Serving a Feast

June 27, 2004 (Fourth Sunday after Pentecost -- Proper 8)

By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean

- 1 Kings 19:15-16,19-21
- Psalm 16 or 16:5-11
- Galatians 5:1,13-25
- Luke 9:51-62

(From The Lectionary Page)

“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head.” With these words either Jesus is describing his itinerary, that he will preach and teach in a new town every day, or he has just moved into a new house and all the boxes prevent him from getting to his bed!

It is with great joy that finally, after weeks and weeks of anticipation, I join you around the Lord’s Table this morning. The welcome that Linda Sue, Tim, Rebekah and I have received has been genuinely warm and so very gracious. We appreciate your many kindnesses very much. It really feels like we belong here, and I look forward to meeting you after the liturgy.

Not only do I want to get to know you as quickly as possible, but if we keep talking long enough today, that means I won’t have to go home and unpack more boxes!

In the weeks before ending my pastoral relationship with the people of Trinity Church, Highland Park, Illinois, the Gospel readings for the last few weeks of the Easter season were taken from the portion of John’s Gospel often called the farewell discourse, Our Lord’s most intimate words to his disciples on the night before his Passion. I often chuckled as the deacon read passages such as, “Where I am going, you cannot come,” and “It is for your sake that I go away.”

So as I read through today’s Gospel appointed for our first Sunday as priest and people, I was immediately drawn to that verse: “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head.” This is the first of four vignettes immediately following Jesus’ descent from the Mount of the Transfiguration.

St. Luke’s text translated in English reads, “when the days drew near” Jesus set face to go to Jerusalem. Richard Carlson says that a more accurate rendering of the Greek is “when the days were made full” Jesus begins the journey, the pilgrimage that will make salvation a free gift for all. When the days were made full, when God’s plan was ready to be fulfilled. (New Proclamation, Year C, Easter through Pentecost, p.123.)

For us as servants within this Cathedral community, today should feel quite full. God’s plan for you and me, for this parish, for this metropolitan area is continually coming into focus. There is a sacred fullness we do well to reverence this morning. Christ is calling us to set our face in a clear direction today, so that the love, forgiveness and healing of God might be known more deeply. That sense of fullness has nothing to do with the arrival of a new dean; it has everything to do with the gracious presence of the Risen Christ in our midst.

I like to cook, and I enjoy browsing through cooking magazines and watching the Food Channel. As we were readying our kitchen for the move, I came across a cookbook from a small church in my hometown in southeast Iowa. The cookbook had a recipe that you may have seen in various places, it is a recipe for “Elephant stew.” It is a simple recipe: boil one elephant until tender, add salt and pepper to taste, serve with ketchup, lots and lots of ketchup.

That same recipe would work well for Elisha, who served a feast of ox stew before he responded to Elijah’s call to become a prophet. Before beginning his new vocation, Elisha asks for time to kiss his parents good-bye, and then serves up enough ox stew to feed a multitude. When cook up the oxen? Because Elisha has no intention of returning to his former life. God had called, and he would not look back.

The Church looks back when we are tentative about carrying out what Christ has called us to do. By virtue of our baptism, we promise to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, to be faithful in coming together to break this holy bread. As people saved by grace we commit to seeking and serving Christ in all people, loving our neighbors as our selves. At baptism, we are anointed as prophets and receive the prophet’s mantle and work to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the freedom and dignity of every human being.

That work demands much, and sometimes, we grow tired and weary and hungry. And just when we want to hear Jesus say, “Come all who weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest,” Our Lord in this Gospel lesson says something quite different. He emphasizes the urgency and immediacy of our vocation, describes it in terms of not sleeping often enough in a place one might call home. And he asks that people not devote too much time to burials and good-byes because there is the Gospel to share.

In these four admonitions Jesus challenges us grasp how urgent is our mission to a world that too easily chooses violence as the solution to conflict a world that has so very far to go to adopt God’s vision for creation. Elisha made ox stew as a sign of his commitment. What are the signs of our commitment, the symbols of our vocation to wage peace and reconciliation?

Finally, this lesson also says that Jesus was rejected. And though James and John begged for permission to pray for heavenly fire to consume the rejecters, Jesus instead rebuked such notions of retribution, and Luke writes, “they went on to another village.”

No turning back, not even looking back. Moving on, with conviction, with purpose, with urgency, with peace that passes understanding.

My sisters and brothers: Three weeks ago, on my final Sunday in Highland Park, the postlude of Widor’s Toccata segued into “Everything’s Up To Date in Kansas City” (that was only the 50th time someone had brought up that tune but I appreciated the sentiment.) Just ten days ago, along with the three people I love most in the world we set our faces to Kansas City. And I say again, we are thrilled to be here.

Though we are only getting to know each other, there is much we already have in common. In baptism, we share a singular mission to witness to the Good News of God in Christ. That witness will be as unique as each of us; sometimes a strong witness, and other times less so. But as children of God we are called to preserve in our steadfast commitment even when we feel rejected, and if must we look backward, let us do so only to make sure that we are not leaving someone behind.

My first prayer for all of us, in our new relationship, is that we may follow the example of Elijah, who began his new vocation by serving a feast. There is a hungry world at our doorstep. Hungry for hope, forgiveness, dignity, wholeness, and purpose of life. May we each and all commit to the work of prophets and apostles, to carry out our work with a sense of urgency, and see our work as nothing less than serving a feast worthy of the Lord Christ.

And should we ever decide to publish a cookbook here, let us feature a new recipe for oxen or elephant barbecued.

My friends: It is good to be home.