The Witness: No Excuses -- Go!

No Excuses -- Go!
By Father Jake
Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Lectionary Reflections for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost (B)

Readings for Proper 10, July 16, 2006

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
Psalm 24

Amos 7:7-15
Psalm 85:8-13

AND

Ephesians 1:3-14
Mark 6:14-29

Garret Keiser wrote a wonderful book about his experiences while serving as a lay vicar in the small town of Island Pond, Vermont. The title of his book came from the passage from Amos appointed for this day: A Dresser of Sycamore Trees. While reflecting on his institution as a lay vicar, Keiser describes why he selected this title:

I thought of the prophet Amos, "a herdsman and dresser of sycamore trees," seized unaccountably by the call of the Lord and sent to prophesy to Israel. Like him, I had been raised to an important task. And, like him, in spite of the ceremony and its insignia, I was completely without credentials. "I am no prophet, nor a prophet's son…" I had never been to seminary. I was trained to be a High School English teacher. I had been confirmed only several years before. I felt exalted, yes, but also at sea.

Yet, as I look back on my service of institution, as "special" as it seemed and truly was, it bears a striking resemblance to nearly every other service in the prayer book. It was like a wedding in which the couple vows to love and honor each other for a lifetime; like a baptism in which the parents and godparents vow to raise another human being, as yet a stranger to them, in the image of Christ; like a Eucharist in which we say "amen" to the announcement that the flimsy wafer we are about to eat is the Body of Christ. In short, it was like every other service in which we are sent out to sea in a frail craft…

... we offer worship and Christian Education opportunities to prepare us for the work God has set before us. But so many times there seems to be a lot of equipping going on, but not a whole lot of ministry.

Irish monks in the Dark Ages would sometimes be set adrift, literally, in just this way, hoping to land somewhere as missionaries, but realizing that they may just as likely drown. They were only a little braver than the average bride and groom. Their mission was only a little more desperate than that of a conscientious parent. They looked only a little more precarious bobbing over the horizon than I did rising from my solemn prayer that day. They required only a little more faith.

So, when people have asked me what this book I am writing is about, I tell them it is about my ministry in Island Pond, and after I tell them that the title comes from Amos, I say that the book is about doing any work for which one has very little formal preparation. I tell them that it is, essentially, a book about what almost everybody I know is doing almost every day of his or her life.
-- Garret Keiser, A Dresser of Sycamore Trees, pp. 47-48.

In most communities of faith, there is often a tension between the need for inner nurture and our call to outreach, which is sometimes described as a tension between maintenance and mission. Both are necessary, of course. Yet my experience is that unless we push ourselves a little bit, it is maintaining our need to be nurtured that often wins this tug of war.

It seems to me that one of the primary roles of any congregation is to "equip the saints for ministry." To some degree, we offer worship and Christian Education opportunities to prepare us for the work God has set before us. But so many times there seems to be a lot of equipping going on, but not a whole lot of ministry. It's as if sometimes we feel that we're not quite ready -- one more class, one more experience of the living God, or one more prayer, and then (and only then!) we'll be go out into the world and proclaim the Good News.

We are ready for this mission, whether we know it or not. What are we waiting for?

In the Gospel According to Mark we hear of John the Baptizer boldly proclaiming repentance and forgiveness through Baptism, without recourse to the Temple institutions or the Temple hierarchy. We hear also of John's confronting Herod Antipas about his attempt to consolidate power through a politically advantageous new marriage. I would imagine that more than a few of John's followers gulped hard before accompanying him with that message. But John and his followers continued in their prophetic preaching, and their ministries were blessed by God.

We have been called to go forth into the world and bear witness to the healing power of God's love. Inspired by the prophetic ministries of Amos, John, and Jesus, we bear witness in word and deed. And we always remember that with each step of the way, we will find Christ in our midst, who breathes the Spirit upon all disciples. That is the only provision we will need, and John prepared the way before Jesus. We are ready for this mission, whether we know it or not. What are we waiting for?

Amidst the struggles that the Church faces today, there will be times as we venture out into the world when we are called to prophetic ministry. We must put our hope in Christ, and not shy away from this calling. But what might it mean for us to step forward in this moment in prophetic ministry?
Carter Heyward, the recently retired Howard Chandler Robbins Professor of Theology at the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Massachusetts, offers some possibilities in her essay entitled "Make Us Prophets and Pastors: An Open Letter to Gay and Lesbian Priests" in Gays and the Future of Anglicanism: Responses to the Windsor Report. As Heyward reminds us, calls for compromise for the sake of the "unity of the church" have historically been a cry against such justice movements as those which advocated for the abolition of slavery, women's rights and civil rights. Authentic unity would be based on mutual respect, formed from an awareness of cultural differences.

Heyward clarifies that there are two possible responses to our current situation:

Like Amos and John the Baptizer, we are called to a stance of prophetic resistance to injustice wherever we find it.

Oppressed people can either identify with, and mimic, the oppressor or we can commit ourselves, again and again to the struggles for liberation, for others and ourselves. Our choice, as lesbian and gay priests today, is either to make a truce with oppression or to take on the mantel of the prophet.

And although Heyward's title directs her letter to priests, her words hold true for layfolk, deacons, and bishops as well. Like Amos and John the Baptizer, we are called to a stance of prophetic resistance to injustice wherever we find it, leaving political marriages of convenience and truces with oppression to would-be kings like Herod.

To be sure, stepping into such a prophetic role will be difficult. We will make some people uncomfortable with our words and actions. No doubt this role was difficult for Amos as well -- and John handed over his very life to it. But if we have been called by God to this ministry, it is time to drop the excuses and go! The road may be hard, but the joy and peace we find on it will be deep, for our companion on the journey is Christ, who promised, "I am with you always, to the end of the age."

Father Jake is an Episcopal priest serving in the Diocese of New Jersey. Visit his blog at Father Jake Stops the World.