Sermon Easter VII Acts 1:15-17, 21-26 13 May 2018 Year B

The gathering described in the Acts reading today is a between time, a transitional time. Jesus has ascended, but Pentecost, the gift of the Holy Spirit, has not yet occurred. The apostles returned to Jerusalem, and there they waited.

During this interim or between time, Peter reminds the gathered people of God of their purpose, and of Judas’ former role in that purpose. “For he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.”[1] Peter is recalling the past and what the disciples learned from the past.

These two things during a transition time are critical: recalling the past and storing those things that were hurtful or anger inducing in a place where we can access them when we need them but they have lost their hurt and anger. We want to keep what we learned from the past because that is the part than can help us.Without recalling what happened in the past and mining it for what it taught us, we might repeat the past mistakes. And, when we rediscover God’s purpose for us as a parish, we will be prepared to welcome the future.

This is what your Vestry is currently engaged in doing: rediscovering God’s purpose for St. Alban’s and putting it into words that can be on everyone’s lips when someone says, “Who are you and what are you about at St. Alban’s?”

As the story in Acts continues, it seems a little confusing to our contemporary ways of choosing people for various ministries in the church. What, after all, could be more silly than relying on casting lots, the equivalent of throwing dice, to decide who should become a leader in the church?

Look carefully at the way this story unfolds, though, and it has much to say about how we can make choices in the church. First, Peter points out the qualifications needed and what the duties are. “So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning with the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us – one of these must become a witness with us to his resurrection.”[2]

Someone is needed who knows what was learned in the past when Jesus was with them, and who knows what the purpose is now.

Next, candidates are chosen who meet those criteria. And here it isn’t so much a matter of age or longevity as it is one of understanding, of knowing the meaning and purpose of Jesus’ ministry, death and resurrection. It is only by the knowledge of these things that the apostles will have a witness qualified to do what needs to be done.

In the end, what this story can brings us to is the qualifications for leaders in the church and that includes lay leaders as well as clergy. Qualifications based on understanding rather than longevity, and on willingness to do what needs to be done using that understanding; qualifications that will support the future of St. Alban’s.

Lest you think this kind of decision-making is impossible in today’s church, let me give you an example from a church I served where they choose their vestry members, their governing body, in this way.

They have criteria for vestry, among which are:

·      Persons nominated for vestry conform to the canonical requirements of the church, meaning they are baptized members and have been confirmed or received into the Episcopal Church.

·      Vestry candidates are required to tithe or are working toward tithing. (For those of you unfamiliar with what this means, tithing is giving 10% of your annual pre-tax income to the church.)

·      Vestry candidates are given clear ministry descriptions and expectations to have an understanding of the ministry of the vestry.

·      Prospective candidates are regular attendees at worship.

Once qualified candidates are chosen, their names are put in a hat. At the annual meeting, the youngest member of the parish who can walk, talk and pull slips of paper out of a hat comes to the podium. S/He draws the appropriate number of names for new vestry members out of the hat.

How does it work? Beautifully. A big part of why it works is that no one wins or loses since each person has been identified as a potential leader. The names not drawn for vestry are given to the rector. The rector meets with each person to help them discern the passion and direction in which their leadership skills could flourish. And, to make sure all was legal, the parish had petitioned the bishop to waive the canons or rules of the diocese to permit such a method of choosing prior to their annual meeting. It had been done this way long before I arrived.

What all this tells us; both from our Acts reading, and the way that particular parish chose their leaders, is this. Church leaders have these five qualities.

·      They know Jesus Christ as Lord.

·      They publicly demonstrate their spiritual grounding through generous giving.

·      They know what is expected of them as vestry members.

·      They know what the parish has learned from the past.

·      They know what their parish’s purpose is now.

It’s interesting to note that we never hear anything more in scripture about either Matthias or the multi-named Joseph, called Barsabbas, known as Justus. Both of these men disappear into obscurity. What was important in this story was how they were chosen: with firm criteria and trust in God.

Think about this, please. How often do we really trust God is in our decision-making? How often do we spend time in prayer about the decision? What would happen if we did our part at the beginning? If we thought about what God wants in a leader, or a follower, for a particular ministry, before we recruited people? If we addressed these things in prayer, rather than getting nervous and asking the first warm body that walks by?

What if we behaved like Jesus’ apostles? “Then they prayed and said, ‘Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.’”[3]

And there is the other quality we sometimes forget about in church leadership. “Judas turned aside to go to his own place.” Implied in this is that Judas chose his own place rather than choosing the place of our Lord. The leaders the church desires are those who place God’s desire for the church above their own desires. This quality of seeking God first is shown in the outcomes of the scripture and can be shown here as well.

Your search committee is doing this. (Well, except for the casting lots part...) They are doing a superb ministry for this church, setting aside their own needs and desires. They have spent countless hours living the gospel to select your next rector. The next time you see one of these leaders of the church, thank him or her for being faithful followers of Jesus Christ. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2018

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[1] Acts 1:17 (NRSV)

[2] Acts 1:21-22 (NRSV)

[3] Acts 1:24-25 (NRSV)

Sermon Easter VI John 15:9-17 6 May 2018 Year B

Crazy Jesus. Crazy woman. Crazy children. Crazy big love.

         Crazy Jesus for saying something as nuts as, “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you…I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.”[1]

          When you think about this, it’s just crazy. Giving up one’s life just to be friends with someone? That’s a big thing to do. I mean really big. And yet, most of our relationships involve some level of giving up to one another some of our most cherished things. Sometimes it’s even the lives we thought we might live.

Most of us sail through life not thinking too much about loving one another, let alone a stranger, until we’re caught up short by crazy big love. Yet here is crazy Jesus telling us to love one another. And to love big.

Crazy woman. Crazy big love. Appropriately enough since Mothers’ Day is coming up next Sunday, here’s a story about a schizophrenic mother, someone who did not have good judgment, at least in the way the world judges. Yet she had Jesus’ crazy big love.

         This woman spent many years of her life in and out of hospitals and care centers for the mentally ill. She had a bit of inherited money, and luckily wasn’t usually relegated to the worst of the places many mentally ill people suffer. Toward the end of her life, she lived in what was known then as a “board and care” home; where the residents lived fairly independently with a measure of dignity and the ability to make decisions about at least some things.

Often at night, due to her lack of good judgment, this woman wandered the streets and hung out in cafes and outside homeless shelters. She got to know some of the people who frequented those places. Yes, she was crazy, and yes, both her health and safety were often the price she paid.

         Late one night, the board and care home’s owner and manager, who lived in a little house at the rear of the residents’ home, happened to look out his front window. He noticed the light was on in the kitchen, either very late or very early, depending on how you think about 3 am. He decided to investigate, as he remembered the light had been on earlier in the evening as well. Residents were allowed to fix snacks, but it concerned him that perhaps the lights had been left on.

         As the owner approached the back door, he discovered several poorly dressed and rather smelly people loitering about. He asked what they were doing there. They replied, “Waiting for sandwiches.”

         Inside the kitchen was the crazy woman, calmly spreading mayonnaise on bread and layering on lunchmeat and cheese. “Mary!” the owner exclaimed, “what are you doing?” She replied, “Fixing sandwiches for hungry people.” “But, Mary,” was his reply, “these people have food kitchens and churches for free meals.” “No they don’t,” said she, “it’s too far to walk. They camp out in our neighborhood and can’t afford the bus fare to get to those places for food.”

She was right, so he tried another tactic. “But Mary, the food you’re giving them belongs to the people who live here. You are stealing it from them.” Again, she calmly replied, “No I’m not. I have money to replace the food.” Her logic was unassailable.

         Now, who is the crazy one here? Who is giving up herself for the sake of friends? You can say all you want about craziness, or impracticality, or bad judgment, but who is showing Jesus’ crazy big love?   

          Sometimes it takes a crazy person or the straightforward reasoning of little children to point us toward Jesus’ crazy big love. I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to talk about mothers today, or even parents, because so many of us have conflicted relationships with parents. But here’s what I do know: the kind of reasoning my friends’ six-year-old twins often have is what we all need. Luckily, their mother recognizes and supports that reasoning. After all, Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.”[2]

So… let me tell you another story. This story is about two children and how they understand crazy big love. My friends’ little boys were four years old riding in the car to preschool. They were listening to music on CBC. (The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation for those of you who haven’t lived in Canada). The boys heard Lucy Wainwright Roche sing “Call Your Girlfriend.” You can hear it on YouTube or Google the lyrics.

         It’s a great song about crazy big love. It’s written in the voice of a young girl telling her new boyfriend to call his old girlfriend and tell her the relationship is over.

Here’s what my friend said about the boys’ reaction to the song. “Both boys wanted to sit in the car and listen to the whole thing. The song transfixed them. When it ended, we sat in the school parking lot and talked about the feelings in the song.  How it made them feel. How they were sad for the girlfriend. How beautiful and powerful it was.  How big love was. It was an amazing music moment. “A really adult song but here I have these two guys who are not even five yet and they got it.”[3] Crazy big love from two little four-year-old boys.

         None of us are perfect at love and none of us love with the crazy big love of Jesus Christ. Yet Jesus calls us to love as he loves and that is crazy big love. Crazy woman. Crazy little boys. Crazy Jesus. Crazy big love. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2018

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[1] John 15:12-14, 17 (NRSV)

[2] Mark 10:14b (NRSV)

[3] From an email by Joanne Seiff. Quoted by permission. See Joanne’s work and a link to her blog at joanneseiff.com

Sermon Easter V John 15:1-8 29 April 2018 Year B

            A common mistake for new growers of grape vines is failure to prune the vines enough. It’s a great temptation, when you see all those bare vines you just know are going to give you great bunches of grapes all summer long, to trim away just a little. New gardeners especially can be tentative because it seems cruel to cut off that which will bear something later this year. But will it?

Good thing for us, God, although at times seeming unnecessarily tough with the pruning shears, God never hesitates to cut out the old growth so new growth can bear fruit. It’s only when grape vines are properly pruned that they bear much fruit.

         There’s something to be said for the timing on pruning as well. Midwinter – when the sap is low and all the canes have hardened is the time to get in there and cut everything down. And in the first winter of a new vine, it’s best to prune away almost ninety percent of the growth.

         As a gardener, that kind of pruning is often painful to undertake. We look at the bare vines in Midwinter, so many of them, and we imagine the lush leaves and all the fruit hanging down in a few months. But that vision is a temptation and a lure, not the truth. Pruning is the only way to make new growth that bears fruit. New growth is the only way to make a grape vine bear fruit abundantly.

The metaphor of the vine reminds us the Christian life is about more than just our individual lives and our level of comfort. Pruning reminds us the Christian life is communal as well as personal. Vines have a multitude of branches and endings but only one beginning. All branches lead to the same vine. Their connection goes to one point.

         The verdict is still open on whether or not plants feel pain, but to the gardener doing the pruning, even though he or she knows it is for the best, the act of pruning seems painful. It is only when grapevines are pruned properly that they will bear abundantly. It may not be what we like right now, but pruning is inevitable if we want abundant fruit.

         This is the situation we find ourselves in at St. Alban’s. During a transition time it’s easy to look at vines and leave them as is. Or to get out the shears and slash away without any regard to what is being removed, although that’s much less likely in the church. We tend toward tangled vines rather than over pruning. Of necessity at times, pruning happens during a transition. We have, in fact, just done a painful pruning with the rummage sale. The parish has changed, the people have changed, and the resources to conduct the sale are no longer present. Yes, we are exploring other options. But, for the moment, we have pruned the rummage sale. Who knows what abundant fruit may come because we were brave enough to say, “It will be painful, but it is time. Pruning must happen.”

         So if pruning is painful and yet necessary, where does that leave us when we take out the shears? Maybe it is this: we need to remind ourselves we are the vines. Nothing can take from us the good years, the fun years, the connecting with one another as we huffed furniture about, dusted books, sorted kitchenware and hung clothing on hangers. The dissolving into laughter over an item no one could identify but for which everyone tried to come up with a purpose so it could be priced and sold. Sorting and sifting, lugging and laughing, and being at home in this place by connecting with one another.   

         Jesus invites us to stay connected to him in order to bear his fruit. And it is only through that connection that God is able to prune away what needs to go. Each snip of the pruning shears sets us free to see and hear God more clearly and to follow him more nearly.

         Jesus offers us a way to accept the pain of pruning. We have a companion in the pain. Our companion in this pain is the Jesus who is fully human and fully divine. Jesus knows the pain of being human, and of being pruned.

To have this companion in both our pain and our joy it is to make our home with him. “Abide” in me, could just as easily be translated, “Make your home with me,” or “stay with me.” And this is the invitation Jesus offers us: to connect with him and with one another and explore how these connections will inform and change all that we do in Jesus’ name.

Making our home with Jesus means becoming a disciple of Jesus and being deeply committed and connected to him. It means accepting that pruning will happen to us.

You can connect to something other than God. There are lots of other vines that are not the true vine. There are plenty of other things to which we can connect: money, power, health, the pursuit of pleasure and idleness. But that is life away from the vine. And when this happens the branches wither.

Instead, Jesus invites us to make our home with him, to live with him, to be joined with him in life on the vine. Jesus invites us with these words today and every day,

"I am the Real Vine and my Father is the Grape Farmer. He cuts off every branch of me that doesn't bear grapes. And every branch that is grape bearing he prunes back so it will bear even more. You are already pruned back by the message I have spoken. Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way that a branch can't bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine, you can't bear fruit unless you are joined with me. I am the Vine; you are the branches. When you're joined with me and I with you, the relationship is intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated, you can't produce a thing.[1] AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2018

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[1] John 15:1-5 (The Message, paraphrased)