7/19/15
This past Tuesday was the regular meeting, in Hartford, of what’s called the Chapter. This is the governing body of Christ Church Cathedral, our cathedral, of the Episcopal Church in Connecticut. The Chapter meets every three months, to oversee and advise about what goes on there. It’s composed of about 30 people: the Bishop, members of the congregation of Christ Church, their Vicar, the Dean of the Cathedral, and a number of priests from around the diocese who are elected at our convention (I am one of those). Meetings usually last a little over two hours (the meeting in March of 2014 took just about one hour because it was the same night as the NCAA Women’s championship basketball game, and UConn was playing.
This meeting, however, took about three hours, because the main order of business was consideration of the report of the Cathedral Discernment Task Force, of which you have heard me speak now and then. This was the first chance that the representatives of that congregation had to hear what we will present to the diocesan convention in November, which obviously is critical to their future. So you can imagine that, over the past year, there’s been a lot of anxiety in that congregation, and a certain defensiveness: there’s a natural tendency to see that whole effort as a judgment on their performance as “cathedral”, or as a shadow-play, just to get rid of the cathedral, because it’s a thing of the past.
Neither was the case – it’s all part of the re-examination of the Episcopal Church (an effort which is absolutely necessary, and in which our Bishop is one of the leaders) - and I can just quickly tell you now (it’s not a secret report) that the overwhelming majority of people around the diocese that we talked to want a cathedral, for a variety of very good reasons. The report calls for a number of adjustments; and we’ll be talking about all this here at St. John’s in the future: about the life of the cathedral and how we participate in that life, as do all Episcopal churches. It’s not just an administrative concern. It involves many aspects of our lives as the body of Christ: worship, mission, our place in the world that exists outside the church.
Just as each member of our congregation has particular spiritual gifts, but together we are one body in the Spirit: so individual parishes have particular spiritual gifts, but together we are one body. I can tell you how invigorating, how inspiring it has been, for me to share ideas, and worship, with our Episcopalian sisters and brothers from around the diocese. It’s a great gift of the Spirit: the same kind of gift as when we come together here, from our different lives. The cathedral is the place where we choose to experience our oneness in Christ. It’s not a matter of having a big fancy building. It’s about the life of the Spirit.
In this connection, it’s an instance of the grace of God that two of today’s readings have literally to do with the idea of “house”, and what that means for us people of faith: a house of God; a house for God.
As we’ve been hearing for the past few weeks, today’s Old Testament passage (from 2 Samuel) is about David. We’ve heard stories about the beginning of his kingship; and today we heard that his kingdom has finally achieved stability: David is now “settled in his house,” his enemies are subdued (for the moment, at least), and his place as leader is secure.
And David’s first thought, now that he has gotten to this point, is to honor God, the God who chose him and by whose grace his kingship is now secure: David knows this. So he says to his prophet Nathan, Here I’m living in a house of cedar – fine quality wood, smells nice – and the ark of God is in a tent. The ark was a wooden chest that contained the Ten Commandments: it was the most holy object of the nation of Israel, the most exalted physical representation of God’s presence among God’s people) – the ark of God is in a tent. David just puts that situation out there, for Nathan’s consideration: I’ve got a nice big house, the ark has a tent, what are we going to do about this? It’s a good, humble impulse.
Nathan is David’s prophet. Recent American presidents have occasionally had a clergyman around for window dressing at public ceremonies; but Nathan was part of David’s inmost circle, and David comes to him first on this question. And Nathan sees that David is on a roll as far as God is concerned: God’s word is coming through loud and clear to David; so Nathan tells him, You do whatever you have in mind about this, for it’s clear to me that the Lord is speaking to you these days.
But that same night, “the word of the Lord came to Nathan” (probably because of what he’d just said to David.) And that word is, essentially, Hold on a minute. Go and tell my servant David – do this now, the Lord says – go and tell my servant David, the one whom I know wants to do my will – tell him, Are you the one to build me a house to live in? That’s to say: I have been your God, and you have been my people, for many generations (it’s not just you, David); and I have never asked for a house. I don’t need one. I’ve lived in a tent. I’m there now.
And notice the way God puts it: God “moves about”. “I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle”; and “Whenever I have moved about among all the tribal leaders of Israel” God moves about. This is God’s nature: God is active. God creates, God is always creating. We see this throughout the Bible: in the second verse of the book of Genesis: “God moved upon the face of the waters.” In the letter to the Hebrews: “The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword.”
But God says, I will make you a house. I understand, better than you do, what you’re talking about. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, and he shall build a house for my name. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me.
Now, in the history of Christian biblical interpretation, this has always been understood as a clear prophecy of Jesus Christ. But let’s be careful here: it’s dangerously misleading to think of prophecy as secret code, messages that are only understood by a select few. What we should behold here is the understanding that God’s dwelling-place is not to be confined to what we think of as a house. It is the Spirit of God, which is always moving about, which happens to be alive in a particular place.
This is confirmed, gloriously, in today’s reading from the letter to the Ephesians. It’s the same metaphor, from a different angle: the letter tells us we are members of the “household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets” – the Spirit of God moving among them – “with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.” All that wonderful movement of the Spirit: this is what constitutes the house of God!
Yesterday there was a wedding here at St. John’s, the first I have performed in this church. The married couple are not members of our parish: they live in Westchester County. They were both raised in the church, but are not currently members of a congregation; however, they’re in their late twenties, their lives are settling down, and they feel drawn back to the church. They’d been looking for a church in which to be married, and the young woman has a friend in New Milford who suggested St. John’s. So she came to a service here about six months ago, she got hold of me afterwards and we talked, she came a second time with him, and then they asked if they could be married here.
They loved the building, as we do – its beauty, the sense of awe that surrounds us, the sense of a world that is beyond the physical. But more importantly: they got from the service – from you – a sense of the life of the Spirit here. I’m not saying this to pat ourselves on the back – to God be all the praise – but what they felt is real, and what makes this a house of God; and, God willing, that Spirit, which is moving about, will draw them ever closer.
That Spirit moves within each of us, it moves among us together here, it moves among all God’s people; it moves over the face of the whole earth. But it is the same Spirit. As uniquely as God has created us all, let us rejoice in our unity in the household of God.
This past Tuesday was the regular meeting, in Hartford, of what’s called the Chapter. This is the governing body of Christ Church Cathedral, our cathedral, of the Episcopal Church in Connecticut. The Chapter meets every three months, to oversee and advise about what goes on there. It’s composed of about 30 people: the Bishop, members of the congregation of Christ Church, their Vicar, the Dean of the Cathedral, and a number of priests from around the diocese who are elected at our convention (I am one of those). Meetings usually last a little over two hours (the meeting in March of 2014 took just about one hour because it was the same night as the NCAA Women’s championship basketball game, and UConn was playing.
This meeting, however, took about three hours, because the main order of business was consideration of the report of the Cathedral Discernment Task Force, of which you have heard me speak now and then. This was the first chance that the representatives of that congregation had to hear what we will present to the diocesan convention in November, which obviously is critical to their future. So you can imagine that, over the past year, there’s been a lot of anxiety in that congregation, and a certain defensiveness: there’s a natural tendency to see that whole effort as a judgment on their performance as “cathedral”, or as a shadow-play, just to get rid of the cathedral, because it’s a thing of the past.
Neither was the case – it’s all part of the re-examination of the Episcopal Church (an effort which is absolutely necessary, and in which our Bishop is one of the leaders) - and I can just quickly tell you now (it’s not a secret report) that the overwhelming majority of people around the diocese that we talked to want a cathedral, for a variety of very good reasons. The report calls for a number of adjustments; and we’ll be talking about all this here at St. John’s in the future: about the life of the cathedral and how we participate in that life, as do all Episcopal churches. It’s not just an administrative concern. It involves many aspects of our lives as the body of Christ: worship, mission, our place in the world that exists outside the church.
Just as each member of our congregation has particular spiritual gifts, but together we are one body in the Spirit: so individual parishes have particular spiritual gifts, but together we are one body. I can tell you how invigorating, how inspiring it has been, for me to share ideas, and worship, with our Episcopalian sisters and brothers from around the diocese. It’s a great gift of the Spirit: the same kind of gift as when we come together here, from our different lives. The cathedral is the place where we choose to experience our oneness in Christ. It’s not a matter of having a big fancy building. It’s about the life of the Spirit.
In this connection, it’s an instance of the grace of God that two of today’s readings have literally to do with the idea of “house”, and what that means for us people of faith: a house of God; a house for God.
As we’ve been hearing for the past few weeks, today’s Old Testament passage (from 2 Samuel) is about David. We’ve heard stories about the beginning of his kingship; and today we heard that his kingdom has finally achieved stability: David is now “settled in his house,” his enemies are subdued (for the moment, at least), and his place as leader is secure.
And David’s first thought, now that he has gotten to this point, is to honor God, the God who chose him and by whose grace his kingship is now secure: David knows this. So he says to his prophet Nathan, Here I’m living in a house of cedar – fine quality wood, smells nice – and the ark of God is in a tent. The ark was a wooden chest that contained the Ten Commandments: it was the most holy object of the nation of Israel, the most exalted physical representation of God’s presence among God’s people) – the ark of God is in a tent. David just puts that situation out there, for Nathan’s consideration: I’ve got a nice big house, the ark has a tent, what are we going to do about this? It’s a good, humble impulse.
Nathan is David’s prophet. Recent American presidents have occasionally had a clergyman around for window dressing at public ceremonies; but Nathan was part of David’s inmost circle, and David comes to him first on this question. And Nathan sees that David is on a roll as far as God is concerned: God’s word is coming through loud and clear to David; so Nathan tells him, You do whatever you have in mind about this, for it’s clear to me that the Lord is speaking to you these days.
But that same night, “the word of the Lord came to Nathan” (probably because of what he’d just said to David.) And that word is, essentially, Hold on a minute. Go and tell my servant David – do this now, the Lord says – go and tell my servant David, the one whom I know wants to do my will – tell him, Are you the one to build me a house to live in? That’s to say: I have been your God, and you have been my people, for many generations (it’s not just you, David); and I have never asked for a house. I don’t need one. I’ve lived in a tent. I’m there now.
And notice the way God puts it: God “moves about”. “I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle”; and “Whenever I have moved about among all the tribal leaders of Israel” God moves about. This is God’s nature: God is active. God creates, God is always creating. We see this throughout the Bible: in the second verse of the book of Genesis: “God moved upon the face of the waters.” In the letter to the Hebrews: “The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword.”
But God says, I will make you a house. I understand, better than you do, what you’re talking about. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, and he shall build a house for my name. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me.
Now, in the history of Christian biblical interpretation, this has always been understood as a clear prophecy of Jesus Christ. But let’s be careful here: it’s dangerously misleading to think of prophecy as secret code, messages that are only understood by a select few. What we should behold here is the understanding that God’s dwelling-place is not to be confined to what we think of as a house. It is the Spirit of God, which is always moving about, which happens to be alive in a particular place.
This is confirmed, gloriously, in today’s reading from the letter to the Ephesians. It’s the same metaphor, from a different angle: the letter tells us we are members of the “household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets” – the Spirit of God moving among them – “with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.” All that wonderful movement of the Spirit: this is what constitutes the house of God!
Yesterday there was a wedding here at St. John’s, the first I have performed in this church. The married couple are not members of our parish: they live in Westchester County. They were both raised in the church, but are not currently members of a congregation; however, they’re in their late twenties, their lives are settling down, and they feel drawn back to the church. They’d been looking for a church in which to be married, and the young woman has a friend in New Milford who suggested St. John’s. So she came to a service here about six months ago, she got hold of me afterwards and we talked, she came a second time with him, and then they asked if they could be married here.
They loved the building, as we do – its beauty, the sense of awe that surrounds us, the sense of a world that is beyond the physical. But more importantly: they got from the service – from you – a sense of the life of the Spirit here. I’m not saying this to pat ourselves on the back – to God be all the praise – but what they felt is real, and what makes this a house of God; and, God willing, that Spirit, which is moving about, will draw them ever closer.
That Spirit moves within each of us, it moves among us together here, it moves among all God’s people; it moves over the face of the whole earth. But it is the same Spirit. As uniquely as God has created us all, let us rejoice in our unity in the household of God.
