Rocks and our Redeemer

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling Vestry, Retreat: Church of the Redeemer

How is our Church in general, and Church of the Redeemer in particular, identified today?  Are we a faithful religious witness to the Jesus Movement? Are we a spiritual Body that reveals God’s love, which is liberating, life-giving, and visible in human flesh? That moves beyond the boundaries of our skin and our church walls? Are we living stones that proclaim with joy the good news of Jesus Christ, the chief cornerstone of our Church?

The letter to the Ephesians reminds the Church that we have a purpose. We are called to equip others in the work of ministry, to build up the Body of Christ in love, until all are united. Speaking the truth in love, we can grow into the full stature of Christ, who is the head of our Body and our Church. With a diversity of gifts, we are joined together, and with each part working properly, we will promote spiritual growth in ourselves, at Redeemer, and beyond its walls. With clear identity and purpose, you will serve Christ as vestry leaders with greater balance, focus, and power.

When I left parish ministry, after serving as the rector of St. James Church in Glastonbury, Connecticut for 10 years, I felt that God was calling me to serve in new and different ways. My unexpected three year transition took me to the Cathedral Church in Dublin, Ireland for 3 months, a Spanish immersion in Barcelona, Spain for 6 weeks, and two search processes, one in South America and another in Maryland. Having finally sold our suburban home in Connecticut, my husband Paul and I purchased a condominium in East Cambridge in 2015.

We could not be happier with our personal choice; and yet initially, as a priest, I felt like an immigrant, an itinerant traveler who left home in one country and felt lost in a new land. I felt unmoored as a Christian, still identifying myself as an Episcopalian, but not anchored in any one parish. I was spiritually free but too free-floating, blown about by the winds of uncertainty and sadness. Not wanting to limit my gifts to one parish only, I claimed my identity as a missionary and evangelist. Feeling somewhat isolated, and searching for spiritual strength, comfort, and courage, I found a religious community here at Bethany House, and my spiritual life was renewed once again.

In 2016, I met with my bishop and other clergy and began to make connections. Over time, with discernment in community, I became involved with our new mission strategy in this diocese. I love our headlines which are based upon scripture passages: to embrace brave change, to reimagine our congregations, build our relationships, and engage our world. Based upon the letter to the Ephesians, we wrote: “Blessed by the manifold charism of all of our diverse members and congregations, we will strengthen the bonding ligaments between individuals, congregations and diocesan bodies. Honoring the contributions of every generation and working across differences to build each other up in love, we will share our varied gifts with one another and our world.”

In my first meditation today, I invited you to focus on your personal identity as a Christian leader, using the analogy of the Body of Christ. Now I’d like to shift that focus to your communal identity as vestry leaders of Church of the Redeemer, using rocks or stones as a symbol for your reflections. Stones, like those in St. Anne’s Chapel, hold memories, and memories speak to us. Let me begin with a memory that I bring with me today.

During the summer of 2016, when I had not yet been appointed as the co-chair of our mission strategy team or as acting dean of our Cathedral Church, I found myself with more time on my hands than I like. I am an Enneagram #3, an achiever, a high energy person who seeks meaningful work, and wants to get the job done! I am too much content and not enough process. Paul and I have a family home on the Cape to which I retreated that summer. Looking for things to do, I decided to make a small pathway around our outside shower with stones from the beach.

Every day, I would walk down to the beach with cloth bags, pick up heavy stones from the beach, and carry them back to the house. I picked them up and put them down, along with my thoughts and my prayers. It took me all summer to finish the walkway, and today, I am very proud of my efforts and the result. It is a memory of a time when I was sad and empty, as well as a time in which I was literally laying down a pathway for God. I still yearned for new opportunities to serve, and yet with tears, I realized that God cannot fill that which is already full.

As I mentioned before, I served at Christ Church Cathedral in Dublin, Ireland for three months as a consultant. There, I found the Celtic Way of spirituality to be alive, not only in the people but also in their land. In a book called Sacred Spaces, Margaret Silf, describes us as islands of disconnection which are created by our desire for self-sufficiency. And yet, as Thomas Merton once said, “No man is an island unto itself.” Rather, Margaret Silf writes that underneath all of our islands is a bedrock that connects us all, where all creation is held in unity, and reminds us that there is something and someone greater than us all. As a Christian, that bedrock for me is Jesus, and all else is shifting sand. As a member of the human race, that bedrock reminds me that I am a beloved child of God, on a pathway to new life.

You know how stones can be used for good things as well as harm, right? A woman caught in adultery was going to be stoned until Jesus intervened. In some parts of our world, women are killed today with this very same method. Jesus also intervened when the demoniac was hurting himself with stones, and on his way into Jerusalem, Jesus accused the people of stoning the prophets. How we use our stones today is important. In the letter of 1st Peter, the author invites us to come to Jesus as “living stones, and let ourselves be built into a spiritual house acceptable to God.”

Stones can speak to us in various ways. As Jesus marched triumphantly into the city on the back of a donkey, the people’s cries of Hosanna could not be stopped. For as Jesus said, even the very stones would cry out with joy and hope. In the letter to the Ephesians, the author reminds us that the Church is built upon the foundation of apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone.

Margaret Silf devotes a chapter of her book to The High Cross, the Touchstones of Eternity. She writes, “in Celtic times the standing stones and high crosses were the village’s library, its pulpit and its art gallery, just as they were the sentinels of the high places, watching over the community, focusing the people’s gaze always to something beyond themselves.”

She reminds us of listening stones, in which we return to God in silence in order to reorient our lives. She mentions the stones of scripture: the silent witness of stones that remind us of our lost ways and future hopes. Stones used as pillows for dreams, struggles with God, and knowledge of God’s presence. Touchstones remind us of sacred moments and sacred spaces; weeping stones allow us to grieve our losses, and singing stones help us to reclaim our joy and our hope. Above all, Margaret Silf connects the stones of the high crosses to the call and vision of every community - to be its library, it’s pulpit, and its art. The stones of the high cross point us to God and the call to serve beyond our stone walls.

In his first letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul reminds the Church about our purpose as a community. He writes, “The one who plants and the one who waters have a common purpose. For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s building. Each builder must choose with care how to build on that foundation which is Jesus Christ. Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?  For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple.”

Perhaps you know the story of The Stone Soup. In it, a traveler passes through a village with no food or shelter. When he asks villagers for something to eat, they decline for various reasons. And so, the traveler goes to a river, takes a large stone, and begins to cook it in a large pot. When villagers pass by and ask him what he is doing, he tells them that he is making stone soup, and how much better it would taste if it had a potato, or some meat, or a vegetable. Soon enough, villagers were bringing one thing or another, and then together they all enjoyed a very different kind of stone soup.

You have a variety of gifts to offer, not only to Church of the Redeemer, but also beyond your stone walls. I’m curious, what does your neighbor think about you, and what is God up to in your neighborhood? At our diocesan convention last year, our mission strategy team recommended 3 action items. Today I mention two:  #1: to launch an indaba type process next year throughout our diocese, connecting us with other parishes and action item #2 is a way of mapping the gifts that our communities have to offer. I encourage you to consider and explore these opportunities, if you have not done so already, before this year’s convention in November, and I have provided some information for you to take with you.

There is a bike trail on Cape Cod that I often use for prayer and exercise. On it, I found a box with stones in it, each painted with a word or a phrase, and a sign inviting us to pick one up or drop one off. I took one that said, “Pray for Peace.” Today, I invite you to reflect in two small groups upon the gifts that Church of the Redeemer has to offer beyond its walls. As living stones, remember, that you are a building dedicated to God, with a variety of gifts and the Holy Spirit, who can point to Jesus, the chief cornerstone of Christ’s Church, and the bedrock of our faith. Remember that Jesus is our Redeemer, who offered himself with sacrificial acts of kindness, whose feet pounded the stone pavements for justice, and whose voice cried out in the wilderness and upon the cross for our sakes. Remember that God is Love and Love has a Body and a Building, and both of these are you.

Weeping and Gnashing

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling                       St. Cyprian's, Roxbury       
Job 23:1-9, 16-17         Psalm 22: 1-15         Hebrews 4: 12-16          Mark 10: 17-31

        My father, God bless and rest his soul, was a man of faith all his life. He often quoted scripture, although I didn’t know it when I was a child; and one of his favorite quotes was about being cast into the outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. He always said “gnashing” with a hard G. (gah-nashing) and his quoting to me was occasionally after I had misbehaved as an adult, when I could see the twinkle in his eye and the smile on his lips. Apparently Jesus said these words during his life as well, warning others that those who disobeyed God, would be thrown into the outer darkness, and in that place there would be weeping and gnashing of teeth. There in that darkness, their cries of sorrow, regret, and fear could be heard.
There has been a lot of weeping and gnashing of teeth lately in our country, and today’s lessons from scripture echo these very same sentiments. Indeed, we often mention Job as someone who embodies great despair, who was tempted and tormented by Satan in a game of proof - that Job would only praise God when life was good. If everything, and I mean everything - family, livestock, shelter, and health - was taken away from Job, then surely he would not remain faithful to God! Or so Satan argued. And his friends piled on. Certainly you must have done something wrong, they said to Job.
         And yet, Job remained adamant about his innocence. He demanded to know what he had done or left undone, what he had said or left unsaid, what laws and commandments he had broken. He remained faithful to God to the very bitter end, even asking God to take away his life and put him out of his misery, rather than deny God’s goodness. Surely, Job was in a dark place, weeping and gnashing his teeth.
Job’s complaint is bitter. We hear Job groan under the weight of God’s heavy hand. He wants a hearing with God in order to get some explanations. He is angry with God for being absent, for being missing in action. Despite Job’s cries to God for help, he hears only crickets from his Creator. Finally, after everything was lost, Job gets the opportunity to appear before God, and with his mouth filled with arguments, Job presents his case before God.
          At first, God didn’t argue with Job, but only listened to his plea and his complaints. “Where were you?” Job demanded. “And why didn’t you help me? If I am not innocent then tell me now, so that I can make amends. And If I am innocent, then defend me and help me against these false accusations by my friends and others. Take away the plagues on my body and in my life. Restore me to health,” Job said to God.
          Job was sure that he had been upright in his behavior, and he thought that he was being reasonable in presenting his case to God. He still trusted God as his judge, and despite all that he had endured, Job is confident that he will be acquitted. Unfortunately, it is when Job hit rock bottom, that God responded; and only then did Job understand more fully about his life as a creature, and his relationship with God and all creation. Sometimes, like Job, I too wonder about the games people play, the reality of evil spirits, and why God doesn’t intervene sooner. But then, I don’t have the perspective or knowledge of God.
           If you can temporarily imagine Job as both masculine and feminine, and each of them presenting their cases before God, I suspect that Justice Kavanaugh and Dr. Ford may have felt and may continue to feel these very same sentiments. Although Justice Kavanaugh claims he is not bitter, and we haven’t heard from Dr. Ford since the hearings, we can assume that both of their lives have been living hells. We also know that there are plenty of people on both sides that are bitter about the process and even the result.
           Like Jesus, who quoted psalm 22 from the cross, perhaps each of them felt forsaken by God, unjustly accused, deserted by friends, betrayed by their leaders, and innocent of all allegations. In their times of need, many people abandoned them, and seemed “far from their cries and words of distress.” In the public squares, people raised their voices in protest, or were silent in their defense. Perhaps they trusted in the Lord, if not their own judicial system and team of lawyers. I wonder if they heard only crickets from God, and began to waver in their faith.
          Like Job, I imagine they both fervently hoped to be rescued from their trials, from people who did not believe them, from harsh words and death threats, from unjust and merciless people. I imagine that there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth in their homes, and that they prayed for relief from their misery. I imagine they hoped and prayed that God would deliver them.
Psalm 22 acknowledges the desperate cries of people, who often turn to God for help, especially when all else fails. Our human pleas are often not answered in the daytime, nor do they offer us any rest at night. We look to our past and people who we trusted and now see only betrayal. We fight back with anger and bitterness. We weep and gnash our teeth, shaking our heads in disbelief, and beating our breasts with grief. And perhaps we hear only crickets from our Creator, while God’s creation responds with gale force winds and flooding waters.
          People are laughing us to scorn, curling their lips and wagging their heads, and saying, they trusted in the political system, or the judicial system, or the health care system, or the religious system, indeed even in the civil system, to deliver them and look what happened to them? In time likes these, like the psalmist and Job, we feel despised, poured out like water, with bones out of joint, hearts melting like wax, and mouths dried out from endless personal prayers that seemingly result in nothing. We hear only crickets from our Creator.
          Jesus said to the man who knelt before him, “You know the commandments. ‘You shall not bear false witness. You shall not defraud. You shall not murder.’” And although this man, unlike me, had kept all these things from his youth, he couldn’t respond to his request - to give up everything and follow Jesus. Truth be told, like Job, most if not all of us, would be like this man, unless of course, like Job, or the people in the wake of hurricane Michael, everything was taken away from us unwillingly.
           In his letter to the Hebrews, the author says that God’s word is “living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow. It is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” Oh, that God would make sure that no creature is hidden from our sight. Oh, that God would speak to us now, living and active, with judicial clarity. Oh, that God, to whom we must all one day render an account, would show us mercy. Oh, that to God and others, our hearts would reveal only love.”
Our human words to each other are often sharper than two-edged swords, cutting people and political parties into pieces, dividing our houses, destroying our relationships, and undermining the trust we have between us all. To enter into the kingdom of God seems far easier to me than to run for public office, or to be believed as a survivor of sexual assault, or to be a faithful follower of Jesus. It’s a hard journey to walk the way of the cross, and to enter through that narrow gate. Oh, that Jesus would come again and show us the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
Clearly, according to scripture, Jesus is able to understand and sympathize with our weakness, not to mention our choices. He knows full well what we have done and left undone, what we have said and left unsaid, what our true intentions are. He too was tested in every respect, as Job was, and as we are; and yet Jesus did not sin. He did not lie. He did not falsely accuse. He did not assault anyone, neither in his words nor in his actions; rather he pointed to God, and assured everyone of God’s forgiveness and our salvation. He remained faithful, like Job, to the bitter end.
  Surprisingly, when Jesus was called “Good Teacher,” even Jesus denied his own goodness. For we believe that everything and everyone that God created is good. We just make poor choices from time to time. And yet, Jesus told this man that “only God is good.” And as we claim today, even in the midst of our own tragedies, God is good all the time. Therefore, if we are to enter into God’s kingdom, and inherit eternal life, it will not be because of our good names, our innocent testimonies, or even our good works. Rather, our eternal inheritance is a supreme court decision, and it remains solely up to God, who is our one and only Judge. With justice and mercy, God is good and God is good all the time.
            In truth, we are a people and a country of great wealth and yet there seems to be a spiritual deficit, bordering on bankruptcy at this time. Our house is divided and falling, and our scales of justice and mercy are tipping. We speak truth, and yet it is without the softening blows of love. Our voices spew hatred when they should be like crickets. It will be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than political opponents to treat each other with dignity and respect.
In the opening collect, we begin our liturgy by praying to God - to “you our hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid. Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit that we may perfectly love you and worthily magnify your holy name.” Today I add my prayers. Please God, make it so. Answer us and be not far from us in this time of trouble. Save us from ourselves for what is impossible for mortals, Jesus tells us that it is possible with God. For what seemed total destruction to Job became resurrection and new life.
Jesus has joined God on the bench, and the author of Hebrews reminds us that Jesus became our great high priest, who was sacrificed for the sins of the whole world, who forgives and saves us, once and for all. In Him, we have a treasure in heaven; and through Him, we can know the everlasting mercy and grace of God. In Him, there is no more weeping and gnashing of teeth, and no more despair; for Jesus embodies faith, hope, and love, and the promise that God will save us.
           Jesus shows us the goodness of God, and that God is good all the time. He is our mediator, chief advocate, and Savior; for the dwelling place of God was among mortals, and in the high courts of heaven, we are acquitted forever. Therefore we can approach God’s throne with boldness and hope. The crickets are no longer silent, they are only singing a new song.

The Body

Vestry Retreat, Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Meditation # 1: The Body

In my meditations today, I’d like to focus on our identities, first individually as Christian leaders, and then secondly as the Body of Christ. A  current question these days is “How do you identify yourself?” Our answers will vary with the day and the context. For instance, today, I’m speaking as a retreat leader for Church of the Redeemer, and I identify myself as a friend of Bethany House of Prayer. Tomorrow, I’ll preach and celebrate as a supply priest at St. Cyprian’s Church in Roxbury; whereas last weekend, I was Megan’s Mom, visiting her in Minnesota. This past Thursday, I was a team member for “Transforming Conflict” in the diocese of Connecticut, and next month I’ll be  “Theologian-in-Residence” at the Cathedral Church of St. Paul in Burlington, Vermont. I identify as a missionary and evangelist rather than as a parochial priest. Many different communities, and yet I always retain my fundamental identity, the bedrock of my faith, as a baptized Christian, and a beloved child of God.

            I’ve never much liked politics and I like it even less today. I used to be a registered Republican because that’s what my parents were, and I married into a family with the same political identity. I always voted my conscience and so my changing views once caused a temporary rift with my father-in-law. We argued one night over religion and politics, about men and women’s leadership, about issues of privilege and race, and our meal together ended abruptly with all of us quickly leaving the restaurant. It took months of letter-writing to repair and reconcile our broken relationship. And yet we still identified ourselves as members of the same family.

When my husband Paul and I moved to Massachusetts, I became a registered Independent because I did not want to be identified with any one particular party. I believe that identity politics has increasingly united us and divided us at the same time. We are creating more and more camps, and drawing lines in the sand, as we become more polarized with escalating emotions. So too have our religious identities fragmented us as well. We gather with like-minded folks, with whom we can identify. Or we no longer want to be identified with any one church or religion, and so we claim no affiliation at all, or we call ourselves “spiritual but not religious.”

In today’s world, identity is important. There are cases of mistaken identity, and stolen identities. We over-identify with some roles and under-identify with others. We have caller ID and protect our identities from others by choosing to remain anonymous in some cases. People’s identities are multi-layered and varied, and there is plenty of reason for having them. We need not nor do we want to be defined or confined by any one identity. Our priorities are different.

Proudly we claim that we are Americans, with multiple identities, a melting pot of diversity. With increasing numbers of interracial and intercultural marriages, we are not black or white, but many shades of gray and various colors. Each individual makes their own right choices for religious, moral, and spiritual strength or for political and civil engagement, for defining ourselves . Gender identity is no longer considered a binary choice, but rather a fluid and emerging identity, formed over a lifetime of experiences and knowledge. We are a rainbow people with a variety of gifts and the same Spirit.

Quite frankly, the “spiritual but not religious identity” drives me bonkers. It makes me wonder about the loss of commitment to our religious communities. I am a card-carrying Christian, baptized into the Body of Christ as an infant, and part of the Jesus movement today. I was confirmed at the age of 33 in the Episcopal Church, and served as a lay leader in many and various ministries throughout my life. I was ordained to the priesthood after two other vocations in retail clothing and banking. Having served in ecumenical and interfaith ministries, on boards and in a local government, I can identify with many people on a variety of issues. With a commitment to my Christian communities, I am both spiritual and religious, and I believe that there is a need for both of these in our life together. As I Christian, I identify with Jesus, whose Body is found in community. As a Christian, I can still serve in many ways and various places.

I identify myself with the Episcopal tradition in paticular because it is a world-wide Body, that follows the middle way, between the Roman Catholic and Protestant traditions. We are a big tent in a three ring circus! We are Christ’s Church in Chestnut Hill and throughout the world, and we discipline our lives through worship, study, and action. When making moral choices, we stand on the three-legged stool of scripture, tradition, and reason, with our experiences heavily influencing all three. As disciples of Christ, we ask, “What would Jesus do?” or “What would Jesus say?” and then we listen for the variety and diversity of our responses. The sacraments of baptism and Eucharist are central to our lives. We feed ourselves with Christ’s body and blood; we wash away our foolishness with water and the Spirit. Christian community is important to our identity.

Personally, I have served Christ in all sizes and shapes of churches in many dioceses. My ministry as a lay person included coordinating coffee hour, serving on a pastoral care team, teaching Sunday school, and chairing the outreach committee for our vestry. I also served beyond the walls of our stone Church, high on the hill of Newtown, Connecticut, where we are now identified with the Sandy Hook School shooting. During our time of living in Sandy Hook, my primary identity was as a parent, but I offered my gifts not only in our Church but at Sandy Hook School, in homeless shelters, prisons, non-profit organizations, and youth services, first identifying myself as a volunteer, and then only later as a lay minister.

I have come to see that the Church is both a business organization and a spiritual Body; and yet we often lose sight of the spiritual world because of the pressing demands on our physical lives. Our “to-do” lists are visible, and we forget to tap into the invisible ways of God who guides us. We lose sight of the spiritual in the physical structures of our religious, or business, or family, or board work. We press on in our daily lives with urgency, responding to the dings of our cell phones and the emails which demand our response. Daily news feeds our minds and our fears but not our faith and our souls.

When vestry leaders and clergy are clear about their identity and purpose as the Church, the Body of Christ, and not just as a business, or a board, or the voice of a particular party, or as a social service agency but rather as a Spiritual Body, as a visible manifestation of the love of God in Jesus Christ, it is a powerful and visible witness to others. You become known as the Body of Christ. You are blown with purposeful direction by the Spirit of God and not by the prevailing winds of our culture. You are proud to be part of the Jesus Movement, which is a particular Way to reveal God’s love to others. God is Love and Love has a Body and You are Christ’s Body.

·         We are all members of Christ’s Body. We have heads, hearts, feet, hands, and many other visible and invisible parts to our Body. What part of the Body are you today? How do you identify with Christ’s Body?

·         As parts of the Body, we are connected by blood, ligaments, skin, and systems that circulate and sustain our lives. How can we keep these parts moving, healthy, strong, and free from blockage?

·         We are all equally important members of Christ’s Body, regardless of our size and function, regardless of what we wear around our necks. When one part of our Body suffers, or when one part rejoices, we all suffer, and we all rejoice. When parts of us are missing we are not whole.

·         We assume different postures at different times: we kneel to confess and pray, we stand to speak and walk, we sit down to be quiet and listen, and then we lie down and rest.

·         We are each unique members and yet we share a common humanity and a divine Spirit that transcends and unites us all, and moves us beyond the walls that we create.

The letter to the Ephesians reminds the Church that we are joined together, and with each part working properly, we will promote spiritual growth in ourselves, in our Church, and beyond. Today, we pay attention to our self-care, balancing our actions and productivity, with listening to God’s Spirit in the silence, and to each other in conversation.

If you can lay down all of your identities for just a moment this morning, like those rocks, I’d like you to focus specifically today on your identity as a beloved child of God, as a baptized Christian, as a disciple of Jesus Christ, and as a leader in Christ’s Body. Your context and community are clear and it is shared: you serve on the vestry at Church of the Redeemer in Chestnut Hill. In the silence, listen to the Spirit’s invitation for you to go deeper, wider, and higher. What Body part are you? What gifts do you have to share? What holds you back or blocks your way? What do you need for spiritual growth?