This week marks the sixth anniversary of my ministry here at St. Cyprian’s, so decided to look at that first sermon I preached as this congregation’s Vicar. I think it worth hearing again, at least in part, since many of you in the pews were not here at that time. Remember, these were my words to the people of St. Cyprian’s six years ago, on November 2, 2008.
The Sunday After All Saints
November 2, 2014
In the name of the God of all Creation,
The God alive in each of us as God was alive in Jesus,
And the power of God known in the Spirit.
Amen.
November 2, 2014
In the name of the God of all Creation,
The God alive in each of us as God was alive in Jesus,
And the power of God known in the Spirit.
Amen.
Sometimes life comes at you real fast and, if you are like me, you end up looking back with the question, “How did I get here?” Sure, each step along the way made sense in the context of the particular place and time, but is this really what I thought I’d be doing? … Is this really where I thought I’d be at this point in my life? That is a question I pose for myself this day, and I pose for this congregation as it looks back over the past several years of its life together.
Four years ago [that would have been 2004] our daughter Jamie, our son-in-law Scott, our granddaughter Andie, and our brand new grandson Jax moved from Toledo, Ohio to St. Augustine. When we first came to visit them they lived on the first floor of a small house on Rohde Avenue … as it turned out, right next to St. Cyprian’s parishioner Chris Smith [now Chris Mason]. Jamie and Scott later moved just two blocks down Martin Luther King Avenue from the church, and when Caren and I would take an early morning walks on one of those visits from Massachusetts we would pass by this quaint Episcopal Church called St. Cyprian’s. “Wouldn’t that be an interesting pastorate,” Caren said … and I would keep on walking and change the subject. Little did I know.
It was just a year ago this week [in early November 2007] that I buried my mother in the memorial garden at Kanuga, the Episcopal Church’s conference center in Hendersonville, North Carolina. She had died in late October on the eighth anniversary of my father’s death, and we buried his ashes with my mother’s … one of her last wishes. Mom had been the last surviving parent for Caren and me. The loss was expected … Mom had been in hospice home care for six months … but the emotional and spiritual reality still had a sting.
Caren and I had left my last parish in Northampton, Massachusetts at the end of June, 2007, moved our household belongings to St. Augustine, and then we had spent the summer and fall traveling between here and Asheville, North Carolina where my mother lived. I was in a wilderness of sorts, with I-95 and I-26 the only path I knew to travel. During those months I did not attend church … it seemed that I always had something more important to do on Sunday morning. It was only after my mother’s death that I was forced to seek other bearings … and that is when we first crossed the threshold into St. Cyprian’s.
Jesus’ ministry begins with his baptism in the Jordan River. In the synoptic gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke the stories about the baptism are almost word-for-word identical. Immediately after his baptism Jesus enters the wilderness, but there is a striking difference in the three stories at this point: Matthew and Luke say that the Holy Spirit “led” Jesus into the wilderness … Mark says that the Holy Spirit “drove” him into the wilderness. For some this may be mere semantics. However, for me, the difference is significant.
After my mother’s death I was in a spiritual and emotional wilderness. On the one hand I see my mother’s illness and death as something that “drove” me into that wilderness. On the other hand, I made a choice to leave my parish in Northampton specifically so that I could spend time with my mother during her last months of life, and I feel that God’s Spirit “led” me into that barren landscape to see a beauty I would not have otherwise have known.
And a year ago [that would have been 2007], as I emerged from that wilderness, I’m not really sure whether I was “led” or “driven” to St. Cyprian’s, but I found your door open, and the welcome was comforting and healing. That is how I came to St. Cyprian’s. Now I am your vicar.
In my thirty plus years of ordained ministry I have come to understand the relationship between a clergyperson and a congregation as being similar to a marriage. It involves a commitment from each to the other … and a commitment to the relationship. It means sharing a common vision of the future. It requires a generosity of spirit and, at times, selflessness for the sake of the best interests of the whole. Like all marriages the relationship between a pastor and a flock can have its moments of disagreement, and it will therefore require repentance and forgiveness.
Now, most marriages begin with a romance. There is the initial meeting, followed by dating, falling in love, meeting the parents, and engagement and the wedding. The relationship between a clergyperson and a congregation usually follows a similar path. For a self-sustaining congregation with the designation of “parish” a posting of an open position attracts the interest of a clergy, and then there are letters back and forth, perhaps a telephone interview, a visit to the clergy’s parish by a search committee, then visits and interviews by the clergy to the open parish. Finally, the search committee makes a recommendation to the vestry and a call is extended and accepted. This whole process usually takes six to nine months.
That is the norm for calling a new rector in a parish. However, St. Cyprian’s is a mission congregation, not a parish. Instead of a rector the clergyperson is called a vicar … from the same root as the word “vicarious.” A vicar serves vicariously for the bishop who is the “rector” of a mission congregation. Vicars are appointed by the bishop, in some case with consultation with the leaders of the congregation, but not always. Maybe that is why this relationship feels like an arranged marriage in a culture where love and freewill is the norm. Yes, you do know me and Caren as fellow worshippers and, on occasion as the celebrant on Sunday morning. However, the fact cannot be denied that the lay leadership and people of St. Cyprian’s had no say in my appointment.
I will have to admit that there have been, for me, moments of anxiety … certainly lots of questions. And perhaps you have some of the same questions … and anxieties. Who is this person in the pulpit? Is this really going to work out? Are we going to like him? Is this really what God is calling us to?
Well, I can’t answer all your questions, but I can tell you how I address some of my questions. I feel deeply called by God’s Holy Spirit to this ministry. Caren and I talked, reflected, and prayed about this decision and have been willing to enter into this calling knowing that we do not have all the answers. I trust that God is present with all of us in this endeavor and, therefore, I am ready to commit my heart and soul to being your priest and pastor. And, when the bishop asked me I made the commitment that my tenure here at St. Cyprian’s, God willing, would be at least 3 to 4 years. Some of you will like me, and I imagine that there will be some who don’t. Some will find my sermons inspiring while others may be bored. Some will rejoice in the decisions we make together while others will be angered by them. However, we are all in this together and I trust God is calling us all to become more than we are at this moment in time. It is in that trust that I come to serve you.
Embedded in the service of the Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage is a prayer written by a onetime bishop of the Diocese of Washington, D.C., Angus Dunn. It is a prayer written for the bride and groom … it is one of my favorite prayers and reads:
Give them wisdom and devotion in the ordering to their common life, that each may be to the other a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy.
That is the prayer I offer today as we enter into this ministry together.
“Give them wisdom and devotion in the ordering of their common life …” We are entering a “common life” … it is not just my life, or your life, but our “common life.” A friend of mine preached at his daughter’s wedding and quoted scripture as saying that the “two shall become one,” and then he added, “but which one?” This is not about my agenda for the people of St. Cyprian’s. Nor is it the agenda of a particular faction of the congregation. It is about discerning God’s will for this congregation by faithfully listening to every voice, and allowing no one to have a veto. With a commonly held vision of the future the people of St. Cyprian’s, in their deep faith in God, will know “the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine.”
Our life in this congregation will be our “common life” and that common life requires “ordering.” Our life together will be one of clear purpose and vision for the future guided by “wisdom and devotion.” Wisdom and devotion is more than mere emotion and enthusiasm. People fall in love because of projections upon each other, and usually that love is expressed with great passion. But the prayer does not call for passion; rather it calls for “wisdom and devotion.”
I then went on to say something about each phrase of that prayer, making the sermon much too long, but I think you get the gist of it.
For me, and I believe for this congregation, these have been six wonderful and miraculous years. We have grown in numbers, spirit and ministry. We have been strength to each other when there has been need; we have share counsel with each other when we have been perplexed; we have comforted each other in our sorrows; and we have certainly been companions in our joys.
And we still have more to do. Just last week the Rev. Canon Bob Griffiths invited St. Cyprian’s to apply for parish status … he and the Bishop would like St. Cyprian’s declared a parish in the Diocese of Florida at our Diocesan Convention in this coming January. It would take a lot of work to accomplish all the tasks and jump through all the hoops for such action to happen in just three months, so it may not happen in January 2015, but we can look to January of 2016 for certain.
What had started as a ministry of three or four years has become one of six years … and I have no plans to leave anytime soon.
Before this sermon becomes too long, if isn’t already, I will end it the way I did in that sermon six years ago:
This spiritual journey has taken me beyond my wildest dreams, and I have been blessed beyond my imagination. A quote from the late Dag Hammerskold says it best for me:
“For all that has been, Thanks!
“For all that will be, Yes!”
I expect to continue to share that joy with the people of St. Cyprian’s, and I anticipate that you will show me new expressions of joy in your faith and life.
Yes, sometimes life does come at you real fast, and I still ask the questions, “How did I get here?” This congregation can look back at the last several years and ask the same question, “How did we get here?” “Driven” or “led” I know God’s Holy Spirit is at work, and once again I pray:
Give us wisdom and devotion in the ordering of our common life that each may be to the other a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow and a companion in joy.
Amen.
Four years ago [that would have been 2004] our daughter Jamie, our son-in-law Scott, our granddaughter Andie, and our brand new grandson Jax moved from Toledo, Ohio to St. Augustine. When we first came to visit them they lived on the first floor of a small house on Rohde Avenue … as it turned out, right next to St. Cyprian’s parishioner Chris Smith [now Chris Mason]. Jamie and Scott later moved just two blocks down Martin Luther King Avenue from the church, and when Caren and I would take an early morning walks on one of those visits from Massachusetts we would pass by this quaint Episcopal Church called St. Cyprian’s. “Wouldn’t that be an interesting pastorate,” Caren said … and I would keep on walking and change the subject. Little did I know.
It was just a year ago this week [in early November 2007] that I buried my mother in the memorial garden at Kanuga, the Episcopal Church’s conference center in Hendersonville, North Carolina. She had died in late October on the eighth anniversary of my father’s death, and we buried his ashes with my mother’s … one of her last wishes. Mom had been the last surviving parent for Caren and me. The loss was expected … Mom had been in hospice home care for six months … but the emotional and spiritual reality still had a sting.
Caren and I had left my last parish in Northampton, Massachusetts at the end of June, 2007, moved our household belongings to St. Augustine, and then we had spent the summer and fall traveling between here and Asheville, North Carolina where my mother lived. I was in a wilderness of sorts, with I-95 and I-26 the only path I knew to travel. During those months I did not attend church … it seemed that I always had something more important to do on Sunday morning. It was only after my mother’s death that I was forced to seek other bearings … and that is when we first crossed the threshold into St. Cyprian’s.
Jesus’ ministry begins with his baptism in the Jordan River. In the synoptic gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke the stories about the baptism are almost word-for-word identical. Immediately after his baptism Jesus enters the wilderness, but there is a striking difference in the three stories at this point: Matthew and Luke say that the Holy Spirit “led” Jesus into the wilderness … Mark says that the Holy Spirit “drove” him into the wilderness. For some this may be mere semantics. However, for me, the difference is significant.
After my mother’s death I was in a spiritual and emotional wilderness. On the one hand I see my mother’s illness and death as something that “drove” me into that wilderness. On the other hand, I made a choice to leave my parish in Northampton specifically so that I could spend time with my mother during her last months of life, and I feel that God’s Spirit “led” me into that barren landscape to see a beauty I would not have otherwise have known.
And a year ago [that would have been 2007], as I emerged from that wilderness, I’m not really sure whether I was “led” or “driven” to St. Cyprian’s, but I found your door open, and the welcome was comforting and healing. That is how I came to St. Cyprian’s. Now I am your vicar.
In my thirty plus years of ordained ministry I have come to understand the relationship between a clergyperson and a congregation as being similar to a marriage. It involves a commitment from each to the other … and a commitment to the relationship. It means sharing a common vision of the future. It requires a generosity of spirit and, at times, selflessness for the sake of the best interests of the whole. Like all marriages the relationship between a pastor and a flock can have its moments of disagreement, and it will therefore require repentance and forgiveness.
Now, most marriages begin with a romance. There is the initial meeting, followed by dating, falling in love, meeting the parents, and engagement and the wedding. The relationship between a clergyperson and a congregation usually follows a similar path. For a self-sustaining congregation with the designation of “parish” a posting of an open position attracts the interest of a clergy, and then there are letters back and forth, perhaps a telephone interview, a visit to the clergy’s parish by a search committee, then visits and interviews by the clergy to the open parish. Finally, the search committee makes a recommendation to the vestry and a call is extended and accepted. This whole process usually takes six to nine months.
That is the norm for calling a new rector in a parish. However, St. Cyprian’s is a mission congregation, not a parish. Instead of a rector the clergyperson is called a vicar … from the same root as the word “vicarious.” A vicar serves vicariously for the bishop who is the “rector” of a mission congregation. Vicars are appointed by the bishop, in some case with consultation with the leaders of the congregation, but not always. Maybe that is why this relationship feels like an arranged marriage in a culture where love and freewill is the norm. Yes, you do know me and Caren as fellow worshippers and, on occasion as the celebrant on Sunday morning. However, the fact cannot be denied that the lay leadership and people of St. Cyprian’s had no say in my appointment.
I will have to admit that there have been, for me, moments of anxiety … certainly lots of questions. And perhaps you have some of the same questions … and anxieties. Who is this person in the pulpit? Is this really going to work out? Are we going to like him? Is this really what God is calling us to?
Well, I can’t answer all your questions, but I can tell you how I address some of my questions. I feel deeply called by God’s Holy Spirit to this ministry. Caren and I talked, reflected, and prayed about this decision and have been willing to enter into this calling knowing that we do not have all the answers. I trust that God is present with all of us in this endeavor and, therefore, I am ready to commit my heart and soul to being your priest and pastor. And, when the bishop asked me I made the commitment that my tenure here at St. Cyprian’s, God willing, would be at least 3 to 4 years. Some of you will like me, and I imagine that there will be some who don’t. Some will find my sermons inspiring while others may be bored. Some will rejoice in the decisions we make together while others will be angered by them. However, we are all in this together and I trust God is calling us all to become more than we are at this moment in time. It is in that trust that I come to serve you.
Embedded in the service of the Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage is a prayer written by a onetime bishop of the Diocese of Washington, D.C., Angus Dunn. It is a prayer written for the bride and groom … it is one of my favorite prayers and reads:
Give them wisdom and devotion in the ordering to their common life, that each may be to the other a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy.
That is the prayer I offer today as we enter into this ministry together.
“Give them wisdom and devotion in the ordering of their common life …” We are entering a “common life” … it is not just my life, or your life, but our “common life.” A friend of mine preached at his daughter’s wedding and quoted scripture as saying that the “two shall become one,” and then he added, “but which one?” This is not about my agenda for the people of St. Cyprian’s. Nor is it the agenda of a particular faction of the congregation. It is about discerning God’s will for this congregation by faithfully listening to every voice, and allowing no one to have a veto. With a commonly held vision of the future the people of St. Cyprian’s, in their deep faith in God, will know “the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine.”
Our life in this congregation will be our “common life” and that common life requires “ordering.” Our life together will be one of clear purpose and vision for the future guided by “wisdom and devotion.” Wisdom and devotion is more than mere emotion and enthusiasm. People fall in love because of projections upon each other, and usually that love is expressed with great passion. But the prayer does not call for passion; rather it calls for “wisdom and devotion.”
I then went on to say something about each phrase of that prayer, making the sermon much too long, but I think you get the gist of it.
For me, and I believe for this congregation, these have been six wonderful and miraculous years. We have grown in numbers, spirit and ministry. We have been strength to each other when there has been need; we have share counsel with each other when we have been perplexed; we have comforted each other in our sorrows; and we have certainly been companions in our joys.
And we still have more to do. Just last week the Rev. Canon Bob Griffiths invited St. Cyprian’s to apply for parish status … he and the Bishop would like St. Cyprian’s declared a parish in the Diocese of Florida at our Diocesan Convention in this coming January. It would take a lot of work to accomplish all the tasks and jump through all the hoops for such action to happen in just three months, so it may not happen in January 2015, but we can look to January of 2016 for certain.
What had started as a ministry of three or four years has become one of six years … and I have no plans to leave anytime soon.
Before this sermon becomes too long, if isn’t already, I will end it the way I did in that sermon six years ago:
This spiritual journey has taken me beyond my wildest dreams, and I have been blessed beyond my imagination. A quote from the late Dag Hammerskold says it best for me:
“For all that has been, Thanks!
“For all that will be, Yes!”
I expect to continue to share that joy with the people of St. Cyprian’s, and I anticipate that you will show me new expressions of joy in your faith and life.
Yes, sometimes life does come at you real fast, and I still ask the questions, “How did I get here?” This congregation can look back at the last several years and ask the same question, “How did we get here?” “Driven” or “led” I know God’s Holy Spirit is at work, and once again I pray:
Give us wisdom and devotion in the ordering of our common life that each may be to the other a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow and a companion in joy.
Amen.
