Grace be unto you and peace from God our Father and from the
Lord Jesus Christ.
It’s great to be with you all this morning, and it’s
a wonderful privilege for me to be addressing you at the 145th
Annual Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Kansas where
our theme is, “Plant a seed, Make a difference.”
Now I realize this theme may have been lost upon some of you
during yesterday’s business meeting when you began to
believe our theme might be, “Vote often.” But we
really do have a positive theme, and today I have the opportunity
to tease that theme out a little more with all of you.
I’d like to begin by thanking the Dean of Grace Cathedral,
Steve Lipscomb, and the rest of the cathedral’s dedicated
staff, for their warm and hospitable welcome. At the center
of a dynamic diocese you often find a Spirit-filled cathedral,
and while you may belong to another parish in this diocese,
in our ecclesiology, you’re also considered
a member of the cathedral’s extended family of faith.
This cathedral belongs to everyone in the diocese, and it’s
always a privilege when we gather together at convention and
meet in this beautiful and sacred space.
For 145 years – 145 years! – we Episcopalians
who reside in the state of Kansas have been gathering together
to be in communion with one another and with God, to share
our victories and our defeats, to be emboldened by the presence
of the Holy Spirit among us, to dare great things and, by our
very presence, to become, “outward and visible signs
of an inward and spiritual grace” granted by our Lord
Jesus Christ.
For 145 years, we have been planting seeds and making a difference.
We have endured droughts and pestilences, tornadoes and floods,
searing heat and freezing cold, economic depression and recessions
great and small. We have overcome indifference, endured scandal,
triumphed over enemies foreign and domestic, risen above theological
disagreement, outlasted poor leadership and bridged racial
and political divides – any one of which could have ended
our work for Christ here at the heart of our nation.
But God had a purpose for us. God had a reason for us. Before
we could begin to grasp it, God knew what it was we were to
be doing. We believe we were placed here by God, “not
merely to endure,” as William Faulkner once famously
said, “but to prevail.”
There is something profound, I believe, in the motto of the
State of Kansas. “Ad astra per aspera. – To
the stars, through difficulty.” As a civic motto, it
captures our state’s aspirations wonderfully. It is uplifting,
yet grounded; grand, yet practical. It bids us as citizens
to strive beyond our human limitations and to reach toward
an exciting future, a future beyond the laws of gravity and
the natural boundaries which govern, “this fragile earth,
our island home.”
What the motto doesn’t attempt to minimize is the reality
of the strain which is inevitably involved in striving for
something great. No great thing is ever achieved without struggle.
(Do I sound like your mother?) No great thing is ever achieved
without struggle. Nothing great comes without difficulty, and
no one understood this better than those tough Kansans who
established this as a free state – and the Episcopal
Church with it – on the great Midwestern plains.
Now I’m new to Kansas, and you’ll pardon the kind
of enthusiasm I have for my new home and for its history, but
it seems to me that Kansas has imprinted in its DNA, in its
genetic code, a call to moral righteousness. Many of the pioneers
who first came to Kansas came to ensure this state met a moral
imperative: that this would be, not a slave state…not
a state which tolerated the ownership of one human being by
another, but a free state, a state where every created being
would have a chance to live into God’s purpose for their
life.
Now many of you know a good deal more than I do about this
proud heritage, and, of course, more recent historians remind
us that high-mindedness was not a universal attribute among
our founding fathers and mothers. Racism, greed, petty rivalries,
savagery, selfish individualism – all the sins you would
expect to find in any human settlement – were all here
in abundance as well. Even the taking of the land itself from
the Native Americans who once dwelt here in great number, who
saw the whole earth as holy, is a reminder that our sins are
never far from us.
But at the root of it, at its very base, there was a hope,
an innate sense of God’s providence, which enmeshed itself
in the dreams of those primarily Christian pioneers who believed
if they worked very hard, and I mean very hard,
if they lived lives of integrity and purpose, if they became
the people God created them to be, then God would bless them
abundantly. Out of the wilderness schools and hospitals, orphanages,
mental institutions and helping organizations of every kind
grew and prospered. We sometimes forget that almost every college
or hospital, almost every institution established for the common
good you can name in our diocese, was founded by Christian
men and women who felt an obligation to express their faith,
not only in word, but in deed. What a holy, holy heritage!
Well, God kept God’s end of the bargain. These extraordinary
people – and we, who are their legacy – were extraordinarily
blessed with crops and businesses, scientific and education
advance, and economic gain which has never been paralleled
in the history of all the world. America, with Kansas at its
heart, has become the richest, most powerful nation ever in
the history of the world. Not ancient Greece or Rome at their
apex, nor the British Empire at the height of its power, nor
any Middle Eastern entity nor any power of the Far East rivals
the height and depth and breadth of this modern empire.
Plant a seed, make a difference? The harvest was so great
it could barely be gathered in! It was like that great,
ancient fishing expedition of old, when Jesus made certain
the catch was so great that the boat on which the disciples
stood was in genuine danger of sinking. But, “To whom
much has been given, much is required.” We who have been
so amazingly blessed need, periodically, to be reminded that
these gifts were not given to us for no reason, and that we
were intended to be stewards of these gifts. We were intended
to be the kind of people who would reach out to brothers and
sisters, who would identify critical needs in our communities
and be a constant witness to the love and grace of God – in
every community, in which we have been placed. This is the
noble, this is the grand, vision to which we are called. To
be disciples of Christ in this generation makes us inheritors
of such a tradition and history, but to make it our own, to
make a difference in this time, in this moment, in our lives,
in our parishes, in our towns, cities and villages.
Well, bishop, what have you been doing in your first year?
How’s it all been? Is there enough work to keep a person
fully occupied? Is that a full-time job you’re holding
down there?
Well, first, we did a little housekeeping. Literally. Part
of the diocesan offices have been cleaned and painted from
funds which were long ago set aside for this kind of maintenance
and upkeep. Dirty windows, peeling paint, rusting metal, wherever
they are found, are not signs of our frugality. They are not
signs of thriftiness. They are indications we have not been
good stewards of that which has been entrusted to our care.
There is always a difference between being frugal and being
just cheap, and we, as Christian men and women, are called
to understand the difference.
Now, we have a small diocesan staff and therefore, every person
on that team is critical to the success of the entire enterprise.
In terms of the diocesan staff…
I have retained the Reverend Canon Jo Ann Smith to assist
me in the areas of deployment, administration, congregational
development and the Commission on Ministry process. She holds
the same title she had previously but has a very different
job description.
I have hired Jeanne Atha away from the Kansas legislature
to serve as my executive assistant and diocesan registrar,
and I give thanks for her almost every day.
I have re-hired Dorothy Emory in the newly-redesigned position
of diocesan administrator, making her responsible for insurance
and diocesan administrative matters, including this convention.
Dorothy Emory has, in turn, hired Logan Reynolds and Brian
Dawson as part-time receptionists.
I’ve hired Jay Currie, as our new diocesan comptroller.
Jay holds an MBA degree from Washburn University and is a certified
public accountant, but maybe more important than that, he brings
a servant’s heart to this crucial aspect of our ministry.
Melodie Woerman, although a member of the staff for more than
a decade, now has a new role as diocesan director of communications,
and I look forward to the work she will offer on behalf of
the ministry of communications in this diocese.
I’ve re-hired Chad Senuta, our extremely gifted coordinator
of youth ministries.
Reeta Aikens continues to assist as our part-time Commission
on Ministry administrator.
Joe Alford and Matt Cobb continue in their role as campus
chaplains at KU and KSU.
Frank Connizzo continues as our part-time planned giving officer,
and Jim Upton continues as our part-time director of the Kansas
School for Ministry.
Most of these job assignments have been juggled, and job descriptions
have been expanded to fit the current needs of the diocese.
The juggling is not complete, as we continue to seek to find
the best mix of part-time and full-time assistance, attempting
always to be good stewards of the money that you send and always
attempting to do more with less.
Additionally, I’ve selected four deans to assist in
the ministry to the individual convocations, to have the diocese
expand into the convocations, to make sure that pastoral needs
can be quickly met when necessary. And so we have the Very
Reverends Dale Plummer, Kate Moorehead, Michael Munro and Jerry
Adinolfi, and they have done a wonderful job in bringing the
diocese to the congregations and connecting the congregations
more thoroughly to the diocese.
And I’ve empowered “priests-in-charge” in
a number of parishes, by making them either vicars or rectors.
My purpose in doing that is that we do not have lots of time.
As I have told a number of vestries on various occasions, I’m
a fan of the great American western. My father used to watch
John Wayne movies like nobody’s business. And so I am
very familiar with that moment, in almost every western, when
the cowboys are all hunkered down, their position looks bad,
the water’s running out, the ammunition is running out.
It’s tough. It’s grim. And then you hear it, just
faintly at first, but coming over the hill, that famous bugle
call. It’s the cavalry! I love that sound. God bless
those men in uniform! There they come, over the hill in their
freshly starched uniforms with their polished brass buttons
gleaming in the sun, the flags are unfurled, waving in the
breeze. It just gives me goose bumps. There they are – and
they will save us!
But I come to bring you news, news that not all of you have
fully understood. In this current season in the life of the
Church, there is no cavalry. They will not come. The bishop
is not the cavalry. The diocese is not the cavalry. The national
church is not the cavalry. This is a struggle that will be
engaged in at the local level. You will need to use your own
resources, giftedness and creativity, and you do not have time
to wait for someone to come over the hill and save you. Now
is the time to engage. And I want everyone to understand how
urgent is the time. We act sometimes as if we have all the
time in the world. “Well, you know, gosh . . . the parish
isn’t doing that great, but we’ll pull it out eventually,” we
sometimes say.
Well, you know what? Tic tock, brothers and sisters.
People are dying, people are hungry, people are without the
sustenance they need to make it through their lives, and we
have been given those gifts. We who have been entrusted with
this sacred treasure cannot hoard it for ourselves. In order
to have it, in order to truly possess it, we have to give it
all away.
Do you know the story of old Bob? Well, there was a wonderful
and dear man by the name of Bob. Bob was a bachelor farmer
and, as the saying goes, if it wasn’t for bad luck, Bob
would have no luck at all. After the tornado destroyed his
house, sure enough a fire claimed his barn, Bob only had two
processions he cared anything about left – his old pickup
truck, Wilbur, and his prize pig, LeRoy. He said, “It’s
really time for me to make a new start. I’ve had enough
bad luck in this place. I’m going to head up north. I’m
going to find me a whole new life.” So he put LeRoy in
the truck and went on down the highway until he came to a railroad
track. Sure enough, he got that truck with the pig in the back
right on the tracks. And the truck stalls. And sure enough,
here comes a train. He can’t get it started, so he jumps
out of the truck just as the train crashes into it and takes
his prize truck and his prize pig on down the tracks.
Bob was devastated. And he looked up and cried out to the
heavens, “God, God, why me?” And then there was
a light, and the clouds opened, and a voice came from heaven,
and the voice said, “I don’t know, Bob. There’s
just something about you that ticks me off.”
You know, sometimes it feels that way. Sometimes it feels
like God has been picking on us. Why our parish? Why our denomination?
Why our diocese?
By any measure this has been a difficult first year for rookie
bishops. I am in a class with some 12 other men who have been
elected in the past year to be bishops in their dioceses. I
have to say it has been a great privilege to be working alongside
these people who are also trying to figure out how to best
serve the Lord in their diocese, in their time and in their
circumstances.
But I am reminded of the story I have told some of you, and
I apologize for repeating it, but it struck me as one of those
stories that are truer than true. This summer my family and
I took a vacation, the great American road trip, and we went
across the west, we packed up everything in the car – Ellen
and William and me – and we headed to California. We
went down the coast of California and then made our way back
to Kansas. But one of the things I’ve always wanted to
do was see the San Diego Zoo. And if you have a 12-year-old
son, you can use him as an excuse. “Surely you want to
go to the zoo!” Well, he had no interest in the zoo,
but we drug him along anyway. I had seen Joan Embry for years
on the Tonight show, and I wanted to see the zoo. We have all
seen these animals on TV or in movies or video, but when you
actually see these beautiful creatures of God just up-close
and personal, it really is very moving.
I was particularly struck by the giraffes, and they had two
adult giraffes and a baby giraffe. They are so elegant and
graceful and much taller than I imagined. The guide said, “Would
you like to know how a baby giraffe is born?” And I said, “Yes,
I don’t know a thing about that.” And she said, “Well,
a baby giraffe is born by falling six feet from its mother’s
womb onto its head. And this breaks the umbilical cord, and
the force of the fall also gets the baby giraffe breathing.” And
I said, “Wow. That’s just like being made a bishop!” It’s
a six foot fall on the head which certainly gets the blood
going!
Well, we have had a challenging year, and we have had some
difficult losses in our diocese. The Reverend George Heller,
rector of Saint Philip’s, Topeka, died as I sat with
him on a cold December morning just before Christmas. And later
that same day Deacon Joe Thompson of the cathedral, who had
served the church so faithfully for so many decades, also died.
The Reverend Larry Valentine, a longtime rector in this diocese,
a member of the search committee and one of the first priests
I met here, died shortly after retiring from St. Andrew’s
in Emporia. We buried him on the campus of his beloved Nashotah
House. Douglass Ford, wife of the Reverend Denis Ford, rector
of Grace Church, Ottawa, and Glenn Hedquist, husband of Deacon
Annie Hedquist of St. Philip’s Topeka, died after long
and noble struggles with cancer this past month.
I recently read this letter from a bishop in which he wrote
about all the struggles which were happening,
“What is one to say to the disorders in the churches
. . . confusion has spread in every direction, and the clergy
have everywhere made insurrection against bishops, there has
been schism between bishop and bishop and bishop and people
and yet there will be more. Every place is suffering from the
throes of calamity and the subversion of the whole civilized
world. It has (even) become lawful for a person who desired
it to enter strange dioceses, so widely separated, and expel
those whom one wished to remove and do whatever they pleased
according to their own arbitrary power.”
That was Bishop John Chrysostom, the Bishop of Constantinople,
writing in 398, A.D. But it sounds familiar, doesn’t
it?
You need to know that in this diocese I still intend to lead
from the center. Not the middle, which implies a kind of political
designation. I’m not talking about being in the middle – you
know, they always say the guy who stands in the middle of the
road has a line painted up his back – I’m not talking
about being in the middle, I’m talking about trying to
stand in the center. Of trying to bring diverse constituencies
to the center where I believe Christ stands, always in our
midst, begging us to come and to gather and to be one.
Leading out of the center means that there will be some compromises.
Leading out of the center means that there will be points of
ambiguity. Leading out of the diverse center as our Presiding
Bishop calls it, I think most accurately, will require the
very best we have to offer, in times that strain the
very fabric of our church. And I promise to be, to the very
best of my ability, a non-anxious presence in the middle of
this great chaos.
I received a call yesterday from friends of mine in a diocese
that is struggling over decisions on whether or not to become
a part of the Anglican Network, and I really feel the pain
and the anger and the frustration in the voices from all sides
of the aisle.
Secondly, I will not give up the term “orthodoxy” to
anyone. We are part of the Episcopal Church, and I am proud
of our church. I don’t think our church is always right,
and I know a lot of people are really in pain over the decisions
that have been made recently. But I can’t help but believe
that Presbyterians and Methodists and Lutherans are looking
at our carving through what has not been explored, and I can’t
help but think they are somewhat envious, that at least we
have endeavored to do what God is calling us to do – to
deal with issues faithfully and openly and honestly. Dealing
with issues like that means we will have disagreements, but
dealing with issues like that means we will not have them crop
up in other ways, and we will not have them always kind of
hanging over us as an unaddressed issue in our life.
Yes, this has been a difficult year, but we have made some
wonderful gains. First of all, on a fun note, the Reverend
Kate Moorehead has given birth to a beautiful baby boy, and
I just think that is so wonderful that we have a member of
the clergy in this diocese who is so committed to evangelism!
Our “ding the deficit” campaign – what a
fun name for that – has enjoyed some success. More than
$80,000 has been raised, basically through one letter. We need
$120,000 more, and I pray we will achieve that goal.
I have to tell you, the last three checks I have received
have just tugged at my heart. I visited St. Timothy’s,
Iola, and I received a check for $408.15. I was at Calvary
Church, Yates Center, where they all put their change into
little “ding the deficit” cups, and I received
an aggregate check for $232.50. St. Mary’s, Galena yesterday
gave me a check for nearly $500. These gifts are truly the
widow’s mite. These are not large parishes, they are
not filled with people who are prosperous beyond measure. But
these are folks who understand what it is to be a part of a
community, who understand what it is to be connected one to
another. And there are lots of others. And I hate to mention
those there and forget to mention 40-some other congregations
that have done likewise.
We have planted lots of new seed. The committee structure
which had fallen into disuse and disrepair has been restarted,
and 13 new committees are now operating in the diocese, some
more productively than others. The Council of Trustees I believe
is operating in a more productive manner, and we are entering
an important second phase of our life together.
So what committees do we have? The Communications Committee
is led by Dave Seifert, an executive of Hallmark Cards, probably
one of the best people I could think of to lead a committee
dedicated to helping us better communicate with congregations.
You saw a little bit of their work yesterday if you attended
lunch in the main auditorium. The Stewardship Committee has
been led by Tom Gossen for so many years, and he has done an
incredible job, and we need to do some of our most important
work in this area.
It would be hard to talk about stewardship more than Jesus
does, as I am prone to repeat. One out of every five verses
in the Gospels has Jesus speaking about time, tithe or talent.
Let us not be confused. We will not accomplish any of the goals
we talk about unless we get this component of our spiritual
lives down. We need to move away from a “tipping” response
to Christ. “Pretty good service, here’s a couple
of bucks.” Stewardship must originate from the center
of our lives, and I hope this committee will help us focus
on that.
The Finance Committee led by Bob Skaggs – it is imperative
that we be good stewards of all that has been entrusted to
our care, and the faithful members of this committee have been
working hard.
There’s a Committee on Aging, chaired by the Reverend
Ruth McAleer. I have appointed two chaplains to minister to
the retired clergy and their spouses in this community; Mother
Ruth McAleer in the north and Father Peter Oesterlin in the
south.
Judy Nelson chairs our Community Life Committee, and you are
starting to see from this convention the fruits of their good
work. It is easy to get people together, but it’s harder
to knit people together in a genuine community. And I really
appreciate Judy’s passion for organizing us in ways that
help us achieve that kind of interconnectedness.
Andrew Pitts leads the Art and Architecture Committee – this
is a more crucial issue in that we have now the Fort Scott
parish open, and the disposal of that property, how we will
make good use of it. How we will be good stewards of a property
once it is no longer being used as a parish will be an important
issue for us to decide.
Tom Miles has been chairing the Liturgy and Music Committee,
and I think it is so important that we find new and creative
ways of worshipping together and share some innovative ideas
for music and liturgy. I wish you could go with me and
experience the diversity of this diocese, Sunday by Sunday – you
would be amazed that all of these churches are Episcopalian.
I rejoice in the diversity of that, and there are some wonderfully
creative things. And whenever I get kind of testy about some
of the services I attend, it’s always great to have a
12-year-old along who says, “That’s what I’m
talking about, Dad!”
The Commission on Ministry is being re-formed under the leadership
of Father Rob Lord, who did his doctoral work in this area,
and Christian formation to the priesthood is so important.
I think, I’ve been told but I haven’t confirmed
this, that I am the sixth youngest clergy person in this diocese.
Now that can’t continue. I’m not all that young!
We really need to get serious about calling qualified, gifted,
faithful young people into Holy Orders.
There’s a College and Young Adult Ministries Committee
meeting under Deacon Monte Giddings’ leadership. An Outreach
and Ecumenical Ministries Committee chaired by Bill Wood, Children
and Youth Ministries Committee led by Sue Crew, the Adult Formation
Committee, led by Mike Morrow – and they are doing some
wonderful things as they begin to get started with a full head
of steam.
We have a Special Projects/Vacation Bible School Committee
led by Tish Seeley. I’ll give this pitch to all of you,
that I have been saying in so many of your parishes. One week
of Vacation Bible School is the equivalent of an entire year
of Sunday School for a child. One week of Vacation Bible School,
some 40 hours of programming and Christian education, is just
wonderful. And if you do not have any children in your parish
to invite, then the light should go off. This is an opportunity
to offer these kinds of educational experiences to the children
in your community. And there are lots of parents who would
like to have the chance to send their children to be educated
in the Christian faith.
The Congregational Development Committee chaired by the dean,
Steve Lipscomb, is so important, because really so much of
what we have to do centers around congregational development.
After a series of electrical storms at Orange, New Jersey,
the vestrymen of a certain church there discussed the desirability
of placing lightening rods on the structure. Then they sought
Thomas Edison’s advice. Edison asked them what sort of
building it was. They said, “A church.” ”By
all means, put lightning rods on it,” said Edison. “You
know Providence is absentminded at times.” We need
to keep reminding Providence by our faithfulness.
I don’t know if our discussions yesterday in convention
were providential, and I don’t want to take advantage
of this pulpit – Peter Gomes once said, when he was preaching
at Trinity Church, that the pulpit had been placed “10
feet about contradiction.” But I have to say we are not
doing the kind of education, I have not done the kind of education
that needs to happen, for people to understand that mission
happens both at the diocesan level and the parish level. When
given a choice between the two, the answer is “Yes.” Yes,
ministry happens at the parish level, ministry and mission
happen when parishes become excited and involved and engaged,
but sometimes parishes can’t do that without the assistance
of the diocese, without additional educational resources, without
the prodding of the bishop, without the assistance of other
gifted leaders.
We are not congregationally designed. We sometimes act like
we are, and having served as vice-rector of one of the largest
churches in the United States, I know very well what it’s
like to say, “There’s really nothing you can provide
for us.” Speaking to the diocese, there’s not much
you really can do for us, what can we do for you?
Well, there is something that the diocese can do for every
congregation, and that is to link them and to remind them of
their connectedness to the family, to the body, that we are
all one in the Spirit and one in the Lord. And our ecclesiology,
the way our church is structured, does this better than almost
any denomination I can think of. We need to avoid congregationalism,
not because it’s wrong, but because it does not reflect
the particular gifts we bear as Episcopalians.
Now, what’s happening outside of the diocese? The diocese
next door is voting today on whether to affiliate with the
Network, there is a Lambeth Commission meeting, and they should
give us Monday a some 80-page report, a response to the church’s
decision to elect Gene Robinson as bishop of New Hampshire.
What I want to tell you is that throughout all of this, throughout
every bit of it, we need to remain focused. All of these things
will be in the papers, all of these things will be at our doorstep,
and yet most of them are kind of a seduction, an attraction
away from the work we need to be doing in our parishes.
We need to get focused on children. Look at the age of this
gathering. How much childcare did we need today? It does not
take a rocket scientist to figure out that we need to be more
focused on children, radically focused on children. It is not
lost on me that after the Titanic had hit that fatal iceberg,
and the ship was going down, there were still waiters arranging
the deck chairs on that lost vessel. Some of our work that
is not oriented to reaching to this next generation is like
rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. And I cannot be
more blunt than that. Children are not just the future, they
are our today. And Jesus knew very well what he was doing when
he said, “Suffer not the little children and let them
come unto me.” And, “You will not enter the kingdom
of heaven unless you can become like that child.”
Children and youth – youth are such an important priority,
at such a crucial point in the formation of their identity.
I think of when I was 14 and 15 and 16, and how I was formed
by being a part of a Christian community, and how I was formed
by having adults who weren’t my parents who kind of looked
in on me and asked constantly, “How you doin’?
How you doin’?” How you doin’?
Outward and visible signs. I believe the smell of new sawdust
and fresh paint is like fragrant incense in the nostrils of
God. Peeling paint, rusting metal, worn wood – these
are the signs of death and decay, and I must tell you, my brothers
and sisters in Christ, they are everywhere in this diocese.
We don’t want to show off, look like we’ve got
too much money, if everything is kind of neatly painted and
cared for. But you know what? It doesn’t work. People
are coming to our parishes, and they are wondering, “Are
we still alive?” No flags fly, no lights are lit, no
signs direct to people – we’ve got to change this.
We’ve got to change this.
Do not tell me you are serious about spreading the good news
of Jesus Christ to your community if you do not have any signs
to lead people to your parish church. Do not tell me you want
to grow your church if you do not make it easier for visitors
to come to you. Do not tell me you value your worship space
as sacred if it is not well-cared for.
When did we become the people of I can’t, we couldn’t,
they didn’t, if only?
Now people periodically ask me when I’m in these cranky
moments, “Are you OK? Are you tired? Is this wearing
you down?” I am not tired. I am absolutely determined – do
you hear me? – I am absolutely determined that we are
not going to continue down the path that we have been on, not
as a church, not as a diocese. I am determined we are going
to stop the decay and stop the losses and begin to be vibrant
about Christ in our lives. We are going to become authentic
messengers of the Word. And some of us who have been thinking
that if people are just really smart they will find their way
to the Episcopal Church – you know, kind of our little
inside secret – we’re going to have to change that
way of being.
Outside of our state, Kansans have the reputation of being
straight shooters, honest, practical, dependable, faithful
people. I find now that telling people I’m from Kansas
usually elicits a warm response. If most of us aren’t
products of the bright lights of the big city, we have been
blessed by a more spiritual connection to the sky and to the
land.
The history of the church in this diocese is a history of
struggle, crisis, dissent, disagreement, and yes, it is also
a history of blessed assurance, love, faithfulness and grace.
There are some who would like to whitewash the past, who remember
a history which has been conveniently cleansed of all that
is difficult, untoward, ambiguous or offending. They forget
the tradition which we’ve inherited is diverse at its
very core: holy and unholy, sacred and offensive. God has continued
to use what we would have cast away as useless. “A scandal
to the Jews and a stumbling block to the Greeks.”
Planting a seed, making a difference. That is exactly what
we are about. And I tell you, there is no greater vocation,
there is no more sacred cause. If you are looking for meaning
in your life, you have only to look to the opportunity each
of us has to share with someone what Christ’s presence
has meant to you in your life. Haven’t you been broken?
Haven’t you been hurt? Haven’t you been desperate?
Haven’t you just been lost? And didn’t you find
your way back? And wasn’t it, in part, because you were
a part of the community of faith where people loved you, embraced
you, dusted you off and put you back together again? Didn’t
they pray for you? Didn’t they come visit you? And what
would it have been like if they had not?
We have been given this treasure . . . but if we never take
it out of the package . . . if we fail to plant it, if we fail
to place it where it can grow, it will be worthless. Nothing
but dust, dead seed.
Frederick Buechner wrote in his book, The Alphabet of
Grace,
“The alphabet of grace is full of sibilants – sounds
that can’t be shouted but only whispered: the sounds
of bumblebees and wind and lovers in the dark, of whitecaps
hissing up flat over the glittering sand and cars on wet roads,
of crowds hushed in vast and vaulted places, the sound of your
own breathing. I believe that in sibilants life is trying to
tell us something. The trees, ghosts, dreams, faces, the waking
up and eating and working of life, are trying to tell us something,
to take us somewhere. If this is above all a Christ-making
universe, then the place where we are being taken is the place
where the silk purse is finally made out of the sow’s
ear, and the word that life is trying to speak to is that little
by little, squealing and snuffling all the way, a pig either
starts turning into at least the first primal, porcine version
of a hero, or else is put out of its piggish misery. At the
heart of reality – who would have guessed it? – there
is a room for dying and being born again.” (p.
50. The Alphabet of Grace, Frederick Buechner)
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Spirit. Amen.
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