The State of the Parish
Isaiah 49:1-7 Mark 1:14-20
January 23, 2000
In 1789, when Thomas Jefferson was ambassador to France, he wrote this description of King Louis XVI: “In normal times, he would undoubtedly make an amiable and acceptable monarch. Unfortunately, his ancestors bequeathed him a revolution.”
We, too, have been bequeathed a revolution. In normal times – fifty, thirty, even ten years ago – we would not be using a term like revolution. We might have spoken of changing times, rethinking our priorities, and making some adjustments, but that isn’t good enough today.
On one hand, in a perverse way, I’m grateful for the county’s condemnation move. Without their actions, we may not have been ~aware of our being in the midst of a revolution.
The revolution has been sneaking up on us. It’s been gradual, subtle, and many of us have been unconscious of the extent to which life has changed. Preachers have told us that the church is no longer a mainline part of the culture, but it takes what happened a few weeks ago for us to realize what a sideline part of contemporary society we have become.
Make no mistake, the church has always stood over against the power structure. We’ve always maintained that beauty and the sense of the holy take precedent over mere economics and so-called practical considerations. We’ve proclaimed that holy ground is worth more than highways. And we’ve tended to take for granted that the
majority of people believed the way we did. Well, we’ve had a wake-up call. We’re coming to the realization that we’ve been living in a stained glass cocoon. All around us, times have been changing. We just didn’t realize it.
Now don’t misunderstand me. The River Road controversy is not the revolution. In a sense, this is simply a minor skirmish, a symbolic brush between those who would be blind to sacred places and a small minority who say a church plaza is more important than a bank and worth a lot more.
We are still learning as a parish how to organize for a revolution and what it’s all about. We haven’t even been able to identify all the forces set against us. In the days ahead, we’ll probably make many mistakes. But here are some suggestions regarding the nature of the revolution and how we, as a parish, might act in these times of rapid change.
First, we must learn to care for each other better. This isn’t as easy as it might seem, since much of what we imagined the parish to be isn’t really there anymore. Let me just give you one example. The church, our community, is no longer a family-based institution. We say to the world that we are 1,500 families, and we assume the family is the backbone of the parish structure. The truth of the matter, for many, is that the family is not there. Family, in the traditional sense, is not part of many people’s experience. Dysfunctions, divorce, relocation, people choosing the single life, and new types of loving relationships all contribute to this being a brand new world. The concept of the nuclear family (wife, husband, two children) is no longer what we find. Therefore, as a friend of mine has said, “Now we have to learn to be a family instead of saying we have families.” We have to learn to practice a new kind of hospitality, to welcome people in new ways, to bear one another’s burdens in this new millennium. Last week, John called on us to be the village that raises the child. How do we do this in a culture that is less family-oriented, in a society that is not even certain what constitutes a recognizable family?
How we do this is one of the challenges facing this parish.
The second thing we have to begin doing is to see ourselves in a different light. We have to understand that we are all called. God has a special purpose for us, an expectation for each one of us. You are, in the words of Isaiah, “to be a polished arrow,” something special for God. God has set each one of us aside while we were still in the womb.
We live in a culture that gives a very clear message – “people don’t matter” – only the bottom line matters, and part of the revolution is that we have to refute that message. People do matter, for each of us has a calling. We have been chosen to make a difference in this world of ours. We have been chosen to be a beacon of compassion and caring in a world that doesn’t give a damn for anything that doesn’t benefit its own special interests.
The big problem is that we’ve taken this calling, this vocation, for granted. Isaiah talks about assuming tasks that are just too small for those who are called out. God has bigger things in mind than simply carrying on business as usual. Isaiah reminds his hearers that they are in the midst of a revolution, and that the stakes are higher than we might imagine.
The Jewish people in the Bible thought they were living in fairly settled times; therefore, they thought all that God wanted of them was to look after themselves, be happy, and stay out of trouble. That might have been good advice from your parents when you went out on a date. Unfortunately, Isaiah tells them it doesn’t fit with these circumstances. It’s too small, too insignificant, too pedestrian, too safety-oriented a position. The people of Israel were called to be different, odd, special, to challenge the powers that be, to stand for some things that might not be popular, and to seek God’s way in a culture that seeks the easy way.
And so are we. I am convinced God is challenging each of us to rethink who we are and what we might do as we seek to be God’s family, God’s people in a hostile or indifferent environment. The next few days and, few months aren’t going to be smooth sailing. We’re going to be called to make some real sacrifices. We’re going to be led beyond our comfort zones. This next year is going to be a year of great change. It’s no small thing that each of us will be called to do. In normal times, we would probably have sat back and been amicable. Unfortunately, we have been bequeathed a revolution. God willing, we can respond appropriately.
Amen