Entertaining Angels Unawares: Reflections on the Feast of Michael and All Angels

Feast of Michael and All Angels

29 September 2024

Anglican Church of the Epiphany

Surrey BC

 

         When I was in Grade 9, I worked after school for my mother’s daycare centre.  Since her centre was not that far from my school, I used to walk to from school to the centre along a busy street.  During my walk I could think about the day that had past, about my homework and about life in general.

 

         One day, as I was walking, I heard a faint voice calling out, “Richard!  Richard!”  I looked around but could see no one.  The voice called out a second time, this time a little louder, “Richard!  Richard!”  Once again I looked around but could see no one.  I even looked up into the sky and wondered whether some celestial being was calling to me, but the sky was empty.  I kept walking.  The day had heated up a little and walking was not as pleasant as it might have been.

 

         Suddenly the voice shouted right next to me, “Richard!  Are you deaf or are you ignoring me?”  And there, at the side of the road, was Jim, a friend from school, leaning out of the open window of his mother’s car.  “I’ve been calling you for the last five minutes,” Jim said, “Do you want a ride or not?”  I decided to take the divine hint and got in the car.

 

         Sometimes we forget that God’s messengers come to us in unexpectedly.  The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews reminds his readers of Abraham and Sarah to whom three angels appeared in the guise of travellers:  “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” (Hebrews 13.2 NRSVue)  They are unexpected because they do not appear to us in flames of fire and with wings of light.  They come to us in the persons of family and friends, co-workers and even strangers on the street who speak a word to us that we needed to hear.

 

         When I was in seminary, one of my professors, Jim Griffiss, used to call on me in class by saying, “Dr Leggett, do you have something to add?”  I was afraid that he was making fun of me, so I asked him once why he did so.  He answered, “Because you are called to be a teacher and I expect you will eventually earn your doctorate.”  At the time my goal was to be a parish priest, but Jim was right.  He spoke a word to me even before my own heart and mind had turned to consider such a future.

 

         We miss these angels who come to us unknown, because we have forgotten that the word ‘angel’ simply means ‘messenger’.  To be sure, most of the angels we encounter in the Scriptures are awe-inspiring, even frightening beings who are sent from God to warn, to encourage and to judge.  But angels are also those persons who speak the truth to us when we are not ready to hear it.  They are the voices that sometimes speak words of hope to us when we are struggling to see a way forward in our lives.

 

         We had two such angels come to the Church of the Epiphany on Tuesday evening.  Their names are Annelise and Sydney and they are members of Purpose Driven Developments, our diocesan real estate consultants.  I say that Annelise and Sydney are angels because they are messengers of hope after the disappointment of the last couple of years.

 

         Much of what they shared with us on Tuesday I cannot yet share with you.  We still have many questions to ask, options to explore and paths forward to discern, so it would not be helpful to lay those out before you now.  But what I can say is this:  We are beginning to see a path forward for us that offers a way for us to serve this neighbourhood and to strengthen the many years of ministry our Parish has undertaken here.  It is a sustainable path that will honour our past, increase our vitality and make the best use of our strategic location in Guildford.

 

         Over the coming months we hope to be able to share more with all of you.  But, as the prophet Habakkuk says, “For there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie.  If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay.” (Habakkuk 2.3 NRSVue)  Our task, as we await for this vision to be realized, is to remain faithful in the work God has given us to do in this time and place.  We will continue to pave the way for our new Rector by taking care of our neighbourhood, by caring for our families and children, by proclaiming the good news of God in Christ through Word and Sacrament.

 

         In the meantime, let’s keep our eyes and our ears and our hearts open.  There will be other angels, perhaps even ones who will help us, like they did for Jacob, to see that we are on holy ground where God brings help, hope and home.  For surely, my friends, this is a house for God, a place where God’s glory shines.

 

Who Is the Greatest?

RCL Proper 25B

22 September 2024

 

Anglican Church of the Epiphany

Surrey BC

 

         When I began Grade 7, I was put into a specialized stream in the Colorado Springs Schools called HATS – ‘highly academically-talented students’.  I remained in that stream until I graduated from high school in 1971.  Despite the passage of the years, I remember how my teachers sought to instill in us a morality of obligation.  

 

         On one occasion there was an unfortunate incident between some HATS students and some ‘regular’ students.  Words were exchanged which were hurtful to the ‘regular’ students and there was a bit of pushing and shoving.  Within an hour of the incident, Mr Comer, our social studies teacher, called all the HATS students into a special town hall.  He was furious with how we had behaved and reminded us of the principle that ‘of those to whom much has been given, much is expected’.  Long before I began to think about ordained ministry, Mr Comer set the standard – Leaders have an obligation to serve those among whom they work and live.

 

         He also reminded us that we live in an interwoven world.  Every human being has gifts that enrich the common good.  No one person has all the gifts.  No one person is independent.  We are all inter-dependent upon one another.  To ignore or devalue the gifts and dignity of any person was a moral failure.

 

         Mr Comer lived what he taught.  He was a founder of the Colorado Springs Teacher Association and was elected to the Colorado State Senate.  One of his colleagues wrote that Senator Comer did not speak often, but, when he did, senators on both sides of the aisle listened carefully.

 

         Throughout all of today’s readings from the Scriptures there is a persistent theme of the centrality of servanthood.

 

·      In Proverbs we are presented with the image of a wife and mother and household manager who is the foundation for the well-being and success of her family.  She uses her talents, her time and her treasure to achieve the best for all who rely upon her for their food, their shelter and their stability.

·      The writer of the Letter of James is a bit like Mr Comer.  He’s fed up with the irresponsible behaviour of the community and for their vanity and their striving for self-gain.

·      And then we hear Jesus chastising his disciples for their fascination with the question of who is the greatest amongst them – an interesting conversation to be had among a group of people who are, to be honest, not a particularly distinguished group of people.

 

         In the Gospel Jesus says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” (Mark 9.35b NRSVue)  The writer of the Gospel uses a very specific word.  We are to be ‘deacons’ of all.  In the time of the New Testament there were many words used for those who served others – errand boy, slave, hired hand, household staff.  But to be called a ‘deacon’ meant something very specific.

 

         A deacon is an agent of the person to whom they are responsible.  A deacon is someone who makes things happen for the good of their employer.  A deacon takes the initiative to make sure that the best interests of those who have chosen them are made to happen.  A deacon does not serve themselves; their vision is outward-looking and community-oriented.

 

         What Mr Comer might have said to my colleagues and me is that we were called to be ‘deacons’ for the good of the whole community.  Our time, our talents and our treasure were to be directed outward to enable and to nurture the common good.  Who was the greatest was an irrelevant and pointless question.

 

         As we continue our journey towards the renewal of our Parish and towards the selection of a new Rector, today’s readings remind us of the fundamental attitude we bring to this quest.  We come as people who yearn to be ‘servants of all’.  Our worship strengthens us to discern how we might best serve our neighbours – those who worship here, those who do not, those who do not even know that we exist.  Our discussions about the future of our property need to arise from our commitment to serve this neighbourhood.  Our discernment of a new Rector is guided by a desire to have someone who is a ‘servant-leader’ of this Parish.

 

         Today I invite you to remember the Mr Comers in your lives, the people who have shown you that true freedom, true greatness, lies in the service of God and of the world that God has created.  Remember them.  More importantly, let us imitate them and work towards that world God invites us to imagine and to shape.

Send in the Clowns: Reflections on 1 Corinthians 1.18-25

 

Holy Cross Day

15 September 2024

 

Anglican Church of the Epiphany

Surrey BC

 

            When I was growing up, I had little experience with clowns.  I went to a few circuses and there were clowns chasing each other around.  I went to a few parades and there were clowns throwing candy to the people along the street.  I went to rodeos and there were clowns whose job was to distract the bucking horses and bulls so that the cowboys they had thrown off could get to safety.  But my encounters with clowns were always from a distance.

 

            This all changed when I became a curate at Christ Episcopal Church in Denver, Colorado.  Paula and I became active adult leaders in a diocesan youth program called ‘Happening’, something like Cursillo for young people.  Among the other adult leaders was a young man who was also a clown.  His clown name was Clarence Job and he was a silent clown, a mime.  Clarence Job understood clowning to be a form of Christian ministry.  Let me tell you why.

 

            Throughout human history clowns have had a variety of roles in society.  Clowns entertain people by their physical comedy, their slap-stick antics and their magic.  But clowns also have a serious role.  Clowns have often been critics of the world as it is.  You may be familiar with the term ‘court jester’.  Court jesters served both to entertain the rich and the powerful, but they also had the dangerous work of making fun of the rich and the powerful.  Clowning has always been a socially-acceptable way to publicly ridicule those who think of themselves as superior to the rest of humanity.  Clowns turn the world upside down.  So sometimes, in order to bring balance to a world going or gone bad, we bring in the clowns.

 

            Today we are keeping the Feast of the Holy Cross.  It is thought that on this day, more than sixteen hundred years ago, the Empress Helena, the mother of the Emperor Constantine the Great, was present when pieces of the cross on which Jesus was crucified were found in Jerusalem.  As an act of thanksgiving, Helena and Constantine built a massive church in the centre of Jerusalem, a church that enclosed a vast amount of space.  Today only the Church of the Holy Sepulchre remains of this once vast church.  But time cannot blur our focus on what the Cross means for us.

 

            Paul writes, “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being save it is the power of God . . . . For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1.18, 25 NRSVue)

 

            Our belief that in the death of Jesus, a Jewish rabbi from a small town far away from any centre of political and cultural power, the world is turned upside down is considered by the vast majority of people as foolishness.  “Throughout the New Testament . . . we discover that God acts like a clown, that the Lord of the Universe acts like a fool.  Unreasonable.  Not responsible.  Not sensible.  Not practical but downright foolish.” [1]

 

·      In order to get our attention God comes to us in the person of Jesus who ends up suffering as we suffer.

·      Jesus is not the child of the rich and powerful but of a carpenter and a young woman in a poor country.

·      Jesus is not born into a palace but in a barn.

·      Jesus teaches us to love our enemies as well as our friends.

·      Jesus teaches us to love the stranger as much as we love our family.

·      Jesus chooses as his disciples a motley crew of illiterate fisherfolk, tax-collectors and political subversives.

·      Jesus teaches us that everything we have is a gift, a pure gift, from a generous God who is not as concerned about our worthiness as we are. [2]

            I do not need to convince any of you who are here today that our world is not the upside-down world that God in Jesus is proclaiming.  In our world, the common wisdom is that 

 

·      strength is better than weakness,

·      effectiveness is better than ineffectiveness,

·      might makes right and

·      nice guys finish last. [3]

 

            But in the Cross of Jesus we see what C. S. Lewis, the twentieth-century Christian writer, called ‘the deep magic of the universe’. [4]  Those who live their lives according to the principle that ‘might makes right’ and that ‘the one with most toys at the end wins’ are actually ‘perishing’, to use Paul’s words.  Their lives are ‘falling apart’ and the tragedy is that they either do not know this or that they know this but are afraid to change.

 

            On the other hand, the ‘deep magic’ of the Cross works differently for those whom Paul says are being ‘saved’.  Those who have fallen in love with the ‘deep magic’ of the good news of God in Jesus are actually ‘putting their lives together’.  We know that the world as it is does not work for any of us.  We have been touched by God’s wisdom, a wisdom that teaches us that “ . . . God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honour to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another.  If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honoured, all rejoice together with it.” (I Corinthians 12.24a-26)

 

            When I remember the Cross, I remember that God is not afraid to be a clown and to turn my world upside-down.  When I remember the Cross, I remember that Christ comes amongst us like a clown and challenges all our norms.  When I remember the Cross, I remember that the Holy Spirit dwells within each one of us and makes us clowns for God.

            The Russian iconographer Andrei Rublev created an icon of the Holy Trinity which is treasured throughout the world.  Around a round table sit the three angels who visited Abraham and Sarah.  The three angels are identical and they extend their hands towards the table.  On the table there is chalice in the centre.  Bishop Brian Cole writes that " . . . no one is grasping for control or power, but offering each other expressions of grace, mercy, love and service to each other.  Here is our power.  Here is our wisdom."

 

            So, my friends, let us give thanks that God has sent in the clowns.  May we be fools for Christ who dare to say that true wisdom is found in making room for others, that true greatness is found in washing the feet of others, that true wealth is found in loving others as Christ has loved us.

---

[1] Edward F. Marquart, ‘Here comes the Clowns!’ at www.sermonsfromseattle.com/series_a_here_come_the_clowns.htm accessed on 12 September 2024.

 

[2] Marquart 2024.

 

[3] Scott Hoezee at http://cepreaching.org/commentary/2018-02-26/1-corinthians-118-25-2 accessed on 12 September 2024.

 

[4] Hoezee 2024.

 

Be Careful How You Look at the World: Reflections on Mark 7.24-37

 

 

RCL Proper 23B

8 September 2024

 

Anglican Church of the Epiphany

Surrey BC

 

            One of the privileges I had as a member of the faculty of Vancouver School of Theology was becoming a colleague of Sallie McFague.  Sallie was a theologian of breadth, of wisdom and of clarity.  She was a pioneer in applying theological insights to the environmental crisis we face as well as a perceptive observer of how Christians can lose sight of the sacredness of the world in which we live.

 

            One of her frequent sayings was this:  “Be careful how you look at the world because that’s the way it is.”  If we look at the world as a place where the rich and the powerful have unlimited control over us, then we are likely to live into that expectation.  If we only listen to the voices that agree with us, then we are likely not to hear the voices of those experiences and wisdom might actually enrich our understanding of the world.

 

            When the Syro-Phoenician woman approaches Jesus, he only sees a foreign woman who is not a member of the people of Israel.  She is not among those to whom Jesus feels called to minister.  She has crossed the boundary of proper first-century Mediterranean etiquette by daring to speak to a Jewish teacher, to the rising star from Nazareth.  

 

            Her request is not an unusual one.  It’s a request that Jesus has heard more than once over the months of his ministry.  It’s not a request beyond his ability to act.  What offends him is the identity of the person who is asking for his compassion, for him to extend God’s healing beyond the boundaries of Israel.

 

            We have to acknowledge that what Jesus says to her is not a joke but an insult.  What he says to her is not a test of her faith but an attempt to put her in her place.  What he says to her says that she’s not a member of the ‘in-group’ but an unwelcome outsider.  In his eyes she and the rest of her community have no part in the mission he has undertaken.

 

            After such an insult most of us would have turned away in disappointment.  But not this woman.  She is having none of Jesus’ snobbery and narrow-mindedness.  She has as much a legitimate call upon his healing power as any Israelite.  The world that she sees is wider and more inclusive than the one that Jesus sees.  

 

            More importantly, she is willing to take the risk of ridicule and scandal too make that world happen.  Jesus may think that he’s very clever in comparing her to a dog, but he has met his match in this mother of a daughter in need.  She sees more clearly than Jesus does that God’s saving work extends far beyond the limits of a small Jewish enclave surrounded by peoples of many nations, many languages and many needs.  She sees the kingdom of God and she expects it to include her.

 

            At this moment in time, our Parish is looking at the world around us.  This world is shaped by the history of ministry in this place over the last fifty years and more.  It is a world that has seen moments of great hopefulness and moments of disappointments.  We have seen changes not only in the neighbourhood that surrounds us but in the people who gather in this place to hear the Word of God, to lift up our voices in prayer and to receive the bread and wine of the eucharist.

 

            Now we look to the future.  We’ve taken the first steps towards the re-development of our property, but we cannot see the entirety of the path that lies before us.  We’ve begun to craft the story we wish to tell in order to aid in calling a new rector.

 

            In the midst of all this, I still hear Sallie McFague’s voice.  How are we looking at the world around us?  Are we companions of the Syro-Phoenician woman who saw the kingdom of God opening wide before her – despite the narrower vision expressed by Jesus?  Can we be bold in challenging the limits of our fears with a vision of a renewed community rising up to be the body of Christ in this neighbourhood?

 

            Yes, I believe we can.  It hasn’t been easy thus far and it may not be easy in the months ahead. But we have another world in view and it’s one that worth the risks.