St. Paul's Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ
August 7, 2005
Year A: Pentecost 12
Jonah 2: 1-9
Psalm 29
Romans 9: 1-5
Matthew 14: 22-33
Suffering and faith. Working as a chaplain at Christ Hospital this summer I’ve thought a lot about these two big issues - suffering and faith – which are also at the heart of today’s readings. This may sound strange but of the two, suffering and faith, I really think suffering is the easier one for us to deal with.
Suffering is certainly pretty easy to identify in today’s readings. We begin with the wonderful, bizarre story of Jonah stuck for three days in the belly of the big fish. In the news these past couple of days we’ve heard about some modern-day Jonahs haven’t we, Russian sailors trapped in their submarine, finally rescued this morning. Anyway, Jonah is probably the crankiest, most difficult prophet in the entire Bible. When God tells him to go east, Jonah goes west. It’s that stubbornness that leads Jonah to the unappealing position we find him in today – trapped inside a fish’s belly. Jonah is suffering.
Then we have Paul, the faithful Jew, so hurt and so disappointed that most of his Jewish brothers and sisters have not recognized Jesus as the Messiah. Paul is so upset about this that he even considers having himself cut off from Christ for the sake of his people. Paul is suffering.
And finally we have Peter – the eager apostle trying to do the best he can – trying to faithfully follow the Lord. So he goes charging out of the boat onto the lake heading toward Jesus. I love the image of what happens next – when Peter gets afraid and begins to sink. I always think of those old cartoons when someone like Wile E. Coyote races off a cliff and stays up in the air - until he recognizes the danger of his situation. You know… Yes, as he had that sinking feeling, Peter was suffering.
Let’s face it, suffering is easier to talk about than faith because lots of times it seems like suffering is all around us. Faith, on the other hand, is a lot harder to pin down. Can we have a show of hands – who here has ever suffered? That’s what I thought.
Obviously a hospital is a place filled with a lot of suffering. Many days as I have made my visits around the hospital, just before I enter patients’ rooms, I get that sinking feeling, a little bit like Jonah and Peter. What suffering will I be faced with now?
I think of the man in his 70s I visited with for a long time last week. He is devastated by his sister’s death and now he is betrayed by his own body as he struggles to breathe and to walk. His life seems to have been shattered into a thousand pieces. He is suffering. Or the alcoholic in his 40s, bloated, jaundiced and dying as his liver and kidneys fail. Sitting with his elderly mom and dad as they struggle with the anger they feel towards their son and maybe, if they admit it, the anger they feel towards God. Suffering. Or the 20 year-old young man I met in intensive care – a feeding tube up his nose, his eyes glazed and his scared young girlfriend sitting sadly by his side. Suffering.
We don’t have to look far to find suffering. But what about this morning’s other theme, faith? More than the issue of suffering, it is the issue of faith that has troubled me during my time working in the hospital. Sure, nearly every patient I meet claims to believe in God, and all the Christians say they believe in Jesus. But I have a feeling that lots of people say this because they think that’s what the nice chaplain wants to hear. It’s sort of like asking a lonely person if they have friends. Often they’ll say “Oh, sure, I have friends”. But then if you ask who their friends are, it turns out they have no one. With the patients, when I try to dig a little deeper and ask how their “faith” helps them or how they experience the presence of God – usually I get lots of ums and shrugs. I think this is very sad and discouraging.
It’s sad because the message of the entire Bible can be summed up in one word – “Emmanuel” – “God with us.” Throughout the Scriptures God promises one thing over and over – God promises to be with us always. God promises God’s presence. God does not promise an easy life. God does not promise a life without suffering. God does not promise miracles. God promises one thing - God promises to be with us through all the suffering – and all the joy – of life.
And yet so many of us, especially in times of great suffering, struggle to feel God with us. Must be frustrating for God! I think part of our problem is that we have turned faith into an intellectual activity. We’re too much up here in our heads and too little down in our hearts. We say “I believe this, that and the other thing.” OK, that’s fine, I guess. But what happens when we experience something that causes us to question or doubt all those “I believes”? What happens when we get that sinking feeling like Jonah, Paul and Peter? Unfortunately I think what often happens is the faith up here in our heads evaporates and we are overcome by fear and doubt. Since we don’t feel God’s presence we think, maybe we were kidding ourselves, fooling ourselves, lying to ourselves. The intellectual faith, the faith of our brain, is not enough to give us strength in our times of need.
But if not an intellectual faith, then what? Well, maybe the word “faith” itself offers an answer. Our English word “faith” comes from the Latin word “fido” which means “to trust, to confide in.” “To trust, confide in.” It turns out that really faith is a verb, it’s an action, it’s a doing. Faith is a practice. Faith really is putting our trust in God. Faith is not somehow convincing ourselves that what’s written in a holy book is true. Faith is not convincing our brains that what people in fancy robes tell us is true. No, faith is the act of putting our trust in God. Faith is placing our confidence in God. Simple, profound, and for me at least, really hard!
Faith is the work of our lives. Not easy and, sure, we will doubt and hesitate – especially when times get tough. But as we practice our faith – by praying with our whole hearts, by serving our brothers and sisters, by coming to church and praising God - as we practice our faith our relationship with God deepens and matures. As we really pay attention to the world around us, as we are mindful – our faith deepens and matures. We are not just called to say “I believe this, that and the other thing.” It’s more than that. As we practice our faith, as we live our lives, we are called to open our hearts and place our trust in God, to make room for God, to confide in God, to rest in God. And by developing that deep trust in God’s presence, we will be stronger when those tough times come.
Really if we think about it, keeping up with God is not so different from keeping up with friends and family. Who wants to be the person who never makes time for other people and then ends up alone wondering where are all the people close to me? Why is no one visiting or calling me? Oh yeah, I never really bothered with them, did I? Same with God. To feel God’s presence we need to work on our relationship with God – to make some room for God - that is faith.
So the message of today’s readings is pretty clear. In the midst of their suffering Jonah, Paul and Peter reached out, opened their hearts, put their trust in God. As we especially see with Peter, their faith wasn’t perfect – they doubted and stumbled. But that’s OK because in the end they put their trust in God, creating more and more room for God to work in and through their lives.
If we know anything about the lives of Jonah, Paul and Peter we know that their faith in God did not guarantee an easy, painless life. Far from it. But their faith, their putting trust in God, did guarantee a deeper and deeper relationship with God – a different kind of sinking feeling – a sinking into the One who is love and the source of all life - a sinking into the One who never abandons us even if, like Peter, we are of little faith. Amen.
Now, as it happens, in a second we will stand and say the creed. Maybe today we can say these words not only with our brains and mouths, but also with our hearts – hearts open to the presence of God.
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Sunday, July 10, 2005
The Parable of the Sower
St. Paul's Church in Bergen
July 10, 2005
Year A: 8 Pentecost
Isaiah 55:1-5;10-13
Psalm 65: 9-14
Romans 8: 9-17
Matthew 13: 1-9; 18-23
You know I really love living in the city, but sometimes being a city person causes some big challenges when it comes to reading the Bible. After all, the Bible is a document written a couple of thousand years ago by people in the Middle East who were mostly farmers and shepherds. I mean, what do we living in Jersey City in 2005 know about sheep and shepherds? We are pretty cut off from nature here. When was the last time you even saw sheep in Jersey City? Or even in Bayonne? And yet, this agricultural imagery pops up over and over again in the Bible, and today’s readings give us some great examples.
In Isaiah we have mountains and hills bursting into song. Hmm, OK, singing mountains. The Psalmist declares, “May the fields of the wilderness be rich for grazing and the hills be clothed with joy.” Right – hills clothed with joy. And, in today’s Gospel we have the famous parable of the sower. Lots of agricultural imagery for us city slickers – people pretty cut off from nature in this paved over place- to deal with.
Just like it’s easy for us to feel cut off from nature, it’s also easy for us to be unaware of God’s presence in our lives; easy for us to be unaware of God’s presence in the world. Especially in times like this when we turn on our TVs in the morning and once again see the slaughter and suffering of innocent people as they make their way to work – trying to get by in the world. It’s very easy for us to lose our sense of God, our sense of the holy, our sense of God’s abundant love, in a world such as this.
How frustrating this must be for God! Especially frustrating for God when we hear the way God is described in this morning’s readings. Here is God as a God of abundance and extravagance. A God whose Spirit is present in the beautiful world around us. A God whose Spirit is present inside our own beautiful hearts. A God who overflows with love.
I don’t know where I heard this, but there is an ancient idea that says that, in a way, God could not help but create the universe. That God was so full of love, it couldn’t be contained. God’s love and creative power overflowed and resulted in the world, the universe. And if we really take the time to pay attention to the world, to nature, we can see God’s presence all around us – even right here in Jersey City.
For the past few weeks most days I’ve been walking from home to Christ Hospital. I’ve tried to take different routes to see as much as I can and to avoid boredom. One thing I have noticed is how many people, on these grimy blocks and gritty streets, have taken the time to plant and tend beautiful flowers. In the midst of cars, trucks and buses belching exhaust – here are marigolds, roses and hydrangea. These flowers don’t really serve any practical purpose, except to make the world more beautiful. It’s kind of crazy and seemingly wasteful, but also moving and a powerful sign of hope and life.
And doesn’t God work the same way? God did not have to make the planet beautiful. God did not have to give us the ability to appreciate beauty. Yet, there it is. And, sure enough, the closer and deeper we look at things, the more beautiful they turn out to be. Have you ever seen the elegance of DNA – the actual building blocks of life? Many people who doubt God’s existence have second thoughts when they see the complexity and beauty of DNA. Or how about some of the images from the deepest parts of the universe – distant galaxies, and immense clouds generating billions of stars? Incredibly awesome and beautiful. There really is an extravagance, an overflowing abundance, in God’s loving, creative power. God really is the farmer that Jesus describes sowing his seeds – on the path, on rocky ground, among thorns, and yes, on good soil. Now even this city boy knows that you should try to get as much seed as you can on good soil – you should try to be very careful. But that’s not how God does it. God’s out in the middle of the Boulevard throwing seeds left and right! God is abundant, God is seemingly wasteful, God is overflowing.
And since, as St. Paul reminds us today, the Spirit of God dwells in us, isn’t it true that at our best we are abundant, seemingly wasteful and overflowing – just like God? Don’t we, at our best, deep in our hearts, have a huge reserve of love? But, what do we do? We ration the love – we try to conserve it. It’s like we say, “I’m sorry, I can’t love you too much because I might use up all my love!” It’s even hard for many of us to say the words – as if, somehow, we have a limited supply of even just the word “love.” Unfortunately, lots of times, we only open our hearts and allow the love to pour out when we are in life and death situations. And, then, sure enough, in those extreme moments, we find that we have more than enough love to go around. We become like the farmer, we become like God, tossing love on the asphalt and the concrete.
The terrible attacks in London a few days ago brought back lots of 9/11 memories. Remember when we heard the heartbreaking messages left by victims on answering machines and voice mail? What did these people say over and over? “I love you. I love you so much. Tell the kids I love them. I love you so much.” In the middle of so much pain and suffering – in the worst soil I can imagine – an overflow of love.
Isn’t this the Kingdom of Heaven that Jesus describes in today’s Gospel? Isn’t this God planting seeds here, there and everywhere? Isn’t this what Paul describes as the “Spirit of God” dwelling in us? Isn’t this the love and joy described by Isaiah – love and joy so powerful that it causes nature itself to burst into praise?
This summer at Christ Hospital I’ve had a fair share of extreme moments. One patient has haunted me. She was in the hospital for about three weeks, and after a short while it became clear that she was dying. I had the privilege of spending a lot of time with her and her family during those last days. One time when we were alone, she looked at me intently, grabbed my hand and said, “I never thought I could love my children so much.” “I never thought I could love my children so much.”
And sure enough, as each of her children and her grandchildren sat by her bedside, she held their hand and said over and over in her slurred and hoarse voice, “I love you.” “I love you.” “I love you so much.” And through tears and smiles they told this dying woman how much they loved her. An abundant, overflowing love.
Isn’t this what Jesus is telling us today about God? Jesus tells us that God is overflowing with love – pouring love out even in the harshest, rockiest, least promising places. Tossing seeds here, there, and everywhere. An abundant, seemingly wasteful, overflowing love.
And today we are challenged to be both the good sower and the good soil. All we need to do is open our hearts – by loving and by being loved. To love extravagantly and abundantly just like God - who creates the galaxies and the marigolds.
Today let us pray that we will open our hearts to love, so that the mountains and hills shall burst into song, and the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
July 10, 2005
Year A: 8 Pentecost
Isaiah 55:1-5;10-13
Psalm 65: 9-14
Romans 8: 9-17
Matthew 13: 1-9; 18-23
You know I really love living in the city, but sometimes being a city person causes some big challenges when it comes to reading the Bible. After all, the Bible is a document written a couple of thousand years ago by people in the Middle East who were mostly farmers and shepherds. I mean, what do we living in Jersey City in 2005 know about sheep and shepherds? We are pretty cut off from nature here. When was the last time you even saw sheep in Jersey City? Or even in Bayonne? And yet, this agricultural imagery pops up over and over again in the Bible, and today’s readings give us some great examples.
In Isaiah we have mountains and hills bursting into song. Hmm, OK, singing mountains. The Psalmist declares, “May the fields of the wilderness be rich for grazing and the hills be clothed with joy.” Right – hills clothed with joy. And, in today’s Gospel we have the famous parable of the sower. Lots of agricultural imagery for us city slickers – people pretty cut off from nature in this paved over place- to deal with.
Just like it’s easy for us to feel cut off from nature, it’s also easy for us to be unaware of God’s presence in our lives; easy for us to be unaware of God’s presence in the world. Especially in times like this when we turn on our TVs in the morning and once again see the slaughter and suffering of innocent people as they make their way to work – trying to get by in the world. It’s very easy for us to lose our sense of God, our sense of the holy, our sense of God’s abundant love, in a world such as this.
How frustrating this must be for God! Especially frustrating for God when we hear the way God is described in this morning’s readings. Here is God as a God of abundance and extravagance. A God whose Spirit is present in the beautiful world around us. A God whose Spirit is present inside our own beautiful hearts. A God who overflows with love.
I don’t know where I heard this, but there is an ancient idea that says that, in a way, God could not help but create the universe. That God was so full of love, it couldn’t be contained. God’s love and creative power overflowed and resulted in the world, the universe. And if we really take the time to pay attention to the world, to nature, we can see God’s presence all around us – even right here in Jersey City.
For the past few weeks most days I’ve been walking from home to Christ Hospital. I’ve tried to take different routes to see as much as I can and to avoid boredom. One thing I have noticed is how many people, on these grimy blocks and gritty streets, have taken the time to plant and tend beautiful flowers. In the midst of cars, trucks and buses belching exhaust – here are marigolds, roses and hydrangea. These flowers don’t really serve any practical purpose, except to make the world more beautiful. It’s kind of crazy and seemingly wasteful, but also moving and a powerful sign of hope and life.
And doesn’t God work the same way? God did not have to make the planet beautiful. God did not have to give us the ability to appreciate beauty. Yet, there it is. And, sure enough, the closer and deeper we look at things, the more beautiful they turn out to be. Have you ever seen the elegance of DNA – the actual building blocks of life? Many people who doubt God’s existence have second thoughts when they see the complexity and beauty of DNA. Or how about some of the images from the deepest parts of the universe – distant galaxies, and immense clouds generating billions of stars? Incredibly awesome and beautiful. There really is an extravagance, an overflowing abundance, in God’s loving, creative power. God really is the farmer that Jesus describes sowing his seeds – on the path, on rocky ground, among thorns, and yes, on good soil. Now even this city boy knows that you should try to get as much seed as you can on good soil – you should try to be very careful. But that’s not how God does it. God’s out in the middle of the Boulevard throwing seeds left and right! God is abundant, God is seemingly wasteful, God is overflowing.
And since, as St. Paul reminds us today, the Spirit of God dwells in us, isn’t it true that at our best we are abundant, seemingly wasteful and overflowing – just like God? Don’t we, at our best, deep in our hearts, have a huge reserve of love? But, what do we do? We ration the love – we try to conserve it. It’s like we say, “I’m sorry, I can’t love you too much because I might use up all my love!” It’s even hard for many of us to say the words – as if, somehow, we have a limited supply of even just the word “love.” Unfortunately, lots of times, we only open our hearts and allow the love to pour out when we are in life and death situations. And, then, sure enough, in those extreme moments, we find that we have more than enough love to go around. We become like the farmer, we become like God, tossing love on the asphalt and the concrete.
The terrible attacks in London a few days ago brought back lots of 9/11 memories. Remember when we heard the heartbreaking messages left by victims on answering machines and voice mail? What did these people say over and over? “I love you. I love you so much. Tell the kids I love them. I love you so much.” In the middle of so much pain and suffering – in the worst soil I can imagine – an overflow of love.
Isn’t this the Kingdom of Heaven that Jesus describes in today’s Gospel? Isn’t this God planting seeds here, there and everywhere? Isn’t this what Paul describes as the “Spirit of God” dwelling in us? Isn’t this the love and joy described by Isaiah – love and joy so powerful that it causes nature itself to burst into praise?
This summer at Christ Hospital I’ve had a fair share of extreme moments. One patient has haunted me. She was in the hospital for about three weeks, and after a short while it became clear that she was dying. I had the privilege of spending a lot of time with her and her family during those last days. One time when we were alone, she looked at me intently, grabbed my hand and said, “I never thought I could love my children so much.” “I never thought I could love my children so much.”
And sure enough, as each of her children and her grandchildren sat by her bedside, she held their hand and said over and over in her slurred and hoarse voice, “I love you.” “I love you.” “I love you so much.” And through tears and smiles they told this dying woman how much they loved her. An abundant, overflowing love.
Isn’t this what Jesus is telling us today about God? Jesus tells us that God is overflowing with love – pouring love out even in the harshest, rockiest, least promising places. Tossing seeds here, there, and everywhere. An abundant, seemingly wasteful, overflowing love.
And today we are challenged to be both the good sower and the good soil. All we need to do is open our hearts – by loving and by being loved. To love extravagantly and abundantly just like God - who creates the galaxies and the marigolds.
Today let us pray that we will open our hearts to love, so that the mountains and hills shall burst into song, and the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Sermon on the Feast of St. Alban
Christ Hospital
June 22, 2005
Sermon on the Feast of St. Alban
In the Episcopal Church today is the day that each year we remember St. Alban. I guess he’s not a household name, not one of the better known saints – people like St. Francis or St. Anthony – but I think he is someone worth remembering. He lived in Britain a long time ago – way back in the third century. At first he was not a Christian, but during a time when the Romans were killing Christians, Alban took in a Christian priest and hid him from the Romans. As they were living together, Alban came to admire the priest’s holiness and decided to become a Christian. Eventually the Romans came to Alban’s house and Alban did something really amazing. He put on the priest’s clothes and was arrested, tortured and eventually killed in the priest’s place.
So today we remember Alban as a remarkably courageous and faithful person. He made the supreme sacrifice; he gave his life to protect someone he cared about. But, I find myself wondering about the other character in this story – the priest. Imagine for a second, the priest is someone who has committed his life to his faith. He’s obviously a holy man and a good teacher. We know that Alban is so impressed by him that he becomes a Christian and then Alban even gives his life for the priest.
I wonder, how did the priest feel during all of this? Well, it seems to me that even with his faith, the priest was probably pretty afraid of the Romans. After all, we know he did hide from them in Alban’s house. The priest must have known very well that if he was captured the Romans would torture him and kill him. Maybe the priest even had some doubts about his faith. Maybe the priest wondered – where is God? Why is God letting me down? Why is God letting this happen to me? Sure the priest talked a good game – he was a good preacher and a good teacher. But now he was really suffering and I bet he was searching for the presence of God.
And I believe in this story God works through Alban. The student teaches the teacher. Alban puts his faith into action. By putting on the priest’s clothing, Alban literally lifts the burden, for a time. Of course, Alban’s sacrifice doesn’t make everything all better. The Romans are still around and it’s safe to guess that eventually they caught up with the priest and he had to suffer too. But I think in the midst of the priest’s suffering and pain he would have remembered Alban’s sacrifice – and seen it as a sign that God is at work in the world. Maybe the priest would have seen Alban’s sacrifice as a reminder that God does not promise a life without pain and suffering, but God does promise to be present in our suffering – and we can see God at work if we are really mindful – if we really pay attention. In the words of Psalm 34, “Taste and see that the LORD is good; happy are those who trust in him!”
I have to admit that I have felt very intimidated preparing for this talk today. To be honest, I’ve dreaded it! I have wondered how can I stand here in the chapel and talk about suffering when so many of you watching in your hospital rooms are facing the challenges and fears of illness. So, I humbly offer my own experience – I hope and pray that something in my own story can offer you some hope – some sense that God is present, even right now, especially right now, when maybe things seem very bleak and the suffering is great.
I used to be a high school history teacher. It was work that I enjoyed very much, and I think I was pretty good at it! But about four years ago my grandmother was sick right here in Christ Hospital. Since it was over my Christmas vacation I was able to spend a lot of time with her – more than since I was a kid. We got to talk a lot. It was a great gift. I really admired how she had lived her life so faithfully and faced her illness with peace and confidence. She taught me more about faith than a thousand sermons and books. After that experience I got to thinking seriously about my own life and I came to believe that God might be calling me to be something other than a high school teacher – that God might be calling me to be a priest.
To make a long story short, I found myself this past September beginning to study in a seminary. The teacher was now the student. It was a difficult experience – it was hard to leave my old, familiar life. It was hard to give up my paycheck. It was hard to give up control. I used to grade papers and now professors were grading my work! How dare they! It was a hard year and I found myself exhausted and drained by the end. I often wondered - where is God? Had I made a big mistake? I felt loss and fear.
Recently someone asked me if I feel God’s presence in my life. I’m embarrassed to say I fumbled around for an answer and the best I could come up with was “well, sometimes, I guess.” But since that conversation, over the past few days I really thought about God’s presence in my life – I tried to really pay attention. I was surprised by what I saw.
Last week I was walking through the Journal Square PATH station on Saturday afternoon. I noticed a man who was disheveled and probably homeless – unfortunately a pretty common sight at the Square. Then I saw a very nicely dressed woman looking around nervously, almost as if she was trying to make sure that no one was watching. She quickly walked over to the man, reached into her bag, handed him a package and said, “Here’s something for you to eat.” Just as quickly she was gone. A brief, beautiful moment. But, looking back on it, it was for me a sign of God’s presence in the world – even right here in Jersey City!
This past Sunday I visited a different Episcopal church, one out in the suburbs. It was a very nice service, but I was startled when it came time for the collection. As I placed my crumpled bills into the collection plate, the usher took my hand, forcefully shook it and said “Mr. Murphy, I want to thank you. I’ll explain later.” My wife looked at me and I shrugged, I didn’t think I had ever seen this man before. After the service he caught up with me in the back of the church. It turns out that three years ago he and his wife had decided to send their son to my old school because of what I had said during a talk I gave at the school’s open house. The father was so happy and enthusiastic – it seemed to be one of the best decisions their family had ever made. He was so proud that his son was growing into a fine young man, doing well in school – active in the church – he had just returned from a weeklong service trip where he worked to help the hungry and the homeless. I have to admit I was a little embarrassed by the father’s gratitude, but it was also for me another sign of God’s presence in the world. It was a reminder that God is at work in me and the people around me – even when I’m not paying attention.
Finally these past few weeks serving and learning here at Christ Hospital have been great gifts. The staff has been so kind and generous, even though they are so busy and under so much pressure. And it has been such a privilege to talk and pray with the patients. You have shared your stories, your joys and sorrows. You have told me about your doubts and your faith, your fear and your hope.
June 22, 2005
Sermon on the Feast of St. Alban
In the Episcopal Church today is the day that each year we remember St. Alban. I guess he’s not a household name, not one of the better known saints – people like St. Francis or St. Anthony – but I think he is someone worth remembering. He lived in Britain a long time ago – way back in the third century. At first he was not a Christian, but during a time when the Romans were killing Christians, Alban took in a Christian priest and hid him from the Romans. As they were living together, Alban came to admire the priest’s holiness and decided to become a Christian. Eventually the Romans came to Alban’s house and Alban did something really amazing. He put on the priest’s clothes and was arrested, tortured and eventually killed in the priest’s place.
So today we remember Alban as a remarkably courageous and faithful person. He made the supreme sacrifice; he gave his life to protect someone he cared about. But, I find myself wondering about the other character in this story – the priest. Imagine for a second, the priest is someone who has committed his life to his faith. He’s obviously a holy man and a good teacher. We know that Alban is so impressed by him that he becomes a Christian and then Alban even gives his life for the priest.
I wonder, how did the priest feel during all of this? Well, it seems to me that even with his faith, the priest was probably pretty afraid of the Romans. After all, we know he did hide from them in Alban’s house. The priest must have known very well that if he was captured the Romans would torture him and kill him. Maybe the priest even had some doubts about his faith. Maybe the priest wondered – where is God? Why is God letting me down? Why is God letting this happen to me? Sure the priest talked a good game – he was a good preacher and a good teacher. But now he was really suffering and I bet he was searching for the presence of God.
And I believe in this story God works through Alban. The student teaches the teacher. Alban puts his faith into action. By putting on the priest’s clothing, Alban literally lifts the burden, for a time. Of course, Alban’s sacrifice doesn’t make everything all better. The Romans are still around and it’s safe to guess that eventually they caught up with the priest and he had to suffer too. But I think in the midst of the priest’s suffering and pain he would have remembered Alban’s sacrifice – and seen it as a sign that God is at work in the world. Maybe the priest would have seen Alban’s sacrifice as a reminder that God does not promise a life without pain and suffering, but God does promise to be present in our suffering – and we can see God at work if we are really mindful – if we really pay attention. In the words of Psalm 34, “Taste and see that the LORD is good; happy are those who trust in him!”
I have to admit that I have felt very intimidated preparing for this talk today. To be honest, I’ve dreaded it! I have wondered how can I stand here in the chapel and talk about suffering when so many of you watching in your hospital rooms are facing the challenges and fears of illness. So, I humbly offer my own experience – I hope and pray that something in my own story can offer you some hope – some sense that God is present, even right now, especially right now, when maybe things seem very bleak and the suffering is great.
I used to be a high school history teacher. It was work that I enjoyed very much, and I think I was pretty good at it! But about four years ago my grandmother was sick right here in Christ Hospital. Since it was over my Christmas vacation I was able to spend a lot of time with her – more than since I was a kid. We got to talk a lot. It was a great gift. I really admired how she had lived her life so faithfully and faced her illness with peace and confidence. She taught me more about faith than a thousand sermons and books. After that experience I got to thinking seriously about my own life and I came to believe that God might be calling me to be something other than a high school teacher – that God might be calling me to be a priest.
To make a long story short, I found myself this past September beginning to study in a seminary. The teacher was now the student. It was a difficult experience – it was hard to leave my old, familiar life. It was hard to give up my paycheck. It was hard to give up control. I used to grade papers and now professors were grading my work! How dare they! It was a hard year and I found myself exhausted and drained by the end. I often wondered - where is God? Had I made a big mistake? I felt loss and fear.
Recently someone asked me if I feel God’s presence in my life. I’m embarrassed to say I fumbled around for an answer and the best I could come up with was “well, sometimes, I guess.” But since that conversation, over the past few days I really thought about God’s presence in my life – I tried to really pay attention. I was surprised by what I saw.
Last week I was walking through the Journal Square PATH station on Saturday afternoon. I noticed a man who was disheveled and probably homeless – unfortunately a pretty common sight at the Square. Then I saw a very nicely dressed woman looking around nervously, almost as if she was trying to make sure that no one was watching. She quickly walked over to the man, reached into her bag, handed him a package and said, “Here’s something for you to eat.” Just as quickly she was gone. A brief, beautiful moment. But, looking back on it, it was for me a sign of God’s presence in the world – even right here in Jersey City!
This past Sunday I visited a different Episcopal church, one out in the suburbs. It was a very nice service, but I was startled when it came time for the collection. As I placed my crumpled bills into the collection plate, the usher took my hand, forcefully shook it and said “Mr. Murphy, I want to thank you. I’ll explain later.” My wife looked at me and I shrugged, I didn’t think I had ever seen this man before. After the service he caught up with me in the back of the church. It turns out that three years ago he and his wife had decided to send their son to my old school because of what I had said during a talk I gave at the school’s open house. The father was so happy and enthusiastic – it seemed to be one of the best decisions their family had ever made. He was so proud that his son was growing into a fine young man, doing well in school – active in the church – he had just returned from a weeklong service trip where he worked to help the hungry and the homeless. I have to admit I was a little embarrassed by the father’s gratitude, but it was also for me another sign of God’s presence in the world. It was a reminder that God is at work in me and the people around me – even when I’m not paying attention.
Finally these past few weeks serving and learning here at Christ Hospital have been great gifts. The staff has been so kind and generous, even though they are so busy and under so much pressure. And it has been such a privilege to talk and pray with the patients. You have shared your stories, your joys and sorrows. You have told me about your doubts and your faith, your fear and your hope.
Using our own words we have prayed to God the hope of Psalm 31:
“Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe,
For you are my crag and my stronghold;
For the sake of your name, lead me and guide me.”
“Into your hands I commend my spirit,
For you have redeemed me,
O Lord, O God of truth.”
I think the story of St. Alban and the priest, and the story of our own lives, teach us that God is indeed present, both in the good times and in the times of pain and suffering. This afternoon let us pray that we will open our hearts and our minds to God’s presence among us so that God may be our comfort and our strength, our hope and our support, our light and our way.
For you are my crag and my stronghold;
For the sake of your name, lead me and guide me.”
“Into your hands I commend my spirit,
For you have redeemed me,
O Lord, O God of truth.”
I think the story of St. Alban and the priest, and the story of our own lives, teach us that God is indeed present, both in the good times and in the times of pain and suffering. This afternoon let us pray that we will open our hearts and our minds to God’s presence among us so that God may be our comfort and our strength, our hope and our support, our light and our way.
Amen.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Jersey City Evangelism
St. Paul's Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ
Year A
Pentecost 4
June 12, 2005
“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”
Well, I was hoping that our Sunday readings would get a little easier during this hot and humid summer weather! But, no such luck. It turns out that today’s readings cut very close to the heart of our faith. We are reminded of all the many gifts God has given us. And then we are challenged to respond to God’s generosity. How do we respond? What are we, right here at St. Paul’s in Jersey City, called to do?
In the Old Testament reading from Exodus, God has given the gift of freedom to the Israelites. God says to Moses: “You have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself.” God challenges them to be a “priestly kingdom and a holy nation.” How do the Israelites respond to this profound gift? They accept the Covenant, this special relationship with God. “Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do.” Really easy to say, perhaps, but when you think about it, an awesome challenge. To be God’s holy people. To give full devotion to God. A challenge that the people of Israel will struggle with throughout the ups and downs of history that we read about in the Old Testament.
Last week in the Gospel we heard about Jesus’ call to Matthew – the despised tax collector. Last week I somehow managed to hear three very different sermons, by three very different preachers, on that gospel passage. All three noted that Matthew is called by Jesus not because he is worthy, or holy, or good. Matthew is called because he is simply a human being, created and loved by God. Matthew is called because God is merciful. And what hope that gives us who are also not so worthy or holy. But, you know, I think we’d love it if that’s how the story ended. Matthew, and you and I, are called by Jesus despite – or because – we are unworthy and we spend the rest of our lives sitting at the Lord’s feet, listening to his teaching, witnessing the miracles, trying to figure out the parables, and sharing some great meals. It wouldn’t be hard to take, would it, if to be a Christian all we had to do was hang out with Jesus? Sign me up!
It would be sort of like if all it meant to be a Christian was to go to church. I’m guessing most of you, like me, enjoy coming here. I think I’ve seen most of you before. It’s a great place, right? Each week we gather together, follow ancient rituals, hear the old stories – brought to life through great preaching, listen to fine music, we pass the peace, we break bread together – both up here at the altar and a little while later during coffee hour in the parish hall. It’s a highlight of my week and it makes me sad to imagine not being here.
And this church year in particular St. Paul’s has been on quite a roll – Bishop Croneberger’s visit, the bazaar, wonderful Christmas and Easter, great new people in our congregation, a website, the church school, a powerful Confirmation service just a few weeks ago (with nice pictures in the paper), the foosball championship later today, the summer program about to start…it’s been a wonderful time at St. Paul’s. The church looks great and feels great. I really can’t wait to see what happens next!
But all the wonderful things that happen here – in the end they are not what being a Christian is all about. If for us, being a Christian means just going to church – even a powerful, friendly, loving church like ours – then we have not really lived into God’s challenge to be faithful Christians.
“The harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. Therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest…”
The church’s mission, this church’s mission, is to give us the food that we need, the tools that we need, the support that we need, to be like Jesus – to bring the good news to the world. It turns out that Matthew’s back in today’s Gospel, isn’t he? He didn’t get to spend the rest of his life hanging out with Jesus. No, Matthew and the rest are given the challenge to go out and proclaim “the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Back then the twelve, and now today, we, are sent out into the harvest.
The fancy word for going out into the harvest is evangelism – a word that is maybe not too popular in the Episcopal Church. It’s a word that turns off a lot of people. It’s a word that has gotten kind of a bad reputation because some have abused it. But evangelism really means to be a “messenger of good news.”
There’s no other way to be a Christian, except to live as an evangelist – a messenger of the Good News.
Now, before anyone objects, I’m not saying that we should all meet tomorrow morning at the bus stop over on Bergen Avenue with our Bibles in hand and preach the Gospel to the commuters. Although, some are called to do exactly that. But I do believe that we are all called, all challenged, all expected to be evangelists – messengers of the Good News. But we are called to be evangelists in our own way – there’s no one size fits all when it comes to evangelism.
One of the greatest Christians, St. Francis of Assisi, once said, “Preach the Gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.” “Preach the Gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.” I bet most of the time we evangelize in ways we don’t even suspect. Not so much by what we say, but by how we live our lives. When we are caring and compassionate. By being good husbands and wives, loving parents and loving children. By listening to the other person with our hearts and our minds. Really listening and caring. Really paying attention. Not hiding our faith, but not force-feeding it either. Not preaching at people (sorry, what I’m doing now doesn’t count!) but really not preaching at people but being courageous enough to share what Christ has done in our lives.) Resisting injustice, standing up for the despised and the outcast. Living our lives in a mindful way – remembering what Jesus says in today’s Gospel – “the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Remembering that God is at work in our daily lives and all the people we encounter every day - and living our lives in a way that shows that we really believe that. This evangelism is not necessarily done with a lot of talk. “Preach the Gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.”
I’m reminded of how my friend Father Carr sums up the Christian life – it’s a life of love, forgiveness and service.
Just yesterday I was walking through the Journal Square PATH station on my way home from the diaconal ordinations at the cathedral in Newark. I saw a disheveled homeless man – unfortunately a pretty common site at the Square. But then I saw a very nicely dressed woman who seemed to be looking around a little nervously – almost as if she wanted to make sure no one was watching. And then she quickly stepped over to the homeless man, reached into her bag, and said “Here’s something for you to eat.” Just a brief, beautiful moment. But certainly in that moment the kingdom of heaven had come near.
All of the people who have really influenced my faith life have done it not so much by what they said but how they lived their lives. They have made me want to be like them. My grandmother, Rita, was one of the holiest people I’ve ever met. I wish you could have met her. Yet, although she certainly wanted to pass on the faith to me and her other grandchildren, she never once preached to me, or even taught me about the faith – with words. Yet she taught me so much by the way she lived her life – with love and simplicity, selflessness and faithfulness. Sharing the experience of her final illness and death was one of the most powerful times of my life. I’ll never forget how she faced death with utter serenity and courage – confident that indeed the kingdom of heaven had come near. For me, there was more evangelism in that experience than in a thousand sermons or books. It was that experience that got me thinking about and praying about the priesthood. And I really still feel her support as I make my way on the road to ordination.
I’m also reminded of my fifteen years as a full-time teacher. Sue’s probably sick of hearing this by now, but after a while I came to the conclusion that what was more important than the subject I was teaching was that I somehow expressed that I genuinely cared about my students and that I demonstrated a sincere love of learning. Everything else would fall into place after that. Not so different from the Christian life is it? Love of God and love of neighbor. Everything flows from that.
You know, overall, it doesn’t seem like Jesus was a big talker either. Yes, of course, there are the sermons and the parables. But more than his words, I think Jesus gathered and taught his followers through his actions. Let’s face it, most of the time the disciples didn’t get what Jesus was talking about anyway! It’s not about the words, but the life. Remember last week, Jesus simply says to Matthew “Follow me.” And Matthew got up and followed him. I don’t think those two words “Follow me” had any kind of magical power. Instead, it seems to me, what convinced Matthew was the simple yet profound act of this great teacher and healer reaching out – especially reaching out to one so despised by society. For Matthew, that day, the kingdom of heaven was near.
So, there you have it. Like the ancient Israelites, like Matthew and the other first followers of Jesus, God has been good to us here at St. Paul’s. Like Matthew and the first followers of Jesus, we are called to be God’s holy people. We are called to be evangelists. We are called to be messengers of the Good News.
So, sister and brother evangelists, we have come once again to this holy place on Duncan Avenue to be fed with spiritual food. Let us pray that we will go forth into the world in peace and that God will grant us strength and courage to love and serve God with gladness and singleness of heart. Let us pray that God will give us the confidence to preach the Gospel at all times, if necessary using words. And since the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, let us pray with Jesus that God will send out laborers – will send us out – into the harvest. Right out there, just outside those doors.
Amen.
Year A
Pentecost 4
June 12, 2005
“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”
Well, I was hoping that our Sunday readings would get a little easier during this hot and humid summer weather! But, no such luck. It turns out that today’s readings cut very close to the heart of our faith. We are reminded of all the many gifts God has given us. And then we are challenged to respond to God’s generosity. How do we respond? What are we, right here at St. Paul’s in Jersey City, called to do?
In the Old Testament reading from Exodus, God has given the gift of freedom to the Israelites. God says to Moses: “You have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself.” God challenges them to be a “priestly kingdom and a holy nation.” How do the Israelites respond to this profound gift? They accept the Covenant, this special relationship with God. “Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do.” Really easy to say, perhaps, but when you think about it, an awesome challenge. To be God’s holy people. To give full devotion to God. A challenge that the people of Israel will struggle with throughout the ups and downs of history that we read about in the Old Testament.
Last week in the Gospel we heard about Jesus’ call to Matthew – the despised tax collector. Last week I somehow managed to hear three very different sermons, by three very different preachers, on that gospel passage. All three noted that Matthew is called by Jesus not because he is worthy, or holy, or good. Matthew is called because he is simply a human being, created and loved by God. Matthew is called because God is merciful. And what hope that gives us who are also not so worthy or holy. But, you know, I think we’d love it if that’s how the story ended. Matthew, and you and I, are called by Jesus despite – or because – we are unworthy and we spend the rest of our lives sitting at the Lord’s feet, listening to his teaching, witnessing the miracles, trying to figure out the parables, and sharing some great meals. It wouldn’t be hard to take, would it, if to be a Christian all we had to do was hang out with Jesus? Sign me up!
It would be sort of like if all it meant to be a Christian was to go to church. I’m guessing most of you, like me, enjoy coming here. I think I’ve seen most of you before. It’s a great place, right? Each week we gather together, follow ancient rituals, hear the old stories – brought to life through great preaching, listen to fine music, we pass the peace, we break bread together – both up here at the altar and a little while later during coffee hour in the parish hall. It’s a highlight of my week and it makes me sad to imagine not being here.
And this church year in particular St. Paul’s has been on quite a roll – Bishop Croneberger’s visit, the bazaar, wonderful Christmas and Easter, great new people in our congregation, a website, the church school, a powerful Confirmation service just a few weeks ago (with nice pictures in the paper), the foosball championship later today, the summer program about to start…it’s been a wonderful time at St. Paul’s. The church looks great and feels great. I really can’t wait to see what happens next!
But all the wonderful things that happen here – in the end they are not what being a Christian is all about. If for us, being a Christian means just going to church – even a powerful, friendly, loving church like ours – then we have not really lived into God’s challenge to be faithful Christians.
“The harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. Therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest…”
The church’s mission, this church’s mission, is to give us the food that we need, the tools that we need, the support that we need, to be like Jesus – to bring the good news to the world. It turns out that Matthew’s back in today’s Gospel, isn’t he? He didn’t get to spend the rest of his life hanging out with Jesus. No, Matthew and the rest are given the challenge to go out and proclaim “the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Back then the twelve, and now today, we, are sent out into the harvest.
The fancy word for going out into the harvest is evangelism – a word that is maybe not too popular in the Episcopal Church. It’s a word that turns off a lot of people. It’s a word that has gotten kind of a bad reputation because some have abused it. But evangelism really means to be a “messenger of good news.”
There’s no other way to be a Christian, except to live as an evangelist – a messenger of the Good News.
Now, before anyone objects, I’m not saying that we should all meet tomorrow morning at the bus stop over on Bergen Avenue with our Bibles in hand and preach the Gospel to the commuters. Although, some are called to do exactly that. But I do believe that we are all called, all challenged, all expected to be evangelists – messengers of the Good News. But we are called to be evangelists in our own way – there’s no one size fits all when it comes to evangelism.
One of the greatest Christians, St. Francis of Assisi, once said, “Preach the Gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.” “Preach the Gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.” I bet most of the time we evangelize in ways we don’t even suspect. Not so much by what we say, but by how we live our lives. When we are caring and compassionate. By being good husbands and wives, loving parents and loving children. By listening to the other person with our hearts and our minds. Really listening and caring. Really paying attention. Not hiding our faith, but not force-feeding it either. Not preaching at people (sorry, what I’m doing now doesn’t count!) but really not preaching at people but being courageous enough to share what Christ has done in our lives.) Resisting injustice, standing up for the despised and the outcast. Living our lives in a mindful way – remembering what Jesus says in today’s Gospel – “the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Remembering that God is at work in our daily lives and all the people we encounter every day - and living our lives in a way that shows that we really believe that. This evangelism is not necessarily done with a lot of talk. “Preach the Gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.”
I’m reminded of how my friend Father Carr sums up the Christian life – it’s a life of love, forgiveness and service.
Just yesterday I was walking through the Journal Square PATH station on my way home from the diaconal ordinations at the cathedral in Newark. I saw a disheveled homeless man – unfortunately a pretty common site at the Square. But then I saw a very nicely dressed woman who seemed to be looking around a little nervously – almost as if she wanted to make sure no one was watching. And then she quickly stepped over to the homeless man, reached into her bag, and said “Here’s something for you to eat.” Just a brief, beautiful moment. But certainly in that moment the kingdom of heaven had come near.
All of the people who have really influenced my faith life have done it not so much by what they said but how they lived their lives. They have made me want to be like them. My grandmother, Rita, was one of the holiest people I’ve ever met. I wish you could have met her. Yet, although she certainly wanted to pass on the faith to me and her other grandchildren, she never once preached to me, or even taught me about the faith – with words. Yet she taught me so much by the way she lived her life – with love and simplicity, selflessness and faithfulness. Sharing the experience of her final illness and death was one of the most powerful times of my life. I’ll never forget how she faced death with utter serenity and courage – confident that indeed the kingdom of heaven had come near. For me, there was more evangelism in that experience than in a thousand sermons or books. It was that experience that got me thinking about and praying about the priesthood. And I really still feel her support as I make my way on the road to ordination.
I’m also reminded of my fifteen years as a full-time teacher. Sue’s probably sick of hearing this by now, but after a while I came to the conclusion that what was more important than the subject I was teaching was that I somehow expressed that I genuinely cared about my students and that I demonstrated a sincere love of learning. Everything else would fall into place after that. Not so different from the Christian life is it? Love of God and love of neighbor. Everything flows from that.
You know, overall, it doesn’t seem like Jesus was a big talker either. Yes, of course, there are the sermons and the parables. But more than his words, I think Jesus gathered and taught his followers through his actions. Let’s face it, most of the time the disciples didn’t get what Jesus was talking about anyway! It’s not about the words, but the life. Remember last week, Jesus simply says to Matthew “Follow me.” And Matthew got up and followed him. I don’t think those two words “Follow me” had any kind of magical power. Instead, it seems to me, what convinced Matthew was the simple yet profound act of this great teacher and healer reaching out – especially reaching out to one so despised by society. For Matthew, that day, the kingdom of heaven was near.
So, there you have it. Like the ancient Israelites, like Matthew and the other first followers of Jesus, God has been good to us here at St. Paul’s. Like Matthew and the first followers of Jesus, we are called to be God’s holy people. We are called to be evangelists. We are called to be messengers of the Good News.
So, sister and brother evangelists, we have come once again to this holy place on Duncan Avenue to be fed with spiritual food. Let us pray that we will go forth into the world in peace and that God will grant us strength and courage to love and serve God with gladness and singleness of heart. Let us pray that God will give us the confidence to preach the Gospel at all times, if necessary using words. And since the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, let us pray with Jesus that God will send out laborers – will send us out – into the harvest. Right out there, just outside those doors.
Amen.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Palm Sunday
St. Paul’s Church in Bergen
Year A – Palm Sunday
March 20, 2005
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
I want to begin by admitting that I have been feeling a little discouraged lately. It seems like everywhere I turn I see misery and suffering and loss. I think we could all agree that the world is an absolute mess – war, poverty, even a string of heartbreaking, brutal murders right here in our own city. In this messy and broken world of ours I find myself sitting in class over at the seminary learning about long-ago monks and prophets. And I sometimes ask, what is the point of all this? The world is such an absolute mess, what difference can I possibly make? What difference can the church make in a broken world that opposes, hates and mocks what Christianity teaches?
This is a good day to ask these difficult questions because today we have come very close to the heart of Christianity. We are powerfully reminded that two thousand years ago, right here on our messy and broken earth, God revealed God’s self in the person of Jesus Christ. Human beings, not very different from you or me, heard his message of love, saw his miracles, listened to his teaching – and killed him. Despite all of the images of the cross that surround us, that dangle from necks and decorate our churches, I think we often forget this profound, terrible and terrifying truth. Human beings killed the revelation of God.
He was killed not because he was a mystic, or a healer, or a prophet, or a teacher – although he was all of those things. He was killed because in a messy and broken world he called for justice, reaching out to people on the margins of society – the poor and the despised – the disposable people – people not really needed or wanted. He offered a vision of a different kind of world, one built on the foundation of love. He was killed because he spoke the truth to power and power did not like it one bit.
But, you and I, we’re not powerful religious or political officials, so what about the ordinary people back in Jesus’ time - you know, people like us? Well, it seems at least some of them wanted to welcome and accept Jesus, after all we heard them today, didn’t we, singing “Hosanna” as Jesus rides into Jerusalem. But in the end, even the average person didn’t want to hear the truth and it’s not hard to imagine that a lot of these same Palm Sunday folks are in the crowd just a few days later crying out for the criminal Barabbas. People not so different from us killed him. Another unhappy story in a world full of unhappy stories.
But part of what makes the Christian story so powerful is this fact that it really does take place in the dirty, messy, painful, real world, involving ordinary people like us in extraordinary events. Sure we try to clean it up and gloss over some of the more difficult parts, but the truth close to the heart of our story is a brutal execution. The earliest followers of Jesus understood this. I mean, isn’t it surprising that the writers of the Gospels – writing decades after the events they were describing – didn’t try to clean things up a bit?
In an age that glorified the noble death – death with calmness and dignity or death on a battlefield, the Evangelists must have cringed, must have been embarrassed, by what happens to Jesus - and they certainly must have been embarrassed by the behavior of his closest followers – and yet they kept it all in the Gospel. There’s the big strong fisherman Peter, the Rock Jesus called him, cowardly denying Jesus three times and then being overcome with shame when he hears the cock crow the third time. We even see Jesus, praying in the garden to God that this cup might pass, and later crying out from the Cross, quoting Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” There’s the account of the Roman soldiers mocking Jesus, stripping him, jamming a crown of thorns on his head, casting lots for his clothes. Finally, we have Jesus dying the shameful death of a criminal on the cross – his terrified apostles off in hiding, but with some brave women looking on from a distance, surely devastated and heartbroken.
Now, we have all seen enough movies and TV shows, that I think we could easily come up with a better story – maybe something like Jesus as some kind of a superhero who only pretends to die on the Cross, and when no one is looking pulls out the nails, jumps down from the Cross and gets his revenge using his superpower strength on the Romans and the Jewish religious leaders who thought they had finished him off for good. Later he gathers with his apostles and has a good laugh about those stupid Romans and priests and plans his next adventure. Now, if you don’t like that story, I’m sure you could come up with an even better one of your own. There’s only one problem, none of our stories would be real. Our stories wouldn’t take place in the real – messy and broken world.
What gives the Christian story its power is its authenticity, its realness. The Christian story doesn’t take place up in heaven, but right here in the messy and broken world that we recognize and experience every day.
I recently read a magazine article about the Church of the Holy Sepulcher which sits on what is believed to be the site of Jesus’ tomb in Jerusalem. Now you would expect that this church at this very holy site would be something beautiful and spectacular – along the lines of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome or St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. Instead, I was shocked to read, this church at this very holy place, is an absolute, falling-apart, mess. Part of it is a burned out ruin. Part of it has been covered in scaffolding for decades. The walls are blackened by soot. The floor stones are dangerously uneven. The railings are loose. The only entrance is a little doorway that you have to crouch under to enter and exit. It’s a disaster.
Even worse than that, the different branches of the Christian family all bicker and feud over their rights to use the church. There are little chapels and altars throughout this not very large church, set aside for different denominations. The Coptic chapel is large enough for exactly one person at a time. And yes, in case you’re wondering, we Anglicans have our chapel too. The author of the article describes a fight that recently broke out between Roman Catholic Franciscans and Greek Orthodox priests that had to be broken up by Israeli police. Oh, and there’s a group of Ethiopian monks who camp out on the roof of the church and live there as squatters. So, there you have it, one of the holiest sights in all of Christianity is a complete mess.
My first reaction in reading this was shock and disgust. How pathetic that such a special place was in such bad shape and how embarrassing that Christians behave there in such petty and childish ways. In fact, the Christians behave so badly that it’s a Muslim family that keeps the keys to the church! Yet, the more I reflected on this sad situation the more I thought that this broken and divided church building in Jerusalem is actually a very powerful symbol of the broken and divided Christian church and our own broken and divided world. And it’s also a reminder that Jesus came into this same broken and divided world – and it was here that he showed us another way. It was here that he lived, and loved, and taught, and prayed, and healed, and forgave, and died, and three days later…
So, if we claim Christ then we need to take up his work of redeeming this world of ours. Faced with a broken and divided world and a broken and divided church, we can’t retreat into our own little worlds and say I have no need of you. Like Jesus, we need to reach out to the oppressed, the disposable people, the people who are despised by the world. We need to speak the truth to power and to speak the truth with love. And we need to do all of this right here, like Jesus, in the real world.
This is frightening stuff. We don’t know what the future will bring. There may very well be painful consequences. There’s real risk involved in following Christ. And it would be so much easier to just mind our own business. But each week, also here in the real world, we are strengthened by the Word of God, fed by the Eucharist, and loved by our little Christian community right here at St. Paul’s.
And unlike Mary Magdalene and the other Mary who, for now, we leave sitting at the tomb in mourning and in fear, we know how the story ends.
Today we are now very close to the heart of Christianity. God is revealed in Jesus Christ, right here, right now, in our broken and divided world. Jesus shows us the way to a world built on love. What happens next is up to us.
Amen.
Year A – Palm Sunday
March 20, 2005
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
I want to begin by admitting that I have been feeling a little discouraged lately. It seems like everywhere I turn I see misery and suffering and loss. I think we could all agree that the world is an absolute mess – war, poverty, even a string of heartbreaking, brutal murders right here in our own city. In this messy and broken world of ours I find myself sitting in class over at the seminary learning about long-ago monks and prophets. And I sometimes ask, what is the point of all this? The world is such an absolute mess, what difference can I possibly make? What difference can the church make in a broken world that opposes, hates and mocks what Christianity teaches?
This is a good day to ask these difficult questions because today we have come very close to the heart of Christianity. We are powerfully reminded that two thousand years ago, right here on our messy and broken earth, God revealed God’s self in the person of Jesus Christ. Human beings, not very different from you or me, heard his message of love, saw his miracles, listened to his teaching – and killed him. Despite all of the images of the cross that surround us, that dangle from necks and decorate our churches, I think we often forget this profound, terrible and terrifying truth. Human beings killed the revelation of God.
He was killed not because he was a mystic, or a healer, or a prophet, or a teacher – although he was all of those things. He was killed because in a messy and broken world he called for justice, reaching out to people on the margins of society – the poor and the despised – the disposable people – people not really needed or wanted. He offered a vision of a different kind of world, one built on the foundation of love. He was killed because he spoke the truth to power and power did not like it one bit.
But, you and I, we’re not powerful religious or political officials, so what about the ordinary people back in Jesus’ time - you know, people like us? Well, it seems at least some of them wanted to welcome and accept Jesus, after all we heard them today, didn’t we, singing “Hosanna” as Jesus rides into Jerusalem. But in the end, even the average person didn’t want to hear the truth and it’s not hard to imagine that a lot of these same Palm Sunday folks are in the crowd just a few days later crying out for the criminal Barabbas. People not so different from us killed him. Another unhappy story in a world full of unhappy stories.
But part of what makes the Christian story so powerful is this fact that it really does take place in the dirty, messy, painful, real world, involving ordinary people like us in extraordinary events. Sure we try to clean it up and gloss over some of the more difficult parts, but the truth close to the heart of our story is a brutal execution. The earliest followers of Jesus understood this. I mean, isn’t it surprising that the writers of the Gospels – writing decades after the events they were describing – didn’t try to clean things up a bit?
In an age that glorified the noble death – death with calmness and dignity or death on a battlefield, the Evangelists must have cringed, must have been embarrassed, by what happens to Jesus - and they certainly must have been embarrassed by the behavior of his closest followers – and yet they kept it all in the Gospel. There’s the big strong fisherman Peter, the Rock Jesus called him, cowardly denying Jesus three times and then being overcome with shame when he hears the cock crow the third time. We even see Jesus, praying in the garden to God that this cup might pass, and later crying out from the Cross, quoting Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” There’s the account of the Roman soldiers mocking Jesus, stripping him, jamming a crown of thorns on his head, casting lots for his clothes. Finally, we have Jesus dying the shameful death of a criminal on the cross – his terrified apostles off in hiding, but with some brave women looking on from a distance, surely devastated and heartbroken.
Now, we have all seen enough movies and TV shows, that I think we could easily come up with a better story – maybe something like Jesus as some kind of a superhero who only pretends to die on the Cross, and when no one is looking pulls out the nails, jumps down from the Cross and gets his revenge using his superpower strength on the Romans and the Jewish religious leaders who thought they had finished him off for good. Later he gathers with his apostles and has a good laugh about those stupid Romans and priests and plans his next adventure. Now, if you don’t like that story, I’m sure you could come up with an even better one of your own. There’s only one problem, none of our stories would be real. Our stories wouldn’t take place in the real – messy and broken world.
What gives the Christian story its power is its authenticity, its realness. The Christian story doesn’t take place up in heaven, but right here in the messy and broken world that we recognize and experience every day.
I recently read a magazine article about the Church of the Holy Sepulcher which sits on what is believed to be the site of Jesus’ tomb in Jerusalem. Now you would expect that this church at this very holy site would be something beautiful and spectacular – along the lines of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome or St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. Instead, I was shocked to read, this church at this very holy place, is an absolute, falling-apart, mess. Part of it is a burned out ruin. Part of it has been covered in scaffolding for decades. The walls are blackened by soot. The floor stones are dangerously uneven. The railings are loose. The only entrance is a little doorway that you have to crouch under to enter and exit. It’s a disaster.
Even worse than that, the different branches of the Christian family all bicker and feud over their rights to use the church. There are little chapels and altars throughout this not very large church, set aside for different denominations. The Coptic chapel is large enough for exactly one person at a time. And yes, in case you’re wondering, we Anglicans have our chapel too. The author of the article describes a fight that recently broke out between Roman Catholic Franciscans and Greek Orthodox priests that had to be broken up by Israeli police. Oh, and there’s a group of Ethiopian monks who camp out on the roof of the church and live there as squatters. So, there you have it, one of the holiest sights in all of Christianity is a complete mess.
My first reaction in reading this was shock and disgust. How pathetic that such a special place was in such bad shape and how embarrassing that Christians behave there in such petty and childish ways. In fact, the Christians behave so badly that it’s a Muslim family that keeps the keys to the church! Yet, the more I reflected on this sad situation the more I thought that this broken and divided church building in Jerusalem is actually a very powerful symbol of the broken and divided Christian church and our own broken and divided world. And it’s also a reminder that Jesus came into this same broken and divided world – and it was here that he showed us another way. It was here that he lived, and loved, and taught, and prayed, and healed, and forgave, and died, and three days later…
So, if we claim Christ then we need to take up his work of redeeming this world of ours. Faced with a broken and divided world and a broken and divided church, we can’t retreat into our own little worlds and say I have no need of you. Like Jesus, we need to reach out to the oppressed, the disposable people, the people who are despised by the world. We need to speak the truth to power and to speak the truth with love. And we need to do all of this right here, like Jesus, in the real world.
This is frightening stuff. We don’t know what the future will bring. There may very well be painful consequences. There’s real risk involved in following Christ. And it would be so much easier to just mind our own business. But each week, also here in the real world, we are strengthened by the Word of God, fed by the Eucharist, and loved by our little Christian community right here at St. Paul’s.
And unlike Mary Magdalene and the other Mary who, for now, we leave sitting at the tomb in mourning and in fear, we know how the story ends.
Today we are now very close to the heart of Christianity. God is revealed in Jesus Christ, right here, right now, in our broken and divided world. Jesus shows us the way to a world built on love. What happens next is up to us.
Amen.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
The First Sermon
St. Paul’s Church in Bergen
December 12, 2004
Year A – Advent 3
Let the words of my mouth
and the meditation of our hearts
be always acceptable in your sight,
O Lord, our strength and redeemer. Amen.
All right, I admit it – this is pretty exciting! The third Sunday of Advent is finally here. Many thanks to Fr. Hamilton for giving me the privilege to preach today. Many thanks also to my family and friends – some of whom have heard me preach informally for years – for being here today. For us here at St. Paul’s this has been exciting Advent. Those of you who were here last week know we had a great day with Bishop Croneberger. His visit gave him a chance to see our beautiful, diverse and talented St. Paul’s family, and, you know, maybe more importantly, gave us a special chance to see ourselves. Pretty exciting stuff! Yesterday we had a very successful Christmas bazaar. Next week Lessons and Carols and the greening of the church.
The expectation and excitement of Christmas is building. Now, my parents and my sister are here today, so I have to admit that, as a kid, sometimes the excitement and expectation of the season got the best of me. I’m sure that many of you who didn’t know me back then will be surprised to learn that – when I was much younger – I could not resist snooping around the house for my Christmas gifts. It’s true – there I was poking around closets and peering under beds in search of what might later be waiting under the Christmas tree. If I could have figured out how to get to Santa’s workshop at the North Pole and be back home in time for dinner I would have done it.
And sometimes I actually found some of my gifts - and some that maybe weren’t mine. Now here is where I slipped up. The truth of the matter is I was outstanding at unpacking and unwrapping and, yes, even playing with gifts that hadn’t been given to me yet. But I wasn’t so good at getting those gifts rewrapped or back into boxes. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t cover my tracks. It didn’t take long for me to gain a reputation as a hopeless snoop who could not resist the expectation and excitement of Christmas. I was so focused on snooping around that I missed the whole point of Christmas. Having said that, I do want to go on record, though, that I’ve long since gotten over this problem. I have no idea where Sue hides my Christmas gifts.
But I have to admit even with my adult self-control this is a very exciting time. As you all know, I’m just completing my first semester at General Seminary. Some of my classmates are here today and I’m sure they’ll agree that there have been a few rough patches, but it’s truly been a life-changing, amazing experience. This season is a particularly special time for Sue and me since we arrived here at St. Paul’s on the second Sunday of Advent four years ago. Even the Prophet Isaiah adds to the excitement. Isaiah imagines a world when,
“Sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”
What an exciting vision Isaiah gives us of life in the Kingdom of God. We can almost taste that excitement and expectation in today’s Psalm – describing the God of Israel as one “who gives justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger.” Well, this is going to be just wonderful! I can’t take the expectation anymore – let’s get started!
But, wait; after all it is only the third Sunday of Advent. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. In the New Testament lesson, the author of the Epistle of James reminds us that we must be patient like a farmer waiting to harvest the crop. If the farmer goes to work too early it could be disastrous. So, OK, patience – we can wait a little while longer. It’s not Christmas yet – yes, there’s a whole lot of expectation but, no, I won’t open that package yet!
But we have to admit that today’s lessons do seem full of excitement and expectation – until we come to today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew. What a powerful moment when an imprisoned John the Baptist sends his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” What!? John the Baptist is asking this question? John the Baptist who Luke tells us leapt in his mother’s womb when a pregnant Mary came to visit? John who recognized he was not worthy to baptize Jesus and had to be talked into it by the Lord? John who urged his followers to repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near? John “Prepare ye the way of the Lord”? Yes, that John. It seems that maybe this great prophet, the prophet of the Most High, was at least at this moment, unable or unwilling to recognize Jesus as the One. It seems like, despite everything that’s happened, he still doesn’t get it.
Whew. Well, you know I’m new at this and I’m not totally sure what to make of this situation. But, first, I think, let’s not be too hard on John. His imprisonment must have been difficult and of course we know the horrible death sentence that awaits him. But having said that, I do think there is an important Advent lesson here for us. John may have been tripped up – or if it’s not pushing it too much, imprisoned – by his own expectations.
As we have been reminded in the Gospel readings these past few Sundays, John preached about and expected a messiah who was to come with a winnowing fork – coming to separate the wheat from the chaff. John expected the messiah as a fearsome judge – judging humanity and burning the guilty in an unquenchable fire. He wasn’t alone of course, prophets long before John expected this kind of vengeful figure. But instead of a frightening judge or a warrior king like David, we have Jesus the meek and humble king. Now this was unexpected. Instead of a fighting messiah, Jesus is a messiah of healing and blessing. It’s not too hard to understand how, especially to a prophet suffering in prison, this might be a real disappointment.
If you’re looking for a warrior king go see the new movie Alexander. Alexander the Great was an interesting character to be sure, but (speaking as a former history teacher) just another in a long line of warriors whose empire lasted a few years and then vanished into dust. Yet, here we are still following Jesus the meek king – the messiah of healing and blessing, 2000 years later. And, I’m sure if our rector were up here right now he would remind us that many, many more people went to see The Passion of the Christ than have gone to see the new movie on Alexander. The messiah of healing and blessing continues his work even today. This is not what John the Baptist, you or I, or pretty much anyone else would have expected.
As Bishop Croneberger reminded us last week, Advent, of course, is a season of expectation. But expectation can be dangerous. Think about how often our expectations get us into trouble. How often do we limit or burden people with our expectations? In my years as a teacher, I’m sorry to say, I was guilty of it all too often. So many times we burden children with unfair expectations. How easy it was to size a kid up based on appearance or what I had heard – good and bad - in the faculty room. Our expectations – good and bad – can easily prevent us from seeing the real person in his or her complexity, richness, and beauty. Our expectations can reduce people to simply a job, or a level of education, or income.
Maybe even worse, we have created a seemingly endless number of labels in an effort to reduce people to our expectations – to put them in neat little boxes of our own creation. So often in our political life we throw around labels such as liberal and conservative. I don’t know about you, but at this point I don’t even know what these words mean. Sadly, we don’t realize that all our labels and expectations prevent us from seeing the truth.
Of course, we do the same thing all the time in the church – we throw around all sorts of labels - Orthodox, revisionist, High Church, Low Church, Catholic, Protestant, evangelical, and on and on. We use these expectations and labels to let ourselves off the hook; to spare us the hard work of really getting to know people (including maybe ourselves) in all our complex, messy reality. Worst of all, these narrow expectations prevent us from seeing God living in, through and around our brothers and sisters.
And, speaking of God, does anyone doubt that we try over and over again to put God in our own little boxes? We create an image of God that often conveniently resembles whoever is in charge, or maybe an image that resembles us. How often have we seen God depicted as an old man with a flowing white beard? Not very helpful - and surely a silly attempt to contain God.
All these expectations – all these attempts by creatures like us to put God who is – omnipotent, omniscient, pure freedom, creation, love and infinitely more – all these attempts by us to put God into some kind of box are doomed to fail. All of these expectations leave us in the same position as John – unable or unwilling to recognize the One that we encounter every moment of every day of our lives. Our expectations close us off to the living God right here in our midst. The 20th Century monk and writer Thomas Merton puts it this way:
“Life is simple. We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent, and God is shining through all the time.
And I would argue that often we don’t see God shining through because we are trapped by our own petty, biased and often wrong expectations of God.
Well, instead of expressing frustration like we probably would, Jesus responds to John’s disciples, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have good news brought to them.” I don’t want to sound like we’re over at the seminary, but it’s worth reminding ourselves that today’s Gospel is found in Matthew Chapter 11. It’s important because previously in Chapter 10 the apostles had been sent out with authority to cast out unclean spirits and to cure every disease. So, it’s not just Jesus doing all this healing and blessing, but his apostles and disciples also. Through Jesus and in Jesus, God’s power has been revealed. And that power is available to the ordinary, extraordinary followers of Jesus. I guess this power is not really what John or you and I would have expected, but very real if we only set aside our own expectations and open our hearts to the power of God.
Well, John’s disciples have questioned Jesus and in return Jesus challenges them. He asks about their expectations of John. Had they followed him into the desert or down to the Jordan because he wore soft robes? No, of course not – they went to see a great prophet. All right – so it seems like they go that much right. But then Jesus must have startled them when he said, “Truly I tell you among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist.”
Hmm, it doesn’t get much better than that, does it? Jesus declares that John – John who leapt in his mother’s womb; John who somewhat reluctantly baptized Jesus; John who preached repentance; John who seems at the moment unable to recognize or understand Jesus. Jesus declares that there has never been a person greater than this John.
Well, where do we go from there? I guess the competition is over – John is number one. But then Jesus continues, “yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”
So John’s the greatest ever, but the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he is.” Well, sure, yeah, I guess maybe angels would be greater than a mere mortal like John.
But, I don’t think that’s what Jesus means. The kingdom of heaven is not just someplace we go to when we die. The kingdom of heaven is the kingdom of God right here on earth. Today Jesus is telling us that the least in the kingdom of heaven could be you, could be me – right here, right now. As followers of Jesus, we could be greater than John the Baptist! It seems hard to believe; it’s not what we expected, but it’s the truth.
So, we have a job to do as followers of this meek and humble king – this Jesus, the unexpected messiah of healing and blessing. Our job is to set aside our expectations and open ourselves up to the presence of the living God. Our job is to embrace the unexpected truths that Jesus teaches us – blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger for righteousness. Blessed are the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake. We are so familiar with these words we forget how unexpected they must have been, and if we listen, how unexpected they still are. But our job is to hold these unexpected truths in our hearts and to live out these unexpected truths in our lives.
When we focus on our expectations we miss the truth.
We here gathered this morning at St. Paul’s in Jersey City on the third Sunday of Advent 2004 can be greater even than the Prophet of the Most High – if only we set aside our expectations and open our hearts to the love and power of God that we know in Jesus Christ, the meek and humble king. We would not, could not, have expected it, but a new age has begun in Christ. Now, that’s something to be excited about!
Amen.
December 12, 2004
Year A – Advent 3
Let the words of my mouth
and the meditation of our hearts
be always acceptable in your sight,
O Lord, our strength and redeemer. Amen.
All right, I admit it – this is pretty exciting! The third Sunday of Advent is finally here. Many thanks to Fr. Hamilton for giving me the privilege to preach today. Many thanks also to my family and friends – some of whom have heard me preach informally for years – for being here today. For us here at St. Paul’s this has been exciting Advent. Those of you who were here last week know we had a great day with Bishop Croneberger. His visit gave him a chance to see our beautiful, diverse and talented St. Paul’s family, and, you know, maybe more importantly, gave us a special chance to see ourselves. Pretty exciting stuff! Yesterday we had a very successful Christmas bazaar. Next week Lessons and Carols and the greening of the church.
The expectation and excitement of Christmas is building. Now, my parents and my sister are here today, so I have to admit that, as a kid, sometimes the excitement and expectation of the season got the best of me. I’m sure that many of you who didn’t know me back then will be surprised to learn that – when I was much younger – I could not resist snooping around the house for my Christmas gifts. It’s true – there I was poking around closets and peering under beds in search of what might later be waiting under the Christmas tree. If I could have figured out how to get to Santa’s workshop at the North Pole and be back home in time for dinner I would have done it.
And sometimes I actually found some of my gifts - and some that maybe weren’t mine. Now here is where I slipped up. The truth of the matter is I was outstanding at unpacking and unwrapping and, yes, even playing with gifts that hadn’t been given to me yet. But I wasn’t so good at getting those gifts rewrapped or back into boxes. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t cover my tracks. It didn’t take long for me to gain a reputation as a hopeless snoop who could not resist the expectation and excitement of Christmas. I was so focused on snooping around that I missed the whole point of Christmas. Having said that, I do want to go on record, though, that I’ve long since gotten over this problem. I have no idea where Sue hides my Christmas gifts.
But I have to admit even with my adult self-control this is a very exciting time. As you all know, I’m just completing my first semester at General Seminary. Some of my classmates are here today and I’m sure they’ll agree that there have been a few rough patches, but it’s truly been a life-changing, amazing experience. This season is a particularly special time for Sue and me since we arrived here at St. Paul’s on the second Sunday of Advent four years ago. Even the Prophet Isaiah adds to the excitement. Isaiah imagines a world when,
“Sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”
What an exciting vision Isaiah gives us of life in the Kingdom of God. We can almost taste that excitement and expectation in today’s Psalm – describing the God of Israel as one “who gives justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger.” Well, this is going to be just wonderful! I can’t take the expectation anymore – let’s get started!
But, wait; after all it is only the third Sunday of Advent. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. In the New Testament lesson, the author of the Epistle of James reminds us that we must be patient like a farmer waiting to harvest the crop. If the farmer goes to work too early it could be disastrous. So, OK, patience – we can wait a little while longer. It’s not Christmas yet – yes, there’s a whole lot of expectation but, no, I won’t open that package yet!
But we have to admit that today’s lessons do seem full of excitement and expectation – until we come to today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew. What a powerful moment when an imprisoned John the Baptist sends his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” What!? John the Baptist is asking this question? John the Baptist who Luke tells us leapt in his mother’s womb when a pregnant Mary came to visit? John who recognized he was not worthy to baptize Jesus and had to be talked into it by the Lord? John who urged his followers to repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near? John “Prepare ye the way of the Lord”? Yes, that John. It seems that maybe this great prophet, the prophet of the Most High, was at least at this moment, unable or unwilling to recognize Jesus as the One. It seems like, despite everything that’s happened, he still doesn’t get it.
Whew. Well, you know I’m new at this and I’m not totally sure what to make of this situation. But, first, I think, let’s not be too hard on John. His imprisonment must have been difficult and of course we know the horrible death sentence that awaits him. But having said that, I do think there is an important Advent lesson here for us. John may have been tripped up – or if it’s not pushing it too much, imprisoned – by his own expectations.
As we have been reminded in the Gospel readings these past few Sundays, John preached about and expected a messiah who was to come with a winnowing fork – coming to separate the wheat from the chaff. John expected the messiah as a fearsome judge – judging humanity and burning the guilty in an unquenchable fire. He wasn’t alone of course, prophets long before John expected this kind of vengeful figure. But instead of a frightening judge or a warrior king like David, we have Jesus the meek and humble king. Now this was unexpected. Instead of a fighting messiah, Jesus is a messiah of healing and blessing. It’s not too hard to understand how, especially to a prophet suffering in prison, this might be a real disappointment.
If you’re looking for a warrior king go see the new movie Alexander. Alexander the Great was an interesting character to be sure, but (speaking as a former history teacher) just another in a long line of warriors whose empire lasted a few years and then vanished into dust. Yet, here we are still following Jesus the meek king – the messiah of healing and blessing, 2000 years later. And, I’m sure if our rector were up here right now he would remind us that many, many more people went to see The Passion of the Christ than have gone to see the new movie on Alexander. The messiah of healing and blessing continues his work even today. This is not what John the Baptist, you or I, or pretty much anyone else would have expected.
As Bishop Croneberger reminded us last week, Advent, of course, is a season of expectation. But expectation can be dangerous. Think about how often our expectations get us into trouble. How often do we limit or burden people with our expectations? In my years as a teacher, I’m sorry to say, I was guilty of it all too often. So many times we burden children with unfair expectations. How easy it was to size a kid up based on appearance or what I had heard – good and bad - in the faculty room. Our expectations – good and bad – can easily prevent us from seeing the real person in his or her complexity, richness, and beauty. Our expectations can reduce people to simply a job, or a level of education, or income.
Maybe even worse, we have created a seemingly endless number of labels in an effort to reduce people to our expectations – to put them in neat little boxes of our own creation. So often in our political life we throw around labels such as liberal and conservative. I don’t know about you, but at this point I don’t even know what these words mean. Sadly, we don’t realize that all our labels and expectations prevent us from seeing the truth.
Of course, we do the same thing all the time in the church – we throw around all sorts of labels - Orthodox, revisionist, High Church, Low Church, Catholic, Protestant, evangelical, and on and on. We use these expectations and labels to let ourselves off the hook; to spare us the hard work of really getting to know people (including maybe ourselves) in all our complex, messy reality. Worst of all, these narrow expectations prevent us from seeing God living in, through and around our brothers and sisters.
And, speaking of God, does anyone doubt that we try over and over again to put God in our own little boxes? We create an image of God that often conveniently resembles whoever is in charge, or maybe an image that resembles us. How often have we seen God depicted as an old man with a flowing white beard? Not very helpful - and surely a silly attempt to contain God.
All these expectations – all these attempts by creatures like us to put God who is – omnipotent, omniscient, pure freedom, creation, love and infinitely more – all these attempts by us to put God into some kind of box are doomed to fail. All of these expectations leave us in the same position as John – unable or unwilling to recognize the One that we encounter every moment of every day of our lives. Our expectations close us off to the living God right here in our midst. The 20th Century monk and writer Thomas Merton puts it this way:
“Life is simple. We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent, and God is shining through all the time.
And I would argue that often we don’t see God shining through because we are trapped by our own petty, biased and often wrong expectations of God.
Well, instead of expressing frustration like we probably would, Jesus responds to John’s disciples, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have good news brought to them.” I don’t want to sound like we’re over at the seminary, but it’s worth reminding ourselves that today’s Gospel is found in Matthew Chapter 11. It’s important because previously in Chapter 10 the apostles had been sent out with authority to cast out unclean spirits and to cure every disease. So, it’s not just Jesus doing all this healing and blessing, but his apostles and disciples also. Through Jesus and in Jesus, God’s power has been revealed. And that power is available to the ordinary, extraordinary followers of Jesus. I guess this power is not really what John or you and I would have expected, but very real if we only set aside our own expectations and open our hearts to the power of God.
Well, John’s disciples have questioned Jesus and in return Jesus challenges them. He asks about their expectations of John. Had they followed him into the desert or down to the Jordan because he wore soft robes? No, of course not – they went to see a great prophet. All right – so it seems like they go that much right. But then Jesus must have startled them when he said, “Truly I tell you among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist.”
Hmm, it doesn’t get much better than that, does it? Jesus declares that John – John who leapt in his mother’s womb; John who somewhat reluctantly baptized Jesus; John who preached repentance; John who seems at the moment unable to recognize or understand Jesus. Jesus declares that there has never been a person greater than this John.
Well, where do we go from there? I guess the competition is over – John is number one. But then Jesus continues, “yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”
So John’s the greatest ever, but the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he is.” Well, sure, yeah, I guess maybe angels would be greater than a mere mortal like John.
But, I don’t think that’s what Jesus means. The kingdom of heaven is not just someplace we go to when we die. The kingdom of heaven is the kingdom of God right here on earth. Today Jesus is telling us that the least in the kingdom of heaven could be you, could be me – right here, right now. As followers of Jesus, we could be greater than John the Baptist! It seems hard to believe; it’s not what we expected, but it’s the truth.
So, we have a job to do as followers of this meek and humble king – this Jesus, the unexpected messiah of healing and blessing. Our job is to set aside our expectations and open ourselves up to the presence of the living God. Our job is to embrace the unexpected truths that Jesus teaches us – blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger for righteousness. Blessed are the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake. We are so familiar with these words we forget how unexpected they must have been, and if we listen, how unexpected they still are. But our job is to hold these unexpected truths in our hearts and to live out these unexpected truths in our lives.
When we focus on our expectations we miss the truth.
We here gathered this morning at St. Paul’s in Jersey City on the third Sunday of Advent 2004 can be greater even than the Prophet of the Most High – if only we set aside our expectations and open our hearts to the love and power of God that we know in Jesus Christ, the meek and humble king. We would not, could not, have expected it, but a new age has begun in Christ. Now, that’s something to be excited about!
Amen.
Wednesday, January 01, 2003
Bergen Square Walking Tour
Bergen Square: A Walking Tour
Presented by the Jersey City Landmarks Conservancy
I: INTRODUCTION
Hudson's Arrival
In the early 1600s the Dutch were not particularly interested in exploring North America. Instead, they turned their attention to the more lucrative tropics and Asia.
In 1609 an Englishman named Henry Hudson was hired by the Dutch to find a passage through North America to Asia. Unable to find the fabled "Northwest Passage" Hudson did report the discovery of a wide harbor surrounded by pleasant land.
New Netherland
Recognizing the value of Manhattan Island and the surrounding region, the Dutch quickly claimed all the land between the Delaware and Connecticut Rivers as "New Netherland".
Slowly the Dutch began to build settlements in their new territory, most importantly, New Amsterdam at the tip of Manhattan Island. There were a number of attempts to build a permanent settlement in present-day New Jersey, but each failed for a variety of reasons: hostility from the Indians, Dutch disorganization and the relatively small number of settlers. For example, in 1633 a trading post was set up by Michael Paulus, an agent of the Dutch West Indies Company, at "Aressick" on the Hudson River today's Paulus Hook.
Although the Dutch generally sought to purchase Indian land, there was considerable violence between both sides. In 1656 after a particularly violent episode (caused when an Indian girl was killed in Manhattan after attempting to eat a peach from an orchard) led to all the scattered Dutch settlers living on the west side of the Hudson to flee to New Amsterdam, the governor of New Netherland, Peter Stuyvesant, issued an ordinance declaring that all settlers must "concentrate themselves by the next spring in the form of towns, villages, and hamlets, so that they might be more effectively protected, maintained and defended against all assaults and attacks by the barbarians."
Two years later, Stuyvesant engineered the purchase of most of present-day Hudson County. For this real estate, the Indians received: 80 fathoms of wampum, 20 fathoms of cloth, 12 brass kettles, 1 double brass kettle, 6 guns, 2 blankets and 1/2 barrel of strong beer.
Bergen
In November of 1660, several families led by Tilman Van Vleck received permission for the creation of a new settlement called Bergen "in the new maize land." Jacques Cortelyou surveyed the land and planned a central square and four surrounding blocks. This was the first example in America of the design later known as the "Philadelphia Square."
There has been some speculation about the name "Bergen". There may have been Danes and Norwegians among the earliest settlers leading some to suggest that Bergen refers to the city in Norway or perhaps Bergen op Zoom in Holland. However, most authorities believe the word for "hill" or "mountain" is the likely source for a settlement built on a ridge.
In any event, most historians consider Bergen the first permanent European settlement in New Jersey, although Communipaw down the road came close when later in 1660 farmers formed a small village there.
Here’s one description of life in Bergen:
From their height the villagers looked over island-dotted and stream-divided meadows of tall sea-grass, swarming with wild fowl and rich with fish. Those bright, unstained expanses gave them mighty crops of salt hay for no trouble save that of harvesting it. They were crops that could not fail so long as the tides ran. Everywhere the salt tides were the Dutchman’s friend. He utilized high flood to bring craft close to his farms for easy loading or unloading. He used the ebb to help him to the bay and so to the market at New Amsterdam. He used the flood to help him home again. Indeed, his very land-roads were tidal; for the lower reaches to Paulus Hook and other shores were often under sea in the full-moon tides.
The Dutch lost control of New Netherland in 1664, yet the Dutch and their descendants retained a distinct identity well into the 19th century.
Bergen and the American Revolution
Located along the main coach road between Boston and Philadelphia, many prominent patriots passed through Bergen in the years leading to the American War for Independence Paul Revere rode by at least eight times, perhaps pausing for refreshment at Van Tise's Eagle Tavern.
Bergen was occupied by the British from 1776 to the end of the war. Most of the Dutch seem to have preferred staying out of the conflict. However, a few prominent citizens chose to support the American cause. Jennie Tuers (whose home was near the site of present-day Hudson Catholic High School) alerted George Washington to Benedict Arnold's betrayal. Bergen seems to have been a hotbed of spying activity as the Americans used the superb view of New York and the harbor seen from Bergen Hill.
Social Structure
At the top of Bergen’s social structure were the landowners, all or nearly all descendants of the original Dutch settlers. They rented land to tenants, who only had to pay rent and were sometimes able to save enough money to buy land of their own.
There were also field workers and household servants, often English, Scottish, Irish and German immigrants. They were responsible for supervising indentured servants and slaves, who were, of course, at the bottom of the settlement’s social structure.
In 1726, 18.4 % of Bergen County was classified as “Negro.” There were very few free blacks in the region until slavery was gradually ended by 1804. Nearly every landowning family owned slaves – both out of perceived necessity and as a measure of social status.
A 19th Century Vanishing Act
After the war, Bergen gradually began to lose its rural character as industrialization and the resulting population growth created the metropolis we recognize today. Piece by piece Bergen Township was broken up until it was absorbed into greater Jersey City in 1870.
Despite the fact that much of old Bergen has been lost, the few remaining landmarks serve as a poignant reminder that the history of European settlement in New Jersey started here.
II: THE TOUR
Enlarge Map
Disclaimer: This is an exterior self-guided walking tour only. Remain on public sidewalks and walkways. Residential, commercial and religious properties are privately owned. The JCLC will not be held legally responsible for trespassing. Furthermore, the JCLC cannot be held liable for any types of injuries incurred. Public and private construction sites abound. Venture forth at your own risk!
Please support Bergen Square businesses while on the tour. Stop at the many local restaurants, grocery stores and shops—and tell them the Jersey City Landmarks Conservancy sent you!
1. The Newkirk House (510 Summit Avenue)
This is one of the oldest structures in Jersey City. It was purchased by Mattheus Newkirk in 1690. Built of sandstone, brick and clapboard, it is a good example of 17th century Dutch architecture. The house remained in the Newkirk family for 200 years until it was sold in 1889. In 1928 the façade was altered to accommodate the realignment of Summit Avenue, but otherwise the structure remains essentially unchanged.
The Pennsylania Railroad cut is located just south of the Newkirk House. Created in the 1830s and 1840s this was the first railroad cut through Bergen Hill, marking the beginning of Jersey City's long history as a railroad hub.
2. Summit Avenue and Academy Street
Present-day Academy Street served as part of the 18th century coach road that linked Boston, New York and Philadelphia. Travelers heading south would take a ferry from New York across the Hudson to Paulus Hook. The coach would then carry them up Bergen Hill, past Prior's Mill, through Bergen Square. Van Tise’s Eagle Tavern (on present-day Bergen Avenue, between Glenwood Avenue and Montgomery Street) was a popular stop for rest and refreshment. Then travelers continued west to Brown's Ferry that crossed the Hackensack and Passaic Rivers. Bergen Hill also provided a panoramic view of New York harbor.
3. Bergen Square
Laid out by Jacques Cortelyou, the square measures 160 by 225 feet. For many years there was a well dug in the center, surrounded by troughs for cattle. During the War of 1812 a liberty pole was built in the center of the square, serving as a well-known navigational aid. By 1870 both the well and the pole were gone.
4. Schools Site
On the northeast corner of Bergen Square stands P.S. 11 (Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. School). In 1664 the first schoolhouse was built on this lot. From 1790 to 1857 the Columbia Academy stood here until it was replaced by the first of three public schools.
5. Peter Stuyvesant Statue
This bronze statue of Peter Stuyvesant by J. Massey Rhind was erected in 1913 and placed in Bergen Square. With the later increase in automobile traffic the statue was later moved to its present location in front of P.S. 11. Rhind was a well-known Scottish sculptor who worked regularly in the United States. Some of his other nearby work includes sculpture on Princeton University's Alexander Hall and Pyne Library, the dramatic statue of Washington in Newark's Washington Park, the bronze doors of the Chapel of the Good Shepherd at the General Theological Seminary in New York City, as well as some of Trinity Church Wall Street's bronze doors. The inscription at the base of the Stuyvesant statue includes the charter that created Bergen in 1660.
6. Van Wagenen House (“The Apple Tree House”)
The Van Wagenen House, at 298 Academy Street between Bergen Avenue and Van Reipen Street, is one of the best-known and most significant structures in Jersey City. It was built on land owned by the Van Wagenen-Cokelet family for a remarkable 279 years.
According to New Jersey City University professor Carmela Karnoutsos, the original Dutch colonial house dates to the 1740s while the rest of the building was constructed in the 1820s. In 1947 the house was sold and was transformed into the Quinn Funeral Home, which is probably best remembered as the site of the wake for Frank Hague in 1956. The house was allowed to deteriorate throughout the 1990s, but has recently undergone a restoration.
The house gained its nickname thanks to a legend that in 1779 George Washington and Marquis de Lafayette met to discuss strategy under a large apple tree that stood in the garden. When Lafayette returned to Bergen during a farewell tour of the United States he was in fact presented with a cane made from the tree, which had blown down three years before. The inscription read, "Shaded the hero and his friend Washington in 1779; presented by the Corporation of Bergen in 1824."
7. Vroom Street Evangelical Free Church
In 1891, three couples met and organized the Norwegian Evangelical Free Church. The congregation's first home was on Third Street and Coles Street. In 1907 the congregation purchased property at 155 Vroom Street and dedicated this church in 1908. In 2003 a fire caused major damage to the church, which has since been restored.
8. Speer Cemetery
About 1857, Abraham Speer, while acting as sexton of the Bergen Reformed Church, laid out a burial ground that served as an annex to the church's cemeteries located just to the east. The cemetery has no connection with the Vroom Street Evangelical Free Church next door
9. Old Bergen Church and Cemetery
The establishment of the Dutch Reformed Church in 1662 fulfilled one of the requirements set by Stuyvesant for the fledgling colony. The church was the center of community life, providing a place for worship, fellowship and information. For many years notices from the court house in Hackensack were posted on the church door. In 1680 the first Dutch church in Bergen was constructed, near the corner of Bergen Avenue and Vroom Street. It was a small octagonal structure built of bricks, which had been brought from Holland. In 1773 a new church was built near the same site. This second church was in turn replaced by the current building, a graceful Greek Revival masterpiece at the corner of Bergen Avenue and Highland Avenue, built by William H. Kirk and Company of Newark. The walls of the current structure contain many sandstone blocks from the previous church buildings.
In 1997 the Old Bergen Church received a $540,620 matching grant from the New Jersey Historic Trust to restore the church to its original appearance.
10. St. Paul’s Church (Episcopal) in Bergen
Located at 38 Duncan Avenue, this rare woodframe Victorian was built in 1861 and significantly modified in 1888. This charming church with its unusual Norman-like tower was designed by noted ecclesiastical architect J. Remson Onderdonk, who was also responsible for the nearby St. John’s Free Episcopal Church on Summit Avenue.
Bibliography
Lovero, Joan Doherty. Hudson County: The Left Bank. Sun Valley: American Historical Press, 1999.
Robinson, Walter F. Old Bergen Township (Now Hudson County) in the American Revolution. Bayonne: Bayonne Bicentennial Committee, 1978.
Shalhoub, Patrick. Images of America: Jersey City. Dover NH: Arcadia Publishing, 1995.
Van Winkle, Daniel. Old Bergen. Jersey City: John W. Harrison, 1902
"Walking Tour of Bergen Square." A Bicentennial Project of Snyder High School, Rita M. Murphy, Social Studies Coordinator.
http://www.njcu.edu/programs/jchistory/home2.htm
Learn more about Jersey City history and preservation activities at www.jclandmarks.org
Presented by the Jersey City Landmarks Conservancy
I: INTRODUCTION
Hudson's Arrival
In the early 1600s the Dutch were not particularly interested in exploring North America. Instead, they turned their attention to the more lucrative tropics and Asia.
In 1609 an Englishman named Henry Hudson was hired by the Dutch to find a passage through North America to Asia. Unable to find the fabled "Northwest Passage" Hudson did report the discovery of a wide harbor surrounded by pleasant land.
New Netherland
Recognizing the value of Manhattan Island and the surrounding region, the Dutch quickly claimed all the land between the Delaware and Connecticut Rivers as "New Netherland".
Slowly the Dutch began to build settlements in their new territory, most importantly, New Amsterdam at the tip of Manhattan Island. There were a number of attempts to build a permanent settlement in present-day New Jersey, but each failed for a variety of reasons: hostility from the Indians, Dutch disorganization and the relatively small number of settlers. For example, in 1633 a trading post was set up by Michael Paulus, an agent of the Dutch West Indies Company, at "Aressick" on the Hudson River today's Paulus Hook.
Although the Dutch generally sought to purchase Indian land, there was considerable violence between both sides. In 1656 after a particularly violent episode (caused when an Indian girl was killed in Manhattan after attempting to eat a peach from an orchard) led to all the scattered Dutch settlers living on the west side of the Hudson to flee to New Amsterdam, the governor of New Netherland, Peter Stuyvesant, issued an ordinance declaring that all settlers must "concentrate themselves by the next spring in the form of towns, villages, and hamlets, so that they might be more effectively protected, maintained and defended against all assaults and attacks by the barbarians."
Two years later, Stuyvesant engineered the purchase of most of present-day Hudson County. For this real estate, the Indians received: 80 fathoms of wampum, 20 fathoms of cloth, 12 brass kettles, 1 double brass kettle, 6 guns, 2 blankets and 1/2 barrel of strong beer.
Bergen
In November of 1660, several families led by Tilman Van Vleck received permission for the creation of a new settlement called Bergen "in the new maize land." Jacques Cortelyou surveyed the land and planned a central square and four surrounding blocks. This was the first example in America of the design later known as the "Philadelphia Square."
There has been some speculation about the name "Bergen". There may have been Danes and Norwegians among the earliest settlers leading some to suggest that Bergen refers to the city in Norway or perhaps Bergen op Zoom in Holland. However, most authorities believe the word for "hill" or "mountain" is the likely source for a settlement built on a ridge.
In any event, most historians consider Bergen the first permanent European settlement in New Jersey, although Communipaw down the road came close when later in 1660 farmers formed a small village there.
Here’s one description of life in Bergen:
From their height the villagers looked over island-dotted and stream-divided meadows of tall sea-grass, swarming with wild fowl and rich with fish. Those bright, unstained expanses gave them mighty crops of salt hay for no trouble save that of harvesting it. They were crops that could not fail so long as the tides ran. Everywhere the salt tides were the Dutchman’s friend. He utilized high flood to bring craft close to his farms for easy loading or unloading. He used the ebb to help him to the bay and so to the market at New Amsterdam. He used the flood to help him home again. Indeed, his very land-roads were tidal; for the lower reaches to Paulus Hook and other shores were often under sea in the full-moon tides.
The Dutch lost control of New Netherland in 1664, yet the Dutch and their descendants retained a distinct identity well into the 19th century.
Bergen and the American Revolution
Located along the main coach road between Boston and Philadelphia, many prominent patriots passed through Bergen in the years leading to the American War for Independence Paul Revere rode by at least eight times, perhaps pausing for refreshment at Van Tise's Eagle Tavern.
Bergen was occupied by the British from 1776 to the end of the war. Most of the Dutch seem to have preferred staying out of the conflict. However, a few prominent citizens chose to support the American cause. Jennie Tuers (whose home was near the site of present-day Hudson Catholic High School) alerted George Washington to Benedict Arnold's betrayal. Bergen seems to have been a hotbed of spying activity as the Americans used the superb view of New York and the harbor seen from Bergen Hill.
Social Structure
At the top of Bergen’s social structure were the landowners, all or nearly all descendants of the original Dutch settlers. They rented land to tenants, who only had to pay rent and were sometimes able to save enough money to buy land of their own.
There were also field workers and household servants, often English, Scottish, Irish and German immigrants. They were responsible for supervising indentured servants and slaves, who were, of course, at the bottom of the settlement’s social structure.
In 1726, 18.4 % of Bergen County was classified as “Negro.” There were very few free blacks in the region until slavery was gradually ended by 1804. Nearly every landowning family owned slaves – both out of perceived necessity and as a measure of social status.
A 19th Century Vanishing Act
After the war, Bergen gradually began to lose its rural character as industrialization and the resulting population growth created the metropolis we recognize today. Piece by piece Bergen Township was broken up until it was absorbed into greater Jersey City in 1870.
Despite the fact that much of old Bergen has been lost, the few remaining landmarks serve as a poignant reminder that the history of European settlement in New Jersey started here.
II: THE TOUR
Enlarge Map
Disclaimer: This is an exterior self-guided walking tour only. Remain on public sidewalks and walkways. Residential, commercial and religious properties are privately owned. The JCLC will not be held legally responsible for trespassing. Furthermore, the JCLC cannot be held liable for any types of injuries incurred. Public and private construction sites abound. Venture forth at your own risk!
Please support Bergen Square businesses while on the tour. Stop at the many local restaurants, grocery stores and shops—and tell them the Jersey City Landmarks Conservancy sent you!
1. The Newkirk House (510 Summit Avenue)
This is one of the oldest structures in Jersey City. It was purchased by Mattheus Newkirk in 1690. Built of sandstone, brick and clapboard, it is a good example of 17th century Dutch architecture. The house remained in the Newkirk family for 200 years until it was sold in 1889. In 1928 the façade was altered to accommodate the realignment of Summit Avenue, but otherwise the structure remains essentially unchanged.
The Pennsylania Railroad cut is located just south of the Newkirk House. Created in the 1830s and 1840s this was the first railroad cut through Bergen Hill, marking the beginning of Jersey City's long history as a railroad hub.
2. Summit Avenue and Academy Street
Present-day Academy Street served as part of the 18th century coach road that linked Boston, New York and Philadelphia. Travelers heading south would take a ferry from New York across the Hudson to Paulus Hook. The coach would then carry them up Bergen Hill, past Prior's Mill, through Bergen Square. Van Tise’s Eagle Tavern (on present-day Bergen Avenue, between Glenwood Avenue and Montgomery Street) was a popular stop for rest and refreshment. Then travelers continued west to Brown's Ferry that crossed the Hackensack and Passaic Rivers. Bergen Hill also provided a panoramic view of New York harbor.
3. Bergen Square
Laid out by Jacques Cortelyou, the square measures 160 by 225 feet. For many years there was a well dug in the center, surrounded by troughs for cattle. During the War of 1812 a liberty pole was built in the center of the square, serving as a well-known navigational aid. By 1870 both the well and the pole were gone.
4. Schools Site
On the northeast corner of Bergen Square stands P.S. 11 (Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. School). In 1664 the first schoolhouse was built on this lot. From 1790 to 1857 the Columbia Academy stood here until it was replaced by the first of three public schools.
5. Peter Stuyvesant Statue
This bronze statue of Peter Stuyvesant by J. Massey Rhind was erected in 1913 and placed in Bergen Square. With the later increase in automobile traffic the statue was later moved to its present location in front of P.S. 11. Rhind was a well-known Scottish sculptor who worked regularly in the United States. Some of his other nearby work includes sculpture on Princeton University's Alexander Hall and Pyne Library, the dramatic statue of Washington in Newark's Washington Park, the bronze doors of the Chapel of the Good Shepherd at the General Theological Seminary in New York City, as well as some of Trinity Church Wall Street's bronze doors. The inscription at the base of the Stuyvesant statue includes the charter that created Bergen in 1660.
6. Van Wagenen House (“The Apple Tree House”)
The Van Wagenen House, at 298 Academy Street between Bergen Avenue and Van Reipen Street, is one of the best-known and most significant structures in Jersey City. It was built on land owned by the Van Wagenen-Cokelet family for a remarkable 279 years.
According to New Jersey City University professor Carmela Karnoutsos, the original Dutch colonial house dates to the 1740s while the rest of the building was constructed in the 1820s. In 1947 the house was sold and was transformed into the Quinn Funeral Home, which is probably best remembered as the site of the wake for Frank Hague in 1956. The house was allowed to deteriorate throughout the 1990s, but has recently undergone a restoration.
The house gained its nickname thanks to a legend that in 1779 George Washington and Marquis de Lafayette met to discuss strategy under a large apple tree that stood in the garden. When Lafayette returned to Bergen during a farewell tour of the United States he was in fact presented with a cane made from the tree, which had blown down three years before. The inscription read, "Shaded the hero and his friend Washington in 1779; presented by the Corporation of Bergen in 1824."
7. Vroom Street Evangelical Free Church
In 1891, three couples met and organized the Norwegian Evangelical Free Church. The congregation's first home was on Third Street and Coles Street. In 1907 the congregation purchased property at 155 Vroom Street and dedicated this church in 1908. In 2003 a fire caused major damage to the church, which has since been restored.
8. Speer Cemetery
About 1857, Abraham Speer, while acting as sexton of the Bergen Reformed Church, laid out a burial ground that served as an annex to the church's cemeteries located just to the east. The cemetery has no connection with the Vroom Street Evangelical Free Church next door
9. Old Bergen Church and Cemetery
The establishment of the Dutch Reformed Church in 1662 fulfilled one of the requirements set by Stuyvesant for the fledgling colony. The church was the center of community life, providing a place for worship, fellowship and information. For many years notices from the court house in Hackensack were posted on the church door. In 1680 the first Dutch church in Bergen was constructed, near the corner of Bergen Avenue and Vroom Street. It was a small octagonal structure built of bricks, which had been brought from Holland. In 1773 a new church was built near the same site. This second church was in turn replaced by the current building, a graceful Greek Revival masterpiece at the corner of Bergen Avenue and Highland Avenue, built by William H. Kirk and Company of Newark. The walls of the current structure contain many sandstone blocks from the previous church buildings.
In 1997 the Old Bergen Church received a $540,620 matching grant from the New Jersey Historic Trust to restore the church to its original appearance.
10. St. Paul’s Church (Episcopal) in Bergen
Located at 38 Duncan Avenue, this rare woodframe Victorian was built in 1861 and significantly modified in 1888. This charming church with its unusual Norman-like tower was designed by noted ecclesiastical architect J. Remson Onderdonk, who was also responsible for the nearby St. John’s Free Episcopal Church on Summit Avenue.
Bibliography
Lovero, Joan Doherty. Hudson County: The Left Bank. Sun Valley: American Historical Press, 1999.
Robinson, Walter F. Old Bergen Township (Now Hudson County) in the American Revolution. Bayonne: Bayonne Bicentennial Committee, 1978.
Shalhoub, Patrick. Images of America: Jersey City. Dover NH: Arcadia Publishing, 1995.
Van Winkle, Daniel. Old Bergen. Jersey City: John W. Harrison, 1902
"Walking Tour of Bergen Square." A Bicentennial Project of Snyder High School, Rita M. Murphy, Social Studies Coordinator.
http://www.njcu.edu/programs/jchistory/home2.htm
Learn more about Jersey City history and preservation activities at www.jclandmarks.org
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