Reverend Ref +

WHERE AM I?

I hate being sick. The rash is gone, but now I've got this nasty cough, sneezing, sore throat, drainage (just where does all that stuff come from? I thought the head was an closed system), watery eyes, temperature and muscle aches. And I'm still kind of fuzzy as to just where I'm sleeping or what day it is. All this just in time for a visit from Jane and Bruce. Not to mention that it was our turn to host the weekly Lenten breakfast.

So I dragged my sorry butt out of bed at 5:30 yesterday, after not sleeping at all, and we did the community breakfast (had about 55 people there), and I gave my homily. I wasn't totally on my game, but it worked. Since I'm not posting sermons until Palm Sunday, I thought I'd give you my Lenten Breakfast Homily.

LENTEN BREAKFAST HOMILY
MARCH 8

The Episcopal Church, like our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters, has a calendar of saints. Christians have, since ancient times, honored men and women whose lives represent heroic commitment to Christ and who have borne witness to their faith even at the cost of their lives. Such witnesses, by the grace of God, live in every age.

What we celebrate in the lives of the saints is the presence of Christ expressing itself in and through particular lives lived in the midst of specific historical circumstances. In the saints we are not dealing primarily with absolutes of perfection but human lives, in all their diversity, open to the motions of the Holy Spirit. Many a holy life, when carefully examined, will reveal flaws or the bias of a particular moment in history or ecclesial perspective; and attitudes toward those outside the Church, assumptions about gender, and understandings of the world may appear to us to be defective and wrong. These understandings should encourage us, then, to realize that the saints, like us, are first and foremost redeemed sinners.

Some of our more Protestant brothers and sisters may have a hard time with the concept of sainthood. When confronted with the idea of "praying to the saints," a less-informed person may retort that that is a ridiculous piece of superstition and might even suggest that it is a form of idolatry to be shunned. What that person may not understand, however, is that we are not praying TO the saint, but we are either commemorating that saint's life or we are asking for the saint to intercede on our behalf. That second point, asking for a saint to intercede on our behalf, is no different than anyone of you asking me to pray for your grandmother . . . or, in this room, your grandchild.

This is so because the Church is "the communion of the Saints." We are a people made holy through our mutual participation in the mystery of Christ. That communion exists throughout past history, it exists now, and it endures beyond the grave into heaven. God is not a God of the dead, but of the living, and those of us still on our earthly pilgrimage continue to have fellowship with those whose work is done.

Why am I bringing this up? Two reasons, really. First, because I don't think we spend enough time trying to understand each other. It is much easier for us to get together with a bunch of people we like and sit around being right. If we can reiterate why we are right and everyone else is wrong, then we can gain comfort in knowing that we are part of a holy and exclusive club. It's easy to condemn the Romans for being papist traditionalists who don't think for themselves; or to condemn the Episcopalians for being wishy washy; or to laugh at the Protestants for being liturgically inept and historically clueless. But it takes work to try to understand each other and seriously question our own beliefs. These breakfasts are the one time a year when Christians of all persuasions throughout the Ruby Valley are willing to sit down together, share a meal and learn from each other.

Second, because Mary Alice got me thinking last week. She mentioned that Lent was basically a valley in the Christian calendar, and asked what valleys we walk through personally that, while difficult at the time, bring us to a point of new life. She may not have said it exactly like that, but that's what I heard and was thinking about as I left last week's breakfast.

She's right. Lent is a valley. It's a time of trial and testing. It can be a holy experience, but it is rarely any fun. It's a time when we examine our own mortality and how we can make the most of what we have to help spread the Good News of the kingdom of God.

Thinking about that, I took a look at the calendar, and it just so happens that March 7 was the feast day of Perpetua and her Companions. Perpetua was a young widow who, with several companions, was a catechumen (that is, in the process of preparing for baptism). In the 2nd Century, Emperor Septimius Severus decreed that all persons should make a sacrifice to the divinity of the Emperor. As you can imagine, there was no way that a confessing Christian could do this. The group was arrested and thrown into prison.

At a public hearing convened to determine her guilt and offer her the chance to recant, she simply said, "I am a Christian."

On March 7, Perpetua and her Companions were sent to the arena to be mangled by a leopard, a boar, a bear and a savage cow. None of them were killed in this spectacle, and eventually they were all put to death by the sword. The story goes that the soldier assigned to Perpetua was inept and his hand had to be guided to the proper location by Perpetua herself.

This is a great Lenten story because we have an example of a person, a saint, who gave up everything she knew to follow Jesus. She and her companions walked through their own valley facing death with the assurance of eternal life. They were tried and tested and none of them wavered, even though faced with terrible consequences.

What trials are we enduring in this time and in this place? What are we willing to give up for the sake of the Gospel? What evils are we called to face head on? I would submit to you that today's so-called assaults on Christianity - the removal of prayer from schools, the refusal to teach intelligent design in science classes, or the fight over a monument of the Ten Commandments - are nowhere near as serious as leopards, boars and bears, oh my.

Christianity was never meant to be a state religion. Christianity is a personal choice that we make. Our salvation isn't based on how many people "we" convert. It isn't based on whether or not we are able to establish a new American Christian empire. And it certainly isn't based on claims of persecution because we aren't getting our way.

Our salvation is based on our willingness to proclaim Jesus as Lord and Savior, regardless of the consequences. Our salvation is based on following the words of Jesus when he said to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, shelter the homeless and love your enemy - whether that be Sadaam, Osama, or someone in your own congregation.

Lent is a time of repentance and self-examination. As we make our way through this particular valley in the Christian year, I would ask you to examine your life. Are you living a life in accordance with the message of the Gospels? Because in the end, Christianity is not a numbers game, but it is a personal choice to live and make sacrifices for God.