[Propertalk] Sermon for 1892

[Robert P Morrison]

We're continuing our study and usage of ancestral Prayer books, and have will have reached 1892 by Sunday 23rd.

Here's what I have prepared to read and edit tomorrow. The Gospel is the Pharisee and tha Tax Collector.

Bob


THE EPISCOPAL PARISH OF ST. JAMES, LINCOLN CITY    THE  11th SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY 
1 CORINTHIANS15:1-11		                 [ PROPER 16 b RCL  ]
 LUKE 18:9-14      		               [ THE TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST ]

23rd  AUGUST, 2009
LITURGY USING 1892 U.S. PRAYER BOOK

	According to some people, our Presiding Bishop set another cat out with the pigeons this summer. In a sermon at General Convention, she talked about what she called the heresy of individual salvation. Of course, before the words were half-way across the huge worship space, she was being called a heretic herself.
	On a simple level, what she was trying to reinforce is the belief that we’re all born, physically and spiritually, into a community. Yes, each of us has a responsibility for him or herself. We each have to govern our tongues, and our hearts, and our minds; we each have to mull over the norms of whatever groups to which we belong – ESPECIALLY congregations - to see if they fit where we find ourselves. And we each have to decide whether we want to conform to the rules and regulations. Once in, however, we have to live out our commitment, all day, every day. We don’t get to pass on one thing or another. We DO decide for ourselves how to live what we say we profess. But once the decision has been made we’re no longer an individual – we’re a part, a vital, a respected, an honoured, a necessary part of the community, and it’s on our behaviour towards every other member of the community that we’re judged.
	No exceptions! 
	Think for a moment about the stories Jesus told as He worked to prepare people for living with God. Sheep, goats, fish, seeds, birds, pigs, trees – they all existed in relationships. And people – marriages, burials, child-rearing; and work - power, responsibility, stewardship … ALL about relationships. The Church itself was formed as community, although :Church” wasn’t the name for it at first. It was simply a group of Friends of Jesus who met worship God and the mutual encouragement of one another. So our relationship with Jesus is defined by our relationship, our commitment, our involvement here. This CAN’T be done, or experienced, in isolation.
	If we’ve boticed anything about the liturgies from the early English Prayer Books which we’ve been using for the oast three Sundays, it will be helpful if we pay attention to the rubrics (directions) that the minister/priest cannot have Communion unless there be at least ONE congregant making Communion at the same time.
	This is both a reaction against Roman Catholic practice of the priest celebrating and serving alone AND also the positive encouragement to everyone to participate. That’s what the stern Exhortations were all about. The first is to encourage those who might hold back. They were told that they were part of the family, and should come to the Table frequently. Then the other Exhortations give warning. If you’re coming to Jesus Presence, if you’re receiving Him as your guest, then you have to do everything in your power to keep God’s law as closely as possible.
Yes, it’s impossible to keep the law fully, but the point is that we’re to try, in order to honour God. If we’ve done anything at all to fracture the family’s community, to distance ourselves from one person or one group; to cause one person to become isolated because of something we’ve done or said; to create circumstances in which one or more are made to feel unwelcome and not wanted as a part of the community – if we’ve broken community, then we need to confess it and do everything, absolutely everything – whatever it takes – to restore what has been broken, and to ensure that not a single person is made to feel or be separated from others.
	Jesus’ goal – and I’ll refer to this again – Jesus’ goal is to ensure that absolutely everyone is able to take her or his place at the table – a place prepared by God from the beginning.	
	As strange as it may seem, I think that‘s what each successive revision of the English language Prayer Book has been aiming at. Of course there were political aspects to every edition – prayers shuffled from one place to another; words, phrases or sentences dropped, reinserted or added, and so on, all to make a point – one of which is that the priest and people are to work together to make liturgy, to celebrate Communion not just with God, but with one another.
	You might be forgiven for not picking up on this on the first week of this Prayer Book journey; maybe even on the second. However, slowly but surely, more and more elements are given to the people and priest together, until next week we’ll see how we’ve reached this particular point in our liturgical history.
	It’s interesting, then, that today assigned Gospel passage deals with the idea of righteousness, particularly as expressed through prayer.
	“Prayer, according to the piety of first-century Judaism, was of three types: confession of sin; thanks for bounty received; petitions for oneself and others, The Pharisee’s prayer does not fall into any of these cateogories. … His public remarks are an attack on others clothed in self-advertisement.” 1
	Compare that to the attitude and demeanor of the Tax Collector. Not only does he stare at the ground, he beats his breast. “In the Bible, the only other case of people beating their chests is at the cross when the crowds, deeply disturbed at what had taken place, beat their chests at the end of the day just after Jesus died. …
“Both the Pharisee and the Tax Collector are standing in front of the great high altar on which a lamb, without blemish, has just been sacrificed for the sins of Israel.”  2 A commentator makes the very critical remark about the Pharisee’s behaviour that what happened with him was “The perversion of perception. Self-righteousness distorts visions of self, God and neighbor.” 3
	What struck me from this story Jesus told is the way the Pharisee held himself apart from the rest of the community. He put himself far above them, and, in doing so, he consigned the others to the outer extremities of both religious and social participation. It wasn’t that he didn’t see the Tax Collector. He saw the other very plainly. He thoroughly despised him and all he stood for. He isolated the very person whose greatest needs were friends, and support, and every a tiny drop of compassion.
	And this Gospel story has been read how many times since Jesus told it?
	The primary purpose of Jesus’ birth, Jesus self-examination and acceptance of ministry, of Jesus’ death was to bring EVERYONE to the Table which He was preparing to spread. Anything which keeps even one person from finding her or his seat at the table, therefore, for whatever reason, is a defiance of Jesus’ whole life. It’s a denial of God’s design of community. It’s a rejection of the ability and call of the Friend of Jesus to make a difference, to help everyone around us understand the extent to which God is willing to go to make us whole individuals and at one with one another. Of the heresies into which we can all slip so easily, one is that this person or that – the Tax Collector, if you like, the person who’s made a horrendous mistake and hurt someone – one heresy is that that THAT person can never change. Besides, he or she will never look like us or fit our standards. The second is that there are people who’re simply not worth bothering about, so isolating them, making sure they stay out of our way, not bothering about anything which can emphasise their humanity, can help them see the God in them. Separating even ONE person from ourselves means taking on the persona of the Pharisee in the story.
	What is this, though, but a destruction of community? What is this but a denial of God’s Love? What is this but an intended slap in the face to another, but is, in reality, the condemnation and denial of ourselves?
	Jim Wallis is a bestselling author, public theologian, speaker, preacher, and international commentator on religion and public life, faith and politics. This doesn’t automatically make him the darling of either Church or society. In fact, both often criticize him quite severely. He was raised in a Midwest evangelical family. As a teenager, his questioning of the racial segregation in his church and community led him to the black churches and neighborhoods of inner-city Detroit. Last week he wrote, in anger and terrible sadness, “Two weeks ago, Sam died suddenly. He was only 21 years old, strong and healthy, preparing for a life ministering to youth.
	“Cause of death: acute pancreatitis and previously undiagnosed diabetes.
	“Reason for death: no access to health care to treat the incredible pain in his stomach - until it was too late.
	“The bottom line: While angry protesters disrupt town hall meetings and national organizations spread fear-based lies, lives are lost.” 4
	There may be a bit of exaggeration there. Had two or three protestors not been at any of the Town Hall meetings around the country, would it have made Sam’s death less likely? Probably not, because of sheer timing. But what of Sam’s brothers and sisters across the country? What of Sam’s brothers and sisters here in Lincoln City, who can’t get in to clinics because they can’t afford it, and couldn’t get the medications they need even if they could get a prescription? For that matter, what of those clinics which DO take in Sam’s, knowing full well there will be no reimbursement?
	How DO we get Sam, along with everyone else in the world, to find their God-given place at the Table? We do it by recognizing the universal worth of all in God’s creation. We do it by making ourselves facilitators, and by understanding that our place at the Table depends on whether or not we bring others into the community – never shutting them out.
	“On 30 July, with the mayor of the Kurdish village Kaladze and his gracious staff, (members of Christian Peacemaker Teams) sat and ate on the Iraqi/Iranian border. For some time, the Iraq team had asked for access to this section, not only to observe the damages from continuing attacks along the border but also to accompany villagers who have decided to return to their homes in this beautiful mountainous region. 
	“Displaced by both unregulated bombings from Turkish fighter jets and random shellings by Iranian rockets and mortars, families had moved out of the area, appealing for protection. Yet, circumstances of their temporary relocation are less fulfilling than living again, despite the risks, in their villages-the place where their families have followed rich traditions and experienced the blessings of community for centuries.”  5
	Members of the team wrote, “The mayor assisted his staff in preparing food and serving us. They spread the table in the presence of sophisticated surveillance operations monitored by both U.S. and Turkish military agencies. At this border between Iraq and Iran, we enjoyed kabobs, stuffed grape leaves, fresh vegetables, fruits, and tea. As we ate, we talked about families and vocations, experiences in Kurdistan and Iraq, and relations among other countries both nearby and far away. We talked about our concerns for the welfare of the villagers who are vulnerable to recurring violent disruptions. 
	“We talked with the mayor about relationships and personal dignity and our dream of finding a way for every person in the earth to live peacefully within the human family. We spoke about our belief that all persons should enjoy the blessings of community and the pleasure of anticipating a safe future for their children.  The mayor dismissed our vision as unrealistic, indicating this kind of inclusive respectful community is only an apparition, an empty hope, a fantasy.  We confessed our belief that this kind of existence would please Allah. The mayor confessed his belief that if Allah desires this kind of life in the earth then Allah would bring it to pass.”
	Jesus didn’t say that things would be easy. He talked about the perversion of perception.
	“We wonder,” wrote those who dined in the Kurdish village – and I wonder – “if a table could be spread so that every person on this planet could eat and visit together, and if we could do something to help make it happen.”
	Or even one person, one living on the edge of fear, and hopelessness, and guilt and remorse … could we even do it for ONE person this week? Or is that too much to ask? 

NOTES:

 	“Jesus through Middle Eastern Eyes” by Kenneth E. Bailey. IVP Academic, Downers Grove, Ill. © 2008. Page 347 ff. 
2	Bailey. Op. cit. p. 348 
3	Bailey. Op cit. p. 354
4	Sojourners   Sojourners at sojo.net  Wednesday, August 19, 2009 7:00 am
5	“IRAQ REFLECTION: A table prepared” by Garland Robertson CPTnet 20 August 2009  

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Robert P. Morrison
The Episcopal Parish of St James,
PO Box 789
Lincoln City, Oregon, 97367

541-994-2426 (Church)