St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD
May 8, 2022
Year C: The Fourth Sunday of Easter
Acts 9:36-43
Psalm 23
Revelation 7:9-17
John 10:22-30
The Holy Work of Restoration
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Just in case you had forgotten, our “Alleluias” are a reminder that, yes, it is still Easter, but, if you don’t mind, I’d like to begin today by looking back to Good Friday – to Good Friday in Jersey City.
Seven or eight years ago, some of us Jersey City Episcopalians looked for ways to get out of our church buildings, to somehow bring the church into the world, onto the streets of a city that, not unlike Baltimore, has pockets of prosperity along the edges but the core has been long neglected, resulting in much suffering.
One way we got out of our churches was by offering an outdoor Stations of the Cross service on Good Friday - a procession on foot through the streets of Jersey City that aimed to connect the long-ago suffering and death of Jesus to the suffering and death happening among our neighbors today.
Since there are 14 stations in the Stations of the Cross, I worked with the police department to identify 14 locations of violence that were close enough together that we could visit them all within about two hours.
As you’d guess, in some neighborhoods there were way more than 14 to choose from.
I would do my best to plan our route and then we invited clergy from across the city to participate with their congregations.
I’m still very proud that not only did we draw Mainline Protestants and Roman Catholics but also Evangelicals and Pentecostals, people who might have been unfamiliar with, or even suspicious of, rituals like the Stations of the Cross.
Each year my colleague The Rev. Laurie Wurm crafted and assembled beautiful prayers for us.
And then, on Good Friday morning, well over 100 of us gathered at the First Station. We carried a large wooden cross. And we began to recall the journey of Jesus through Jerusalem – and the suffering of our brothers and sisters in our own time and place.
Some of us carried t-shirts, each bearing the name of someone who had been murdered in Jersey City over the past year.
At each station, we’d recall the violence that had occurred there:
“At this place, a beloved brother was shot and killed.”
“At this place, a beloved sister was stabbed to death.”
At each station, someone would hammer yet another rusty nail into the large wooden cross, the startling sound echoing off the houses and apartment buildings.
Passersby would sometimes stop to watch, trying to make sense of what we were doing at those corners – in some of the roughest neighborhoods in the city, where the cracked sidewalks were often littered with shattered glass.
A few times somebody said to us something like:
“I was here when that happened.”
Or,
“He was my cousin.”
And here’s the part of the ritual that I think was most important, the part I especially want you to remember:
Before we moved onto the next station, one of the clergy would say a blessing and sprinkle Holy Water on this place that few if any people would ever describe as holy, and certainly not beautiful.
We symbolically washed away the sins of violence and destruction, rededicating this place as part of God’s good creation.
The holy work of restoration.
I thought back to those deeply meaningful Good Friday processions in Jersey City when I first began to reflect on today’s lesson from the Gospel of John.
Jesus is in the Jerusalem Temple and John notes that it is the Feast of the Dedication, the holiday that is better known to us by its name in Hebrew, Hanukkah.
In case you don’t know the story, in 167BC the Temple was profaned by pagan sacrifices.
Eventually the Jews under the leadership of Judah Maccabee were able to take back their capital city and went about cleansing, restoring, and, finally, rededicating the Temple.
Although they only had enough oil for one day, the lamps continued to burn throughout the eight days of the rededication.
And, of course, each Hanukkah our Jewish brothers and sisters continue to light their menorah candles, remembering and celebrating the holy work of restoration.
For us Christians, today is Good Shepherd Sunday, the day when we are invited to reflect on the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, and us as the sheep who hear his voice and follow him.
Unfortunately, just like on Good Friday, today’s gospel lesson paints a picture of division between Jesus and “the Jews,” tempting us to forget that Jesus and all his first followers – his first sheep – were Jews, tempting us to fall into the ugly sin of anti-Semitism, which continues to plague us.
So, once again, it’s important to remember that the Gospel began as a Jewish story. And it’s also important to remember that Jesus and all his first sheep lived during a very troubled time – they lived under brutal Roman occupation – a time when the first hint of dissent or rebellion was brutally crushed.
Jerusalem was stained by the blood of the crucified.
Yet, in the face of so much suffering, Jesus the Good Shepherd never calls us to take up weapons and fight fire with fire, and also never calls us to hide from the trouble.
No, in the face of suffering, Jesus the Good Shepherd leads us right into the places of pain and grief, right under the shadow of death.
Jesus the Good Shepherd calls us to continue the holy work of restoration.
In this morning’s first lesson, we heard that work continuing in and through Peter, who went to Joppa, who went right into a place of suffering and death, went right into a place of apparent hopelessness, and Peter restored faithful and generous Tabitha to life.
The holy work of restoration.
You know, probably the biggest challenge for me over these past ten months has been moving from a place I know better than any other to a place where, especially in the early weeks, I needed to use my GPS to go just about anywhere.
I’ve spent much of this time getting to know you and this beautiful place, and also learning about the ministries that are already underway in the County and in the City – places like the Community Crisis Center, Paul’s Place, and Viva House – the places where the holy work of restoration happens all the time.
Certainly a highlight of our first year together was our spectacular Easter Day, with all those people, all those flowers, all that music.
You may remember that I mentioned the Garden Club in my Easter sermon.
Well, apparently, if you preach about the Garden Club, they invite you to one of their events.
So, a couple of weeks ago, Sue and I were very pleased to head over to the Irvine Nature Center and see tables full of beautiful plants and flowers, many nurtured by our own parishioners, and we were also wowed by some remarkably creative artistic creations.
After looking at all that beauty, most of us crammed into a room where we encountered a different kind of beauty.
The Garden Club members and Sue and I heard an inspiring presentation about the remarkable grassroots project led by ReBUILD Metro that is slowly but surely transforming Johnston Square in Baltimore City from a place of vacant buildings, cracked sidewalks, and shattered glass into, well, a place restored to what it was always meant to be: part of God’s good creation.
And, it was so moving to hear the enthusiasm from the club members, eager to use their considerable skills and resources to help restore this long neglected little corner of God’s garden.
As far as I know, there hasn’t been any Holy Water involved – at least, not yet.
The holy work of restoration.
I don’t need to tell you that in so many ways things look pretty bleak these days, but in the face of so much trouble, Jesus the Good Shepherd calls us into the places of pain and grief, right under the shadow of death, inviting us, with God’s help, to continue the holy work of restoration.
May it be so.
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen.
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