Charge Delivered by The Rev. Dr. Harold T. Lewis

CHARGE DELIVERED BY THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA ON THE OCCASION OF THE 152ND ANNUAL PARISH MEETING ON THE FIFTH SUNDAY OF EASTER 6 MAY 2007


"Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses . . . let us run with patience the race that is set before us." (Hebrews 12:1)

At our Newcomers' Brunch last Sunday, everybody wore a nametag. Since I figured that everybody knew my name, I decided to put something different on my nametag. So with a red magic marker I wrote the letters XV. People tried to guess what it meant. Even when they figured out that it was "15" in Roman numerals, people were puzzled. Almost all the newcomers (and a few old-timers) were stumped. Then I confessed. I explained that it is a reference to the fact that I am the fifteenth rector of Calvary Church. My nametag was more than a gimmicky way to start a conversation. It serves as a reminder, a humbling reminder to me, that I stand on the shoulders of fourteen distinguished priests, and that God willing, I precede the ministries of fourteen more. I am reminded of this periodically, as when I sit in the conference room where portraits of all the rectors hang; or when I study the niches on the west wall containing their names --- yes, at Calvary, all rectors have the honor of being chiseled in stone! This goodly heritage came to me in a special way just a few months after arriving at Calvary ten years ago, when Charlie Jarrett took me to lunch and informed me that I was his eighth rector!

But of course the cloud of witnesses with whose legacy we have been entrusted is made up of more than the guys in the corner office. Scores of assistant clergy and wardens, hundreds of vestry members and untold thousands of God's faithful people have, through their generosity of spirit, erected this magnificent house of worship, built up the Body of Christ here, have prayed and worshipped here, laughed and cried here, and have been fortified by the sacraments in this place --- or, as I like to say, they have come here to be hatched, matched and dispatched! As we observe the 152nd Annual Parish Meeting, I ask that we meditate on the 1st verse of the 12th chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews: "Since we are surrounded with so great a cloud of witnesses, . . . let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus who is the author and finisher of our faith." It is not coincidental that the Prayer Book incorporates part of this verse in its preface for All Saints Day. The writer to the Hebrews (we'll call him Paul but it may have been someone else) is painting a vivid picture of the arena. Christians on their earthly pilgrimage are the runners, and the stands are full of the cloud of witnesses, those Christians who have finished the course on this earthly life, but who now cheer us on.

But "run with patience?" This gives new definition to oxymoron. Or does it? (Now, I warn you, this is one of my sermons in which I talk about things about which I know little or nothing, and today's topic is track. And, as usual, I submit myself to the corrections of experts, in this case the jocks in the congregation.) Paul is trying to tell us that the Christian life is not a 40-yard dash, but a distance race calling for endurance. We can ill afford to use all our strength in the first lap (as Street Sense proved yesterday in the Kentucky Derby). We must pace ourselves and preserve our strength for the long haul. We must exercise discipline, straining every muscle, and run with patience, (whose original meaning is "suffering") or, in the words of some translations, perseverance.

I would like to suggest that the Christian life is not just a race, in which we compete against other individuals. It is a relay race, in which we must pass on the baton of faith to subsequent generations. As today's Psalm reminds us, "One generation shall commend thy works to another and set forth thy mighty deeds" (145:4). But as every runner knows, in passing the baton, timing is everything. You can't just pass on the baton anytime you want. You must do it within the prescribed exchange zone, not before or after, and both passer and receiver must accelerate and coordinate their running speeds so as to effect a smooth transfer. Too slow, you lag behind, too fast, you run the risk of dropping the baton and losing the race altogether. I would like to suggest that in every generation --- in each exchange zone, if you will --- Calvary has managed to pass on the baton successfully. She has gained momentum at each stage, with the result that she almost always ends up ahead of the curve.

In the early decades of our existence, as our archivist Susie Wolfe can attest, the women of Calvary, and later an organization called the Sisterhood did what today we would call "outreach," providing food baskets and clothing for indigent Pittsburghers. We hear a lot today about church planting, which some would claim is a new idea. But we know that while still a fledgling parish herself, Calvary founded other congregations, including Ascension to the west, St. Stephen's to the east, and Fox Chapel to the north. When in the Sixties, wardens of certain parishes in the South stood in their church doors barring the entrance of people of color, Calvary opened a coffee house in an effort to foster racial reconciliation in this city. While others proclaimed that AIDS was a divinely inspired scourge against the gay community, Calvary was the first church in Western Pennsylvania to minister to people living with AIDS. And, most recently, while others have claimed that the ordination of a gay bishop gave them the right to secede from the Episcopal Church and take church property with them, Calvary, believing as ever that "new occasions teach new duties," sought the remedy of the courts to prevent such actions.

But when all is said and done, Calvary is not an assortment of political activists who offer up the occasional prayer. We are first and foremost a worshipping community, who, week by week, bring our selves and souls and bodies to our altars, and who, strengthened by the sacraments, are emboldened to go out into the world to do what God has given us to do. Before we do anything else, we worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.

The comments made at our Newcomers' Brunch were very instructive. Many people from other parts of the country report that they were told to affiliate with Calvary when they came to Pittsburgh because they would find it a diverse and welcoming community. Another newcomer said that he was drawn here by our music, another by the preaching, and my favorite response came from a new parishioner who said that she is grateful for the clergy here, especially Leslie, because in a parish in another diocese which she previously attended, she asked why there were no women priests. The rector's response came in the form of a question. "Were there any women at the Last Supper?" he asked.

But pride cometh before the fall. The last thing we should do is become spiritual Jack Horners, sitting in the corner of the nave, sticking our thumb in our quiche, proclaiming "What good Christians are we!" We are able to usher in the Kingdom of God in this place not because of any merits of our own but because we are the recipients of God's grace. And in response to that grace, what should we do? To answer the question, I go back to my roots, to those clergy and people of St. Philip's, Brooklyn, who handed on the baton of faith to me nearly half a century ago. One of the requirements for Confirmation was to know the answer to every question in the Catechism. The one that stuck with me is this one. Question: "What is your bounden duty and service as a Christian?" Answer: "My bounden duty and service as a Christian is to worship God every Sunday in his church, and to work, pray and give for the spread of Christ's Kingdom."

As we begin our hundred and fifty-third year as a Christian community, I charge you to work. That means finding something to do in this parish besides warming a pew. That means working as an evangelist ---- which doesn't mean standing on a street corner with a placard looking like John the Baptist, but actively seeking out and encouraging your family, friends, and neighbors and those who are alone to come to church and worship with you. Since Andrew brought Peter to Jesus, no one has come up with a more effective evangelistic tool. Pray without ceasing, both in your own devotions and in corporate worship. And when you do, pray especially for our beloved Episcopal Church, now experiencing "unhappy divisions." And finally, give. The good news is that there is the wherewithal in this parish for us --- not only to balance the budget, but to have enough to exercise our mission and ministry in ways that we can hardly imagine. The bad news is that some of that wherewithal is still in your pocket. The good news is that response to our Annual Appeal has reached an all-time high. The bad news is that there are many people --- more than you would imagine --- who give little or nothing, content to let others --- both the quick and the dead, foot the bills.

Above all, I urge you to run with patience the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.

Let us pray: Forward! Be our watchword, Steps and voices joined; Seek the things before us, Not a look behind; Burns the fiery pillar, at our army's head; Who shall dream of shrinking, by our Captain led? Forward through the desert, through the toil and fight, Jordan flows before us, Zion beams with light. [Hymn 561, The Hymnal 1940]