Pentecost 3 June 13th, 2010

Pentecost 3
June 13th, 2010

In this week’s Gospel Jesus comes to town a stranger.
Many of you know how that is: finding yourself in a new place, wondering if you’ll meet anyone, if anyone will invite you into their lives.
The Gospel shows two wildly different reactions:
The exuberance of the woman, her outrageous gift to Jesus, cracking open the alabaster jar of nard, the most expensive perfume in the store, breaking the elegant designer jar and pouring the oil extravagantly out on his feet
Jesus contrasts her over-the-top generosity with the respectable Pharisee’s lack of hospitality.
She gave Jesus the best she had, the Pharisee gave him second best.. She trusted that he wouldn’t reject her; the Pharisee hedged his bets.

Just one month shy of nine years ago I came to you as a stranger in your midst. You didn’t know me or my family, except the superficial facts the vestry and search committee had told you.
You welcomed us like the woman with the precious oil. You broke open your lives to me.
You entrusted me with precious parts of your lives: I baptized you and your children; I prepared many of you younger people for confirmation, and a number of you for reception in the Episcopal Church. You have confided in me, you’ve told me your stories—the happy ones but also the sad, scary, awful ones maybe you haven’t told anyone else. You shared with me your worries and joys in the present, your fears and your hopes for the future. I have heard your confessions formal and otherwise, and we’ve grieved together as we’ve buried your loved ones.
You haven’t held back.

My dears, do you have any idea what a great church this is? I hope you do—if not, I’m about to tell you!
I have never had to worry whether we’d be ready for action when I came in on Sunday morning. You routinely display competent, confident lay leadership in worship, outreach, finances, stewardship, facilities, and education. All this is normal for CHS, but let me assure you it’s rare! My colleagues got tired of hearing me brag about you!
You listened to me—for a preacher that’s a great gift in a congregation—and sometimes you disagreed, sometimes you agreed, and often you were willing to entertain some new ways of looking at things. In turn, you brought me your ideas—here are just some of them: the Farmers’ Market, Al Anon, our relationship with Salem Children’s Trust which generated our Thanksgiving and Easter dinners; the Bike ‘n Barbecue, our amazingly prolific Quilting group. It was easy—all I had to do was listen and say “What a great idea!”
You were so brave, stepping forward in 2003 to buy the land and buildings on Highland Street—that was a pretty wild leap of faith! Throughout the years you’ve been solid. You’ve stuck together through some hard and painful times.
There’s one gift that might be easy to downplay, but I think is essential to how this congregation works—your ability to laugh together. I remember (I mentioned this in our last vestry meeting) in a budgetary hard time, sitting downstairs in the CLC doing a book study while the budget committee met upstairs. They were facing a daunting prospect. But suddenly what we heard from upstairs was—laughter, not mean or cynical, but faith-filled. It was “we’ll get through this with God’s help but boy do we need God’s help” kind of laughter.

As I stand on the brink of leaving this ministry, I know that being your priest has changed me. You have taught me, stretched me, consoled me, demanded things of me I thought I couldn’t do. I will carry all this with me through the rest of my life.

I want to say two last things:
First, I know that inevitably over the past nine years I’ve done and said (or not done and not said) things that need forgiveness. In the words of the Act of Contrition I learned as a child, I “am heartily sorry for having offended you.” Please forgive me.
Second, I want to leave you with a “charge”: Dearest people of Church of the Holy Spirit, dear friends---during this transition, please guard yourselves against the temptation to pull inwards, to circle the wagons, to play it safe.
Instead, let yourselves be challenged. Keep your eyes peeled for those folks within the congregation and outside it who need a touch of God’s love. Then, with the wonderful entrepreneurial spirit that lies deep in this church’s DNA, figure out what to do about it. Remind each other to take risks for the sake of the Gospel.
You young people, help them out! Claim your place in the church! Share your ideas and talents with Bob Cochran and the vestry, Gwynna and the worship committee, with Paula and the outreach committee—you are smart and you know things the old folks do not know---be willing to teach them.

And now I leave you confidently under the tender care of the Holy Spirit, whose constant loving presence is at the heart of this church, prodding you here, comforting you there, and sustaining you always.