St. Paul’s Church in
Bergen, Jersey City NJ
November 15, 2015
Year B, Proper 28:
The Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
1 Samuel 1:4-20
The Canticle of
Hannah
Hebrews 10:11-25
Mark 13:1-8
Out of the Ruins, New Life!
In
my weekly email to the parish I wrote how Thanksgiving came early for me this
year.
As
many of you know or will soon find out I’ve been writing thank you notes to
everyone who has made a pledge of financial support to
St. Paul’s for 2016.
It’s
something I’ve thought about in the past but I always made excuses that I just
didn’t have enough time.
But,
after our vestry retreat a few weeks ago I resolved that this year I would do
it.
And,
although it has been time consuming, it has been such a gift to me each time
I’ve sat down to write my thank you notes, each time I’ve reflected on not just
your financial generosity – which is very important and amazing, of course –
but also the many ways that you give to our church.
I’m
glad to say that I’ve had to write a lot of thank you notes because our
stewardship campaign has been such a success, with most of you pledging – some
for the first time – and many increasing your pledges from last year – we’re almost where we hoped to be so I hope
you last holdouts will go “all in.”
We
truly depend on your pledges – and on you paying
your pledges – in order to do the many ministries that make this such a vibrant
and exciting church.
But,
you know, this church did not always raise money by asking parishioners to
pledge their support.
No,
back in the 19th Century, this church paid its bills by charging
what were called “pew rents,” which means exactly what it sounds like.
Each
year parishioners would rent their pew and that pew would be reserved for them
whenever they were in church – it’s why, I believe, our pews are numbered. It’s
a practice that is pretty much extinct in the church but lives on in some
synagogues, which raise funds that way.
Back
in the 19th Century not everybody at St. Paul’s thought that pew
rents were a good idea. In fact, some people felt so strongly about pew rents
that they broke away from St. Paul’s and formed a new church, St. John’s “Free”
Episcopal Church.
Eventually
they built a magnificent stone church over on Summit Avenue that about 100
years ago was known as the “Millionaires’ Church” and was the biggest Episcopal
church in the whole state.
Over
time, though, the membership of St. John’s shrank and in the 90s the church was
closed and, as many of you know, eventually the once magnificent building fell
into disrepair and became the crumbling ruin that can be seen today.
Today’s
gospel passage got me thinking about the ruin that is all that’s left of the
once-magnificent St. John’s Church.
We
pick up right where we left off last week right after Jesus and the disciples
have observed the poor widow drop her two small copper coins into the Temple
Treasury.
Jesus
and the disciples leave the Temple, which was the religious and civic center of
Jewish life – the place where, in a sense, God was believed to dwell – the
magnificent structure that was considered one of the marvels of the ancient
world.
They
leave the Temple and one of the disciples, sounding a lot like a country boy on
his first trip to the big city, says, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and
what large buildings!”
Jesus,
apparently unimpressed, responds with what must have been a shocking
prediction: “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here
upon another; all will be thrown down.”
And,
that’s exactly what happened. In the year 70, 40 or so years after Jesus’
earthly lifetime, the Romans destroyed the Temple – the place where, in a
sense, God was believed to dwell - burning it down, looting its treasures,
leaving just a ruin.
Today
all that remains is a large retaining wall, the Western Wall or the Wailing
Wall, where Jews pray to this very day.
It’s
probably hard for us to imagine how shocking, horrifying, terrifying, this must
have been to the Jews of the first century, including the Jews who were
followers of Jesus, the people who were some of the first readers and hearers
of Mark’s gospel.
What
was once a magnificent structure was now a ruin.
No
surprise, lots of people believed - and apparently some Christian leaders
proclaimed - that the destruction of the Temple meant that the end was at hand
and Jesus was about to return.
After
the Temple was destroyed, the people of Israel endured a time of, to use the
words of Hannah in today’s first lesson, “great anxiety and vexation.”
Ruined.
So
often, it feels like everything is ruined, doesn’t it?
Sometimes,
it feels like humanity itself is a ruin.
I
know all of us were horrified but, sadly, not shocked, by the terrorist attacks
in Paris on Friday night. Innocent people killed or injured while going about their
business, eating in a restaurant or attending a rock concert – lives lost and
ruined in a flash of violence.
Sometimes,
our own life can feel like a ruin.
Suddenly
we have a new and frightening pain or a lump, or we get a phone call heralding
bad news, or words are said that can’t be taken back, or a relationship gets
broken, or we find a pink slip waiting for us at work.
But,
in today’s gospel Jesus warns and promises that this great darkness, this time of great
anxiety, is not the end, but the beginning
of the birthpangs – not the end, but the beginning of the pains of new birth –
the pain of new life being born.
And,
Jesus was right.
Jesus
was right because God specializes in creating new life out of ruins.
Here’s
the thing: the Temple may have been destroyed but Judaism wasn’t. God gave the
people of Israel new life, freed from sacrifices in the Temple - new life,
loving and serving God, studying and reflecting on the Scriptures, anywhere and
everywhere.
And
growing up beside Judaism, not always comfortably or peacefully, was
Christianity - Christianity that took the Good News of Israel’s God to the ends
of the earth, the Good News of the Son of God to places far, far away from
Jerusalem.
And,
about Paris.
You
know, it wasn’t that long ago that much of Europe lay in ruins after the
horrors of World War II, a war fought bitterly between those old enemies,
France and Germany.
And
yet, out of the ruins of that horrific war a new, previously unthinkable,
friendship was born between those old enemies. In fact, I was struck by the
fact that when the attacks occurred France and Germany were battling it out
again, but this time on a soccer field.
And,
after the attacks, the chancellor of Germany said this to the French people:
“We, your German friends, we are so close with you. We are crying with you.”
God
specializes in creating new life out of ruins.
And,
God creates new life out of the ruins of our own lives, too.
As
a priest, I’ve been privileged to see it happen over and over again.
An
illness or some other crisis provides the opportunity for people to pour out so
much love and support, the opportunity to remember what’s most important.
A
broken relationship is healed through forgiveness, reconciliation, and a lot of
hard work.
The
pain and panic of unemployment make way for a reassessment of priorities, make
way for new opportunities and growth.
Yes,
God specializes in creating new life out of ruins.
Oh,
and about the ruin of St. John’s…
On
Thursday night the Jersey City Zoning Board approved Garden State Episcopal
CDC’s plan to build a 47 unit condominium development at St. John’s.
The
project will set aside some units for affordable housing and others at market
rate, and there will be much-needed new community space located inside what was
the nave of the church.
And
the entire exterior of the ruined church will be preserved and restored: it
will be magnificent once again.
Yes,
God specializes in creating new life out of ruins – new life out of ruined humanity
– new life out of the ruins of our lives – and, yes, even new life out of
ruined old churches.
Out
of the ruins, new life!
Thanks
be to God.
Amen.
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