The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
October 4, 2020
Year A, Proper 22: The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20
Psalm 19
Philippians 3:4b-14
Matthew 21:33-46
Endurance
I haven’t looked back at my sermons from the past six months, but I think I’ve begun about half of them by saying something like, “Well, this has been a very difficult week.”
And, sure enough, here we are this morning – and, once again, it has been a very difficult week.
It was a week that ended with sobering images of the President, infected with the virus that has sickened and killed so many, slowly making his way from the White House to the helicopter that flew him to the hospital – leaving open lots of questions about his future, the future of many in his administration and party, and the future of our country.
And here in our own lives and in our own community, this week some have lost loved ones, others have undergone surgery and now face a long recuperation, some are still unemployed and others wonder how long they’ll be able to hold onto their jobs.
Meanwhile, teachers and students are still at it, trying to somehow teach and learn through screens. And, as always, those who have plenty of resources will probably do just fine, while those without will fall ever further behind.
It has been a very difficult week.
It has been a very difficult year.
And what is yet to come?
So, last Sunday feels like about a month ago – but last Sunday, during our virtual “coffee hour” with Bishop Hughes, it was so moving and heartening to hear many of you talk about what has been keeping you going during these tough days.
I was so glad and relieved that our Sunday services here on Facebook and our weekday services on the phone have been important lifelines.
They’ve been important to me, too.
As I said during coffee hour, I set up the phone services for you but they’ve sustained me as much anybody else.
There are two other practices that have kept me going
One, which you’ve heard me talk about a million times, is my morning walk in Lincoln Park.
Right after Morning Prayer, I scoot out the door and aim to walk for about 90 minutes. During that time, I pray or just I let my mind wander. I try to keep my eyes open for signs of God’s grace and God’s presence – these days I see it in the changing season, the leaves shading from green to red and brown – and I take a picture or two for the “Fall Festival” I’ve been posting on Facebook.
And, during my walks, I see God’s grace and presence in the people around me – often the same people at the same time, in the same place, doing the same things.
There’s the older couple, always walking hand in hand as they listen to tinny music from a transistor radio.
There’s the man, bent with age, pushing his walker, determined to keep going.
On the track, there are the high school and college kids, young and strong and fast, delighted to race their teammates, preparing to run for real against their competitors.
And, there are the serious runners, often wearing shirts from marathons they’ve participated in, who easily lap me several times, straining to achieve goals known only to themselves.
So, these morning walks have kept me going.
And, also, as I mentioned in my weekly message, I’ve renewed my old friendship with reading.
Most mornings, I’ve been getting up even earlier than usual and trying to spend about a quiet hour or so, just reading. It took a while to regain my attention span, which was partially fried by social media and life’s distractions, but this morning reading time has been a huge help.
Last week, I read a book about St. Paul – one of my favorite saints, not just because of our church’s name, but because he’s so human – capable of great faith and courage but also sometimes jealous and insecure and frustrated and angry.
In his letters, Paul sometimes describes a faithful life as an athletic competition, especially as a race – a race that we run toward the goal of life with God forever.
We heard that imagery right at the end of today’s passage from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians. Paul writes:
“…forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal of the heavenly goal of God in Christ Jesus.”
St. Paul is a model of endurance – faced with so many setbacks and disappointments he kept going, he kept running the race that was set before him, trusting that Christ was with him and that Christ would give him the strength that he needed to reach his goal.
Endurance.
Just like Paul, you and I are called to endure, to run the race that is set before us.
And, just like Paul, Christ is with us, too, giving us the strength that we need to reach our goal.
As Bishop Hughes said last week in her sermon, God has already given us everything that we need.
We have all that we need to endure.
And, we don’t need to believe that because of what St. Paul wrote two thousand years ago, and we don’t need to believe it because of what the bishop preached last week.
During these terrible months, we have seen it with our own eyes.
We have experienced and displayed endurance.
Still don’t believe it?
Well, for years we talked about figuring out a way to live-stream our services, but when the pandemic struck and we had to close our doors, my tech support here pulled everything together in just a few days – and we’ve continued to refine our online worship ever since.
When I arrived here a little more than seven years ago, one of my goals was to eventually offer at least one worship service every day of the week. As most of you know, for years we had three regularly scheduled services, but doing anything more than that just seemed beyond our reach. But, when the pandemic struck, we quickly began gathering on the phone – a lot of us - three times a day, Monday through Friday. And, there’s at least one person out there who’s been pushing us to expand to Saturdays, too!
And, maybe even more amazing, our outreach ministries have not only endured, but they’ve grown!
The Triangle Park Community Center buzzes with activity almost every day. There, in that long neglected neighborhood, people find a place of welcome, a place to grab a sandwich or a cup of coffee. Two weeks ago the food pantry served 179 families – 366 adults and 214 kids. Our center is a place where kids are able to do their schoolwork, and soon an SAT Prep class will begin. Parents are able to get much-needed diapers and formula, items that are so expensive in stores. And the clothes and books that are on racks, right out there on Old Bergen Road, help people to stay decently dressed and intellectually stimulated.
Meanwhile, Deacon Jill’s DJ Free Market continues to receive from those who have and share with those who do not – and they’ve partnered with lots of other wonderful organizations in town. And, as I announced last Sunday, The Lighthouse 2 will soon open in its new Union City location – offering a warm welcome to asylees and refugees, people who have been made to feel most unwelcome in or country over the past few years.
And, we have endured in smaller, quieter ways, too.
It’s not really safe for us to serve lunch at Garden State Episcopal’s homeless drop-in center, but last week Sonia prepared a mountain of sandwiches that were brought over there to feed our poorest and hungriest sisters and brothers.
And, I think, in a strange and mysterious way, during this time when we’ve been forced to be apart we have somehow grown closer together.
There’s more reaching out going on – more phone calls made – more handwritten cards dropped in the mail.
I know at least one person spent quite a bit of time ahead of the bishop’s visit helping other parishioners learn how to use Zoom, doing her best to make sure that everyone felt included on that special day.
And, finally, at the end of this pretty terrible week, our old, taped-together church boiler was disassembled and removed from the basement, and the new one is here – still mostly in pieces but soon to be assembled and ready to provide warmth for whenever we can all return to this holy place.
Because we know that our race is not over yet.
So, yes, this has been such a hard time, yet another difficult week.
And, no doubt, there are more hard times and difficult weeks ahead.
But, like that old man bent by age, pushing his walker through the park every morning – and like all of the good teachers determined to somehow reach their students even through screens - and like St. Paul traveling all over to share the Good News with as many people as he could – we will run the race that is set before us.
Christ is with us, giving us all that we need, promising that, no matter how bad things look, we will endure.
Amen.
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