Sermon preached by the Reverend Nicholas Lang, Rector

St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut

2nd Sunday after Pentecost, June 10, 2007

 

May the Holy Spirit of God rise up before you, the friendship of our brother Jesus be within your reach, and God, the loving Parent, meet you and hold you fast. Amen.

 

A distraught senior citizen phoned her doctor. “Is it true,” she wanted to know, “that the medication you prescribed has to be taken for the rest of my life?” ”Yes, I’m afraid so,” the doctor told her. There was a moment of silence before the elderly lady replied, “I’m wondering, then, just how serious my condition is…because this prescription is marked ‘NO REFILLS’.”

 

Life is full of contradictions and life in the church is no different. Today we are celebrating a baptismal liturgy which brings us to the font of the water through which we receive new life, are born again as members of the household of God and marked as Christ’s own forever. One of the very youngest among us, baby Charlie Iozzo, will be the center of attention in just a few minutes. Yet the readings from Scripture today, both Old and New Testament are about death.

 

There’s a deeper level of meaning in these two stories. Both of them are about widows. In the eras in which they occurred, women were second class citizens and women whose husbands had died were especially marginalized. They had no inheritance rights and were dependent on other family members for survival.

 

I can certainly understand that scenario. My grandmother, Mae Burke, was widowed before she was fifty and left with six children. It was a hard life for her keeping up the house and caring for the family while my grandfather worked long hours as a longshoreman. After his sudden death, she had to go to work and my mother and her younger sister did as well and contributed to the upkeep of the household. The day-to-day existence of widows and their children can be very shaky.

 

The two back-to-back accounts of these widows witnessing the miracles of their dead sons coming back to life are certainly wonderful illustrations of the hand of God at work. In the case of the widow of Naim, we find a profound example of how much compassion Jesus has for someone who not only has lost a son but is facing a life of great hardship, isolation, and poverty.

 

This is not just a story about an exciting and extraordinary miracle that Jesus performed – one that defied natural law. It is also a story about justice for the have-nots and healing for the broken-hearted.

 

It is a strange and sad oddity that a religion whose foundation is rooted in a ministry of healing has too often become the instrument of damage and impairment. There are leaders in that brand of church who freely spew hatred and preach in exclusionary language that feeds on their victims’ guilt and shame. That is the polar opposite of the church Jesus gave us and the church into which Charlie will be welcomed today.

 

Christ’s Church, in its most authentic expression, is always the place where healing can and does happen and where joyful grace abounds and I think it is no stretch to say that everyone of us here is in need of some kind of healing.

 

Some may have a chronic annoying condition or a serious, even life-threatening illness. Others may be struggling with one or more types of addiction. There are those here today who are in pain because of a broken relationship that needs healing and there are others who feel that God is absent and are desperately seeking the experience of God’s nearness.

 

It is because all of us on the journey of life are in need of some kind of healing, that this community offers that ministry – Christ’s own gift to the church – every Sunday. It is free. It is powerful. It is comforting. It is for anyone and everyone, anytime. You don’t need to utter a word – just show up at one of the healing stations. You are anointed with sacred oil, the symbol of our reconciliation with God, and feel the gentle touch of hands reminding you that you are not only enveloped by God’s grace but also by a community of fellow travelers who walk the journey with you.

 

This morning’s scriptures tell stories of untimely deaths of young people. When a young person dies, a part of the future dies as well. This past week, the people of the Episcopal Diocese of Northern Michigan learned this tragic lesson and on Friday they gathered to celebrate the life of their much beloved Bishop James Kelsey who died at the age of 54 in an automobile accident last Sunday as he made his way home from a parish visitation. He was a bright shining star in the House of Bishops and the Episcopal Church and will be sorely missed.

 

Jim Kelsey had a passion for instilling in people the understanding that our baptism is our ordination as a unique individual to do ministry, not just in the church, but in the world – a shared mission of vitality among the baptized. His teaching for the Church was not lost upon those who came to eulogize him for he lay in repose with his baptismal certificate planted at the base of the baptismal font.

 

Several people spoke during the funeral liturgy. Jack Croneberger, retired bishop of Newark, offered this: “Baptism and the Baptismal Covenant captured his heart and gave him his marching orders. Jim knew that it was not enough to say that you believed in God. It was at least as important to describe what you plan to do about your belief in covenant with God.”

 

Fredrica Harris Thompsett, faculty member at Episcopal Divinity School and a good friend to us here at St. Paul’s, rose to say, “I know of nobody who is better, Jim, than you at playing in the fully inclusive waters of baptism. Your legacy paradoxically reminds us that one person can make a huge difference, especially when that person insists on working along side and valuing others.”

 

So as one part of the church says its good-byes to one of the baptized, this church welcomes another. Life is full of contradictions but there are no contradictions in what the Spirit is saying to the people today. God’s words to us this morning are those same words Jesus spoke to the young man on the funeral bier in the Gospel story: “I say to you, arise.” Charles Anthony, arise from the water of baptism to the beginning of your new life in Christ. All you who will witness the vows his parents and godparents make on his behalf and who renew your own covenant of baptism, arise into a life of forgiveness and healing. Arise into a life of justice and peace. Come play in the inclusive waters of baptism. Arise and rejoice, because God has looked favorably upon you. Arise into a life that will not end when you die, but will continue into God’s eternity. Sisters and Brothers in Christ, I say to you, arise!