The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 13), July 31, 2005
Nehemiah 9:16-20, Romans 8:35-39, Matthew 14:13-21
St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, West Valley City, UT

The Rev. W. Lee Shaw

Several weeks ago I was invited to join a peer group for spiritual directors and we have met a couple of times. This past week in our conversations, the question came up: Where do you find joy in your ministry? It was an easy question for me. I find my joy in ministry in many places, but two in particular. I find joy being in worship with you; be it a crowded Easter Sunday celebration, a quiet Worship on Wednesday, or any given Sunday as we gather for prayers, fellowship and the breaking of the bread. One other key place of joy for me is in being with you, visiting with you, hearing your stories and your pilgrimage of faith, with all of its twists and turns. My joy in ministry is found in community. As I have quoted before, “I am who we are.”

There is a strong sense of community and of confidence in our epistle reading today. Paul knows all too well the harshness and the risk of being a Christian of the first century. He knows men and women who have been killed for their faith. He knows their stories, their pilgrimage of faith, and he writes to the church in Rome, the seat of the Empire, to encourage and strengthen them.

These words of Paul's have given solace and comfort to countless Episcopalians and others in their greatest time of need for reassurance and support, the death of a loved one. Paul's words are part of our Prayer Book which all of you have read at one time or another and maybe not realized the source. They are found on page 507 as a “Note” to the Burial Office: “The liturgy for the dead is an Easter liturgy. It finds all its meaning in the resurrection. Because Jesus was raised from the dead, we, too, shall be raised.

“The liturgy, therefore, is characterized by joy, in the certainty that ‘neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.’

“This joy, however, does not make human grief unchristian. The very love we have for each other in Christ brings deep sorrow when we are parted by death. Jesus himself wept at the grave of his friend. So, while we rejoice that one we love has entered into the nearer presence of our Lord, we sorrow in sympathy with those who mourn.”

More times than not, this “Note” is printed in the funeral bulletin and has brought comfort to millions of grieving people: Comfort because of Paul's unswerving sense of pastoral care for those suffering, afraid, and unsure. It is here that Paul and the church can bring comfort in the greatest time of need.

It is also here that we find comfort in the daily, less than catastrophic distractions of our lives. Nothing can or will “separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.” Not being late on a payment or late to a meeting. Not feeling like you have nothing to offer or always being on the minority side in your office or with friends. Not being divorced or single or gay or lesbian or in a less than perfect relationship. Not being overweight or too thin or too old or too young. Not feeling sad, depressed or alone or even rejecting the very idea of God all together.

Nothing in heaven or on earth can separate you from the love of God. We have had a lot of parables of judgment during the past several weeks. Parables that have been used too many times to exclude, condemn and damn people not seen as worthy or good or of value to society. Well, here Paul is very clear that these people, you and me among others, are of value to God. Nothing will separate us from the love of God, nothing in heaven or on earth, things seen or unseen, powers, principalities, or rulers of any sort. They have no power to separate anyone, including you and me, from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

In our Gospel we heard about the feeding of the “five thousand men, besides women and children.” Another feeding miracle. Nice. For me, however, that is not the message here. The message is Jesus.

He left the crowds because he needed time to be alone. He retreated from the crowds for a time for himself to pray and recharge. Yet they followed him and he did not reject or neglect them. Even in his fatigue and need to be alone in prayer and rest, he cared for them, ministered to them, had “compassion for them and cured their sick.” Despite his human needs for rest, he extended his pastoral care and healing grace to them.

If Jesus did this for them in his human incarnation, how much more will God through the Holy Spirit do for you in the here and now? “Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” The Holy Spirit now will continue to minister to you in your greatest need, even when you feel the most alone and abandoned, God will not, cannot, forget you. As we heard last week, the Holy Spirit intercedes for us with “sighs too deep for words.”

You may not always feel it. You may not always be aware of it. But God “will raise you up on eagles wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make to shine like the sun and hold you in the palm of his hand.” For God loves you and cherishes you and you are precious in his sight.