“Rise, let us be on our way.”(John 14:31b)
Easter 5 Tuesday Jan Robitscher
Acts 14: 19-28 All Saints Chapel
Psalm 145:9-14 Church Divinity School of the Pacific
John 14: 27-31a May 12, 2009

Alleluia! Christ is risen.
The Lord is risen, indeed. Alleluia!

Why is Easter--or rather the Easter Season--so hard to keep? We seem to have little trouble keeping Advent for four weeks. We save Christmas Carols (if not our decorations) for Christmas, or just before. And we withhold our Alleluias for all of the six weeks of Lent and Holy Week and we manage to keep the fast until the dawn of Easter Day. But Easter? How shall we keep the whole 7 seeks of Easter? The mantra at my parish (St. Mark?s) is: We are compelled to Feast! --and we are really good at that! But even feasting is hard to keep up for the whole Easter Season. And it is hard to sing Easter hymns--to keep up the joy for seven weeks. It is not that we don?t believe that Jesus lives, or that, through baptism, we have new life in him to all eternity. And it is true that each season of the Church Year at some time turns a corner, pointing toward what is coming next. But I think there is something more here that our readings today will help us discover.

In preparing this sermon, I had one of those startling moments, finding a phrase of Scripture I had not seen or heard before. It is just beyond the end of our Gospel Reading.

Jesus says, “Rise, let us be on our way.”

Although we know these discourses of Jesus were his farewell words before his crucifixion, I also hear them--or at least this part of them--as words before his Ascension, or perhaps words his disciples remembered then. After giving his disciples a benediction of Peace (which was always his “Easter greeting”), he says, “I go away, and I will come to you.”

The disciples must have been totally bewildered and even bereft. They would endure the parting of his death and then the fear and joy of his resurrection. Now he was about to leave them again. Here is the undercurrent of the Easter Season: comings, and goings.

If we look at our reading from Acts, it is downright frenetic. Jesus was not the only one coming and going. The disciples moved from Lystra to Iconium to Antioch; Pisida, Pamphylia and Perga. In order for faith in the risen Lord to spread, the disciples, too, had to be active and on the move.

But it was not easy. Paul was nearly stoned to death. They preached the Gospel, made many disciples, exhorted the new believers to remain firm in their faith, reminding them that it is “through many tribulations that [they] must enter the Kingdom of God. They appointed elders in every church and committed them all to the Lord. On to Attalia and then returning to Antioch, “where they had been commended to the grace of God for the work which they had fulfilled.” Whew!

So back to my startling discovery. After the last verse of our Gospel reading comes the other half of verse 31 where Jesus says: “Rise, let us be on our way”.

“Rise, let us be on our way.”

We are within two weeks of the end of the semester. We are still in the Easter Season, but, like other seasons of the Church Year, turning the corner toward what comes next: Ascension and Pentecost. In the academic year, we are turning the corner toward graduation and ordinations, or whatever comes next. As one who lives here, this is a hard, sometimes sad time. Friends I have made over three years at CDSP and at the School for Deacons depart to do the ministries God has prepared for them in many places. And each September, a whole new class enters, and we must learn to live with each other all over again.

But Jesus, when he gave his benediction of Peace, promised his disciples that although it was necessary for him to leave, he would not leave them--or us--alone. He promised to send the Holy Spirit to comfort us, to remind us of all that Jesus taught, to lead us into all truth and, he said, “that the world may know that I love the Father.” He promised to be present when two or three are gathered, as we are now. And he promised to be very present with us, giving himself in bread and wine each time we remember his death (and resurrection) until he comes. His parting words were that he would be with us always, even to the end of the age.

And more than that, Jesus ascended to the Father whom he loved and sent the Holy Spirit so that we can--and must-- become his hands and feet and heart. We must become Christ for each other--in a world so full of hurt and in so much need of the love he showed us.

Here is the Good News! The comings and goings of Jesus and his disciples, and of our various communities, are not without purpose or hope. Jesus must leave in order for the Holy Spirit to come. Students must graduate from CDSP and the School for Deacons to begin new ministries and make room for new students to come. This is how the Gospel is spread. This is how the Church grows. This is how we become Christ for the world. The time is short and there is much to do!

“Rise.”, Jesus says to us, “Let us be on our way.”

“When the time came for their purification...
the parents of Jesus brought [Jesus]... to present him to the Lord.”

(Luke 2:22)
Feast of the Presentation
Jan Robitscher
February 2, 2009
All Saints' Chapel
CDSP

Malachi 3:1-4
Ps. 84:1-6
Hebrews 2:14-18
Luke 2: 22-40

In honor of the divine mystery that we celebrate today,
let us hasten to meet Christ. Everyone should be eager
to join the procession and carry a light.

(Sophronius of Jerusalem, Bishop, The Prayer Book Office, p. 734)

So we enter into this celebration of the Presentation of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the Temple, the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Candlemas, The Encounter, The Meeting of the Lordor simply “The Meeting” as it is known in the East. By whatever name we call it, this is a hinge Feast, half way between Christmas and Easter, half way between winter and Spring, which has been in the Church?s calendar from the fourth century and has had a long and interesting history, of which I will give you only a small part:

Egeria, writing around AD 380, attests to a feast of the Presentation in the Jerusalem Church. It was kept on February 14th. However, the feast had no proper name at this point; it was simply called the 40th day after Epiphany.

In 542, the Emperor Justinian introduced the feast to the entire Eastern Roman empire in thanksgiving for the end to a great pestilence afflicting the city of Constantinople. Perhaps this is when Pope Gregory I brought the feast to Rome. Pope Sergius (687-701) introduced the procession to the Candlemas service. The blessing of candles did not come into common use until the 11th century.

Some superstitions developed about Candlemas, including the belief that if one does not take down Christmas decorations by Candlemas, traces of the holly and berries will bring about the death of the person involved!1

And yes, there is a connection between this Feast and Groundhog Day, but that?s another sermon!

Let us enter into just one aspect of this Feast: it's Eastern title “The Meeting”.
Meetings. Our lives are filled with meetings: annual parish meetings, board meetings, committee meetings, counseling or spiritual direction meetings. Many of these are long and involve hard work and get results. Others are long, unproductive and downright boring! They have agendas and minutes and sometimes forms for opening and closing. If all goes well, each one present gets a turn to speak and, hopefully, all are listening.. In the best case, meetings are useful, promote community, and some good fruit comes from them.

In one way, it was an ordinary meeting on an ordinary day when an ordinary couple came to fulfill an ordinary “agenda” of customs required of them by the Law. Mary and Joseph came 40 days after Jesus? birth in order to sacrifice two turtle doves (required of poorer folk) and so that Mary could undergo the rites of purification. Just another meeting... But this was not just a meeting; it was the Meeting. Today?s Feast is the celebration of a more-than-cooincidental coming together where Mary, Joseph and the Child Jesus met with Simeon and Anna in the Temple.

Here was the prophesy of Malachi fulfilled:
Thus says the Lord, See, I am sending my messenger
to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you
seek will suddenly come to his temple...

Here Simeon took into his arms the Lord's Messiah for whom he had waited so long, and sang for joy:
Now, Lord, you have released your servant (from duty),

in accord with your Word, in peace.
Because my eyes have seen your Salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
A light for revelation to the Gentiles
and glory for your people Israel

(Tr. Nolland)

God's Salvation brings light to the Gentiles and glory to the people Israel! But Simeon goes on to speak a word to Mary, that the infant Jesus she held in her arms would grow up to be “the fall and the rising of many...a sign that will be opposed...” and Simeon declared to Mary that she would witness Jesus? own sacrifice, far greater than two turtle doves, “a sword, too, shall pierce your own heart...” And here was the promised redemption of Jerusalem which the prophet Anna could finally announce to anyone who would listen. So the cycle of the Christian Year continues, as one mystery leads into another...

Individually, Simeon, Anna, Mary and Joseph did not expect anything to be different when they went to do their duty in the Temple that day. Yet they were all impelled, whether by obedience or by divine action, to be there.. Meeting together, they received in the infant Jesus the wonderful revelation of God?s salvation.

But that's how God is--gifting us with the unexpected, even if we don't recognize or understand it at the time. We are invited--as they were--to a meeting--The Meeting--to celebrate the presence of Jesus, who is God-With-Us. The ordinary meeting became an extraordinary encounter with God and a revelation of salvation--an Epiphany-- right in their midst.

So it is with us. We have come to The Meeting. We, too, can come with Mary and Joseph, and can have an encounter with God. We, too, can receive Jesus in bread and wine and proclaim with Simeon that he is the Savior of the world. We, too, can sing Semeon?s Song, and when we light a candle and pray at evening, we can sing it to commend ourselves and one another to God for this life and the life to come. We, too, can go out from here and, like Anna, tell of God?s redeeming love.

And may this be so for all for our meetings here in this Chapel, day by day, but also for all our meetings in our parishes or here at seminary or in the world. Whenever two or three (or more) are gathered in his Name, Jesus is in our very midst. (Light a candle for a reminder.) May the Holy Spirit guide us as we set the agenda and help us to speak the truth with love. May our meetings bear much fruit, and may we go out from them changed by our encounters with one another and with God.

As Sophronius of Jerusalem invited us to enter the candle-lit procession which marks this feast, so Origen invites us carry it with us in this comment and prayer:

Let us too stand in the Temple and hold God's Son
and embrace him; and that we may deserve leave
to withdraw and start on our way towards a better
land, let us pray to God, the all-powerful, and to
the little Jesus himself, whom we so much want
to speak to and hold in our arms.
To God be the glory and power now and always.

Amen.

(A Christmas Sourcebook, p. 85)

“Who then is the faithful and wise servant...?”
(Matt. 24:45)
Theodore of Tarsus
by Jan Robitscher
2 Timothy 2: 1-5, 10
Ps. 34: 9-14
Matthew 24:42-47
All Saints Chapel
CDSP
September 18, 2008



In the name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

O Countenance like the Ember,
bid me remember.
(from an anonymous Irish text)

Today we remember the life and work of Theodore of Tarsus who died on this day in 690. Today is also an Ember Day. Encompassing both in one liturgy is a lot, and you may well ask, “ What do these Theodore and Ember Days have to do with each other, and why is it so important to remember them?

In June, about a month before the Lambeth Conference, I spent a week doing a Benedictine Experience retreat at Canterbury Cathedral. Much of the retreat went to praying for the Lambeth, that is, when we were not working around the Cathedral, visiting the place of Thomas Becket’s martyrdom or studying. But I also took a lot of time simply absorbing the place that is Canterbury Cathedral. I tried to absorb the communal prayers and memories which saturate every stone, window, statue and altar of the place. Part of my prayer was before the long list of Archbishops of Canterbury. Among these was Theodore of Tarsus, whom we remember today.
O Countenance like the Ember,
bid me remember.

It was by a convoluted route that Theodore became Archbishop of Canterbury. When Deusdedit died, Wighard was chosen, but he died before he could be consecrated in Rome. Then the pope decided to choose his own man, Adrian, an African-born abbot from Naples, but he refused and proposed Andrew, who was well qualified except for his health. Stories vary, but one goes that the pope tried again to force Adrian, but this time he put forward a healthy, sixty-six year old African-born Greek monk (not a priest) named Theodore who had been schooled in Antioch and Rome. The pope finally relented, but said the Adrian had to accompany Theodore to England.


Once there (complete with proper Roman tonsure), Theodore set about a circuit of the entire nation. One thing he must have discovered is that Christians there were familiar with the celebration of Ember Days. These had existed from the earliest Church, partly to counter Roman agricultural ceremonies and mostly to enjoin all the faithful to a time of fasting and prayer to thank God for the gifts of nature, to use its gifts wisely and to help the needy. The practice of Ember Days was brought to England by Augustine of Canterbury. It was not until the 11th century that Pope Gregory VII made a definite arrangement of the Ember Days: the Wednesday, Friday and Saturday after St. Lucy’s Day (Dec. 13), Ash Wednesday, Pentecost and Holy Cross Day. Later, ordinations were held on the Saturdays of Ember weeks, with prayers for fruitful ministries. They are now an occasion to pray for all vocations and to “rekindle the fire” of our worship and ministry.
O Countenance like the Ember,
bid me remember.

In 672, Theodore presided over the first council of the whole English Church. This was a major feat, as the Council of Whitby, at which Abbess Hilda persuaded the various factions to adopt the practices of the church in Rome, was only nine years earlier. He could have introduced yet a third way, of the Christian East, but instead strove to unify the Church as it was. In addition, he established boundaries for dioceses, revised canon law and ordained bishops where needed. In short, Theodore took what he found--a “disorganized missionary body” and left it “a fully ordered province of the universal Church”1

And remember Adrian? He became head of a school Theodore founded in Canterbury to train both Celtic and Roman Christians, and he, too, did much to unite the two groups.

Beyond the “physical” marks of unity that Theodore brought to the English Church lies something much deeper. Theodore was originally from Tarsus (yes, the Tarsus of St. Paul) and it was Theodore’s theology, grounded in the Schools of Antioch and Rome, and much influenced by two giants: Ireneus and Ephrem the Deacon. This was perhaps his greatest gift to the Church. Ireneus gave us the wonderful words, “The Glory of God is humanity fully alive!” Ephrem gave us poetry and hymns to express the mystery of the Incarnation (see hymn #443). Both are hallmarks of Anglican theology right down to the present day. Thanks be to God for Theodore, the “faithful and wise servant”!

So what do Theodore, Ember Days and remembering have to do with each other? Listen to a bit more of the celtic poem I have been quoting:

O Countenance like the Ember,
bid me remember
The Lamb of God, sore taken,
The Lamb of God forsaken,
The Lamb of God under clay,
Three days till Resurrection Day!

Here, in remembering--in re-membering Christ crucified and risen, is the deepest memory, steeped in the stones of Canterbury Cathedral and of every church and altar; of Theodore and all the saints; in the Ember Days and in all our days; in each of us gathered here and in the hearts of all God’s faithful people; in all our celebrations of the Eucharist.

O Countenance like the Ember,
bid me remember!

“[Jesus] said to them, ‘Do you not know
that I must be in my Father’s house?’”
(Luke 2: 49)

Feast of St. Joseph (transferred)
Jan Robitscher
All Saints Chapel
CDSP
March 31, 2008
2 Samuel 7:4, 8-16
Psalm 89:1-4m 26-29
Romans 4: 13-18
Luke 2: 41-52

Alleluia. Christ is risen.
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.
When I was a child I used to listen to my father’s LP collection, which included a wonderful Christmas recording by the Robert Shaw Chorale, happily now on a CD. I remember listening (and trying hard to imitate) the wonderful contralto, almost tenor voice of Florence Kopleff singing The Cherry Tree Carol to the beautiful Kentucky Harmony tune.
When Joseph was an old man.
an old man was he,
he married Virgin Mary
the queen of Galilee.
He married Virgin Mary,
the queen of Galilee.
(from The Cherry Tree Carol)[1]
I’d love to sing it all, but that would make a long sermon, indeed! Not until later did I discover other versions of this carol, my other favorite being one sung by King’s College Choir. I was Presbyterian, and it was through this carol that I became acquainted with Joseph as an important biblical character in his own right. Perhaps this seems strange, as the carol (with it’s many versions) tells a story much embellished over the scant biblical accounts--but it was a way into the lives of Mary and Joseph, whose feasts (transferred) we celebrate today and tomorrow. We will hear much more about Mary tomorrow. For now, let’s take a moment and dwell on Joseph.

Joseph was a man of royal lineage, from David. In spite of this, he was a person of humble work as a carpenter. So he has become the patron of workers, especially appropriate on this Cesar Chaves Day. He is only mentioned some 15 times in the Gospels and, at that, is silent. In the Western Church, Joseph was almost completely absent from the celebrations of Christendom until the 14th century, and only added to the Litany of Saints in 1729. In 1870 he was named Patron and Protector of the Universal Church, and many churches and cities bear his name, including our own San Jose. He still remains in the background of Eastern Orthodox spirituality (where he is called Joseph the Elder), though he does appear in iconography and his supporting role is considered essential to the working out of the divine plan.[2] In the Counter-Reformation, however, his image was recast as a younger, more vigorous man, but this never really “took”.

That we know so little about him may be the reason behind the profusion of apocryphal stories, carols and customs about him, among them that he was a widower before marrying Mary. He is often pictured with a walking staff with lily blossoms, indicating that he was divinely chosen. And customs range from the “Joseph Table” which Italians and others used to to thank St. Joseph for favors granted and to feed the poor, to burying a statue of St. Joseph upside-down in your yard to sell the house!

So what is it about Joseph that we are celebrating? What draws us to him?

Throughout the biblical narrative, Joseph was open to hearing the voice of God and was obedient, without knowing the final outcome. When the angel of the Lord revealed to him in a dream that Mary was with child “from the Holy Spirit” and that he would be called Jesus, he immediately and without question took Mary for his wife and took up his role as Jesus’ foster father. (Matt. 1:20-21) So he is also the patron of fathers, families and doubters.

When the angel warned him again of Herod’s impending slaughter, Joseph gathered his family (the name Joseph means “God gathers”) and fled to Egypt until he was told it was safe to return.

Joseph respected God. He went to Jerusalem to have Jesus circumcised and took Mary and Jesus to the Temple for her purification. And every year they went to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover.
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In today’s Gospel reading, we hear the story of young Jesus in the Temple, with his parents searching for him “in great anxiety for three days for him. (Luke 2:48). Jesus’ own explanation “...I must be in my Father’s house” must have been bewildering and even hurtful for Joseph--as for any parent who wants to give their child “roots and wings”--or perhaps by then he understood who and whose Jesus was. That Joseph treated Jesus as his own son is attested in several places where the people of Nazareth say of Jesus, “Is this not the son of Joseph?” (Luke 4:22)

Perhaps most of all, Joseph was a person who, through his own love for Jesus, gave him the primary metaphor for God: a patient and loving Father.

We have no record of Joseph during Jesus’ public life, his death and resurrection, so most historians believe he died sometime before then. For this he is the patron of a “happy” (or peaceful) death.

Of all these qualities of openness and obedience to God, compassion and faith, what is it about this simple, silent man that attracts us to him? In the end, it is Joseph’s self-giving love that draws us most: Love of his family in spite of the stupendous circumstances that brought them together; Love of the honest work of his hands, which dignifies all labor; love of Jesus, who was himself Love Incarnate. Would that we could all be mirrors with such a reflection!

And if you are wondering by now what the connection is between St. Joseph and the Easter season. Well, there isn’t any--at least not directly. We will find it in another version of The Cherry Tree Carol. Several years have passed since Joseph married Mary and, by a miracle, she had her cherries from the tree. Joseph has faded from the scene. Mary asks Jesus “how the world will be”. He foretells his death and then says:

4. On Easter Day My mother
My rising will be,
O the sun and the moon, mother,
They shall uprise with Me.[3]





The Cherry Tree Carol
Kentucky Mountain Ballad[4]


When Joseph was an old man,
An old man was he,
He married Virgin Mary
The Queen of Galilee.
Then Mary spoke to Joseph,
So meek and so mild:
“Joseph, gather me some cherries,
For I am with child.”

Then Joseph flew in anger,
In anger flew he:
“Let the father of the baby
Gather cherries for thee.”

Then Jesus spoke a few words,
A few words spoke He:
“Let my Mother have some cherries,
Bow low down, cherry tree.”

The cherry tree bowed low down,
Bowed low down to the ground,
And Mary gathered cherries
While Joseph stood around.

The Joseph took Mary
All on his right knee,
“What have I done Lord?
Have mercy on me.”

Then Joseph took Jesus
All on his left knee:
“Oh tell me, little baby,
When thy birthday will be.”

“The sixth day of Januar[y]
My birthday will be,
When the stars in the elements
Will tremble with glee.”




[1] transcribed from a field recording by John A. Lomax in the Archive of Folk Culture, Library of Congress, AFS 1010 Al, Joseph and Mary, sung by Jilson Setters (James W. Day) at Ashland, Kentucky, 28 June 1937. From Elizabeth Poston and Malcolm Williamson, A Book of Christmas Carols. (New York: Prentice Hall, 1988).
[2] Sandra Miesel, Finding St. Joseph.
[3] The Cherry Tree Carol Part 3: Mary's Question Terry: Words (adapted) from various collections. Melody traditional.
[4] from Christmas with the Robert Shaw Chorale , CD from the Musical Heritage Society.