PROPERS: FIFTH
SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY, YEAR B
TEXT: 1 CORINTHIANS 9:16-23
PREACHED AT ST.
PAUL’S, MAGNOLIA SPRINGS, ON SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 2018 – MY LAST SUNDAY AS
INTERIM RECTOR.
ONE SENTENCE: The Holy Spirit moves through a wide variety of people,
viewpoints and experiences; we would be wise to value each.
Several years ago, I was on a
national faculty team for clergy renewal.
The program was named CREDO, for Clergy, Renewal, Education and
Development Opportunity.
I began as a member of a team led by
a very wise, gifted, senior priest named Ron Crocker, from the Diocese of
Virginia.
Our faculty team of eight would meet
with some 30 participants at various diocesan retreat centers for eight days at
a time. Faculty members, including myself, would make presentations aimed at
provoking reflection and insight by the participants. There was small group time, social time, and
time for individual reflection. There
was also worship time, with services scheduled three times each day.
As each retreat week ended, our
leader, Ron, would offer his concluding meditation. It was always had the same
theme: “Good-bye. I love you.”
Ron was expressing his thanks to the
participants who had prepared for and come to the conference, and shared deeply
of themselves and their individual journeys.
He was thanking them for offering themselves to Christ’s ministry and
for sharing so richly with the assembled group.
And he was expressing his gratitude,
affection, and even love for them. It
was a poignant way to say good-bye.
+ + +
I understand more fully Ron’s
sentiments as I stand here today – my last day as interim rector of St. Paul’,
Magnolia Springs. In fact, my last day as an interim anywhere.
When I came here last June, at the
invitation of Maybelle Godwin, Chip Groner and Johnny Cooks, I was unsure of my
pastoral and parochial sealegs. I had
just retired after sixteen years as Canon to the Ordinary in the Diocese of
Mississippi. But that was wholesale ministry, and not retail ministry.
And there was more to it. During my last year as the Bishop’s
assistant, I helped guide an extremely
painful and difficult clergy discipline case, and sought to resolve two
highly-inflamed parish conflicts. All of
this was very intense and close to home. One of the parish conflicts was
resolved very poorly and led to a very dear friend going to another diocese.
I was like the old horse that had
been rode hard and put up wet. I was
done.
It had been sixteen long years since
I had served a parish – something I loved and was had been adequately prepared
for. But that had been a long time ago,
and I had counted a lot of beans since that time.
So here I came to this beautiful
little chapel in South Alabama’s equivalent of Mayberry RFD. There were some challenges, to be sure, but I
was also mindful of the Hippocratic oath: “First,
do no harm.”
I may have told you that when I
first became Rector of Church of the Resurrection in Starkville, Mississippi,
my family and friends were greatly amused that this red and blue-to-the-core Ole Miss Rebel had been called to serve in
the town where Mississippi State was located.
I understood their amusement, but
there was a more profound theological point to be made. And St. Paul makes it
today in the second lesson:
“For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a
slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew,
in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law
(though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law.
To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free
from God's law but am under Christ's law) so that I might win those outside the
law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all
things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the
sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.”
+ + +
You have been an easy
lot to save. It has been a joy to work
side-by-side with you and witness the various ministries you have so freely
undertaken and carried out on your own.
A guiding principle I have had is, stay
out of the way.
But
there is an additional lesson I have learned.
I am told that an airplane is more gently guided by a light hand on the
controls – that a tight grip can lead to a rough flight. Perhaps Chip Groner can verify that metaphor.
It
is a metaphor, though, that I have learned with some value here. These
past eight months have been freeing – in the sense that St. Paul expressed in
the passage today. I have been free
to be myself.
I have learned what
55-gallon drums are filled with. I have
learned important lessons about inspecting pepper flakes. I have had the opportunity to relate to you
in your various places, to share your stories and experiences, to laugh and
pray with you, because we are all freed
in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
I guess that freedom that I felt
reached its apex when I dressed as Lord
Canterbury for the Madrigal Dinner. It was then that I knew I had thrown
all caution to the wind. The picture of that outfit, posted by Nora, still gets
humorous comments on my FaceBook
page.
And I mention Nora. It is very important to me that my wife have
a hospitable place to worship. I
frequently take my read of a congregation from her perceptions. St. Paul’s has been warm and comfortable for her. John has welcomed her into the choir. For the first time in many years, we have
felt at home.
The warmth of this congregation is
representative of a lesson that is much larger, and a lesson that I would
commend to your new rector: First, love the people. You can do much more good with the
people than working against them.
A combined wish and direction I have
for you in the days ahead: Continue to be the people of God. Do not resort to being a clique. Continue welcoming strangers. Minister to
those in the community. Let your vision
see beyond these four walls. Continue to
worship God, giving of your time, talent and treasure.
Thank you ever so much.
As my friend Ron Crocker would say: Good-bye. I love you.
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