This reflection is about an epiphany from one of the saints I have known, Marjorie B. Lester. I became Marjorie’s pastor at Houston’s Bering Memorial Church in January of 1978 when she was 95 years old. Marjorie was born in Kentucky in 1882. Her father was murdered when Marjorie was not quite 5 years old. She married when she was 15, bore three children, and was widowed at the age of 46. Somehow, in the early years of her marriage, she managed to study law and was the second woman admitted to the bar in the Commonwealth of Kentucky. Around 1910, the Lester’s moved to Texas, first to Hardeman County, then to Corpus Christi. She told me that following the death of her husband she moved to Houston to take a position in charge of corporate records for United Gas Pipeline, which position she held until her retirement in 1947. After retirement, Marjorie devoted much of her time, talent, and energy to programs for seniors. In 1957, she was appointed to the Governor’s Committee on Aging and in 1958, President Dwight D. Eisenhower appointed her to the White House Conference on Aging. She died at the age of 101. It was my first time to serve as a senior pastor and she was in many ways a mentor to me as she had been for pastors who preceded me. In October of my first year at Bering, our stewardship campaign theme was “Open the Doors.” The pledge cards were printed and folded to resemble the main doors of the church. On the Sunday members were asked to complete their pledge cards and bring them to the Altar, Marjorie raised her walking cane in the air and asked to say a few words to the congregation. She came to the front of the nave, stood facing those who were gathered there, leaned on her cane, and challenged everyone to give generously. She concluded her remarks by pointing to the doors of the church with that cane and saying, “The Apostle Paul would be envious of the mission field at our doorstep.” She then returned to her pew and sat down. 60% of the pledge cards turned in that morning had the original numbers erased or crossed out and higher amounts filled in! Marjorie’s closing words rang in my ears for the remaining eight years I served in that place and they have remained with me ever since. It became my practice at the end of the service to invite worshipers to turn and face the door of the church for the Dismissal. From there, through the door of the church, near the Baptismal Font if possible, and with the Book of the Gospels in my hands, having been nourished by Word and Sacrament, I send Christ's followers into “the mission field at our doorstep.” Above the Choir in the front of that church is a stained glass window I have never especially liked. It is a poor representation of William Holman Hunt’s famous painting of Jesus “The Light of the World” knocking on a door. In Hunt’s painting, there is no latch on the door, the implication being that it must be opened from the inside. However, in this particular window, there is a huge latch right there in front of Jesus. I could never reconcile the window with what I believed about the way Jesus enters our lives. Until recently! A story shared by Bishop Scott Mayer in a sermon at the Ordination of Deacons provided the very insight I needed. It was a story told by a Roman Catholic Cardinal, Blasé Cupich of Chicago – a story about the days leading up to the Conclave to choose the current Pope. In the days leading up to the Conclave, it is their practice for the gathered Cardinals to deliver addresses designed to help their colleagues discern where the Holy Spirit is calling the Church. Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Argentina took his turn and remarked that, “In the Revelation to John, Jesus says that he stands at the door and knocks.” “The idea,” he continued, “is that Jesus is knocking from outside the door.” But Cardinal Bergoglio inverted the image … and asked his fellow Cardinals and indeed the whole Church to consider “the times in which Jesus knocks from within so that we will let him come out.” When the Church keeps Christ to herself and does not let him out … it becomes “self-referential – and then gets sick. The Church must go out of itself to the peripheries, to minister to the needy.” Evidently, Cardinal Bergoglio spoke the words the Church needed to hear, for he was called. We know him now as Pope Francis. Jesus wants to lead us out into the mission field at our doorstep, as Marjorie so powerfully envisioned it 45 years ago this month. I rejoice to say that the faithful of Bering Memorial Church are still going out there, responding with love and compassion to the needs of others. The doors continue to open outward and through them all kinds of people come and go. Marjorie was one of them. There is no way to even estimate how many lives she has touched. I am grateful she touched mine and, hopefully, many others who’ve heard my stories about her.
Yesterday, a friend shared a couple of stanzas of a Good Friday hymn written by Seventeenth Century Hungarian poet Király Imre von Pécselyi and translated into English by Twentieth Century Congregationalist minister, composer, and musicologist Erik Routley. The common title of the hymn is “There in God’s Garden” and it is also known as “The Tree of Wisdom.” Alabama composer K. Lee Scott wrote the tune “Shades Mountain” specifically for this text.
I was introduced to the hymn during my two-year residence in Mississippi as Interim Dean of Jackson’s St. Andrew’s Cathedral. It became one of my favorite hymns, with its message of hope for the healing of the nations. Organist/Choirmaster Jessica Nelson led the Cathedral Choir and Congregation in singing it in my last Sunday service there, which was also the occasion for my retirement from active ministry. This seems like a good time to share it.
I invite you to contemplate the words, read the article by Emily R. Brink, and immerse yourself in the music, here sung by the Choir and Congregation of First-Plymouth Church in Lincoln, Nebraska.
There in God’s garden stands the Tree of Wisdom, whose leaves hold forth the healing of the nations: Tree of all knowledge, Tree of all compassion, Tree of all beauty.
Its name is Jesus, name that says, “Our Savior!” There on its branches see the scars of suffering; see where the tendrils of our human selfhood feed on its lifeblood.
Thorns not its own are tangled in its foliage; our greed has starved it, our despite has choked it. Yet, look! It lives! Its grief has not destroyed it nor fire consumed it.
See how its branches reach to us in welcome; hear what the Voice says, “Come to me, ye weary! Give me your sickness, give me all your sorrow; I will give blessing.”
This is my ending, this my resurrection: into your hands, Lord, I commit my spirit. This have I searched for; now I can possess it. This ground is holy.
All heaven is singing, “Thanks to Christ whose Passion offers in mercy healing, strength, and pardon. Peoples and nations, take it, take it freely!” Amen! Our Savior!
The Rev. G. Runge Nease was my Pastor during my spiritually formative teen years. He often recited verses from Psalm 8 as the Opening Sentence for worship, reminding us that God is always mindful of us and that we are created a little lower than the Holy Angels. I can hear his voice even now six decades later proclaiming, "O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy Name in all the earth..."
We may - and often do - forget God, but God never forgets us, is always mindful of us, reaches out to us in Love Divine. I often pray this collect on Thursdays and imagine I'm walking with those disciples along the Road to Emmaus on that first Easter Day. The Risen Christ was their companion on that journey but they didn't recognize him.
Heavenly Father, in you we live and move and have our being: We humbly pray you so to guide and govern us by your Holy Spirit, that in all the cares and occupations of our life we may not forget you, but may remember that we are ever walking in your sight; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Pastor Nease planted the seed of understanding in me that continues to reassure me every step along the way and every hour of every day, God is mindful of me, even when I am not mindful of God. My ultimate worth to my Creator is like that of the Angels.
Here's the Psalm 8 sung in magnificent Anglican chant.
Psalm 8
Domine, Dominus noster
1. O LORD our Governor, how excellent is thy Name in all the world: thou that hast set thy glory above the heavens!
2. Out of the mouth of very babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength, because of thine enemies: that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger.
3. For I will consider thy heavens, even the works of thy fingers: the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained.
4. What is man, that thou art mindful of him: and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
5. Thou madest him lower than the angels: to crown him with glory and worship.
6. Thou makest him to have dominion of the works of thy hands: and thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet;
7. All sheep and oxen: yea, and the beasts of the field;
8. The fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea: and whatsoever walketh through the paths of the seas.
9. O Lord our Governor: how excellent is thy Name in all the world.
The Hymns of Charles Wesley are among the finest treasures of Christian verse, sung by Anglicans, Methodists, and others around the world. Today, I selected one of his hymns for the Unapologetically Episcopalian Facebook page, "O Thou Who Camest From Above." As I listened to the music and read the words, I had an epiphany. It dawned on me that, even though this hymn is included in both The Hymnal 1982 (Episcopal) and The United Methodist Hymnal, I don't recall ever choosing it for corporate worship. In fact, I don't remember ever singing it at any time during my 49 years of ordained ministry.
The text is a reflection upon a verse from the Book of Leviticus: “A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar; it shall not go out” (Leviticus 6:13 NRSV). It has sacramental overtones in Christian liturgy as in the traditional Great Thanksgiving handed down to Anglicans and Methodists alike, we pray, "And here we offer unto thee, O Lord, our selves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice unto thee..." Those familiar with the Christian experience of both Charles Wesley and his brother John Wesley, may recognize an allusion to their experience, which John described as one that gave him faith in Christ who kindled a flame in the "altar of my heart."
Interestingly, Hereford, the tune to which the hymn is set in the aforementioned hymnals and in the recording below is by composer Samuel Sebastian Wesley, grandson of Charles Wesley, who was Organist of Hereford Cathedral early in his career. His father, Samuel Wesley, was also a noted English organist and composer.
This hymn is a supplication to our Savior to supply the spiritual guidance and gifts to allow his followers to fulfill the vocation to work, think, and speak for him every day. It is a perfect prayer for any Christian's daily life and I commend it to you. Perhaps it will become a spiritual practice for you in your journey of faith in the Way of Love.
1 O thou who camest from above the fire celestial to impart, kindle a flame of sacred love on the mean altar of my heart!
2 There let it for thy glory burn with inextinguishable blaze, and trembling to its source return in humble prayer and fervent praise.
3 Jesus, confirm my heart's desire to work, and speak, and think for thee; still let me guard the holy fire, and still stir up the gift in me.
4 Ready for all thy perfect will, my acts of faith and love repeat; till death thy endless mercies seal, and make the sacrifice complete.
Modern personnel practices in secular business settings emphasize the importance of performance appraisals. Some of that spills over into our perspective on our life as followers of Jesus Christ. That is not necessarily a good thing.
Business and the economy are concerned with performance and productivity. People are useful as long as they are able to contribute to the bottom line. People easily become cogs in the wheels of commerce.
Jesus was concerned about fruitfulness. He said, "Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:4-5).
I helped a family say goodbye to a loved one who was a renowned surgeon, husband, father, and Christian gentleman. During those last minutes of his life, they were not concerned in the least with his performance. They spoke of the wonderful life he lived and the stewardship of his gifts as a physician that allowed him to heal, save lives, give people another chance. "That was why he was put here," they said. He understood that God had made him a physician and guided his hands in God's healing work. He lived a fruitful life.
Every life he touched made a difference to others. We'll never know how many. I recalled a bit of wisdom:"Anyone can count the number of seeds in an apple, but only God can count the number of apples in a seed." Fruitful people go around planting seeds. Those seeds germinate, take root, sprout, grow, and produce fruit. And so the process continues from generation to generation.
Here's a question: When you die, do you want someone to say about you, "He always had good performance appraisals," or do you want it said, "He lived a fruitful life"?
Do what you have to do to earn a living, keep your job, and provide for your family. Be a top performer. But don't confuse being a cog in the wheel with living a fruitful, abundant, Christian life.
Blessings,
The Very Reverend Ron Pogue Interim Rector St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church Keller, Texas
When I was a child, I loved attending Sunday School. I had some amazingly loving and deeply faithful teachers whose influence profoundly affected the formation of my faith in a loving God. I can see them and hear their voices now as if it were only yesterday - Mr. Frantis, Mrs. Brittian, Mrs. Baber, and others. They loved us and shared their faith in Jesus with us. They reinforced the faith into which our parents were trying to guide us.
However, when I looked back on that time from the perspective of a young adult in the late 1960's, I realized something was wrong. They taught us to sing (with gusto) "Jesus Loves the Little Children." In that song, there is a line that says, "Red and yellow, black, and white, they are precious in his sight." But the church I attended was 100% white. From its members I overheard conversations from time to time about the place of our neighbors who were black, brown, and yellow. When I looked back, I realized that, while Jesus loves people besides white people, my white church people didn't. Jesus might love them, but they weren't really welcome in my church. Jesus might love them, but they weren't worthy of the dignity and respect enjoyed by white people. Jesus might love them, but our behavior toward them didn't have to look like we love them as he loves us. Jesus might love them, but they had better not act "uppity." (And what about brown children?)
If you grew up in a racist culture like I did, you know what I am talking about. Perhaps for you, as for me, recognizing that something was wrong was an epiphany, a time for repentance, and the beginning of transformation. My world could no longer be all white with a little color around the edges.
This all came to me during a time when black people were turned away from white churches. It was a struggle for one like me, who was taught that people of all colors are precious in the sight of Jesus, to reconcile that message with the actions I was witnessing. Given the rhetoric of the day, I suppose I could have rejected that message and clung to what seemed to be the majority view reflected in the rhetoric and behavior of my white world. But the security, control, and privilege of that world was slipping away. Abandoning it or confronting it could be dangerous. White people said harsh and hateful things to other white people who didn't participate in keeping non-white people "in their place." The message wasn't wrong; my white, privileged, dominant world was wrong and I couldn't live in it anymore. I had to set out on a journey toward someplace else. I'm still on that journey.
Recent events in our nation have brought me to the sad truth that many of my fellow white people are still trapped in that world. It is even sadder that they seem to be completely unconscious of it. They say and do things that are blatantly racist yet are oblivious. I know it's true because I've been there and I still find myself trying to overcome some of those prejudices that were planted in me long ago. People of color who loved me enough to point out the harm, sometimes hatefulness, of my words and actions stuck with me until I began to understand where they were coming from and how my words and my behavior affected them. Many of those people are still in my life. I give thanks to God for them. I've sort of been their lifelong project and I'm still not finished. They patiently continue on the journey with me. And as we travel, we sing that song hoping our rainbow beliefs are evident in our lives. Maybe the colors of our rainbow are still a little bit pastel, but we hope they are growing more vibrant with each step we take together. Together.
So, what I wanted to suggest today to my friends of all colors, races, religions, genders, and nationalities is that it might help heal our fractured, hurting world if we would sing this song and test ourselves to see if our words and actions show that we really believe it is true. Whether you believe that Jesus is God Incarnate, a wise prophet, or just a very gutsy nice guy, could it be true that he loves all the children of the world? Are all of us - red, yellow, black, white, brown - really precious in his sight? If I am one of the Jesus people, shouldn't they be precious in my sight as well? How do I love and treat people who are precious in Jesus' sight? Who are precious in my sight?
This isn't a final exam! It's a pop quiz to monitor progress in a lifelong course. I invite you to take it with me and see if we can be the difference we'd like to see in God's amazing, changing world.
Blessings,
The Very Reverend Ron Pogue Interim Rector St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church Keller, Texas
One of the earliest names for God in the Hebrew scriptures is יְהוָֹה יִרְאֶה (Jehovah Jireh), meaning "God will provide." (cf. Genesis 22:14)
The collects for the first several Sundays after Pentecost emphasize how God provides for us. For example:
O God, your never‑failing providence sets in order all things both in heaven and earth: Put away from us, we entreat you, all hurtful things, and give us those things which are profitable for us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.Amen.
And this:
O God, from whom all good proceeds: Grant that by your inspiration we may think those things that are right, and by your merciful guiding may do them; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
In a world where we are encouraged to believe that what we have comes only through our work, ambition, the political process, the economy, war, or some other human endeavor, it is refreshing to be reminded that God provides! Moreover, when we consider the potential danger of confronting the evils of our time - racism, wealth inequality, greed, mendacity, war, hatred, disenfranchisement - we must have moral courage beyond what we can summon for ourselves.
Learn to look through the window of your soul to recognize God’s hand at work. Awakening to that reality brings about a transformation of consciousness that liberates us from dependence upon material things and deepens our love for our Creator and Provider.
Blessings,
The Very Reverend Ron Pogue Interim Rector St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church Keller, Texas
The Holy Trinity is a doctrine, a teaching, developed over time by the Church as an aspect of the unfolding revelation of God derived from, but not confined to the pages of sacred scripture.
Doctrine is not Truth, with a capital “T”, but rather our faithful approach to or reach for the Truth. Doctrine that really matters is more than an intellectual pursuit or a theory. The best doctrines are those that speak to deeply felt needs of those who seek God. For example…
We have a need to know who created the universe and placed us in it. In response, the Church tells us that it is the Lord God Almighty who is the Creator and Parent of all life and being. We see God’s hand at work in the world around us. It is powerful, though only a glimpse. To see God face to face is something we hope for and long for and live for.
We also need to know that we have a source of forgiveness and understanding that will not let us down. In our declaration of the divinity of Jesus Christ, we are saying that God sees us not just from the viewpoint of a loving Creator/Parent, but with redemptive concern as well. God’s reason for dealing with us in Jesus Christ is to offer us forgiveness of sin, release from guilt, to reconcile us and draw us closer to the ultimate purpose for all creation.
And, we need to know that we have a friend who is near, always able to sustain our faith, bind us together in worship, and empower us in God’s mission. So, we proclaim that God is the Holy Spirit, ever present in our midst for guidance, comfort, and strength. As St. Paul says, the Spirit of God bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God and heirs with Christ of God’s amazing grace (Romans 8:16-17).
The Holy Trinity: Three expressions of how One Living God relates to everything and everyone in the universe. More than a theory, it is a teaching given to us to help us better know who God is, how God loves us, and how God abides with us.
Blessings,
The Very Reverend Ron Pogue Interim Rector St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church Keller, Texas
There are three great festivals of the Church: Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost. Pentecost was neglected for a long time and, in some ways, is not given much attention even now, if you consider that retail merchandising and greeting cards have not figured out a way to make money from it. What happened on the Day of Pentecost and why should it continue to be important to us?
Pentecost is the Greek name for the Jewish festival that took place 50 days after Passover. The Hebrew name is Shavuot. Shavuot is the second of the three major festivals (Passover being the first and Sukkot the third) and occurs exactly fifty days after the second day of Passover. This holiday marks the anniversary of the day when God’s people received the Torah at Mount Sinai.
The word "Shavuot" means “weeks.” It marks the completion of the seven-week counting period between Passover and Shavuot. During these seven weeks the Jewish people cleansed themselves of the scars of Egyptian slavery and became a holy nation ready to enter into an eternal covenant with God with the giving of the Torah. So, the day celebrates a gift from above.
Jesus had commanded his followers to wait in the city of Jerusalem until the Holy Spirit came upon them. They needed the empowerment of the Holy Spirit in order to do what he required them to do. Suddenly, their waiting was shattered by the noise of a strong driving wind. They saw what appeared to them to be tongues of fire spreading over and resting on each person there. Everyone touched became filled with the Holy Spirit. The apostles began to speak in different languages. Moving out into the street, they encountered devout people who were in Jerusalem for the feast. As the apostles preached, people heard the message in their own languages and asked, “what does it mean?” And that is the question we ask today. What does it mean that the Holy Spirit has been poured out upon us? When we baptize people in this Church, we declare that they are “sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” What will that mean for them? And, what does it mean for you who also in Baptism have been sealed by the same Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever?
The Holy Spirit creates and renews the Church.
As the Spirit spoke to Ezekiel while he was standing in the Valley of Dry Bones: “I will put my breath in them, bring them back to life, and let them live in their own land.” The Spirit who draws people to God draws them into God’s Church and there God shapes and molds them according to God’s will into the creatures they were designed to be. God’s indwelling Spirit brings order and unity, inspires, illuminates, and gives the gifts that are needed for the Church to carry out God’s mission, as it is constantly being created and renewed.
The Holy Spirit enables us to speak God’s message.
In the Acts of the Apostles, we read, “The Spirit enabled them to speak.” This is the same Spirit who called the Prophets. We are in the communications business. By that I mean we are the instruments, the delivery system for the message of God. In our words and actions, we are called to communicate that message wherever we may be. And, because it is not our message, the giver of the message provides everything that is necessary to deliver it. If we could do it on our own, we’d have to question whether it was God’s in the first place.
The Holy Spirit enables us to hear God’s message.
The Acts of the Apostles also tells us that the people gathered for the festival heard the apostles “speaking in the native language of each.” St. John tells us that Jesus said, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth.” The miracle of Pentecost was not so much a miracle of speaking as it was a miracle of hearing. Each person heard the message in a language he or she could understand. We have to first hear the message if we are going to deliver it to others.
The Holy Spirit comforts and heals us.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus refers to the Holy Spirit as “counselor,” “comforter,” “helper.” The Holy Spirit speaks to our hearts when we are hurting, afraid, angry, or struggling with the cost of discipleship. The Holy Spirit is the breath of God, the presence of God, the power of God at work in and among us to give us the sense, the awareness of God and to recognize God’s hand at work.
The Holy Spirit convicts us of our sin.
Jesus said, “And when he comes he will convince the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment.” Sometimes, we attribute this phenomenon to our conscience. For Christians, the conscience is inspired and guided by the Holy Spirit. When we become aware of our sinfulness, it is the Holy Spirit moving within us, providing us an opportunity to turn in a new direction.
The Holy Spirit assures us of our salvation.
In the eighth chapter of St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans we are told that when we do sense our need of God, we are giving the assurance of the Holy Spirit. “The Spirit bears witness with our spirit.” That’s how we know, truly know, that God loves us, forgives us, and restores us to a relationship that we cannot either create or sustain on our own.
The Holy Spirit magnifies Christ.
Jesus said, “he will glorify me because he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” St. Paul wrote to the Corinthian Christians, “No one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except in the Holy Spirit” (I Cor. 12:3). When we gather for worship and when we are sent out into the mission field, the Holy Spirit prompts us to magnify Christ in words and actions.
To be filled with the Holy Spirit is to want others to know God’s deeds in Christ. The Holy Spirit moves people to praise the mighty works of God and to offer themselves, their souls and bodies, to participate in those mighty acts for the sake of the world.
I invite you to join me in reflecting on the work of the Holy Spirit as you listen to my favorite Pentecost hymn, Come Down, O Love Divine. Together, let us seek the indwelling Spirit in our own lives and in the life of the Church.
Blessings,
The Very Reverend Ron Pogue Interim Rector St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church Keller, Texas
The Reverend Ken Kesselus tells the following story:
Once when a certain preacher launched into a children’s sermon, she was confronted by a visiting child, an eight-year-old friend of a regular member. The boy was new to this church, but was a regular attendee at another congregation that did not have children’s sermons. Nevertheless, the visitor tried his best to follow the line of the preacher’s effort to connect with the children. Attempting to hook the children with something familiar before making her point, the priest asked the children to identify what she would describe. “What is fuzzy and has a long tail?” No response. “What has big teeth and climbs in trees?” Still no response. After she asked, “What jumps around a lot and gathers nuts and hides them?” the visiting boy could stand the silence no longer. He blurted out, “Look, lady, I know the answer is supposed to be ‘Jesus,’ but it sure sounds like a squirrel to me.”
Human beings usually want to give the “right” answer, the answer others expect. The eight-year-old boy had more courage than most of us might have had. He acknowledged what he thought others might want him to say, but he found a way to express his doubt.
Each year on the Second Sunday of Easter, we read the gospel account of St. Thomas the Apostle in which he expresses his own doubt about reports of the Resurrection of Jesus (John 20:19-31). He had not been in the company of the other Apostles when Jesus appeared to them that first Easter. When the others told him they had seen the Risen Savior, he couldn’t believe it. He may have wanted to “go along in order to get along” with the others, but he was compelled to express his doubt. He might have said, “I know the answer is supposed to be that I believe you saw Jesus, but it sure sounds like a ghost to me.”
A week later, Thomas had the opportunity to see for himself and confirm in his own experience that the Risen Christ was not a ghost. But for a period of time, he was skeptical. His questioning and doubting must have been as hard for him as it was for the little boy trying to understand the illustration about the squirrel. Because we too struggle with what may seem clear to others and with accepted norms, we can identify with Thomas and the little boy. I am grateful to be a part of a Church where it is safe for people to express their doubts and ask their questions and challenge accepted norms. It is a Church where we don’t have to mindlessly accept what seems to be the accepted answer or point of view. It is a Church where it is okay to be doubtful, confused, and skeptical. It is a Church where we can remain in the company of others as we struggle with matters of doubt and faith. It is a Church where from childhood we are encouraged to ask questions and to wonder as we journey toward faith.
The example of Thomas’ honesty and forthrightness fosters hope in us and empowers us in our seasons of doubt. We need that kind of faith community as we wonder where God fits in with harsh and frightening realities of life and death. We need a faith community where we can be encountered by the Risen Christ who can lead us to the truth, just as he led Thomas. In such a community, we can work through our uncertainties and emerge on the other side with an even stronger faith, just as Thomas did.
The story of Thomas affirms that doubt can give way to faith, just as death is overcome by life. It assures us that the God we worship can handle our doubts and fears. It tells us that honesty is necessary in our relationship with God and God’s own people in times of uncertainty as well as in times of confidence.
The Apostles were blessed because they saw the Risen Christ and believed. The chief requirement for those first Apostles was that they were witnesses to the Resurrection. Their subsequent ministry was to nurture faith among others who had not seen. Jesus said to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The ongoing work of this Church is to continue the ministry of the Apostles and foster the even greater blessing that comes from walking by faith and not by sight.And for every generation of Christians since the first one, if we are honest about it, we have to admit that faith in Jesus Christ requires at least some struggle with doubt.
That’s really what Easter is all about. We are Easter People, traveling together on a marvelous journey toward those faith-filled moments when we discover the Risen One at work in our lives and in our world – moments so profound that we can only exclaim with Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”
Blessings,
The Very Reverend Ron Pogue Interim Rector St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church Keller, Texas
During the forty days of Lent each year we spend time getting ready for the celebration of Easter. There is fasting, self-denial, prayer, intensified devotion, scripture study, and other disciplines designed to cleanse our hearts.
Then, comes the big celebration. Easter. Like so many Christian holy days, Easter seems to disappear the next day as life returns to "normal." But Easter should be more than that to us! It certainly was to those early disciples. Easter is more than a day!
Easter is a season of celebration.The Risen Christ walked among his disciples for forty days after his resurrection. He taught them, ate with them, prayed with them, and loved them. Before he was taken up into heaven, he promised to send the Comforter, the Holy Spirit. The promise was fulfilled on the fiftieth day when they were in Jerusalem celebrating the Jewish feast of Shavuot, the Feast of Weeks. In Greek, it is called Pentecost. Pentecost is seven weeks, or fifty days, after the observance of Passover and commemorates the spring wheat harvest. This feast has also been associated with the remembrance of the giving of the Law to Moses. As the law was written on tablets of stone, the Spirit would write God's law upon the hearts of believers. When Moses came down from the mountain, he found God's people worshipping an idol and 3,000 of them died. When the Spirit was given, the disciples were obediently waiting in Jerusalem. 3,000 people were saved! The New People of the New Covenant were empowered by the Life-giving Spirit to be Christ's Body in the world, proclaiming to everyone the Easter message that Christ is alive.
Easter is a lifestyle. We are Easter People! As those early disciples in Jerusalem, Emmaus, and Galilee experienced the living presence of the Risen Christ, so we recognize that he stands among us today. To paraphrase Jesus, "believing is seeing." When we hear the Word and share in the Holy Meal, it is easier to experience his presence "enthroned upon the praises of his people." The challenging part comes when we go about our day-to-day lives. As Christ's Body touches the world through you and me when we are apart from one another, do you suppose the Living Presence is felt?
Easter is our only hope. St. Peter writes, "By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead..." (I Peter 1:3). There is a lot of help out there for people with all kinds of needs. But Christians believe that beyond help, people need hope. So what if you are physically or emotionally well. Life is just not complete without hope. The Easter faith gives the world hope.
So, don't let Easter fade like the blooms on your Easter Lily! Easter is more than a day; it is a season, a lifestyle, and a faith that fills our lives with hope.
Blessings,
The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue Interim Rector St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church Keller, Texas
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