Sermon for St. George's Day Evensong
Bishop James Mathes
Sermon for St. George's Day Evensong
St. Paul's Cathedral, May 1, 2005
Joel 2: 21 -27
Matthew 13: 24 - 34a
Come Holy Spirit: Touch our minds and think with them, touch our lips and speak with them and touch our hearts and set them on fire with love for you. AMEN.
I.
In August of 1941, off the shores of Newfoundland, Franklin Roosevelt and Winston
Churchill met as Britain struggled in a dark time for her very survival against
the Nazi assault. Historians are clear that this meeting was crucial in building
the alliance that would ultimately lead to the defeat of Hitler. In the midst
of this conference, sailors and statesmen paused to worship under the mighty
guns of the ship, Her Majesty's Prince of Wales. It was the best of Anglican
worship; hymns and prayers comforted and strengthened those in the midst of
a mighty battle and those who would soon join them. From the decks rang out
these words,
"Eternal Father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep, its own appointed limits keep:
O hear us when we cry to thee for those in peril on the sea."
In the midst of strife, these warriors turned to a place of common past, a
connection, where they could turn all their anxieties over to their "Eternal
Father, strong to save".
Today, we celebrate anew our common heritage as Anglicans as we commemorate
St. George, patron of England, who also battled against foes who would devour
the innocent. For as legend has it, George slew a dragon in Libya thereby rescuing
a beautiful princess from being a dragon's dinner. He then proceeded to evangelize
the local population with a powerful sermon. Thus, George is known as a follower
of Christ who protected the defenseless, gave to the poor, and spread the gospel.
For our modern sensibilities it seems a bit unsettling to have a warrior cast
as a saint. We would find it unsettling at the very least to have evangelists
bearing swords. But this evening, George stands in our midst as one who understood
who he was, what he stood for and was willing to give everything for God.
II.
We, lovers of our Anglican tradition, gather as if on a sea of battle. For even
though we are not on a battleship with guns overhead or slaying dragons and
rescuing damsels in distress, we feel in our Anglican communion a conflict that
threatens the very bonds that make us a communion and unite us as a people.
It is as if war is being waged in today's church is for the heart of Anglicanism.
The battlefields are in conventions and councils, and from time to time in Vestries.
At its root is a theological debate over Scripture, authority, and ethics. In
the heat of conflict, we have lost sight of the essence of what it means to
be an Anglican. And so this evening in the midst of this sea, I attempt to claim
three anchors of Anglicanism by which we can hold fast as the waters calm. These
anchors are the heart of our heritage and tradition through which we might discover
that we are all under the same flag, which when unfurled holds the cross of
St. George.
III.
Conflict is of course not new to the Anglican Church. We have disagreed over
matters for centuries. We have fought over churchmanship, issues of justice
including slavery, the role of women, and issues of war and peace. Yet, by and
large, throughout our past endeavors we have held fast to what we hold in common.
It has been sufficient to claim the primacy of Scripture, the historic Creeds,
our traditions, and to value our intellect as a gift for reasonable and sacred
conversation. We have steadfastly avoided any other standards or litmus tests.
We have been described as a big tent. Perhaps the second lesson gives us another
metaphor: "The Kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good
seed in a field." We are a part of the field that is ever more becoming
the Kingdom of God. Assuredly there is both wheat and weed in the field. But
this parable of Jesus makes it clear that it is the master of the field who
is cautious to let the harvest come. He does not wish to risk an early culling
that destroys what is good. Make no mistake about it: the power to discern who
and what is of God is God's power. We must be very careful about presuming to
appropriate that authority. The master of the field says, "No; for in gathering
the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let them both grow together
until the harvest." As Anglicans we have trusted the Lord of the Harvest
to take care of the dividing and discerning in the fullness of time. Our day's
current impatience and appropriation of the harvester's judgment is simply not
our way. For those who see another's theology or practice as weeds not wheat,
Jesus says, "Leave that to me and simply work in my field." And so,
let us lower as our first anchor into these troubled waters a spirit of radical
hospitality as a heart of Anglicanism so that in our mission field we don't
miss any wheat.
And speaking of the mission field leads me to a second principle of Anglicanism.
To be an Anglican means to be engaged in the world. Throughout our history,
from Augustine's arrival on the shores of England to Thomas a Becket to William
Temple, our leaders, theologians and people have been engaged in intersecting
the issues of the world with an eye to the world to come. We have confronted
the great gap between what is and what can be. As a people of common prayer,
we have consistently looked to those on the margins and moved through prayer
to change lives. Schools have been founded. Hospitals established. Civil rights
defended. Apartheid ended. As Jesus second parable in the gospel makes so clear,
do not discount the smallest of seeds. For like the mustard seed, we can grow
to become a great bush.
Regrettably, today's focus on division and human sexuality has us focusing
on ourselves and on our survival, which is a rather strange thing for a community
built upon the souls of martyrs to worry about. Survival is not really important;
what is important is doing the work of building the kingdom. However, when we
do this, we look out and see people's hurts and hopes and we make their concerns
for a whole and holy life our concern. When we take this appropriate missional,
active perspective, we find that we need not worry about survival or size. So,
we release as our second anchor our Anglican nature as a missional church which
seeks to bring hope and assuage hurts.
Much has changed in the sixty-five years when Roosevelt and Churchill lent
their voices in common song and prayer. The Anglican Church and Communion are
widely diverse, more than it ever has been. We differ in culture, language,
theological preparation and presupposition. We span the planet in very direction.
We take differing sides on every issue. There is just enough, just enough, that
we hold in common to remain together. And here is a mystery that we must value,
in doing this we come ever closer to the truth. This is the yeast which grows
the kingdom of God ever nearer. Because none of us owns the truth or the mind
of Christ in singularity, we need each other … each a part of the body
to call us closer to the mind and heart of Christ. We challenge, correct and
grow each other. If we fragment or split, the yeast is lost and the bread is
flat and stale… truth is lost…the Kingdom is diminished. Samir Kafity,
my new friend and retired primate of the Middle East and Bishop of Jerusalem,
knows more about diversity and division than I ever will. He said to me recently
something that I think is truly a pivotal truth: "It is so easy to misunderstand
and so difficult to understand." As Anglicans, we have always sought understanding
with passion, dedication, and persistence. And now our ship settles secure as
this third anchor holds fast, a deep, unceasing commitment to seek deeper understanding.
Radical hospitality, a tireless devotion to being a missional church in the
world, and a passion for understanding others are anchors that must be deploy
if we are to weather the conflict of our present time.
There are those who will feel that the only solution is to split the Anglican
Communion in two, with each claiming to be the true church. Such an action would
be the most un-Anglican thing we could do. To be an Anglican is to remain welcoming,
engaged in the world, and with those who unsettle or disagree with us.
I began this sermon with a moment at sea with great leaders with storm clouds all around. Those great leaders spoke words that rallied a people. Almost echoing Joel, Roosevelt said that all we have to fear is fear itself. And Churchill said that the English people would never surrender. Confident in our identity as Anglicans, with clear principles that inform this identity, let us not be overcome by our fears, and let us never surrender the essence of who we are in this corner of Christ's mission field that we claim as the Anglican way.
AMEN