Archives: sermon library

Field not found.

  • Go Tell the Message
    Mark 16: 1-6
    April 3, 1988
    Walking into a room used by another group can be a learning experience. Several months ago, I went into a room recently vacated by a divorce recovery group. There on the blackboard was written, if you always do what you always did, you always get what you always got. Reading those words, I thought, that’s right. That is the basic problem of life.
    Most of us, most of the time, always do what we’ve always done, and that’s our dilemma. Our lives play the same old tune, the same old, the same old nightmare. We make the same old mistakes in the same old way, and our lives are characterized by going round and round in a relentless rhythm, all of which reminds me of a great story I picked up in New England. It was about two old codgers who went hunting for moose in the forest surrounding Moosehead lake in the northwest part of Maine. As the pilot of the small seaplane let them off on the Lakeshore, he reminded them, like I said, I’ll be back in three days. But remember, this is a tiny plane. There’s only room for the two of you and one small moose.
    Three days later, when the pilot returned and taxied to the shore, he was irritated to see between the two old boys not one, but 2 moose. Huge ones at that. Look, he said, I told you, the two of you and 1 moose. The old timers looked at each other in surprise and answered, funny. That fellow last year didn’t complain. The fear of this competition proved greater than all the other fears, and the pilot relented. Grumbling, he helped them put both moose into the little plane. The plane took forever to get off the lake, barely clearing the trees on the far shore. About 1/4 of a mile further on, it clipped a high pine and crashed, sending pieces of wings and moose antlers in all directions. Finally, one of the old codgers came to, pulled his hat out of the wreckage, spied his companion a short way off and asked, where are we? His friend replied, Ohh, about 100 yards further than last year.
    If you always do what you always did, you’ll always get what you always got.
    I wonder if many of us here are more than 100 yards further than we were last year. If the world is much different this Easter than it was last year. I wonder if there is any less war or rumor of war, any less starvation or homelessness, this year than there was last year. It’s discouraging, debilitating, disheartening to feel that life hasn’t changed much and progress is so darn elusive. What wait. Consider the Easter message, the message which declares that within the same old story, something new can break through.
    Welcome happy morning signals the dawn of a new age.
    The problem is that for many people, the signals get missed. They come to church and get hung up worrying about the truth of the Easter story. The details become overly important, and suddenly they become fundamentalists overnight.
    but put all that aside. You’re not here to worry about open tombs and stones that get moved. The early church never worried about those issues. They declared that after Easter, people were unable to change their way of doing life. Promise making, promise breaking Peter that fearful fellow we remembered on Good Friday, suddenly after Easter was so caught up with the faith that he became a giant.
    Had there been no resurrection of Christ, there would have been no gospel, no epistles, no New Testament, no Christian Church. This very Church of yours is the living, breathing truth that new life is possible, for without Jesus Christ, the power and the love of God rising, none of us would be here this morning.
    So, good people, this is not a day of argument about dead carpenters getting up and walking around. Still less is it a day of speculation about miracles, which have a tendency to become a sort of spectator sport. What is important today is that the resurrection is an event that promises the possibility of newness now. The resurrection says, demonstrates, underscores that you don’t always have to do what you’ve always done. God changes all that. The first Easter is assigned a new way of doing life
    but still we ask, is this a real possibility for me? Can I receive this promise, or am I stuck with the old self? And then we would ask, Are you ready to receive this promise? Are you prepared to seek it? Are you ready to affirm it when you sense its presence? Are you ready to join others in declaring the possibility? The command from our gospel is really very simple. Go tell, share the good news, and it will become good news for you
    now I recognize it is very hard to share this message, even on Easter day. Hard because in some way, we are almost embarrassed by the message of new life. Hard because we would have to relinquish our tired skepticism, our faded cynicism, our business as usual attitude. Hard because we would have to share the secret and then live the secret.
    Many of us cannot tell about the secret because it has never actually appeared in our experience. But we cannot hide the possibility of new life because we are constantly hearing suggestions of it. And then he goes on to say, do you think I am trying to weave a spell by talking to you of the secret? Perhaps I am, but remember your fairy tales. Spells are used for breaking enchantments as well As for inducing them.
    Good people, in this culture, in this society, we need to break the spell. That terrible spell of the endless pattern of life to death period of the empty round of changeless lives of just more than the same. We need to feel like Easter people. The message today is not simple. The message is of radical, revolutionary, reordering of reality. In order to hear it, you have to open up a window into your own soul. Into the way you have always believed in the world. You have to listen to the secret of a new life and then you have to share it.
    So for heaven’s sake, let’s tell the world the good news. Go tell ! is our command from God. Go tell of the possibility of becoming new people go tell of the amazing possibility of beginning again. Go tell the death and taxes are not the only firm realities. Go tell that there is also the reality of new life that beckons us from beyond the grave. Go tell that he is risen, and that we can rise, with him. Go tell them we can be Easter people and live amongst eastern people. What a message. What a hope. What a possibility, Hallelujah

  • State of the Parish
    January 21, 1996
    One of my all-time favorite movies was Dead Poets Society.
    In the movie, there is an outstanding scene where Robin Williams tries to have his teenage students explore the world outside of themselves. He takes his class into the foyer of the gym, where they look at old photos of former students – now dead and gone. Standing with them, Williams tells his students one thing – one fact of life. All will die, including them. All will die.
    And because of that inescapable fact, he presents them with a quick Latin lesson. He says to them, “Carpe Diem,” which he tells them means: “Seize the Day.” Then he has the students lean close to the ancient photos, and as they do, he whispers to them as if from the grave: “Carpe Diem. Carpe Diem.”
    I want to use Robin Williams’ words as the focus for this sermon. I am doing this, for I believe that God is calling St. Philip’s to “seize the day;” Carpe Diem. We are in a unique position. We are at the end of one chapter and at the beginning of another – a chapter that moves us into the year 2001, where God calls us to build for future generations.
    Now let me be perfectly honest. I have been here with you for 19 years… and together, we have had our good times and bad times. By and large, things are going well – very well. There’s a good spirit and a few large problems. We’ve even managed to convince ourselves that the overcrowding in the Sunday school, and lack of parking, the tight quarters for staff, and the absence of enough rooms for adult classes are really blessings in disguise. They are reminders of our popularity. So this past year, I’ve been saying to myself: ‘Why not make this last chapter, this next five years, a peaceful one? Why not be remembered as the rector who was hard-driving, making great changes at the beginning, but ending up smiling, beloved, managing with a light touch – this great person? Why not??’
    Unfortunately, we’re not called to sit back and relax and slowly pass into retirement. Unfortunately, God has plans for us. Somehow, God is saying to each of us: ‘You can’t settle for the past. Those who follow me must follow me into the future. They must be willing to live in chaotic times.” The word for this next Chapter in our life together doesn’t come from Ann Landers, who might say: “Enjoy, go with the flow.” Instead, it comes from a writer like the Hispanic, Unamuno, who wrote: “Que Dios, no nos paz, y si gloria.” ‘May God deny us peace, but give us glory.”
    Ah, there’s the rub. We want peace and not glory. For some, it’s peace at any price. Even if we have to ignore God’s call to us. For some, peace means settling down and enjoying what we have worked so hard to accomplish. For some, peace means letting the future take care of itself.
    Several years ago I heard a talk by a European statesman. I don’t recall the topic, but there was one point he made that hit a responsive chord, and I wrote it down on the back of an envelope. He said: ‘Do you know the difference between a politician and a diplomat? A politician tries to work things out now. He asks the question: What’s in it for me?’ And then, hopefully, he concerns himself with his constituency. A diplomat builds for the future. He asks the question: What kind of a legacy am I leaving for future generations?’” I am convinced that God is looking for spiritual diplomats. There are already enough church politicians.
    And yet . . . and yet . . . the arguments of the church politicians are so very tempting. “Can’t we postpone? What’s the urgency? Let’s wait until a more propitious time. Maybe we can leave the work for someone else.”
    Unfortunately, our sooner or later often adds up to never. The deepest tragedies of life are not the foolish things we do. They are not even the failures we often have. The deepest tragedy is not to be willing to risk, to take a chance, to move out on God’s call.
    There is a wonderful line from an old play, The Music Man, where the band director turns to the prissy, conservative spinster librarian, and says: ‘Keep putting off till tomorrow what can be done today and you’ll soon find your life has been nothing but a collection of empty yesterdays.” Seize the day, St. Philippians, seize the day.
    Good people, I am asking you to listen closely to God’s call to us. To not put off till tomorrow what can and must be done today. The challenge facing us is whether we will be comfortable and simply settle for enjoying what we have, or become mature and begin to contemplate leaving a legacy.
    Remember, remember, to be young is to study in schools that you did not build. To be mature is to build schools in which you will not study. To be young is to sit under trees you did. not plant. To be mature is to plant trees under which you will not sit.
    To be young is to benefit from a church you did not make. To be mature is to build on to a church from which you might not benefit.
    Good people, St. Philippians – God is calling us to act maturely, to leave a legacy, to begin building the next chapter.
    Carpe Diem . . . Carpe Diem . . .
    AMEN.

  • Final Sermon at St Philips
    Deuteronomy 3 & 31
    January 21, 2001
    Let us pray:
    It takes a while to and your way
    among all the ways of work,
    and I suppose a man is never sure.
    Take me for example.
    I might have taught grammar to freshmen,
    history to the cataloging mind,
    or journalism to young William Allen Whites.
    I considered medicine,
    thought of suturing my way across the ripped and torn pieces of humanity
    who bleeds out life
    on the bucket seats of our auto world.
    I even thought of insurance
    as a way to save whole families
    of widows and orphans.
    I could have bought it the world with a credit card
    saved the world with green stamps,
    given the world away with gift certificates.
    I would have sold almost anything.
    But,
    You called me to be a pastor,
    And here I sit among people –
    pushing prayers,
    swapping jokes,
    trading self-esteem for longevity.
    Begging for building funds,
    rustling a Catholic now and then,
    hawking the urban problem.
    Picking pockets with cornmircee posts,
    pirating among the open pulpits,
    auctioning God to the lowest bidder.
    Lord, just exactly what was it you had in mind
    when we talked so long ago?
    Would you please go over chat just one more life? Slowly.
    Amen
    God shows him the Promised Land, and tells him, “You are not going to @ there, for your time is done.” if Moses were anything like me, he probably would begin to argue. “After all,” he might have said, “We walked for forty/ years without our feet hurting. We found new ways of sharing leadership. We learned about you through those tablets of commandments. You brought about all those wonderful miracles. So why do I only get a glimpse, a hint of what is to come? Why not more?”
    When exits and entrances appear in our lives, we often miss the small miracles that come with chosen times. We usually want to hold on tight to the familiar; we want more. But the truth is that a door shuts, and another opens, you say goodbye to some things, and find you’re saying hello to others; a baby is born,- a child becomes an adult, an old person dies, a man retires. One leaves a room, and another enters. The realism about when we say, “Yes” to God and allow ourselves to step into the future. For God is at the beginnings and endings.
    Going back to the story of Moses’ final days, we recall that God makes sure that he will pass on his leadership role to a younger person. We’re not told much about that conversation, but I believe it might have gone something like this: “Moses,” God must have said, “You have led these people for a long time. You have tried as best you could to meet their demands. You have fought the good fight, but now it’s time for some new blood. I do this so that your people will not be overly dependent upon one person for their future
    That’s an important conversation for all who lead and all who follow God’s way. It’s important for me to underscore this as our relationship of rea# and parish comes to a close.
    It’s been a wonderful experience for the past twenty-GBPhree years to share my ministry with you. I am also very aware that you can do it very well without me. You have the gift of reaching out to God and each other on your own.
    Forgive me, when I blocked your access to God, stepped in when you could have ministered on your own, encouraged dependence on a round collar. Made God seem so complicated that one needed a Seminary education to approach the source of hope and faith. Forgive me.
    I suppose Moses could have voiced such a prayer. You will recall the story behind the first lesson. Moses had been wandering forty years in the wilderness. And, now that he was becoming a little long in the tooth, God tells him it is time to say goodbye. Can’t you just imagine, Moses, standing with a pained expression, saying, “God, just exactly what did you have in mind when we spoke so long ago?
    These past few weeks, I’ve had that Moses feeling. I’ve thought back to the forty-plus years of wandering in the wilderness of ministry. Sometimes barely surviving, hanging on by my fingertips, listening to the murmuring of parishioners, and then, as I became long in the tooth, preparing to say Goodbye
    Goodbyes are never easy. It wasn’t so for Moses, and it certainly hasn’t been for me. Letting go, losing one’s grip, and preparing to exit is hard work.
    You have to be willing to say goodbye to some things in order to say hello to others. you have co look for God within the exits.
    But, let us return to Moses, whom we left standing on the mountaintop_ He has led the small band of Hebrews for some forty years, through hard times and times when God seemed very close. But, there were also periods in Moses’ story where he must have pulled back and said, “This isn’t what my mother had in mind when she left me to be brought up by the Pharaoh’s daughter. I could have made a pretty good administrator back in Egypt. I’m a big-city person, not an outward-bound type.
    This past year, I’ve discovered through his writings a fascinating Rabbi named Lawrence Kushner. Kushner reminded me that God has assigned each one of us a certain role, and it’s the only one we are going to get. “Sometimes we don’t like our plans,” he said. “We wish we were someone else.” I can certainly identify with those words. I, for instance, always wanted to be a professional tennis player. My mother wanted me to be a bishop.
    But God said, ” Sorry those parts have already been taken by Pete Samoras and Robert Shahan. You’ve got to be a Rector in a small city in Arizona- That’s the one part we’ve got for yoy. You want it or not?”
    Looking once again at Moses as he encounters God in his last days I sometimes have acted and felt like the Priest in Leonard Bernstein’s Mass, which I saw at the Lincoln Center many years ago. The priest took on more and more of the burdens of his people. He became the oracle of his community. This was symbolically acted out by the piling on of layer after layer of vestments. Finally, in the last scene, he slowly takes off his vestments, thus symbolizing that he no longer will assume the expectation, the demands, which make people so dependent on him. When all the vestments are dropped, the Priest is revealed as just a GBPlawed, vulnerable human being like the rest of us.
    The ending is one of the most beautiful elements in contemporary theater. The Priest, who is now on stage as just an ordinary person, is brought to life by the singing and touch of a child. Then the child takes the hand of another adult who comes on, singing of a new day ahead. The Promised Land is glimpsed as the audience and actors join hands.
    So Now I can capture the mystery of my life and yours – the miracle of ministry that comes about as we join hands. In this is the beginning and ending/fan our searching for God.
    e.e. Cummings sums up Idlife, as well as Moses’, with the words,
    “With you, I leave a remembrance of miracles.” I leave you with the remembrance that we have touched over the years. Sometimes our touch has been light and subtle. Sometimes gs it’s been a reaching out across a chasm of disagreements. And, sometimes, it’s been a lover’s touch that bridges the gap, for a second, between separated people.
    But, the miracle is that we have touched: in deaths and births, in good times, and sad times, in tears and in laughter. We have touched.
    And so, I leave you with the remembrance of small miracles. I leave you with sadness and gratitude for those moments together that we have glimpsed the Promised Land. And I leave you with the knowledge that God is not finished with us yet
    ” Lord, just exactly what was it you had in mind when we talked so long ago. Would you please go over that- just one more life
    Amen

  • “State of the Parish Address”
    January 19, 1992
    This summer, Lyle Shaller, one of the most respected writers and consultants on church life, asked if I would write a chapter for a book he was editing on the city church, aa told me much has been written on the demise of the urban church. He wanted to bring a book out on successful city parishes, which were painting the way toward a new reformation of the church in America . I was thrilled that Saint Philip’s was chosen, and if we’ve been working, with a lot of help from Bobbie Justice, for the last six months on the chapter. It’s not my intent to recount what’s in the chapter – buy the book – but / do want to start this State of the Parish address with the last line, it comes from one of thirty interviews. This was from Don Baker :
    “Over the years, what changes have taken place at Saint Philip’s, yet there never has been a t IIne when we settled back and felt that we have “arrived” We have a strong sense of our imperfections and a vision that the best days lie ahead. ”
    Thank you, Don . We haven’t arrived, but we did accomplish some great things for the Kingdom, and I want to share some of them with you. Probably the greatest miracle is that anything happened. In a year where he only had 50% clergy staff – two clergy – this has meant a tremendous extra burden on Paul ; and the only reason we haven’t both been carted off to the hospital has been the support of Hiriam and the rest of the staff, as well as the help from the ” non-sti pes” and clergy in residence, Thank you Peter, Brook, Bob and Jeanette, Henry, Russell, Manny , Keith , and Jack
    Somehow, God seems to provide, even when things are most difficult. I have been trying, over the past year, to find the right people for the clergy team. We’ve looked at about thirty-five people and brought six to Tucson. The search committee and staff found four unacceptable, and two turned them down. Right now I’ve got three candidates in the pipeline. Financial constraints are pushing us into choosing one person for two positions. It makes it more difficult, bear with me, we’ve done all right in the past.
    Which brings us to Finances. We’ve kept the wolf from the door, thanks to Miriam. We’ve fully paid the Diocese and come out in the black thanks to two factors: <1> our not replacing two clergy and <2> the Development Committee, under Jeff Willis and Henry Sherrill’s consultative work. You’ll hear more when Tom presents the financial report but I do want to thank Paul and the Stewardship Committee. In a year where 20% of the parishes are in deep financial trouble, every member canvas group raised more money than before. We are no where we want to be but by golly we’re not where we were
    Other things that stand out in 91 are the development of a healing component at this Eucharist, the introduction of a new music group at 10:15, the merger of pastoral care and counseling center under Jeanette Reanoffs directorship with Bob as the clergy representative, and the clergy in residence program which has introduced a number of clergy with many gifts into our community life
    One of the constant goals is to increase the effectiveness and levels of communication. I congratulate Bobby Justice and the loaves and fishes group for doing just that. It’s interesting that our national general convention, at the meeting of diocesan and parish editors, the loaves and fishes were cited as an example of excellence.
    Another example of excellence was our recent ordination and confirmation. Gales ordination was the first for Saint sPhilips. The music and liturgy were magnificent. Thank you Judy and Ben.
    One final accomplishment was the growth that took place last lent. We learned that we could disagree and do it agreeably. In a sense, some bonding took place as we openly face conflicts and disagreements.
    I cannot close the list of accomplishments without mentioning the vestry. Their support and encouragement have been invaluable. Special thanks to the six who are retiring Charlotte Ackerman Carl Anderson Jack Moore Norman E Reed and Marilyn Smith. I am continuing with the leadership team of Tom and Tata as rector of warden and parish warden and I am inviting Catherine Lancaster to join the executive committee as warden elect to learn more about the job.
    Have left out two aspects of our parish life which are still in the heroic stage of development and the one new dream which I will present period all of that is the future part of this report.
    Let’s begin this section with finances. This country is in the midst of a serious recession. That’s not news, but what we may be of interest is that churches generally don’t do well in hard times. You take the opposite. I know of a person who did a PhD thesis on this. He showed that attendance, giving commitment could be measured by the stock market. As the Dow went up so did the life of the church as it went down so did the giving and church attendance. With his hypothesis is right we’re in for a big troubles. Unfortunately, Saint Phillips has a reputation for swimming against the tide.
    But I would go further and dig deeper into the financial crunch that many churches will be facing and see how we might avoid this bullet that seems headed for most parishes. I have a hunch the crisis that churches face is not a money crisis it is a crisis of imagination. Most churches cannot imagine that God has a larger and more complete vision for them than what they have. Therefore most parishes succumb to what is. If we’re in depression they become depressed and if they hit hard times they expect to curtail their vision. Saint Phillips over the years, thank God, has learned to dream and I learn to keep pushing the boundaries of its vision
    I think it was Francis Xavier the great Catholic missionary to Asia, who wrote to Rome and said there were two a wash of limitations God would have them give up their small ambitions. Saint philip’s ambitions have never been small and they continue to be growing. The meta church cell group is no small ambition
    a woman who had a serious accident has been nurtured and ministered by herself group as they went to the hospital. I found that members of the cell group had already been there it was nice that I was there but ministry had already taken place the woman knows she is a part of the church another person, undergoing a difficult divorce is able to share her pain with six other people where she feels awkward with any of the clergy. That person knows what grace is all about
    a third couple who just had a had a child comes for baptism, and when they look up there’s the cell group as godparents. Suddenly the baptism is not a private family affair now it is family of God sacrament and we begin to know what I mean to be Christ body that’s what cell groups are about and that’s why it’s my dream that more and more people will find their way into these groups
    one of the underlying principles of the meta church concept is radical decentralization. Ministry doesn’t come from the top down it comes as lay people are empowered to assume their own priesthood this principle has been dramatically underscored in the area of outreach. The work with the Richie school, the mission to outside san Salvador, Casa Maria and ministry to the homeless deep freeze are all doing well but the work of Pima County interfaith council is the one that embodies meta church decentralization empowerment grassroots ministry diversity this is what Saint Phillips is all about
    many of you attended the Ritchie school gathering with the Superintendent of the Tucson Unified School District on March 22nd PCI C will have a great assembly. Over 3000 people will assemble at our mother of sorrows church. Our goal for Saint philip’s representation is to have 100 people won’t you be 1?
    One final ambition, dream, vision is a 1992 that Saint Phillips has been the cathedral of Tucson, and cathedrals have always been a place where ministries who’s taught and taught where dreams are made realities. They never used to be seminaries, people came to cathedrals to learn about ministry for these were places of ministry and spiritual growth
    anyway if St. Philips has to be a cathedral there is one important dimension that we have downplayed increasingly I’ve come to realize that the whole area of spirituality has been taking a back seat especially our sense of corporate spirituality. Outer growth has replaced inner growth I am convinced that without a deep and abiding dimension of spirituality much of what happens in the parish becomes busy work at work and a flurry of activities that never seem to touch people’s hearts at best
    for this reason, I had commissioned 2 remarkable people to come up with a proposal to raise the level of spirituality in our community after several months and many meetings they’re proposing to start at Saint Phillips a Center for spirituality reconciliation and the sacred arts. This center will enable us to more fully enter into our inner journeys as well as to reach out to the entire Tucson community the center will give a new dimension to education pastoral care outreach and cell groups hopefully it will become a magnet which will attract teachers and students of man’s traditions to share in their journeys. One of the most important aspects of the center would be to offer spiritual guidance to those who desire it as you might guess I am most excited and hopeful about this new venture. I can imagine far reaching consequences and I can envision this center laying a great impact our corporate spirituality
    a lot of things are happening in this parish of ours new exciting innovative stuff and that’s why Lyle schaller asked me to write a chapter for his book look forward to 92 is a year in which several things that have been started will come together and new things will be launched a new reformation is on the horizon. The only constraint is the smallness of our imagination
    it’s good that we should have this parish meeting on the weekend of the anniversary of Martin Luther King’s birth for it was Martin who reminded us that we should take our directions from our dreams not from what he is. He taught the country to say I have a dream and not settle for limitations not to have small ambitions and to thank God all of us hi I think this great parish of ours can and do also green
    Amen

  • “On the taking of the Parish Census”
    January 18, 1991
    Numbers 1: 1-4
    There are people in the pews this morning who are a little bit frustrated. They have wondered why we take ten minutes from our hour to fill out a census. Why bother to ask, “Am I a member What is the need? What special talents, interest or gifts do I have there are even people have gone beyond frustration and I’ve doubtlessly sent to themselves here. We are facing a war in a few short days and the church is concerned with some irrelevant organizational exercise.
    As one who struggles often with anti-institutional feelings as one who frequently questions, the wisdom of church organizations. I invite you to look at the bold sweeping scripture. Much of the Bible deals, explicitly or implicitly with organizations. The gospels are full with the way as Jesus, trains and coaches, the 12 the epistles are really a confirmation of early church, organizational life and the Old Testament and it’s most early books. Tell us how Moses failures and successes, informing the Hebrew drive into a unified people.
    The story of Moses is an interesting one. Soon, after some remarkable religious experiences, the burning bush, the confrontation with pharaoh, the parting of the Red Sea. Moses realize he has to organize the Hebrew people. If Moses had not acted that way, he did, organizing, taking headcounts. Dividing people up and putting them into extended family groups the exodus from Egypt and the wanderings in the desert would have looked more like a mob scene at O’Hare airport during the New Year’s crunch. But, instead because of Moses’s attention to organization, it looks more like a movement of people towards the promised land. The choice for Moses supposed to lead a mob or to build a community and that involved having a census.
    Frequently, I am approached by people who say to me I am religious I believe in God, but I don’t want anything to do with organized religion. I often want to reply. Quotation well what would you prefer organize religion or to come together as a community to pray for peace, and we could do it at home or we could all utter our own prayers and one time which would cause an awful babel . But we at this church our community; therefore, we say our prayer together in communion, and we are no longer strangers, a mob, a crowd. Instead, we are people, a community, a body, and this census helps us to know who we are.
    The next thing a census does is that it allows us to be found. One great problem of large churches like Saint Phillips is that it permits us to be anonymous.
    You can fade into the woodwork and no one will bother you. It’s a large enough that no one will know if you pledge or serve God in any capacity. They’re at least 50% of the people in this way according to last census.
    Good people let me speak as your pastor. Avoid that feeling of moving toward an unlimited at all costs is the work of the devil. The single most devastating act of a Christian is to lose sight of being accountable in ministry. The work of God takes place with people who are accountable, found, responsible because they are known. A sense is merely a vehicle for accomplishing this fact.
    I guess the most well-known census comes at the beginning of St. Luke’s gospel with these words: in those days a decree went out from Cesar Augustus, that the world should be enrolled, and all went out to be enrolled each to his own city. And Joseph went up from Galilee to GD to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, to be enrolled with Mary his betroth who is with child.
    There are those would point out that the enrollment or census was for the sake of taxes. And most census would seem to be for political or economic purposes. Hardly reason to celebrate on a Sunday morning. It’s true, a census can be used for many bad reasons. But as the Catholics often say, and I never tired of repeating abusis non tollit usum Meaning abuse or misuse does not negate right use. So let’s give it a try; let’s take some time and allow this tool for community building to be used. Let’s find out about ourselves so we can be better organized.
    The American Express people were more right than they could ever imagine when they coined the phrase, membership has its privileges. One of the privileges of being a membership in the body of Christ is being known, being counted on, being accountable; in the tool, for this is our census, just as it was in Moses’s time. I have hunch that all of us deep down inside want this privilege of membership.
    Several months ago, Peggy, my wife brought home to read a wonderful book about Chinese American called the Joy luck club. It’s a collection of stories about people whose parents or grandparents were born in China. One of the stories called the Hoon lady, is the recollection of a woman when she was four years old as she and her family celebrated the moon festival.
    On this night, the legend goes you may tell the moon lady your secret, desire or wish, and it will be granted. The reason this is so that on this night, the moon lady, who lives on the moon, meets her husband who lives on the sun. On all of the nights, they pass each other and never meet or communicate, but on this night, they are reunited in honor of this Everyone secret longing can also be fulfilled.
    The woman telling the story remembers being lost and having a feeling of loneliness and fear inside herself; and she also recalls what size asked of the moon lady so many years ago, she said I wish to be found
    Isn’t that it? Doesn’t that express the longing in all of us? We wish to be found, from when we are found we’re in a community. The problem is if you wish to be fine you also have to be willing to be found out. The census is a method of being found out, of being accountable as member One to another. And let me just say in closing that membership, the privilege of membership is a powerful force to overcome loneliness and release spiritual ways that will reach her on the globe.
    This is what we were all about. And so I invite you to exercise the privilege of membership by standing up now, joining hands, and repeating after me a prayer that is a special gesture of peace. May I ask you all to rise and take one other’s hand repeat following after me lying by line the prayer of Saint Francis.
    Lord make me an instrument of your peace. Where there’s hatred, let me sow love. Where there is injury, pardon. Where there is doubt, faith, where there is despair, hope where there is darkness, light, and where there is sadness, joy.
    O Divine master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console. To be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

  • The State of the Parish
    January 17, 1999
    Luke 4: 16-30
    We begin with words read in high school. “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness. It was the epoch of belief. It was the epoch of incredulity. It was the season of light. It was the season of darkness. It was the spring of hope. It was the winter of despair.” And so began , A Tale of Two Cities.
    Charles Dickens wrote of two cities in his time. I would speak of two churches in our day.
    One church finished a capital campaign about ten years ago. At that time, it had many communicants, a large staff, a quality program, and no great problems. The parish was happy, homogenous, and relatively unconflicted. As the years continued, fewer and fewer people supported the parish. After all, it was easy to see there were no real needs. Somehow, the vestry, in its wisdom, always managed to fit its budget to the dwindling pledge figure. As we used to say, they cut the cloth to fit the person or income. Religious downsizing became an art.
    At the same time, the endowment grew, and the plant was kept in excellent shape. Sunny BaI, our People’s Warden, attended this kind of parish six weeks ago, and he reported there were about fifty people at worship. The plant was beautiful, but the spirit had left. His description to me was, “It was deader than a doornail.”
    The second church had also finished a building
    project ten years ago. But, instead of stopping to catch its breath, it went on to hire new staff, introduce new programs, and dream of new exciting goals. Goals beyond what they logically could afford. In the last ten years, there have been tensions and conflicts. Many old-timers were saying that the changes represented fiscal mismanagement. For ten years, this church has been living on the edge. But for ten years, this parish has been doing some wonderful things for God. And now it’s spiritually alive, vibrant, an exciting place that is growing, changing, constantly reinventing itself, and still living on the edge.
    Good people, the tale of two churches is real. Hundreds of parishes have stood at these crossroads, particularly after the completion of a building program. The choice to live on the edge and be alive, or to rest on one’s laurels, preferring comfort to conflict, is what many parishes face. To live or to die, that’s our choice. And that is why today is a significant moment in our journey. We can begin the best of times, or be moving toward the worst of times.
    Don’t misunderstand me. Life is blooming at St_ Philip’s. The energy, creativity, and dedication that we have shown are beyond my wildest dreams. What we have accomplished in the last twelve months is simply outstanding. Way beyond the building of a building, we’ve touched lives, transformed people, and become a beacon of hope to parishes all over the country.
    I am constantly amazed at how we have been able to respond to challenges. This past month, we put out the word that we needed new playground equipment. We tried to package the need around a raffle, but many responded so quickly that even before the raffle was over, we raised the necessary $15,000. Before Christmas, we spoke of a Richey and Mission View outreach project. Suddenly, $10,000 appeared before we had even finished the appeal. This past Spring, I asked you to consider a miracle. We wanted to fund an extra salary for a priest/ organist. In one Sunday, $48,000 came in joyfully. Now that is just amazing. Not the money, but the response this parish makes to Challenges.
    And it is because of these responses that I dare to dream of new initiatives for the coming year. Initiatives in health care and children’s education programs – in partnerships. Initiatives in making this sacred place more open to the community. Initiatives that are going to call for sacrifice and living on the edge. But that’s what the choice is all about. Living on the edge or dying in comfort.
    If you attend the parish meeting (and I hope you will), you will see a very logical, balanced budget. But I want you to hear this, if nothing else. God is not interested in balanced budgets. My task is to unbalance the budget. My task is to challenge us to go for broke in ’99.
    Let me relieve the treasurer. I don’t mean that in a monetary way. Going for broke is a gambling term; I’m primarily talking about taking risks. I’m talking about not letting our income statements determine our vision.
    I’m challenging us here to make some Changes in the way most Episcopal parishes operate. To think of a parish in different terms, to make some bold steps into the year 2000
    I know this is hard for long-time Episcopalians. We are the denomination that stands for the status quo. We want everything to be decent and in order (even our budgets). We hold fast to traditions, whether they are helpful or not. I’m sure you’ve heard the joke about how many Episcopalians it takes to change a light bulb? It takes ten. One to change the bulb, and nine to talk about how good the old one was. But enough of comedy and back to the sermon.
    I chose the fourth chapter of Luke for the Gospel this morning because it seemed to be Jesus’ state of the church speech. It’s where he begins his ministry. It’s where the people who have known him, worked and played with him, are suddenly confronted with Jesus the Revolutionary. Jesus tells them a new day is dawning. The old ways are no longer acceptable. God wants us to reach out to more people than just our own. God calls us to live on the edge. I’d like Episcopalians the people of Nazareth are shocked. They are more than shocked. Horrified. They want to throw Jesus off a Cliff – I sometimes ask myself when, after preaching A sermon, has anybody ever wished to throw me off the pulpit. Maybe I failed the challenge
    well today, in the state of the parish sermon, I would challenge our community challenge us to live on the edge. There are people who will want to relax. “We have just finished the big project” and I would respond, there would be plenty of time to rest in the grave. There are others who will say why change? We are way ahead of most Episcopal churches and I would remind you that God expects more from those who have more. And there are still others who would be convinced that we’re headed for disaster. I would say that we’re headed for heaven. In the weeks and months ahead, your response will decide if 1999 is the beginning of the best or the worst of times for Saint Phillips
    Amen

  • ” The Unholy Power of Pessimism”
    Numbers 13:25-14
    January 15, 1984
    Is the glass half full or half empty?
    The way you answer that question says a lot about how you view life. Are you an optimist or a pessimist? In this day and age / the pessimists far outweigh the optimists. The majority opinion usually says that the glass is half empty.
    Take, for example, the first time in Scripture that we hear about Joshua, the son of Nun: He and Caleb represented the minority. The pessimists of his day were in the majority.
    What happened was that Moses and the Israelites had been wandering in the wilderness for years. They had left Egypt but had not yet settled down. They finally made it to the borders of the Promised Land, and then they sent out some scouts.
    Can’t you just hear them ask the scouts to find out if it’s safe, to see if the natives are friendly? Can’t you just hear someone say, .I don’t see any McDonald’s arches; ” is the land of milk and honey all that God said it would be?” The scouts – or spies, as they are called – go out and soon return with a minority and a majority report.
    The minority report, by Joshua and Caleb, is prophetic – – full of hope, optimistic, which we can translate as a ‘ passion for the possible. It urges the children of Israel to strain forward to that which lies ahead. ‘ By contrast, the majority report is pessimistic. I suppose the pessimists among us might call it ‘pragmatic. It counsels caution and, I would say, reflects the cowardice of those submitting it. It speaks of “giants in the land11, the “long-necked ones, and the key sentence reads : We seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them.
    The story shows that , while optimists like Joshua seek adventure, they are in the minority. Pessimists, the majority, seek safety. There is never a lack of people who line up for caution.
    “We seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers Isn’t this what pessimists can do for us? They can make us feel like failures. If you listen closely to the pessimists, you are going to end up convinced that you are a grasshopper, unable to cope, without the proper resources, able only to regress to childhood, when you were small and helpless.
    Pessimists distort the truth in a clever way. It is not that pessimists exaggerate the ills of the world – that would be difficult given the state the world is in.
    The pessimists ‘ strategy is to underestimate our ability to deal with problems. There
    may have been giants in the land, but what about the Israelites? Had they no resources?~” “We seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers. ”
    So watch out; go back to Egypt.
    A friend of mine once called this the protective strategy of deliberate failure, and it is the stock counsel of pessimists who seek safety.’ ” The response goes like this: You will never lose any money if you think of yourself as poor and therefore don’t invest anything. ” 0r you will never fall on your face if you consider yourself too weak to stick your neck out. ” 0r “you will never stub your toe if you act like a cripple and don’t take the first step outof-doors.
    In therapy, the counselor often asks,
    “What does this attitude or stance do for you? We know what pessimism does for us, don’t we? it keeps us from feeling guilty about not venturing forth.
    We can feel okay about our cowardliness, and we can extol virtues like prudence and caution.
    Predictably, the children of Israel accepted the report of the pessimists, and we read that all the congregation raised a loud cry, and the people wept that night, and all the people of Israel murmured against Moses and Aaron. And later we read that the people were prepared to stone Joshua and Caleb.
    Can you see the impact that a pessimist has? Pessimists have a way of exerting great power in the deliberations of religious groups. Over the past few years, I have noticed that the most powerful and most feared persons are the ones who speak with the voice of pessimism
    I have also noticed that we spend more time and energy trying to mollify and pacify these people than on anything else — and for some good reasons. Instinctively, we have realized that if you put one thoroughgoing pessimist in a whole crowd of optimists, he or she can switch a meeting from being open and hopeful into one characterized by hostility and deflated negativity.
    Next time you are in a church meeting where something difficult is to be decided, watch how the pessimists can frighten people; watch how they can get a whole group to think defensively.
    One final characteristic of pessimists is that they have a way of striking a chord within us that makes us want to go backward You will remember that the whole congregation said after the pessimists report, would that we had died in the land of Egypt! ” And they said to one another, let us choose a captain and go back to Egypt. ” I suppose we could politely call this the back to Egypt hangup. Many religious groups are completely filled with people who cherish this point of view – – tlif only we could go back to those good old days, they say, to the days when Ma Bell looked after us all, to the days when homosexuals stayed in the closet, to the days when the clergy were not so politically active, to the days when congregations were much more docile. There may have been problems in the past– Pharaoh may have been a dictator — but at least we were secure in the known.
    Roberta Flack made a recording a few years ago called” Let Pharaoh Go”. Basically, what the song was about was that it is not difficult to get out of Egypt, but it is hard to get Egypt out of one’s system. Pessimists have a knack for appealing to the past and making us forget the future. We in the Church are moved by memory, but by God’s grace, we are moved even more by hope.
    A few years ago, at the Harvard commencement, Cyrus Vance spoke about our country. He was one of the prophetic voices. I cut out some words from his address; let me share a few:
    History may conclude that ours was a failure not of opportunity but of seeing opportunity. a failure not of resources but of wisdom to use them, a failure not of intellect but of understanding and of will. ”
    And he might have ended by saying: His tory will conclude that we had a failure to listen to optimists and a readiness to go along with the pessimists.
    Well, what does this have to do with -. leadership in the parish? This day of our parish meeting I would declare to you that the road is far, but the future for St Philips is bright. The promised time is ahead. The scouts are back and the Joshuas are saying, ‘t: Enough of this back-to-Egypt talk! ”
    Enough of this murmuring about seeing ourselves as grasshoppers. We, too, can become giants, simply by sticking our necks out, simply by refusing to listen to the siren song of the pessimists, simply by moving ahead on the promises of God instead of pining for the good old days.
    The other night I was reading an old sermon by Ernest Campbell, and at one point, I stood up and cheered. Dr Campbell was saying that, yes, life is rough, times are bad, and things are not going well. However, Ernie said, in the Hebrew-Christian view of life, history is not a series of problems that cry for answers. History is a series of opportunities that cry for Christian leadership.
    The glass is half full, and with God’s help, it will soon be overflowing here at
    St . Philip’s
    Amen

  • Leaving
    January 14, 2001
    I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of Murphy’s Law Simply stated, Murphy’s Law is, “It is easier to get into something than to get out of it.” Examples of this law might be debt. It is easier to incur debt than to get out of it. Or marriage; it’s simpler to say, “I do,” than to get a divorce. Or smoking: It’s no trouble starting, but hard to stop. And so it is with life in a parish. It’s a lot easier to come into a church than to leave it. Murphy’s Law, all over again.
    The late Henry Nouwen, who has taught me so much, once wrote, “that all of us need to cultivate the art of leaving.” But then he admits the task is probably one of the most difficult things we have to learn. Later on, he writes, “It isn’t easy to be articulate about future absences. We must work on and create ways to separate ourselves from people.”
    I suppose that’s why so much of Scripture is concerned with leaving. The last two-thirds of John’s Gospel are about preparation for leaving. The disciples, who are very much like us, are constantly asking Jesus, “Where are you going? What’s going to happen to us once you leave? Give us some instructions on what to do after you leave.”
    All of which brings to mind a shaggy dog story, which Manney Reid reminded me of several months ago.
    Once upon a time, there was a parish whose Rector was retiring. Now, this parish had already chosen its replacement. The replacement called up the retiring Rector and requested to meet in order to get the lowdown on the parish. “No,” the Rector who was leaving said, “I think you ought to find out for yourself.” The new guy was, if anything, persistent. So just before the retiring rector left town, he tried again. Once again, the Rector refused. But, he said, “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Here are three letters. Open them one at a time, as the occasion arises.” This wasn’t exactly what the new guy wanted, so he threw them in the back drawer of his desk and promptly forgot about them.
    Six months later, as the honeymoon period ended and people began saying no, and not being very kind in the criticism, he remembered the letters. He dug through this desk and found the first crumpled letter. Much to his surprise, there were only three words printed on a scrap of paper. It said, “Hang in there.” Which he did and after a while things did improve, or at least he developed a thicker skin.
    About a year later, those people emerged who were experts at playing the game,
    “Roast the Rector.” He was ready to pack his bags when it occurred to him, the envelope, the envelope. Maybe number two might have something to say to this situation. So he went back to his desk and found envelope number two. This one had a little longer message. “Remember,” it said, “it’s always darkest before the dawn.” He didn’t exactly understand this cryptic message, but it did inspire him to continue. And sure enough, things did get better.
    Unfortunately, in about two years, there was the somewhat predictable blow-up. All the nay-sayers came out of the woodwork. It seemed as if _ they were picking the skin right off his bones. Just as he was going down – for the third time, he thought of the last envelope. After a lot of rummaging around, he finally located envelope number three. Here was to be the answer to all the backbiting. Here was what every embattled Rector needed to know. So with shaking hands and a fast beating heart, he ripped open the envelope. And there it was, “Prepare three envelopes,”
    There were times, I must admit, during the past twenty-three years, when I seriously thought of preparing three envelopes. Somehow, though, I knew it was more difficult leaving than starting over. I also knew that a parish is like a clearing in a jungle. You work hard to push back all the underbrush, weeds and assorted tangles. And then when you turn your back, the jungle seems to creep right back and overrun the clearing. Sure enough, you have to get underway again. If not, you begin to write three letters. But remember, leavings are always very difficult.
    Our Gospel this morning is about leaving. Jesus tells his disciples that he is going away and will prepare a place for them. We often use this passage at funerals. Preachers use this as an introduction to talk about Heaven. (a subject they know little to nothing about). But, suppose this passage is not talking about Heaven as a destination. Suppose Jesus is teaching the disciples about leaving. Suppose he is saying that he is leaving in order to make room. Jesus leaves to give us space to grow. That’s a painful lesson that we all have to learn. Eventually, if you want a person to grow, to mature, you have to take the risk of leaving.
    Think of teaching a child to walk. You can hold them by their hands, but eventually you have to let them go and risk having them fall.
    Think of learning how to drive a car. You can show someone all the car instruments, explain the rules of driving, but eventually, the instructor has to surrender the steering wheel and risk an accident.
    But, make no mistake, leaving is hard. It’s risky and costly. But it is also a time of tremendous growth. “I go,” Jesus says, “I go, to give you the opportunity of growth. I go so that you might come to the Father.”
    And yet, Jesus tells his disciples, I will not leave you completely alone. I will not abandon you. Some part of me will remain. Isn’t this true of most leavings? When we leave, some part of us remains behind, as well as some part of the former situation is taken with us.
    The Irish have a custom called Greishog. Greishog refers to keeping the warm coals from last night’s fire from going out. They do this with the knowledge that the fires that warmed us before are worthy to warm us in the future. Greishog also refers to the process of leaving. When a family moves from one house to another, they take some of the warm coals with them from their former place of abode. They also let some of them remain for the new owners. Greishog, is one way the Irish have of symbolically saying, “I will not leave you comfortless.”
    Murphy’s law is true. Leaving is hard, it’s risky. It often leads to chaos. What happens if the fires go out? Can we start again? What happens if the new situation doesn’t bring growth? What happens if upsetness is all that occurs?
    One of my favorite musicals was Camelot. I’m sure most of you remember the story. Camelot was that ideal kingdom where all people were happy, where love and caring, and knightly good deeds abounded. Then everything went wrong. Bliss turned to chaos. The dream turned into a nightmare. The real message of the play was that for those who kept alive the memory, Camelot still existed.
    I can still hear Robert Goulet singing, “Don’t let it be forgot. Once there was a spot. For one shining moment that was known as Camelot.”
    Camelot stands for those moments of Grace that you and I have had in our lives. As I prepare for my last week with you, I would simply say, leavings are hard, but they are made easy by keeping alive the memories, the visions, the dreams, of what has been, what could be, and God willing, what will be. Remember, remember those shining moments that were known as Camelot.
    Amen.

  • Epiphany and St. Philip’s
    January 11, 1998
    I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating. You can look at a passage of Scripture a thousand times, and the next time you revisit it, new meanings jump out at you. I had that experience while preparing for this annual meeting sermon.
    The Epiphany story presents us with three strangers wandering about, following a star. And then one evening, they find themselves in Herod’s domain. Herod visits them, gives them supplies, and sends them on their way with the charge to let him know if they reach their goal.
    I want to look at that story for a moment. In order to do this, let us put aside the old stereotypes and try to see the characters with new eyes. First, the three people. They were neither wise men, nor magicians, nor astrologers. Their names certainly were not, as the hymn would have us believe, Kings, called Casper, Melchoir, and Baltazar_ All we really know is that they were three strangers,
    outsiders, risk-takers who were on a mission, following a
    star
    And then there was Herod. He’s had a bad press
    through the years. Today, I want you to think of him as no different than many of us. He’s made it, climbed the success ladder, and has a strong desire to keep life going the way it has always been. Herod, simply put, is the keeper of the status quo.
    We might say that Herod believes in the 10th commandment. That is the commandment that goes, “Thou shalt not Climb out on a limb.” Followers of this commandment feel that safety and security are more important than other values. It’s better to stay home, busy yourself with small projects, than to stretch your imagination and take on a really big goal. It’s better to stay in a safe harbor than venture out into deep water and possibly drown.
    But back to the story. Herod and the three strangers meet. And Herod is told they are following a star (which here stands for a vision). We might say the three are on a vision quest. Herod begins to question them. He, too, would like to see the Messiah. And so, the three share their vision. Herod seems enthusiastic. He encourages them. But he doesn’t go with them. Instead, he makes what seem to us to b+a reasonable, prudent request. “If you get there, let me know.” Herod doesn’t want to venture out until there is a degree of certainty. He would rather not go out on foot or on horseback. He’ll wait for the train, thank you very much. Sounds like an Episcopal point of view, doesn’t it?
    Whether Herod was to scared to dare; too comfortable to risk; too secure to follow a vision, we’re not sure. We only know that Herod opted for the lltGBPh commandment. And you know, Herod types scare the life out of me.
    Herod stands for a type of mediocrity – the mediocrity of many church people. Mediocrity that settles for something less than the best. The mediocrity which brings people to think it’s all’right to do an adequate job, but no need to go beyond the bounds of safety. The mediocrity
    that lacks imagination, and refuses to go into uncharted
    waters.
    Do you know what I fear most for St. Philip’s in the
    future? I fear that we will settle for mediocrity and begin to look like the majority of parishes in the Episcopal Church. I fear that in the years ahead, we will elect leaders who will identify more with Herod than the three strangers
    The great majority of parishes in the church have services on Sunday without a thought about transforming people. The great majority of parishes do good works in the community without concerning themselves about changing the good worker’s relationship to God. The great majority of parishes educate children without trying to convert them. That’s mediocrity in the dhurdh. Settling for something less than the best. Those are the kinds of parishes that would do well in Herod’s kingdom, but would have great trouble in God’s kingdom.
    The difference between Herod and the three strangers was that the three had a sense of being called out, A sense that God wanted them for a special task. For the past 20 years, I have tried to convince people that God is calling each one of us out, to follow a star, a vision, a dream. It always amazes me that sincere Christians find this so hard to believe. Every Sunday they hear that God can call forth a people from dry bones, sons and daughters from the stones at their feet, babies from barren wombs, a Savior from a humble manger, new life from a tomb. Yet many still find it hard to believe that God could possibly call them. Call them to follow a star, pursue a vision.
    My hope is that every single person in this parish is made aware that he/or she is called. Called out by God on a vision quest. Just like the three strangers.
    Here’s how the staff articulated that vision, a few months ago. “Our vision is to build a faith community that intentionally practices Christian vocation to transform the world in which we live_”
    How have we come up with this vision? Through prayer and talk and, above all, through listening to you. Let me share some of the comments we have heard.
    Roger, I am a nurse or a teacher. It’s a great job, but the environment is not particularly conducive to my faith. How do I get the support I need to live out my Christian vocation?
    Liz, my job is just a job. I want to develop, outside of my work hours, a ministry to those with AIDS. How do I go about getting the training I need?
    Peter, I want to make my job a part of my ministry. Do I have to be ordained for that? How do I celebrate in this community what I do five days a week?
    Those are the kind of comments we hear. And it is from those questions that we have built our vision. I am convinced that it is from this direction that God wants us to grow. Here it is again. “Building a faith community that intentionally practices Christian vocation to transform the world in which we live.”
    Good people, this parish of ours is the hope of the church. Never forget this. We’re the hope of the church, not because we know what to do. And not because we are necessarily doing it, but because we are willing to risk, to follow a vision like the three strangers. And to share that vision with the rest of the church.
    Let me end these thoughts on our parish by paraphrasing the words from Isaiah:
    Arise, St. Philips and shine like a star.
    The glory of the Lord is shining in you . . .
    People will be drawn to your light.
    Members to the dawning of a new day.
    Look around you and see what is happening. Your people are gathering to come home
    Your sons and daughters will come from far away. You will see them and be filled with joy , . .
    You will tremble with excitement,
    for look what God has done in you.
    Amen

/se