Sermon for August 10, 2003

(9^th Sunday after Pentecost)

by The Rev. Susan Anslow Williams

 

 

The Episcopal Church Welcomes You

 

I suppose I could treat this as any other Sunday, carrying on as if nothing unusual had occurred in the past week or two. But some of you may be here this morning because some new and controversial things have taken place in our church, our Big Church – the Episcopal Church – at its triennial Convention which ended this past Friday. Yes, I was there.  Yes, I voted on these resolutions. But more about that in a moment.

 

First I want to dispel some misinformation that’s been spreading the country, and indeed the world,  thanks to certain alarmists claiming that our Church is hopelessly divided and doing terrible things to itself; plus hinting – or outright bawling – to secular media hungry for scandal, that we Deputies and Bishops were verbally and theologically attacking one another, going for the jugular, in Minneapolis.

 

Nothing could be further from the truth. In its own right, and especially when compared with the last decade or so, this Convention was truly holy time; and nearly everyone who testified on these matters spoke the truth as they had experienced it, with love, honesty and respect for those who disagreed with them.

 

Occasionally even the press picked up on this: an editorial in the Dallas Morning News, clearly penned by someone who was actually attending our sessions, observed:

... We have been struck by the calm and deliberative process the Episcopalians followed in reaching their conclusion... The discussions among the clergy and laity were marked not by cheap name-calling but by honest soul-searching. And yes, there is division. But the common bond of faith took precedence.

The editorial concluded: Perhaps their thoughtfulness and mutual respect for one another on this issue will have a positive impact on how all of us Americans carry on our larger societal debate. At least we hope so. [1]

 

I took heart from that editorial, shared with us in the House of Deputies by our President, George Werner, because that really is my impression of our debate on these matters. Honest soul-searching, mutual respect, and – to use a phrase unfamiliar to the press – godly love, agapé.  We spoke to one another as family – not always the best metaphor, I know, but perhaps the most appropriate, for all families have their feuds,  their power-struggles, and even the occasional reconciliation. So when those decisions finally had to be made, the votes cast and the results announced, there was no whooping or hollering, neither wailing nor cursing – just an awed silence, conveying the profound awareness that yes, our Church has changed; we will never be the same again. For some that was a huge relief; for others, deeply distressing. But no-one took it lightly.

 

There were signs all around us, that the Church had undergone transformation already.  Young deputies (that’s under 30, I’m an old-timer now!), members of the official Youth Presence, mostly high-school age, and deputies in a wide spectrum of skin colors and accents all helped to proclaim the new levels of inclusivity  that the Episcopal Church has reached. Decisions to broaden our welcome of gay and lesbian persons and to proclaim their worthiness for all our sacraments and leadership positions illustrated, for me, a flinging wider of the same doors that have let in – after much debate – slaves and freedmen, divorced persons, women in leadership and women in clericals, and young children to the communion rail. It is one more underlining of the text you see on our signs, or on this beach towel that I bought at one of the many exhibit booths:  The Episcopal Church Welcomes You.

 

Whoever you are, whatever your joys and your pains, whatever your needs or your gifts or your emptiness, come to this Church and present them here to God,   in the presence of our one Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who said “Come to me and I will give you rest.” That offer is made equally to those who are deeply offended  by the steps taken at this General Convention; and to those who have been so scarred by their previous experiences of “Christian” communities that they thought no place would ever really offer them welcome.

 

I want to say, as a Deputy to General Convention, as a priest of the Church and as your Associate Rector, that everyone IS welcome here at St. Luke’s.  We all need to be fed at this altar; we all need supportive companions on our journeys of life and faith.     As St. Paul has said, particularly in his First Letter to the highly dysfunctional Church in Corinth, “No one can say, because you are not like me, I have no need of you.”[2]

 

And this morning, in his letter to the Christians in Ephesus, Paul says: “Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.”[3]

 

Jesus spent his life preaching that forgiveness, and assuring outcasts of many types that no-one who turns to him and believes, will be turned away by God. That particular promise is found in John 6:37, one of the verses skipped over by the Lectionary this morning in an effort to focus on the “Bread of Heaven” theme. That’s an excision that I find frustrating, because it’s part and parcel of Jesus’ point: everyone is invited to the table; everyone is rendered equal – in sin and unworthiness,  and in undeserved but complete forgiven-ness – by Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.

 

To the Jewish leaders who were complaining about his claims and the universal invitation he was offering, Jesus reminds them of a quote from Isaiah:  “They shall all be taught by God.”[4] This little half-verse is part of a wonderful chapter (54) in which the prophet declares: Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated.  You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.[5]

     

What a vision that our Gospel holds before us in this quick reference! Like the dream of fulfillment offered by Isaiah, Jesus proclaims welcome to the sinner, reunion to the outcast and nourishment to the deeply hungry. I think that message lies at the heart of our decisions in Minneapolis; it’s certainly what I heard the Holy Spirit saying to me as I listened to the stories of men and women, gay and straight, who found wholeness, perhaps for the first time, through the liturgies and supportive congregations of our Church.

 

Everyone is welcome to come and experience that equality. God’s mercy flows freely here – reach out your hands to accept it in your prayers, in exchanging the peace and in taking Holy Communion.   This family is bound together, not by our own worthiness or good behavior, but by the loving sacrifice of Jesus, who prayed that we all might be one.  May we refuse to be like so many terribly wounded and wounding families, who refuse to talk to each other about painful topics; or who can’t ever seem to stop fighting; or who banish their children when they finally summon the courage to share who they really are, and ask for love, support, and faithful companionship.

 

I am proud of our Church for trying to be a family that welcomes all the children; that strives to proclaim the good news of Jesus to everyone and live out his commandment to love one another. I also sorrow for the wounds our Church has inflicted on many of her members, and I pledge to be an agent of healing. Please come talk to me, or to Eric or Ross, if you are in pain over this, or want to know more about what this all means. Please also come talk to us if you are newly joyful, newly hopeful, and want to know more about our church.

 

Through the days and weeks ahead, please pray with me and with many others, for the peace that passes human understanding to seep into our Episcopal anxieties, so we might all know, more deeply than any concern that divides us, that each of us is loved by God, has been forgiven by God, and belongs to one family, through God’s Son Jesus Christ.  Good news of welcome, writ large.   

Amen. 

-----------------------------------