Proper 11 2015

Proper 11, 2015

In my first year of seminary, a friend recounted a conversation in which a man asked him, “Where is Virginia Seminary?” The question was simple enough, but my friend Matthew Cowden (who was a senior at VTS at the time) was a little surprised. After all, of the multiplicity of historic sites throughout Alexandria, Virginia; Virginia Seminary happened to be seated on Seminary Road (which was named because of the seminary). The seminary has been in existence since 1823, and has been for the greater part of its time exactly where it is presently, having taken only a short hiatus during the Civil War.

Being that Matthew was a seminarian, he was of course possessed with all sincerity and full of patience and compassion. So, even though he knew the man was from the area, he began to explain where the seminary was relative to certain shopping centers and other land marks.

But the man laughed, and said he knew where the seminary was located… What he meant was, he knew that the seminary had taken pride in the fact that there were abolitionists who came out Virginia Seminary—even seminarians who fought in the Civil War. He said he had lived in the area all his life and remembered in the 1960s, that there were seminarians who were active in the Civil Rights Movement, and carried banners and marched as representatives from the seminary; and there were even seminarians who demonstrated against the war in Vietnam. He said, “It was good to see that the Church not only cared about this stuff, but seemed to showing up.” He said, “So, my question is, where is Virginia Seminary these days?”

I first heard this story when this student I mentioned, Matthew Cowden was preparing a sermon for chapel. He said that the conversation put him off a bit, because for all of the politics and policies that the the students seemed to be concerned about, there really wasn’t a whole lot that he could identify that students were really “about.” And, what concerned him about this was that we were part of an institution which was meant to prepare people for ministry in the Church—and how were we to call the people of God to do Kingdom Work if we were not already being formed in that very work already? Where was the seminary—and where was the Church for that matter?

In our Gospel reading today, we see that Jesus and his disciples have had no end of work. Jesus has already committed to a pretty busy itinerary. Not only has he taken up the continuation of John the Baptist’s ministry: preaching, teaching and baptizing; Jesus is ushering in the Kingdom of God, and has also set his sights on Jerusalem, where he will be betrayed, killed, and inevitably raised again victorious from the dead.

But for now, we see Jesus taking on this role of prophet and teacher, even Messiah. However, even though there is an inner passion, and even divine direction leading Jesus, as we see in our reading today—Jesus is still very much about active, redemptive and life-giving work…and because of this, it’s very clear where Jesus and his disciples are to be found.

  

We see in our reading where the disciples had returned (here they are called apostles, because Jesus had already sent them out two-by-two). John the Baptist has already been beheaded, and things were beginning to get difficult for Jesus, as well…but as we see, Jesus finds himself compelled to compassion for those who have followed him and the disciples. And as we know from this reading, it’s because of all that Jesus and his disciples have done that the people know him, and even do what they can to seek him out.

Now, if we take a close look at this reading, I think we can begin to draw out a kind of outline for doing Kingdom Work, ourselves. After all, we know this passage follows a very common pattern for the work that we’ve seen in Jesus’ ministry thus far—simply put, he is driven by compassion, and responds in mercy to those who come to him.

But this isn’t all, because there is more to Kingdom Work than being compassionate and responding in mercy. As we see in our reading, the people are following Jesus and his disciples because both he and his disciples are known. Not only had Jesus’ reputation spread throughout the region, but his disciples had been sent out two-by-two, with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They had gone out and were casting out demons, healing the sick, and preaching about the Kingdom of God. So, all of them had begun to establish reputations right along with Jesus… This was the reason that people were seeking them out wherever they went.

  

Of course, people sought them out because they were miracle workers…but, that’s to say there might still be something for all of us to learn from this reading about church growth coming from God’s people doing Kingdom Work beyond the walls of the Church. In other words, because the people of God are being the Church outside the church building, people begin to see what it is that we say we’re about. And when people see that the Church is really about Jesus, and the work of God’s Kingdom…well, it seems to me that people are drawn to that…

But there’s more here than just a pitch for being an active congregation, too. We see that Jesus calls the disciples to come away to a deserted place to rest and pray. In contemplative traditions, this deserted place is understood to mean finding rest in the Presence of God. It also indicates the necessity for maintaining a disciplined spiritual practice, with regular prayer and reading of Scripture. Most importantly, it should be a reminder that Kingdom Work demands our whole selves, and to be able to continue to do that work and avoid burning out—we have to keep up with our health and self-care.

Finally, what this reading should remind us is that like the disciples, we have also been sent out by Jesus, as apostles, to continue in the work of salvation. Now, I don’t need to point out world, or local events to spur on your imaginations—you’ve read or heard about Darfur for years now…you know that there is tremendous economic disparity throughout our country and the world. But what I do want to bring to mind is that in the midst of all of that—all of the pain and trouble that we all know about—we’re called to bring light and life and hope with us into the world.

And while we may feel powerless to fix everything, we also need to be reminded that we’re not called to fix it. Instead, we’re called as children of God with all of our respective talents and creativity to bring the Light of Christ with us everywhere we go. We’re called to help where and when we can—and if we can’t, we’re given the ability to use the creativity given to us, by a creative God, to do what we are able to do.

And I believe that it’s this way that we find we are able best to be the Church, and commit ourselves to the work and mission God has called us to as the baptized Body of Christ.

While serving at St. Alban’s, Cleveland Heights, it was inferred that I couldn’t make anything any worse since the congregation had dwindled to 8 people on a Sunday, and they were likely to close in a couple of years. My job was either to be a good hospice nurse, or somehow coax university students into coming to our church, and do it at 10 hours a week.

The interesting thing was, however, that while we weren’t exactly close to the university, we were very close to places where many students (both undergraduate and graduate) hung out. We also happened to be located in an area, which had a reputation for art, music and really interesting culture—and while we didn’t have a whole lot in the way of money, we had a building, and 8 people.

  

In the first year, we just networked. We used the connections we had in the congregation to host an Avant garde string quintet…and we began building more connections. By the end of that year, however, we had engaged the college missioner from the diocese, and had begun to cultivate a multifaceted ministry which (I’m very happy to say) continues to thrive today.

By the end of my time there, we had experimented with community gardening, and had designed a plan to expand it. We had begun a weekly Wednesday evening meeting with discussion, prayer and a meal, which later expanded to a full day, neo-monastic experience. We were developing a Rule of Life for an intentional community, which was emerging from a group of young people in the congregation. We also partnered with a group which worked with homeless people and people in transition by teaching them art—and St. Alban’s hosted their first ever art show which was attended by almost 200 people. Ticket sales were a donation to the organization, and there were even some sales of art, which went to the artists…

In a two year period, our budget was in the black, even though we had added $2,000 in expenses. We had also grown from 8 to 25 people on a Sunday, along with ministries, which were drawing even more people. We were also the only congregation to bring 10 people (all under the age of 30) to the diocesan ministry discernment day. The fact is, it was all hands on deck, and more importantly, we chose not to respond only to crisis (one might say the whole place was in crisis, actually).

Instead, we worked together to discern a vision for the church. (By the way, I hope that you hear one important word: “we.” Regardless of the fact that I was being paid to be their priest, I could never have done this work without the commitment of other people). Because, together we committed to add our individual talents and abilities to grow this congregation in such a way that they became a model for the Diocese of Ohio to use for other congregations…

My point is, there are a lot of people who get paid a lot of money to develop strategies for building congregations. Christian Bookstores are replete with books and programs that are marketed as “proven” ways to develop ministry, and share our faith with others—and, of course, used book stores are equally full of these types of books.

But the thing that I feel like these publishers neglect to tell any of us—and perhaps what we’ve forgotten in the buzz and the hum of churches promising “relevance”—we’ve forgotten that all of this is about Jesus. All that we represent, and all that we are called to be about in this world is him. And, if we were to follow the trends, historically, we can see and understand that when we really live with Christ as central to our lives, things change. Things change for us and about us, and we find that we are helpless but to work and share this faith. And we share our faith—not only with words, but with our story. We do it by responding in compassion to the needs of the world, and when all of it gets to be too much, we find our respite in him who called us to this new way…Jesus Christ, the Author and Perfecter of our faith.

Now I can tell you, that when we really are about Kingdom Work—people notice, and it makes a tremendous difference. And the reason why is simply that the world has had more than enough of the false, vapid and meaningless kinds of faith. But once in a while we still hear the question that a cynical world continues to ask…”Where is the Church these days?”