Saturday, December 09, 2006

Mrs. Turpin's Revelation

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Akansas
December 10, 2006; Second Sunday of Advent, Year C
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(Baruch 5:1-9) -- Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. Put on the robe of the righteousness that comes from God; put on your head the diadem of the glory of the Everlasting; for God will show your splendor everywhere under heaven. For God will give you evermore the name, "Righteous Peace, Godly Glory."

Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height; look toward the east, and see your children gathered from west and east at the word of the Holy One, rejoicing that God has remembered them. For they went out from you on foot, led away by their enemies; but God will bring them back to you, carried in glory, as on a royal throne. For God has ordered that every high mountain and the everlasting hills be made low and the valleys filled up, to make level ground, so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God. The woods and every fragrant tree have shaded Israel at God's command. For God will lead Israel with joy, in the light of his glory, with the mercy and righteousness that come from him.

(Luke 3:1-6) In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'"
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A reading from Baruch:
Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. Put on the robe of the righteousness that comes from God; put on your head the diadem of the glory of the Everlasting; for God will show your splendor everywhere under heaven. For God will give you evermore the name, "Righteous Peace, Godly Glory."

A reading from Flannery O'Connor:
"If it's one thing I am," Mrs. Turpin said with feeling, "it's grateful. When I think who all I could have been besides myself and what all I got, a little of everything, and a good disposition besides, I just feel like shouting, 'Thank you, Jesus, for making everything the way it is!' It could have been different!" ...At the thought of this, she was flooded with gratitude and a terrible pang of joy ran through her. "Oh thank you, Jesus, Jesus, thank you!" (Revelation, from The Complete Stories, p. 488f)

Mrs. Turpin felt especially grateful because she wasn't like other people. "Sometimes Mrs. Turpin occupied herself at night naming the classes of people. On the bottom of the heap were most colored people, not the kind she would have been if she had been one, but most of them; then next to them -- not above, just away from -- were the white-trash; then above them were the home-owners, and above them the home-and-land owners, to which she and Claud belonged. Above she and Claud were people with a lot of money and much bigger houses and much more land. But here the complexity of it would begin to bear in on her, for some of the people with a lot of money were common and ought to be below she and Claud and some of the people who had good blood have lost their money and had to rent and then there were colored people who own their homes and land as well."

In the doctor's waiting room where she had brought Claud because of the ulcer on his leg, it was easy for her to place all the people. There was the "thin leathery old woman in a cotton print dress. She and Claud had three sacks of chicken feed in their pump house that was in the same print. ...(T)he child belonged with the old woman. She could tell by the way they sat -- kind of vacant and white-trashy, as if they would sit there until Doomsday if nobody called and told them to get up."

Mrs. Turpin engaged herself in conversation exclusively with a "well-dressed gray-haired lady" who was obviously a fine woman like herself. They discussed how difficult it is to get good niggers to pick cotton. When the white-trash woman pronounced that they should all be sent back to Africa, Mrs. Turpin allowed as to how that probably wouldn't work. Then she changed the topic to instruct upon the virtue of keeping pigs very clean, spraying them daily, as she does, on the concrete floor of their pen.

Throughout the conversations Mrs. Turpin was troubled by the ugly girl who made ugly faces at her. The girl didn't seem to fit into any of the categories. She was the daughter of the well-dressed gray-haired lady, and she kept staring rudely at Mrs. Turpin apparently because the conversation was interrupting her reading of a textbook titled Human Development. Embarrassed by her daughter's unsocial behavior, the mother explained that she was a student. "'Mary Grace goes to Wellesley College,' she explained... 'In Massachusetts,' she added with a grimace. 'And in the summer she just keep right on studying... I think she ought to get out and have fun.' The girl looked as if she would like to hurl them all through the plate glass window."

A reading from Luke:
The word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiving of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord'"

"'I think the worst thing in the world,' said the girl's mother, 'is an ungrateful person. To have everything and not appreciate it. I know a girl,' she said, 'who has parents who would give her anything, a little brother who loves her dearly, who is getting a good education, who wears the best clothes, but who can never say a kind word to anyone, who never smiles, who just criticizes and complains all day long.'"

That's the beginning of the conversation that led Mrs. Turpin to the exclamation that we opened with. "If it's one thing I am, ...it's grateful. When I think who all I could have been besides myself and what all I got, a little of everything, and a good disposition besides, I just feel like shouting, ...'Oh thank you, Jesus, Jesus, thank you!' she cried aloud.

"The book struck her directly over her left eye. It struck almost at the same instant that she realized the girl was about to hurl it. Before she could utter a sound, the raw face came crashing across the table toward her, howling. The girl's fingers sank like clamps into the soft flesh of her neck. She heard the mother cry out and Claud shout, 'Whoa!' There was an instant when she was certain that she was about to be in an earthquake."

The doctor and nurse intervened, controlling the girl and administering a long needle and syringe to her. But before she yielded to sleep, the girl looked fiercely into Mrs. Turpin's eyes. "There was no doubt in (Mrs. Turpin's) mind that the girl did know her, knew her in some intense and personal way, beyond time and place and condition. 'What you got to say to me?' she asked hoarsely and held her breath, waiting, as for a revelation.

"The girl raised her head. Her gaze locked with Mrs. Turpin's. 'Go back to hell where you came from, you old wart hog,' she whispered. ...Her eyes burned for a moment as if she saw with pleasure that her message had struck its target."

After Mrs. Turpin had been treated, and Claud had seen the doctor, and they had returned home, she couldn't get it out of her mind. It was like a message from God. Finally alone, spraying off the hogs, she gathered herself. "'What do you send me a message like that for?' she said in a low fierce voice, barely above a whisper but with the force of a shout in its concentrated fury. 'How am I a hog and me both? How am I saved and from hell too?'"

A comment from Lowell:
I think that is one of the best theological questions in all of literature. "How am I a hog and me both? How am I saved and from hell too?"

Mrs. Turpin continues:
"'How am I a hog?' she demanded. 'Exactly how am I like them?' and she jabbed the stream of water at the (hogs). ...'if you like trash better, go get yourself some trash then,' she railed. 'You could have made me trash, or a nigger. If trash is what you wanted why didn't you make me trash?'

"...She braced herself for a final assault and this time her voice rolled out over the pasture. 'Go on,' she yelled, call me a hog! ...From hell. Call me a wart hog from hell..."

"A garbled echo returned to her.

"A final surge of fury shook her and she roared, 'Who do you think you are?'

"...She bent her head slowly and gazed, as if through the very heart of mystery, down into the pig parlor at the hogs. ...At last she lifted her head. There was only a purple streak in the sky, cutting through a field of crimson and leading, like an extension of the highway, into the descending dusk... She saw the streak as a vast swinging bridge extending upward from the earth through a field of living fire. Upon it a vast hoard of souls were rumbling toward heaven. There were whole companies of white-trash, clean for the first time in their lives, and bands of black niggers in white robes, and battalions of freaks and lunatics shouting and clapping and leaping like frogs. And bringing up the end of the procession was a tribe of people whom she recognized at once as those who, like herself and Claud, had always had a little of everything and the God-given wit to use it right... They were marching behind the others with great dignity, accountable as they had always been for good order and common sense and respectable behavior. They alone were on key. Yet she could see by their shocked and altered faces that even their virtues were being burned away."

A reading from Baruch:
Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height; look toward the east, and see your children gathered from west and east at the word of the Holy One, rejoicing that God has remembered them. ...For God has ordered that every high mountain and the everlasting hills be made low and the valleys filled up, to make level ground, so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God... For God will lead Israel with joy, in the light of his glory, with the mercy and righteousness that come from him."

________

The Mission of St. Paul's Episcopal Church is to explore and celebrate
God's infinite grace, acceptance and love.

For information about St. Paul's Episcopal Church and it's life and mission, please contact us at
P.O. Box 1190, Fayetteville, AR 72702, or call 479/442-7373

This sermon and others are on our web site at www.stpaulsfay.org
Please visit our partner web ministry also at www.ExploreFaith.org

Saturday, December 02, 2006

The Gold Thread

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Akansas
December 3, 2006; First Sunday of Advent, Year C
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(Luke 21:25-36) -- Jesus, said ‘There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see “the Son of Man coming in a cloud” with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.’

Then he told them a parable: ‘Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

‘Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.’
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There is a woman who intrigues me. She's U.S. representative for a network of African artisans. She helps support villages in the Third World by marketing their crafts in the United States. She is so excited about the possibility and likelihood of Jesus' imminent return that she becomes almost breathless when talking about it. She telephones to ask if we would like to carry some of her products in our bookstore, but her focus quickly turns to the nearness of the return of Christ. "It could be today, Father!" she says to me. "Any day! Soon, Father!" Her reaction to the news of the day -- to natural disasters like earthquakes and hurricanes -- her reaction is different from mine. She is saddened by the tragedy and suffering, but she is comforted and excited, because these are the signs of the end. She doesn't worry so deeply as I do about wars and rumors of wars. For her these are the encouraging precursors of the second coming. Her conversation is peppered with exclamations of hope. She is ready to meet our Savior. The sooner the better.

I find myself a little unnerved when I speak with her. I experience a degree of awe and respect at the depth of her hope and her faith. It seems that she believes so much more than I do. There is something about her hope that I find compelling, and there is something about her hope that I find repelling.

Throughout scripture there are passages that look at the present circumstances -- the news of the day -- and render judgment. Sometimes that judgment is positive and encouraging such as the words we hear today from Jeremiah: "the days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah." Sometimes that judgment is negative, a warning: "Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place." How do we interpret the signs of the times? One thing is constant in scripture, whether the interpretation is pessimistic or optimistic the message is the same. "Do not be afraid!"

Most of us look at the future with a mixture of hope and dread. Our placement on that continuum is often dependent upon our circumstances. When my sister faced her husband's call to active duty in the first Iraq war, she had to face the dread of her own fears for the future. Her spiritual director invited her to imagine the worst possible scenario. What is the worst thing that could happen? When she thought about that, it wasn't her husband's death that she feared most. Worse than that would be that he might be so severely injured that he returned mentally and physically broken. Her spiritual director then invited her actively to imagine that possibility. What would she do? How would she cope? When she imagined the worst, she experienced something she didn't expect. She experienced a deep sense of peace. Somehow she knew she would be able to cope with that worst possible scenario. Somehow, she sensed, God would be with her and with her husband. They would be okay. With that realization, most of her anxiety evaporated, and she was able to face the future, and the present of living her life with her husband in Iraq. Deep in her being, there was something there for her to hold on to.

William Blake writes in his poem "Jerusalem":
I give you the end of a gold string.
Only wind it into a ball,
It will lead you in at Heaven's gate
built in Jerusalem's wall.

Each of us has been handed the end of gold string. That string stretches back through the death and resurrection of Christ beyond the Exodus into the light of first creation. The gold string is passed hand to hand person to person from one generation to another. We are told to hold on and to walk in the Way, winding our portion of that gold string until it leads us in at Heaven's gate.

Advent is a season when we adjust our grip on the gold string, looking backward in time to the stories and practices that have been handed on to us, and looking forward in the expectation of the fulfillment of the hopes of all the ages. In Advent the church is pregnant with the expectation of new life. We light our Advent candles, in anticipation of something new coming into the coldest, darkest time of our year. Children open doors in Advent calendars that trace the journey of an anxious couple toward childbirth. Rose Marie Berger says that Advent is a pilgrimage. "A time of sacred travel. It is a way that we answer what Goethe called 'the holy longing.' Conjuring Advent we will leave the place of our birth to journey to the birthplace of another. It is an invitation to be born again." We grab the gold string, and walk daily in the Way we have been given, as William Osler puts it -- "receiving our daily bread, doing good, offering hospitality, choosing compassion and forgiveness, serving the least of these, singing, praying, and when night comes, giving our bodies and souls over to sleep." (From Rose Marie Berger, "The Habit of Advent," Sojourners Magazine, December 2006) We wind the gold string until it leads us in at Heaven's gate.

Rose Marie Berger tells of meeting an eight-year-old boy out riding his bike. The bike was a clunker and the boy was wearing hand-me-downs. She asked him, "How's it going?" "Great!" he replied. "I'm in my ninth week of having fun!" She laughed and laughed some more, then took out her date book to mark down her own nine weeks of fun. (Ibid)

Mark down these next four weeks of fun. Of course having fun is not the same as having hope, but they are related. Today we begin four weeks of dipping into the deep ocean of hope that reaches out to us from the old stories of our past and beckons to us from a future filled with an ending expectation that we call Christ. Advent is our interim. The old year and years are over and past. Our culmination in Christ is not yet here. We live, as Greg Rickel said in yesterday's sermon, a liminal existence, between past and future, holding a gold string in the space between original creation and Heaven's gate.

It's not so bad being in an interim situation. I was an interim priest once, in Natchez, Mississippi. I had been out of seminary maybe nine months, a comfortable gestation period. The Rector left, and I was named Interim Rector. It was a no-lose situation. If I made a mistake, they forgave me. After all, I was so wet behind the ears. And if I did something that people didn't like, they put up with it. After all, I was temporary, and they wouldn't have to endure it for long. They gave me a lot of space, a lot of rope, a gold string, if you will. It is wonderful how free you can feel when you know you will be forgiven and accepted. That's the grace of being an interim.

We are all interims. We are so new to this business of living an eternal life; we are all wet behind the ears. And we are all so temporary. None of us will be here all that long. Can't we give one another a lot of space, a lot of rope on this gold string that we pass from hand to hand and wind into a ball to lead us all in at Heaven's gate built in Jerusalem's wall.

How do we interpret the signs of the times? Whether optimists or pessimists we are invited, "Do not be afraid!" You are forgiven, accepted and free. Even the worst that we can imagine may find its peace. And as we wind the gold string into a ball, day by day, lighting our candles, opening the doors in our Advent calendars, receiving our daily bread, doing good, offering hospitality, choosing compassion and forgiveness, serving the least of these, singing, praying, and when night comes giving our bodies and souls over to sleep, it may be that we will look up from this life in the interim and hear someone ask us, "How's it going?" and we also might reply with surprised joy, "Great! I'm in my ninth week of having fun!"

A blessed and holy Advent to all.
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The Mission of St. Paul's Episcopal Church is to explore and celebrate
God's infinite grace, acceptance and love.

For information about St. Paul's Episcopal Church and it's life and mission, please contact us at
P.O. Box 1190, Fayetteville, AR 72702, or call 479/442-7373

This sermon and others are on our web site at www.stpaulsfay.org
Please visit our partner web ministry also at www.ExploreFaith.org