Method and Meaning

I remember vividly the first day of my class in 9^th grade biology.  The teacher approached the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk, and in silence wrote out the letters G O D.  He stepped back, looked at it for a while, moved down the blackboard, and then wrote ‘Evolution’.  He let a moment or two pass for reflection then moved back to the board and drew a line between the two words he had written, indicating that the two concepts were separate and mutually exclusive.  After more silence, he picked up an eraser, moved to the board, and wiped away the word “God”.  Those of us with faith protested vehemently and he took great delight refuting the best arguments we thirteen year olds could muster.

Fast forward to my senior year at a Christian college where a group of my friends – devout and conservative to the core – ran the school newspaper.  Given this platform, they launched an assault on the school’s science department, accusing them of being too dismissive of creationism (a term that, in 1982, I had never heard before).  I remember one professor – a God-fearing, church-going man – standing before a student forum and with great angst confessing that he had read all the creationism material and, try as he might, could not embrace it.

Creationism, it seems to me, is grounded in a belief that holds if the bible is not infallible in all things then it cannot be trustworthy in anything.  From their perspective, if creation did not unfold over six days (just like it says in Genesis 1) then what in the bible can you believe?  It is the same reason why some people look for a wooden ark at the top of a mountain, Egyptian chariots at the bottom of the Red Sea, and any example of a person being swallowed by a whale and surviving.  For them, the more you can nail down a specific detail of the bible the more confident you can be of the whole bible.  It is an all or nothing approach and in some respects, the biology teacher came to the bible in the same way, the only difference being he chose ‘nothing’ over ‘all’.

We Episcopalians hold that every word of the bible does not have to be literally true in order for God to speak to us through it.  Take this morning’s beautiful reading from the first chapter of the Book of Genesis.  I am moved every time I hear it, especially if I lay aside what it says about the method of creation and listen intently for what it says about the meaning of creation.  What it says about meaning is not diminished even if what is says about method is not entirely accurate.  If you listen to the story so as to derive from it a “God-revealed method” (as creationists do), then you quickly move from hearing to trying to get a round biblical peg to fit into a square scientific hole.  But if you listen for meaning, the story opens up into something rich and wonderful.

As we listen to it in this way this is what we begin to hear:

¡ God exists as the sole creative force moving in and through all creation.  We rightly affirm this in Eucharistic Prayer C when we say,

At your command all things came to be: the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our island home. 

By your will they were created and have their being.

Richard Dawkins and Stephen Hawking may believe that everything came about out of nothing and there is no need to posit the existence of God to explain reality, but we hold different.  Every masterpiece is painted by an artist, every great music score has a composer, and every breath-taking poem has an author.  Our faith is that something critical is lost when you ignore the Producer and only look at the product.  

¡ If we listen carefully we can hear that creation itself is part of an unfolding and surprising drama.  “God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light.  And God saw that the light was good.”  There does not appear to be a blueprint.  With each day and each act, God pauses, reflects, and evaluates.  It is as if God must survey the impact of each step.  And seeing the results, God is pleased.  With each day and each new act, God appears to take it all in.  One act begets another.  There is a certain connectedness to what God creates, with each building on what has come before.

¡ Of all that is created, humanity holds a unique distinction in that we are made in God’s image and likeness.  Being thus made, we are able to fulfill God’s command to have ‘dominion’ over all creation.  The Hebrew word for ‘dominion’ (rada) implies care-giving and nurturing, never exploitation.  God entrusts to humanity the on-going care for and development of what God has brought into being.  The journey continues and the future is largely in our hands.  We are entrusted with the care and keep of all things.  It is within our power to protect the earth and all living things and it is within our power to damage or to destroy them.

¡ When God surveys all that has come about in creation God sees that it is “very good”.  Creation is not perfect.  Nothing, short of God, is.  But our fragile island home is a good place, filled with God’s blessing.  Through human work and effort the journey of creation continues to unfold in magnificent and wonderful ways.  We are blessed to have an abundance of food, shelter from the elements, access to healthcare, recreation, and the arts.  We have the ability to ensure that every human being can share in these blessings, but it takes work: the work of world peace and developing economies so that each person can benefit and grow from the fruits of his or her own labor and efforts.  The earth will support us all if we manage it well, strive for peace, respect the dignity of every human being, and treat others as we would like them to treat us.  Wendall Berry, the Kentucky farmer and poet put it best: “Treat the people downstream the way you would like the people upsteam to treat you!”

These are some of the things we hear when we listen for meaning embedded in the creation story.

This morning we heard God’s first command to the human family: “Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, subdue it and have dominion.”  In the Gospel reading we heard God’s last command: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.”  As we listen for meaning we are called to proclaim meaning.  This is precisely where we differ from creationists.  They listen for method in order to proclaim method.  It matters not if a person believes God created the world in 144 hours (six days).  What matters is how God calls a person to be a part of creation. 

Today we celebrate the Creator God who has brought into being all that is and given it into our hands.  We people of faith believe there is a right way to use this gift, to express our divine nature, and to honor the God who has entrusted it to us.  We proclaim our faith to the world, both through our words of worship and through our daily actions.  Rather than pursue an antagonizing debate about the method of creation we focus on the meaning, embracing insights derived through technology and our God-given reason, but always knowing that the works of our hands and minds will never tell us about the intent and purpose behind all that is.  Only the Master Painter, Composer, Poet, Author of all that is can lead us down the path of this pursuit, the pursuit of meaning. 

 

The Holy Spirit's "Basic Plan"

 

Pentecost Sunday: the day we celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit.  Of all the significant holy days in the liturgical year, perhaps this one feels the least “Episcopalian” of all.  In fact, it might not even measure up to the days we remember the metaphysical poets John Donne and George Herbert (or maybe that is just me).  We Episcopalians (known in some circles as “God’s frozen chosen”) are not likely to start dancing in aisle, swooning in the Spirit, or babbling the language of an unknown dialect.  Batting balloons in the air at the Passing of the Peace will push us to the limit.  No, this seems like a day for other Christians – for Pentecostals and Charismatics, for faith healers and snake handlers.

 

Is the Holy Spirit for us?  Is there any way we can claim this day for ourselves, given our less than ecstatic experience of the third Person of the Trinity?

 

Pentecost is an ancient Jewish festival – one of the three most sacred of the year.  Falling fifty days after the Passover, it celebrates the first fruits of the spring harvest and commemorates the giving of the Law to Moses on Mt. Sinai.  These links are largely lost to us today because it is also the day the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples for the first time and gave birth to the Christian church.  That day, the Spirit transformed a rag-tag, quizzical, and lost group of bewildered followers into gifted, energized, and passionate leaders who proclaimed the Gospel with such power it changed the world.

 

Every Sunday, before the beginning of the early service, I gather with the lector and offer this prayer:

 

Gracious heavenly Father, we thank you for this opportunity to worship you and to praise you most holy Name.  Bless us now, so that all that we say and do – every thought, word, act, and gesture – might bring honor and glory to you and to your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.  We ask these things in his name.

 

And then a couple of years ago it dawned on me that the prayer addressed only 2/3rds of the Trinity so I amended it:

 

We ask these things in his name, mindful of the power and presence of your Holy Spirit.  Amen.

 

I really do believe in the power and presence of the Holy Spirit, here, in this service and in every aspect of our lives. 

 

As best as I can tell from Scripture, the Holy Spirit is God’s gift to all people in all times and places.  The more dramatic manifestations of the Spirit – tongues and the like – seem to be isolated and local, appearing in the New Testament in just a few specific communities.  Much has not changed over the centuries.  The Spirit is present throughout the church, but only here and there is it manifested in what for some are spectacular ways, while for others are curious at best.  I suspect that those of us who are on the Holy Spirit’s ‘basic plan’ do just fine with our faith without having the ‘premium package’ and all its special and exotic features.

 

Let me describe the ‘basic plan’ by naming two primary ways “the power and presence of the Holy Spirit” is at work in our midst.  Each flows from a distinctive meaning of the word paracletus – the Greek word used by the bible to describe the Holy Spirit.   

 

The more common use of paracletus means ‘advocate’ – one who draws close and stands with us in a time a need; one who takes up our cause as his own.  In the Greek usage, this person could be a defense attorney, a doctor, or a supportive friend.  Alan Jones, former Dean of Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, once wrote that there are three times when the Holy Spirit is most present in our lives: “In the unpredictable, in the place of risk, and in those areas over which we have no control.”  Are not these the times when we desperately need God by our side. 

 

I see the power and presence of the Holy Spirit time and again when a family pulls together to face a crisis, when prayerful church leaders determine to meet a challenge head-on, when an individual at the end of her rope entrusts herself to God’s care and keep.  These are the kinds of moments we allow God to do for us and through others what we cannot possibly do on our own.  It is the strength we find in grief, the courage we find in fear, the trust we find when faced with something beyond our abilities.  This is the Holy Spirit we all know and this is the Holy Spirit we celebrate today.

 

There was a second use of the word paracletus.  It was a military position of sorts.  Once a general determined to go to battle, he would gather the troops and call upon a skilled orator to address them.  This person, known as the paracletus, was charged with delivering a rousing speech that would make even the bleakest situation appear to be winnable.  It is from such moments that we get the expression “It is time to fire up the troops.”  The paracletus was today’s equivalent of the coach speaking to the team at halftime or the motivational speaker brought in to address a company’s employees.  The goal was to lift up morale and to prepare the audience for the work ahead.

 

Look at the disciples gathered in that closed room.  They lack leadership, drive, purpose, initiative, and direction.  This is hardly a fighting force to take on the world, let alone preach is such a way that 3,000 people will be baptized by sundown.  All of that is before the paracletus goes to work bringing fire, but more importantly lighting a fire is each one of them.  The Spirit becomes in them what Jesus talked about in today’s Gospel reading, “out of a believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.”

 

I see this living water and this passion moving in and through our congregation.  I see it when the choir attempts an anthem I might have thought beyond their ability and yet they dive in with confidence and perform it beautifully.  I see it when a father, son, and son-in-law stand a grill and with great joy cook burgers and hotdogs for our picnic.  I see it at all the odd hours I stumble in here and find Miko hard at work cleaning a place that she deeply loves.

 

But the Holy Spirit as paracletus does much more than light a fire in us for ministry.  It also lights a fire in us for life itself, in all of its many glorious and divergent manifestations.  Bishop Hollerith is fond of saying to the clergy of the diocese that if we don’t have a passion in life for something that exists beyond the bounds of the church than we are going to be pretty boring people and priests.  My colleagues are passionate about things like bird watching, sustainable gardening, kayaking, cooking, playing the ukulele, creating graphic novels of biblical stories, flipping houses, running, drinking Starbuck’s coffee, hanging out with grandchildren, writing poetry, hunting, fishing, golf, and tennis.  The bishop himself has spent years making a steam powered boat, machining all the parts by hand.  Me, I am known for bike riding and home renovations.  I suspect that each of us finds in our particular passion a fire for life as God intends it, lived in goodness, thankfulness, and enthusiasm.

 

William Blake, the 19^th Century Romantic painter and poet, who had a deep, mystical bent running through his spirit, wrote this in a poem about Pentecost:

 

Unless the eye catch fire, God will not be seen.
Unless the ear catch fire, God will not be heard.
Unless the tongue catch fire, God will not be named.
Unless the heart catch fire, God will not be loved.
Unless the mind catch fire, God will not be known.

 

This is exactly the work of the Paracletus – Advocate and Energizer.  It is this Spirit that we celebrate today and invite anew into our lives.  It is this Spirit we depend upon for counsel and comfort when times are dark and demanding.  It is this Spirit we welcome as the fire of our eyes, ears. tongue, heart, and mind so that life might be for us truly alive, flowing with rivers of living water.

 

Reflections on Glory

There are 21 chapters in the Gospel of John and 5 of them – 24% – are devoted to events that took place during the Last Supper in the upper room on what we now celebrate as Maundy Thursday.  Now, while the gospel wasn’t written with chapter divisions (that was something added in the 13^th century) there is a considerable amount of emphasis and weight given to this meal.

On this evening Jesus gives his disciples an example to follow by washing their feet.  He announces that one of the twelve will betray him.  He breaks bread and shares it.  He gives a new commandment (that we are to love one another as he has loved us).  And he tells his followers that he will be leaving them soon, but will send another – the Holy Spirit – to lead them.  All of this unfolds in chapters 12-16.

As they are gathered together in the intimate setting of that space, chapter 17 begins with this brief introduction,

“Jesus looked up to heaven and said…”

The remainder of the chapter contains what scholars refer to as Jesus’ “High-Priestly Prayer” and when the prayer is finished the meal concludes and the group heads to the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus will pray alone before being arrested.

The dinner prayer itself provides fascinating insight into the life of the Holy Trinity in that it allows us to be privy to words spoken by the Son to the Father.  We get a sense of the mutuality and respect that exists in the heart of God.  The words Jesus uses are very familiar to us in the church,

“Glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you.”

“Glorify me in your presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world began.”

We began today’s service praising God by saying, “Glory to God in the highest…”  Glory is a very familiar, churchy word, but what exactly does it mean?  What is the exchange of glory between the Father and the Son all about?  What glory did Jesus have before the world began and what happened to it so that it needs to be restored?  And what might the answers to these questions mean to us beyond being a nice, safe, polite doctrinal conversation?  In other words, what difference does it make to us here and now?

Merriam-Webster Dictionary on-line suggests that glory has something to do with praise, honor, and thanksgiving.  It also has something to do with renown – distinction extended by common consent.  It hints at great beauty, grandeur, and splendor.  The site provided the following examples of ways glory is used:

· As a young soldier he dreamed of winning military glory.

· He now has only a few trophies to remind him of the glory of his athletic career.

· Let us give glory to God.

· The glory of the town is its fountain.

· an art exhibit showing off the glories of ancient civilizations.

· The new owners are trying to restore the company to its former glory.

· The beautiful art reminds us of the glory of the empire.

These different uses suggest to me that glory has something to do with what we value and esteem.  It has something to do with acknowledging a person or entity or thing that has achieved its highest potential.  The act of giving glory is a way of establishing the appropriate weight or place for what is glorified (for example, the town with the impressive fountain locates its source of worth and value in the fountain rather than, say, in a corner gas station). 

This raises a question for us: do we value things as we ought; are our priorities in order?  On a temporal level, what happens if the town with a fountain gets a new Target store?  Do the people of the community get caught up in what is new and exciting?  What do they lose when they lose a sense of the town’s glory be tied to the magnificent fountain?  On a spiritual level, what do we lose if we do not esteem God with the glory that God deserves?   What if, in our heart of hearts, we locate glory in something else; perhaps money or personal appearance or job performance or sexual prowess? 

When Jesus prays “glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you”, I get the sense he seeks to be in that place or state that existed previously, something akin to the new owners trying to restore the company to its former glory.  In his letter to the Christians in Philippi, St. Paul touches on this:

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.  Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (2:5-11)

The passage, which scholars believe actually was an ancient hymn, suggests something paradoxical: namely, glory comes to those who do not seek it.  In fact, some of the people we glorify the most are those who humble themselves and give themselves to others asking nothing in return. 

Vanna Bonta, who is described as American poet, novelist, essayist, actress, inventor, and model, once wrote, “Fame is not the glory!  Virtue is the goal, and fame only a messenger, to bring more to the fold.”  Athletic or military glory is never achieved without sacrifice, dedication, hard work, courage, and (above all) a care and concern for others.  We recognize the glory of an achievement, but it never stands apart from the virtues that it stands upon.  Jesus is honored with the name above all names not because he demanded all glory, laud, and honor be given to him, but because of what he gave up and how he went about God’s work.

Jesus makes these three statements in his prayer:

“I finished the work that you gave me to do.”

“I have made your name known to those whom you gave me.”

“Your words that you gave to me I have given to them.”

The prayer suggests that Jesus came into this world with a sense of purpose.  He knew what he was supposed to do and by doing these things the Father deems him to be worthy of glory. 

I wonder to what degree each one of us comes into this world with a purpose.  Some suppose there is a very specific way to walk set before us.  Others emphasize the importance not of the path you choose but the person you are and what you do while on that path.  The world is poorer with the passing of Maya Angelou but so much richer for her life.  In an interview in 1990, she said, “I believe that each of us comes from the creator trailing wisps of glory.”  You and I have a purpose.  Even if what you achieve affects and influences only a few people, or even if it is known only by you, God esteems you with a measure of glory.  God measures and values you as you ought to be, even (and sadly) if others do not.  Again, Maya Angelou once said, “One isn’t necessarily born with courage, but one is born with potential.  Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency.  We can’t be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest.”  Do you have the courage to seek your potential?

Let me say one final word about St. Paul’s and glory of the past.  If you look around this church building, you might naturally and accurately assess that it is a beautiful symbol of the glories of a previous age; an age when people of means came together to commission craftsmen and artisans to create something far more magnificent than we could accomplish today.  Yes, it was impressive how generations before us built this place to glorify the Lord.  But week in and week out, this place is something much more than a museum displaying only the works of the past.  We are a living community gathered to glorify God in a way that helps us put all of life in perspective.  We joyfully and passionately set out to do the works God has given us to do.  When need arises we live life courageously, compassionately, and selflessly.  I believe that God looks on all of this and is glorified.  And I believe that our devotion to God and commitment to one another is worthy of glory.  This is what makes us an attractive, active, and vital faith community. 

Perhaps the most beautiful church I have served was located in a small Iowa town.  It was on the National Historic Registry, a designation we should want this place to avoid like the plague!  One Sunday I asked for individual members to describe what they thought was the church’s most magnificent, most beautiful, most glorious feature.  One person said it was the woodwork at the high altar (and believe me, it was an exquisite piece crafted by a person who had done work for the Queen of England).  Another person suggested it was the stained glass windows, most of which were crafted by Meyer of Munich, Germany, but also (like us) included a Tiffany or two.  When everyone who wanted had chimed in, I said, “Do you know what I think the most beautiful part of our church is?  It is you, the people!”  That has been true of every congregation I served and it is true here.  I thank God for the glory that is you all and for the privilege I have to be with you as your Rector.

Spiritual But Not Religious

Have you heard of a group of people now classified as SBNR – an acronym that stands for “Spiritual but not Religious”?  It is one of the fastest growing demographics in our country, with roughly 20% of the population now describing itself in this way.  Folks, that is over 60 million people.  Keep in mind that present membership in the Episcopal Church is just south of 2 million.  The numbers suggest that for every member of our church there are approximately 30 people in downtown Suffolk who think of themselves as spiritual but not religious.

What exactly is the difference between being spiritual and being religious?  Both words imply a belief in a Higher Power, a desire to engage that Higher Power, and a willingness to align behavior in certain ways based on insights derived from that connection.  As the words are commonly used today, being ‘spiritual’ implies that one engages in all of this in the private realm, while being ‘religious’ indicates engagement with it in the public realm.  I suspect that for most of us here today we do both.  Our way of approaching God is both public and private.  But today, one in five Americans rejects the notion that in order to have a connection with God you need to be a part of a place like St. Paul’s.

People who are spiritual but not religious pursue personal experiences removed from institutions like the church, with its rituals, doctrines, and creeds.  Many, in fact, have had a negative experience with the church and/or its leaders.  They tend to view themselves as being on a journey and are comfortable picking and choosing from a wide array of non-traditional options and alternative religious philosophies in their pursuit of personal growth.  Those who are spiritual but not religious are more likely than other Americans to have a college education, work in a white-collar profession, support liberal political views, and act independently (as opposed to having a group-mindset).

Linda Mercadante, a theology professor and author of the book Belief without Borders, argues that those of us who are religious should see the rise of the spiritual but not religious as something positive.  She spent over five years listening to hundreds of SBNR’s and concluded they are protesting three things. 

The first is what she calls “scientism” – a belief that everything can be reduced to its material value.  SBNRs hold that there is more to reality than what can be observed and studied.  Second, they are protesting secularism – the idea that we are just cogs in the machines of life.  For them, the individual person matters as much as the whole.  And finally, they are protesting religion if, on one hand, it is too rigid, or on the other, if it is comatose.  

Mercadante contends, in fact, that those of us who are religious care about these same things.  She states that this should be a wake-up call for us because many (but not all) churches have lost the ability to communicate and connect with SBNRs.  She offers three suggestions:

·   First, we need to understand and speak their language rather than being fearful of it and dismissive. 

·   Next, SBNR folks need to understand that some bad behavior by a few religious people does not automatically imply that you should give up on all religious people. 

·   And finally, people from both perspectives need to embrace the idea that you don’t have to agree completely on everything in order to get along. 

What I appreciate about her thinking is that it seeks to discover commonalities in order to make connections, rather than to center in on those places where there is discord in order to foster conflict.

In this morning’s first reading we heard Paul speaking to the people of Athens.  He has surveyed their city and noted its many diverse symbols.  He has worked hard to understand all of its rich meaning.  He concludes that Athenians are deeply religious people and tells them so.  The text suggests he uses the word ‘religious’ to mean both spiritual and religious – in other words they pursue a higher power both privately and publically.

Paul describes to the Athenians a particular altar that he noticed.  It contained the inscription “to an unknown god” and would have been very familiar to his audience.  Notice how the great saint builds a bridge between the Athenians’ religious experience and his own by proclaiming to know their unknown god. 

He begins to talk about what is, without a doubt, the fundamental question about spiritual and religious pursuit in our day.  In that era, a few might have asked it, but not many.  The question is this: Is God a product of human construction or a reality that exists beyond us?  In other words, did God create us or did we create God; naming those things as divine that exist beyond our present human understanding?  It goes without saying that as human understanding of reality increases the space occupied by a higher power decreases.  Assuming that we who are here today are both spiritual and religious, I can say with confidence that we hold at least one thing in common with those who are spiritual and not religious.  We both believe that there is a higher power and therefore a place for a Holy Being that will always exist beyond human understanding.

None of what Paul says can be construed as a direct attack on the Athenians’ faith.  It is meant to get people to think, to ask questions, and to begin a conversation. 

·   Does God live in shrines made by human hands?

·   Is God merely crafted by enlightened 21^st century individuals who explore the sociological elements of various traditions in order to stich together a spiritual garment that keeps them warm?

·   Can you, as it were, create a statue of God, either with human hands or through human intellect?

·   If the answer to any of these questions is yes, then does it represent the True and Living God (if there is such an entity) or is it merely something we wish is true?

Perhaps the second fastest growing demographic in our country would argue that the only way to answer these questions is in the negative.  It is imperative that those of us who are spiritual and religious find common ground with those who are spiritual and not religious.  We have got to find a way to walk together if we are going to find a way to live and move and have our being in a society that is increasingly non-religious and non-spiritual. 

Here are some points for conversation that we might have with family and friends and neighbors and coworkers as we seek to bridge the gap between those who are spiritual and not religious with those who are both:

·   Can the individual make a difference apart from an institution?  Does anything lasting or important ever emerge solely from an individual’s perspective, or at some point does it have to engage the collective whole?

·   Next, spirituality generates in us an emotion while religion produces a sense of obligation.  In the words of Rabbi David Wople, “Spirituality soothes.  Religion mobilizes.  Spirituality is satisfied with itself.  Religion is dissatisfied with the world.”  Is it enough to concentrate only on me, on what I need, and on what makes me feel good?

·   Spirituality focuses itself on a pursuit of personal well-being while religion demands that we think of ourselves as a part of a community.  How can I get what I need and give what I ought?

What gives me hope is that these are not points we argue but experiences we lift up as true.  All we have to do is welcome seekers into our community, live out our faith through its moments of baptism, confirmation, marriage, and burial – augmented by a weekly remembrance of our Lord’s words, actions, and self-giving – and we will find individuals are being drawn to our community as we journey together to pursue, honor, and obey the One who we believe has, through Christ and empowered by the Holy Spirit, made all that is.

Stephen's Witness

In a June 1965 commencement address at Ohio’s Oberlin College, Martin Luther King put forward this thought: “I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be.  And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be.”  It was a statement deeply rooted in the principles of nonviolent resistance to evil and injustice and it flies in the face of thinking that holds in order for me to come out of any situation as the winner, someone has to come out as the loser.  Certainly if Dr. King could have stood before Stephen’s executioners in today’s first reading and said to them, “You can never be what you ought to be until Stephen is what he ought to be,” they would have laughed in his face.
 

Stephen appears from out of nowhere in the Book of Acts when he is lifted up as one of the first seven ordained deacons; ministers who had a specific role to play in the early church.  Two kinds of Christians coexisted in that Jerusalem community: those who were Hebrew Jews prior to following Christ and those who before being baptized were Hellenistic (or Greek raised and Greek speaking) Jews.  You can imagine that, while having a common faith in Christ, these two groups - given their cultural backgrounds and differences - had much to overcome in order to maintain unity.  The Hellenistic Christians complained that the community was not caring for their widows and orphans at the same level as they tended to Hebrew Christian widows and orphans.  Thus, the Apostles saw fit to ordain seven deacons, Stephen being one of them, to oversee the care of all persons in need.  

Surely Stephen approached this matter with a spirit similar to Dr. King’s commencement statement; knowing that neither group benefited when one held an advantage over the other.  The good of the community demanded fair and equitable treatment for all.

In addition to this work, the Book of Acts tells us that Stephen did much teaching and also performed many signs and wonders.  He soon caught the attention of religious authorities who brought him before the formidable Sanhedrin council for investigation.  There, Stephen made an articulate defense of his faith by stating how the whole of Jewish history pointed to Jesus as being the promised Messiah.  Those leaders heard this as blasphemy and dragged him out of the city, picked up rocks, and stoned him to death, making Stephen the first person to be martyred for the Christian faith.

His dying words are truly remarkable.  If I was in his place, I might have said something like “Jesus will get you for this” or “A curse be on all of you” or maybe even in weakness, “Let me recant my testimony.”  Stephen, however, said nothing of the sort.  His last words were these: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”  It is an amazing response that charts a clear and merciful path for the early church to follow as it endures persecution.  Stephen’s witness continues to reverberate into our day and age as it holds up the possibility of nonviolent resistance in the face of evil and injustice.

There is a very powerful scene in the movie Gandhi where that great leader addresses a mass gathering in South Africa.  Gandhi begins his speech:
 

“I want to welcome you all… everyone of you (he says facing the English police and authorities).  We have no secrets.  Let us begin by being clear about General Smart’s new law.  All Indians must now be fingerprinted, like criminals: men and women.  No marriage other than a Christian Marriage in considered valid.  Under this act our wives and mothers are whores and every man here is a bastard.  And a policeman passing an Indian dwelling - I will not call them homes - may enter and demand the card of any Indian woman whose dwelling it is.  He does not have to stand at the door, he may enter.” 
 

A man interrupts and shouts out, “I swear to Allah I will kill that man who offers that insult to my home and my wife.  And let them hang me.”  Another man stands and says, “I say those mean nothing.  Kill all the officials before they disgrace one Indian woman.  Then they may think twice about such laws.”  A third man supports this idea and proclaims, “I will be willing to die”. 
 

Gandhi responds:
 

“I praise such courage.  I need such courage.  Because in this cause I too am prepared to die but my friend, there is no cause for which I am prepared to kill.  Whatever they do to us, we will attack no one, kill no one.  But we will not give our fingerprints.  Not one of us.  They will imprison us.  They will fine us.  They will seize our possessions but they cannot take our self-respect if we do not give it to them.” 
 

A listener interrupts: “Have you ever been to prison? They beat us!  They torture us!” 
 

Gandhi answers him by saying to all: 
 

“I am asking you to fight… to fight against their anger, not to provoke it.  We will not strike a blow.  But we will receive them.  And through our pains we will make them see their injustice and it will hurt as all fighting hurts.  But we cannot lose… we cannot.  They may torture my body, break my bones, even kill me.  Then they will have my dead body.  Not my obedience.”
 

Certainly Gandhi’s thinking was inspired, in some part, by Stephen’s example.  As the old saying goes, he will love the sinner while hating the sin.  He will pronounce judgment on actions while embracing the value of the person acting.  He does not stand against other people, only opposed to what they are doing.

More and more, I am impressed by the power that you and I have through social media to join our voices with millions of others around the world in an effort to bring about justice where evil reigns.  The act of commenting, liking, and sharing posts that demand the Boko Haram free the school girls they have kidnapped brings pressure to bear on this situation.  Hopefully the same tools can help the world stand with Meriam Yehya Ibrahim, a Sudanese woman who has been sentenced to death for converting to Christianity.  Before she is executed she is sentenced to receive 200 lashes for committing adultery.  All of this comes about because an Islamic court does not recognize her marriage to a Christian man.

In his Letter from the Birmingham Jail, Dr. King wrote, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”  You and I now have powerful and productive ways to act for justice that were not available to us only a decade ago.  Stephen’s martyrdom, which was known at most to 100 people and witnessed by even less than that, today would be played out before the eyes of the world.  Your voice matters.  Your silence or indifference is also be noted and it too plays a part in every outcome.

In just a few moments we will renew our baptismal covenant by affirming our now-familiar vows to persevere in resisting evil, to proclaim by word and deed the Good News of God in Christ, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, and to strive for justice and peace among all people by respecting the dignity of every human being.  These promises have implications both for our personal relationships and for our individual standing on a world stage.

The feeling of powerlessness is perhaps the greatest temptation to inaction.  Today we have more power than we imagine.  And, as always, in addition to social networks, our individual and collective voices are heard by God.  Prayer remains the single most powerful force in a world of deadly weapons and instruments of mass destruction.

The reading from Acts ends by introducing another new character in the Christian drama, a man by the name of Saul.  He witnesses the stoning in some official capacity and is so moved by what transpires he becomes a zealous and malicious persecutor of the early church, travelling to towns and villages to carry out arrests and tortures.  In that he was present at Stephen’s death, the martyr’s dying words of forgiveness are extended to him as well as the others: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”

Well, in Saul’s case, God answers that prayer in spectacular fashion.  You remember the story how the Risen Christ appeared to him as he was travelling on the road to Damascus, an encounter that left Saul temporally blinded.  But it led to his conversion and to a new name – Paul, for whom our parish is named.  Prayer matters.  Forgiveness as an instrument of resistance makes a difference.

Stephen’s witness, which was an inspiration for Gandhi and King, tells us much about who we are to be as followers of Christ.  We are not to seek what is advantageous for us alone, but for what is beneficial to all.  We do not excuse bad behavior as if it were nothing, neither do we hold others forever accountable for the wrongs they have done.  We believe that evil has been judged and condemned, and thus injustice simply is intolerable in our community, in our common life, and in our personal relationships.  We stand with every person who is powerless in the face of injustice and in the name of a just God demand that righteousness reigns for all people.  And we know that the weapons of the world are not synonymous with the ways of God.

May Stephen’s example inspire and guide us as it has inspired and guided so many before.