I've just come back from the General Assembly of our denomination, held in Birmingham, Alabama, where I believe the two principal decisions were these:
First, this year's GA adopted what is, in my opinion, a balanced and constructive statement on Israel and Palestine as a replacement for what I regard as the one-sided statement made by the GA two years ago. Perhaps you read the lengthy report of this action published in last Thursday's New York Times.
And second, this year's General Assembly issued an Authoritative Interpretation of one particular section of our constitution. This interpretation states clearly that candidates for ordination as elders, deacons, and ministers of Word and Sacrament may declare a conscientious scruple about any portion of the constitution that a session or presbytery deems to be not an "essential" element of Presbyterian faith and practice. And it's widely acknowledged that this year's Authoritative Interpretation will allow some sessions and presbyteries—such as ours—to rule that living in a committed relationship does not exclude from ordination otherwise well-qualified gays and lesbians. This action by our GA was mentioned briefly in Wednesday's New York Times and described at much greater length in yesterday's paper.
Now, it's the practice at General Assemblies to pause for a minute of prayer prior to crucial votes. And before this Assembly's vote on the Authoritative Interpretation, the Moderator of the Assembly, the Reverend Joan Gray, led us not only in prayer but also in an extended guided meditation. And as I was participating in that, it occurred to me that this same meditation would also be appropriate for us here today. So please join me now in the spiritual exercise used by our Moderator, Joan Gray.
Please, close your eyes (pause briefly) and imagine yourself now standing outside our church building, on the sidewalk (pause). You're looking inside the church, through the glass doors (pause), and your gaze stretches down the center aisle (pause) until it comes to rest on the front wall with its arch and rose window (pause).
Now out there on the sidewalk, imagine yourself opening one of those glass doors and physically entering the church (pause). You pass through the outer vestibule (pause), and then the inner narthex (pause). You enter into the sanctuary itself (pause), walk down the center aisle (pause), toward the communion table (pause).
Now, imagine yourself touching the table and tracing its outline (pause). Then from the inner recesses of your heart bring up your deepest desire for this beloved community of faith of ours, what you most hope it will be or become as you move into the future (pause). And finally, imagine yourself placing that heartfelt desire of yours on the communion table as an offering to God (pause).
OK. I invite you now to slowly open your eyes again (pause), and in your consciousness to return to this present moment (pause).
I hope you'll all want to share with me later what it was that emerged from the inner recesses of your heart during this meditation, what it is that's your deepest desire for this community of faith as you move on together into the future, what desire it is that you've now placed as an offering to God on the table of Christ. Perhaps you'll share this with me at the door on your way out, or during the coffee hour, or during the many hours on Monday through Friday of this week when I'm available to you in my office.
But let me tell you right now what it was that came from the depths of my heart last Tuesday, when the Moderator was leading the GA in this spiritual exercise.
Now mind you, when Joan Gray asked us to do this I'd already chosen this morning's scripture passages. Indeed, I'd just been re-reading them that very morning in my hotel room before heading to the convention center. So I wasn't at all surprised that it was these that somehow emerged as a focus for my personal meditation.
Well, last Tuesday, as I came, in my imagination, to be standing here at this communion table, there sprang into my mind and heart the opening words—yes, in Hebrew—of Psalm 133. And these words came to me in the form of the setting of this psalm that's sung round the world by myriads of Jewish groups and congregations: (sing) "Hinneh mah-tov umah-na'im shevet 'achim gam-yachad." (say) "Behold how good and pleasant it is when sisters and brothers sit together in unity."
Now, in our Christian history, this psalm has most often been recited precisely here, around the communion table. For it is at this table that God is at work building up a family of faith that can transcend all the barriers to community that humankind sinfully erects—barriers like race, and ethnicity, and class, and gender, and sexual orientation.
Yes, what a delight it is to gather together with other believers here at this table, where God is so fully and so inclusively present. "Behold how good and pleasant it is when sisters and brothers sit together in unity."
Our Executive Presbyter, the Reverend Arabella Meadows-Rogers, put it this way in the presbytery's April newletter. She wrote: "An acquaintance ... called and asked me to do something on a Saturday night. I said yes, but I wanted to start early. Her response was, 'oh, yes, you have to go to church on Sunday'. I said, no, 'I WANT to go to church on Sunday; I GET to go to church on Sunday."
(sing) "Hinneh mah-tov umah-na'im shevet 'achim gam-yachad."
So that was the first of the heartfelt desires for this beloved community of faith that I placed on the communion table last Tuesday during the guided meditation: my desire that throughout the years ahead you will all continue to gather in unity and harmony around this table of Christ—and that you will gather here not because you have to, but because you want to; not because you must, but because you may.
Now, last Tuesday Moderator Gray allowed us sufficient time for our meditation that I was also able to turn my mind and heart to the other passage from scripture I'd been reading that very morning: the one that's today's Second Lesson, Paul's farewell to the Christians he knew so well in the Macedonian city of Philippi, the very first church he had helped to found on the continent of Europe.
"Farewell! I wish you all joy in the Lord. Again I say, all joy be yours!" (vs. 4)
I find it both intriguing and inspiring that in the Greek language of Paul's day one person would bid another farewell by saying, "May all joy be yours."
Now in bidding farewell to his beloved church in Philippi, Paul adds a distinctively Christian touch by saying, "May all joy be yours in the Lord"—in Christ Jesus. Paul wishes his friends a joy rooted not in wealth or in worldly honors, but rooted instead in what God has done for humankind through Christ Jesus.
And Paul then proceeds to express a heartfelt desire for them, which is, as well, a heartfelt desire of mine for you—that this beloved Christian community will continue to grow in modeling for the world the same magnificent virtues modeled by none other than Jesus himself. And the following are the virtues of Jesus that Paul happens to mention in this passage:
Practicing gentleness, which is to say, practicing the magnanimity and generosity toward others that is love—a virtue hard to find these days in our nation and city, and therefore one that's all the more essential for us to embody. Practicing gentleness.
Living without anxiety—a virtue hard to develop during a period of transition like the one lying ahead of us, and therefore a virtue that's all the more necessary for our well being. Living without anxiety.
Praying with thanksgiving—both for the rich past of this congregation and for the promising future that is yet to unfold. Praying with thanksgiving.
And finally, focusing on what is true, what is honorable, what is just, what is pure, what is pleasing, what is commendable, what is excellent and worthy of praise. Now, none of these focuses would appear to be easy for us in this time and place of ours, where, as headlined so succinctly in the lead editorial of last Friday's New York Times, our government seems intent—contrary to the example of Jesus—on "Comforting the Comfortable" while "Afflicting the Afflicted." No, like Jesus we are to focus on what is true and just and worthy of praise.
So in conclusion, these two thoughts express my heartfelt desires for this community of faith as you now proceed into your future: that you will sit in unity and harmony around this table, and that you will model for the world Christ-like virtues, by practicing gentleness, by living without anxiety,by praying with thanksgiving, and by focusing on whatever is true and just and worthy of praise. For through these, in Christ Jesus, lies all joy.
And so my beloved family in Christ, "Farewell! I wish you all joy in Christ Jesus. And again I say, all joy be yours!"