Holy Cross Day, 2010
Sermon by Bishop Paul Marshall
My first word tonight needs to be “congratulations.”
Congratulations are in order because the parishioners and friends of Trinity
Church have done something remarkable. Led by your thinking-outside-the-box
rector and devoted lay people, you have turned a potential disaster into a
sparkling addition that will enhance your community life and better serve your
neighborhood.
What has happened here has an element of paradox
worthy of Gilbert and Sullivan: your seeming disaster has become a striking
achievement. The recipe was, take one set of problems, add creativity, love,
and sacrifice, and then, find something new and beautiful. Congratulations.
And I need to say Thank You, as well. You made the
New Hope campaign a part of your capital project, building into your care of
your physical plant care for others in Sudan and Northeast Pennsylvania. That
will remain an important witness in the life of this diocese.
It is hard to imagine a better day to celebrate the
newness we see here than Holy Cross Day. The lessons for Holy Cross Day remind
us that God’s recipe was and is a paradoxical one, too. The agonizing and
humiliating instrument of death became for Jesus a powerful instrument of life.
He says, “When I am lifted up from the earth, then will I draw all people to
myself.” That is, his faithfulness, integrity, and sacrificial love faithful
love, call me, call you, from shallow, pointless, and misdirected lives to life
in abundance. The cross that would otherwise repel us draws us in. When I
listen to and see him with his arms extended there, I want to step into his
embrace.
Encountering Christ on the cross means mean being saved in every way
you can be saved.
There is even more. As the great Ascension hymn says,
“The Head that once was crowned with thorns is crowned with glory now.” That
is, Jesus’ giving of himself for the sake of others was his path to new life,
to glory. The carpenter sits at the right hand of God because he was faithful
to his calling to love the world.
The older I get, the less willing I am to argue the
technicalities of theology—or anything else—life is increasingly too short. But
what I know in my bones, what I know from having lived this long, is that when
Jesus says that we must die to live, that we must surrender self and take up
our cross, he is telling the truth, telling God’s honest, paradoxical truth—and
offering us all he has.
Each of us knows from small and great experiences
that when we have surrendered a bit of ourselves for the good of our children,
our friends, the Sudanese, or the stranger on the street, we are changed. When
we patiently answer the third email from the person who just doesn’t get it, we
are changed. When we don’t give in to painful circumstances, we
are changed.
No less a source than the New York Times ran a feature on couples
and families who are rediscovering life because of the economic downturn. They
are spending more time together, rediscovering nature, and re-appropriating the
truth that entertainment can be active as well as passive. We might call it
life beyond PlayStation.
I do not in any way suggest that the recession that
is eroding the future for us Baby Boomers and costing the jobs of so many in
all generations is a good thing. I am saying that the families profiled in the
Times article chose an alternative to despair, depression, or worse. They chose
to make a life for themselves in the face of what is, and have been changed by
doing so.
Many of the gifts that made this project happen came
from people of average means who were willing to sacrifice for what they
believed in. Even after a 30-million dollar gift, the Metropolitan Opera ended
last season with a deficit. At a time in our history when rich people are
giving less, and many Christians are growing cautious, even skeptical about
stewardship, your parish has given a vital witness to what we can do together.
The courage to be faithful to who you are and
faithful to the Lord you love is at the core of transformation. The action by
which God saves the world is the principle by which life is lived most fully.
We who have been drawn to Christ and seek to imitate him grow, bit by bit and
day by day, into his likeness. Fully human yet children of God.
The necessity of restoring Trinity’s facilities was forced upon you, but you didn’t take the quick fix, or the ugly fix. You took the calm, creative fix that has given those who will worship here better music, better space, and better tools to serve the hungry. In taking that creative, thorough, and sacrificial road you have given us another glimpse of the life shaped by the Cross of Christ, and I thank God for you and for your leadership.
Comments