Sermon preached by The Rev. Dr. Harold T. Lewis

SERMON PREACHED BY THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR
CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA
AT THE ORDINATION OF DEACONS
HELD IN THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF ST. JOHN IN-THE-WILDERNESS
DENVER, COLORADO
SATURDAY 10 JUNE 2006


"For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Christ's sake." (II Corinthians 4:5)

As I mount this pulpit this morning, I am feeling rather old. I am so old that my ordination predates the revision of the Prayer Book, the ordination of women, and, blessedly, the creation of both the commission on ministry and the GOEs! I am so old that I was ordained by Bill Frey in his previous incarnation as bishop of Guatemala before he assumed the helm of this diocese. And I am reminded that more than three decades have passed since the said Bishop Frey dispatched me to Cripple Creek to be a summer supply priest. I am so old that the Episcopal Church has run out of places to have its General Convention. I was present in Denver not only for the 73rd General Convention six years ago but the 66th General Convention 21 years before that! And I remember on both occasions that the General Convention Daily warned Episcopalians that happy hour libations consumed in this mile-high city would have twice the detrimental effect on their equilibrium as drinks at sea-level. And I am so old that I remember when the illustrious dean of this cathedral church was but a mischievous altar boy, clutching an incense boat or holding his daddy's cope at Christ Church, New Haven.

So I am humbled that your bishop has determined that this Neanderthal preacher might possibly have something worthwhile to say to the latest crop of deacons in the Episcopal Church. Indeed, I cannot sing Bishop O'Neill's praises enough. After all, like the hireling in St. John's Gospel, I stole into his fold under cloak of darkness and absconded with one of his prize sheep. He could have had me bound hand and foot and cast into outer darkness --- but instead, he has accorded me a high privilege for which I am most grateful --- of delivering the homiletic offering at this ordination this morning. Greater love hath no man!

As we gather under the protection of Almighty God to set apart and ordain these nine men and women to the sacred order of deacons, I ask that you meditate with me on the fifth verse of the fourth chapter of the second letter of the blessed Apostle Paul to the church at Corinth: "For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Christ's sake." There is probably no more succinct description of the ordained ministry anywhere in the New Testament. Paul makes it abundantly clear what ministry is and what it is not. He questions the motives of the self-serving Judaizers who vaunted their superior apostolic credentials and who made unreasonable demands on the community. Instead, he presents a model of servanthood, picking up on a theme presented earlier in the epistle (1:24) where he writes: "We do not lord it over your faith, rather we are co-workers with your joy." He stresses the point that he and every other minister of the Gospel is but an instrument, a conduit, a channel, if you will, whose sole responsibility is to ensure that the people of God are brought into a closer relationship with Jesus, a relationship characterized by joy. It seems that our current debate over who is orthodox and who is not reduces the faith to a theological argument, devoid of joy. If the deacons ordained today do nothing more than restore a sense of joy to the people of God, they will have accomplished a great deal.

Paul's role model and exemplar is Jesus Christ, whose selfless dedication to the service of others ultimately manifested itself in his willingness to die for them. This, to Paul, is the standard of authentic behavior on the part of those who would follow Jesus and minister in his name. This is so powerful a statement, Paul maintains, that it will speak for itself. This is why he could proclaim: "The word I spoke, the gospel I proclaimed, did not sway you with subtle arguments; it carried conviction by spiritual power, so that your faith might be built not upon human wisdom but upon the power of God" (I Cor. 2:4). What emerges from all this is that the most radical aspect of Paul's theology of ministry is that he understands himself to be not only Jesus, servant, but the servant --- indeed the slave --- of the people to whom he brought the Gospel message.

My sisters and brothers in Christ, it can certainly be argued that the idea of servanthood is all but absent from our understanding of, and indeed the exercise of the ordained ministry today. In our church, the clergy get to wear pretty clothes, are accorded a variety of arcane titles of honor and respect, and we make weekly pronouncements from pulpits which have been described as "six feet above contradiction." Even the diaconate, by definition a servant ministry, has been called by at least one book "a full and equal order, and our church hastily moved to change the canons to make it possible for deacons, as well as presbyters, to serve on the councils of the church."

But a deeper concern is that, Paul's advice notwithstanding, there is ample evidence that we do indeed "preach ourselves." Many a clergyperson fully believes "it's all about me." Far too numerous are the reverend clergy who confuse the pulpit with the therapist's couch, and who have absolutely no compunction about baring their souls in the guise of a sermon. The faithful, in turn, with problems of their own, either tune out or walk out, believing that the Sunday paper can be more edifying than Scripture, and that a double latte at Starbuck's might provide more spiritual nourishment than holy communion. One problem is that we find it difficult just being faithful members of the clergy. The polarization all too evident in our church forces us to identify ourselves as gay or straight, female or male, black or white, conservative or liberal.

What is more, our seminaries often seem to be places where there is less concern about what we used to call "priestly formation" and more concern about providing laboratories where students may work out or work through personal issues of one kind or another. Seminary students, too, often feel they must have a "cause other than that of learning how to be a priest." I have encountered, for example, future clergy who believe that the most burning issue facing the church today is the need for inclusive language, and who are genuinely surprised when they discover that their parishioners' hearts are burning instead with a desire to hear the Gospel. Many Christmases ago, I was struggling with what to preach about at midnight mass. My mother-in-law, of blessed memory, was staying with us and I asked her what I should say in my sermon. Her advice was simple: Quoting from an old Methodist hymn, she said, "Harold, tell them the old, old story of Jesus and his love." My friends, the people of God, who come in their brokenness to our altars week by week, need to know that Jesus loves them, need to know that "earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal." They are literally dying to know that there is indeed a balm in Gilead!

Are we doing a good job? Are we equal to the task? An article in the current issue of Anglican and Episcopal History, entitled "Bonfire of the Sacristies: To the 2006 General Convention" points out that there are two official publications in the Episcopal Church. One is widely known. It is called Episcopal Life. It contains stories about mission trips to Honduras, articles about the Presiding Bishop's wife in her role as roving ambassador, and photographs of diocesan acolyte festivals. It is an upbeat publication, and like most house organs, paints the most salubrious picture possible of the organization. The lesser known publication is the Episcopal Church Annual, a.k.a. "The Red Book," which is merely a compendium of raw data about the Episcopal Church. I leafed through the 2006 edition recently, and came upon a table of statistics. It tells us that in 2005, there were decreases in baptisms, confirmations, marriages, communicant members, and the number of parishes and missions. In which category was the only increase recorded? In the number of clergy! What is wrong with this picture? Why are we ordaining more and more clergy for fewer congregations and fewer parishioners? I don,t know. Could it be that we "preach ourselves to such an extent that we seek positions that do more to suit our personal needs than to serve the people of God? Is our Hebrew so rusty that we translate Isaiah's "Here I am, send me" as "Here I am, and this is where I am willing to go"?

I don't know the answer to these questions, but I do know this. When I was ordained 35 years ago, the assumption was that we would be sent out to maintain large flourishing parishes full of people We labored under the assumption that everybody with good sense, and certainly everybody with good taste, would beat a path to the doors of the Episcopal Church. Now we face a situation in which people are apparently beating a path to the exit doors. The more we "preach ourselves" as we obsess over matters of liturgy, gender and sexuality, the more we have navel-gazed, the less energy we have to preach Jesus Christ.

Our foes do indeed press on from every side. In addition to the threat of neo-fundamentalism in high places, our church is engaged in unprecedented internecine warfare. And make no mistake. Battle lines are being drawn even now in preparation for the General Convention next week. The broad tent of Anglicanism is fast becoming history, as many groups claim that they alone are entitled to the shelter it provides, while others are being subjected to the elements. What this means is that the job description of the ordained minister has radically changed. He or she must now be willing, with Jeremiah, to "build up and to plant," and sometimes, like the slaves in Egypt, even to make bricks without straw.

My friends, the reason that the Bible is the all-time best seller is that it continues to speak to our current situation in every age. The situation in which we find ourselves is not new. Paul was constantly faced with discouragement in his ministry, but he found encouragement in two things: the character of his ministry and the mercy of God. Paul understood his ministry as something received not because of his own merit but on account of God's favor. When I was 14, a priest, one of the curates in my home parish in Brooklyn, New York, approached me, and he apparently had read Second Corinthians. He suggested that I consider becoming a priest. I laughed out loud and said "Father, I am not cut out for that type of thing." He responded "Harold, God doesn't choose the worthy, he makes worthy those whom he chooses." I said to myself, "Not a bad line," and the rest, as they say, is history.

Paul believed, too, that God's entrusting the ministry to him was like putting a great treasure in an ordinary clay pot. This is why he could write to the Corinthians, "Since through God's mercy, we have this ministry, we do not lose heart." Paul had to minister in a city known for its depravity; he had to contend with those who distorted the message of the Gospel to suit their own ends. Nevertheless he could say, "We are afflicted but not crushed; we are at a loss but not completely baffled; we are persecuted but not deserted; we are struck down but we are not destroyed." (II Cor. 4:8). The deacons ordained today would do well to follow Paul's blessed example --- not losing heart; knowing who they are and Whose they are, and restoring a sense of joy to the people of God committed to their charge.

Now the rest of what I have to say is intended for the ordinands, but the rest of you may eavesdrop if you like. My sisters and brothers in Christ, I would like to offer a prayer for you as you begin your diaconal ministry. It is the postcommunion collect for the ordination of deacons from the 1928 Prayer Book:

Almighty God, giver of all good things, who of thy great goodness hast vouchsafed to accept and take these thy servants unto the office of deacon in thy Church; make them, we beseech thee, O Lord, to be modest, humble and constant in their ministrations, to have a ready will to observe all spiritual discipline; that they, having always the testimony of a good conscience, and continuing ever stable and strong in thy Son Christ, may so behave themselves in this inferior office, that they may be found worthy to be called unto the higher ministries of thy Church.

Behave yourselves as you seek to exercise diaconal humility throughout your ministry. I cannot resist telling the story of the diocese in which it was the custom for the deacons to clear the tables after the diocesan convention dinner. So at the end of the dinner, the bishop made the accustomed announcement: "The deacons will now clear the tables." One erudite young deacon, an honors graduate of his seminary, asked to be recognized, and said, "Bishop, according to my understanding of holy orders, they are cumulative. When one is ordained priest, he is a deacon and a priest, and when one is consecrated bishop, that person is a deacon, a priest, and a bishop. So it seems to me that you, too, are a deacon, and therefore you should help clear the tables." Without batting an eyelash, the bishop responded, "Your point is well taken, Mr. Jones, so we shall change our announcement. Those who are only deacons will clear the tables."

Behave yourselves as you undertake a disciplined life of prayer.

Behave yourselves as your undertake a lifelong disciplined study of Holy Scripture.

Behave yourselves. Be true to your integrity. Do not be easily swayed by the ever-present temptation to be popular. Do not be bought, either subtly or not so subtly. Remember that even when in authority, you are men and women under authority, and that you must ultimately be responsible to Jesus Christ, the author and finisher of the faith, and the bishop and guardian of your souls.

Behave yourselves as your attempt to restore a sense of joy to a church that runs the risk of missing the Kingdom's goal, as it insists on majoring in the minors.

Finally, behave yourselves as you seek to preach not yourselves but Christ Jesus as Lord, and yourselves as servants for Christ's sake.

And now may God who has given you a will to do all these things, give you the grace and power to perform them, +In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.