The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Year C RCL, Proper 22)
October 7, 2007
The Reverend Paul R. Abernathy, Rector
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The Apostle Paul writes to Timothy, to whom he has been a friend and mentor, saying, “I remember you.”[1]
Remember. Re, again, member, form, constitute.
Paul remembers Timothy in his prayers “night and day,” that is, constantly.
Secondly, Paul remembers Timothy’s tears, shed in sorrow at the rigors of holding fast to Jesus’ gospel of love and justice in the face of opposition
and persecution.
Thirdly, Paul remembers Timothy’s faith. A faith inherited from his forebears. A faith, therefore, of historicity and continuity. It didn’t simply
spring forth from nothing and it’s deeper than mere feeling. A faith that is a dispositional quality of loyalty to God and to others, particularly
in Timothy’s case, loyalty to Paul. A faith that is a characteriological capacity to say “Yes” to life, facing honestly all that it bears. A faithful
honesty, an integrity that even in the smallest amount, like that of a mustard seed, makes the impossible – remaining true to one’s self, come what
may – possible.[2]
Timothy’s faith, Paul reminds him, is “sincere” – from the Latin, sine cere, without wax. In ancient times, dishonest sculptors sometimes hid the
imperfections of their work with wax. The deceit, however, was soon discovered if the buyer placed the statuary outdoors, exposing it to the sun’s
light and heat. To be sine cere, without wax, was to be genuine. Paul reminds Timothy that his faith is like that – real, authentic. No longer only
shared with his forebears, but fully claimed and truly owned.
Now, Paul doesn’t remember and remind Timothy of all this simply for the sake of flattery, no matter how earnest. No. Paul remembers because he
wants Timothy to remember, to re, again, member, form, constitute his own sense of his self. Why? So that Timothy might renew his commitment to
proclaim with his lips and life the gospel, the good news of Jesus’ love and justice.
Paul’s reminders to Timothy, apparently, were necessary, for, remember, Timothy was in tears. The times, evidently, were perilous.
The House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church gathered recently in New Orleans to respond to the call of fellow Anglicans of the global church to
“(mend) the tear in the fabric of our common life” over issues of biblical interpretation and authority, human sexuality, and jurisdictional
boundaries. These issues, of course, are dynamic and complex. Yet, perhaps the most prominent request of our church was for us to uphold the view
that “homosexual practice (is) incompatible with Scripture.”[3] And therefore, that we not ordain as bishops lesbians and
gays who live their lives in committed relationships, and that we do not sanction the blessing of same sex unions by authorizing liturgical rites
“until a broader consensus emerges in the (Anglican) Communion.”[4] All of which demands, in my view, that we repudiate,
declare as shameful our lesbian and gay sisters and brothers.
Our bishops, at the close of the meeting, issued A Statement, which, as I read it, is as classic an expression of Anglicanism as could be written.
At its best, it is a wondrously authentic articulation of life’s ambiguities. However, at its worst, it seeks to stand on the ground while
straddling a fence, which metaphorically is the image of a most painful posture.
I don’t how our bishops could have so contorted themselves into this epistolary pretzel – which says everything and, therefore, pleases no one,
and, even worse, sacrifices gospel inclusion on the altar of a false peace – and still have been able to stand up. I fear that they have not.
Therefore, I want us to remember always those who are oppressed. Those who systemically, institutionally are excluded. Those who, while often absent
from the table of deliberation, are the subjects of the debates of the privileged who have the privilege of taking time to reach a consensus.
I want us to remember the tears of the oppressed. Let us weep not only for them, but also with them, for if any of us is diminished, then all of us
are diminished.
I want us to remember faith, for the times are perilous. Remember the faith of Jesus, who true to his gospel of love and justice, did the impossible,
remaining true to his cause, boldly challenging the authorities knowing that he was walking into the valley of the shadow of death. Let us also
remember our faith as those who do not worship, but rather, follow him.
[1] 2 Timothy 1.3. The epistle appointed for the day is 2 Timothy 1.1-14.
