Sunday, July 3, 2022

4 Pentecost


July 3, 2022

Luke 10.1-11, 16-20

+ This past Thursday I did a wedding on LaSalle Lake near Itasca.


Deacon John assisted at the wedding, since he was close friends with the bride.


I also decided to take a few days for myself, so I stayed in the area for a while.


And, like many of you, when I drive, I think.


I think a lot.


I found myself thinking about the fact that, for most of my entire career as a priest, I have always felt like an outsider.


Outside the norm in the larger Church.


This past week on a Facebook friend of mine posted that it was his anniversary of ordination to he priesthood.


And he began his post in a wonderful way.


He wrote: “I give grateful thanksgiving for The Right Reverend So-and-So who ordained my to the Priesthood on this day in 1989.”


I loved that.


But I was also saddened by that.


Because, I realized, I would never be able to write that.


The Bishop who ordained me blocked me recently on Facebook.


I’m not even making that up.


It seems my entire ministry, for the most part, has been a ministry under rebellion of some sort.


And not a conscious rebellion.


I really have wanted just to be normal, to get through, to have just a nice, ministry without ruffling feathers.


But sometimes, there are just people who by their very presence ruffle feathers.


I am one of those people, I guess.


And for a long time I really hated that.


I fought it.


I tried hard to just be a normal priest doing a normal ministry just like my normal colleagues.


But even then, some innocent comment of mine was taken out of context and I was in hot water with a Dean or a Bishop or a fellow priest.


And my wrists would be slapped, or my sermons were corrected or being denied promotions in the Church.


Now, I’m not saying I’m sweet and innocent.


Not by any sense of the word.


I have a big mouth.


And I speak out.


Let’s face it, I don’t put my flame under a bushel.


I guess that’s threatening some people.


I say things I later regret.


But the level of ostracization I have often felt in the Church is deep, much deeper than a priest with a smart mouth deserves at times.


I have been THAT priest for so long—that rebel priest, that upstart priest, that priest who swam consistently against the stream--that lone wolf priest--that I don’t know how to be a different priest.


I’ll confess—and I am somewhat ashamed to do so—but I have gotten used to being the lone wolf.


I’ve developed some thick, thick skin in my career.


But still, sometimes, the barbs cut deeper than any thick skin.


And sometimes even lone wolf priests bleed.


But even then, he can still howl!


Now, I’m not romanticizing lone wolf ministry by any means.


Lone wolf ministry can be very dangerous behavior.


We really shouldn’t do ministry and be a lone wolf.


Doing ministry means doing it together.


And I know: by saying just that I am sounding kinda like a hypocrite here.


For any of you who know me and worked with me for any period of time, you know I’ve just done lone wolf behavior about many things.


Some may call it lone wolf.


I guess I always called it being independent.  


Or maybe, sometimes, just impatient.


Things have to get done after all.


And, when they do, you know, I’ll just do it.


But, being a lone wolf is not a good thing.


In the Church it is never a good thing to be a lone wolf.


None of us can do ministry alone.


We all need to admit that we need each other to do effective ministry.


And sometimes even the lone wolf admits that simple fact: I can’t do this alone.


The lone wolf sometimes has to seek help from others.


Ultimately, the lone wolf can be a bad thing for the church for another reason though.


Lone wolves can easily be led down that ugly, slippery slope of believing, at some point, that  it’s all about them.


Now, I want to make clear: I never have believed that anything is about just me.


I despise that kind of thinking in myself.


I have never felt that way.


For all my lone wolf tendencies, I have a pretty good support system around me—people who will very quickly tell me when they think I might be heading down that slippery egocentric slope.


And when they don’t, God does.


I’m regularly put in my place.


There is, after all, a difference, I have discovered between “lone wolf” behavior and ego-centric, it’s-all-about-me, I-don’t-need-anyone’s-help behavior.


And as you all know, I have no problem asking your advice and your opinions on anything before some of the things I’ve done as the Rector of St. Stephen’s.


I might not necessarily heed those suggestions.


But I appreciate them, and they are, for the most part, helpful.


But, I have known too many church leaders who have not had a support system like mine.


I have known too many church leaders who have  made it clear to me that it was because of them—because their winning personality, or their knowledge of church growth, or their years of expertise—that a particular parish or diocese flourished.


It’s an unfortunate trap leaders in the Church fall into when they believe that a congregation’s success depends on them as individuals and their own abilities of ministry—and, mind you, I am not just talking about priests here. Lay leaders in the Church have fallen into this trap as well. I have known some of those lay leaders as well, trust me.  

Maybe to some extent it’s true.


Maybe some people do have the personality and the winning combination in themselves to do it.  


But for those who may have that kind of natural personality, I still have to admit: it all  makes me wary.


It’s just too slippery of a slope.


We are dealing with similar personalities in today’s Gospel.


In our Gospel reading for today, those seventy that Jesus chose and sent out come back amazed by the gift of blessing God had granted to them and their personalities.


They exclaim, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!”


In and of its self, that’s certainly not a bad thing to say.


It’s a simple expression of amazement.   


But Jesus—in that way that Jesus does—puts them very quickly in their place.  


He tells them, “do not rejoice in these gifts, but rejoice rather that your names are written in heaven.”


Or to be more blunt, he is saying rejoice not in yourselves and the things you can do with God’s help, but rejoice rather in God.


The burden of bringing about the Kingdom of God shouldn’t be solely the individual responsibly of any one of us.  


Even Jesus made that clear for himself.


Just imagine that stress in having to bring that about.  


Bringing the Kingdom of God into our midst is the responsibility of all of us together.  


It is the responsibility of those who have the personality to bring people on board and it is the responsibility of those of us who do not have that winning personality.

For those of us who do not have that kind of personality, it is our responsibility to bring the Kingdom about in our own ways.


We do so simply by living out our Christian commitment.


As baptized followers of Jesus, we bring the Kingdom into our midst simply:


By Love.


We do it by loving God and loving each other as God loves us in whatever ways we can in our lives.

 Bringing the Kingdom of God about in our midst involves more than just preaching from a pulpit or attending church on Sunday.


Spreading the Kingdom of God is more than just preaching on street corners or knocking on the doors. 


It means living it out in our actions as well.


It means living out our faith in our every day life.


It means loving God and each other as completely and fully as we can.


But it does not mean loving ourselves to the exclusion of everything else.


It means using whatever gifts we have received from God to bring the Kingdom a bit closer.  


These gifts—of our personality, of our vision of the world around us, of our convictions and beliefs on certain issues—are what we can use.


It means not letting our personalities—no matter how magnetic and appealing they might be—to get in the way of following Jesus.


Our eyes need to be on God.


We can’t be doing that when we’re busy preening in the mirror, praising ourselves for all God does to us and through us.   


The Church does not exist for own our personal use.  


I, for example, am not your free therapist.


And the Church is not you group therapy.


If we think the Church is there so we can get some nice little pat on the back for all  the good we’re doing, or as an easy way to get us into heaven when we die, then we’re in the wrong place.


And we’re doing good for the wrong intention.


The Church is ideally the conduit through which the Kingdom of God comes into our midst.


And it will come into our midst, with or without me as individual.


But it will come into our midst through us.


All of us.




The Church is our way of coming alongside Jesus in his ministry to the world.


In a very real sense, the Church is our way to be the hands, the feet, the voice, the compassion, the love of God to this world and to each other.


But it’s all of us.


Not just me.


Not just you as an individual.


It’s all of us.




Working together.


Loving together.


Serving together.


And giving God the ultimate credit again and again.


Hopefully, in doing that, we do receive some consolation ourselves.  


Hopefully in doing that, we in turn receive the compassion and love of God in our own lives as well.


But if we are here purely for our own well-being and not for the well-being of others, than it is does become only about us and not about God.  


And in those moments, we are sounding very much like those 70 who come back to Jesus exclaiming, “look at what we have done!”

The message of today’s Gospel is that it must always be about God.


It must always be about helping that Kingdom of God break through into this selfish world of huge egos. It means realizing that when we are not doing it for God, we have lost track of what we’re doing. We have lost sight of who we are following.


So, let us—together—be the hands, the feet, the voice, the compassion and the love of God in the world around us. Like those 70, let us be amazed at what we can do in Jesus’ name.


But more importantly let us rejoice!




Rejoice this morning!


Rejoice in the fact that your name, that my name—that our names are written at this moment in heaven.


Let us pray.


Holy and loving God, we thank you this morning. We rejoice in the fact that in this moment our names, known to you, are written in heaven, and that we are headed toward the goal you set. Keep us on the right path, following Jesus where we must go and doing what we must do; We ask this in Jesus’ Name. Amen.  






No comments:

9 Pentecost

  August 7, 2022 Luke 12:32-40   + I hate to even say this.   I really don’t want to say this.   But…it’s already starting ...