Read the Sermon for September 2, 2012
(There is no audio available for this week's sermon.)
Fear is one of the greatest enemies of spiritual discernment. If you are involved in a process of spiritual discernment, you need all the verifiable facts and details of the situation before you. But you also need wisdom, courage, hope, and vision in seeking God's will and fear gets in their way.
Fear is a natural and instinctive response, which human beings have in common with reptiles, aquatic life, birds, and other mammals. It stems from the brain's limbic system and is necessary for survival. However, unlike the other creatures with which we share this planet, we are endowed with the cerebral cortex, giving us the ability to reason and to find resources with which to overcome fear. That ability is necessary for human beings to be stewards of creation and co-creators with God. The ability to overcome fear is essential for any pioneering endeavor. Every person or group who have ever contributed to the forward progress of civilization have had to overcome fear, and that is particularly true in the realm of spiritual progress.
It is fair to say that the entire canon of Scripture is a testimony to the triumph of spiritual discernment over fear. Some examples:
When God's people were in exile, their fears almost overcame their hope of ever returning home. The prophet Isaiah gave them a message from God to overcome those fears. Those words, recorded in the 43rd chapter of the Book of Isaiah, inspired the talented Anglican musician, Philip Stopford, to compose this lovely anthem. My prayer for you, in the midst of your time of discernment, is that they will help you rise above your fears and hear the words of wisdom, courage, hope, and vision God has for you.
Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by your name;
you are mine.
When you walk through the waters,
I'll be with you;
you will never sink beneath the waves.
When the fire is burning all around you,
you will never be consumed by the flames.
Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by your name;
you are mine.
When the fear of loneliness is looming,
then remember I am at your side.
When you dwell in the exile of a stranger,
remember you are precious in my eyes.
Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by your name;
you are mine.
You are mine,O my child,
I am your Father,
and I love you with a perfect love.
Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by your name;
you are mine.
The word "discernment" is used often in the Episcopal Church. At Calvary Episcopal Church in Ashland, Kentucky, it's been used quite a lot lately as the leaders of the parish are attempting to discern who should be called as the next rector. Those priests who are under consideration have also been discerning if they are called to come to Calvary. We describe it as a process of mutual discernment. But what is that and how does it work?
In attempting to understand the meaning of words, I find it helpful to know something about their etymology. For example, the word discern is directly from the Latin discernere, meaning "to separate, set apart, divide, distribute, distinguish, or perceive." The word is made up of the two Latin roots, dis, meaning "off or away," and cernere, meaning to "distinguish, separate, or sift." So, discernment is a process of sorting that leads to a decision about something.
We use the term very intentionally in Christian circles when the decision has spiritual significance and requires the guidance of the Holy Spirit. For example, we probably would not speak of "discerning" which brand of pet food to buy, which flight to take, or which direction to walk around the park. As important as those decisions may be, we probably don't need much guidance from the Holy Spirit to make them. However, if we are attempting to reach a decision about an action that may be good or evil in the eyes of God, about whether we are called to a particular ministry in the Church, or about which priest will be our next rector, that would be discernment. We need the assistance of the Holy Spirit to reach decisions like those.
Hiring a CEO of a corporation, a member of a company staff, or a lawn service, usually requires a very thoughtful process that includes reviewing resumes, calling references, performing background checks, and interviews. We might pray about it, but it would not normally be a requirement in the secular setting. In this Church, clergy are not hired; they are called. Search committees, vestries, and clergy are all very well aware that there is a distinction and that distinction has to do with the work of the Holy Spirit among us. Remember that God called the prophets, they did not volunteer. Jesus called the Disciples, they were not hired. It is in that spirit that clergy in this Church are sought out and, following a period of mutual spiritual discernment, may be called to a position.
The practices of deploying clergy in different places of ministry varies from one communion to another. However, in every instance I am aware of, there is some discernment on the part of the calling or sending body, those who provide oversight, and the clergy under consideration. These decisions are made after a prayerful, godly process in which there is a sorting out or sifting that leads to a decision.
The process we follow is informed by scripture, tradition, reason, and experience. These are the lenses, as it were, through which we examine one another, all the while asking the Holy Spirit to help us to see what we need to see and hear what we need to hear. After we've done our "homework", following the pattern of St. Ignatius, we ask God a somewhat simple question. "God, is this your will or not?" And God answers with a somewhat simple answer, "Yes or No." Ignatius said we would normally sense the answer as a feeling of consolation or a feeling of desolation.
So, as the discernment process for calling a new rector for Calvary Episcopal Church in Ashland, Kentucky nears its conclusion, I invite you to uphold the nominating committee, the vestry, and the candidates in discernment with your prayers. May they yield to the guidance of the Holy Spirit and continue to rely upon the same Holy Spirit in carrying out the decision they are called to make.
Here are two prayers from the Book of Common Prayer.
Almighty God, giver of every good gift: Look graciously on your Church, and so guide the minds of those who shall choose a rector for this parish, that we may receive faithful pastors, who will care for your people and equip us for our ministries; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
O God, by whom the meek are guided in judgment, and light rises up in darkness for the godly: Grant us, in all our doubts and uncertainties, the grace to ask what you would have us to do, that the Spirit of wisdom may save us from all false choices, and that in your light we may see light, and in your straight path may not stumble; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
This portion of Solomon’s Prayer at the Dedication of the Temple (I Kings 8:27-30, 41-43) has always impressed me:
“But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built! Regard your servant's prayer and his plea, O LORD my God, heeding the cry and the prayer that your servant prays to you today; that your eyes may be open night and day toward this house, the place of which you said, `My name shall be there,' that you may heed the prayer that your servant prays toward this place. Hear the plea of your servant and of your people Israel when they pray toward this place; O hear in heaven your dwelling place; heed and forgive.
“Likewise when a foreigner, who is not of your people Israel, comes from a distant land because of your name — for they shall hear of your great name, your mighty hand, and your outstretched arm– when a foreigner comes and prays toward this house, then hear in heaven your dwelling place, and do according to all that the foreigner calls to you, so that all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your people Israel, and so that they may know that your name has been invoked on this house that I have built.”
Like so many before and after him, Solomon erected a physical monument to mark a place where the Divine Presence had been manifested. Thereafter, that place and that monument became revered as what some might call a “thin place” where the presence, mystery, and power of the Eternal could be experienced. The Unseen Deity dwelt in a physical structure and those who came there to worship the Deity would have their prayers answered and the hungers of their hearts satisfied.
What is especially fascinating to me is that Solomon, King of a specific and chosen race of people, makes it abundantly clear that the God whose glory dwelt in this physical Temple was not their private God. This God of Israel also answers the prayers of foreigners who are not of God’s people Israel. How often people who think of themselves as God’s own people have forgotten this kind of radically inclusive monotheism!
Years ago, when Gay and I were visiting Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, I was impressed that they opened the great central doors in the west end of the Cathedral during the reading of the Gospel and at the time of the dismissal. As the procession passed through the worshipping congregation during the singing of the last hymn, everyone turned around and faced that open door. Then, at the end of the hymn, the Deacon gave the dismissal, “Let us go forth in the Name of Christ.” And we all responded, “Thanks be to God.”
I have borrowed that ceremonial custom in congregations where I have served, although people on the back pew have convinced me that there are some Sunday mornings when the weather is just too cold to open the doors. It seems to me to be a powerful way to remind ourselves that the Gospel with which we have been entrusted is not meant to be confined to our beautiful sacred building, but is for the world beyond those doors. When we are dismissed into that world, it reinforces the belief that the nourishment we have received in Word and Sacrament inside the house of worship is to fortify us for the work God has prepared for us to do outside in the mission field at our doorstep. What happens inside the edifice with the gathered congregation is in the service of the purpose we are to pursue as we scatter after worship. It is not just to make us feel holy. It is to make it possible for us to be witnesses to God's holiness in the living of our lives.
As my mother used to say, "You may be the only bible some people ever read."
Whenever the structures of Christianity, whether our buildings or our governance, become more important than God’s mission, we have drifted into idolatry. The God we worship cannot be contained in our structures any more than in the highest heaven. The God we worship is not our private God. The God we worship took on human flesh in Jesus Christ, went to and from the Temple, and became the Temple so that all people could be drawn to him when we lift him up. That is our mission, both inside and outside the structures we have created.
When these structures cease to serve that mission, we don’t need to tear them down. But we do need to revise them so that they may be restored to their rightful purpose in service to the Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer of all Creation.
P.S. – This great English hymn comes to mind, especially the second stanza.
On Saturday, clergy and lay deputies from the Diocese of Lexington will gather at Christ Church Cathedral to elect the Seventh Bishop of Lexington. The election will take place in the context of a celebration of the Holy Eucharist. Prayers are offered as each ballot is taken. Votes are taken by orders – lay and clergy. A majority of the deputies and a majority of the clergy are required to elect the bishop. Following each ballot, those present are told how many votes each candidate received from each order. Occasionally, a bishop is elected on the first ballot. However, it usually takes several ballots. One candidate begins to “rise” and is finally elected.
Each of us has a role to play in choosing the Bishop as well. In addition to all the things we’ve been doing to become acquainted with those who have offered themselves as candidates, we are invited to pray for them and for those who will be voting. It should come as no surprise that the Book of Common Prayer can help us do our part.
I recommend that you begin by reading the simple description of the ministry of bishops that is found in the Catechism:
“The ministry of a bishop is to represent Christ and his church, particularly as apostle, chief priest, and pastor of a diocese; to guard the faith, unity, and discipline of the whole Church; to proclaim the Word of God; to act in Christ’s name for the reconciliation of the world and the building up of the Church; and to ordain others to continue Christ’s ministry” (BCP, pg.855).
Then, turn to page 512 and read the text of the liturgy that will be used in December when the new Bishop is ordained by Presiding Bishop and at least two other Bishops. There you will find the ministry of Bishops described more fully. You will also find the questions the new Bishop will be asked to answer and the declarations her or she will make in the presence of the Church in Lexington.
Finally, I invite you to offer the prayer we have been using in worship for the last six months:
Almighty God, giver of every good gift: Look graciously on your Church, and so guide the minds of those who shall choose a bishop for this Diocese, that we may receive a faithful pastor, who will care for your people and equip us for our ministries; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
When we gather on Sunday morning, we’ll start saying a new prayer for the one who has been chosen to lead the people of this diocese into the next era of mission.
While reviewing study notes in my file for the coming Sunday, Proper 14B in the Revised Common Lectionary, I came across the following handwritten entry:
“The New Testament knows no more meaningful act for affecting and witnessing to the relationship of Christians with one another and with Christ than eating together. Whoever removes eating from the list of profoundly religious acts will have great difficulty with the Gospel message.”
If these are someone else’s words, I failed to footnote them. I would like to give whoever wrote or spoke them credit. If they are words that came to me in a moment of inspiration when I was reflecting upon Jesus “Bread of Life Discourse” in the sixth chapter of the Gospel According to St. John, good! Wherevery the words came from, I believe they are words of wisdom.
On the same note card, I had also listed the words “companion”, “companionship”, and “company.” Perhaps I did that because the etymology of “companion” relates to the substance of my note about Christ, Christians, and meals. The origin of the word teaches us that food fuels relationships. The word “companion”, from the Latin com “with” and panis “bread”, reminds us that food and meals we share with others satisfies more than physical hunger. To share a meal with someone implies a level of comfort and a sense of security with another person or group of persons. The English “companion”, the Spanish “companero”, the Italian “compagno”, and the French “copain” all come from the Latin root that means “with whom one eats bread.”
Is it any wonder that the heart of the Church’s worship is a meal, that the presence of Christ is known in the breaking of bread, and that eating together at other times is such a central part of life in Christian community? Is it any wonder that we are spending five Sundays in a row exploring the layers of meaning in the sixth chapter of John?
I remember a story told by an Episcopal Priest concerning an experience early in his ministry. He came home from a very difficult vestry meeting in which he was denied pursuit of a vision about which he was passionate. He put his little daughter in her high chair, tied her bib around her neck, opened a jar of baby food, and proceeded to feed her. During the meal, his mind was still on his profound disappointment and he began to weep. His daughter, who could not yet speak, understood the language of her father’s tears. She picked up her spoon, scooped up some baby food, and held it up to his lips. After he opened his mouth and tasted his daughter’s offering, she picked up the napkin and wiped the tears from his eyes.
In the course of a meal, without words but with signs and actions, a little child brought compassion and helped the healing begin in her father. Jesus Christ does that with us each time we feast at his banquet table and whenever we break bread with one another in his Name. He did for the multitude on the hillside, for his first disciples in the Upper Room, for those two pilgrims at Emmaus, and he does it still in simple country chapels and magnificent cathedrals. He promises to gather us at a great banquet in heaven. We are his companions in this life and the life to come.
"Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh" (John 6:51).