I Samuel 15:34 – 16:13, II Corinthians 5:6-17, Mark 4:26-34
St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, West Valley City, UT
The Rev'd W. Lee Shaw
I have been blessed this week to get glimpses into the kingdom of God which Jesus describes only in parables. I have a sense Jesus uses parables so as not to limit us to where/how/when to glimpse the kingdom of God, the reign of God in our time, our life.
Two times this week: first was the Gay Pride Interfaith Service. Odd place for some I realize. But here were men and women of all sexualities and “labels” who came together for one purpose – the worship of God in the fellowship of community. To me that equals the kingdom of God.
The next was our clergy retreat this past week – perhaps for some more nebulous than the Gay Pride Interfaith service. But we came together, about 30+ priests and deacons, to discuss our common life and our hopes for the next bishop of Utah. We had frank, honest conversations that brought us to a deeper awareness and understanding of each other. I feel it also brought us to a keener sense of healing in those places in our common life that are wounded or torn.
As I sat and listened to my fellow clergy share and at times expound, I thought of what the kingdom/reign of God looks like in community. Then I remembered.
Last September I was in Scotland on a Celtic Pilgrimage. Part of my time was spent on the Isle of Iona, off the coast of Scotland, a truly “thin place” where eternity and mortality meet. One day a group of us made the hike, a couple of hours, to “St. Columba’s Beach,” the place tradition holds St. Columba landed on Iona when fleeing Ireland 1,400+ years ago. Since last Tuesday was the Feast of St. Columba, my mind was already tuned to him.
There were maybe 12 of us that made the hike over dirt roads, a golf course (also serving as a pasture for cows and sheep), swampy inlets and finally the beach of stones, rocks and a steady wind from the sea. It was quite the experience. As my fellow pilgrims explored the beach I wandered off to look at the surrounding landscape. That is when I discovered it. I found a gift left for us by pilgrims who had come in the past to this place. I found a labyrinth, constructed of large rocks from the beach; a full labyrinth to walk and to pray. So I walked it. I prayed it. Soon I discovered that I was not alone. There had been others here before me. Sheep. There were numerous sheep droppings along the path of the labyrinth. This did not stop me from my walking prayer, but it did call forth a greater intentionality on my part in how I walked the labyrinth.
When I finished walking, then I told the others about it. They came and walked it as well. One of my favorite images of community, the kingdom of God, is these good folks walking/praying the labyrinth with great faith and great intentionality. Your mind may be fully on heaven, your heart may be fully in tune with God, but your feet are truly connected to this earth and all it holds for us.
The parables and images Jesus holds up for us of the kingdom/reign of God are all tied to our life in the real world. The reign of God is not pastel lights, and soft images with your favorite music wafting around you. The reign of God is you in the midst of community, your feet firmly connected to this world and all that it contains. Yet with your mind and heart you are in tune with God and community.
For me, a parable of the kingdom of God is a stone labyrinth in Scotland with sheep droppings forcing us to pay attention to our world even as we pray and seek God in prayer and in community.
So, with what can we compare the kingdom of God? We can compare it to anything that is meaningful for us, which draws into closer relationship with our God, which brings us into closer communion with others, and which forces us to pay attention to the world about us; a world that requires our healing, our work and our life.
So this past week I glimpsed the reign of God in a gathering of men and women at First Methodist Church who came to affirm and celebrate who they are as children of God. I also saw it in the faces of my fellow clergy who came to discuss and live into what it means to be a community of the ordained in this place at this time. And I also see it in you, your faces and your lives lived in this place, St. Stephen’s.
I give thanks for your faith and witness. I give thanks for the kingdom of God I glimpse in my life among you. I give thanks to our God for our common life and faith and ministry.