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Sermons
by Bishop Paul V. Marshall
The
Oil of Gladness
Sermon, Bishop Paul Marshall, Diocese of Bethlehem
Chrism Mass, March 24, St. Stephen's Pro Cathedral, Wilkes-Barre
Joshua 1:7-9
Psalm 43
2 Corinthians 4:1-6
Luke 24:44-49a
In most dioceses what we do today is a clergy-only event. In my time
with
you I have chosen a different route for this liturgy, so let me first
thank
all of you for being here as we bless the oils we use together, and
for
being here with your clergy as they renew their vows. Week-in and week-out
our priests and deacons remind us of the centrality of the ministry
that we
all share in baptism; they stand with us in the joys and tragedies
of our
lives. So it is a good thing for us to stand with them this one time
in the
year and affirm them and their commitment to serve God's Church-to
serve us.
I am particularly grateful for your presence because in my somewhat
lengthy
trip home from Towanda last night I noticed what looked like snow in
several
parts of the diocese. Thank you for making the statement that we always
make
when we accept inconvenience: what we are doing here today is important,
and
the people with whom we do it are important.
Earlier this month, at a meeting down in Maryland a priest from another
part
of the country used the expression, "the good diocese" when
referring to our
life together here in NE Pennsylvania. Needless to say he got my attention,
and I quizzed him a bit about what made our ways seem good to him.
High on
his list were his perception that the clergy here work at getting along,
and
that they support each other. I have to agree-colleagues, I value and
am
grateful for your presence here and at our other gatherings because
of the
support you bring just by showing up for each other and wisdom you
carry
into our discussions. Showing up for others is an act of incarnational
theology on the deepest level, an act that no amount of words can replace.
Tom Erich wrote after our Lenten retreat of his deep respect for you
and
your commitment to your ministry and each other. I should add that
I am
deeply grateful for the concern you have shown for those of our colleagues
in the diocese who have suffered tragic loss in the last year: it is
a
witness to the reality of what you profess that you have cared for
them.
I ask your prayers today for our colleague John Harvard, who lies gravely
ill. I'm sure he would love to know of your concern.
That said, let's look at what is going here: there is a mixture of
textures
and events in this liturgy that models our life as a church - and let
me start
at the end. Normally we don't do anything after receiving Holy Communion
but
say thanks and leave with our without a hymn; after all, you don't
upstage
the presence of Christ. Today, however, our final piece of liturgy
is the
blessing of the chrism, the fragrant oil that the ancient church called
the
oil of Gladness, and we use it at baptism and at liturgies that renew
baptismal vows through confirmation, reception or reaffirmation. The
directions on the bottles Fr. Frank Sefchick has so carefully labeled
say:
"Do NOT use sparingly - always take internally." Chrism is
for us the symbol
of God's desire to drench the each of us with life marked by joy, wonder,
and power in the Holy Spirit. Jesus' other name, Christ, means God's
anointed, and we are the beneficiaries of his anointed with God's spirit
at
his baptism. And ours: what the Chrism represents quite literally crowns
our
lives. -- So much of what we do can bring us down or seem so futile:
it
helps enormously to remember the spirit of joy and wonder, of courage
and
commitment that drenched Jesus is running down our cheeks too. Do NOT
use it
sparingly: it is the key to everything else. Take internally; all of
the
time.
As our epistles insists, we can keep the focus on Christ, because our
hearts
have been set ablaze with the light of the glory of God in Jesus Christ.
The
motivation for ministry starts and ends there. An essential duty of
our
office is the maintenance of joy in Christ. Otherwise it is just a
job.
Every Christian is called hear Jesus' prayer that "my joy might
be in you,"
and we who bear the symbols of the church are called to pay it special
attention. It is of course risky to open one's self enough to be loved
so
deeply by Jesus that joy can happen, but it is the risk to which we
are
called on a daily basis when we recall that the spiritual joy of the
parishes we serve cannot exceed our own. Renewal isn't optional equipment:
it's part of the job. Our sisters and brothers in Kajo-Keji have both
survived and thrived because they keep their level of joy in the Lord
quite
high.
Joy is closely related to vision. I shared with some of you last fall
my
encounter with a professor at Virginia Seminary whose work over two
decades
has taught him that by their second year of preparation for ordination,
students typically lose the vision that got them into that preparation
in
the first place. Some of you with whom I shared that observation agreed
emphatically. So let me say more publicly and with the cloud of witness
that
surrounds us here today, that it is fundamental to our personal survival
and
to the well-being of the parishes we serve that we maintain, renew,
and
celebrate our corporate and personal vision of how we follow Jesus
Christ.
One teacher recommends that twice a year we force ourselves to preach
an "I
have a dream" kind of sermon so that everybody is clear about
what motivates
and guides us - starting with ourselves. After all, it is the open
statement
of the truth that we are about, St. Paul says, that commends us to
the
conscience of others.
For me, who tends to feel the weight of things, the most important
ingredient in maintaining vision is the last line in each of the three
lessons you heave heard this morning. What those lessons have in common
is
the assertion that ultimately one's courage come from the presence
of God,
who reaches to us in word and sacrament, who holds us when we groan
in
prayer, who seeks us when we want to hide in our pain, and whose spirit
is
so wonderfully present in our community. Practicing the presence of
God
through the disciplines of prayer, liturgy, and community keep that
courage
up. The souls of loners tend to shrink a bit-don't ask me how I know
this.
It is because I know this about myself, and about some of you, that
today's
celebration of the catholic order of the Church that we embrace makes
so
much sense to me, why I believe it is so important for us to be here
today.
Stronger than our fears and hesitations is the risen Jesus who reveals
himself among and for us and who has promised to be with us until the
end of
the world.
And let ALL the people say, Amen.
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