Sermon at The Church of
the Holy Apostles, New York City
January 27, 2008,
The Third Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A
The
Reverend Elizabeth G. Maxwell, Associate
Rector
Isaiah 9:1-4
Psalm 27
1 Corinthians 1:10-18
Matthew 4:12-23
Jesus calls us!
By thy mercies, Savior,
may we hear thy call,
give our hearts to thine obedience,
serve and love thee best of all,
serve and love thee best of all.
This morning’s gospel tells of the
beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. He emerges from the
wilderness, where he has wrestled with the meaning of his
profound baptismal experience, confronted temptation, and
grasped something of what his call is all about. Coming from
the wilderness, he learns that John the Baptist has been
arrested. He withdraws, for it is not yet time to confront
the powers that be, and he leaves his home in Nazareth and
goes to Capernaum by the sea, to Galilee.
Geography is important for Matthew’s
understanding of Jesus, so we note that Galilee, while perhaps
not literally “of the Gentiles,” is inhabited by people who
were viewed as, well¼less
than really up to snuff by the religious leaders in
Jerusalem. They’re considered heretics at worst, and bumpkins
at best. Galilee is the sticks: it’s far from the centers of
power and sophistication and privilege. You may remember that
on that first Easter morning, the angel will say to the
wondering women, “He is not here; He is risen! He is going
before you to Galilee, that’s were you’ll see him.”
And so the story of Jesus’ ministry
begins as it will conclude, among the most unlikely people –
the poor, the outcast, those of no real importance- in
Galilee. And so it is, Matthew quotes Isaiah: “The people who
sat in darkness have seen a great light.” Despite John’s
arrest, Jesus moves forward, and the light that he bears in
his person and proclaims in his words moves forward with him,
dawning, growing, spreading.
He begins to proclaim a message, at first
very much like the Baptist’s: “Repent! For the Kingdom of
Heaven has come near.” But repentance in this sense is not a
narrow focus on particular sins. It is rather, in its literal
meaning, metanoia, turning¼turning
one’s whole life around, opening up to the light of God’s
love, to the reality of God’s presence. And in that
illumination, going in a whole new direction, one previously
unimagined.
It has always been very tender to me,
reading this story, that the first thing that Jesus does is
call people to be with him. They will be his community, his
friends, his intimate companions for the next three years, for
the rest of his life and all of his ministry. It’s always
seemed likely to me that Jesus needed that companionship just
as we do, and also that he knew that God’s realm is
experienced in human relationships. We come to know the
divine mystery, as it were, with “skin on,” as we work it all
out together. They are an unlikely group, these
holy-apostles-to-be: Andrew and Peter, James and John. They
are Galilean fishermen, working people, plain-spoken and
thick-headed. It really seems that their only apparent
qualification for sharing in Jesus’ great work is their
willingness to say “Yes.”
But sometimes, the willingness to say
“Yes” is the most important thing.
I notice how Jesus calls them away from
the only lives they have ever known as fishermen, and also how
he uses the familiar imagery of that life: “From now on, you
will be fishing for people.” As we are, these first disciples
are both fishers and they are fish. They are partners in
Jesus’ work and they are in need of God’s grace.
As I was pondering this sermon, I came
upon a haiku that gives voice to the perspective of one fish,
expressing what we may feel in difficult times:
Worthless,
bottom feed
Is someone
looking for me?
Please don’t
throw me back!
These first disciples are caught by
Jesus’ invitation. They recognize something compelling,
necessary, longed-for or perhaps unacknowledged, deep in their
hearts. Matthew says they came immediately. The lesson from
John that we heard last week tells the story a little
differently. He says that there were a number of
conversations, a gradual getting to know Jesus, a dawning
realization that this was their destiny. But whether it is a
gradual discovery or a sudden decision, the moment comes.
They leave their nets and their families and they follow Jesus
into a new life. They have no idea what it will all mean, but
Jesus is there, and they are going with him.
How do we hear God’s call? Is it through
that still small voice within? Dreams? Visions? In the
witness of other people inviting us to do and be what we had
not imagined we could do and be? Sometimes call is
experienced in compelling work that simply needs to be done,
or a need that we know we have to meet. Sometimes doors open;
sometimes doors close. Often, call is heard in our heart’s
longing or in the thing that gives us our deepest joy.
However it is, Jesus calls us. He calls us, each one and all
together to share his mission of light and of love, and to
grow into a deeper companionship with him. He says, “Come,
follow me.”
These themes of transition and call and
mission are particularly timely, this Annual Meeting Sunday,
as we reflect on the year just past and ponder where it is
that God is leading us in the year ahead. Most obviously, of
course, we face a transition because of Father Bill’s coming
retirement. It is an occasion to take a long look at the
mission we have had at Holy Apostles and to discern the
promptings of the Spirit calling us into new life and work.
Of that, more in a moment.
But first, some words about where we have
been in 2007. As I reflect on the year just past, I remember
first of all that it has marked the 25th
anniversary of the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen, observed on
October 22nd. We have said “observed” and not
“celebrated.” This really has been remarkable work for 25
years, a remarkable witness- a short term emergency program
that over the years has become an institution in the city of
New York, that has served well over 6 million meals, that has
welcomed God’s hungry children every weekday of the year into
this very space. The anniversary was bittersweet. It is
indeed a shame and a scandal that we are still called on to do
this work. Soup kitchens are not the solution to the problem
of hunger, but they are necessary. The work of Holy Apostles
is necessary, even as in this season of endless election
campaigning, no real strategies to address hunger and poverty
seem to be a part of the national debate. In this 25th
anniversary year, we served 303,633 meals, the largest of any
year in our history, averaging 1,163 every day.
The need, especially in this faltering
economy, is clearly unabated, but also we face seriously
daunting financial challenges to keep this work sound, to keep
feeding those who come to us. We will need new strategies in
the months ahead to raise the money that the program
requires. And yet, I am touched also by the incredible
faithfulness that has kept the soup kitchen going for 25
years. The faithfulness of our staff, day in and day out, of
our volunteers, of those who have supported us, the
faithfulness of parish members, serving in all the ways that
you do, believing in and praying for the program, the guests,
who are themselves, mysteriously, a daily testament to God’s
grace. Even in these profoundly uncertain times, I am struck
most of all with profound gratitude for Holy Apostles Soup
Kitchen, and for this parish’s immense mission, gratitude most
of all for those who said “yes” 25 years ago and continue to
say yes to God’s call.
In reflecting on the year that’s passed,
of course I remember also with gratitude the witness that Holy
Apostles continues to make to full inclusion in the church. I
believe that as bumpy as it has been, as challenging as it has
been, as difficult as our relationships with our bishops has
been, we are making a difference, we are having an impact.
And the full inclusion of gays and lesbians is coming in the
Episcopal Church, more slowly than we would like, but it is
coming.
Most of all, as I think on the year past,
I am grateful for the web of relationships in which we, like
the first disciples, come to know and follow Christ. For all
that is done by so many to sustain our life together and our
witness to the world. I think of our MCs and our acolytes, of
the thriving ministry we now have for children and the advent
of little kids’ church, of the hospitality guild and ushers
and sacristans, of the ‘Knitters Indeed’ under Chad’s
leadership, of the gardeners making our outdoor space so
beautiful, of how often I have come across Jane Greenlaw with
her beloved plants. I think of our adult education work and
our retreats, of our fledgling attempts to green our lives in
response to the ecological crisis. I think of David and our
wonderful choir, making music to the Lord, and of all the
times that we sit around and tell stories and laugh and listen
to one another and cry together, and thus grow more fully into
Christ.
I think of our staff: of Janet Gracey,
quietly holding the fabric of things together; of Neville
Hughes and his work to raise the money that the soup kitchen
needs, of our office staff, of Ed Kamper’s faithfulness to us
here, of our HASK crew and Noel, our sexton, and my wonderful
clergy colleagues, all so faithful. The vestry always gives a
tremendous amount of time and thought and care to the
leadership of this parish, and they are called on to give even
more in this time of transition. Those who are retiring this
year have served faithfully and well: Denise Hibay, Chad
Rancourt, Betsy Farren, Larry Gifford¼thank
you. And our Wardens: Richard Longinetti and Muriel Moore.
They have stepped into a whole new level of responsibility in
this time; they will be the ecclesiastical authority in the
months between rectors, and they have done it with diligence
and grace and deep devotion. They are working incredibly hard
and we don’t always see it. To you, we bow in gratitude.
This Annual Meeting is a momentous one:
we will elect the vestry who will provide us with leadership
as we move into new and uncharted territory and who will,
after the search committee has done all its work, (and we
thank you all in advance, and especially you, Michael Gilligan
as its Chair)- after they have done their work, this vestry
will choose a new rector for us here at Holy Apostles. We are
blessed with many candidates, an abundance of gifts, in the
people who have offered themselves for this labor. So this is
a time when we must discern whose gifts are the right ones.
It is a time for prayer, and the year to come invites all of
us to the work of listening, to hearing how we are called to
be stewards of all that this parish has been, and to
discerning what God’s new call to mission and ministry may
be. And in the midst of that, to caring for one another and
the precious life of this community.
And of course, for the first half of the
coming year, Bill will still be with us as our Rector. You
have been here for 23 years, and what an amazing legacy you
are leaving. I speak of course in part of the Soup Kitchen
program, known throughout the country and the world as a daily
miracle and as a sign of grace. But even more, I think your
legacy is the integrated vision of a parish coming alive in
mission, of offering our best to God in worship and our very
best in service to our hungry and homeless neighbors in need.
I see your legacy in the sense of hospitality, in
inclusiveness, in the willingness to seek and challenge
authority– all the while enjoying the very best of Anglican
liturgy and music, with a “twinkle in our eye!” I see it as
the living of a eucharistic life, understanding that the bread
that is broken and shared at this altar and the food that we
share with all who come to us during the week are one.
Very personally, I could not let this
moment pass, Bill, without thanking you for your generosity as a
colleague, your care for me, and your partnership in ministry
all these years. It is hard to imagine Holy Apostles without
you. One of the tasks for all of us in the next six months will
be to celebrate Bill, and to say goodbye. We will have many
chances to do that, both corporately and individually; I urge
you all to take them. Our work includes asking and offering
forgiveness, if that is needed, but much more it involves saying
“thank you,” saying “we love you,” saying “Godspeed.”
Dear people of Holy Apostles, in this time
of transition, perhaps the most important thing remains the
willingness to say “Yes.” To say yes to the work of discernment
and to the continuing call to bear God’s light, to be God’s
light, here on the corner of 9th Avenue and 28th
Street. Let us listen for Jesus calling us, each and all:
“Come, follow me.” We do not know what it will mean, anymore
than those first disciples did, but Jesus is here, and we are
going with him.
I am deeply, deeply grateful for this
community, in which I have learned so much about saying yes, and
in which I continue to come to know God, “with skin on.” I
thank you for the chance to serve among and with you. May God
continue to bless us all.
Amen.
