Sermon for the Episcopal Church of St John the Baptist, Capitola,
given by Rev. Eliza Linley/April 22, 2007
The Episcopal Church of Saint John the Baptist welcomes all to worship God and to share
Christ's love in the world. We are a parish family committed to provide liturgy, Bible study, music, counseling, and Christian education for children, youth, and adults, and to equip all our members for life and for service to other
As Christians we come together on Sunday to hear the word of God. Not, I suspect, so much to have our lives transformed, but gather strength to face whatever muddle we’re in, and to make sense of the world we live in. Today we bask in the reflected light of Laurel’s ordination to the priesthood yesterday, that she has become an official fisher of souls - and that it happened right here among us, not in some cathedral far away. We celebrate Earth Day, and give thanks to be a part of the glorious creation that God has given us, and we to it. We give thanks for the great gift of responsibility toward our planet, and we do this in the light of increased evidence of global warming from a consensus of 140 nations of the UN, informed by a study carried out by over 250 climatologists worldwide. And, oh yes, we remember the lives of thirty-three people who died in the worst mass shooting in US history. How exactly does Scripture help us make sense of all if this together?
At dawn Jesus stands on the beach over a cookfire, unnoticed. He calls out a greeting, or is it a challenge? “Not getting many fish, are you?” No, they are not. Transformed by the Resurrection, are they out winning souls? Converting the multitudes? They are not. They’re fishing, as they have always done. You gotta eat, right? How long did it take for Easter to become real for them: for Thomas, who doubted, for the others, who shut the doors? However long it took, it is clear they haven’t got the message yet. But after Easter you can’t just go back to fishing and have it be the way it was. It simply doesn’t work anymore. Jesus tells them to try the other side. They do, and are nearly swamped by the load of fish. Coming ashore, Jesus is cooking his own fish to feed them breakfast, just as he has always fed them out of his own substance. But now they add their fish to his, and they eat together. Soon, we understand, they will be feeding others with the bread of life. As Jesus says to Peter, “Feed my sheep.” All of this happens, not so much by word as by example: experiential learning. We come together to share the broken bread of life and the cup that gives us strength so that we can pass it on to a hurting world.
Laurel is ordained from among us but the liturgy makes it clear that it doesn’t let the rest of us off the hook. She is to be an example, to equip the saints (that’s us) for the work of ministry and the building up of Christ’s body. It is THE BAPTIZED who are called to make Christ known as Savior and Lord, and to share in the renewing of his world. Priests are simply “Exhibit A” of experiential learning, packaged and labeled, as Robert Capon says, for easy reference. Thank God our ministries are different! Is it more Christian to teach Bible study or to fight global warming? To make communion bread or to try to make contact with a disaffected young adult? To keep the church looking like we care or to cook for Habitat for Humanity workers? Or to lobby for stronger gun control? Some people keep the church running, and some are so busy out doing ministry that we hardly see them. That is not wrong. God blesses it all, and knows that no one of us can do it all, something that we ourselves are tempted to forget. Our ministries are finite. To pretend otherwise is to put ourselves in the place of God, and that’s idolatry. Transformation through encounter with the Risen One, for most of us, involves an ongoing process of conversion, and remembering who we are, and who we are not.
Meeting Jesus is not always a beach picnic. The account of Saul’s conversion takes us to a strange and terrifying psychic country. Peter and Paul both came from a culture where the reward for beholding the face of God was death. Maybe Saul of Tarsus expected to die right then and there. He was not killed, but stricken blind by the experience, unable to eat or drink for three days. As he later put it, he died only to himself. Short-term reactions of shock and fear - for him or us - might have something to do with the intuition that life will never be the same again. In a matter of moments the course one’s life - changed for ever. Paul was committed, through this brief encounter, to a life of suffering and joy, of sacrifice and delight.
He was the product of a violent age. Stonings and beatings were common, part of the status quo in a pluralistic society where peace and justice were often at odds. Part of his unknowing journey toward conversion was to have been present as Stephen was stoned to death while witnessing to Jesus. Saul thought it was a good thing. He was a Pharisee and the son of a Pharisee, part of the backbone of society, the defenders of law and order. He saw the followers of the Way as a threat to stability in a society which could ill afford it. Death by stoning? Regrettable, perhaps, but necessary to prevent the spread of lawless disobedience. Indeed, the experience so moved him that he became a sort of religious vigilante, tracking down Christians and sending them to prison.
The defense of law and order is a traditional channel for the frustration of those who see society falling apart at the seams. Gun ownership laws haven’t changed because Americans say they want to protect themselves against criminals. And yet, the statistics resulting from all this firepower are stunning. In all U.S. wars of the 20th century, 659,763 people died in combat. But between Reagan’s first election and George Bush’s second (that’s between 12981 and 2004), 768,000 people died in this country by gunshot. Of 26 developed nations around the world, 83% of those who die by firearms die in the US. These statistics are from Mark Shields on Friday’s Lehrer News Hour, but they seem worth mentioning, in that reliance on violence begets violence. Running the video of an angry, lonely man-child who murdered 32 people does not build up the body of Christ or the body of society.
On April 20, 1999, Craig Scott was in the library of Columbine High School when Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold gunned down his fellow students right before his eyes. His sister, Rachel, was one of the first to die.
Today, Craig travels across the country and speaks to thousands of teens every month about the importance of fostering "an atmosphere of kindness and compassion" in classrooms to stop school violence.
Craig, on Wednesday’s Oprah, urged Virginia Tech and the media covering the story to avoid focusing on the negative. "It's really easy to look back and see … the warning signs, and you can study all the things that the shooter left behind and you can try to say, 'Why didn't we see this coming? The big concern that I have is the attention and focus that's put on the shooter. [Reports say], 'It's the most bloody, the biggest, the record…' and records can be broken. And I have found students that actually idolize the two shooters at Columbine."
Instead, he urges everyone to focus on the positive. "Where you choose to focus immediately is very important. What you're going to choose to spend your time thinking about," he says. "We've focused on my sister, Rachel, who's so compassionate and kind. And that's the opposite of that anger and hatred."
Darrell Scott, Craig and Rachel's father, says everyone has the power to make the choice of where to focus their attention in times of crisis. For example, he says, "Craig made a choice to make a difference."
Together, Darrell and Craig run Rachel's Challenge, a group dedicated to stopping school violence. "We lead challenges from dealing with prejudice to reaching out to that lone kid in the cafeteria and reporting when there is something out of the ordinary," Darrell says. "And we've seen incredible lives touched and changed."
When there are kids who are alone and angry, Craig says it's important to combat the negativity with love. "It's going to take … a heart connection to bring him back to human touch. And that's what we try to do and try to bring a real story in," Craig says. "And I hope that the families at Virginia Tech … have 33 wonderful stories of beautiful people and beautiful memories and stories to hold onto."
The family of Seung-Hui Cho have issued a statement of abject apology in which they say they feel hopeless, helpless, and lost. Who will reach out to them?
As Christians, we are storytellers. We live by the power of a great narrative. And we have the power to translate that story, Jesus’ story, Peter and Paul’s stories, our story, into words and actions of hope that everyone can understand. Each one of our ministries is a version of that story, our own understanding of “that wonderful and sacred mystery [where things] that were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and all things are being brought to their perfection by…Jesus Christ our Lord.
