St. Paul’s Church in
Bergen, Jersey City NJ
September 27, 2015
Year B, Proper 21:
The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Esther 7:1-6, 9-10;
9:20-22
Psalm 124
James 5:13-20
Mark 9:38-50
Imperfect Disciples
By
now most of you have heard me talk about how much I love weekday worship – and
how proud and thankful I am that, thanks to a small but faithful band of
worship leaders, we’ve managed to maintain our schedule of weekday services for
more than two years now.
I
can’t prove this, but I really believe that all of that worship, all of those
prayers echoing off of these old walls, bathing this room in prayer, have had a
powerful spiritual effect on all of us here at St. Paul’s, even if we’ve never
once come to church during the week.
One
of the reasons I love weekday worship is it gives me – gives us – a chance to
learn about some of the great Christians of the past. Our church calendar is
filled with what are called “Lesser Feasts,” days set aside to honor people,
both famous and obscure, who used their talents and energy to share the Good
News.
And
then there are the Major Feasts. On most of those days we honor people from the
New Testament – members of Jesus’ own original band of disciples. For example,
last week we celebrated the Feast of St. Matthew, the Apostle and Evangelist.
I
love learning about – and preaching about – these remarkable people.
To
be honest, sometimes I think there’s no way that you and I can really be like
them, really give away our lives for Christ.
But,
then, other times, I’m reminded that just like us, these holy women and men
were all too human.
Like
us, they were imperfect disciples.
And,
in our gospel lessons these past few weeks, we’ve been reminded just how
imperfect Jesus’ closest disciples could be.
Two
weeks ago we heard the story of Jesus predicting his arrest, death and
resurrection. You may remember that, out of love for his Lord and maybe some
anxiety about his own fate and the fate of the other disciples, Peter “rebuked”
Jesus, trying to convince Jesus to turn away from his mission, to avoid his
terrible and holy fate.
Imperfect
disciples.
And
then last Sunday, we heard Jesus predict his arrest, death, and resurrection a
second time.
This
time, disciples didn’t rebuke Jesus.
No,
instead, we’re told that they didn’t “understand” what Jesus was talking about
– that sounds a little too convenient to me - so they quickly changed the
subject, arguing among themselves about a very earthly, all too human subject: who
among them was the greatest.
Later,
the disciples are understandably embarrassed when Jesus asks them what it was
they were arguing about.
Imperfect
disciples.
And
now the imperfect disciples continue their streak in today’s gospel passage.
The
disciples report to Jesus that they saw someone casting out demons in Jesus’
name and they tried to stop him because he was not one of the twelve.
Somehow,
the imperfect disciples have gotten the idea that they have some kind of a
monopoly on Jesus – that only they should be licensed to teach and heal in the
name of Jesus.
Jesus,
of course, isn’t having any of it, telling the disciples that they should let
others do deeds of power in his name.
He
goes even further, opens the door even wider, saying, “Whoever is not against
us is for us.”
We’re
not told how the imperfect disciples respond to that. If they were smart, they
just kept silent.
The
first disciples – the men and women who knew Jesus in the flesh, who walked
with him, who heard his teaching, who witnessed his miracles – the holy women
and men who we remember on our church calendar were imperfect disciples.
And,
of course, we’re imperfect disciples, too.
We
make mistakes. We fall short. We’re imperfect – more imperfect than we’d
probably like to let on.
And,
obviously, that includes me, too.
These
last few days I’ve been even more aware of my imperfections than usual.
As
most of you know, about a month ago I accepted a position teaching Religion at
St. Peter’s Prep, my alma mater.
My
reasoning was that I could both continue to serve as your rector and also teach
full-time, that, in fact, teaching full-time would save the church enough money
that I could, in fact, continue to serve here.
I
have to tell you that my new classes and colleagues have been great. I’ve
really enjoyed being back in the classroom.
There’s
just one problem. In these first couple of weeks of classes I quickly realized
that I can’t do both jobs. I just don’t have enough time or energy to teach and
be parish priest. Or, at least, there’s not enough of me to do both of these
jobs as well as they must be done.
In
my imperfection, I over-estimated my own abilities.
So,
I realized I had to make a quick, difficult, decision or I was going to do real
damage either here or at school, or, most likely, both.
On
Monday, I met with the principal and told him that I had made a mistake and
that I couldn’t continue teaching at Prep. He was disappointed (and in a flash
I had created a headache for him and the school) but he understood and was very
gracious.
Friday
was my last day at school.
I
have to tell you that this was one of the most difficult decisions of my life –
and I’m really pretty sad about it – and I feel embarrassed that I made such a
major miscalculation.
Imperfect
disciple.
But,
of course, I’m in good company – we’re in good company. Christian history and
our church calendar are full of imperfect disciples.
The
good news is that God specializes in imperfect disciples, always reaching out
to us, calling us back, strengthening us, nudging us in the direction of
forgiveness and love.
And,
sure enough, this morning, yet again, God calls us back, reaches out to us,
nudges us, strengthens us, in and through the baptism of Andrew.
In
just a few minutes, right here, right back there at the font, in and through
the water of baptism, God will make an unbreakable bond with Andrew, this eight
year-old boy who told me - and in a moment will tell all of us - that he wants
to baptized.
In
and through the water of baptism, God will make an unbreakable, indissoluble,
bond with Andrew.
And,
this is the best news ever because we know that Andrew, like all of us, will be
an imperfect disciple.
Like
all of us he’ll do things he shouldn’t do – and won’t do things he should do.
Like
all of us, he won’t be as loving and forgiving as God calls to be.
He’ll
make mistakes that will create problems for others.
But,
no matter what, despite (or, maybe because of) all of his – and our –
imperfections, God never, ever, lets go of us.
So,
today we imperfect disciples get to welcome yet another imperfect disciple – we
get to welcome our young brother, Andrew – we get to welcome him to our imperfect
band.
Thanks
be to God.
Amen.
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