The Final Frontier

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

May 28, 2023

Year A: The Day of Pentecost

Acts 2:1-21

Psalm 104:25-35, 37

1 Corinthians 12:3b-13

John 20:19-23

The Final Frontier

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

        Today we arrive at the fiftieth day after Easter – the great feast of Pentecost - the day when we remember and celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit – God at work in the world and in the Church - the gift that transformed fearful disciples into bold apostles – the gift that propelled Jesus’ friends out of hiding and into the streets – out into the world – proclaiming the best news of all time in a language that everybody could understand:

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

You may have noticed that today’s lessons actually give us two Pentecost stories.

In addition to the loud and fiery account in the Acts of the Apostles, there’s also the quieter but no less powerful passage I just read from the Gospel of John.

In John’s telling, Easter and Pentecost are essentially one event: the Risen Christ appears to the frightened disciples and breathes the Holy Spirit on them – giving them power and authority and, most of all, courage to leave fear behind and head out into the world proclaiming the Good News:

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Rather than being troubled by the apparent contradictions, I think it’s great that we have these two Pentecost stories – they tell us something important about the Holy Spirit:

The Spirit sometimes acts in big and loud ways – and sometimes the Spirit acts with just a whisper.

But in both cases, the Spirit propels us out into the world, out to the frontier.

Many of the first disciples fanned out, sharing the Good News – an ancient tradition claims that our own patron, the Apostle Thomas, brought the Gospel all the way to India – and we know that Peter and Paul made it to Rome where they sacrificed their lives for Jesus.

And Christians have been bringing the Gospel to the frontier ever since.

Here at St. Thomas’, this year it felt like Pentecost arrived a few days early.

First, on Wednesday, we celebrated the Feast of Jackson Kemper, the Episcopal Church’s first Missionary Bishop, a man who was propelled by the Holy Spirit to bring the gospel to what was then the American frontier and what is today the Midwest. 

For reasons you’ll understand in a moment, Kemper makes me feel like a total slacker.

Jackson Kemper was born in Upstate New York in 1789, was baptized at Trinity Church Wall Street, graduated from what was then Columbia College (He was the valedictorian) and then was ordained a priest at age 23.

From just about the start, he was a missionary – first to western Pennsylvania and Virginia, and eastern Ohio.

After he was elected Missionary Bishop in 1835, the Holy Spirit propelled Kemper even farther afield – to Indiana, Missouri, Wisconsin, Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, and Minnesota.

For years he traveled throughout the West. He had to bring everything he needed, and endured all sorts of discomforts and challenges.

Bishop Kemper managed to organize six dioceses, consecrated nearly 100 churches, confirmed about 10,000 people, and ordained more than 200 priests and deacons to serve all those newborn churches.

He was way ahead of his time in encouraging lay ministry. 

Kemper was especially interested in sharing the Gospel with Native Americans, encouraging the translation of the Bible into local languages, and even lifting up indigenous people for ministry.

Oh, and he founded a seminary in Wisconsin called Nashotah House, which is still in operation.

After Kemper “retired” from missionary work, he was elected Bishop of Wisconsin and he served in that role until his death in 1870, at the age of 80.

I can’t talk about Kemper and his work without mentioning the complicated and often painful and tragic history of the Church and Native Americans: other Christian missionaries – including Episcopalians - often disrespected local culture and the boarding schools they founded were frequently sites of unspeakable abuse. 

But, I wanted to share with you the story of Bishop Kemper because, just like the Holy Spirit propelled the first disciples to the frontier, the Holy Spirit propelled Jackson Kemper to the frontier.

And, today, I believe the Holy Spirit is propelling us to the frontier – sometimes loudly and sometimes quietly.  

But today the frontier is not Wisconsin – the frontier is not necessarily someplace far away.

No, today the frontier – the final frontier, you might say – is right next door, or across the street, or the office down the hall.

Although I failed in my attempts to line up a Baptism for today, we did have a most joyful Baptism last week, when, young Charles Joseph Worthington was plunged into the depths and rose again to begin his new life with Christ.

As we do at every Baptism, we renewed our Baptismal Covenant – including our promise, with God’s help, to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.

And we do that not in some far off place but right here and now – in our daily lives – at frontier posts like school, work, the club, the supermarket, or even Blakehurst.

On the Feast of Jackson Kemper it felt like Pentecost had arrived early – and it also felt like an early Pentecost last Sunday evening when Wanda, along with just about the whole choir and I, went to Blakehurst – a local retirement community – to offer a Vespers service.

Now, when this was first proposed months ago, I thought, great idea!

After all, I love an active church!

But, last Sunday we had a very full day – the Baptism, honoring graduates and our lay leaders, Rogation Sunday walking tours of the campus, our usual three services.

I managed to squeeze in only a very abbreviated Sunday afternoon nap.

And so, by the time I was driving over to Blakehurst for our 7:30 pm service, I was tired and wondering how this was going to go. I was having second thoughts about the whole thing.

I’m no Jackson Kemper!

But then, our choir members began to arrive – and not just a few of them, as I had sort of expected – but almost everybody – they had had a long day, too – but they found the time and energy to head to the frontier and bring the Holy Spirit to about 30 of the residents who attended.

For the most part, these were people who can’t get to church any longer – and I loved watching them make their way into the meeting room and seeing their surprise that the choir was here – their wonder and delight that we had brought the beauty and love of God to them.

And their eyes lit up and their faces beamed as the choir began to sing – proclaiming the Good News in a language everybody could understand.

Oh yes, last week, Pentecost arrived early.

Despite our tiredness and uncertainty and maybe even nervousness, the Holy Spirit propelled us to the final frontier – just a short trip over to Blakehurst, where with people who might sometimes feel ignored or even forgotten, we proclaimed by word and example - and, most of all song - we proclaimed the Good News of God in Christ:

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Amen.

Holy Weaving

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

May 21, 2023

Rogation Sunday

Deuteronomy 11:10-15

Psalm 147:1-13

Romans 8:18-25

Mark 4:26-32

Holy Weaving

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

This past Thursday morning, a faithful little band of parishioners gathered in the Old School Building for Morning Prayer.

We do this every week, but this particular Thursday was different because, in our modest but beautiful way, we were observing one of the great feasts of the church year: Ascension Day.

Set forty days after Easter, on Ascension Day we remember that the Risen Christ entered heaven.

This is one part of our faith that troubles a lot of modern people – a line in the Creed that many of us try to say without giving it too much thought. After all, unlike people two thousand years ago, we have a pretty good idea of what’s up there.

On the other hand, over and over, science has shown that reality is way more complex and downright weirder than we had thought – in the universe things are not always as they seem, and there’s so much we just don’t know.

Anyway, setting aside our modern skepticism, the Ascension is both beautiful and important:

Our brother Jesus – not just his spirit, but his body – has entered heaven.

Among other things, the Ascension reminds us that the here and now – the physical world, all of it, very much including our flesh and blood, is of infinite and eternal value – beloved by God.

This should not come as news to us because God’s love for the world runs through our entire tradition.

At the beginning, God declared the creation to be good – not just good but very good.

And God sent Jesus into the world not to condemn the world but because God loves the world and wants to save it – all of it.

God wants to restore and renew the world – not just once but over and over again.

Many of us have experienced this holy restoration and renewal in our own lives – times when all hope seems to be lost and yet we find unexpected grace and strength and love.

And if we take the time to look around, we can see that God has woven restoration and renewal right into the fabric of creation.

For example, you may remember that about a month ago there was a frightening and destructive wildfire over at Soldier’s Delight, a nature preserve not far from here. The fire forced neighbors to evacuate their homes for a time, a fire that required the skill and courage of many firefighters to extinguish.

There was a lot of initial sadness and concern about the loss of wildlife, but did you see what happened almost immediately? Native plants and grasses began to sprout. God’s renewal and restoration is now well underway.

Just one example of how God has woven restoration and renewal right into the fabric of creation.

Today we are celebrating Rogation Sunday – the name comes from a Latin word meaning “to ask.” On Rogation days, we ask God to bless our land – and we get reminded that we are called not to rule over the earth but to care for it – to be good stewards of all that has been entrusted to us.

God has woven restoration and renewal right into the fabric of creation.

And God invites us to assist with this holy weaving.

And, even when creation has taken a beating by our pollution and neglect, if we do our part as God’s assistant weavers, well, the results are just astonishing.

Like, just a couple of weeks ago, there was a story in the paper that otters have been seen frolicking in the increasingly clean Jones Falls, near Mt. Washington, within the Baltimore city limits.

Otters!

This wonderful return of the otters didn’t just happen, of course – it’s the result of people – including some of our people - fighting the good fight to clean the streams that flow into the falls, to address toxic runoff, to work as God’s assistant weavers, renewing and restoring creation.

The other day, I read about an amazing park in Berlin, Germany that perfectly illustrates this holy partnership between God and us. 

After a once busy rail yard was abandoned, hundreds of species of plants and animals, including many that were endangered, moved right in. This renewal on what must have been heavily polluted land was totally unplanned, which has made it biologically diverse and amazingly successful.

And now, people care for this spontaneous park. They’ve constructed elevated walkways so that visitors can enjoy the beauty of the park without disturbing the plants and animals that thrive there.

God has woven restoration and renewal right into the fabric of creation. And God invites us to assist with this holy weaving.

In my nearly two years here, I seem to have developed a reputation as someone who likes the church to be busy.

I prefer “active,” but I’ll own that.

But when I first realized all that we had packed into today – Rogation Sunday, the Baptism of young Charles Joseph Worthington, the recognition of our graduates (over 20 of them!), and the opportunity for some of our lay leaders to add their signatures to the book that has been signed by leaders of this church stretching all the way back to the 1700’s, and this evening the choir and I are going to Blakehurst to offer a Vespers service – when I realized all that we had packed into today, well, even I thought that maybe we were overdoing it!

But as I reflected on all this wonderful activity, I thought, you know, there is a whole lot of holy weaving going on here at St. Thomas’.

The people of this church have always cared for this land but in recent years we’ve been even more intentional about looking at our environmental impact and taken steps - like planting trees - toward being better stewards – small steps, maybe, but we know that God specializes in starting as small as a mustard seed and growing something amazing.

Baptism is the sacrament of renewal. The way we do it here is very elegant and refined but make no mistake, in the water of Baptism, Charles will go down to the depths and rise again, starting out on a new life with Christ, invited by God to be an assistant weaver, and guided by all of us along the way.

And, whatever their age and no matter what degree they’ve earned, graduates are meant to use their learning not just to better themselves to but to serve others, doing their part, with God’s help, to weave back together what has been ripped apart by suffering, ignorance, and greed.

And music – does anything renew our hearts better than beautiful music sung by people with faith and love and so much talent?

And our leaders – we are incredibly blessed by generous, dedicated, and wise leaders – our leaders have signed up to do some serious weaving here at St. Thomas’ – weaving together our increasingly diverse strands, helping to create an even stronger fabric, strong enough to endure whatever the future may bring.

My goodness – this is a lot – but I hear God speaking through all of it.

Because God loves the world. 

God has woven restoration and renewal right into the fabric of creation. And God invites Charles, and all of us, to assist with this holy weaving.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Amen.

The Spirit of Truth Empowers Us to Do God's Will

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

May 14, 2023

Year A: The Sixth Sunday of Easter

Acts 17:22-31

Psalm 66:7-18

1 Peter 14:15-21

John 14:15-21

The Spirit of Truth Empowers Us to Do God’s Will

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Today is the Sixth Sunday of Easter – yes, it is still Easter – and in today’s gospel lesson we pick up right where we left off last week.

You may remember that last Sunday we looked back to Holy Week – back to the Last Supper – back to when Jesus gathered with his friends for what sure seemed like their last meal together.

Around the table, Jesus teaches a few final, most important, lessons – he washes the feet of his friends and says this is how it should be among them – among us – love one another, he commands.

He blesses the bread and the wine and says he will be with us each time we gather around the table, each time we remember him.

And, as we heard last week, Jesus promises that he will bring us to the place of reunion – and that we know the way to the place because Jesus himself is the Way.

And Jesus teaches that he and the Father are one – so when we see and know Jesus, we see and know God.

That must have been quite a lot to take in during that particular supper in Jerusalem, as the walls seemed to be closing in, and it felt like hope itself was about to be extinguished.

In today’s memory from the Last Supper, Jesus looks to the future – not the future we will share in the place of reunion – but the immediate future, when the first disciples will be in the same boat as the rest of us, no longer able to see and hear and know Jesus in the flesh, at least not like before.

Jesus reminds the disciples that loving Jesus means following his commandments – and Jesus’ only commandments are to love God and to love our neighbor as our self. 

Not easy, and only possible with God’s help.

And so Jesus gives a Pentecost preview, promising to send the Holy Spirit – promising that the Spirit of truth will forever be by our side, guiding us during all of the challenges and troubles of our lives.

So, today it’s still Easter - but it’s almost Pentecost.

In last week’s sermon, I mentioned in passing that a friend of mine – an Episcopal priest named Gary Commins – has a new book out.

It’s called Evil and the Problem of Jesus.

Although I finished it about a month ago, I keep thinking about it and looking over the notes that I took – a sign of a good book, I’d say!

Early in his book, Gary makes a point that had never occurred to me exactly. Although once I read it – and once you hear it – it seems plainly obvious.

Gary writes, “In the Lord’s Prayer, we ask – we pray – for God’s will to be ‘done.’ Empirically and prayerfully, our hearts, minds, and senses tell us that God’s will is not done…”

I’m going to repeat that:

“In the Lord’s Prayer, we ask – we pray – for God’s will to be to be ‘done.’ Empirically and prayerfully, our hearts, minds, and senses tell us that God’s will is not done…”

That’s for sure, right?

All we need is to spend a minute or two watching TV news, or just glancing at the front page of today’s newspaper, or taking a good look at our own community, and maybe even our own lives, to know that, all too often, God’s will is not done.

I think this tells us something important about God.

God does not – and maybe even cannot – impose God’s will on us – as much as God might like to do just that for our own good.

Instead, like a loving mother or father, God does God’s best to give us the gifts we need so we can flourish, all the tools we need to do our part in restoring God’s Garden to the beauty and peace that was always intended.

And one of the greatest of God’s gifts is the Holy Spirit – the Spirit of Truth – empowering us to do God’s will.

I met my friend Gary when he was called to serve as Priest-in-Charge of the Church of the Incarnation, which was one of the last three Episcopal churches in Jersey City.

Incarnation was founded in 1910 to be the Episcopal church for the Black Episcopalians of Jersey City.

You see, back then, Black people were not welcomed at any of the other Episcopal churches in the city – including at my future church, St. Paul’s – which was just five or six blocks away from Incarnation – a painful and shameful example of the church most definitely not doing God’s will.

Throughout the 20th Century and into the 21st, the different Episcopal churches in Jersey City developed their own identities and pursued their own ministries, sometimes competing with each other and often having as little as possible to do with each other.

By the time Sue and I arrived at St. Paul’s in 2000, things had changed. Everyone was welcome. And the church had become wonderfully diverse, with people of many colors – it was one of the reasons we fell in love with the place.

But history is a stubborn thing.

I returned to Jersey City and became rector of St. Paul’s ten years ago, right around the same time that that the third Episcopal church in Jersey City also welcomed its new rector, the Rev. Laurie Wurm.

Early on, the bishop sat us both down and told us not to compete with each other. He said that we should work together, and that we should build a relationship with the people of Incarnation, which was without a priest at the time.

And so that’s what we did – finding ways to worship together in the park and at street corners, getting the three vestries together to meet each other, to pray and to learn. 

Because St. Paul’s was so physically close to Incarnation, I took on much of their pastoral care – making hospital visits and presiding at funerals – and over time the people of Incarnation began to feel like they were my parishioners, too.

I had come to hope that maybe something new and beautiful was about to be born.

Gary Commins arrived in Jersey City, at Incarnation, a few years after Laurie and me, and he quickly became part of the team – we did even more together, praying at places of violence, opening a community center in a long-neglected neighborhood, and beginning to look into some of the shameful parts of our history.

Over time, the bonds of love and trust grew among the three churches, not perfectly, of course, but it was real and it was beautiful.

And when the day came for the Church of the Incarnation to decide on its future, they courageously and faithfully overcame a century or so of bad history and deep hurt, and they voted to unite with St. Paul’s, and we became the Church of St. Paul and Incarnation.

One Sunday, the Bishop visited us, leading the people of Incarnation to about the halfway point between our churches, where the people of St. Paul’s were waiting. And together, we processed the rest of the way to our new church home.

Now, a few years later, you can’t really tell who was an “Incarnation person” and who was a “St. Paul’s person.”

That unification is probably what I’m most proud of in my ministry.

God did not impose God’s will – God did not do the hard work for us – but God gave us the gifts we needed to flourish – the tools we needed to do our part in restoring that little urban corner of God’s garden to the beauty and peace that was always intended.

In my nearly two years with you here, I have seen and felt the Spirit of truth blowing through this old place more times than I can count.

The Spirit inspires us to welcome everybody, from Afghan refugees to the newcomers walking over that well-worn threshold for the first time, hoping to find welcome and good news.

The Spirit encourages us to be even more generous than we thought possible.

The Spirit calls us to take on new ministries.

And the Spirit reassures us that this historic church has a future far more beautiful and amazing than we can imagine.

Because God does not impose God’s will, but like a loving mother or father, God does God’s best to give us all that we need.

And one of the greatest of God’s gifts is the Holy Spirit – the Spirit of Truth – empowering us to do God’s will.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Amen.

Joining God in the Neighborhood

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

May 7, 2023

Year A: The Fifth Sunday of Easter

Acts 7:55-60

Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16

1 Peter 2:2-10

John 14:1-14

Joining God in the Neighborhood

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

I guess about six years ago, my former diocese in New Jersey – the Diocese of Newark – started a new effort called, “Going Local.”

As part of “Going Local, “ the then-Bishop, Mark Beckwith, spent a summer visiting various churches in the diocese.

These were not official visits – there wasn’t any of the usual fanfare around an episcopal visit – there wasn’t even a service. Instead, the Bishop came by on a weekday afternoon and met with a group of parishioners.

When he came to my church in Jersey City, we sat in a circle in the chancel.

We read and heard a passage of Scripture, and reflected on what God might be saying to us – individually and as a community.

We talked about what was going on in the church – the kinds of ministries we offered and the challenges we faced.

And then, we went out on a walking tour of the neighborhood, trying to keep our eyes, ears, and hearts open to signs of God’s presence and ways that we might be of better service to - and with - the community. 

Finally, the Bishop took us out for dinner at a local restaurant. And as we sat around the table, we talked about what we had seen and heard.

As you know, I’m actually from Jersey City and, I admit, I prided myself on knowing my way around – my father once told me that I drove like a taxi driver – it was a compliment, I think.

I prided myself on knowing lots of people and being known by lots of people in the neighborhood. 

But as we walked around, the Bishop saw our community with fresh eyes and asked us questions – “What goes on in the building?” “Have you ever met the pastor of this church that’s just a couple of blocks away from yours?” – questions that I couldn’t answer very satisfactorily at all.

The idea of “Going Local” was that, while God is certainly here in church, God is also very much out there in the world – out in the community – out in the neighborhood.

And so, we need to get out there to discover what God might be up to in our neighborhood.

I was reminded of “Going Local” when I reflected on today’s gospel lesson.

Today is the Fifth Sunday of Easter – yes, it’s still Easter – but, maybe surprisingly and confusingly, today’s gospel takes us back before the first Easter, back to Holy Week, back to Jesus’ last supper with his disciples and friends.

By the time of the Last Supper, even the notoriously slow-to-get-it disciples were realizing the hard truth that Jesus – the One they had come to know and love as Lord – Jesus was going to die.

In the first half of today’s lesson, Jesus tries to reassure his friends that this won’t be the end of our story – that Jesus will bring them – and us – to the place of reunion. 

And, not only that, Jesus says we know the way to the place of reunion.

Apparently, Thomas was the only one brave and honest enough to say, “Lord, we do not the know way.”

And Jesus says, “I am the way.”

That passage is probably familiar to many of us because it’s the gospel lesson we almost always read at funerals.

But then, in the second half of today’s lesson, we have an extraordinary exchange between Jesus and Philip.

Right after Jesus says, “If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him” – right after that, Philip, missing more than a couple of beats, Philip says:

“Lord, show us the Father and we will be satisfied.”

And a probably somewhat exasperated Jesus responds with words almost too bold for Philip and us to understand or believe.

Right there at the Last Supper, Jesus boldly proclaims the mind-blowing truth of incarnation – since God the Father and Jesus the Son are one, when we see Jesus, we see God.

Or, as my friend Gary Commins writes in his new book, “To see Jesus is to see God’s work and God’s face. To experience Jesus is to behold God.”

Or, as Eugene Peterson translates John 1:14:

“The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.”

“The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.”

In and through Jesus, God has moved into the neighborhood, right into the joys and sorrows and messiness of our neighborhood.

That’s what love looks like.

And God invites us – calls us - to join God in the neighborhood.

Joining God in the neighborhood.

One of the personal and professional challenges I’ve faced in the nearly two years I’ve been here is that it’s kind of difficult to get to know this particular neighborhood.

Back In Jersey City, I was able to walk out the door and see all sorts of people, familiar faces and strangers.

On just about every walk to the post office or the bank or the pizzeria, I was stopped by someone who wanted to greet me and chat for a bit, or talk about some challenge they were facing, or to ask me for help.

Sometimes that was joyful and sometimes, honestly, it was annoying and frustrating, especially if I was tired or hungry or in a hurry.

But, you know, it wasn’t hard to join God in that neighborhood.

Here in my new situation, I can’t walk past the end of the rectory driveway without risking my life to people speeding along St. Thomas Lane. 

Even after almost two years, I still haven’t met any of our immediate neighbors.

I’ve thought about it, but the only way would be driving over and knocking on their door. That doesn’t really appeal to me, especially now. 

Of course, sometimes “the neighborhood” comes to us.

A couple of Sundays ago, after the 10:00 service, two men showed up here separately – one said he’s been living in his car and the other had a tale of woe that sounded very Jersey City-like – both came here hoping and looking for some peace and kindness – and I hope they found it.

I think so.

And, the lack of walkability certainly hasn’t stopped some St. Thomas’ parishioners from “going local” and joining God in the neighborhood.

I think of our parishioners volunteering at the Community Crisis Center and Owings Mills Elementary School – that’s definitely joining God in the neighborhood, right?

But, I’ve been thinking that maybe we should consider doing our own version of “Going Local.”

Maybe some day this summer we should gather here to pray together and read and hear Scripture and then fan out into the neighborhood.

Where there’s no sidewalk, we could drive more mindfully than usual – and where there are sidewalks we could walk - really looking around, taking the time to notice what’s going on around here – who is living and working here - where God might be at work - and where God might be calling us to get to work.

And then we could return here and share what we’ve discovered.

Six years ago when the Bishop came to Jersey City, I was pretty confident that I knew my neighborhood really well – I had lived almost my whole life there, after all.

But that afternoon with fresh eyes and an open heart, I was able realize that God had moved into the neighborhood in ways that I hadn’t noticed before.

And, I bet the same would be true for us here.

Because, in and through Jesus, God has moved into the neighborhood - right into the joys and sorrows and messiness of our neighborhood.

That’s what love looks like.

And God invites us – calls us - to join God in the neighborhood.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Amen.

George's Way

Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ

May 6, 2023

The Funeral of George Hayman

Isaiah 25:6-9

Revelation 7:9-17

John 14:1-6a

George’s Way

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

I want to start by thanking Mother Susan for graciously sharing her pulpit with me. Once again, your hospitality is much appreciated.

And I want to thank Lauren for inviting me to come back home, and share a few words with you today.

So, I began my homily with the Easter Acclamation, and I did that for two reasons.

First, I hoped it might settle my nervousness, at least a little.

And second, I love that George’s funeral is taking place during the Easter Season.

Every Christian funeral is an Easter celebration - there are always at least a few “Alleluias.” 

But it’s during the Eastertide that we most especially celebrate God’s love for us – God’s unbreakable bond of love with us – a bond that is stronger than anything – a bond that withstands even death itself.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Since we’re now well into the Easter Season, today’s gospel lesson may have sounded a little jarring – a little out of time - because it takes us all the way back to Holy Week, back to the Last Supper.

Jesus had been predicting his death for some time.

But, the disciples couldn’t or wouldn’t hear it.

We know how it is.

Even with plenty of advance warning, it’s hard to accept that someone we love is going to suffer and die.

But that night, when Jesus gathered with his friends for one last meal, the hard truth must have been sinking in.

With time running out, Jesus teaches the disciples - and us - a few last, most important lessons:

Jesus washes feet and says this is how it should be with us - wash each other’s feet - love one another.

Jesus blesses bread and wine and says this is my body and blood – and I will be with you each time you’re at the table and remember me.

Some most important and unforgettable lessons.

And, as we heard this morning, Jesus promises that we will be reunited – and Jesus even says that we know the way to the place of reunion.

It’s only Thomas who is brave enough, honest enough, to say, “Lord, we do not know the way to the place where you are going. How can we know the way?”

And, Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

I doubt that cleared things up very much, but a few days later, after the first Easter, when the disciples knew that death had in fact been defeated, they began to understand and proclaim that Jesus is the way to new life.

For us, Jesus is the way – and the way of Jesus is giving our selves away in loving service to God and one another.

Jesus is the way – but the way of Jesus is not a one-size-fits-all way.

No, we are all called and challenged to discover our own unique way along the way.

And, I think that you will all agree that our much-loved George – he definitely found his own unique way along the way – he walked his own way along the way – and we were all so blessed by George’s Way.

I began to discover George’s Way the very first time I met him.

Some of my Grace Church friends may remember that back when I was finishing seminary and the possibility of serving here as curate first came up, I wasn’t sure if this was the right place for me.

I had lived pretty much my whole life in Jersey City, and Madison seemed, I don’t know, pretty fancy and, well, very green, and I was afraid that I wouldn’t fit in with the people here, that we wouldn’t have much in common.

But, you know, I needed a job.

So, I came out here for a day of interviews – meeting with Lauren and several wonderful parishioners and staff members – and by the afternoon I was thinking these people are pretty great and this is an exciting place… but I still had those nagging doubts.

Near the end of the day, Lauren and I were wrapping up in her office – and then George arrived. I can’t remember if he knocked on the door or just walked in – probably just walked in.

Lauren introduced him as her husband George but he stuck out his hand and with a mischievous smile and said, “Mr. Lauren Ackland – glad to meet you!”

I didn’t know what was going on – it had been a long day!

But George started talking about his days working with the mission churches in Jersey City and, well, our friendship was off and running – and I knew that this would be a good place for me.

As he did for so many others, with his warmth and straightforwardness and his kind of – let’s say off-beat - sense of humor, George immediately put me at ease. 

And while “Mr. Lauren Ackland” was a long-running self-deprecating joke, it pointed to a deep and beautiful truth.

As you know, George was a smart and talented and interesting guy – a loving and loyal son, brother, uncle, and friend - a gifted writer and designer of bulletins and booklets – a lover of history – an accomplished golfer – a dedicated public servant - a lifelong singer and appreciator of music – a devoted Yankees fan (with a soft spot for the Baltimore Orioles) – but, at least in my experience, George’s Way was very much about supporting Lauren – loving her by supporting her ministry, authentically and generously.

And it seems that was true right from the start – I loved that George used to begin telling stories about General Seminary by saying, “When we were at seminary…”

At St. Alban’s and here at Grace, George threw himself into church life – the choir, the altar guild, attending just about every church event – plays and concerts featuring Grace kids - so many diocesan meetings, and conventions, and special services and on and on.

George was an important role model for all the clergy spouses who passed through Grace Church during those years, including my wife Sue. Not that they could or should imitate him exactly. But through his life and his ministry, he showed that clergy spouses could be supportive while also being themselves – because George was never anyone but himself.

As I’ve been thinking about our days together here at Grace, one particular image has been coming to mind.

Back then, the first service on Sunday was at 7:30am.

I’m a morning person and that always felt a little early to me!

George was most definitely not a morning person and yet whenever Lauren was preaching, he would come over from the rectory and take a seat up there in the choir loft where most of the 7:30 congregation couldn’t see him – but the preacher would know that he was there.

George was there to be fed by Lauren’s words and wisdom – he was there to support her, even at that early hour, even after having heard hundreds and hundreds of her sermons, even when he was going to hear that same sermon several more times that day.

That was George’s Way.

I’m very glad that in his final months, George was able to hear how much we loved and appreciated him.

Lauren, of course, was tireless in her love and devotion – that’s her way.

And, lots of other people got in touch and some of us were able to visit.

I’m happy to report that George held onto his sense of humor until just about the end.

The last time we were together, I was sitting at his bedside trying to keep it together while George was kind of drifting in and out, and then, at one point, he opened his eyes, looked over at me and asked, “Are you having fun, yet?”

In his last days, George heard music – music only he could hear. 

I think he was hearing the music from the mountaintop party envisioned by the Prophet Isaiah – the place of reunion prepared by Jesus - that grand celebration with the best food and drink – a party more joyous than we can imagine.

Here’s the thing, though, for George it would not be heaven without us - it wouldn’t be the best party ever without Lauren and his family and friends.

So, about that.

I’ve been told that there are two types of time.

Maybe you’ve heard this, too.

There’s chronological time – you know, one thing after another.

But there’s also God’s time – and in God’s time, past, present, and future, lose their distinction.

For now, you and I are in chronological time.

But, George, he has stepped into God’s time – he is already in the place of reunion.

And although we can’t quite fully see it or feel it yet, we are there with him, too.

Today, we’re getting just a taste of that heavenly banquet, crying and feasting and singing and laughing – giving thanks to God for our many blessings, giving thanks most of all, for George Hayman and for George’s Way.

Amen.