The reading
from the prophet Haggai reminded me of an old joke for which there are several
punch lines.
Question: How many Episcopalians does it take to change
a light bulb?
A: Seven: Five people to form a committee, one
to mix the martinis, and one to call the electrician.
B: Whaddya mean change the light bulb – my
grandmother gave that light bulb!
C: None…we just sit around and reminisce about
how wonderful the old light bulb used to be.
In 520 BCE,
the exiles have returned from Babylon, thanks to Cyrus, the emperor’s, decree. Now they are attempting to restore the temple
to its former glory with the blessing of the new emperor Darius. Things aren’t going so well. There are several reasons:
A: The
priority of faith is lost to the priority of personal security and
comfort. A spiritual center is no longer
the focus of the people’s lives.
B: Those who
have some institutional memory of the first temple (even though they probably never
saw it) sit watching the work and reminding the community of all they’ve done
in the past to keep the faith and that the young people will never measure up.
C: The rest
just want the same church they’re parents had without having to make a commitment
toward its restoration.
That’s when
the light bulb went on over my head: the
more things change, the more they stay the same! The call of the prophet Haggai to the people
of ancient Judah bidding them to reconstruct the Temple is our call as well.
The Episcopal
Church, as a denomination, and the Diocese of Southern Ohio are both
undertaking projects to re-imagine and restructure the church as we know
it. I believe both are at the stage we
find the Jerusalem community in Haggai’s time.
We search through the rubble and charred ruins of what was once loved
trying to find something to resuscitate.
We have no doubt that the way we are doing business needs to change if
we’re to be in relationship with people today.
It’s just that we want it to change for other people and not ourselves;
we think it is someone else’s job; or, we’d rather just cocoon ourselves into
our safe abodes and forget about the rest of the world.
We are going
to spend time, talent, and treasure to eventually face what is already a
foregone conclusion: The rational, scientific, overworked, overcommitted, world
the church lives in thinks we’re boring, irrelevant, and optional. The problem is that in doing so, we’re
looking backwards.
Our theme for
the month of November is “What God has been and done, God will be and do.” This is not a statement of the past – it is a
proclamation for the future. And while
it never hurts for an organization or institution to examine its structures and
work to improve how it operates, we so often forget that we’re really not about
the institution.
We forget
that this isn’t about us.
I was
reminded of this on Wednesday at the noon Eucharist when we remembered William
Temple, the Archbishop of Canterbury in the early-1940s. Temple wasn’t remembered so much for being an
archbishop as he was for encouraging and empowering the laity to take their
place in the ministry of the church. He also understood that the church was not
an extension of the nearest country club or the private religious home of the
perfect. Temple didn’t believe that the church existed for the people in the
pews at all!
He is oft
quoted as saying “The church is the only social society that exists for those
who aren’t here yet.” His work
challenged the status quo within the institutional church as well as of the
balance of profit and service to the community.
It was
interesting to hear our keynote speaker at convention talk about the role of
the deacon in the church. She talked about the ministry of deacons in the
context of the baptismal covenant in order to remind us that we are all in
ministry together. She said at one point
that one role that deacons play is to help goad the church into exile. INTO, not out of….exile. At the time it seemed like such a contrast to
this lesson. Or is it?
When the
people of Israel were in exile, they had to trust God. When they were in the wilderness with Moses,
they had to trust God. Now that they
have returned from exile, God has taken a back seat to security and
privilege. Having returned from exile,
it was now all about them.
It’s not
about them and it’s not about us, and it isn’t about the institutional church.
It’s more than balancing a budget or growing attendance.
Ultimately,
it all comes down to how much we’re willing to trust God and work toward the
reign of God in our lifetime.
Ultimately, that’s what Advent is about.
We know things are a mess. We know the ‘good old days’ are gone. But, do we remember that God is with us?
God’s encouragement
rings through the voices of the prophets.
“Take courage.” “I am with you.” “My spirit abides with you.” “Do not fear.”
Each time we
courageously step out to do a new ministry as individuals or as community, we
are making a choice for the reign of God.
Each time we say “no more” to a ministry we’ve done but it doesn’t work
anymore, we are saying “we trust God” with the future. When we stop thinking about ministry as “we”
helping “them” and begin understanding it as “us” helping “each other,” the
shackles of racism, misogyny, homophobia, and prejudice will begin to rust and
crumble. As we become aware of the presence of God in every aspect of our
lives, we will discover that people around us will get caught up in the
Spirit’s transformative power and we all will be changed for the better.
God has been
for God’s people a constant source of glory and confidence. God will be this source no matter what new
things might signal God’s presence.
God has
always and will always do great things for God’s people. However, God requires that we have courage, remember
that it’s not about us, and work for justice. We too are called to rebuild – not a temple
made of stone, but a temple of commitment to our relationship with God. Remember that as we begin our Advent
season.
Amen.
