A sermon for evensong for the opening of the meeting of the St. Louis Chapter of the American Guild of Organists.

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Preached by the Very Rev. Mike Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral on Sunday, September 28, 2014

“Words, when spoken out loud for the sake of performance, are music. They have rhythm, and pitch, and timbre, and volume. These are the properties of music and music has the ability to find us and move us and lift us up in ways that literal meaning can’t.”

I speak for a living. I have as many of us who speak for a living, what has been called a heart full of words, words which spill out and out and out. It is one of the many reasons my wife and children will someday be considered for sainthood, and why I will assure you right now that this will be a brief homily.

When I speak and preach. When I let that heart full of words spill out, my deepest desire is that those words will move people Godward. It’s why I study things like the science of listener attention and love listening to TED talks. It’s also why I love the screenwriting of Aaron Sorkin.

Aaron Sorkin, he of The West Wing and SportsNight and The Newsroom, The American President and A Few Good Men, is to screenwriting what Monet is to watercolors. And one of my favorite pieces of his writing is a piece I just opened with. It’s from the West Wing, and Martin Sheen’s president Josiah Bartlett is talking about preaching.

Listen again to what he says:

“Words, when spoken out loud for the sake of performance, are music. They have rhythm, and pitch, and timbre, and volume. These are the properties of music and music has the ability to find us and move us and lift us up in ways that literal meaning can’t.”

This is the truth all of us who speak for a living know. That what we aspire to literally is words that sing. Because music has the ability to find us and move us and lift us up in ways that literal meaning can’t.

We just heard a piece of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians. It is some of the most beautiful and profound theology in all of scripture and it is no accident that it comes in the form of a hymn. I can say the words:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death--
even death on a cross.

Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.

I can say these words and they soar, but the reason they soar is that they hint at music. Paul is talking about the greatest act of love in all of cosmic history, the self-emptying of the Christ to be Emmanuel, God with us. I can talk about it. Paul can write about it. But theology and truth this beautiful can never be contained by mere words. It must be sung.

We are blessed this night to be not just a gathering of the faithful to sing God’s praises at the end of the day but to be a gathering of musicians who have the honor and responsibility that leaves me in awe. The honor and responsibility of leading the faithful in raising their voices in song.

You who play and lead music know that this is not about mere performance. You are taking the words of scripture, and the hearts full of words of the gathered community and you are giving them voice that is beyond words. You are leading them in finding that piece of themselves as images of God created as creators of beauty themselves.

As musicians, yours is a ministry like Christ’s. Of having immense talent and knowing that you could use it to glorify yourself. And yet you know, as every excellent choirmistress and chorister does that the most important organ in singing is not the voice it is the ear. It is listening to the voices of the people around you, blending the voices together, creating beauty that does not exalt a single individual but that creates something greater than the sum total of all the individuals for the glory of God.

The ministry of the church musician is that self-emptying mission of Christ. Offering your talents on the Eucharistic table not for their own glorification but for the life of the world.

It has never surprised me that relationships between clergy and music leaders are often, shall we say,  dynamic and fraught. Because we share this mission of gathering and self-emptying and listening. And we are all so tempted to use what we have to glorify ourselves. The powers we are wrestling with are so greater than we are. The powers that preachers try to have and musicians certainly do have is that power to find us and move us and lift us up in ways that literal meaning can’t.”

And so this night as an ambassador from the clergy side of the equation, I want to just say three things.

The first is thank you. Thank you all who play and all who sing, all who direct and all who make and lead music in any way for the glory of God and the gathering of God’s people. Thank you for all the hours of practice. Thank you for the listening and the blending. Thank you for helping move us and lift us up in ways that literal meaning can’t

The second is a reminder that the mission we share – the mission of gathering people around the presence of Christ and uniting us in Christ’s name – perhaps has never been more important. As our city is breaking apart in struggles of race and class, it has never been more important for us to listen to one another and to learn how to blend our voices. It has never been more important for us to model for one another that self-giving life and love of Jesus Christ.

The third is a request and a pledge. When your relationships with clergy get tense and fraught, let us remember that we are dealing with cosmic powers that are greater than all of us and in the midst of it we must remind each other that the place where we meet is the foot of the cross. We must model for the church and the world the love of the cross. Giving up ourselves for the other and for the life of the world. Pray for us as clergy and know that I am always telling my sisters and brothers to pray for you as well.

In many ways you musicians are my heroes. I am honored to call you fellow travelers on the way of the cross. You find me, move me and lift me up in ways that nothing else can. You give at least one preacher hope that my words can some day do at least a little of the same.

Amen.

"The Mind of Christ and the Privilege of Love" - a sermon for the 16th Sunday after Pentecost

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Preached by the Very Rev. Mike Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral on Sunday, September 28, 2014

“There is nothing romantic or supernatural about loving someone: Love is the privilege of being responsible for another.”

There’s a word that has been spoken a lot recently.

It is a powerful word. A word we need to hear if we are to come closer together and a word that has the power to tear us further apart. A word that resonates with some of us as deep truth and for some of us feels like an unbearable personal attack.

It is a word I have heard more in the 50 days since Mike Brown was killed than in the 500 or maybe even 5,000 days before.

The word is privilege.

Privilege is the power that is given to some and not to others. It is all the unearned advantages some of us have and others of us do not merely by how we were born. The obstacles some of us don’t have to overcome and others of us do only by virtue of our race, class, gender, sexual orientation, the list goes on and on and on.

The conversation about privilege is one of the hardest conversations we can have because those of us who have privilege usually don’t realize it. That means the burden is almost always on those of us who don’t have privilege to point it out to those of us who do. And when someone does confront us with our privilege, we generally don’t react too well. Because often what we think they’re saying is:

“You’re a bad person.”

or “You didn’t work hard to get where you are.”

or “You’ve had it easy.”

And we get defensive.

And if that was what privilege meant, we’d have every right to be defensive. Because we are good people. And most of us did and do work hard. And as we struggle with jobs, kids, relationships, aging parents, financial worries, and on and on and on, if we feel like someone is telling us how easy we’ve got it, well it kind of makes us mad. It kind of makes us want to say “You think I’ve got it easy? You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But that’s not what privilege is about.

Now, I can say this because I am an authority on privilege. I am a white, heterosexual, educated, upper middle class, American man. This entire planet is structured to my advantage. Privilege is real, and I oughta know because I have more of it than 99.9% of the people on earth. And acknowledging that does not change the fact that I am a good person. It does not change the fact that I have worked hard and continue to work hard. It does not mean that I’ve had it easy.

It does mean there are obstacles I have never had to overcome that others have. It does mean that even though I don’t have it easy, I have it so much easier than many, many others – mostly in ways I cannot comprehend.

It does mean that I have incredible power and access to systems of power and so that means I have some choices to make.

Will I acknowledge that power?

Will I claim that power?

Will I spend my life trying to hold onto that power and exploit it for my own gain, or will I give it up and use it to work for a world where no one is privileged over the other just because of how they are born. Will I use my privilege to work for a world where, as Jesus exhorted last week, all are given the privilege of work and wage, a world where, as Paul writes, there is “no Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female for all are one in Christ Jesus.”

Will I realize the greatest privilege is the one we all have. The privilege of being able to love? And will I use every ounce of my privilege to do just that?

A few minutes ago, I read you some words from one of my favorite 21st century Episcopal theologians, author John Green. Let me read those words again:

“There is nothing romantic or supernatural about loving someone: Love is the privilege of being responsible for another.”

John Green is preachin’ it here.

“There is nothing romantic or supernatural about loving someone. Love is the privilege of being responsible for another.”

That’s a pretty good summation of the Gospel. Love is the privilege of being responsible for one another. Love is the privilege of giving up our lives for one another.

It’s why in our marriage liturgy we say to one another “with all that I am and all that I have, I honor you.” It’s why in our baptism liturgy we all promise to “do all in our power to support (the newly baptized) in her life in Christ.”

As followers of Jesus, our entire faith is built on this foundation. This morning’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Philippians is one of the oldest Christian texts and it is the oldest Christian hymn. For my money, you could throw out the entire New Testament save for this passage, and we would have all that we need.

The passage is called the Christ Hymn … because it literally sings all we need to know about who Christ is and who Jesus yearns for us to follow him in being. And at its heart, it is about privilege, about our acknowledging it and about what we do with it.

It is about not seeing privilege as something to be grasped and protected and exploited for ourselves but about giving it away for the greater privilege of love.

Paul writes this hymn to the church in Philippi, but he really sings it to we who would follow Jesus throughout time and space. And in singing this hymn, Paul lovingly holds a mirror up to us. Paul and Jesus invite us to look at our own individual lives and our life together as a nation, as a region and as a Cathedral congregation. And Paul’s plea is to us when he sings “let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death--
even death on a cross.”

That’s our challenge this morning. For us to look at ourselves in this mirror. To see ourselves for who we are. With all the power and privilege that we have. And seeing it, not looking to the world for examples of how to use that power and privilege but letting the same mind be in us that is in Christ Jesus.

To look at all that we are and all that we have. Those of us who have more – more money, more power, more access to better education, more property value, more voice and at the same time have fewer barriers to sustaining those things we really need to survive. To ask ourselves are we seeing both those advantages and lack of barriers as something to be exploited for ourselves or do we look across the chasms of race, class, gender, sexual orientation and say “with all that I have and all that I am, I honor you.” And “I will do all in my power to support you in your life in Christ.”

But this hymn does not just sing us out into this St. Louis region with its yawning chasms of race and class as reconciling ambassadors of Christ. It holds that mirror up to us within this community as well.

What does it mean for us as Christ Church Cathedral to have the mind of Christ?

We have been blessed and gifted with so much.

Just look at this beautiful space. The incredible gift of these buildings that have stood here for nearly 150 years. Do we see them as something to be grasped, to be exploited for our own personal ends? Or do we have in us the mind of Christ Jesus and ask ourselves “what does emptying ourselves look like?” What does it look like to give these beautiful spaces for the life of the world, humbling ourselves and even when we consider how these spaces are used, privileging the needs of others over the desires and needs of ourselves? Giving up the privilege of control for the greater privilege of love.

Do we use our money with the mind of Christ? Do we see our money as something to be grasped and exploited for our own personal needs and desires? Or do we have the mind of Christ Jesus and with our money in our hands ask ourselves “what does emptying ourselves look like?” even boldly privileging the needs of others over the desires and needs of ourselves? Giving up the privilege of control for the greater privilege of love.

Together as a Cathedral, we have an endowment of close to eight and a half million dollars. Do we see that only as a pile of financial security for our own survival? Do we see our treasure as something to be grasped and exploited for our own personal needs and desires? Or can we have the mind of Christ Jesus and with this incredible gift ask ourselves “what does emptying ourselves look like?” even in how we invest that money boldly privileging the needs of the world over our own desires and needs. Giving up the privilege of control for the greater privilege of love.

Perhaps most challenging to face is the privilege accorded to those of us who have been a part of this Cathedral community the longest. The leadership of our longtime members has been, continues to be and will always be crucial to the life of this Cathedral. AND we are at a time when we are blessed with the gifts of so many new and often younger people in our midst. For those of us who have been here the longest, who currently hold most of the positions of authority at Christ Church Cathedral – do we see that power and privilege as something to be grasped and used for our own desires? Or can we have the mind of Christ Jesus and ask ourselves “what does emptying ourselves look like?” What does it look like to share the privilege of leadership and to invite the wisdom of others, knowing that it will mean change. Knowing that the Body of Christ always means heart-breaking change. Giving up the privilege of control for the greater privilege of love.

Jesus had the ultimate privilege. He was in the form of God. You can’t get more privileged than that. But he saw something far greater to do with that privilege than to use it for his own ends. He knew that there was a greater privilege – the privilege to love. The privilege to use all he was and all he had to be responsible for and care for one another. The privilege to empty himself in love into human form and, being found in human form, humbling himself even to unto death upon the cross. And this morning he looks us in the eyes and says, we can do it, too. Really, we can.

In John Green’s most famous work, The Fault in Our Stars, two cancer-riddled teenagers, Hazel Grace and Augustus, are falling in love, but Hazel Grace is afraid to let Augustus love her because if her cancer ends up killing her she fears it will break his heart. That her death will be like a grenade lobbed onto his heart.

“I don’t ever want to do that to you,” she tells him.

“Oh, I wouldn't mind, Hazel Grace,” Augustus replies with a loving smile. “It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.”

Having the mind of Christ, seeing our privilege not as something to be grasped and exploited but emptying ourselves for the sake of one another is the riskiest, hardest, most painful and most glorious thing we will ever do with our lives. It is taking our hearts out of their safe prisons and putting them on the table with Christ’s and each other’s, knowing that as that bread is broken, so was Jesus body and so our hearts will be also.

Jesus is bidding us this day to sacrifice the privilege of the world for the privilege of love. To know the joy of being responsible for one another across the barriers that divide us. To welcome our hearts breaking not as a wound to be feared but a privilege to be embraced.

Amen.

"The blessing of work and wage: A Sunday morning marriage sermon"

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Preached by the Very Rev. Mike Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral on Sunday, September 14, 2014 at the marriage of Tom Gardner and Dennis Goffin at the 10 am Eucharist.

`Friend, I am doing you no wrong.”

You might have noticed there’s something different about this Sunday.

Every Sunday is a celebration but this Sunday, we are celebrating that as a part of our life together, Tom Gardner and Dennis Goffin are giving themselves to each other in a specific covenant of love. And we are here to witness and bless this sacred union.

Now as I’ve done before on Sundays like this, let me press pause here just for a second and say a few words about that phrase: "sacred union."

We are always playing catch-up with God. It's human nature. Jesus holds up a beautiful vision for humanity ... a vision of total reconciliation of all people to God and each other ... and we always seem to fall short. We’re learning. We're growing toward Christ's dream for us, but we're not there yet.

And so, when we talk about the covenant Dennis and Tom are entering into today, we use the term “sacred union.” We use that term because as a church that has vowed to stay together and work out our salvation with humility, fear and trembling, as a whole body we aren't at the place yet where we can call this what it really is. And of course what this covenant really is … is marriage.

I know it's marriage.

You know it's marriage.

God knows it's marriage.

But as an Anglican Communion and certainly as the state of Missouri, we aren't all there yet. We’re living in this place of tension between believing that this is marriage and believing God binds us together in communion with people who believe just as passionately and very differently – and that we are responsible to one another in those relationships, too.

So even though we know it is marriage, we call it a “sacred union” because it is that, too. And we work for the day when we won’t have to play these word games that frankly are pretty insulting and beneath all of us. And providentially, God gives us a gift for that work this morning. A gift in the form of a parable. The parable of the landowner.

In this morning’s parable, we hear God compared to a landowner who paid laborers who worked the whole day the same as those who worked only a few hours. Jesus is pushing our buttons with this story. He’s trying to make us react the same way the full-day laborer does. He’s trying to offend our sense of justice, to make us scream: “That’s not fair!”

Jesus offends our sense of justice because he wants to expand our sense of justice. Take us beyond the simplistic “as ye sow so shall ye reap” to the paradoxical “last will be first and the first will be last.” Jesus wants to show us the difference between karma and grace and invite every single person into the dignity and joy that is the kingdom of God.

And so when the landowner replies to the offended daylong laborer, he’s really speaking to all of us. And he says “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?'

The landowner sees something that the daylong laborer does not. Because while the daylong laborer was working, the landowner was out scouring the streets for people who were out of work and bringing them into the vineyard. And to the last of thes, we hear him ask the question “why are you standing around idle” to which they answer:

“Because no one has hired us.”

Why are you standing around idle?

Not because we are lazy.

Not because we aren’t able to work.

Not because we don’t want to work.

We are standing around idle because nobody will hire us.

Can you hear the pain in their voices?

Can we hear it in this place? Can we hear it on our streets?

Some among us today are out of work. There are sisters and brothers among us who have been out of work for a long while, who are tempted into hopelessness, who maybe even have given up looking for work. Some among us fear losing our jobs or have experienced job loss in past year or two.

As we listen to these voices among us, there is chorus they sing in unison.

It’s not just about the wages. It’s about the work.

When we are out of work. When we fear being out of work, the crisis we face is not just financial. It is a crisis of purpose and meaning and dignity. It is why so many of us in retirement stay just as busy as we were when we were quote-unquote “working.” It is the central fact that people who scream about “welfare queens” and the “taker class” absolutely miss. That although we all love a vacation and although we might not love our current job, we want to work. We need to work. And when we descend into idleness it is usually because the right to work has been denied.

The truth of this parable, the truth of our lives is the work is as much a gift as the wage. Work gives us purpose. Work gives us dignity. We are created in God’s image, which means we are created to labor six days and rest one. Work is not punishment for which wages are a reward. Work is gift, and wages are grace upon grace. And the kingdom of God is when work and wages are offered in abundance to all.

Marriage is work.

Marriage is hard work. We all know this. Whether we are married or not, whether we have been married or not, we all know that keeping this covenant is hard work. It is why it wasn’t enough for Dennis and Tom to go across the river and sign a marriage license in Illinois. Like everything else about following Jesus, marriage is much too difficult and much too rewarding for us to do by ourselves. Marriage is hard work. It’s why Dennis and Tom aren’t the only ones who are making vows this morning. It’s why we also are making our vows to pray for them and support them in this labor of love all the days of their life.

Marriage is work. And that means the struggle for marriage equality is about the right to work as much as it is about the right to wage. Yes, it is about the many benefits of marriage - legal, societal, financial and otherwise - that come with the contract of the state. But it is about so much more than that. It is about the sense of purpose and meaning and dignity that comes from having the ability to give our lives in intimate, mutual, self-giving love to another person in all of its glory and all of its challenge until we are parted by death.

The struggle for marriage equality is about nothing less than this parable. It is about we as followers of Jesus proclaiming boldly the Gospel that all are created in God’s image and all have the right to express that blessedness in the work of marriage and that all deserve the full benefits, the grace upon grace that comes from marriage in this state and in this nation.

And it is also about we as followers of Jesus proclaiming boldly the loving Gospel truth that Jesus puts on the lips of the landowner. Because there are those among us who look at extending the right to the work of marriage and the right to the benefits of marriage to all and grumble and cry out as the full-day laborer does: “not fair!” as if allowing these benefits to Dennis and Tom or any two people who are willing and longing to do the hard work of marriage is somehow an injustice and an injury to those of us who have had that purpose and meaning and dignity and benefit all along.

This morning is not just for Dennis and Tom. This morning is not just for this Cathedral community. This morning, we are a people sent to those among us who would say that what we do here today is wrong, who would say that marriage is reserved only for the few and not for the all.

This morning, we are a people sent with the message Jesus gives us on the lips of the landowner, the words we believe God is saying this morning as we announce God’s blessing of the MARRIAGE of Dennis and Tom.

We are sent to seek out those among us who are offended and believe they are injured by Tom and Dennis’ marriage, who believe they are injured by our celebration today.

And the first thing we say is “Friend.”

We look one another in the eye across our differences and we say “friend.” We say “Friend” because there are no enemies in the Body of Christ. There are only hearts of friends longing to be converted by the love of Christ. Hands of friends reaching out to bring one another along on the journey into Christ. Lips of friends struggling boldly and lovingly to proclaim the Gospel of Christ as we greet one another with a holy kiss.

And as we bless and celebrate and pledge to share in the work of Tom and Dennis’ marriage, we say to those who would take offense or injury at that, “Friend, we are doing you no wrong.” “Friend, God is doing you no wrong.”

We say, “Friend, Dennis and Tom’s marriage does not injure you.” Do you not still have available the blessing, dignity and benefits that marriage brings? Is God not allowed to do what God chooses with the blessings of work and the blessings of love?

We say, “Friend, do not fear. Do not be envious because God is so generous. Let us not be divided in enmity and envy but let us be together in joy and love. Let us all come together and not fear that all are given the gift of labor and the benefit of wage. Let us all come together and rejoice that we have a God who loves us all without condition and without end. “

Dennis and Tom, will you please stand.

This day is long overdue. And to your everlasting credit, all of our everlasting benefit and God’s everlasting joy, you have done the work of marriage year after year without the benefit of the wages knowing that the work is its own reward. Far from injuring those like Robin and I who enjoy both the benefits of work and wage, you have inspired and built us up and made our marriage stronger by your witness.

Would the rest of us please stand as we are able.

Dennis, Tom, I’m asking all of us to stand because today we all stand with you.

We stand with you this day not asking God to bless something new but giving thanks for what God has been blessing all along.

We stand with you this day pledging that the work you do in your marriage. Work that is hard but that brings purpose, meaning and dignity is work that you do not do alone but that we share in this day and for the rest of your days.

We stand with you this day as a people sent to reach out in love to those who believe they are injured by your marriage and with bold love to say “Friend, God is doing you no wrong. Join with us in the labor. Join with us in the love.”

Dennis and Tom, sisters and brothers, we stand together this day. We stand together as a people united in the trust that we are loved by our creator God without limit and without end, and that our greatest challenge, our highest purpose, our deepest joy is to ensure that both the work and wage of that love is available to all.

And to that let the church say Alleluia.

Let the church say Amen.

"Have the Conversation" - a sermon for the 13th Sunday after Pentecost

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Preached by the Very Rev. Mike Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral on Sunday, September 7, 2014

Jesus said, "If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.”

Have the conversation.

I could sit down right now. Because this morning, that’s really all Jesus has to say to us. Three words:

Three words that will make every relationship in our lives better.

Three words that will make us people of integrity and strength.

Have the conversation.

That’s pretty much it. It’s that simple.

It’s that simple. But it’s not easy.

Because the conversation is hard.

The conversation is scary.

Even thinking about having the conversation puts a pit in our stomachs and sweat on our palms. In fact, imagining having the conversation often ends up being so much worse than actually having it.

So most of the time we don’t have the conversation.

We’ll try to pretend we haven’t heard, seen or felt things to avoid the conversation.

We’ll tolerate ridiculous behavior instead of having the conversation.

We’ll even have a conversation with everyone except the person we should be having the conversation with.

So when Jesus says “have the conversation” it is that simple and it is not that easy. Like everything else about following Jesus it is both too difficult and too rewarding to do on our own.

Like everything else about following Jesus, we need each other to do this right.

So let’s talk about the conversation.

Jesus said, "If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.”

“If another member of the church sins against you.” The first thing we learn is the conversation is about conflict. It’s about what we do when we have been hurt. That’s the first reason it’s hard, because first thing we have to do is recognize that we are wounded. That someone has hurt us. And that means admitting that we are hurtable. The conversation begins with our own vulnerability.

We are hurt. And maybe hurt also means annoyed, angry, vexed, horked, devastated, exasperated, troubled, aggrieved, or outraged. Whatever it is, the words or actions of another person have touched something in us. Something that says “this is not right.” And that “not rightness” has created a breach, a break in relationship. And that break will continue to exist and grow unless something is done about it.

So what is to be done?

At this point, it’s important to note what Jesus does not say:

Jesus does not say, “If another member of the church sins against you, don’t worry about it because they’re not worth the trouble.”

He also doesn’t say, “If another member of the church sins against you, go to someone else and tell them how terrible the person who hurt you is.”

Nor does he say, “If another member of the church sins against you, say something snarky under your breath, roll your eyes and sigh, or leave a nasty comment on their Facebook page.”

Jesus says, “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.”

Have the conversation. In private. Just the two of you.

We go in private because having the conversation is not about shaming or winning. Having the conversation is about growing and healing. It is about loving the other person enough to risk the conflict to be vulnerable and honest. About healing the break in relationship that happens when we hurt one another and violate the covenant of love that binds the community together.

That means the conversation is about speaking Truth. My Truth. Your Truth. Our Truth.

Your Truth, My Truth is about integrity. Your Truth is about having your heart line up with your words. It is the truth of your experience and nobody can argue with it. If you tell someone, “I feel hurt.” They can’t say “No you don’t!” It’s Your Truth. Speaking Your Truth means beginning the conversation with integrity, honesty and vulnerability.

Our Truth is also about integrity. Our integrity. It is about whether how we act lines up with what we say we believe as followers of Jesus.

As followers of Jesus, Our Truth is “Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength and love your neighbor as yourself.” Our Truth is when Jesus bids us “Love one another as I have loved you,” knowing that how Jesus loves us is caring more about the other than we do about ourselves.

Our Truth means naming those standards of love and inviting the difficult conversation about what it means to live them … and just as important how we can help one another to live them.

Speaking My Truth, Your Truth, Our Truth means beginning the conversation with integrity, honesty and vulnerability, going out on that limb and inviting each other to meet us there. It’s that simple but it’s not easy because going out on that limb is scary for everyone involved. It’s why so often we shy away from having the conversation. But our ability to have the conversation is literally the difference of whether we will be the Body of Christ or not.

That’s because our ability to have the conversation is not about getting along and being nice but about nothing less than whether our relationships, our communities and our entire lives will be about integrity or hypocrisy. Because as often as we say “Love your neighbor as yourself.” As often as we quote Jesus saying “Love one another as I have loved you,” if we don’t have the conversations that hold ourselves and one another to that standard, we are just one more institution where the music sounds good on the surface but underneath it’s the same old song.

Our ability to have the conversation is about nothing less than whether we will mimic the world or transform the world. Each of us and all of us.

That’s why Jesus doesn’t just say, “try it once and if it doesn’t work, well, you gave it a shot.” Jesus says we try and then we try again and then we try again.

Go to the person in private. If that doesn’t work, expand the conversation to include a few other people, a few more Truths, a broader perspective. If that doesn’t heal the breach, bring the whole community into the conversation.

If that seems excessive, it’s only because our love for one another and the importance of us holding each other in that love is excessive. Because Jesus’ love for us – each of us and all of us – is excessive.

Because we believe holding each other to that standard of love is so important that we need to be willing to risk the uncomfortability, risk the pit in the stomach and the sweat on the palms, even risk the loss of relationship and friendship, of love and peace in our lives, risk the messiness that can and will disrupt our life when we deal with conflict openly, honestly and with integrity and vulnerability.

Having the conversation is about spouses and families, lovers and friends, taking the time to press pause, turn off the screens, look each other in the eyes and speak and hear scary truths to and from one another.

Having the conversation is about each of us in this community loving one another enough to press pause, say “can we talk?” and speak plainly and listen deeply to Your Truth and Our Truth together.

Having the conversation means not only having the courage to risk starting the conversation, but when someone comes to us with a truth to tell about our actions and words, to recognize it is an act of love and courage and to meet them in that place of love and courage as well.

Having the conversation is about loving one another enough to hold each other to our best selves. For us at Christ Church Cathedral, we have 10 Rules of Respect that we adopted several years ago and that are in your bulletin this morning. They give us a structure for making sure our words and actions line up. That we are community of mutual love and brave concern. That we are not just hearers of the word of Christ but doers, livers and lovers of that Word as well.

And that means having another conversation, too. One we are having today.

Jesus talks about having the conversation of conflict, but there is another conversation that is every bit as important. The conversation of appreciation. The conversation of celebration.

That is the conversation that happens when we refuse to take one another for granted. When just as we risk pointing out where each other falls short of loving as Christ loves, we seek out and celebrate the places where we get it right. We seek out and celebrate the deep grace in one another’s words, actions and presence and lift it up for all to see.

It is also a conversation of vulnerability and integrity, of Your Truth and Our Truth. Of saying, “I am so grateful for you” and “you know when Jesus says, ‘love one another as I have loved you?’ well when you did this, that’s how I felt.”

Jesus has just three words for us this morning. Three powerful words.

Three words that will make every relationship in our lives better.

Three words that will make us people of integrity and strength.

Have the conversation.

Amen.