<html><body>Rough draft - part 1<div><br></div><div>Bob</div><div><br></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">THE
EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN, ALBANY THE
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">1 KINGS
18:20-39 PROPER
4 c<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">GALATIANS
1:1-12 29<sup>th</sup> MAY, 2016<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">LUKE
7:1-10 PSALM
96<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> It’s about compassion. Compassion
and faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> I remember certain things about my
first year at university. Yes, that was right after universities were founded,
but I wasn’t in the first class. What’s more, I remember going to University
Chapel services every Sunday morning. But, even more amazing, I remember some things
from the sermons back then. In particular, one of the verses from this
morning’s Gospel passage.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> In case you’re curious, I don’t do
Sudoku, nor am I a regular crossword puzzle habitué, And I don’t associate with
Lumosity <sup>®</sup>, so I’m not sure why on earth I should remember some of
these details. It’s not as if I never forget anything. Far from it! So what was
it about university? What was it about the Chapel service? What was it about
that one sermon, or some of the others? What imprinted itself in such a way
that it’s hard-wired into my brain?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Back then, of course, it was the
King Kames version, the Authorised Version, of the Bible that was used. Someone
said that the ink was still wet on the page! Was that why it registered so
strongly with me? “<span style="background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-size: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial;">Lord, trouble not
thyself: for I am not worthy that thou shouldest enter under my roof: … but say
in a word, and my servant shall be healed.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> I was amazed at what the centurion
said. What a concept! To think that someone would refuse entertaining Jesus
because of a feeling of unworthiness. I know that some Scots have mixed
feelings about self-esteem. They struggle with that still, along with an
insufferable cockiness sometimes. It’s a weird combination. Maybe that’s why
these words from that sermon, as well as the image of the preacher, imprinted
themselves on my brain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> But there’s more! What must have
helped make that imprint was what was said about this verse. For the first time
I remember, it was connected with the celebration of Communion, specifically,
the act of receiving the elements of Bread and Wine.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Now, remember, this was a Church of
Scotland Chapel – a Presbyterian Shop. I was accustomed to Communion four times a year, whether I needed it or
not. I was – I still am! – a Preacher’s Kid, one of those snotty-nosed
creatures who couldn’t be told anything about Church and worship, because we
knew it all. After all, <b><u>WE</u></b>
had a direct line! So there <b><u>WERE</u></b>
times when my mind went on auto pilot and I didn’t hear everything the leader
was saying. But I was brought up short in what must have been my first
liturgics seminar when the preacher said, “You know, there are some people who
say this verse at every celebration of Communion. There are some people for
whom this is such a momentous act that it almost scares them spitless. So they
sort of half-hold God at arms’ length and say, ‘Don’t come any closer.’ And, at
the same time, they imply that God can work wonders with you and me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Imagine how that struck me that
Sunday morning, coming across these words in that context.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Again, particularly to a Scot, it’s
not that hard to think about unworthiness. In many cases, that was played up so
strongly that the word was practically our middle name. Both ethnically and
theologically, we take seriously the whole concept of worthiness, especially
worthiness before God. Extraordinarily seriously!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Thank goodness, there <b><u>ARE</u></b> friends who will, from time
to time, touch our arms and reassure us that we’re only half as bad as we make
ourselves out to be. That can be really comforting and, if it happens often
enough, then we can begin to take ourselves seriously and acknowledge that we <b><u>DO</u></b> have <b><u>SOME</u></b> good points, and that we might even be slightly useful.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Such were the local leaders who spoke to
Jesus on behalf of the Roman centurion. They seemed to friendlily disposed
towards him. It didn’t matter the rank of the militia man, he was an agent of
the occupying forces, who’d do anything they liked, whenever they liked.
Somehow, though, this centurion worked both for and with the local Jewish
citizens. He not only won their trust. He won their respect. <b><u>AND</u></b> he built them a synagogue, a
space specific to worship of a God whom the Romans didn’t recognise, whom they
didn’t honour in the least. This man had been touched, deeply, somehow, by the
witness of the people whom he’d been ordered to subjugate.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> So the city elders had no hesitation <span style="color:#333333">interceding on the centurion’s behalf.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> This in itself is incredibly
enlightening. Transfer this to any nation, any situation, in the world today.
Picture the occupying force. Think about how terribly wrong things can go. Imagine
the orders coming down from the top: “Do whatever it takes. We don’t want any
uprisings. We don’t want any arguments. Make sure you stamp out an thoughts of
individualism, or rights, of self-worth. If you put the people down right away,
they’ll know their place, and they’ll know who’s boss.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> It’s so familiar that it’s almost
expected. Yet this centurion, despite the edict of Rome, apparently gave the
locals their dignity, their feeling of self-worth. He even permitted them to be
free to worship and practice their rituals so that there was genuine friendship
and compassion. The bond was so strong that the leaders interceded on his behalf with Jesus. Compassion begets
compassion – and healing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> <b><u>THIS</u></b>
is what we’re supposed to be doing. Interceding for others – the local leaders
for the centurion; the centurion for the servant; Jesus for all of them; it
could go on and on – Interceding for others.. God already knew the centurion. God
already knows everyone in creation, but God looks for our intercession on behalf
of others. God wants to find in us such a reciprocity of compassion that the
other – even if she or her may appear to in control and part of some occupying
force – God wants us to be there as loving intermediators who will bring every
other person to God’s Presence, to know the peace and the healing there.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> As tall an order as it may be for us to
nurture relationships, to foster dignity in others, no matter who they are,
what they think, how they speak; as tall an order as this is, there’s more to
the story. There is the recognition of how far short of God’s righteousness we
fall.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Somehow, the centurion saw his
unworthiness. Somehow, he was able to admit that his rank, his privileges, his
upbringing, his social standing were not definitive of who he was and how he
compared to others. Somehow, he was able to set aside pride and self-importance
and to recognise who Jesus was. Somehow, he was able to see Jesus clearly, which
is more than I can say about myself, on occasion, and, I’m guessing more than
you may say about yourselves too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Was this the work of the Holy Spirit? I
don’t know. It certainly could have been. I’d like to think that it was so.
That <b><u>IS </u></b>how God guides,
whether we’re aware of it or not. It’s
still a matter of being open to the leading of the Spirit, though.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> It’s about compassion is how I put it at
the beginning of the sermon. There’s so much compassion everywhere in this
story. Long before Jesus arrived, the centurion helped the villagers. And if he
built, or worked with them to build their synagogue, I’d bet he helped them
when some of their homes needed fixing up, or their children cared for an
educated, or their old parents fed. It’s not a matter of building up political
capital, as some people might suggest. Although, he certainly build up good
will. Without even hearing that Jesus existed, without thinking that his
servant might fall mortally ill, that centurion began doing what was right,
regardless of what those further up the chain of command might think.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> In life, there is a rightness which must
be embraced, no matter what others think. In life, there is a sense of decency,
of respect, of honour that fills one, or should fill one, in such a way that we
place the other’s needs before our own.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""> Was <b><u>THAT</u></b>
the Holy Spirit, touching that commander’s heart and mind? Was that which inspired
the locals to accept the foreigner’s help and to get to know him well enough so
that they would be able to speak for him later? Is <b><u>THIS</u></b> how <b><u>WE</u></b>
are to live, not looking over our shoulder so that others will see and give us
another brownie point, but simply responding to the needs of others? Surely it
is. And surely it <b><u>IS</u></b> the
Spirit working within us to help us open every responsive fibre of our being to
touch someone else in need.<o:p></o:p></span></p></div><div><br></div></body></html>