Proper 28, Yr C
The Rev. G. Hendree Harrison, Jr.
Like leaping calves
When I hear about the decline of the Christian church, and when I hear or read woeful tales about the decline and downfall of our Episcopal church I always feel like I am missing something.
A couple of weeks ago, at our diocesan clergy conference, I was told by a fellow priest that eight out of ten Episcopal churches across the country are in some kind of distress.
Last week, I read an article in a church magazine that read like an apocalyptic narrative signaling the end times. The author suggested that we just let the church implode so that we could start over fresh and rebuild the broken church of our forefathers.
Churches all over are supposedly struggling with attendance problems, financial difficulties, divisive theological troubles, and spiritual struggles, but like I said I feel like I am missing something because that is simply not my experience of the church.
I had the privilege of reading Morning Prayer with the Episcopal Church Women Tuesday of last week. We were slow to start, and for once it was not because I was late getting to the chapel. We were slow to start because we had to bring more chairs in to the chapel space to accommodate all of the women who showed up to pray and join in the fellowship of the ECW meeting.
One of the running jokes about our church is that we don’t know the bible and we don’t show up for Sunday school like our Baptist and Methodist brothers and sisters. Here again, I feel like I am missing something, like the slow kid in the room who doesn’t get the joke, because you people come here Sunday after Sunday and crack open the Bible with one another, and talk and ask tough questions that I can’t answer. And you’ve been doing it long enough now that I figure you’re not just trying to be nice to the teacher. I figure you must actually want to seek and search in the Holy Scriptures if you’re showing up week after week.
The church stewardship experts tell us that churches need to rethink and restructure all our stewardship efforts because people are not giving to churches like they used to give. People are not giving their money or their time and energy to the church like they did in the old days.
Again, I’ve got to commit some time to getting up to speed on this stuff because I am clearly missing something.
You all responded with enormous zeal to our Sunday morning servants’ request. Around one hundred spots on various worship service rotations have been filled as a result of our stewardship of time and talent efforts. And as to money matters – right now we are 10,000 dollars ahead of last year in our financial stewardship drive.
So, I guess the sky is falling somewhere, but it does not appear to be falling at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Athens, TN.
When the ushers bring the plates to me at the altar after the offering is taken up, they also bring me a small slip of paper that has written on the number of people present in the pews. They do this so that I will know how many wafers and how much wine to consecrate for communion.
Last week, Steve Burnette gave me the count slip, and he had two numbers on it. The first number was 65, and the second number was 20. Scribbled beside the number 20 was, “that’s how many people are in the nursery!”
If the future of the church is all doom and gloom and decimation, then, somebody needs to find a place for all the kids we are raising up in this little parish to go. The parents of these children must be missing something like me because they don’t seem to know that church nurseries and Sunday school rooms are supposed to be empty, sad places. They’re down there whooping it up, playing and cutting bible crafts out of construction paper.
They say people don’t want to volunteer to serve the church, but today is our annual meeting and we’re going to elect three new
I must be missing something. I am sure the experts are correct. The sky must be falling somewhere. It’s just that the atmosphere does not seem to be caving in around here. If anything, it’s kind of an embarrassment of riches around this place.
I must be honest and tell you that I can see where the naysayer and doomsday prophets get a lot of their attitude and inspiration. They get it from our beloved Bible.
Jesus is not exactly a cheery spirit himself in the gospel this morning. What with all the earthquake, famine and plague talk, and the prophetic piece about dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. And before Jesus ever came on the scene, we had the malcontent Malachi whose short self titled book is the last act of the Old Testament.
The portion of Malachi that we read this morning is a “sky is falling” passage if ever there was one. It reads, “See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the Lord of hosts…..”
The nursery at Malachi’s church must have been empty, and I don’t guess they needed extra chairs for the ECW meeting at his church. At least that might be our impression if we stopped reading Malachi before he’s finished.
See maybe I am not missing something after all. Maybe it’s just that I know the end of the story, and you know the end of the story. What I mean is this: Look at what comes after the burning oven bit. “But for you who revere my name (that’s we Christian believing folk), the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings (that’s the healing love of God). You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall.”
Leaping like calves from the stall! That’s full nurseries, hopping Sunday school classes, and too many ECW ladies for a small space!
Malachi ends his book with a vision of the greatest miracle of the Old Testament. A miracle that makes the parting of the Red Sea, manna from heaven, and the plague of locusts look like child’s play.
Listen to the last two verses. “Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes.” And here’s the miracle foretold – “He will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, so that I will not come and strike the land with a curse.”
What a God we have! He intends to reconcile and reconnect families that are broken apart! I have not yet met a family that does not suffer from some fracture or another, and so, I find this vision of reconciliation as hopeful as anything I can imagine.
My point is we have to read through to the end. We can’t stop in the middle and get bogged down with the doomsday voices. If we do, we will miss the end where God says, “...I will not come and strike the land with a curse.”
I am sure that there are churches that are burning ovens of despair, but I also know for certain that there are churches that are full of folk who are like calves leaping from the stall.
I know that there are churches that stand in the glow of the sun of righteousness and bask in the breeze coming off its healing wings. I know this, and so do you, because we worship in one of those churches with all the healthy jumping calves.
Whether old or young, or middle aged, we are a spirited bunch whose hearts are leaping at being set loose in the Kingdom.
On the day of our annual meeting I am delighted to say that this parish is almost 175 years old and we’re not anywhere near the end of our story. We’ve got a long way to go; a lot of fun to get tangled up in; a lot of work to do; a lot of gospel Grace and love to measure out upon the world.
So, come good friends, like calves freed from the stall let’s leap from this place, rejoicing in our abundance of blessings and spread our joy of life to all the ends of God’s great earth, for our present joy is just the beginning…