RCL Proper 21C (Series 2)
25 August 2013
Saint Faith’s Anglican Church
Vancouver BC
Propers: Isaiah 58.9b-14; Psalm 103.1-8; Hebrews
12.18-29; Luke 13.10-17
During the
second half of the nineteenth century and the first quarter of the twentieth a
competitive missionary zeal consumed most of the major western Christian
traditions. Even Anglican competed
against each other, especially the English and the Americans with the Canadians
sneaking in between them from time to time.
One of the
playing fields for this missionary game was Africa. Presbyterians, Methodists and Anglicans had a
particularly fierce campaign for souls in the East African colonies. Scattered throughout the jungles, mountain
highlands and urban areas were the mission stations of these three
predominately British churches.
At one point in
the early twentieth century the Presbyterians and Methodists made a proposal to
the Anglican bishop of Zanzibar. Since
all three churches had a shortage of clergy but many mission stations, the Presbyterians
and Methodists suggested that the prohibition of inter-communion might be
lifted. The idea was that when a
clergyman from one of the three churches was in a given area for communion, all
baptized Christians, regardless of their denomination, would be welcomed to the
Lord’s table.
The Anglican
bishop was adamant in his refusal to cooperate.
He could not, would not, counsel his people to receive communion from a
‘dissenting’ non-episcopally-ordained minister nor could he permit Christians
who had not been confirmed by a bishop to receive at an Anglican Communion
service.
Lest we think
that this situation was limited to our past, let me tell you then when I was
first appointed to the Doctrine and Worship Committee of the General Synod for
a three-year term in 1989, one of the first questions we dealt with was a
similar question. Even though the
Anglican Church of Canada had lifted the prohibition on unconfirmed Christians
receiving communion about fifteen years earlier, one of our bishops had discovered
that his diocesan chancellor had never been confirmed, contrary to the
requirements of the diocesan canons. The
gentleman in question had been raised a Baptist, been baptized at twelve or
thirteen and had married an Anglican in his twenties. Now in his fifties, he had spent thirty years
worshipping as an Anglican, receiving communion, serving as a member of church
committee, as a warden, as a member of diocesan synod and, finally, as
chancellor of the diocese --- but never confirmed. All of his children had been baptized and
confirmed in the Anglican Church and he had consistently affirmed his faith in
this context. So, the bishop asked us,
what do I do? Dismiss my chancellor?
I’ll spare you
any further details about our discussions, but I will tell you that it was the
unanimous opinion of the Committee that there was no need to dismiss the
chancellor. He had more than
sufficiently demonstrated his commitment to live out his baptismal covenant,
the key promise made in confirmation, and had faithfully served in every way
conceivable as an Anglican.
At the heart of
the East African controversy of the early twentieth century as well as the
question the Doctrine and Worship Committee faced in the late twentieth century
is at the centre of today’s reading from the gospel according to Luke. It is a problem that faces every religious
tradition as it navigates the turbulent and tricky waters between being a
movement of the Spirit and becoming an institution of society.
You see, every
religious tradition begins as a revelation, an insight, to an individual or to
a small group of people. That
revelation, that insight, empowers the first generation of believers to do
extraordinary things: Abraham and Sarah
strike off in search of a new land; Moses and the Hebrew slaves escape from
Egypt in search of a new land; the disciples of Jesus endure the loss of their
teacher to become a movement which transforms the Roman empire.
But movements
either evaporate or, over time, transforms themselves into institutions with
traditions, structures and laws. These
are not necessarily bad or ill-intentioned, but the danger is that the initial
revelation, the original insight, can be submerged under the layers of
tradition, structure and law. Religious
leaders begin to defend the institution rather than inspire other believers
with the light that first gave rise to the movement.
The Jewish
leader in today’s gospel was not nor should he ever be portrayed as a bad
man. The tradition of the Sabbath he was
upholding was one that gave his people an identity and a mission. It maintained the integrity of the Jewish
people in the face of Roman oppression.
He knew what was expected of him but he had forgotten why it was
expected of him.
The Sabbath was
and is about freedom, the freedom to rest and to enjoy the bounty of God
without the cares and burden of labour.
It is a custom that I try to observe on my day off. As soon as I arrive home on Thursday evening,
I take off my watch and do not put it back on again until necessary. I might not shave. I read what I want to read and I try to avoid
answering e-mails that involve work-related matters. But if the telephone summons me to a pastoral
need, then the Sabbath ends.
Jesus heals a
woman who has suffered many years from a debilitating condition. He heals her on the Sabbath and liberates her
from the bonds of her condition. Surely,
he says to the Jewish leader and to all who are present, freeing a woman from
this burden of pain and disability is faithful to the gift and to the
obligations of the Sabbath.
We who gather
in this place to remember and to celebrate all that God has done, is doing and
will do face the same challenge as our Jewish brother described in today’s
gospel reading. We are members of an
institution that has lost its place of power and prestige in today’s society. Being a religious believer of any sort is not
what it used to be; some people even dare to say that we are dangerous to world
peace and development.
In the face of
this situation we can turn inward and protect the institution. But that is not a solution. What we need to do is to rediscover that
initial revelation, that original insight, that empowered the earliest followers
of Jesus and, dare I say, has empowered members of our religious community,
here and abroad, for centuries. I will
even dare to say that I believe that we began that journey of rediscovery at
Saint Faith’s some years ago, a journey that can be described in three words: help, hope and home.
We have been
and continue to be a place of help to those who are in any need or
trouble. Sometimes our help is offered
through our worship as we proclaim the Scriptures and as we share the bread and
wine. Oft times our help is offered
through our care for the hungry, the homeless or inadequately-housed and those
who struggle to gain access to the social and public services they need and to
which they are entitled.
We have been
and continue to be a place of hope, not only to those we help, but to those who
are seeking to understand what God has done, is doing and will do for us and
for all of creation. When women were
first ordained to the priesthood in the Anglican Church of Canada, this Parish
welcomed their ministry. When our Church
established a reconciliation fund, this Parish gave more than it was
asked. People suffering from addiction
gather here and find healing and support.
Practitioners of healing touch gather here to learn and practice their
art. Children come to play and to learn
how to become fully alive as God’s beloved.
We have been
and continue to be a place of home. Not
so long ago I mentioned a study commissioned by the Vancouver Foundation which
identified loneliness as the primary affliction of many residents of Metro
Vancouver, rich and poor, men and women, long-time and recent residents. We belong to a movement rooted in the ministry
of Jesus who, throughout his ministry, was constantly bringing together those
who were alone or ignored, the so-called ‘good’ and the so-called ‘not so good’. We, too, are called to ‘draw the circle wide’
and to make Saint Faith’s a ‘neighbourhood house’ where all are welcome.
Help, hope and
home. These are just three expressions
of the good news of God in Jesus, three marks of the movement begun so long
ago. May God continue to grant us the
grace to keep sight of this good news.
May God continue to grant us the grace to be that movement of the Spirit
called ‘church’. Amen.
