Change

Delivered at the Wednesday Eucharist at the National Association of Episcopal Christian Communities, May 22, 2024

Micah 4:1-4; Psalm 2; Luke 23:26-32

Commemoration of St. Helena of Constantinople

Oh, my what a journey we go on in today’s readings.

We began with Micah and his beautiful vision of a world restored, of peace, of an end to conflict. We went from there to one of my favorite Psalms, Psalm 2, and it seems like we’ve gone backward a bit, because, in our Prayer Book Psalter, the nations are “in an uproar” and plotting against the Lord’s anointed one. And in Luke’s Gospel we have to address the Crucifixion, as Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem on the way to his death at the hands of Rome and worldly power.

We certainly see the nations in an uproar these days, although that is, in reality, nothing new. There seems no end to conflict. Our country is socially and politically polarized. Micah’s vision seems as far away and unreachable as ever. But in the Gospel we see a facet of Jesus that is sometimes overlooked, and points to something that is critical to the Church today.

What took my mind toward this part of Jesus’ mission was that last week, at a college commencement address, a football player made statements saying essentially that the most important place for women to be was in the home, having children. You may have heard of it. He said other things as well, and there has been a lot of negative reaction.

Whether taken out of context or not, it got me to thinking about the place of women in the Church, and how that has changed over the last several decades, and what this means for the Church in the future. And took this sermon somewhere I hadn’t intended to go.

In the Stations of the Cross reflections written by Fr. Timothy Radcliffe, a past Master of the Roman Catholic Dominican Order, he makes the point that, all during his path to the Cross, that long journey on foot, Jesus only speaks to women. We saw an example of this in tonight’s Gospel. At this penultimate moment in his earthly ministry, our Lord chooses to speak to women.

Luke’s Gospel probably gives a higher place to women than any other Gospel. Starting with Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, through Mary, the mother of our Lord, to Anna, the prophetess at the Temple, to the women who helped pay the costs of Jesus’ ministry, to the women watching the crucifixion, being first at the empty tomb, and being the first to tell the disciples of the resurrection, women are everywhere in Luke, facilitating the spread of the Kingdom of God.

And I found myself thinking of those women of Jerusalem, whom Jesus warned of doom to come. I wonder if any went on to become followers of The Way.

I found myself thinking about Mary Magdalene, the “apostle to the apostles.” And what about Junia, Phoebe, Chloë, Priscilla, and other women mentioned by St. Paul? Where would we be without their witness and their effect on the fledgeling Church?

And I thought of how later on, these women were forgotten or marginalized.

And then my mind went further to women such as Teresa of Avila, St. Catherine of Siena (Dominican, yay!), and Julian of Norwich, all of whom had profound influences on the Church, even with the restrictions placed on them as women.

And I think of St. Helena, whom we celebrate today. There are a lot of stories and myths about her.  We can argue as to whether she really found a piece of the true cross, or whether the sites of the Nativity or the Ascension she discovered were the real thing. But I really don’t think that matters a great deal. We do know that she had churches built at these locations, and worked to preserve the sites, providing a focus of devotion to generations and generations of believers.

For a long time, women were told that it was not their place to be ordained clergy. Then, the Episcopal Church was forced to actually listen to the Holy Spirit.

We are currently meeting in the Episcopal Diocese of Missouri, my own diocese, and — if I have counted correctly on the diocesan website — 13 out of 19 deacons in this diocese are women. 27 out of 56 priests that are canonically resident are women, including the Canon to the Ordinary and the Dean of the Cathedral.

I know many of these female clergy personally. Some of them belong to communities represented here. But they are all awesome servants of God. I have trouble conceiving where our diocese would be without these women. A lot can happen in a few decades when you actually listen to the Holy Spirit.

What does all this mean to us who have chosen the religious life?

Simply put, it shows how the Church can change.

The Church is changing again now. It has always changed when it had to, although often not until it was forced to. In St. Helena’s day it had to deal with the fact that it was no longer just one religion among many, that it had, instead, become the preferred religion. I’d like to say that went really well, but…there were problems. We need to do better.

The Episcopal Church changed with the realization that women could be deacons and priests and bishops. That work is not yet complete, but…we’re getting there.

 The Episcopal Church changed again with the realization that LGBTQ+ people could be deacons and priests and bishops. That work is not complete either, but…we’re getting there.

Now it is going to have to change again.

You only have to look at initiatives begun by some of our individual dioceses to see that our leadership knows we have to change. In this diocese, I was part of the team for the Diocesan Vitality Initiative, a program that is supposed to be rolled out for the whole Church. We were one of 4 pilot dioceses, looking for new ways to be the church. We were lucky, because we had already done that work with a program called Requiem or Renaissance, in which my own tiny parish participated. We learned about things we needed to let die in order that our parish could thrive.

And we can moan and complain about how things aren’t like they used to be, something of an Episcopalian tradition. We can say to ourselves “not yet.” Or we can get on with the work.

We religious should be leading the way in church renewal. Yes, through prayer, which we are all very good at, but also by showing up. By listening to the Holy Spirit, even when she is speaking in a way we don’t expect. By helping the church do the hard work. It’s nice to sit back in contemplation and prayer, but these need to bear fruit or they are worthless. So, as Bishop Deon said, let’s go into the heart of our charisms. Let’s see where each of our particular gifts are needed within our dioceses and put them out there.

Bishop Dion made the point that a person in a habit is less intimidating than someone in a clergy collar. Let’s work that! Let’s be the face of the welcome that people are looking for.

We must help the church change, even if it makes us uncomfortable. Even if we’re a little scared by it. Even if it’s hard work. When the Holy Spirit is speaking, “not yet” may be the worst thing we can say to ourselves, so let’s decide now we’re not going to do that.

Instead, when the Spirit speaks, let’s say, “Yes, now.”

Amen.