Blessed are the merciful,
for they will receive mercy.
— from the Gospel of Matthew
This is my next-to-last column for One Bread, One Body so I am going to push the envelope a bit.
In many congregations, there is a custom of giving a pastor some meaningful or symbolic gift when he or she leaves.
I remember from my Roman Catholic days how often a pastor who had been appointed a bishop would find himself behind the wheel of a shiny new car of his choosing.
I always found it interesting to see what kind of car the new bishop asked for!
So I am going to be bold and ask for a gift. Not a car! And of course not a gift for me personally!!
But if you’d like to say Thank You or wish me well, I hope you will consider doing it with a meaningful gift — of money, talent, or time (or all three) — to St. Nicholas.
For what St. Nicholas needs most of all is your whole-hearted commitment. I hope in the years ahead that St. Nicholas grows stronger and stronger, and the way it will do that is through your generosity.
Money matters. But so does your time and energy. Be generous and you will be amazed at what you will become as a community.
With much affection,
Steve
Steve’s Penultimate Homily
I wanted to leave you with some final “theological” thoughts and realized that this, my next-to-last homily at St. Nicholas, sums up what I have sought to share with you as well as anything else I could write.
“The People Who Lived in a Land of Deep Darkness”
A homily for the people of St. Nicholas by Stephen Martz 23 January 2011
Isaiah 9:1-4 + Psalm 27 + 1 Corinthians 1:10-18 + Matthew 4:12-23
The people who walked in darkness…who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them light has shined.
How surprising it is, as I prepare to leave St. Nicholas, that of all the texts in the Bible, this one, this great Christmas text of Isaiah, presents itself.
The people who walked in darkness…who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them light has shined.
How fitting, in a week in which I have sat with several members of this congregation in the deep darkness life can bring, that this text appears, asking me to engage it with you one final time.
The people who walked in darkness…who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them light has shined.
For this passage, more than almost any other, speaks the central truth of God I have known, and have sought to share with you for fifteen and a half years.
The people who walked in darkness…who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them light has shined.
Happy are they who move through life untouched by darkness. Yet few of us do, even in this mostly prosperous country of ours.
Darkness comes in too many personal forms — despair, debilitating physical illness, gripping mental illness, a traumatic childhood, a divided family life, anxiety, depression, grief, death and loss.
Why me? is a question that passes many lips.
The social forms of darkness also are myriad and, unless our hearts are made of stone, Why my neighbor? has formed on our lips, too, as we’ve witnessed war, terror, famine, epidemic, genocide — either abroad or sometimes at home.
Our lives, emotionally, and sometimes literally, hang by a thread as we seek to find our way through life’s darkness, seek the house of God where we might safely dwell all the days of our lives.
And why, why, we ask, do some find safety and others not? Why did some die in the Arizona shooting, and others survive? Why was there a shooting at all?
Why, in the macro question that has haunted my personal spiritual journey from its early days, why the Shoah, or Holocaust? How could God?….
Or the equally disturbing micro question of my journey: why the death of my friend Sue 30 years ago at age 26? How could God?….
I ask these questions, and you ask your own, similar questions, but the darkness often does not seem to reply. Too often, God is silent. And yet, says the prophet, light shines.
The people who walked in darkness…who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them light has shined.
Do we not perceive it? Be honest. Have you seen – do you see — a great light? Feel bathed by it? I think sometimes we do, and sometimes we don’t; sometimes for all our trying, we just cannot.
There have been moments in my life when the divine light has been so bright, I felt almost blinded. I think especially of Jonathan and David’s births.
There have been other times when I’ve caught glimpses of the light, seen enough to know it was really there, and that I wasn’t just imagining.
And there have been periods – I think back especially to my work with people affected by AIDS – when all I could perceive was darkness — deep, deep darkness.
Yet, truth be told, even then, in the midst of some of the deepest darkness imaginable – AIDS in the 80s — I remember a pale glimmer of light.
Some of you have heard me tell the story of John, to whom I became quite close during the last months of his life in 1985.
Of how I would sit in a darkened room on the floor next to his bed, and, as he rested, let my eyes wander to a poster on his wall. The poster, among other images, had a pale yellow moon sitting atop several barren trees.
How on the morning of his death, after his body had been removed from his apartment, his brother raised the blinds and the eastern sun streamed in. As it did, I saw something I had never seen before, and immediately felt a deep peace.
Traced within that moon was the outline of a lily. On that morning of great grief and palpable darkness, the sun rose and the flower of resurrection bloomed.
The people who walked in darkness…who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them light has shined.
I don’t know about you, but my experience has often been that the light shines through people, shines in community. There is something so amazing about human beings, human lives. Even in the midst of difficult times or great suffering, we frequently shine.
I was struck by that once again this week, as I spent an afternoon and evening visiting several people, all of whom were walking in darkness.
In the morning, I had met with three analytic clients, and so it had been an emotionally full day before the pastoral visits even began. When I got home about 8 that night, I expected to feel exhausted.
But I did not. Instead, I noticed a spring in my step. My body felt energized, and my spirit, I noticed, was upbeat, thankful, joyful.
I had just spent 10 or 11 hours walking in darkness. Why was I suddenly filled with joy? Well, as another great Christmas text — the opening chapter of John’s gospel — puts it, The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
Darkness and light. These have been central to my spiritual journey, to the ways I have known God’s presence (and absence) in the world, and of course to my preaching. It seems inevitable that I return to them today.
The darkness of life can be deep, and sometimes, when we are in the midst of it, no matter how hard we try, we cannot see, cannot feel, Divine light penetrating its depths.
Yet, says Isaiah,
The people who walked in darkness…who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them light has shined.
Yet, says John,
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
To their ancient wisdom, I add simply: do not fear darkness. Jesus did not. He wrestled with the powers and principalities of darkness, and so must we.
As you do, hold fast to the reality of Incarnation.
- The light shines in the darkness.
- It pierces the deepest darkness.
- The Divine is alive within you, alive in your neighbor.
When we hold dark and light in tension, we live with Jesus in the mystery of a faith which does not ignore darkness yet does not give it too much power. We live hope-filled lives alive to the joy of God-with-us, and within us.
That’s what I experienced that July morning 25 years ago when the lily suddenly bloomed in the light of the eastern sun.
It’s what I experienced when I came home this week after those pastoral visits.
It’s what I’ve experienced time and again during my years among you, for this is a place where the light often shines in the darkness.
And it is what I have sought to help you to deepen. I hope you will always trust that great light shining in the midst of darkness.
Now, about this time, you may be expecting me, with rhetorical flourish, to conclude with those powerful verses from Isaiah that have been the touchstone of today’s homily.
But I leave you instead with words from another, very different prophet, Oscar Wilde, who makes the same point in equally memorable language: “All of us are in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
Wherever you are, wherever you go in the years ahead, always be people who look at the stars. And look for them especially in one another.
Say farewell to Steve this Sunday
As the countdown begins to Steve’s final Sunday at St. Nicholas –February 6 — a farewell potluck party for Steve and his family is set for Sunday, January 30, immediately following worship.
Steve has requested that in lieu of any gift, those wishing to give thanks for his ministry make a donation of time or money to St. Nicholas.
In the unlikely (we hope) event of a snowstorm, the event will be held the following Sunday.
What happens when a vicar leaves?
Come find out February 13
Canon Randall Warren of diocesan staff will be at St. Nicholas on Sunday, February 13 to discuss with the parish the next steps toward assuring ongoing ordained leadership for St. Nicholas. He wants to hear from everyone in the parish about their hopes and desires for future leadership of St. Nicholas and so all are encouraged to join him in conversation immediately following worship that day.
In order for everyone to be able to meet with Canon Warren, there will be no Saturday liturgy Saturday, February 12.
Bishop’s Committee Corner
I talked with Canon Randall Warren this week and he explained to me that we will be going through a required Diocesan process to discern how we go forward in selecting our new priest. Canon Warren will meet with the Bishop’s Committee Saturday, February 5, to explain that process more thoroughly. He further explained that the process is tailored to fit the needs of the parish.
In the meantime, Manny has agreed to “up” his hours and preside at our Saturday and Sunday services. When able, Paul will assist.
Canon Warren will preside and meet with the entire congregation Sunday, February 13. There will be no services Saturday, February 12, so that everyone can be present on February 13. Please talk to your Bishop’s Committee members to let us know your feelings and concerns – Steve Raftery, Val Gruenwald, Bill Barlow, Paul Swanson, Jessica Tamaski, Charles Paris, and Pat Kalicki.
In light of all of this, our annual meeting has been postponed until Sunday, February 27.
–Pat
Pledges still welcome
If you have not yet pledged to support St. Nicholas in 2011, please know that you can still do so. Forms are available at church.
Please help continue the wonderful work done by St. Nicholas by completing your pledge form and bringing it to church Saturday or Sunday.
Yoga coming to St. Nick’s
Susan Lloyd has graciously volunteered to lead a Yoga class two Sundays a month following worship. What a great way to deepen our appreciation of the Eucharist! Watch this space for details.
