“In
my beginning is my end (and) in my end is my beginning,”
said T. S. Eliot.
My
very first sermon was the stewardship sermon
right here at St. Michael’s 30 years ago.
As
the sun begins to set on my ordained ministry,
this
is where I need to be.
Thank
you Dean Demarest for inviting me back home.
Thank
you Bishop Thom for giving the ok.
I
want you to know that what this congregation does matters.
It mattered
to me in 1980 when I came here,
looking for some
glimmer of hope in a darkened life.
I
found Jesus here in you.
I first
received received the Blessed Sacrament
kneeling at this altar rail.
St.
Michael’s turned my life around.
I
know this Church matters to many of you in the same way.
It
also matters to all the folks outside these walls
to whom each of us bear the Christ
light in countless ways.
It’s
like collateral damage -- only this is collateral blessing.
Like
the Samaritan in our Gospel lesson
we pass on the grace we have received.
I’ve
gotten that part wrong many times.
I’ve gotten it right a few times.
Let
me tell you about one of those times.
It
may sound like I’m talking about me,
But
it’s really a story about you because
when I’ve gotten it right, it was
thanks to you.
I
was rector of a small church in Macon, Georgia,
when one day some people called me
to come see their dying mother.
She had
never darkened a church door in Macon
and no one had heard of her kids.
So I
had no idea why they wanted me there.
And a
little bit of “these are not our people”
was stirring in me too.
But
when I arrived, they explained
Mamma had been the pillar of her church
40 miles up the road.
She
was head of the altar guild, first woman on the vestry, etc. etc.
She dearly
loved that church.
But when
she and Daddy got divorced,
the priest kicked her out -- literally excommunicated her.
Mamma
had not been to church for 30 years.
She
was bitter.
Now
she lay dying.
Medically,
by all rights, she should have died days ago
but she just couldn’t let go.
The
kids figured something was unresolved.
So I
went in to see her
but instead of inviting her to confess
her sins,
I confessed the sin of the church
against her
and begged her forgiveness.
She
wept and forgave us, then died peacefully the next day.
You
sent me to do that.
Whatever
Christianity I could draw on in that moment
had its roots right here at St.
Michael’s Cathedral.
What
you do mattered to that old lady in Georgia
and it matters to people in Boise
whose lives are touched everyday by Episcopalians
who’ve found their faith in this place.
The
most liberating kind of faith I learned at St. Michael’s
was the freedom the Samaritan had,
the freedom we get from giving stuff away.
It
was here I learned that what I had wasn’t really mine.
I
didn’t possess my stuff. My stuff possessed me.
I
learned that all I had was God’s free gift
and I could give it back -- trusting God
to provide for me as he’d
always done.
I
learned that to live we have to breathe.
To
breathe in all the way, we have to breathe out all the way.
We
have to give in order to receive.
The
more we open our hands to God’s mission
the more we open our hearts to receive
the blessings
God wants to give us.
It
isn’t magic. It isn’t buying a blessing.
It’s
just opening our hands to open our hearts
to receive the blessings God already longs to give.
St.
Michael’s taught me that,
so I’m back here to say thank you,
thank you, thank you
for making my life so much richer.
Mohandas
Gandhi said, “The best way to find yourself
is to lose yourself in the service of
others.”
Just
so, the best investment of our money is in the service of others.
Jesus
said – now listen up –
this isn’t some jackleg bishop from Sin City talking --
Jesus
said this:
“Do not store up for
yourselves treasure on earth
where the moth corrupts and the thief
breaks in to steal.
Rather, store up for yourselves treasure in heaven,
where the moth does not corrupt and the
thief does not
break in to steal.
For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”
But
St. Augustine replied, “Ok but where is this heaven?
Is it in the sky? No,” Augustine said,
“Heaven is in each other.”
Store
up your treasure in each other.
Heaven
isn’t some cloud we float on when we die.
It’s
a network of compassionate generous relationship.
Yes
it’s a safety net that catches us when we die,
but we can live in that network right
now.
Heaven
is life in God’s mission.
God
has entrusted St. Michael’s with three parts of that mission.
First,
as a congregation, you extend God’s love to one another
as you shared it with our family back in the 80s.
As the
Cathedral, you have two other missions.
You
have a mission to Boise.
This
city has grown and changed beyond anything
I could have imagined when I left.
Boise
today needs a community engaged Cathedral
to be its spiritual heart,
showing everyone of any faith or no
faith
some Christ light that is open-minded
and generous of spirit.
The
Falwells, Robertsons, and Franklin Grahams
have branded Christianity as a hateful bigoted cult
that young people, bright people,
and good-hearted Idahoans won’t touch
with a 10-foot pole.
Those
good people are cut off from Christ,
and good people need Jesus too.
Your
mission is to show Jesus to Boise as he is
-- not as others have slandered him.
Third,
as the Cathedral, you have a mission to other churches
in this diocese – a mission to help
them out
with resources small congregations
can’t generate from their own ranks.
That’s
what it means to be a Cathedral.
A
Cathedral is a resource church for a whole diocese.
There
is no lovelier state than Idaho.
But
it gets lonely out there and small towns are struggling.
They
need help and you have it to give.
Those
three missions take money – the money
our culture has brainwashed us to think
is ours.
But it’s
God’s money entrusted to us for God’s mission.
Brothers
and sisters, you have blessed many lives.
You
have blessed my life richly.
But
God has given you the ability to do so much more.
God
has given you the ability to do things
that will make Boise sit up and take
notice –
that will make Idaho sit up and take
notice.
God
longs to do a new thing here -- to flower in a new way.
a bigger, brighter,
altogether better way.
But
God won’t do it without you.
God
loves you too much for that.
God
loves you too much to leave you out
of this adventure.
God
invites you to open your hands and your hearts
to this mission -- not just for the
sake of all those
who have been alienated from the faith
by bigots,
not just for the sake of struggling
congregations,
but for your own sakes.
God
wants you to know the freedom and the richness
of placing your treasure and
your heart
in this living breathing network
of human relationships that
Jesus called heaven itself.
