Wednesday, November 24, 2021

Christ will reign . . .

         I noticed a few worried faces this morning.  Uh, oh, we’re in white.  What’s going on?  In case you have forgotten or, more likely, time has gotten away from you because of coronatide, today is a special day in the Church.  In the old days, it was known simply as the Last Sunday after Pentecost.  It marked the end of the regular green season.  In truth, though, it is our newest feast.  In the days before the pandemic, a few fans of the 1928 Prayer Book remarked that the feast day seemed new.  So, I did some reading.  It turns out they were correct.

     By way of information, the observance of the new feast occurred in the 1920’s.  The Pope was greatly and rightly concerned that people were suffering under secular rule.  Just to remind us of our history and geography, the Pope declared the feast day after an Italian ruler by the name of Mussolini suspended a number of what we call today civil rights.  There has, from time to time, been some conflicts between the Italian leadership and the Vatican.  Part of the friction is that the Vatican is super wealthy and located within the city of Rome.  Part of the friction is due to the fact that the Vatican has tried to operate as it sees fit, paying no taxes to italy.  It’s that old story that reminds us that money equals power!

     In any event, the world was chaotic.  The last pandemic, the Spanish Flu, was not even a decade in the rear view mirror.  The war to end all wars was yet to be fought, though WWI had been tried.  America was on the doorstep of the Great Depression and The Dust Bowl.  In Europe, France and Britain had ceded the Rhineland back to Germany.  Hitler had only been in charge of the Nazi Party in Germany for a couple years.  Asia and Africa?  The world did not pay much attention to the events on those continents.  But, suffice it to say, the time was filled with social, political, economic, and religious divisions.  Add a few natural disasters, a plague, and a couple other anxieties, and you can see why the Pope decided that the world needed to be reminded that Jesus truly reigned.

     Of course, in the United States, we preferred the designation “The Reign of Christ” over Christ the King. Sunday.  It turns out that people who fought a revolution to free themselves from a monarchy are not fond of reminding themselves that the end of times will see the re-establishment of a kingdom and King, even if it is Lord Jesus.  

     For us, liturgically speaking, it is a great end of the Church year celebration.  Next week marks the beginning of Advent.  Other churches have patronal feasts.  We have a patronal season.  Our calling, insofar as our name suggests, is that we are to be a congregation that reminds the world that God’s Anointed has come and that, one glorious Day in the future, He will return to judge everyone.  Our focus looking backwards and forwards reminds us that we both testify to the fact that Jesus was and is who He said He was, that He was vindicated by God on the wonderful Easter morning, and that He will return to finish all that He has started.  Christ the King Sunday prepares us to focus upon our roles as Adventers in the world around us.  It’s just a shame the world is in so much better shape than it was when the Pope instituted the feast.

     At least everyone laughed ruefully, recognizing the sarcasm in my voice.  In many respects, not much has changed these last 95 years.  I suppose one big difference is that our politicians work for us rather than for themselves.  Hmm.  That laughter makes me think you disagree.  Well, at least we live in a country where we throw those who do not serve us out simply by casting a vote.  I see the nods but remind us that we seldom think our own Senators or Representatives are the problem.  Time and time again, Congress gets a horribly dissatisfied rating as a group, but those elected from our district or state are dissatisfied only by members of the other party.  Thus, we keep electing the same people and wonder why things do not improve.

     The pandemic, of course, has brought a number of our idols and assumptions into the light, in addition to radically changing the way we go about life, to say nothing of the suffering and death it has caused.  Last week, we reminded ourselves of those whom we had lost and not been able to mourn and celebrate properly.  We read the litany and reminded ourselves of that loss and our loss of those who have gone to their reward.

     Our inability to gather in the parish hall and share stories is but one way how things have changed around us.  Now we have the big television, so that events can be hybrid at the parish.  We want people to participate as much as possible, but we do not want them taking unnecessary risks.  Similarly, the drone of the hepa filters reminds us that gatherings are dangerous to some and risk spreading the plague to all.  Suffice it to say, we are just not yet ourselves, no matter how much we wish we were.

     Not that the wider world is in any better shape.  Economists are confused.  We are in the midst of the great resignation, and yet jobless claims remain near historic lows.  The myth is that the extra unemployment safety net caused “lazy” people to stay home and not work.  Some states cancelled those benefits during the summer, and the benefit expired in September.  So where are all the workers?  It’s almost as if people re-evaluated their priorities during a life and death pandemic and decided their jobs were not worth the risk.  Now, people are having to wait longer to get gods and services.  And let’s just say “loving their neighbor as themselves” is not at the top of their efforts right now.

     Justice seems to be in rather short supply, too.  The case in MN was decided this week with a jury finding the defendant not guilty, effectively believing his claim of self-defense.  Some among us understand the double-nature of justice.  If the defendant was black, do we think he would have gotten off?  Were the defendant poor, do we think he would have been found not-guilty?  It is easy to see why people perceive the scales of justice tipping a bit in one direction.  All of us, I expect, would like to take a shower after the case.  All of it began when the defendant crossed state lines to involve himself in social unrest.  He did not live there.  It does not seem right to others that he inserted himself into a volatile situation and was able to take two lives.

     And lest we forget, another case is playing out in Georgia.  A young black man was shot for running through the neighborhood.  One of the shooters testified under oath that the man was only running, clearly had no weapon, and did not verbally assault the three of them.  He seemed intent on avoiding their pickup trucks and shotguns.  Despite that testimony, is anyone here certain the three will be convicted when the case heads to the jury?  Even the judge has complained about the racist behavior and actions of the defense attorneys.  But, under Georgia law, there was nothing to be done.  So, people of color are excluded from the jury and the lawyers get to complain about black pastors intimidating members of the jury and the long toenails of the deceased.

     Lest we forget, we all know, and you are likely sick of me mentioning it, but we started a food pantry when food insecurity only impacted 1 in 5 Tennesseans.  How much higher did that get during the pandemic?  We provided space for those who are struggling with addiction.  How challenging was that?!  How tough has the pandemic been on mental health, but we had to make sure events and meetings here did not put people at unnecessary risk.  And you all have no idea the tug of war behind the scenes.  We demonstrated ourselves capable of distributing money to the needy and documenting that giving appropriately, and yet our local government is challenged getting new funds to those in need and specifically do not wish to work with churches.

     In the midst of those “big things,” many of us are dealing with all kinds of more personal issues.  Without getting too specific, we have Adventers who are suffering from other diseases. Some of the outlooks are downright scary, and some of the good outlooks involve some difficult treatments in the near future.  Some Adventers are dealing with broken relationships.  I know we are on the brink of the holiday season and that many of us hope for a Norman Rockwell experience, but have you met our families?  We laugh, but only because we know the truth.  None of our families look like those pictures.  We all have long simmering feuds, rolls to play, and the pressure of meeting the expectations of those who know us best.  Under stress.

     So, yes, it is good that the Pope, in his wisdom, introduced another feast day for the Church and at this time of the year.  Aside from ending the Church year with a last proclamation and look towards the eschaton before we start Advent, we get to remind ourselves that, despite all this stuff, said and unsaid, Jesus has authority and will reign.  Better still, He has promised to redeem all our sufferings and to vindicate us for our faith in Him despite the testimony of the world around us!  Our focus on the end of this year has been on the crazy ability of God to redeem and incorporate.  Naomi is literally redeemed, and Ruth became the grandma of David and an ancestor of Jesus, despite her station as a Moabite widow.  Job experiences all kinds of evil at the hand of Satan; yet God restores even Job’s honor and gives Job a vision of the things he did not know or understand.

     Our reading from 2 Samuel is from David’s obituary.  Some of the outside world might believe David was a great king.  God certainly loved him and credited David for having faith in Him.  A man after God’s own heart is how our Lord describes the great king.  Yet, those of us who read Scripture and pay attention to the stories about David understand he not a righteous superhero.  To be sure, David kills Goliath and a large number of Philistines.  David even patiently waits on God to fulfill His promise to make David king over God’s people.  But, and this is an enormous all caps but, David does a few things that make us cringe.  Were we reading the entirety of the story of David, we would be reminded of his dalliance with a woman who catches his eye.  In times of yore, this was just good old fashioned adultery, but now we cringe even more because we wonder whether Bathsheba really wanted to betray her husband.  How does a woman in that society say no to a king?  That affair results in an unintended pregnancy.  David tries to hide it by bringing Bathsheba’s husband home from the front, but ends up using the war to kill Uriah the Hittite.  Were we to pay more attention to David, the man after God’s own heart, we would see he is not the great shepherd of God’s people that he is called to be all the time.  Kings in the ANE did censuses to set taxes and decide whether there were enough fighting men to go to war.  Israel’s kings, however, were supposed to consult God before going off to war.  That meant they were supposed to speak with the prophet.  The prophet would advise the king whether God would give Israel victory over their enemies.  David, of course, does a census for the purpose of determining whether he has a big enough army.  When God offers David the choice of his family facing the consequences of the sin or letting the consequences fall on the people of Israel, David makes another bad choice.  Now, what makes David a successful king in God’s eyes is his willingness to repent when confronted with his sin.  Unlike his predecessor Saul, David repents when he confronted by his sin.  David is not sinless, not by any means, but he is righteous because he admits his sins and turns to God every time.

     What we long for, of course, is someone who does not sin, someone who does not make the mistake of letting his passions get in the way of doing what God commands.  And in that longing, David is just like us.  His obituary makes it clear that David’s rise and successes are all attributable to God.  God exalts David.  David does not win the throne by cunning or strength of arms.  God anoints and elevates and swears the everlasting covenant.  God causes David to prosper.

     David uses agrarian imagery to speak of one who rules justly in God’s stead.  Now, we know David makes mistakes.  David was a better king than most of his offspring.  But, even he looks to the day when God’s Anointed reigns.  Such a ruler gives his people the peace of a meadow with dew and no clouds in the sky.  We call it the peace that passes all understanding.  You may know the peace on a beach, with the sound of crashing waves and sand under your feet.  Call it whatever we want, we know what such a ruler would mean for us.  How much would our tensions and stressors be lowered if our elected leaders sought God’s justice?  Heck, how much more palatable would our fights be if our leaders repented when wrong, rather than acting and sounding like Saul?  You and I are blessed to see God’s promise to David fulfilled.  That greater Son has come.  The king in the line and family of David has been anointed.  We know this because He was raised from the dead and Ascended to the Father.  But one Day, He will return to rule forever.  It is that scene that we hear and read John describing in our reading from Revelation.  His first entrance into what was His own was unnoticed by most.  His next entrance will be rather the reverse.  All will see Him.  His appearing will be unmissable, and the tribes of the world will wail because all will learn that the Gospel really was true, and that they have chosen poorly.

     But, for now, the privilege and responsibility has been given to us, to all who proclaim Him Lord, to herald both comings.  He came not to judge the world during His first appearing, but to save it, as our comfortable words remind us.  Now is the time that we are given the job of spreading the Good News of God in Christ.  We are the proclaimers of His death, His Resurrection, His Ascension and His coming in glory.  We feed the hungry in His name; we carve out space for mental health in His name; we paid rents, mortgages, and utilities in His name; we show patience to those waiting on us in stores in His name; we are, in the words of John, a kingdom not of this world, but of His.  The only proclamation that we make during the Eucharist that He has not fulfilled is that promised return.  And so we gather this day to remind ourselves that one day He will, in fact, rule, that we will experience the peace described by David, we will see the glory described by John, we will experience the rule of one who testifies to the truth.

     we live in that time between, that tension between the already and the not yet, as Carola liked to remind each one of you.  We live in a world that rejects His authority, His revealed truth.  Most of our leaders serve themselves, not us; many of our neighbors love idols rather than the One who created them in His image; we fight hunger in His name, hoping people will hunger and thirst for He who feeds us and gives us living water; we do unending work and spend money on problems that seem never ending, trusting that He who created the heavens and earth has whatever resources we need to testify to His abundance in our lives; heck, we even gather during the midst of a pandemic believing that our worship of Him is essential, both for us and for those who do not yet know Him.  We remind ourselves, on this day, when we remember the trials of our lives and the rejection of the world, that the King we serve triumphs even over the mockery, rejection, and death visited upon Him by Pilate, even as He will one done redeem the mockery, rejection, and evil we have experienced ministering in His name and to His glory!


In His peace,

Brian+

Tuesday, November 16, 2021

A Litany of Mourning . . .

     If you are visiting today, I apologize in advance.  You have stumbled into worship with us as we are intentionally remembering those whom we lost since the start of the pandemic.  I think only one on our list has COVID listed as her cause of death, but all died during the pandemic.  The Vestry and Liturgy & Worship Committee and I struggled with how to bring some liturgical and social closure to the congregation.  Since all of us gathered are Episcopalians, we know how important funerals are to us, and we know we do them well.  Just ask Hollywood and television, right?  They love our funeral and wedding liturgies.  In any event, beginning with Charles’ death, back in the days when the civil and ecclesiastical authorities had everything completely shut down, we have not had proper funerals.  In fact, we are so not ourselves that some parishioners have only learned about one or two of these deaths in the last month.

     In the course of our discussions, we decided to have a memorial service of sorts around All Souls’ Day.  Just to remind ourselves, All Souls’ is the feast day on which we remember all the “regular people” who have died.  Some parishes have a necrology; some use a Litany like the one we are using.  Some, of course, conflate All Saints and All Souls and just have one big celebration.  Our intent last spring was to have a memorial service and then a big party in the parish hall.  For a couple of our deceased, they were rather intent that we needed to party when they died.  They wanted us to remember them and their death as a celebratory event, but NOT because they were gone!

     We picked a date in November because it was the month of All Souls’ Day.  We also picked it because we have a lot of unique celebrations this month—All Saints’, All Souls’, Christ the King, Advent begins, the bishop comes, and, oh yeah, Thanksgiving.  We figured everything would be so jumbled up that people would adapt to the services and really enjoy the social event.

     Then, Delta hit.  Just as it seemed the Wilderness Road was leading us back to normal, we hit another of those switchback turns.  And we started heading away from normal.  Now, I think the turn is gradually heading back to the “New Normal,” as Adventers are getting third shots and children are getting their firsts, but, even were things to open up completely in a month or two, we would not be ourselves.  We have lost members during the pandemic, faithful members.  Their absence will be felt for some time, and not just by their immediate family.  So, I determined to go ahead and use the litany today and hold that parish hall celebration off until we can gather and regale one another and their loved ones with stories.  Truth be told, it would be an interesting witness to the world outside our doors.  Like St. Paul reminds us today, we are not people without hope.  We know our loved ones live in the Lord and that, one glorious day, we will join them with Him for that Great Wedding Feast that He has planned since the foundation of the world.

     Our litany today serves as a sort of catechesis for us.  As you all know, I love preaching and teaching on the Scriptures, but today seemed the perfect time for us to focus on the Litany, as the Litany points us all back to the Sacraments, which, as we all know and can answer the bishop in two weeks, are the outward signs of the inward and spiritual grace that we have.

     The Litany begins with an invocation of the Trinity.  Each of us gathered here understands that the Trinity is truly a Holy mystery.  How can God be three persons in one unity?  What does that even mean?  Why is it even important?  Those of you who have suffered through one of my sermons on the Holy Dance of the Trinity, the perichoresis, know that one of the earlier images of the Trinity was like that of a great waltz.  Sometimes we see evidence of the Father better, sometimes the Son, sometimes the Holy Spirit.  They are different, but they are in absolutely unity of being and purpose.  Chief among those purposes, if we listen to John Chrysostom, is to carve out a space for us in that Holy Dance, that you and I, when we are completely redeemed, will be of one mind and one purpose with the Trinity.  Of course, try as we might, it is hard to explain to outsiders.  We and those to whom we try and explain get flustered.  How can there be three and one?  At some point, logic seems to break down and we accept it on faith.  The Father has glorified His Beloved Son and, as the Son promised, has sent the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, to us as down payment or pledge on our future inheritance.  We know this even if we do not understand it.  And we know its importance because we remember and proclaim that truth every time we gather for worship and say the Nicene Creed.

     For what are we asking?  On this day we are simply asking God to have mercy on Charles, on Frances, on Ron, on Miwako, on John, for Ruby, and for Mary, on their loved ones, and on us.  Much like our Burial service, we recognize that they are no longer among us, even if we have not been much around us since the start of this pandemic.  We recognize that they have loved ones, some loved ones who did not get the liturgical closure or the pastoral care upon which we pride ourselves as Episcopalians.  How many of us love to make a casserole for a family?  That hasn’t happened in nearly two years.  How many of us like to have a favorite drink and share a story or three?  That’s been hit or miss.  How many of us like taking survivors out for a meal?  We couldn’t do that until the vaccines became available, and we have to make sure our restaurants of choice are staffed.  These other rituals upon which we depend are, at best altered, and at worst unable to be observed.  Heck, in the case of Charles, everything was shut down when he died.  I remembered how nice it was when Frances died because, by then, at least we could allow ten family members to come to the graveside.  Can you imagine what your 2019 self would say to you if you told him or her that there would be a time when cemeteries would not let anyone be present for some weeks and then think themselves living on the edge for allowing ten people?  But that is the experience we and their loved ones have all come through.

     Each of their big stories, of course, has their own little sub-chapters which made their experience unique to them.  The day before everything shut down, Bill placed Frances in a memory care unit.  Bill lovingly placed Frances in a place to care for her needs expertly, and then he was told he could not even visit the next day.  Miwako was up and moved from California to Nashville, suffering from her own memory issues.  Can you imagine her confusion?  Poor John was trapped for months.  Now, we all know how John loved to hold court, and I am certain he was able to hold court with all those in the same facility, but he loved getting out.  Mary and Charles, I hope, bookend this horrible experience for me.  It was horrible not being able to do anything for Mary.  And by the time we could do anything, she had been moved to SC.  Ron was what we professional Christians call a spiritual patriarch of the parish.  Ron knew everyone and knew everything about Advent.  He seldom gave advice unasked, except maybe within his family, but he gave great advice when asked, usually because he always wanted what was best for this parish and for those who attended faithfully.  And Ruby.  Most of y’all will not recognize her name, but you would recognize her fashion sense were she to show up at the barbecue or TGIF.  Ruby and her husband were in orbit of the parish thanks to the work of Jane.  Early in my tenure here, I buried her husband.  Naturally, when Ruby died, the family asked if I would bury her . . . during a pandemic.  I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we had gotten Ruby and Frances in a room together.  We would have probably bankrupted their husbands because they would have seen each other’s cute shoes and purses and needed them!

     We rightfully laugh at some of these stories.  Those of us who knew them better lived the stories, and so many more.  And, now that time has passed and the Holy Spirit has comforted us, we can share stories and laugh, even as we still acknowledge that we miss them.  But we are not without hope of seeing them again.

     Our litany continues with prayers for those in the world.  It is appropriate that, even as we remember those whom we have lost, that we pray for others who have died during this pandemic, and their loved ones.  We know that God knows them and loves them just as He loves us and our loved ones, and so we lift them up in prayer trusting in His Fatherly care.

     We continue by praying for those who have been impacted by the pandemic, which is everyone in the world.  We remind ourselves and those who maybe stumble on to this litany that God cares for every single human being in the world, just as he cares for us and for those whom we lost.  He cares for those struggling to pay bills.  He cares for those who are lonely.  He cares for those who cannot care for themselves.  Most especially, we recognize and pray for the Church.  We know our Lord calls us to proclaim the Gospel in word and deed and to be a source of light in a dark world in a dark time.  It is hard work.  There never seems to be an end.  Heck, sometimes we wonder if we are ever making a difference.  So we throw those cares to God and ask Him to sustain each and every member of His Church, that we might never tire of doing the work He has given us to do.

     We will pray for all those who have died.  We will remind ourselves of what happened at Baptism and Confirmation and of the truth we proclaim each and every time we share the Eucharist.  Those who have died to self and asked God to be Lord of their life are promised eternal life.  The same God who came down from heaven and was made man, who suffered and died for us because of His tender love for each and every one of us, the same God who was raised from the dead and ascended back to the Father, the same God who sent the Holy Spirit to us, that we might do wonderful and mighty works in His Name, has only one promise left to fulfill for us.  He has promised that on a glorious Day He will return to recreate the heavens and the earth and pass judgment on all humanity.  Those who chose Him, who did their best to live the life described by the disciple’s life in Baptism, will enter into an inheritance prepared since the beginning of time.  All of us.

     It is that time of year when families gather, and so I like to remind us of our hope with this image.  You and I gather today and remember our fellow pilgrims and thank God for putting us in this journey together.  But as we chew on His flesh.  As we grind that morsel in the face of death in the midst of a pandemic, we proclaim His Resurrection and await His Second Coming, clinging stubbornly to that promise.  You see, we are not without hope this day even as our loved ones are no longer among us.  We know, we know that the One who loves us and has power to conquer death, has promised each one of us, and those who have preceded us in death, that on that glorious Day, we will leave this kids’ table behind.  Right now, we are thankful that we get to eat His flesh and drink His blood, because that food and that drink is but a promise of what is in store for us.  On that glorious Day He will call us all to His Table, a Table set for the Great Marriage Feast, where we will dine on delicacies we can neither imagine or prepare ourselves, and we will do that dining with all who proclaim Him Lord.  One day, my brothers and sisters, we will be united with those whom we lost.  We will see them in all their redemptive glory!  We will hear them regale us with the stories of His saving grace in their lives.  We will do the same with them.  And we will celebrate that our Father in heaven has brought us all home for eternity.  As hard as it seems this day, in this place, in this time, that is His promise.  And because He raised our Lord Christ that glorious Easter morning, we know He can raise them and us when that time comes!

 

In His glorious peace,

Brian†