Sunday, November 9, 2014

"In the midst of the anxious waiting, we say: 'Come, Lord Jesus.'"

Preached by the Very Rev. Mike Kinman at Christ Church Cathedral on Sunday, November 9, 2014

Everybody breathe in.
Breathe out.
Repeat after me:
Come, Lord Jesus.

Let’s do that again.

Everybody breathe in.
Breathe out.
Repeat after me:
Come, Lord Jesus.

One more time.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Come, Lord Jesus.

Amen.

----
OK, before we really get going here, first I’ve got to stop and say: Seriously? This is the Gospel assigned for this morning? Can we just take a second and appreciate this?

In case you don’t know, our Sunday readings are pre-assigned in a three-year cycle. I could have told you 20 years ago what the Gospel for this Sunday would be. We don’t hand pick these. And yet on this day when we are all on high alert. When our whole region is moving rapidly into freakout mode as rumors fly everywhere about the exact day and hour the grand jury ruling in the Darren Wilson-Michael Brown case will be announced, what Gospel does the lectionary put before us this morning?

Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.

So can we just take a second and appreciate this?

Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.

Could there be a more perfectly chosen Gospel reading for us this morning? One that sums up better where we are as a St. Louis region right now?

Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.

Wow.

My first gut response when I read this was: “Thanks, Jesus. Got that covered.” We are well aware we don’t know the day or the hour, and it’s starting to wear on us. We have heard so many rumors and so many stories not just of when the day or the hour will be but what might happen when it comes.

As I’ve spent the past few weeks listening, I’ve heard many people predict mass demonstrations followed by a police crackdown throughout the region. I heard some one else predict the historic apathy of St. Louis will cause the reaction to be much more muted and other than a few hotspots in Ferguson, Clayton and Shaw, the rest of the region will not be affected.

I’ve heard from police who are working 18 hour days and stockpiling riot gear, who are tired of being yelled at and called racists and killers, who are tired of trying to calm worried spouses and children at home and afraid for the lives of their sisters and brothers in uniform.

I’ve heard from demonstrators who are preparing bandages and eyewash, who are tired of being treated like violent criminals when they have only been armed with signs. Young women and men for whom what they see as an inevitable nonindictment is about much more than just the facts of one case but just one more instance on top of another of black lives not mattering, and they have finally had enough of that.

I have heard from some of us who are tired and scared and wish this would go away and that I would stop talking about it already, and others of us who are saying it’s about time and are amazed this hasn’t happened sooner and this is just what the church needs to be talking about.

Everywhere I go, I hear anxiety and weariness and pain and rage … and it’s all focused on one moment in time, the moment of that announcement.

Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour? Thanks, Jesus. We’re way ahead of you there.

And yet…

And yet, there really couldn’t be a more perfect Gospel reading for this morning. Because yes, we are awake. And yes, we are living in this space of not knowing the day or the hour. And this Gospel reminds us in powerful ways how to be in this space.

This Gospel reminds us for whom we wait, how we are to wait and where this waiting will lead us.

And every step of the way, it involves taking a deep breath.

Letting it out.

And saying, “Come, Lord Jesus.”

For whom do we wait?

Like the rest of the region we are waiting for the ruling. But as followers of Jesus, that waiting is secondary. The core of our mission as a Cathedral is, “We seek a deeper relationship with God and each other in Jesus Christ.” And the story of the 10 bridesmaids reminds us that we are waiting and watching for Jesus.

And what does Jesus look like?

Jesus is the one who came because God so loved the whole world.

Jesus is the living Word made flesh that didn’t just pop in for a visit but dwelt among us as one of us.

Jesus is the one who breaks down every barrier that separates us one from another. Jesus is the one who cares less for her own life than for the life of the world.

Jesus is the shepherd who leaves the 99 and goes and searches for the one.

Jesus is the parent who welcomes back even the most prodigal, sinful child with incredible extravagance.

Jesus is the one who knows our deepest pain and Jesus is the one who desires our deepest joy.

What we are staying awake for, what we are watching for is Jesus.

As the anxieties of the world and the present moment swirl around us, we are not called to suppress our passion and pain, but we must keep our eyes on the prize, and the prize is we seek Jesus and the realm of God come on earth. We seek Jesus because Jesus draws us more deeply in relationship with God and more deeply in relationship with each other. And that is the dream God has for us all.

Yes, we are awake and waiting for the grand jury announcement. But that is not what we are watching for. Our ears are pricked and our eyes are trained looking for any sign of Jesus, any sign of love in the midst of hate, of courageous self-offering in the midst of fear, of hope in the midst of despair.

Our ears are pricked and our eyes are trained looking for any sign of Jesus and looking for him particularly in those whom we find most different from ourselves, who are most challenging for us to see as beloved images of God.

Who we are waiting for is Jesus. Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. Always.

And we have his promise that he not only will come but has always been here.

And so we take a deep breath.

And let it out.

And say, Come, Lord Jesus.

How do we wait?

It’s probably good to pause here and note that Jesus doesn’t say, “Freak out, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” He says “keep awake.”

That’s all. Just keep awake.

Anxiety and fear are never our friends. Jesus and the angels over and over and over again tell us “do not be anxious” and “be not afraid.” As Christians, that’s not because we think bad things won’t happen. It’s that we trust in the promises of Christ that no matter what happens, we will never be alone, never be abandoned, never be separated from the love of God.

Someone once said the difference between false faith and true faith is that false faith says, “do not worry; that which you fear will not happen to you” and true faith says, “do not fear, that which you fear may well happen to you; but it is nothing to be afraid of.”

We do not know what will happen when the announcement is made. It may indeed be what we fear. But we do know that no matter what happens, we will still have God, we will still have each other and we will still have Jesus. And we hold onto that. And that is what gives us courage. Courage not just to make it through the present moment and moments to come but to be Christ’s Body in the weeks, months and years to come.

So yes, we need to stay awake. But we need not fear. We need not be bouncing off the walls in panic. It’s true, we do not know the day or the hour – either of the grand jury announcement or of the coming of Christ -- but our posture is not freakout, our posture is preparation, watchfulness, waiting for Jesus.

Our posture is breathing in.

And breathing out.

And saying

Come, Lord Jesus.

Finally, this Gospel also tells us that the coming of Jesus, that drawing us more deeply in relationship with God and one another across all the barriers that divide us, is a long, long process. And Jesus is met by those who are in it for the long haul.

The foolish bridesmaids were only thinking about what was right in front of them. It was dark so they brought a lamp. They didn’t think about the next day and the next and the next. They had limited vision. They could only see as long as their lamp burns.

The wise bridesmaids were prepared. They knew that the fuel they had wasn’t going to be enough. They had to be prepared for when this fire went out to keep the flame going. The wise are ready for the long haul, realizing that the journey into Christ is a marathon not a sprint. That we need to be prepared for when the current fire burns out, that we need to still be prepared to meet Jesus then.

Watching for Jesus with extra oil is preparing for the long work of incarnation that will go on long after the grand jury decision and its aftermath is over.

Watching for Jesus with extra oil is remembering that when the cry comes out, “Look, here is the bridegroom!” the next words are “Come out to meet him!” Because the long work of seeking Jesus is not work that stays in here but that always ends with him calling us out there.

It is the long work of not just seeking Jesus across the chasms that divide us, but like Jesus dwelling with one another on the unfamiliar sides of those chasms because we truly are better together.

It is the long work of resisting the temptation to see the stranger as enemy and instead with great love and courage to reach across the divides and help one another be our best selves.

It is the long work of recognizing that even those whose actions are most offensive to us are still beloved images of God and though love demands we oppose injustice, the goal of Christ is never violent and abusive defeat of an enemy but always the return of a beloved child converted even as we ourselves need converting by the transforming power of Christ’s love.

It is the long work of being transformed by the renewing of our minds the reshaping of our hearts.

Of saying that there is not “my neighborhood” and “your neighborhood” but that together this is our city of St. Louis and living in unfamiliar places and learning to call them home..

Of saying that it’s not enough that some children in some neighborhoods can go to a great school, it has to be every child in every neighborhood going to a great school. Not just some children can walk down the street and not fear being targeted by police, but everyone’s child being able to walk down the street and not fear being targeted by the police. Not just some children can live in a world where they know they are seen as beloved children of God, but everyone’s child knowing and believing they are beloved images of God.

It is the long work of changing our hearts so that we care as much for someone else’s children as we do for our own because all children are God’s children, and that means all children are our children, too.

It’s long work because that’s not how we usually think. It’s long work because that’s not how we usually live. And even though that is God’s deep dream for us and we trust that dream will be reality some day, it’s going to take time. One lamp’s worth of oil just isn’t going to be enough. And that means we as a Cathedral community must prepare to be that people and place of justice, peace and reconciliation not just now but in the days, weeks, months and years to come.

Jesus says “Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

I’m not sure there has been a more important time for us to hear these words.

For us to be reminded that we are not so much waiting for a ruling as we are waiting for Jesus.

For us to be reminded that we are not called to freak out in fear but trusting in Jesus, to stay awake in prayerful watchfulness.

For us to be reminded that no matter how much anxiety and energy around us is directed toward one moment in time that the coming of Jesus, that drawing us more deeply in relationship with God and one another across all the chasms that divide us, is a long, long process and Jesus comes to and through those who are in it for the long haul.

For us to be reminded in the midst of the shouting and the cries, in the midst of the tears and the silent fears. In the midst of whatever will happen in the days and weeks to come, our most important calling is to take a deep breath

And let it out.

And to say, “Come, Lord Jesus.”

And to be ready to go out and meet him when he does.

Amen.

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