Sunday, January 24, 2016

“As it is, there are many members,
yet one body.”
(1 Cor. 12:20)
Year C: Third Sunday after Epiphany                                                         Jan Robitscher
Nehemiah 8:1-6                                                                                  St. Mark’s Church
Psalm 19                                                                                                    Berkeley, CA
1 Corinthians 12:12-31a                                                                        January 24, 2016
Psalm 133, verse 1
Hineh mah tov, Umah nayim,
  Shevet achim Gam yachad.

Behold how good and pleasant it is
when brethren (kindred, all people)
dwell together in unity.

With these words from Psalm 131, Leonard Bernstein concludes his choral work, Chichester Psalms. The end of this movement is a quiet--almost inaudible--prayer for peace. Is it a wish or a pipedrean? On a global scale, maybe, but on Friday night, the choirs of St Mark’s and Temple Sinai came together at the Temple to sing this work for their Shabbat service, a work that is both startling and moving. Like Ezra reading the Law to the gathered people, we gathered, participated,  listened, sang, praised God and pondered the sense of what we were hearing and praying through music. This afternoon we will sing it again, this time here and in the context of a special Evensong. Again the choirs will come together to sing as one, ending with the quiet but urgent plea for peace. It is an expression of people “dwelling together in unity.”  I hope you will come.

All of today’s readings have to do with community. Fast forward from Ezra to St. Paul. Here is the most familiar analogy of community: The body of Christ. For Paul, the community gathered for worship is one of many members, but guided by the same Spirit. But what is most remarkable is that, for Paul,  its very unity is found in diversity: one body, many members.  No one has all the gifts. Each gift is necessrary to the others. One part cannot say to another, “I have no need of you”. Nor can one part say, 

“Because I am not like you, because I do not have your gifts, I do not belong to this body”.  Here Paul is speaking not of the church as institution (as it would become only a few centuries later) but as something quite literally organic, like a heart.1  The Christian community moves in procession to a heartbeat rhythm. 

Or does it? It is so easy for the Christian community, whether parish or province or denomination to become fractured and filled with what Paul calls in another place, “party spirit”, as opposed to unity in the Holy Spirit. Parts of the Anglican Communion have tried to say to the Episcopal Church, “I have no need of you and your liberal Church”. And we in the Episcopal Church might say to them, “I have no need of you and your conservative theology.” But such divisions do not only happen in the Church on a global level. At the risk of going “from preachin’ to medlin’”, in our own parish, the Altar Guild might be tempted to say to those serving at the Altar, ‘I have no need of you’ or the choir say to the congregation, ‘I have no need of you’, or anyone say, “Because I am not on this or that committee or in any other ministry, or I do not have all the gifts, I do not belong to this community”.  This is not Communion at all, but division.

But what does Paul mean by “unity”? In other letters, he describes it as being “of one mind” or “having the mind of Christ”. By this, he does not mean that everyone thinks alike, or agrees about everything, or that the community must be perfect. Of course not! Rather, all come together for the common good--a phrase and concept that is almost lost in our argumentative and self-centered society and, sadly,  even in the church. But in this passage we are encouraged to look beyond the norms of society (and even of the church) in encouraging membership and discerning ministry. We identify ourselves easily as the Body of Christ, yet it is often very difficult for us to discern the gifts of the Spirit.2  St. Paul turns this prayerful act of discerning gifts in the community on its head:

God has so arranged the body, giving the 
greater honor to the inferior member, that
there may be no dissension within the body,
but the members may have the same care for
one another.”  (1 Cor. 12:24)

Another place we can look to find guidance about living in community is from St. Benedict and his Rule. Here, the monastery becomes the “school for the Lord’s service3  where he admonishes juniors, seniors and children--all living in the community--to treat each other with respect,4 to honor the opinions of old and young members alike and, most famously, to welcome all guests as Christ, himself.5 

Perhaps today’s Gospel lesson is less obvious in what it speaks about community. Jesus is teaching in the synagogue. Once again the community is gathered to hear God’s Word, ponder its meaning and respond in worship. Jesus opens the scroll and reads from the prophet Isaiah and then, to the utter astonishment of his hearers says: “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing”.  Jesus is the fulfillment of the prophetic words. He came, anointed by the Spirit, to bring good news to the poor, liberty to captives, sight to the blind.... all these and more he did during his earthly ministry. But all of these works didn’t end with his death and resurrection! In the farewell discourses of the Gospel of John, Jesus says:
“Very truly I tell you, the one who believes 
in me will also do the works that I do and,
in fact, will do greater works than these...”
(John 14:12)

So Jesus is telling us that it is not enough to only live as a community unto ourselves. We must look outside these walls. Jesus came to seek and serve the marginalized, the captive, the lost and we must do the same.  Perhaps this is what Paul meant by his list of gifts and ministries: Apostles, prophets, teachers--those who lead and teach both inside and outside the community-- and the gifts of deeds of power, healing, forms of assistance, tongues and their interpretation--ministries of inreach and outreach.  

St Teresa of Avila said it another way with her poem which begins:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours....

No one has all the gifts! All are necessary for the life of the community!  All rejoice and suffer together. St. Paul is right when he concludes:
Now you--[that is, we--] are the body of Christ
and individually members of it. 

We are the ones who must continue in the Apostles’ teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread and in the prayers, as we promise in the baptismal vows.  But how do we do this?

The passage from the 1st letter to the Corinthians ends just before chapter 13 begins--the great chapter on love often read at weddings (the formation of yet another kind of community). St. Paul is clear that we are not alone ever as we strive to live in Community. We are the Body of CHRIST. Jesus is with us, now and always, and gives himself to us especially in the sacrament of Communion we are about to receive so that we become more and more His Body. Community and Communion. It is Love--not only as an emotion  but as  willed act--that will bind us together, especially in this time of transition. It is love--God’s love of us and our responding love of God-- that makes us the Body of Christ. 

The community of which St. Paul speaks may be a wish or a pipedream, but still we strive to live it out in St. Paul’s vision of the Body of Christ. But we remember that it’s roots are deep in the Psalmist’s poetic voice. Hear again the ancient words from Psalm 131 with which I began: 


Psalm 133, verse 1

Behold how good and pleasant it is
when brethren (kindred, all people)
dwell together in unity. Amen

Hineh mah tov, Umah nayim,
  Shevet achim Gam yachad.
Amen.











“We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord
and ourselves as your servants, for Jesus’ sake.”
(2 Cor.4:5, RSV)
Installatio n of Fr. Brian Rebholtz
Joshua 1:1-9                                                                                   Jan Robitscher
Psalms 133 and 134                                                             St. Luke’s, Auburn, CA
2 Corinthians 4:1-11                                                                    October 28, 2015
Luke 10:1-11
(Sung) In the silent hours of night,
bless the Lord.
In the Name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Bishop Beisner, Fr. Brian and your family, dear People of God: It hardly seems possible that it was three and a half years ago that I witnessed Fr. Brian’s ordination to the priesthood. Now, after a time of learning and growing as an Associate for Christian Formatio on the Other Coast, Fr. Brian has been called here to be your Priest-in-Charge; a new ministry with its joys and perils.  

The readings chosen for this service could fill several sermons! I will resist that temptation and follow the admonition I often give my preaching students at the School for Deacons. A closer look will reveal several over-arching themes that I believe are part and parcel of the ministry Fr. Brian is called to do here, with and among you. There is also a word that came to me from each reading. Together, these will form the Good News of this sermon.

All of these readings have to do with God’s call and  the process of responding to it. This is important because we have almost lost the language of “call” from the process of finding and naming those who will lead us, and from the discernment of the ministries we do in Christ’s Name. We say that a Rector or Priest-in-Charge is “elected” or “named” or “chosen” to serve a parish or mission--anything but “call”.  But call is what God does. So before anything is done, that call must be heard.

Joshua was called by God from being an assistant to Moses to being a leader of the People Israel.  No preparation. No asking if he was ready. But God did have things to say to Joshua; specific instructions about how he was to lead the people and what would be the outcome; about claiming the land promised to Moses, but which Moses never lived to see. And words of encouragement: 
As I was with Moses, so I will be with you;
I will not fail you or forsake you. Be strong
and courageous...
God calls, and Joshua listens and obeys. Listen!

St. Paul came to ministry by a very different route, transformed by a profound conversion from persecutor of the earliest Christians to being a leader ranked among the Apostles.  God called out in the voice of Jesus, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Again, God had specific instructions for the now-converted Paul, and he listened and obeyed. But did you notice something unique in this passage? Here, Paul never speaks of himself in the first person singular: I. No, he always refers to himself and his ministry in the plural--a ministry among God’s people; not to or for them.  Here “ourselves” has a double meaning: that of the preachers of the Good News and, more generally, the earliest Christians:
For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus
as Lord and ourselves as your servants for
Jesus’ sake.
And he goes on to give God all the credit--all the glory--for the Good News he is proclaiming:
For it is the God who said “Let light shine out of darkness,”
who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge
of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

The word from this passage is: Proclaim!

In our Gospel reading Jesus sends out the seventy ahead of him--about as many as this little parish!  And he sent them in pairs and, like the other two readings, with specific instructions. This is not accidental. We think of ministry as a solitary endeavor, something we figure out and do as individuals. This is especially true of clergy, who often find themselves isolated and lonely. Jesus will have no such thing! Notice that he sends out the seventy by twos, and ahead of him to proclaim the Kingdom of God. He is the Good Shepherd, who, like ordinary shepherds, watches the flock from behind, always guarding and guiding them. So it should be in the Church. YOU are the ministers of the Church! Fr. Brian is here to help show you how and where your gifts are needed, and to send you out.  Serve!


Now what might all of this really have to do with Fr. Brian’s call to be Priest-in-Charge here at St. Luke’s? These readings show a pattern of God’s call: Listen, Proclaim, Serve. Hearing God’s voice,  then acting on the call that God has made, serving each other and the wider community. This is not only the way that Fr. Brian came to you, it is the pattern I hope you will take up as a way of being Church. 

Listen. Proclaim. Serve. If this sounds at all familiar it is because I have taken a page from Anne Lamott’s popular book on prayer, Help, Thanks, Wow.  I think she is onto something here, and it brings me to the one reading we have not mentioned yet, the Psalm, and to the charge that I have for Fr. Brian.
(Sung) In the silent hours of night,
    bless the Lord.

The final word from the readings tonight is: Pray.  Psalm 134 is one of those that monks use at the end of the day, at the Office of Compline. It is very short, only two verses. But it speaks an invitation to “Bless the Lord... you that stand by night in the house of the Lord”; to lift holy hands in prayer always, even, at times, in the dark through the night. It is an invitation for all of us to a very different kind of prayer. We think of receiving God’s blessing, and it is wonderful to hear ourselves pronounced good in God’s sight. But this Psalm asks us to bless God. To bless God is to give thanks, to call God good--what we are about to do in the Eucharist--and in turn, the Psalmist prays that God will bless us; the Lord who made both heaven and earth.

Most clergy can’t remember the charge given to them at their ordination. So I will offer a new one, first to the congregation assembled (I won’t make you stand!) and then to Fr. Brian. 

Now I say to the church: Rejoice and give thanks that God’s Grace calls us all to a wide variety of ministries, yet brings us to unity in Christ through the Spirit. Be willing to look beyond your walls for these ministries, and invite those outside to come and see this community. Always remember that Fr. Brian (or any priest, deacon or anyone leading worship) does not do this in a vacuum. We--all of us--are necessary to complete the prayer. And rejoice that God has called Fr. Brian here to listen, proclaim, serve and pray with and for you. 
Now to Fr. Brian: It has been (and continues to be) an honor to watch  you learn and grow in your faith and in the vocation God has given you. From your first days in seminary I have seen you move from studying theology to developing a deep prayer life, falling in love and starting a family, ordination and now to applying in your ministry the theology you have studied. 

I want to paraphrase some words of Archbishop Ramsey and add a few verses from the Second Letter to Timothy, which contains perhaps the earliest charge we have:

As a priest, you have bound yourself to “the strong name
of the Trinity” and asked Jesus to be with you all ways. And you have been called to display in your person the the total response
to Christ=--to be a beacon of the Church’s pastoral,
prophetic and priestly concern, to which we are all pledged
at Baptism. I solemnly urge you: Proclaim the message
[in season and out of season]; convince, rebuke and 
encourage with all patience in teaching... Always be sober, 
endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, 
carry out your ministry fully.
...The Lord be with your spirit. Grace be with you.1 

Listen. Proclaim. Serve and pray! And be among us in all the ways
that we are about to hear in the Induction, but especially 
as a person of prayer.    

(Sung) In the silent hours of night
bless the Lord.
May God bless this New Ministry, of Fr. Brian and of this congregation, now and always.  Amen.








Saturday, January 10, 2015

Be strong, do not fear!
Hear is your God.”
(Isaiah 35:4a)

Monday, Advent II                                                                                Jan Robitscher
Isaiah 35:1-10                                                                                     CDSP--All Saints' Chapel
Psalm 85:8-13                                                                                     December 8, 2014
Luke 5:17-26
Marana tha! Come, Lord Jesus!

Advent is the season of the comings of Christ: past, present and future. The word “Advent” means literally “to come to”.  For most folks the main focus of this season is on the past, remembering the coming of Jesus at his birth, the fulfillment of ages of longing for a Savior, of longing for God to break into our good world marred by sin. This is not a bad thing! But it is also not complete. God comes to us continually and in many ways from the beginning of the cosmos until the end of time as we know it. Yet to only dwell on God coming to us--even most supremely in the Coming of Jesus-- is to miss an important part of this season. What about our coming to God? Advent, then, is the season of God’s comings to us and of our comings to God. What does it mean, then, to pray this simple, ancient prayer, “Marana tha!” and what might it have to do with today’s lessons?

Marana tha  is an Arabic phrase that occurs only once in the New Testament (1 Cor.16:22) and is usually not translated. It also appears in the early lirurgical document, the Didache. It can have at least two different meanings: “Come, Lord Jesus” or “Our Lord has come”, though the weight of must scholarship is on the cry and command, “Come, Lord Jesus”.1    

My journey with this word-prayer began a year ago when I attended a workshop given at All Souls Church on paperless music.  We were asked to make up a simple melody that could be easily taught that expressed some aspect of Advent. Here is what I did. I invite you to sing after me:
(Sung):  MARANA THA! MARANA THA!

This experience launched me into an intense time of praying “Come, Lord Jesus!” in many forms, most notably several of the Taize chants we did here at CDSP during Lent last March. One of them went like this:
(Sung): The Kingdom of God is justice and peace
and joy in the Holy Spirit.
Come Lord, and open in us
the gates of your Kingdom.

(Sung): And another: Let all who are thirsty come. 
Let all who wish receive the water of life
freely. Amen, come Lord Jesus.
Amen, come Lord Jesus.

Each chant contains the phrase, “Come, Lord!”. I was surprised how much I wanted to pray this prayer. Not as in former years when I would have been afraid to pray for Jesus to come: too scary; not worthy; not ready, and many more reasons. Yet, now it has become the expression of a deep longing both within me and for our world. 

But enough about me. What about the lessons? Isaiah shows the signs of God’s coming with a word-picture of the desert in full bloom, but also bids the people to be strong, to have courage. God is indeed coming, but maybe not as we would like or expect:
“Be strong; do not fear!
            Here is your God. He will come
with vengeance and terrible recompense.
He will come and save you.”

Only then does he speak of the wonderful healings that will take place: the eyes of the blind opened, the ears of the deaf unstopped... 

And our Gospel lesson? Here is a story that is really of a double-coming. It tells of a paralytic who longed to see Jesus so much that his friends went to wildly creative lengths to bring him right to the center of the crowd, to Jesus’ feet. But--much to the consternation of the Pharisees and the crowd--Jesus also longs to come to him--and not only by his presence. He wanted to heal  the man physically and spiritually. Not just his paralysis of body, but of mind and heart and spirit. And then he asked “Which is easier...?” The Pharisees and the crowd were confused. The man left with greater clarity--forgiven, healed, freed and rejoicing, “glorifying God”. 

We, too, long for Jesus to come; to be in his presence; to be healed both pyisically and spiritually. We do not have to wait long for Jesus to come. In a few minutes we will [receive the Sacrament of Healing]. In a few more minutes we will be invited to receive Jesus as he gives himself in bread and wine. He will come to us and dwell in us and we will become Christ bearers to the world.  

Which brings us back to the question: In this Advent, do we really want Jesus to come? Do we really want to pray, “Marana tha! Come, Lord Jesus”? I wonder what would happen if we tried it, both individually and as a community? What would happen if Jesus really did come into our lives, into our communities, into our world? Then maybe the words of the Psalm would be fulfilled:
I will listen to what the Lord God is saying,*
for he is speaking peace to his faithful people
and to those who turn their hearts to him.
Mercy and truth have met together;
righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
Truth shall spring up from the earth
and righteousness shall look down from heaven.
(Psalm 85: 9-11, BCP)

And Advent will truly be the Season of Comings: God to us and us to God.  

Be strong; do not fear! Here is your God! 


Marana tha! Come, Lord Jesus!”