurrection?  Do you believe? 

In Christ’s Peace,
Brian†

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

A Complex man in a complex time--Just like us!


     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†