March 2, 2008
(The Fourth Sunday in Lent)
Children of Light
by The Rev. Carol Sanford,
Priest Associate
1 Samuel 16:1-13 • Psalm 23 • Ephesians
5:8-14 • John 9:1-41
(From
The Lectionary Page)
I just have to mention the weather. It has been very strange for several months now, first snowing then unseasonably warm then snowing again. Temperatures are far above normal today, and I believe we are expecting snow this evening. I have found these wild swings to be somewhat confusing, and evidently so have the plants in my front yard. The daffodils and hyacinths along our walk tried to have spring in November. They were, of course, demolished by the cold.
But I made a wonderful discovery a few days ago. Those same plants have returned. I don’t understand how they can be all green and fresh again, but somehow the earth and the sun and the seasons have asserted a natural order after all, one more time, and those green sprouts are back on schedule.
We are well along in Lent, now, and we’re turning more fully into the heart of our great story, the story of ever-greening life in God. I’ve been thinking lately about how odd and wonderful it is that our Holy Scripture carries within it seeds of life planted thousands of years ago that just keep popping up one more time, right on schedule, and sprouting in our midst.
I believe others have attempted this, but I thought it might be fun after our very long Gospel reading, to try to tell our Christian story in a very condensed form. See if you can follow along.
In the beginning, garden, us, snake, oops, flood, Abraham, Egypt, Exodus, tablets, prophets, war, David, war, Mary, star, baby, baptism, healing, teaching , supper, betrayal, death, resurrection, ascension, Holy Spirit, disciples, Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral, Eternal Glory. I know I left out a lot of highlights, but did you follow the story?
You may be thinking that I made up that cathedral part, but I didn’t. We’re right there in Holy Scripture. We are, for example, in Ephesians where it talks about children of Light. That’s us. That’s each one of us, and it is us as the Church in the world, and it is us as the Episcopal Cathedral in the heart of this city.
Yesterday morning, Founders’ Hall was filled as we gathered as a parish to begin discerning how we are called into new life. Through prayer and contemplation and conversation, and through hearing the Word of God and sharing Holy Communion with one another, we opened ourselves to new understanding and mission.
As we explored the theme of ‘servant ministry,’ we posted colorful papers on the windows with our ideas and visions of who we are and where we might be going. I was struck by the effect it gave, as of great stained glass windows with open space between the panes so that the light flowed both in from the world and back out to it, rather like the effect of an energizing spring breeze.
Martin Smith, in his Lenten meditation book A Season for the
Spirit, says that
“The Spirit does not come to us in a pipeline from the past, but
blows upon us from the future.” I believe that is happening here at
the cathedral. It was evident to me yesterday that we cherish the
amazing heritage of this place and that we celebrate who we are
right now, and that we are also feeling the breath of the Spirit
opening our eyes and freshening us and calling us into the future.
We are feeling the warmth and the call and the challenge of the breath of God. Like Sarah and Moses and David and Mary and even Jesus for at least those few moments on the cross when he cried out to God the Father, we may be afraid or confused or uncertain of outcomes.
As human beings whose brains do not always work to our benefit, we sometimes forget that the Lord is our Shepherd; that God is trustworthy. There can be some false starts and some damaging cold, but new life comes through in the end if we let it. The difference between the spring bulbs that are peeping up in our yards and the human history of life with God, is that we must make choices. As far as I know, the tulip bulbs aren’t under the earth worrying about whether they’ll like the shape or size of their flower or if it might be too hot out there in the daylight. The bulbs simply go about their task of responding to and being transformed by the warmth and nourishment of the sun, and then they unfold according to what is already written within them
The Spirit blows upon us from eternity, in the present and from the past and from the future, and here at this table we give thanks over and over again as God creation of us continues, one more time, right on schedule. Like all disciples since the time of Christ we are, in fact, walking into unknown territory, but we walk as children of light in the Light of God, accompanied by all those who have built this place in stone and in Spirit. We walk as children of light because God is faithful and because others have walked ahead of us and beside us.
If that had not been true, if faithful people had not responded to the breath of God, risks would never have been taken to rebuild the cathedral after fire and collapse; we would not welcome the hungry onto our campus, our choir would be missing many voices silenced by prejudice, and our clergy staff and would be much diminished; certainly no woman would sing or preach in this place. The Common Room wouldn’t be cluttered up with all the groups that meet there, and Founders’ Hall would stay tidy and no children would mess up the playground, but it’s too late for all that. We’ve already sprouted. We have been set back by chilly winds at times, but we are most certainly up and greening right now.
We are in the midst of writing the Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral chapter of the ongoing story of the children of God.
If you are relatively new to the Cathedral, as I am, look around you today at those who have faithfully walked with Christ before you to build and bring this place to what it is now. If you have been here for several years or for a lifetime, look around you at what you have joined with God in creating and at the new life which you are ushering in. And let each of us look into the community beyond our campus and into our own hearts, and watch for the newness there waiting to emerge.
We don’t have to know exactly where we are going, only that when our eyes are newly opened one more time and we feel the breath of the Spirit on our faces, we respond as God’s children and heirs. We walk faithfully to prepare the way for the next generations of this cathedral and this city. We walk as children of light into the great Paschal feast that is God’s Glory and Life Everlasting.
We can be a shining beacon and a very green space indeed in the heart of this city. I want to walk as a child of the light, and I want you walking beside me.
