Main
  Who We Are
  Anglican Identity
  Upcoming Events
  Links

Our Worship
  Divine Office
  Services
  WOW
  Homilies

Our Ministries
  Prayer List
  Lay Ministry Rota
  The Servant

San Esteban
  San Esteban

Search:

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 9), July 3, 2005
Zechariah 9:9-12, Romans 7:21-8:6, Matthew 11:25-30
St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, West Valley City, UT

Sometimes preparing the Sunday sermon can be problematic. Last Monday night I had a dream. I was at a big mega church, Episcopalian (!) and was the guest preacher. I had been so busy that I had not written the sermon yet. Every time I tried to even think of the sermon I would get interrupted by someone saying how they were looking forward to the sermon. Then it was time to vest. I knew I would have a few minutes alone vesting, but this priest kept talking to me. I finally blurted out to her, “But I don't have the sermon done yet!”

Then I woke up. Sweating. Could not get back to sleep for two hours. The next day I drove to Brigham City for a funeral, put some Tchaikovsky on the stereo and thought of this sermon. I thought I knew where the sermon was going: how Jesus can make our burdens light if we but put our faith in him. Good, huh?

But I kept returning to Zechariah: “O prisoners of hope: today I declare that I will restore to you double.” “Prisoners of hope.” I realized that as I approached this weekend, I was very much a prisoner of hope. I was caught in my hopes for the promise of reality given to me as a citizen of this country: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Yes, I know that when this was written that all men were not treated as equal. Men and women were owned as property. Even “freed” women were seen as property of their husbands or fathers. But this well-worn phrase points to the promise and the hope of a group of men gathered together to chart their future as a new nation. I am a prisoner of the hope expressed in our Declaration of Independence.

As much as I am a prisoner of the hope for “a more perfect Union,[to] establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence [sic], promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty” stated in the Preamble of the Constitution.

I grew up believing these words. I am a prisoner of the hope for fulfillment of these words in my life and the life of those I love. I am a prisoner of hope that the rule of law and the spirit of justice will prevail in the country of my birth.

I also know that as a Christian that I consider myself as a resident alien in this country. My first allegiance is to my God and my faith. National citizenship comes after my Baptismal Covenant. And I hold both in tension as I try to live out my life as a Christian and a citizen of this nation.

When I first arrived at St. James' Church a parishioner who had been raised in the Orthodox Church asked me who she should vote for in the up coming election. I am sure that looked shocked that anyone would ask me that question. I told her to vote her conscience. She replied that her Orthodox priest always told the congregation who to vote for. I just smiled at having such power!

But I do believe that our faith must inform our decisions as a citizen of this or any nation. The separation of church and state does not mean separating my faith from my actions and decisions concerning my civic involvement. That, however, does not mean asking simple-minded questions such as, “what would Jesus do?” or “what does the church want me to do?”

Rather it means, for me, how do my decisions as a citizen reflect the promises I have made to God in my baptism? Can I support an administration—any administration, national or local—that lies? They clearly do not respect my dignity as a citizen to lie to me. Can I support a government that seeks war for its own benefit, profit, national glory or ego of its leader? Can I support a government that turns its back on the helpless, the vulnerable, the dispossessed, the homeless and the hungry? Can I support a government that seeks to deny some of its own citizens of their “unalienable Rights” of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness?”

And if I cannot support such a government or administration or political party, then what am I going to do about it as a Christian? How do I live out my Baptismal Covenant as a citizen of this nation? What is my responsibility as a citizen, even one who sees himself as a resident alien, to “strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?”

As you celebrate this Fourth of July weekend and give thanks for the freedoms that you enjoy, ask yourself how do you balance the promises of your Baptismal Covenant with your civic responsibilities as a citizen of the United States of America. Where are your priorities as a Christian and as a citizen of this nation to “strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?”