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This past week, three of us from All Saints’, along with lay and ordained leaders from more than one hundred other churches, met in New Orleans at the annual conference of the Consortium of Endowed Episcopal Parishes. The Consortium was founded more than twenty years ago to help congregations like ours. As a church with an endowment, we are blessed to be stewards of special gifts, given faithfully by those who have departed this life. Of course, you and I can also give, each in our own way, gifts for which we are remembered. That’s why, two weeks ago, Charles Cloughen visited All Saints’ and helped us begin to create a new ministry – a legacy ministry, open to any member of this parish who wants to leave a legacy for those who come after us. During the long life of this parish, God has given us many gifts through the generosity of our members. Some gifts, like the recent one from Paul Wisner, significantly change the life and ministry we share, in ways we cannot begin to imagine. For me, there’s a certain ironic mystery, even a bit of humor in the timing of our most recent bequest. Why, in a time of so much loss around the world, have we at All Saints’ received such gain? My theological mind wants to know: where is God in the timing of this great gift? Consortium colleagues confirmed this week that most of their congregations are now being forced to do what needs to be done in nearly every workplace across the country. Layoffs, furloughs, pay cuts, benefit reductions – these are now part of the 2009 economic landscape, causing pain and suffering, directly and indirectly, for most everyone. Endowments have also suffered greatly in the past six months. While bequests and other gifts have surely eased All Saints’ financial burden, they do not solve it, whether in this current recession or in other tough times we will inevitably face. We must not be lulled into a false sense of security, thinking someone else has paid or will pay our way. On the contrary, I believe that each of us who claims All Saints’ as our spiritual home, is called by God to share in responsibility for and support of the ministry of Jesus Christ through this parish church. After prayer and discernment, I increased my 2009 pledge from last year’s tithe. I also declined to receive a raise, working instead with our vestry and other committees to insure that members of our staff, who work hard on your behalf, would receive much-needed, albeit modest salary increases. And I am asking my attorney to make some changes, so that I can give thanks to God for my blessings once more, by remembering All Saints’ in my will. There is, perhaps, no group of people more grateful for the blessings and gifts of God than the people of the city of New Orleans. While we were there, we experienced real hospitality, a genuine, warm welcome everywhere we went. Four and a half years after Katrina, there is still so much to do there. So much rebuilding of homes and lives awaits. Yet we can celebrate, knowing much has been done in New Orleans and in her sister cities along the Gulf Coast, on into Mississippi. The Mission Statement of the Diocese of Louisiana puts it this way: “The Diocese of Louisiana is, by grace, a vital community, reborn in the wake of tragedy, forging a new and prophetic environment of healing, trust and empowerment as servants of Jesus Christ.” As servants of Christ, many of you have shared your gifts of time, talent and treasure when you have journeyed to Biloxi and beyond, making a difference in the lives of the people in congregations like the Church of the Redeemer. We are particularly grateful for Eric Percy, who will visit there for the fifth time this week. Next month, we have an opportunity right here in Frederick County to make the same kind of difference, as Rebuilding Together (formerly known as Christmas in April) comes to life. It’s a nationwide program designed to get communities and volunteers, during the last weekend in April, to help improve and repair homes of those who are unable to maintain their property. If you are interested in Rebuilding Together, Joey Romagnoli is the one to contact. This week, in the early morning hours, I sat in my hotel room, looking out my window on that city still trying to recover. As I prayed, I thought of you back here in Frederick and all you do to rebuild and restore the lives of others. Suddenly, I thought of another recovery. Just four months after Katrina, there was an undersea Indian Ocean earthquake. It was the second largest ever recorded, triggering a tsunami off the west coast of Indonesia. More than 225,000 people died, in eleven countries, inundating coastal communities with waves up to 100 feet. It became one of the deadliest “natural” disasters of all time. And it prompted an unprecedented, worldwide response: more than $7 billion was raised for relief and recovery. In Memphis, people acted spontaneously. Within a week folks from dozens of faith communities were standing on city street corners near our places of worship, holding containers into which children dropped coins and adults placed bills and checks. Food was cooked, musicians played and television cameras rolled. After several days of counting, we discovered to our delight that we had raised more than $100,000. For me, never had the expression “I am but one, but I amone” had more meaning. Together, we had done what no one could do alone. Yet, as we tried to help relieve a faraway part of the world, it was not just all that money we raised that made a difference. It was something much closer to home. It was the community we had re-built in Memphis, with each other, that day. It was the fellow travelers we discovered, new companions on our shared journey of compassion. You see, that was the day Mehr Feldman came to our church. Rabbi Mehr arrived for a joint service of worship after raising funds in their synagogue’s neighborhood. That evening Mehr taught our youth group how to chant in Hebrew during prayers with his youth group and ours. At the next tsunami relief fundraiser, Mehr and I stood shoulder to shoulder with another new friend, Nabil Bayakly, a local imam who arrived with members of his mosque. A faded photo of the three of us is still on my refrigerator. Nabil, Mehr and Tom. Today’s story about Abraham and Sarah being the ancestors of a multitude of nations reminds me that all three Abrahamic faiths – Islam, Judaism and Christianity – have at least one thing in common: compassion. Jews, Muslims and Christians all share a core belief in compassion. We all believe that God calls us to suffer with others, to stand with those in great need – “the least of these,” as Jesus puts it. All the children of Abraham and Sarah, all the children of the world...together we can do the right thing. Together we can make a difference. Perhaps that is why our translation of Jesus’ teaching in the gospel is in the plural. Growing up I heard the words this way: “If anyone wants to become my disciple, let him deny himself…” (Mark 8:34, Revised Standard Version). About the same time that the Consortium was created, a new translation came out and those words of Jesus became plural: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (NEW Revised Standard Version). As disciples of Jesus, each of us has his or her own cross to bear. Perhaps your cross looks more financial or physical. Perhaps it’s more emotional or spiritual. It is not by accident, I think, that my hotel window looking out on New Orleans was literally shaped by metal beams, framing a cross. Everyone who seeks to follow Jesus, the One who leads us into a particular life of compassion we call Christian – each of us carries her or his own cross. Yet together, we seek to follow Jesus. Together, we are called to deny ourselves in a way that reminds us of his self-denial. Together, we are called to take up our own cross and make a collective difference in the lives of others. Together, as the church, we are called to get converted, to actually be and become the body of Christ, in this 21 st century world of tsunamis and hurricanes. On Thursday our Consortium conference began with a tour of those parts of New Orleans still being rebuilt. Four busloads of us drove through the city, stopping at a church that was flooded in Katrina and is now a conduit through which hundreds of children, women and men are rebuilding their lives. Before we ended our tour we drove through the lower Ninth ward. Long before Katrina, the hurricane of poverty had already made this area one of the poorest anywhere in the world. Louisiana’s Episcopal Bishop Jenkins told us afterward in his sermon at the cathedral that people from New Orleans had been evacuated throughout the country to 18,000 different zip codes. He said that he had learned how hurricanes “wash away the thin façade of American respectability.” Indeed, when our façade fades, when our false self is washed away, we are all just children of God, all standing in need of love and rebuilding, in need of grace and redemption, in need of healing and hope. As we begin this second full week in the church’s season of self-examination, may our God help us to live a holier Lent. Let us remember the words in our liturgy from Ash Wednesday. Let us pray for those in great need, putting hands and feet on our prayers. Let us fast, giving up something others need far more than we do. And let us deny our false selves and affirm our true selves. Let us take up our cross, individually and collectively, so that together, we can continue to make a difference in this world. The Rev. Thomas A. Momberg |
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