Genesis 28:10-19a, Romans 8:12-25, Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, West Valley City, UT
The Rev'd W. Lee Shaw
There are few passages for me in Scripture as powerful and moving as
this particular section from St. Paul’s letter to the church in Rome.
It literally rings with clarity and truth: …it is that very Spirit
bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God…
For
the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children
of God…in hope that the creation itself will be set free…and will
obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that
the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now…
We are children of the living God yet we are not alone as beloved of God. The whole of creation is loved and is groaning as if in labor pains for the ultimate re-union with the Divine. We are all connected to and with creation as we wait in hope. We wait in hope for what we yet cannot see, only intimate at. We wait in hope for the fulfilling of God’s love for all creation. We wait in hope and with patience. (Now that’s the hard part!)
Even as we wait in hope, patiently or impatiently, we get glimpses,
hints of the glory yet to be revealed. We sang about it earlier today
in that we are living on holy ground. As I have said before, There
is a strange holiness around our common days on common ground.
This is what Jacob glimpsed as he slept alone in the desert. Following
his vision he declares: Surely the Lord is in this place—and I
did not know it!
How many times have we had similar feelings as we reflected on or
remembered something in the past? We did not necessarily feel God moving
in our life at that time, but now…yes…the Lord was in that place
and I did not know it!
As I have thought of this sermon and where
God has moved in my life, I re-discovered such a place. A place I did
not then see as a holy place in my life as it was a necessary difficulty
to get through. A rock to rest my head on as it were.
I offer a very personal experience of such a holy time and place: Ten years ago I was the associate rector at St. James’ Parish. I lived a shadow life of those who knew and those who I felt did not need to know who I really was: a priest of the church and gay. It was my private version of don’t ask, don’t tell. I had been privately out to a select few for years and had even been approved for seminary by the diocese as a gay man. But now my own parish did not really know me, only a select few. My faith community did not know. The people I prayed with and broke bread with did not know the full me.
Then Lambeth 1998 happened. The bishops of the Anglican Communion passed a resolution saying that homosexuality was incompatible with Christian scripture and life. I had to respond in my life. I had to respond with my life.
So in a sermon during Lambeth 1998, I came out physically,
spiritually and liturgically. You might as well cover all the bases
at one time! I did not do it in a vacuum, I had spent time in prayer
and reflection as well as discussion with others, including my bishop,
as to how to live into this new reality of my life. I remember at the
8 a.m. service an elderly couple who always sat on the second row for
they were hard of hearing. When I made my announcement in the middle of
the sermon, she turned to her husband and said more loudly than I had,
Did he say he was gay?
Yep, the word was out! I was out!
I could not preach about the love of God, about justice and about the respect of every human being unless I was willing to trust the love of God, trust in the promise for justice and trust in the hope for the respect for every human being. I had to let God into the full person that I am and not hide any part of me from God or from others. To be authentic in myself, to my community of faith and with my God I had to live into what I said I believed about trust, faith, hope and love.
I see now that I was on very holy ground that Sunday. It has been holy ground ever since. This was a story of my experience, the details of your story are different. When you allow God into your life there are no guarantees that it will be uneventful or easy. But when you let God into your life, you also know that you are never alone. You always have the angels whispering to you: fear not. You always have the promise of God: you are my beloved.
My friends, I believe there are places in your life where you need to let God in. There are places in your life that are closed off that need to be opened and given over to God. There are places in your life that are holy but still hidden, you just cannot see or feel them yet. There are holy places in your life yet unexplored and examined. I am here to be with you to explore those areas in your life and I promise to continue with you.
Take the risk of that rascal Jacob and dare to dream dreams of God moving
in your life. I truly believe that what God says to us in baptism is
not unlike what Jacob heard: I will not leave you until I have done
what I have promised you.
You are beloved of God. God’s promise
to you is direct: You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and
marked as Christ’s own forever.
So, listen to the angels: fear not.
When you do and when you live into that promise you will be able to
say with Jacob: Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not
know it!