Sermon

October 30, 2005

A Sermon Preached at St. Stephen’s on Oct. 30, 2005, by the Rev. Cork Tarplee

I knelt down with the child who could not been more than about thirteen years old and asked what healing she would like to pray for. We were at this weekend’s Diocesan Retreat for Middle School Children and this was their regularly scheduled healing service. “My mom has cancer and we think she will die soon. My Dad is an alcoholic and he’s drinking again,” she replied. “I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.” We talked a little about how hard it is when you are thirteen and feel that everything depends on you, but everything is out of control. We talked about the sources of strength and comfort in her life, then I laid my hands on her head and said the Church’s ancient prayer for healing, adding my own prayer that God might give this child strength and courage and an openness to receiving help from her friends and especially her church. Then I released her into the comforting arms of her friends at the retreat and prepared to listen to the story of the next child who had come seeking healing from God’s ministers.

I admit that I went to this retreat with some skepticism. It was held at Camp Crossroads , a facility owned jointly by our Diocese and the local Lutheran Synod. The only thing I knew about Crossroads was that it is a relatively primitive camp struggling with financial woes. I know that Crossroads lost almost as much in its first two years of operation as it costs to keep St. Stephen’s going. I admit to going to this weekend’s retreat wondering if it was worth it to try to keep this facility going.

The skepticism is a holy thing. Jesus warns his followers in this morning’s Gospel about the external trappings of religious observance: warns against religious leaders who like to wear gorgeous costumes and have places of honor. What in the world would Jesus have to say about today’s churches with their big, elaborate buildings, gorgeous stained glass and expensive musical instruments. It is healthy to be skeptical about whether this is all worthwhile. Particularly as the church prepares its budget it is good to wonder why we should meet the rising costs of fuel and keep the heat and lights on or pay the pastor and musicians. This fall at St. Stephen’s we’ve heard a special appeal for a fund to fix the roof, windows and rectory. It is healthy to wonder whether we need these things.

But then, in the midst of a program populated by ordinary teenagers, the answer comes. Behind the happy, playful exterior of each child on this weekend’s retreat was a story: some of them ordinary like the pain of losing a pet or the argument with a sibling, others of them more difficult like divorce, abuse and expulsion from school. Behind each child lies the need for comfort and healing and grace. It makes a difference to each child that the church and the camp are there to offer them that healing. The same is true when I look at this congregation. On the surface we are all fairly well-off suburbanites, but each of us, I know, bears a pain particular to ourselves. It makes a difference that the church is here for us. It makes a difference to each individual and it makes a difference, I think, to our culture as a whole. Churches and schools are cheaper to run than prisons. Our political and financial and social institutions need people to operate them who really care about other people. It makes a huge difference that the church is here with the roof intact, the lights on and the personnel paid.

I have been speaking for the last three weeks about the hard choices we have to make in life. Today, I urge you once again to choose to give your time and your money to keep this institution going. The sheets you were given as you came in this morning are an opportunity to pledge your time and effort to the work of this church. I urge you to take the time to fill them out and to give of yourself to see to it that our work continues. The pledge cards you will receive in the mail are an opportunity to pledge your financial resources to the work of this church—and by extension to the work of Crossroads Camp since our pledge to the Diocese keeps that ministry going. I urge you to make a substantial pledge. It makes a big difference. The roof and the personnel are not so important in and of themselves. The work that we do together is vital.

There is an old story that reminds us why we need to pay attention to the needs of the church. The story goes that an old Cherokee chief gathered his grandchildren and told them that within each of them and within each person there is a battle going on between two wolves that are in each of us. One wolf is the wolf called Evil. This is the wolf of anger, envy, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, lies, false pride, superiority and ego. The other wolf battling inside us is called Good. This wolf is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith. The old chief’s grandchildren thought a while about this battle raging inside and then one child asked, “But Grandfather, which wolf wins?” The old chief’s reply is worth remembering: “The winner is the one you feed.” AMEN