Sermon

St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church

September 23, 2002

Charles James Cook

            Reynolds Price, the distinguished novelist and essayist, tells of an event in his own life that occurred some forty years ago. As a young writer, full of promise, he had been invited to spend some time in the city of Rome. On this particular occasion, he found himself sitting in the great Roman Coliseum, taking in the sun on an unusually warm afternoon in late December. The great area seemed almost empty and quiet, lacking the normal flow of tourists and merchants who would normally occupy the place. It might be said that he had the Coliseum to himself.

            After an hour or so of daydreaming and reflection, Price decided to make his way back to his residence in order to prepare for dinner. He began to walk across the grounds, feeling the weight of history under his own feet, when suddenly he noticed two people, in the distance, blocking his intended path. As he moved closer to them, he saw a young woman, twenty-something, in a tan dress, and her child - a boy "with filthy knees and a coat so tattered it hung in comical strips". They were beggars, he thought, and yet their hands did not reach out for him in the usual manner. Nevertheless, Reynolds Price prepared for the oncoming encounter by reaching for a few coins in his coat pocket. The young woman watched that gesture and shook her head - No! Then she gently pushed the boy forward.

            Reynolds Price remembers the next moment in this way:

            "He [the boy] came to me, solemn but sure; and when he stopped two yards away, he held his hand out clenched as if he offered a game.

            I asked what he had.

            He thought a moment, opened his fist and brought it [forward] - a dark disk, half dollar size, that was meant to look old. [Ah], they’re selling souvenirs, likely fakes, I smiled. ‘No thanks,’ holding both my hands out empty. But the boy reached up and laid the coin in my right palm."

            Reynolds Price had once been a coin collector and he suddenly realized that what he had just been given was real and authentic. It bore the inscription of one of the saner Caesar’s - perhaps, at that time, worth more than twenty dollars. He tried to give the coin back because he still didn’t need to buy it. But the boy wasn’t selling and he turned around to rejoin his mother.

            "[Then] his mother’s voice gave the first real news of the day. She stooped to the ground and scratched in the dirt to show where they’d just found the coin; then she launched a smile of amazing light and said what amounted to ‘You, for you’.

            Reynolds Price concludes this little story by stating, "I have [that coin] still; a most useful and cherished gift."

            When initially asked by National Public Radio to write a short commentary, to be read on the air, about the significance of giving and receiving, Reynolds Price chose to share this particular story. It is the story about a gift given without the expectation of payment in return. It is also a story about a gift received with both an element of surprise, not a little astonishment, and finally accepted with graceful humility. I chose the story for this particular occasion, because it can help us better understand the pastoral relationship between priest and people as a gift.

            The author of the Letter to the Ephesians writes that "each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift". The writer goes on to list some of the outward and visible manifestations of this gift, but the important principle here is that whatever skills and abilities we bring to the practice of ministry, they are to be seen as gifts from God, given through Christ, who is the ultimate gift to the church and to the world. There is a sacramental quality to all ministry, because its essential goal and purpose is to strengthen the Body of Christ.

            Unfortunately, we live in a culture that often does not support this understanding of ministry as gift. In this world, we know that everything must be negotiated; for the most part, every gesture must be analyzed; every offering has its price. We are valued, not so much for who we are, but rather what we can produce - what Walter Brueggemann refers to as a theology of commodification. In such a world we have contracts rather than covenants; success is often measured only in quantitative terms rather than in reference to quality of life. This is to say that, given the influence of contemporary culture, to understand the ministerial relationship between priest and people as sacramental gift, will be to pursue something that is radically different; certainly a bold contrast, perhaps even counter-culture at its core. And yet, this is the model that the church as been given from the very beginning.

            But our contemporary culture is not the only obstacle to embracing the concept of ministry as gift. There are fundamental personal issues inherent in the process of both giving and receiving of gifts. Paul Tournier, the Swiss psychiatrist, reminds us in his remarkable book, The Meaning of Gifts, that it can be as difficult to receive a gift as it is to give one. When we are the giver, there is a real sense in which we control the moment; we are in command of the exchange. However, when we receive a gift from another person, we become more vulnerable and are not in charge. Thus, according to Paul Tournier, in deepening our relationships with one another, we need to learn how to give and receive with a mutual expression of generosity, grace, and hospitality - rather than focus on issues of power and control.

            In the particular relationship that we have come to acknowledge and celebrate this evening, between an ordained priest, Merrill Wade, and a community of faith known as the people of St. Matthew’s, there can be little doubt that there are many gifts to be given and received - some of which have already been evident - even in the earliest stages of this life together. Some of the gifts will be apparent, in symbolic fashion, as we continue this liturgy. Expectations will be voiced; promises will be made. Underneath that litany of forging what is to be a hopeful and fulfilling covenant, I offer the following three gifts which can be shared by both parties - priest and congregation - and that will help to sustain them [borrowing from another ancient text] from this day forward, "for better for worse, for richer for poorer, and in sickness and in health."

            First, give each other the gift of time. What is ultimately to be created here will not occur instantly, but over time. If the relationship between priest and people is to be rooted with some depth in order that it will take hold and flourish, time will be needed. In a culture that seeks instant gratification and results, this will not be easy, but it is essential. Our theology of creation, beginning with Genesis, asserts that the creative process continues; God’s work is not finished. From a Christian perspective, we might say that the Kingdom of God is still breaking in and through the church and the world. While some programs and projects will indeed demand urgency and immediate attention, remember the mission to which we are called demands a longer view. Time also builds trust and that will allow you to both affirm and forgive each other with not a little frequency.

            Second, begin to see openness to change as a gift. Both priest and congregation bring rich histories, formed and rooted in experience. Value those histories and traditions, build upon them, and then emerge from them into the unknown. We are informed by and prepared for the future by our past, but we are not meant to be held captive or in bondage. The arts of listening and honest confrontation can be helpful instruments in the change process. After all, in your mutual relationship with each other, when you look back five years from now, do you really want to say that this community is just the same? In some ways, yes; in many ways, no.

            Third, offer the gift of taking risks...personally and as a community. In what I know about this parish and Merrill Wade, I’m not worried about your risking new ventures, programs, or projects. Rather, I’m talking about something closer to home - having the courage to risk taking responsibility for the life and mission of this church, and then holding each other accountable - recognizing that success and failure have a place in this portion of God’s kingdom. Fear is what normally keeps us from taking responsibility and acknowledging accountability, but there is a safety net; forgiveness is never in short supply.

            Time, Change, and Risk. Three gifts, all shared and received between priest and people. Will they, if enacted, produce the perfect community? I doubt it, but regardless of time and circumstance, these gifts will support the relationship, come what may. Kathleen Norris puts it well when she says:

            "‘The church is still a sinful institution,’ a Benedictine monk wrote to me when I was struggling over whether or not to join a church. ‘How could it be otherwise’, he asked, and I was startled into a recognition of simple truth. The church is like the Incarnation itself, a shaky proposition. It is a human institution, full of ordinary people, sinners like me, who say and do cruel, stupid things. But it is also a divinely inspired institution, full of good purpose, which partakes of a unity far greater than the sum of its parts. That is why it is called the body of Christ.

            And that is why, when the battles rage, people hold on. They find a sufficient unity, and a rubbed raw but sufficient love, and even the presence of God."

            So ultimately, the church itself is a gift.

            Given by the source of every gift; the gift of life.

            In your relationship, Merrill Wade and St. Matthew’s, may you always be a gift to one another.

Amen.

A sermon preached at the installation of the Reverend Merrill Wade as Rector of St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church, Austin, Texas.

Resources:

The Holy Bible. The Epistle to the Ephesians. Chapter 4. NRSV.

Tournier, Paul. The Meaning of Gifts.

Price, Reynolds. Feasting the Heart.

The Book of Common Prayer. (The Church Hymnal Corporation & Seabury Press). 1979.