Holy Cross Day 2015
Frazelle, 9-13-2015, COTC 9, 11:15, 4pm Carol Woods
At our church staff meeting this past week, we laughed about the
challenge of preaching this occasion. It is our parish’s feast day, the feast of the
Holy Cross, at the Chapel of the Cross. Today is also what many parishes call
“Rally Sunday,” the day when everyone is back from summer and Labor Day
vacations, into a new academic year rhythm, and at the threshold of a new year
of service, worship, fellowship and formation. Also, this year in particular, we
stand at the end of the 30-year tenure of our beloved, devoted, and
extraordinarily gifted Rector. We know an interim Rector is coming with the
highest recommendations and qualifications, but we do not yet know him or what
changes will come or how soon they will come. And so we rally together on our
parish feast day with a mixture of grief, anxiety and excitement. We are also
painfully aware of the crises in the news - the international refugee crisis, the
ongoing crisis in race relations in our nation, and the consequences of our abuse
of God’s creation. So as a staff, we laughed about the task of saying something
profound about this feast day, the Scriptures, this pivotal point in the life of the
parish, and current events, while being sensitive to the need for a shorter-thanusual sermon. We chuckled because it seemed impossible.
But one of the dangers of working in a church or being part of a church for
a long time is that we get so used to knowing certain, basic truths that we forget
to say what we know. There is a profound truth that encompasses every reality in
our common life on this occasion. And this truth can be proclaimed succinctly. As
Christians, we see the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ as the heart of all
reality. As Christians, we see the paschal mystery of the death and resurrection
of Jesus as the heart of all reality. The empty cross is the symbol of that mystery
of the death and resurrection of Jesus. And so as we celebrate the feast of the
Holy Cross as The Chapel of the Cross, we are claiming the lens through which
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we view everything that’s going on in our lives, everything that’s going on in our
parish, and everything going on in the world.
When we view our Rector transition from the foot of the cross with this
Christian lens, we see both death and life. A good and holy and life-giving
relationship with our Rector, Stephen, is coming to an end. That’s a death. And a
new relationship with an interim Rector and then a new Rector is about to come
to birth. That’s new life. As Christians who see the death and risen life of Jesus at
the heart of all reality, we can grieve the death without fearing it, and we can
embrace the new life without fearing it, either.
When we look at the beginning of a new academic year, there too we can
see death and life. We can look squarely at the fact that the summer is over and
some students have graduated and left, and some people have moved away,
and still others have departed this life for the next, and we are not quite the same
people we were one year ago. As people who live at the foot of the empty cross,
we can be with one another in that grief. And we can embrace the promise of
new life in the year ahead - new life for those from whom we are separated, and
new life for ourselves.
When we see the tragedies and crises of our day, we recognize in them
the ongoing suffering and death of the body of Christ on earth. We pray for new
life. Whenever possible, we act for new life. For example, I just learned that one
of our longest-standing parish leaders has proposed that we sponsor a refugee
or a refugee family. As people who view reality through the empty cross, we can
face the suffering of the world with hope and without paralysis. For we know that
we are not alone. We are part of God’s movement of new life.
So we stand at the threshold of a new year, and a new chapter in our
parish, grieving what is dying, and open to new life. We can hold these conflicting
movements of grief and joy because we are people of the cross. The empty
cross shows us that the stories of our lives, the story of our parish, the stories in
the news, and all stories are part of the larger story of the death and resurrection
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of Jesus. We do not hold this mystery. This mystery holds us. We need not fear.
There is no death without new life. There is nothing that this year can bring us
that God will not encompass and bring to new life. All we need to do is stay open
and grounded, and God will continue to show us the way forward and use even
our mistakes and failures for the upbuilding of God’s kingdom. Because we are
the Chapel of the Cross, we can move forward with this faith and confidence that
St. Paul expresses to the Philippians at a pivotal point in the life of that church.
He wrote, “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the
sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may
attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or
have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ
Jesus has made me his own. Beloved,” he continues, “this one thing I do:
forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on
towards the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” As
people of the cross who see the death and resurrection of Christ at the heart of
all reality, we press on in peace. We press on in confidence. We press on in
hope.
Collect: bottom of page 280 BCP