Sunday, August 18, 2013

Sermon on August 18, 2013 at Trinity Cathedral, Little Rock

Good morning. It is a joy to be here at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral; I would like to thank Dean Jensen for allowing me to preach this morning. I bring greetings from your brothers and sisters of St. Margaret’s Church in West Little Rock. They pray for you; I encourage you to pray for them as well.

Cathedrals, such as this, are built to inspire. With monuments dedicated to the saints of old, and the stained glass splashes out blues, and purples, and reds across the dark woods.

One specific way we are inspired is by the love–the generations of families who have worshiped here, and those families who are just beginning their faith journeys. At St. Margaret’s, it’s common to see one of the members seated with their entire extended family on Christmas Eve or Easter Sunday. I am sure something similar happens here at the Cathedral. The family may never step into church, but ironically, church is the very thing that brings them all together.

In our Gospel reading this morning, we don’t hear of the inspirational qualities of the Church, or the Christ-like love in families.

Jesus said “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!”

Now, Jesus, how could you say such a thing?

Jesus then continues “From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided: father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law."

What happened to the sweet, loving families in church? What happened to church being the very thing that brings family together, even those who are un-churched? Why is Jesus preaching against these well-loved family values?

Stanley Houerwas, a nationally recognized professor at Duke Divinity School, often begins his classes by reading a letter from a concerned parent to a government official. The parent is complaining that his once motivated and earnest son has now joined a strange religious group. The group has taken over his life, the parent says. They’ve had him leave behind his old friends, and it has begun to make him reject his own family’s values. Time for the government to step in, the letter says, and do something about this destructive group.

“Well, what’s going on here?” Houerwas asks his students. His students respond saying, “Well, this must be some strange, fundamentalist group.” Houerwas then proceeds to explain to the students that the letter he gave them was made up from a number of letters from third century Roman parents to the government, complaining about what those troubling Christians are doing to their kids.

However unlikely it may seem, early Christianity was all about this kind of anti-family rebellion. This occurred in spite of the Roman Empire regarding the family as the most sacred institution there was. To challenge the family would be to challenge the Imperial Roman authority.

Now, how can this be? Sunday-by-Sunday, as the passionate summer will soon its fade to fall; we have heard readings about unity. For instance, the passages from Galatians discussing a kingdom of God where there is no Jew or Gentile, Slave or Free, and so on. Why is it that Jesus stops us right where we are to tell us that unity is not the case?

At this point in Jesus’ life, he is about to make way to Jerusalem, knowing it will come to the hard wood of the cross. Jesus has some candid explaining to do.

Jesus said, “I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed!”

Baptism is another one of those words that has very different meanings, depending on the denomination, or even more specifically, the individual. Nonetheless, there always seems to be that anxious couple that walks in the church, baby in arms, approaches the priest, and says, “We’d like to have the baby done! When can we do it?”

In today’s passage from Luke, Jesus says not so fast.

Entering the waters of Baptism is far larger than an appeasement to a family-member, a southern social norm, or an easy fix to a guilty conscience. Entering the waters of Baptism is a transition point. Imagine the experience of lifting your head out from the water. Imagine taking that first breath in a world vastly different than the one you were just in. This transitional phenomenon is the basis of the Baptismal experience. It’s a letting go of the old life to enter a new life. It’s a first breath of life in a completely new environment. It’s being a part of a community outside of the water.

A lot of people struggle with the realization that along with the distinct differences between the Baptismal life and the pre-Baptismal life, there is a separation between people. There is a division within God’s human family:

“…father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother…" and so on.

Christ calls us to division: not division of discrimination, entitlement, and hatred, but division of standing out in the world, making a difference: a division where the way things aren’t the way things have to be.

Isn’t that the premise of Christianity? Isn’t that what resurrection is all about? Giving life to the lost?

Jesus is telling us that we are first and foremost called to challenge society today. We are called to think differently, to stand out, and to leave this world unchanged. We are to be those troubling Christians causing a ruckus. We are to be resurrection itself: make things different than they once were before.

On Thanksgiving morning 2010, here in this Cathedral, I heard God speak to me. I remember it specifically: I sat on this side of the Nave, about three-fourths of the way back. As the procession passed me, and the trumpets sounded, something began to stir up in me: an inspiration in the verger ministry. A verger is the person who leads processions and assists clergy with worship.

Later that afternoon, rather than sitting with my family at the table for Thanksgiving lunch, I decided to eat quickly so I could go to my computer upstairs and look into this “verger” business. Not ten minutes after beginning my research into the verger ministry, I sent off an email, attempting to identify the vergers here at the Cathedral. A week later, I had a training scheduled with Mr. Stanley. My first service at St. Margaret’s was Christmas Eve 2010.

This past May, I saw a picture on Facebook of a specific young person leading a closing procession as a Verger. This caught my attention rather quickly, mainly because I knew the person, and I had several conversations with him about his desire to be a Verger, but it also inspired me.

The Verger ministry is one that is predominantly seen with Adults. Seeing this picture inspired me in that the Youth of this church are beginning to be recognized not only as the future church, but also as the current church. The Youth of this church are bringing life to the lost. They are saying to the whole world, “Just because things are the way they are, it doesn’t mean they are the way they have to be.”

It’s a resurrection story really. It’s about those crazy Christians doing something that’s not supposed to be done. It’s a miracle story–what seems to be impossible, but happens anyway. How do we know this? Back to Scripture:

Jesus calls us to a life of resurrection. He calls us to leap into the waters of baptism, take that first breath after being cleansed, and experiencing a new life–a life where we are divided from the rest of the world. Even in the midst of this human family, we are called to be different, and to stand out, be different, and not tolerate simple acceptance of the present values. We are to die and be born again into a new family.

We are called to inspire, just like this Cathedral Church–inspire others to imagine that what seems impossible can still happen.

We are called to change the world, and it all starts with that first breath out of the water.

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