In his history of St.
Michael’s, Canon Tildesley wonders about the name of this parish. Why St.
Michael’s? He says (and I take him at his word) that there are no records to
give the reason. And then writes:
Some believe it was named after the parish church of St. Michael the
Archangel in Bristol, England. Others think it was so named because St. Michael
is the patron saint of fishermen.
Both seem plausible and
there’s no way to go back and know for sure. Perhaps someone said at that
initial meeting, “hey we should go with St. Michael’s in Bristol since there is
already a St. Michael’s in Bristol, England. And someone else chimed in and
said, “yeah, and here we are by the water and St. Michael is the patron saint
of fishermen.” All in favor say “aye!” Easiest. Annual. Meeting. Ever! Canon
Tildesley goes on to write:
Whatever the reason for the name, and at this late date it seems
unlikely that we will ever know the exact reason, St. Michael’s in Bristol,
beginning in a small and humble way in the early eighteenth century, has
continued down to the present. Over the centuries it has continued to be a
Christian presence in the town of Bristol, to say nothing of the tremendous
influence it has had from time to time in the history of the Episcopal Church
in the State of Rhode Island and in this country.
And here is what I want
to add to those words: God is not finished with us yet, St. Michael’s.
I’ve only been with you
now for a little over four months. I’ve been warmly welcomed and I’ve witnessed
firsthand your faithfulness and your resilience. Our time together, this
chapter that we share in your long and amazing history, is about the work of
finding your next rector. I’ve been hearing your stories and I’m so grateful
that you’ve opened your lives to me. We’ve had several funerals for longtime
members, and we’ve had several baptisms that call on us to be the Church as we
look to the future. We had a wonderful Christmas celebration and a full house
of members and families and guests and even some folks who’d been away but are
wanting to find their way back.
Good things are happening
here. Today we will commission the folks who will be working on telling the
story of St. Michael’s through a parish profile. Their work will be to create
several documents that will tell potential clergy what you are looking for,
what your hopes and dreams are, as well as your fears and disappointments. To
tell the truth in love, which will give you the best possible opportunity to
find a priest who is called to share this work with you.
Looking ahead: in less
than two weeks we will interpret the Congregational Assessment Tool, the CAT. I
hope everyone will take the time to weigh in on that. It’s very rare in any
congregation to get a snapshot that includes everyone, not just vestry or the
most opinionated extroverted members. The CAT allows every single person to
speak their truth and that is invaluable data right now. Don’t squander that
invitation! It will give us reliable insights into where we are right now, and
you have to know where you are now before you chart a course to where
you are going.
Most of us have been
taught that Christmas lasts twelve days and ends when the wise guys arrive with
their gifts. But some Christian traditions say Christmas goes for forty
days and today is the culmination. We don’t need to solve that great mystery
today. The point is that we have had the opportunity once more to light candles,
as we did on Christmas Eve when we lit our candles and sang silent night. We
have this candle mass, which reminds us once more of our calling to be lights
in our own generation. And I think that goes very well with the business we are
about today at our Annual Meeting.
"And when the time came for their
purification according to the law of Moses, they brought Jesus up to Jerusalem
to present him to the Lord." (Luke 2:22) Luke is the only one who tells us
of the holy family’s pilgrimages to the Temple in Jerusalem: first when Jesus
is eight-days old for his bris, and then again at forty-days old for the
purification of his mother, Mary. And finally when Jesus is a teen-ager and
gets separated from the family. Luke makes it clear that this family were
devout, practicing Jews.
We sometimes call this
day the presentation of Jesus in the temple, but more accurately it’s the purification
of Mary. My Jewish Study Bible insists that first-century Jews didn't think
of a new mother as "dirty" but as ritually impure and those are not
synonyms! The discharge of blood does not make one unclean because blood was
seen as "bad;" it was not. Blood is good and essential to life; it
represents the source and flow of life itself. But in the priestly view of the
world, everything has its place and the messiness of birth required ritual
cleansing and sacrifice in order to welcome a new mother back into the
community. Until that time she is considered “unclean.”
Now I don't pretend to grasp that completely or
even agree completely with what I do grasp. I’m uncomfortable with a theology
that labels people as clean or unclean. But I do try to seek understanding. And
how I have come to understand the theology of the priestly writer is the
insistence that God is wholly “other” – God is mysterium tremendum.
We are not. We humans are not bad, but we are dust, creatures of the earth. We
are born and we die. In between, to stand in the presence of God is to become more
fully aware of God’s holiness and our humanity. So I think that’s the
historical context for what’s going on in today’s Gospel reading. After this,
this holy family will make their way back home, where Jesus will "grow in
wisdom and grace.”
But regardless of that
theology which undergirds this day, here is what I do get and love: Jesus is
the light of the world, light that has shined in the darkness and the darkness
has not overcome it. But the meaning of the Incarnation is that we are invited
to share that same light with the world, these little lights of ours. The world
needs for us to do that, and to be the Church in this time and place.
I love you all – truly.
When people ask me if I miss diocesan ministry I tell them I’ve been there and
done that for almost a dozen years, but now I am so very grateful that you have
given me the opportunity to return to my first love: parish ministry. At first
that was a generic desire but now it’s about real people. It’s about Loretta
and Alexander and Steve and Betty. It’s about Allison and Mary Ann and Geoff
and Deb, and a faithful vestry. It's about Candace and Lilliana. It’s about a growing community on Thursday
mornings at 8 am, a service I love for its intimacy. It’s about all of the
outreach this parish does to show the love of Jesus to our neighbors. It’s
about this choir and this altar guild and those who serve on our committees and
show up for Bible Studies and take time for retreats and then still make it
back for Annual Meeting.
I love you all enough to
want us to keep our eyes on the prize. A year from now I am hoping to retire.
It doesn’t mean I’ll stop being a priest. But it will mean that I’ll start
drawing a pension and I will be able to say yes to smaller and different invitations
to serve, closer to Worcester. It means
I will focus on my baptismal ministries as spouse to Hathy and dad to Graham
and James and father-in-law to Cara and Lindsay and as grandfather to Julian
David. I am not a candidate to be your next rector; not because I don’t
love you but because I do love you and because I want to leave you in good
hands with the next rector. Quite frankly, I’m not willing to work quite this
hard for the next 5-10 years to do what is needed here.
In the meantime though,
we have work to do: to run the race with endurance and faithfulness and stay
focused, so that together we will get to a place where you will make a wise and
discerning call of a priest who can give you her all. Or his all. I feel
energized and hopeful about the future and I hope you do, too.
On my first day here, on
the Feast of St. Michael and All Angels, I quoted from Thomas Merton:
You do
not need to know precisely what is happening or exactly where it is all going.
What you need is to recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by this
present moment and then embrace them with courage, faith, and hope.
That’s what I still hope for you as we
look to the future. Let’s recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by
this present moment, and then let’s embrace those with courage, faith, and
hope. God will be with us.
We are called to be the Church from
generation to generation. The world desperately needs for us to the Church, right
now, to be lights in our generation and to let others see that we are a people
who recognize the possibilities and challenges that are before us in this
present moment and that we are embracing them with courage, faith, and hope.
I promised you more Bruce Springsteen
when I arrived here than I’ve delivered on so far. That will change in 2025,
starting today. When life is hard, dream of light. When you feel wearied by the
chances and changes of this life, dream of light. When you feel threatened by
despair for our planet and our nation, and the neighborhood, dream of light.
When you are grieving, dream of light. When you aren’t sure what to do, dream
of light.
And then come on up for the rising.
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