From the Pulpit:

    Ann Brotherton, Assistant Rector

Unity in the Midst of Diversity

Today is the fifth and final Sunday in our discussions for this liturgical year of the sixth chapter of John.  It all began with the miracle of the feeding of five thousand at the ‘holy picnic’ with what one little boy carried in his backpack. That little boy’s backpack, containing five barley loaves and two fishes, was a blessed backpack indeed – filled to the brim with learning for those earliest followers of Jesus and for us.  Today (At the 10:30 AM service), as children (and some adults) in our midst prepare to begin a new school year, we will be blessing backpacks.   And, hopefully, the learning about Jesus as ‘bread of life’ for all of us will continue throughout the year.

Memories of my maternal grandmother, affectionately called Mammy, have been a part of this five week journey and an even larger part of my life history.  Mammy lived her entire life in a small mid-Missouri town, worshiped at the church on the campus of Central Methodist College, and was undisputedly the best cook in the county.  Everything she cooked was excellent, and her baked goods were ‘to die for’.  My mother tells stories of homemade donuts or cookies waiting for her and her classmates after school.  Mammy’s pie crust was flaky and she would never have considered using canned fruit or a pudding mix for the filling.  In a rural society where folks often bartered for services, people actually paid her money to bake her famous ‘Lady Baltimore’ fresh coconut cakes for special events – potlucks, showers, and even to take to a funeral.  When my family came from California to visit in the summer the house was filled with the delectable sights and smells of cakes on the sideboard, bread baking, green beans simmering in the pot, and chicken frying.  Mammy claimed, and she might have been right, that it was her cooking that won the hearts of both my Dad and Tom as husbands for my mother and me.

When I went to live with Mammy and attend college, I learned that her generosity with food extended far beyond family and friends.  It was her gift to everyone – even the homeless or unemployed who frequently came to knock on the back door asking for a plate of food.  It was her way of saying “I love you”, especially to those who were sick or grieving.  Mammy didn’t discriminate in a day and time when segregation was socially accepted.  And it didn’t matter to her whether one needed a cake for a funeral at the Baptist, Christian, Catholic, or even that quaint little Episcopal Church.  All were God’s children and all needed to be fed. 

As her sous chef during the years I lived with her, I wanted most of all to learn how to make bread.  I tried to watch carefully, as I cleaned up the kitchen behind her, but one day finally just had to stop her and make her wait until I gathered up measuring spoons and cups.  As she added a ‘pinch’ of this and a ‘handful’ of that I insisted we measure so I could write down a recipe.  She thought this process quite hilarious.  In the end I did learn to make a passable imitation of her ‘light bread and rolls’.  The recipe has been passed on to our daughters and is now used for bread, rolls, Stromboli, and even pizza dough.  It is a part of the fabric of love that holds our family together, and Mammy’s presence is very near whenever we bake.  Mammy’s bread and the love it carries to all who receive it, then and now, began early in life to help me hear and understand what Jesus is talking about when he says “I am the bread of life”-  about community and the love that unites those of us here today - binds us to one another in this place and in the world.

As we come to the end of this challenging journey through the sixth chapter of John, Jesus has fed the multitudes on real bread, offered himself as the bread of heaven, invited his followers to feast on his body and blood as the gift of eternal life, and endured misunderstanding and complaint.  He has spoken over and over again of his identity and what he offers – the bread of eternal life.  Now at the end of the chapter, we see that some will understand and remain (abide in him); sadly others will misunderstand and go away.  Suddenly the spotlight is no longer on the words and actions of Jesus, but on the response and belief of the followers.  There is a note of sadness as we realize that the great majority of the followers turned away.  Only a few of Jesus’ closest disciples remained – the disciples known to us hereafter in the Gospel of John as “the twelve”.

It was not an easy message then, and it is not any easier today.  Those oriented to life in the world have a hard time understanding just why we would want to emulate our Lord’s manner of living and dying for others.  Ours is a strange calling that is more than skin deep.  It’s a calling that reaches beneath the surface of our lives and into our workplaces, bank accounts, family relationships, eating habits, daily schedules, and all the other ways we choose to live and die for Christ and our neighbors.  It is a way of life discerned by faith – and, make no mistake, faith is God’s gift to us for the receiving, not our own accomplishment.  Perhaps this is a little comfort to us as we look at world-wide declining attendance and church membership.  Let’s take a look at some of the good things that are happening in the church at large today.

It’s no secret that ours is a denomination of diversity – diversity of education, religious background, occupation, income levels, skin color and ethnic origin, languages, sexual orientation, opinions as to how scripture is to be read and understood as well as whether women, gays and lesbians should be set aside for ordination.   The list could go on and on, and I for one love it that way.  I have chosen to be an Episcopalian precisely because of Holy Spirit’s ability to keep us unified in the face of diversity and in the challenges of difficult economic times.  And don’t you hear a similar note of unity in the decision of the twelve to abide with Jesus.  Their decision to walk forward with Christ drew them together as a community of faith.  It really isn’t any particular creed, mission statement, style of worship, or service program that united them as the body of Christ.  It was their professed willingness to follow Jesus Christ that rendered them a community of faith.  What a blessed thing to remember as we agonize over budget priorities, worship attendance, building and grounds maintenance issues like water wells and air conditioners, or any of the many preoccupations of life in the church.  It is our commitment to follow Christ alongside others that gives us unity of life and purpose as the people of God.

Not to be outdone in the realm of summer vacation stories, I have one of my own.  Many of you know that we visited Jody and Tom Harrison in Roanoke, Virginia this summer, and I bring you hearty and happy greetings from them.  While planning the trip, we also discovered that dear long-time friends from Tom Brotherton’s graduate school days had retired in an area near Smith Mountain Lake, less than thirty miles away.  Our conversations revealed that our friends, “Quiet Quakers”, were now worshiping with an amazing community of people who call themselves Trinity Ecumenical Parish.  They have become interested in the emergent church movement and are very active in the life of this church, having helped to organize and direct for the last two year a summer day camp for underprivileged children.  They encouraged us all to come and visit them for a delightful afternoon and evening of walking, talking, boating and eating at a restaurant accessible by boat dock only.  They also encouraged us to plan to worship with them on the following Sunday.  We did, and were we ever amazed!

Trinity Ecumenical Parish began when the Presbyterian Church began searching in the early 80’s for a place to plant a new church.  Their rather detailed history notes locating about 10 “lake  people” gathering in a home weekly for Bible Study.  Yes, they would like to consider becoming a church, but they had no intention of being only a Presbyterian Church.  A few in the group called themselves Presbyterian, and others were Episcopalians and Lutherans.  They were followers of Jesus, loved each other, enjoyed studying scripture together, active in community benevolent activities, and wanted to worship together.  But they had a new vision – an ecumenical church where they could all worship, learn and serve together.  Can you begin to imagine the difficulties of encouraging three separate denominations to work together to form one church?  With lots of prayer, inspiration, insistence and perseverance, by the early 90’s it happened.  Trinity Ecumenical Parish was named and officially registered with three separate internal governing bodies and three separate Bishops of the various denominations in hearty support.  They now have a beautiful building, a very full schedule of activities, a preschool and the summer day camp.  Their staff is from a variety of denominations with the senior pastor currently Presbyterian and the associate Lutheran.  The early service is always Episcopal Morning Prayer with communion and the later service rotates monthly – Episcopalian one month, Presbyterian another and Lutheran yet another.  Communion is served on the first Sunday of each month according to the respective liturgy and custom.   We worshiped and received on the Presbyterian Sunday.  Now that’s unity! 

In our collect this morning we prayed to be (God’s) “Church, gathered together in unity by Holy Spirit” that we may “show forth God’s power among all people”.  Let us work together towards that goal and may it ever be so!   

Amen

02/13/2010