+One of my tasks, as the Bishop’s Canon, is to keep an eye on things. I have a wide variety of responsibilities, but they all fit under the umbrella of one task: making sure that what we’re doing; on the parish level, the diocesan level and throughout the wider church, is dedicated to expanding the Body of Christ in whatever ways the Holy Spirit is calling us to be the Body of Christ in this world, at this time and in this place vs. hanging on to theologies, practices and procedures that were well-suited for another time and perhaps a different place.
In other words, my job is to keep us, as a diocese, moving forward—looking ahead while still respecting and honoring all that has been. To be Christ’s body in the world, we must be a living breathing, adapting organism of faith and hope and love. And that isn’t always easy!
How many of you are familiar with the Prayer of Humble Access? I don’t know if it’s your practice to recite it when using Rite 1 as we are today, but the prayer goes like this:
“We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy. Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.”
This is one of those prayers, one of those icons of our institutional faith that people either love or loathe. Frankly, for years I fell into the loathe camp. When I first encountered it, I decided I didn’t like it and just moved on, never challenging my verdict and usually reciting it with a bit of disdain in my heart.
That is, until I heard the foreshadowing of it in today’s Gospel. A Roman centurion has asked Jesus to heal his slave, but before Jesus can arrive, the slave dies and the centurion sends this message to Jesus:
“Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed.”
The scene in the Gospel is amazing---two outsiders, one who was the enemy of the Jesus Movement and the other, a slave, a non-person in the eyes of the Romans---become intimately connected to this wandering, odd, rabbi from Nazareth. The old is giving way to the new, what was despised is becoming cherished.
In our reading from the Book of Kings’, Solomon stands on the steps of his newly completed temple, praying that all those drawn to this amazing edifice, will come to understand that the God worshiped there is a God for all people, no exceptions. Read through a 21st century lens, these words drip with irony as, for most of its history, the temple in Jerusalem has been fought over by people trying to maintain their version of the institutional status quo, avoiding, at great cost, a move into the unfamiliar and the new.
In both our reading from King’s and our reading from Luke we’re reminded that the growth of the church-- that the spread of the Body of Christ in this world--is a journey into the unfamiliar and a trip down the road of unknowing.
Our Christian faith, if it’s going well, should be, at
times, uncomfortable. Because our faith, if it’s to grow and flourish, must accept the new, embrace the different, and welcome the unfamiliar. If we stay in what’s familiar, if we fail to listen with fresh ears and see with newly opened eyes, if we listen to the same old people saying the same old things and refuse to listen to the new, the different and the uncomfortable, then instead of being Christ’s body in this world we’re just a lifeless corpse hanging on a cross.
So what does any of this have to do with the Prayer of Humble Access and my opinion of it? Lots.
As I read today’s Gospel and heard the familiar prose of the Prayer of Humble Access I began to wrestle with my assumptions and my opinions. I looked for something new wrapped up in the old; I looked for something fresh out of the familiar. And I realized that what I didn’t like about the prayer was the exact thing I needed to embrace about the prayer!
I always heard this prayer as a hymn of self-loathing-- that we couldn’t receive communion until we were convinced that we were worthless worms and that it’s only through the mercy of God that we aren’t thrown into eternal damnation and hellfire.
Well guess what? While God never wants us to loathe ourselves we aren’t—and never can be—worthy of God’s grace and mercy. Hear me clearly--although we can never earn it, we also can never ever lose it.
So, we have two choices: forget and reject it or remember and embrace it. God isn’t the fickle one, we are.
We can get so caught up in the institutional part of church we forget the Body of Christ part of church---our readings this morning remind us that ours is an ever-changing faith: the way we worship God, the way we strive to be God in the Flesh on earth, is always evolving, changing and becoming something all together new. As Solomon prayed for on the temple steps, as Jesus recognized in the faith of the Centurion, as I discovered when I read the prayer of humble access with fresh eyes, being the body of Christ in the world requires that we embrace the different, accept the new and reach out to the stranger; because when we do, our faith is enriched, our worship takes on new meaning and our God, the God who loves everyone always no exceptions? Well when we look at the familiar from a new perspective and when we welcome change instead of fearing it, that God shouts Alleluia and Amen!+
Plus, a prayer for Memorial Day:
Gracious and loving God, we remember, this day, those men and women who, in service to our country, gave their lives so that we could enjoy all the wonders this country offers.
We thank you for their bravery. We ask your blessings on those who were left behind: mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, sons, daughters and all who loved them. May the hole in their hearts be healed, at least in part, through the balm of our gratitude. In Jesus’ name we pray, AMEN.
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