Signs of the Times

How many Episcopalians does it take to change a light bulb? At least 50. A sexton to change the bulb. The rector, the deacon, and seminarian to lead the ceremony blessing the new bulb. The church secretary to make up the special bulletin insert with the bulb-blessing ceremony, including congregational responses: “Do you, the people of St. Peter’s, promise to support this bulb in its work on behalf of this church?” “We do!” The choirmaster/organist to write and arrange a special Blessing of the Bulb Anthem: the “Phos 100-Watt GE Soft White” and 12 specially-imported choir members to sing it. One parishioner to say to herself during the singing of the anthem, “Wait, my mother donated the old light bulb!” The remaining people in the pews thinking to themselves, “Is this service EVER going to end?” PLUS — six of those in the pews will form a Society for the Preservation of the Light Bulb, and two of those people will leave the parish and try to find someone who will let them use the Real Light Bulb of their forefathers.

Well, it’s easy to laugh at ourselves. In fact, it’s healthy to laugh at our ourselves, but there’s some truth in the joke, isn’t there? We Episcopalians have a tendency to get hung up on trivial issues. We sometimes behave as if we believe that a well-crafted liturgy will solve all our problems. We often look to the past instead of attending to the present. Most important, we tend to resist change, whether in how we use space – “You want to move the font??” – how, when, and in what language we worship, how we minister to the rest of the community, even what pew we sit in! Change is just plain difficult! And not only for us. That light bulb joke, with slight variations, can be told about every religious community, really most any group of people. In fact, we naturally fear change of almost any sort, of our living arrangements, our work, our health, our leaders, our friends, and family. Change is risky. Maybe it’s even adaptive to be suspicious of change.

Yet, Jesus forcefully reminds us in today’s Gospel that change we must. We’re still walking with Jesus towards Jerusalem. Along the way Jesus has been teaching his disciples and us about the cost of discipleship. He has reminded us that we must disentangle ourselves from the standards and values of this world and make our primary commitment to him and to life in the Spirit. Last week Jesus raised the standards for discipleship by exhorting his friends to remain “dressed and ready for action,” ready to respond to his call to deeper commitment whenever it comes. Today his charge is even more electrifying. His eyes are hard, and his words are angry: “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already blazing.” Whatever they may have thought before, this is certainly not the cuddly baby whom the angels promised would bring peace on earth to those whom God favors. This is not the Prince of Peace. This is not Jesus the Good Shepherd, the gentle caretaker of the sheep? The Jesus whom his friends and we now see intensely, passionately longs to realize God’s kingdom. This Jesus longs to purify the earth, cleanse its people, destroy sin, and restore creation. This Jesus intensely, passionately wants to enable God’s people to produce the fruits of righteousness and justice expected of disciples. And this Jesus reminds us that if we take our commitment to him at all seriously, our life will not be sweetness and light. “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” If we are deeply and truly committed to Jesus, if we are willing to answer his call, we will inevitably face opposition, especially from those who hold power and influence over us.

As he urges his friends to a deeper commitment, Jesus also turns to the wider crowd. Jesus challenges the crowd to read the signs, to see what God is doing in their midst, and to discern, if they can, what God calls them to do. “You can read the signs of changing weather,” he tells them, “but do you understand what is happening around you. Why do you not know how to interpret the present time?” Jesus challenges the crowd to focus on, to really look at what is happening right in their very midst, to see that God’s Kingdom has come near to them. And he warns them and us, that with his death and resurrection, all that is settled and stable will be changed, and the world will never be the same.

Do we somehow want to stop the train? Somehow tell Jesus to stop challenging God’s people to deeper life, stop calling us to partner with God in the bringing in of God’s Kingdom? We know we can’t. Jesus has warned us. We know that we are called, every day of our lives, to grow in the Spirit and to change. Certainly, we are called to personal change. As life-changing as baptism was for all of us, even those of us baptized as infants, we know that baptism was just the beginning of our Christian lives. We are called to give up old sins and bad habits. Perhaps parts of our lives really need a cleansing or even a destructive fire. We are called to continue to grow in our intellectual understanding of our faith, in our spiritual lives, in our service to our neighbors, and in our efforts to spread God’s kingdom of love and righteousness. Sometimes we may feel that all that was easy and comfortable in our lives is being swept away as we follow Jesus into new and uncharted territory. If you feel that way sometimes, then give thanks to God, for that feeling is a sure sign that God is at work in your life.

We are called to change as a parish. We can no longer be content with the “same old, same old.” We must take on new forms, times, perhaps even places of worship. Perhaps we will have to make changes in how we understand sacred space. Perhaps we can make room in our busy, stressed-out lives for some spaces of silence, some intentional practice of contemplative prayer, some new ways of seeing God in our midst. We will have to find new ways of doing Christian formation. Perhaps not everything has to happen on Sunday. We must look hard at what, where, and when, we are engaging in mission and outreach. Are we engaging in mission that really serves our community? Are we reaching out in ways that show God’s love to others? Are we really partnering with God to help bring God’s Kingdom near, or are we only doing what feels easy and comfortable to us? What signs of the present time are we missing?

And we must consider well and deeply the kinds of changes in the wider community and world, whose birth we might help encourage. What is God saying to us in the events of our own day? Where are those in the military whom we pray for actually stationed? Do we know why they are there and what our nation is trying to accomplish through its military deployment? Can we do a better job of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, eliminating poverty, stamping out human trafficking, or caring for the earth? Are we taking the trouble to see where God might be at work in any of these areas? Come to Mountain Grace in October and see how God is at work in this region. Subscribe to the e-newsletter of the Episcopal Public Policy Network and begin reading the signs of the times in other areas of concern.

A century and a half ago, our country was called to make a great change in its social life.1 It almost seems incomprehensible to us today. Our country was called to abolish human slavery. The abolition movement was begun and continued by people of great faith, including women, who discovered that they too could be in the advance-guard of God’s kingdom. Difficult as it is for us to imagine, there were also people of faith who justified slavery. We know what happened: it took the bloodiest war in American history for us to do what Britain had done peacefully over thirty years earlier. But the outcome of that war, with the abolition of slavery, we took a baby step towards God’s reign of justice and righteousness. And what of now? “How is it that you don’t know how to interpret this present time?” What else needs to be set on fire? What are the evils in our own world that need our attention? To what else is Jesus pointing us? Dare we not notice what is happening in our world?

Change is difficult, painful, and sometimes destructive. Even so, God calls us to change so that God may accomplish God’s purposes, so that we may produce good fruit, and ultimately so that God’s kingdom of love and justice may be fully realized. Every time we pray, “Thy will be done on earth as in heaven,” we commit ourselves to being more attentive to where God is at work and to the tasks that God has appointed for us. O God, you call us to share your zeal for justice and righteousness. Give us courage to follow your servants and prophets and to look always to the perfecter of our faith, your Son, Jesus Christ.

1. Thanks to David Leininger in Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit for reminding me of the pertinence of the abolition of slavery to this Gospel reading.