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On Friday I learned a lot about this community and I would like to start off by saying that I am very proud that Erica and I are now a part of it. But sermons need to be more than just self-congratulations, so I would like to share with you something of what I learned and why.
About mid-day, I was on the phone with Loree+ getting the latest update on the condition of Andrew Curley. Things were far from certain, but at the same time were not good. They had him attached to a ventilator and his brain had begun to swell. As Kelly and Marie and I were fielding a bunch of concerned calls, I asked Loree+ what we should tell folks who asked of Andrew’s condition. She said that she had talked to Mike and that their opinion was that we "tell the truth."
"Tell the truth," she said. Don’t hold back or glass over or try and candy coat the reality of what is going on here. "Tell the truth." What we are experiencing in this community this week is a profound tragedy, something that we could try to sweep under the rug, or protect each other from, but we won’t. As painful and unpleasant as it may be, we should tell the truth. And so we did.
Now truth telling should not be something that strikes any of us as an odd or unusual response. I mean, from the time we are little, the virtue of truthfulness is set before us as both a goal and a guiding principle. And even though, as we age, we perceive some benefit in deceit – particularly if we think it will help others – there is always that little voice in the back of our head reminding us that "honesty is the best policy." So why am I making such a big deal about this seemingly simple choice on the part of an obviously anxious father to "tell the truth?" because in the context of our common Christian life it can be so much more.
Today’s scripture readings are all about prophesy. Each of the authors, in his own, unique way is trying to give us practical advice about what we should expect when and if we decide to don the mantle of prophet. But, as contemporary Christians, we tend to gloss over these readings, wondering how they might apply to us in our everyday life, because, for most of us, the notion of being a prophet is entirely foreign to both our identity and our aspirations. Prophets are those characters from the Old Testament who wear funny clothes (or no clothes at all) and wander around proclaiming the impending doom of the world. They are the professional gadflies of every generation who feed on the anxieties of the populous or just get a huge kick out of saying "I told you so," thumbing their collective noses at the representatives of the status quo. Or perhaps, in a more generous light, they are those visionary people among us who are specially chosen by God to deliver a message of hope to the marginalized or to predict the coming downfall of the powers and principalities of this world, the hoped for "day of the Lord" breaking into our reality.
As I think about the legacy of prophets in our tradition, I can see where all of these descriptions are appropriate. But I believe that, at its core, prophecy is far simpler and far more profound than any of these notions might have us believe. Prophecy is about truth telling. Prophecy is telling the Truth – no matter what.
But what is this truth that we are bound, in our prophetic voice to tell? Is it simply a "just the facts" recounting of just those pieces of data which are somehow scientifically or philosophically verifiable? I would suggest not. If this were all there was to the truth then there would be no need for prophecy, everyone, just by the act of looking around would immediately be aware of the truth of any situation. On the contrary, the Truth, as we believe it, and are bound to proclaim it, is epistemologically different – something that transcends facts and figures and even logic and reason.
The Truth, as it has been revealed, throughout the ages to the people and prophets of God is nothing less than God’s Word incarnate in the life death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. More than being a once for all historical fact, the Truth of Jesus is a view on the world that changes the way we, as a prophetic people view, understand and share those verifiable realities, which the world calls "facts." The Truth is that God is with us, that nothing that happens happens outside of God’s knowledge. The truth is that God cares for us and loves us. The Truth is that God is working, in all things, with us and for us, even when it seems unclear just how. The truth is that there is always hope, even in the darkest times of our lives, because God is still in charge. This is the truth. All we have to do is tell it. It’s just that simple.
Simple, yes; easy, no. If we look again at today’s readings, we see that they are rife with advice from their various authors about the inherent challenges to the prophetic mission. Ezekiel and Mark both point out the ways in which the world is not ready for the truth, even though it is desperately in need of it. "I am sending you to a nation of rebels," says the voice of God to the inspired Ezekiel, "they and their ancestors have rebelled against me," have ignored the truth that I have revealed to them, "to this very day." These so called rebels are the ordinary people of the world, un-prepared for the truth of the Gospel. But they are no nameless horde; Mark refines the harsh reality of the prophet’s situation by placing Jesus among his own kin and kindred. Even those closest to us, he seems to say, may resist the truth of the Gospel. But press on, God reminds us. "Whether they hear or not," God reminds Ezekiel, is none of our concern. If we are committed to telling the truth, "they will know that there has been a prophet among them."
And then there is the voice of Paul. Nuancing the unpreparedness of the world even further by point out the ways in which even those of us who are committed to telling the truth are not always prepared for our own message. Yes, sometimes even the prophet himself is not ready to receive the Truth which he proclaims. It is easy, in my experience to get – as Paul says – "too elated," when you start believing that the truth which you speak is always full of joy and benefit. So Paul calls our attention to those instances, which invariably arise, and focus our attention on the ways in which the truth challenges even us. Those "thorns in the side" which send us running back to God in complaint. But his answer is always the same: "My Grace," my truth, is the way things really are, it "is sufficient for you."
And this, I think, is where we find ourselves, as a community this week. In what I have experienced of Saint James Parish up to and including this week, I have found this congregation to be a gathering of prophets, a group of brothers and sisters in Christ who are committed to telling the truth. But we have been faced with a challenge in the past few days, a challenge wherein the Truth is painful, even for us. A young man’s life has been tragically and indelibly changed; and the reasons for that change are not yet clear. Our initial reaction may be to shy away from the truth in this instance, to forsake our responsibility to the notion that God has a hand in all of this and begin to proclaim something less in order to save ourselves and others from the pain of this reality. But this is not the vocation to which God has called us. The life of the prophet is not always easy, particularly when the people least prepared to hear the truth are the prophets themselves. But the challenge remains. In the midst of hardship, in the midst of thorns, the truth remains. God is in control of this and every situation. And where God is, there hope remains. This is the truth my brothers and sisters. Search for it and you will find it. Then go forth, O Mortals, tell the truth and they will know that there has been a prophet among them.
Amen
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