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SERMONS
The
Last Sunday after the Epiphany
February 22, 2004
Today's
second lesson, from Paul's letter to the Corinthians, is a familiar
one. Most of us are probably most familiar with it in association
with weddings, where it is a popular lesson.
And
rightly so. For Paul's discussion of the nature of love and its
importance-indeed its centrality-for us as Christians is a very
appropriate reminder on such occasions, as two people stand before
the community and vow to love one another as husband and wife for
the remainder of their lives.
For
this reason, most of us have happy associations with these words
of Paul. When we hear them we think of lovely spring days, of beautifully
decorated churches, of radiant brides and joyful tears and big cakes
and lots of food and talk and music and celebration. How wonderful
we think. What fitting words for such a glorious occasion.
But
that is not how Paul's original audience would have heard them.
They were not written to mark a celebration. The church in Corinth
to whom Paul wrote was deeply conflicted. They were fighting over
matters of food, they were fighting over matters of hospitality,
they were fighting over questions of sexual morality.
These
words on love were written as a pointed rebuke to this church that
had seemingly forgotten how to love. Paul's concern is for the life
of the community.
It
doesn't matter how much I know, Paul says. It doesn't matter how
well I speak. It doesn't matter how smart I am. It doesn't matter
how strong my faith is. It doesn't matter how right I am.
If
I am unable to love my brothers and sisters, nothing else that I
am or think or do matters. It is totally worthless. Everything else,
Paul says, will come to an end. Everything else, Paul says, is incomplete.
Everything else, Paul says, is relative.
Only
love abides. Only love endures. Only love will never end.
As
our Paul mentioned in his sermon last week, and as is apparent in
much that is written and many conversations, our church today is
deeply divided. Many committed, faithful Christians hold strong
and widely divergent views over some issues of human sexuality and
appropriate qualifications for positions of leadership in this church.
Some
are in great sorrow because of certain decisions that the church
has made, nationally and here in our diocese of Mississippi. Others,
it must be said, completely agree with those decisions, even here
in our own parish.
In
such times the command to love can seem difficult, if not impossible.
At such times it may seem that those things that divide are so much
greater than those things that unite us.
But
remember, brothers and sisters-dearly beloved-you have been bought
with a price. You are here because God made you and God loves you
and God has called you here. It may very well be that God has placed
us here for just such a time as this.
Notwithstanding
the significance of our disagreements … Notwithstanding the depth
of our sorrow … Notwithstanding our disappointment at decisions
that were made or not made … Our call today is to love one another-to
be patient with one another, to be kind, to bear, to believe, to
hope, to endure. To work for reconciliation and the building up
of this community.
In
three days it will be Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. The
gospel for this last Sunday after the Epiphany is Luke's account
of the Transfiguration, of that moment, as Jesus turned his face
toward Jerusalem and his coming passion, in which the curtains of
this world were stripped away and his disciples saw him as he truly
is, shining with the glory of the father.
Brothers
and sisters, that image which Peter and James and John saw that
day, that imprint of the glory of God shining forth, is stamped
on each of you. Granted for some of us at some times it can be difficult
to see. But that is who you are, daughters and sons of God, bearing
God's image, brothers and sisters of Christ and heirs of the kingdom
of heaven.
As
we begin this forty-day journey of preparation for our celebration
of the Paschal Mystery, let me invite you-let me invite us- to do
two things.
First,
lay down your burdens at the foot of the cross. Offer up to God
whatever cares or sorrow or pain or disappointment you are bearing.
Offer them up to our Lord and seek the Lord's healing and consolation.
And
second, think of that person, in this community or in the broader
community, in whom it is most difficult for you to recognize God's
image, the one you will have the most problem sitting next to at
the great marriage feast of the lamb. And pray for that person daily.
Pray that that person will know of God's love. Pray that that person
will be richly blessed by God. And pray that God may use that person
to bless you.
Beloved,
God is not yet done with us. At the end of our Lenten journey there
stands a cross. But beyond that cross there is an empty tomb, and
the joy of the resurrection.
As
for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will
cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only
in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes,
the partial will come to an end. When I was a child, I spoke like
a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I
became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in
a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only
in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.
And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest
of these is love.
David
Christian
The Chapel of the Cross
Madison, Mississippi
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