July 25, 2010
(Ninth Sunday after Pentecost; The
Ending of a Pastoral Relationship)
(From The Lectionary Page)
Votive for All Baptized Christians
by The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean
At a Celebration of Holy Eucharist including the Liturgy for Ending a Pastoral Relationship and Leave Taking
Over the last couple of weeks I have been asked how one goes about constructing a homily on a day such as this.
I looked at the farewell speeches of presidents to the nation and military leaders to their commands, but those didn’t seem to apply.
I ventured a glance at what proved to be the last words of moral heroes like Ghandi and King but this situation is not the same.
I looked for inspiration in the Bible’s accounts of Moses and Joshua saying good-bye. (By the way, I stayed away from re-reading Jesus’ farewell discourse. Some bishops suffer from a messiah-complex and I didn’t want to fall into that trap prematurely!)
I even poured over the category of farewell humor which included this bulletin blooper: Next Sunday the pastor will preach his farewell message, after which the choir will sing the anthem, "Break Forth Into Joy."
None of the farewell literature I looked at provided any particular guidance, for what we do together this morning is not defined by “good-bye” or a “last” anything. What we do today is give thanks to God for ministry shared, and for ministry we will continue to carry-out in our respective parts of the Lord’s vineyard.
With the Bishop’s permission the appointed readings for today have been set aside, and we heard the lessons for a votive mass for all Baptized Christians which place before us the meaning of baptism, and particularly, how living as baptized people is a continual journey.
Since the day of our baptism, you and I have been in a perpetual state of transition. Occasionally that means literally moving from one place to another, walking with the Lord to a new place as if we were with the disciples travelling from Jerusalem to Galilee. Military and clergy families are among those who experience this type of transition and relocation many times.
But most of the time our journey is interior: growing in grace, or moving into deep commitment, or becoming more generous in attitude and action, or delving more deeply into the riches of Christ’s love for us. This morning we acknowledge both realities, and in one way or the other, we are all on a journey, we are all in transition.
St. Paul writes that we have been buried with Christ in his death, and raised to new life. Each time we renew our baptismal covenant, the Holy Spirit calls us to some new aspect of life or faith or ministry, to become a new and different expression of servanthood. Mark’s account of James and John asking for places of honor and the disciples’ rebuke sets the stage for Jesus’ stunning proclamation: I came not to be served, but to serve. This is the model for each of us and for the Church. Our baptismal journey, the roads we travel after we emerge from the waters of the font, must take us deeper into living as servants.
Over these last several weeks our family has been preparing to move. A huge hurdle for us was accomplished in the last 48 hours as we found a house in Louisville that will be our home soon. And we are still getting a home in Liberty ready to sell (and if you’d like to hear more about a stunning 5 bedroom, 3 ½ bath with a finished walk out basement, please see me later!)
As you know, getting a house ready for sale means touching up things. With the help of some great friends, needed repairs have been made to our porch, and last week I applied the paint, which required me to use a ladder and move it many, many times.
This caused me to think about an illustration from an Easter Day sermon a few years ago about a ladder found at Jerusalem’s Church of the Holy Sepulchre, venerated as the site of Christ’s resurrection. An agreement between several Christian traditions created in 1853 spells out in great detail which group has control of which part of the Sepulchre, including who owns a wooden ladder that is no longer needed to access the shrine. However, because of the 19th century agreement, the ladder cannot be moved. In fact, when it was last moved, a riot broke out, injuries were sustained, and police had to separate the fighting holy men. The 1853 agreement which forbids the moving of the ladder is called the Status Quo. That Easter Day I challenged us to move ladders in order for Christ’s new life to be known in new ways and shared with those sisters and brothers too easily ignored and pushed to the margins of society and the Church.
Based on my porch-painting experience, I’ll add a bit to that illustration. Not only must one move ladders to accomplish work, but ladders must be placed in just the right place to ensure that new work can be completed. In baptism, Christ claims us, and throughout our life’s journey moves us, places us, precisely where our gifts our needed. You and I are called to be vessels of God’s unconditional love, those who repair the breach and bridge chasm of ignorance and prejudice. We are called to forgive, love, heal, and serve in new ways.
Paul describes the new life given us at baptism as the result of dying to old ways that rob us and the world of Christ’s love, in order that the new life of God might run rampant through the Church. Paul is speaking of divine power so great that death is utterly defeated. As a community of faith, we have are given the Risen Lord’s own Spirit in Baptism, and His new life in the Sacrament of His Body and Blood, re-creating us to be agents, ambassadors, indeed the very embodiment of the One whose unconditional love has saved us and claimed us forever.
This is the mission you and I are called to live into and share in the Body of Christ. And if we are to continue growing into this mission, we must recognize that our lives are always in transition, always in transit, moving with Christ, deeper into God’s heart and love and grace. There is only one road we can take on this journey, one path to follow: the way of the cross. By walking in Christ’s steps and living out the unconditional love of the cross, we become great in the kingdom of God, servants for Jesus’ sake. This is how to become effective in mission, true servants of the One who came to serve, ladder-movers for the kingdom!
You have taught me much of God’s love, and I pray you will never cease to give thanks for the countless gifts for ministry present in this place. And further, I pray you will never rest and settle for the status quo.
During my years with you God has blessed me with amazing colleagues, and you, too, are blessed to have them as continuing companions on the way. Love them as you work together to be the servant church, the cathedral at the heart of this city. You are doubly blessed with gifted lay leaders who will enable discernment in this season, leading to the call of your next ordained leader whom God has already prepared. These are exciting times to be the Church. Rejoice in the opportunities ahead!
The journey begun at baptism never ends, and though a few miles will now separate us, we are ever one in Christ in baptism.
I am deeply touched by your desire to give me a pectoral cross, that, whether in vestments or street clothes, will always be worn over my heart. Even more so, know that you will always be in my heart, and Linda Sue, Tim, and Becky join me in saying “thank you” and “we love you.”
As you enter a new season here, your ministry continues on. That ministry flourished long before I arrived, and will grow stronger in the years ahead, because no deacon, priest, dean, or bishop makes ministry happen: all ministry flows from baptism, from all the baptized, from each one of you. As the children of Israel were led by a pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire by night, so we will you and I always be led. As God’s people were fed in the wilderness by manna from heaven, so may we all remember that in this Holy Meal, the Real Presence of Christ feeds and sustains us. Jesus is our strength and shield. And may he continue to bless you always!
Let us now reaffirm our baptismal promises and renew our commitment to Jesus Christ. Please open the prayer book to page 292.
And now, the opening tale from today's serrmon:
A dying man gathered his best friends – a lawyer, doctor and clergyman – at his bedside and handed each of them an envelope containing $25,000 in cash. He made them each promise that after his death and during his repose, they would place the three envelops in his coffin. He told them that he wanted to have enough money to enjoy the next life.
A week later the man died. At the wake, the lawyer and doctor and clergyman each concealed an envelope in the coffin and bid their old client and friend farewell.
By chance, these three met several months later. Soon the clergyman, feeling guilty, blurted out a confession saying that there was only $10,000 in the envelope he placed in the coffin. He felt, rather than waste all the money, he would send it to a mission in South America. He asked for their forgiveness.
The doctor, moved by the gentle Clergyman’s sincerity, confessed that he too had kept some of the money for a worthy medical charity. The envelope, he admitted, had only $8000 in it. He said he too could not bring himself to waste the money so frivolously when it could be used to benefit others.
By this time the Lawyer was seething with self-righteous outrage. He expressed his deep disappointment in the felonious behavior of two of his oldest and most trusted friends. "I am the only one who kept my promise to our dying friend. I want you both to know that the envelope I placed in the coffin contained the full amount.
The other men looked down in embarrassment and the lawyer continued, "Indeed, only I honored the deathbed wishes of our great friend. My envelope contained my personal check for the entire $25,000."