St. Paul’s Church in
Bergen, Jersey City NJ
Church of the
Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
July 12, 2015
Year B, Proper 10:
The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
2 Samuel 6:1-5,
12b-19
Psalm 24
Ephesians 1:3-14
Mark 6:14-29
Shadows
Many
of you have heard me say how much I love weekday worship – how important it is
for my own spiritual health.
One
of the things that makes me happiest about my time at St. Paul’s so far is the
fact that we’ve been able to maintain a regular schedule of weekday services
for about two years now.
Week
in and week out, thanks to a small band of dedicated lay people, we offer our
three regularly scheduled services – sometimes well-attended, sometimes not, it
doesn’t matter.
And
we also celebrate the Eucharist on all of the major feasts of the church year.
I
love the major feasts when we can focus on – reflect on – the lives and the
faith of the apostles and also specific incidents in the life of Jesus – people
and moments that we’re not able to give so much attention to here on Sunday.
For
example, every May 31 we celebrate one of my most favorite feast days – the
Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
Every
May 31 we get a little taste of Christmas when we remember the story told by
Luke of the Virgin Mary – who has just said yes to the awesome news presented to
her by the Angel Gabriel – Mary has just said yes to God – has just said yes to
carrying God into the world in a new and unique way.
On
the Feast of the Visitation we remember the story of the miraculously pregnant
Mary hurrying to a Judean town in the hill country to visit her cousin
Elizabeth who, it turns out, is having her own miraculous pregnancy – pregnant
in her old age.
Luke
tells us that Mary is miraculously pregnant with Jesus and Elizabeth is
miraculously pregnant with John the Baptist.
Remember
the story?
Mary
enters the house, calling out a greeting, and the unborn John the Baptist leaps
in Elizabeth’s womb.
Elizabeth
cries out words familiar to every Catholic, “Blessed are you among women, and
blessed is the fruit of your womb!”
And
Mary replies with her own song – her song of joy and revolution – the Maginificat:
“My
souls magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…”
“He
has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he
has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich empty away.”
The
Visitation.
A
little bit of Christmas at the end of May.
It’s
a joyful scene – two women miraculously pregnant, sharing the joy and wonder of
new life.
But,
of course there are shadows hovering over this joyous scene, as well.
Mary
and Elizabeth don’t know it – though they may have had their suspicions since
throughout Jewish history prophets often found themselves in difficulty, often
lived hard lives.
Mary
and Elizabeth don’t know it but we know that John and Jesus are linked not only
through kinship. They are linked not only by their common message of
repentance. John and Jesus are also linked through the violent deaths that await
them both.
The
shadow of death hovers over this scene of joy.
Shadows.
In
today’s gospel lesson the shadows grow very dark indeed when hear the ultimate
fate of Elizabeth’s son, John the Baptist.
The
court of Herod Antipas, ruler of Galilee, puppet of the Roman Empire, was a
shadowy place, full of intrigue and plotting and boasting and death.
The
court of Herod Antipas was a shadowy place – where promises were made that
shouldn’t have been made – promises that definitely shouldn’t have been kept.
Herod swore to the dancing girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give
it. Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.”
Instead
of half of his kingdom the girl follows her mother’s orders and asks gruesomely
for the head of the prophet John the Baptist on a platter.
Herod
isn’t amoral, though. He knows the shadow of shame – he knows what he’s about
to do is wrong - but the shadow of insecurity – the desire to save face at all
cost wins the day and John was beheaded.
John
the Baptist – that wild prophet who called the people to repentance and called
out the religious establishment – that courageous prophet who challenged Herod
about his unlawful marriage – that cousin of Jesus – he knew about shadows too
– he knew the shadow of the executioner raising the blade above his head – the
shadow of death hovering quite literally above him.
Of
course, as we heard today, the shadow of guilt continued to hover over Herod –
and when he heard about what Jesus is doing he knows the shadow of dread – he
declares - wrongly - “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”
Shadows.
We
know all about shadows, don’t we?
Even
in our most joyful moments when, like Mary and Elizabeth long ago, we celebrate
miraculous new life – when we celebrate a pregnancy or a birth – when we
celebrate a new relationship – when we celebrate falling in love or making a
new friend – when we celebrate reconnecting with someone we thought we had lost
– when we celebrate a new job or a new opportunity – even in our most joyful
moments there are always shadows hovering around us, aren’t there?
Shadows.
The
shadows of illness and death – the shadows of separation or divorce – the
shadows of misunderstandings and words that can’t ever be taken back – the
shadows of downsizing, layoffs, unemployment, unpaid bills – these shadows are hovering
all around us.
And
out there in the world the shadows of racism and unspeakable violence darken
the lives of so many both here in our city and our country and all around the
world – from Jersey City to Charleston to Yemen.
When
the first Christians reflected on the story of the brutal death of John the
Baptist they saw foreshadowing - foreshadowing of the brutal death faced by
Jesus.
Once
again, a weak political ruler – in this case, Pontius Pilate – knew he was
doing the wrong thing – knew that he was going to take the life of an innocent
man – but the shadows of insecurity – the shadows of power and saving face no
matter the cost – won the day.
Or…
seemed to have won the day.
Hanging
on the cross, Jesus knew all about shadows – the shadows of betrayal,
abandonment, pain, fear and death.
Good
Friday was the most shadowy of day of all.
But,
because of Easter, the first Christians also knew that God’s light is brighter
than any shadow – that life defeats death – that perfect love casts out any and
all shadows.
So,
yes, like I said, the major feasts are great – and I love celebrating them. I
wish everybody could celebrate them with us.
But,
you know, each Sunday we celebrate the greatest of all feasts – each Sunday we
come together here to celebrate a little Easter – a little Easter in July - each
Sunday we come here with all of our shadows of fear and death – we come here to
celebrate Easter – to allow God’s light to brighten our shadows – we come here
to get a little taste of the new life that awaits us – we come here and
experience foreshadowing of miraculous new life – new life where there are no
shadows at all.
So…let’s
have a little Easter in July:
Alleluia!
Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen!