Sermon - The Rev. Dr. Paul Kolbet, February 4th, 2024 (Annual Meeting)

I’m not going to give an oral version here of my detailed written annual report, because the scriptures today seem to demand a sermon. If you read the 36 page annual report with sections written by a wide variety of leaders at St. Paul’s, it has an overall theme that 2022 was a year of dramatic change and challenges, prior to that was the pandemic, but 2023 finally was a year of restoration of much that had not been present since before the global pandemic, a year of substantial consolidation where St. Paul’s regained its footing and confidence. If you give the annual report a careful reading, you may believe you have a full account of the ministries that happen here at St. Paul’s. In fact, all that data only captures a small subsection of St. Paul’s ministries, largely the organizational infrastructure of St. Paul’s, which is utterly necessary for the well-being of the whole, but is far, far, less than the whole.

What is the whole, what is St. Paul’s Church? That’s a much more complicated question than it appears to be. Last Sunday’s sermon was about the Church being a kind of third space distinct and independent from the private and the public, a true sanctuary with its own substance and rules where who we are out there does not necessarily carry over to who we are here, where we are fundamentally the same before God and each other. That sermon may have left the impression that the church’s purpose to be a refuge from the world means that there is no direct engagement with the world. This parish has a very strong tradition of ministry those outside of it walls and sometimes some among us worry about whether the church is doing enough. By “church,” I assume they must be referring to the building and what happens in the building. The truth is, no matter how long our annual report is, we have no way account for the ministries of St. Paul’s. There is no way to know that because the true ministers of the church are the non-ordained laity. It is your lives that are the true ministry of this church. In a year where we call the next rector of St. Paul’s, it is vitally important to remind ourselves what our roles are and how, together, they add up to so much more than the sum of their parts. Anyone worrying about whether the church is doing enough should be very sure they know what to look for.

What to look for is for our people more than our programs. It is all of your lives. Although the Church itself very rarely directly engages the world directly, you all do all the time. How many of you have been care givers to your own family members? Although many of you have jobs of all kinds, how many of you by virtue of having that job and being the person you are have had multiple opportunities to ensure that the right thing happened for someone that might not have happened otherwise.

The church does not directly engage politics, but the lay people, true ministers of the church that they are, are encouraged, if they are so called, to serve in every way possible, whether as kings or queens, prime ministers, soldiers, sailors, mayors, lawyers, judges, police officers, and civil servants. Because of its locations, this church is full of medical professionals, and if you have every needed one of those, their ministry of care out in the world is often Christlike even with the occasional miracle. I know I am leaving lots of people out. The ministries of all the ministers of this church are too much to comprehend and they are difficult ministries. Part of how you know you have one of those real ministries in the world is that there are times of real world struggle and genuine setbacks when you might not even be sure you are doing good at all. The real world can be a discouraging place for people, like us, who have hope. That is why lay ministers have their place of refuge they can go and have priests and deacons to care for them when they need it.

St. Paul writes that God arranged the church so that we are all gifted in different ways and he exhorts some of the very first Christians about how important it is not only to embrace one’s own role but also to recognize the limited nature of that role and, as a consequence, to value the contributions of other Christians. He says, “Now you [all] are [together] the body of Christ and individually members of it. And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers; then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret?”

Part of the role of priests is to have that conversation of discernment with other members of the body of Christ about to discover their gifts and bless those gifts. If you have had that conversation with me, I may have told you, “Do what you gives you life not what the parish needs right now.” I say that because if there is some gap in our organizational coverage, it is likely that the real failure has most to do with the failure to commend the faith that is in us and then welcoming whoever has those gifts when they arrive. If we honor each other’s gifts and everyone does what gives them life, we should have all we need as long as we have welcomed all the people called to be here.

Paul says that God spreads gifts throughout the body so that not all are apostles, not all are prophets, not all are teachers, not all work miracles, not all possess gifts of healing, but together we have all that we need. In his own words, “If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be?”

In calling a rector this year, you are not calling someone to be the leader of everything. In Paul’s terms drawn from today’s letter, the rector is not even the head of the body (that is Christ). As I have come to know you all, as I have come to admire the lives you live in the world, I have seen a church with such strong, intelligent, passionate lay leadership that you are fully capable of leading your own engagement with the world. What you do need from a rector is that priestly ministry of care that ensures that this place remains that vital sanctuary for you that you experience as reliably here as a place to heal and re-energize your ministry in the world whatever that is. By being one step removed from the world, a priest is able to be a priest for everyone, a person of refuge often in a place of refuge. And by being a priest to everyone, great things can happen in the world indirectly through all of you. As St. Paul says, all things are arranged so that “The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’ nor again the head [say] to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’” Priests who have clarity about their own role tend to find no end to their delight in walking through life with others, discerning and honoring their gifts, witnessing their ministries, and blessing them.

You might also ask if this is the refuge and place of renewal for the ministers in the world, why is it that we spend our time here doing one thing, worship. And that truly is the most important thing we do here. Another word for worship is wonder. I suggest that if you have some essential ministry in the world and you have begun to feel ground down by it, and you feel like some over-used tense muscle, wonder is not your primarily feeling out there. To return here, to be exhorted here to “lift up your heart,” to be called to worship, is to restore your sense of wonder. Few things are more restorative than wonder, and, in some mysterious way, wonder opens up understanding, and understanding produces love. And that is what you need to do what we all need you to do out there.  

If you find yourself questioning whether St. Paul’s is doing enough that matters, or, if you are simply frustrated about something in the world that could be better than it is. Look around you, get to know who is here with you, admire their lives, and know that it is not all up to you. Together as the body of Christ, we are enough.

All the good work we have done together in 2023 means that St. Paul’s has every reason to be confident. May all of us come to see what our gifts are and grow into our own callings, and may we also see the limits of those callings and revel in the wonder of how God adds gifted others into our lives capable of doing what we are not, and may this place remain a restorative place for all, full of worship and wonder, to the greater glory of God. Amen.