October 25, 2015: May God’s words alone be spoken, may God’s words alone be heard. Amen.
This has been quite the week at Christ Church. We have celebrated the lives of two very different people, but tied together in a common bond of connection to this parish. The Friday funeral was for Richard Millar, a chorister in the Buck Coursen days, who was, as those who knew him best, a kind gentleman. He had lived to the age of 92, and his son, a musician and choir director, played a beautiful tribute to him on our grand piano. The other funeral was very different. It was for a young man, only 26, tragically losing his life in a horrific car accident. His name was Johnny Muller. Johnny also had ties here. He came here as a small boy with his father, who was again – a chorister in Buck Coursen’s choir, along with his sister many years ago. Johnny had just graduated from Montclair State, and was a promising writer pursuing his graduate degree at Rutgers. More than 350 people came here, to this place, on Thursday morning to celebrate his life, and to grieve deeply the loss of one so young.
Two lives, two funerals, many vulnerable and pained people, coming here – intersecting in this sacred space – we call our parish home. This was holy time for those who were in mourning.
And then Friday night into Saturday afternoon, your vestry spent time together out at Crossroads Camp & Retreat Center as part of our annual vestry retreat. It was a time of prayerful listening and discernment as we thought about the ways in which we encounter Jesus here at Christ Church. We used the recent news story of a 16th century church that has emerged from the depths when a drought brought the water levels of a Mexican reservoir very low, to consider the ways this might be a metaphor for us. There was time for scripture, prayer, reflection, and we ended sharing Holy Eucharist together. This was holy time for the spiritual leadership of this parish.
This week was filled with holy times in this place, or coming out of this place. I suppose every week we can say that, but this week brought a whole new light on today’s gospel.
In the gospel story today, Bartimaeus, a blind man, as Jesus walks past, calls out to him. Told to be quiet by those around him, he shouted out even more. Jesus tells them to call Bartimaeus over. And, in a rather odd detail, it says that he sprang up, threw off his cloak, and went to Jesus.
Now, the cloak was likely the only garment this man, reduced to begging, had to protect him from the elements. To shed it placed him in an even more vulnerable state. So here he was, vulnerable, and asking for healing, meeting Jesus on the road.
This week in our parish people cried out for healing.
This week in our parish people’s cloaks had been shed – willingly or not.
This week leaders of our parish encountered Jesus on the road.
The families and friends of Richard and Johnny, like so many others who have come to lay to rest a loved one, laid to rest something else too – their cloak of protection from pain, heartache, despair. In these moments, there was no sense of invincibility, but only of being raw to all that life throws at us. And, something more too. Whether they were religious people or not, Christians or not, they came seeking healing. And in this sacred space, they were able to see the Jesus that is present and offering grace, even if they do not recognize it in that way. Jesus is present because we are present – the people of this church. You all may not have been here physically, but you are always present here, because without you, all of you, this does not exist.
And your vestry encountered Jesus on the road at their retreat in their willingness to be vulnerable with one another, in their open and listening hearts discerning where the Spirit is guiding them as spiritual leaders, and in the stories they shared of themselves and their connection to this parish. Essentially they were asking Jesus the question Jesus was asking James & John last week, and our buddy Bart today “What do you want me to do for you?”
“What do you want me to do for you?”
It is a question we all need to be asking.
“What do you want me to do for you?”
Or to put it another way – “heal me of my lack of sight, Jesus.”
So many of us are unable to see – to see Jesus in ourselves, in each other, and in the world. To see the signs of God’s grace all around us. To see those who live in darkness.
But if we were to shed our cloaks, and spring up as Bart did, we will see. And with that sight, we can heal a broken and despairing world.
Now, it may be hard to imagine a cloak as essential in this day and age, but what about a cloak we would all want. Remember the Invisibility Cloak in Harry Potter? It was passed down to this young wizard, and when he pulled it around himself, he became invisible! How many of us would like one of those from time to time, right?
Well, it might not be something for fantasy stories anymore, as “researchers demonstrated that they are now able to cloak three-dimensional objects using artificially engineered materials that redirect light around an object. These materials deflect light waves around a body, like water flowing around a smooth rock in a stream. [Now for all us Star Trek fans, this would be called a Cloaking Device – totally awesome! The key [to it working] is to keep the light from bouncing back, because if the light is reflected then the object can be seen. The bottom line is that if you want to be invisible, you have to find a way to bend light around yourself. If light is reflected, then you’re going to be seen.”[1]
The thing about a cloak, whether it is one that makes you invisible, or one that keeps you warm, is that it can get mighty cozy all wrapped up in it. You can get kind of comfy in the way it protects you, and in the case of the Harry Potter kind, conceals you. You could just get to where you throw it over yourself and snuggle down for a nice long nap. And sometimes, that’s a good thing. Sometimes we need the respite. But unfortunately, this napping that many all around the world seem to be taking, appears to be a life long one.
“Anthony de Mello […] was a Jesuit priest from India. Coming from Asia, he had more than a passing acquaintance with Eastern religions. De Mello often brought insights from those traditions into his writings on Christian spirituality. Chief among them is the idea of awareness — that if we can just manage to wake up and become truly aware of the world around us and the presence of God within it, we can then live wisely and faithfully. About spiritual awakening, de Mello has written: “Spirituality means waking up. Most people, even though they don’t know it, are asleep. They’re born asleep, they live asleep, they marry in their sleep, they breed children in their sleep, they die in their sleep without ever waking up. “Waking up is unpleasant, you know. You are nice and comfortable in bed. It is irritating to be woken up.””[2]
I’ll just share a short story about Johnny, the young man who was killed. His father told me that he “brought Johnny to Christ Church a number of times when he was a child. During a Christmas Eve service, he was very well behaved until the middle of the last hymn, when he called out, “No more, no more.”” Johnny, I believe, has given us a good mantra – no more! No more hiding in cloaks – no more sleeping while others are hurting – no more deflecting of light. No more. It is time to wake up.
Folks, we need to shed the cloaks we cling to in our lives – the ones that keep us comfortable, that hide us from the world. Because we were never meant for that. We were meant to reflect light, not deflect it. The light we are meant to shine to the world is the light of Christ. In shedding whatever cloaks we have been clinging too, we will be healed to see.
And this sight will not be the same as before. It will be like looking through a prism or a kaleidoscope – suddenly everything will look different – will come alive in new and surprising ways. And in that way, in our own spiritual awakening, we will encounter Jesus – and others will encounter Jesus in us. We will see God’s grace in abundance around us, and we will share that grace with others.
Today, as part of our Stewardship season, you will be given kaleidoscopes, blessed at the altar. Take them home to look through from time to time as a way of reminding you that the way in which you support this parish reflects in the way in which this sacred space enables so many who are vulnerable to seek healing. Look through it from time to time to consider the way in which light – the light of Christ – can make the world a place of wondrous possibility – if we are willing to spring up to meet God in the work God is already doing here and beyond the walls of this church.
Our Presiding Bishop, the Most Rev. Katherine Jefferts Schori, in a statement released on Friday as she nears the end of her nine year term – a term that broke barriers just in the very fact of her election to this office, and brought healing during a time of division and uncertainty in our church, said this “I am deeply grateful for what God has been up to in the midst of our journey together, and I look forward to seeing how this church of the middle way will continue to lead and partner as we travel the road home, into God’s fullest dream of abundant life for all. I thank the people of this Church and beyond for your prayers over the last nine years – especially in recognition that we do this work together, never alone.”
“What God has been up to in the midst of our journey together.”
This week was filled with holy times made possible by this parish, out of this sacred space, by God’s grace. And it will always be so, if we are willing to shed our cloaks, to spring up, to see Jesus, and then, as Bart did after being healed, to follow him in his work. The work God is already doing. The work we are called to join in doing together.
It all starts with a question – the one Jesus asked of James, John and Bartimaeus – the one we need to ask of God: “What do you want me to do for you?”
In listening to the answer, we will see.
We will see not only the world as it is, but as it could be.
We will see the ones calling out from the margins for healing.
We will see God at work in the world, and join God there.
And in responding to the answer, light will be reflected off of us – the light of Christ – and others will see too.
They will see the signs of God’s grace all around them.
They will see hope and spring toward it.
They will see a need to ask the question themselves and respond.
And so it will go – holy times and holy healing – outward from this place in a never ending cycle.
It all starts here, now, with you.
Amen.
For the audio of the sermon from the 10:30am service, click here:
[1] Homileticsonline.com
[2] homileticsonline.com
The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
October 25, 2015
Pentecost 22 – Year B – Track 1
1st Reading – Job 42:1-6, 10-17
Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22)
2nd Reading – Hebrews 7:23-28
Gospel – Mark 10:46-52
