Sermons by Bishop Paul V. Marshall
Receive -- With Open Hands
Chrism Mass Sermon -- April 7, 1998
Bishop Paul V. Marshall[Tuesday in Holy Week has become the traditional day in the Diocese of Bethlehem for a collegial gathering at the Cathedral with the bishop... to bless the oils and to renew ordination vows. In the midst of the clergy of the diocese, Bishop Paul Marshall preached the sermon below -- Bill Lewellis]
It is a joy to be gathered this way today -- I've never had a job I liked more in the second year than the first before, and a major part of that joy is to be working with colleagues who are colleagues, working in an atmosphere of mutual support and encouragement. Sad to say, that is not always the case in our Church; in any event I constantly thank God that I have been called to serve this diocese.
My goal for this service and the lunch time together is that there be a spot in a week where you are consumed with what you do for others to know that there is a time for you to be cared for, to reflect, and to be affirmed in your ministry. Especially for those for whom the drive is a long one -- and if you were on Rte 22 it WAS a long one, even if you came from Allentown -- I hope you will receive that quiet time as a gift of time for thought and prayer, or perhaps just to let the mind rest.
I have only recently learned that if I accept the fact that distance is what it is, I can use it creatively -- I am relearning that it is possible for me to think without a computer in front of me.
We celebrate this service publicly, in the face of and sharing eucharist with members of the Church we serve. We, like the oils we use in ministry, are for the sake of the church -- and the Gospel today reminds them of their duty to receive and care for you along with your ministry.
A word about pscyhologizing: We recently had a fine presentation by Charley Beem and Gwendolyn-Jane Romeril on chemical dependency. There were lots of moments of recognition when family roles were discussed; some of us felt a little sting when we learned about heroes and rescuers, and other mammals in the dysfunctional forest. I mention this because I know the temptation to believe that I came to ordained ministry because of some psychological kink traceable to my family of origin.
I have given this matter about 28 years of careful thought, and suggest that the answer to the question about why and how I got into ordained service is, "so what?!" For whatever reason, we are here, and the only important question is how we are now that we are here. Who can say more of their ministry than Paul did of his: "By the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace has not been in vain." I need to remind myself as often as I can, that vocation is a gift more than it is a task.
When I worry about making things come out right, all I get is stress. When I let -- well, when I FORCE -- myself to believe that the Holy Spirit may actually have something to say in the others gathered at a meeting, I can feel the tension drain, and find that things do have a way of resolving when the issue is receptivity rather than control.
The part of the ordination vows that I have always rebelled against is the part about being "a wholesome example" to God's people. I have felt general rebelliousness about it, and a great deal of rebelliousness about it in my younger days. My suspicion is that most baby boomers felt that same rebelliousness.
Perhaps out of rebelliousness, and perhaps for more salutary reasons, clergy have in the last decades striven to show that they are just as human as everybody else. I think we can declare a victory here: the point has been made again and again, with help from more than cooperative newspapers and broadcasters. So let's move on.
But the truth is that most of us here today were Spock babies, children raised by parents who knew that a child learns by what it experiences perhaps more than what it is told. Here is where I feel convicted a bit. We can say the gospel, we can teach the truths of the faith, but the environment we create around us, the experiences we structure for our parishes and organizations, will imprint more deeply on people than we are perhaps willing -- or courageous -- enough to admit.
A very wise friend once reminded me that institutions take on the characteristics of their leaders. That has always frightened me because of its truth. It has also driven me to work in leadership teams. And that's a good thing, I've found.
But that which convicts me is also the great balm to my conscience, the great escape from my self-imposed pressures. To the extent that I can be a man who reads scripture, studies, prays, and uses his gifts and talents enthusiastically -- and one who honestly admits his limitations and failings, to that extent God's grace to me will not be in vain. It is when we attempt to structure relationships, even casual ones, any other way, that sin defiles my ministry.
The great exemplar of this truth for me of late is our new Presiding Bishop. After three erudite and enlightening talks on his view of the church, he came to speak of his limitations, the moments when it is all too much for him. He spoke then of his only refuge being in sacramental life. He said that some days he is empty enough that all he can do is take the elevator to the chapel and simply be there with open hands. Christ comes, he said, in word and sacrament, and he goes on.
Precisely in describing his limitations, AND in describing his reliance on God, he became an example to us of the kind of living that I must call holy.
If institutions do take on the characteristics of their leaders, perhaps that is better news than I thought. If the characteristic we are to have is quiet joy in the Lord, relaxed trust in the power of the spirit, and the returned prodigal's free-breathing confidence in forgiveness of sins freely acknowledged, perhaps that ought indeed to be the characteristic of the institutions we serve. And we don't have to be who we aren't; we do need to become the people we were called to be, in the womb, in baptism, in serving the church.
Part of our calling is to remove any barriers our personality may unintentionally put between people and God, but that is a never-ending and ultimately impossible task. Ultimately we are called to embody what we teach, and to make it crystal clear that the foundation of anyone's life is the grace of God. It is every Christian's role to do this, and it is our calling to keep them in mind of this truth, teaching by what we say but more clearly by how we are present among them.
I suspect you already know this, but it seemed important to repeat it today as we focus on our vocation. It continues to be a joy and a humbling experience to work with you, and I remain grateful for the gifts you bear for the sake of Christ's body.
Home Site Map Please direct any questions or comments to the webmaster@diobeth.org
