Sermons by Bishop Paul V. Marshall
Safe to dare anything for Christ...
Helping People and Raising their Threshold of Pain
Celebration of New Ministry of Good Shepherd Church, Scranton,
with their rector, Eric Bergman
Bishop Paul V. MarshallThe people of Good Shepherd, their Bishop, and the community at Diocesan House have waited a long time for this day. But some things are worth waiting for, and all and sundry know by now that a good match has been made between an enthusiastic and deeply pious priest and a parish poised to blossom in a city that presents many opportunities for ministry.
The ministries of proclamation and sacramental celebration that are borne by Fr. Eric are paradoxical, as we see when we put the lessons that he has chosen side by side. On the one hand all that he does is about putting us in touch with the Christ who loves us, binds our wounds, bears our sins, and leads us to fullness of life now and for ever. On the other hand, as the epistle pleads, all that he does is to form, urge, and encourage us to function as Christ's arms and legs in the world, offering our lives to God in grateful response to our salvation, and as part of that salvation. For it is in giving that we receive, and in dying that we are born to eternal life. You can't have one without the other.
Christianity is the only religion I know about where the priests are also supposed to be prophets, and that makes being a rector a joy and a cross all at once. Rectors have the job of comforting people--and of helping people raise their threshold of pain, so that they have a spirituality tough enough to be of some use to God.
To believe in Christ is one thing, to follow him is another. To be with the sick, the poor, the marginalized, the confused rich, and even with enemies as the calm, persistent expression of God's will for creation is following Jesus. It is also what scripture means when it calls us to WORK OUT our salvation with fear and trembling -- the world needs us and we need to be faithful.
We face all this calmly for the same reason that someone who has been drowned is no longer fearful of making a sea voyage: Christ has died and Christ is risen--we are not only saved, we are safe. Safe to dare anything for Christ, whether it means becoming the one kind person where we work, or standing up to the evils that crush human life in the world around us.
The very center of this consecrated life is the eucharist, and it is the center of Fr. Eric's ministry. Everything flows into and out of it. We recognize ourselves as we take the trouble to assemble, perhaps after struggling with the kids or trying to find a parking place--we recognize ourselves as the assembled body of Christ, a little ragtag, a little distracted, perhaps not so elegantly dressed, but the assembled body of Jesus Christ, gathered in the presence of God the Father in the power of the Holy Spirit. We sing our praises, we hear ancient wisdom and contemporary preaching. We pray for the world and ourselves, trusting all that life brings to God. We exchange the peace -- hands gnarled by arthritis, years of hard work; mothers' hands sticky with peanut butter or students' hands sweaty with anxiety about next week's crisis; hands reach out of private space across boundaries of all sorts and we touch, we touch people and share the peace of Christ. If we can pay attention, we can feel the nail holes in each hand, if just for a second.
And then the most marvelous thing happens. God invites us to bring symbols of ourselves and of creation, gifts of bread and wine and hard cold cash, all ways of saying "take us, Lord, take us for your glory and your service."
The astounding thing is that God does, notwithstanding what may be our hesitation or our stinginess. Angels and archangels and all the hosts of heaven chime in, and in the great thanksgiving that follows, God receives our gifts and gives them back transformed, set ablaze as the body of Christ and his most precious blood. Our small sacrifice is enmeshed and enfolded in the eternal offering of our Great High Priest. Then he feeds us and sends us out to be what we eat.
You at Good Shepherd have left your altar facing liturgical east, and there are a couple of other churches in the diocese that have done so as well. I'm not going to interfere with that, but on one condition. The condition is that you remember, remember in the fullest sense, that the priest doesn't "have his back to you," but that you are all praying in the same direction, the direction of offering God praise, thanksgiving, and your lives as together you celebrate the mysteries of the Body and Blood of Christ. And I believe I can trust you on that. I'll know what's going on in here by what's going on out there.
Well, that's the introduction to the sermon. Today, gathered in the assembly of God's people, we are here to welcome Fr. Eric Bergman and to recognize his responsibility to stand at the middle of all I've described, being what scripture calls a "steward of the mysteries," the good scribe who brings out treasures old and new.
Because the central truth of our religion is a paradox -- Christ's triumph by dying on a cross -- there are other paradoxes that follow. I have known Eric since he began his seminary training; Mother Romeril had him in confirmation class; his siblings and friends from Nativity knew him before that. His parents know a time when he was not. Christina knows him with his collar off and his feet up, watching the history channel.
But it is also true that we don't know him, and it is important to remember that. In each good priest's soul there burns a love for God's people and their mission that cannot be put into words; it can only be expressed in action and in presence, a peculiar spirituality that is not necessarily better than others, but one that is different. Remember in Mark's gospel how Jesus' mother and 4 brothers and 2 sisters thought he was nuts and tried to shut him up? That story is in the Bible for a reason.
Eric is one of our own in the Diocese of Bethlehem, but we do not presume to know him. Anyone you can always predict has stopped thinking, and that is not the case here. Beyond that, there will be very lonely moments when a leader must stand alone, leaning only on Christ. Eric will die to us a little at those moments, and we must let him. A sword may pierce his mother's heart; he may stand away from colleagues; he may have his moment on a very public cross. Perhaps not. Who knows? But in any event, we do have to let him be who God calls him to be.
Fortunately, despite his relative youth, Fr. Eric is not young enough to know everything. One of the good things about the Episcopal Church is that we preserve apostolic order AND encourage all the baptized to bear testimony to their dreams and visions as the Holy Spirit gives them. A rector's job includes keeping all the faithful in community and communication. It is a sin against community to withhold our dreams and insights, and to pretend that "Father knows best," which really means, we don't want to risk conversation.
Leaders do have to decide in many case, but they have to know what there is to decide about. If we are going to support the rector, we are going to have to talk to him, sharing our fears and our most precious dreams. All of this is essential because I know of no parish of any denomination that could as a group become more spiritually mature than their leader. Before all else, the leader must embody the goals of the community.
Wardens and vestry, please make sure that your rector doesn't get trapped in being busy: insist that he observe our canons about quiet days, retreats, and spiritual direction -- for the sake of the parish as well as his soul.
A last paradox, my brother. Don't try to be beloved -- that only means selling out. Don't try to be beloved and you will be. Don't make your goal filling this place, and God will. Don't be so reserved that people think you are a sacrament, but still shoot for six parts Melchizedek to one part Monty Hall, and God will make you a blessing to many.
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