Gospel Pop-ups

Of all the advances in technology over the last twenty years: microwave ovens, cell phones, cable and satellite television, VCR’s and DVD players, hands-down the prize must go to the personal computer for the device that has so changed how we function. I do not count myself as a computer wiz in the least bit. All that I have learned on the computer I have learned on the job and by doing. I use the computer to write sermons, to send and receive emails, to do my banking, and surf the web. I don’t know how to create a spreadsheet, or how to create or maintain a website and I don’t know how to download music – the free illegal kind of music or the $1-a song I Pod variety. What I do know is how to block out what are called “pop-ups.” Pop-ups are the Internet version of telemarketing calls that come in the middle of dinnertime. Unless you set your computer to filter out or block these pop-up ads for credit cards, mortgage rates and time share packages, they will continue to literally “pop up” onto your screen and block what you want to see.

I contend that the gospels have their version of our modern pop-up ads. The big difference of course is that instead of being bothersome messages to be blocked or deleted, biblical pop-ups are key reminders of the core teachings of Jesus. These are the sayings of Jesus that are peppered throughout the gospels, especially the three that rely on similar sources: Matthew, Mark and Luke. They are sayings that pop-up on a regular basis throughout the lectionary year. Sayings like: “Who do people say that I am?” that Jesus asks his followers. John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the prophets. “But who do you say that I am?” The answer for the ages goes to Peter, the impassioned and impulsive fisherman from Galilee. “You are the Messiah”, in other words, “Jesus, you are the Christ.” God’s chosen. Gospel pop ups include: “If you want to become my followers, deny yourselves and take up your cross and follow me” and “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for the sake of the gospel will save it.”

These familiar and recurring passages are like fine stones that wash up on the beach after being battered around for generations in the waves, their surface being made smooth by the softening sands. They invite us to pick them up, feel them, look at them again and again and move them around in our hands and in our lives, and perhaps, find their way into our pockets to remind us of something important that we should not forget.

The questions that arise from this conversation between Jesus and his disciples are not easy ones. How do we save something by losing it? How is it possible to gain the whole world, and in the process lose our lives? Why do we even have to choose anyway? I know that when I lose something, it’s lost. I have lost watches, files, keys, notes I have written to myself not forget passwords and usernames. I don’t consider them saved somewhere for me to come across sometime in the future, I consider them lost because I cannot find them when I need to.

One gets the sense that Jesus does not want people to follow him without thinking things through. He lays out the various options, warns about the consequences and the dangers, and then still invites. “If any want to become my followers.” He does not order, implore or beg -- he invites. It was as if he was saying: “come if you want, and I hope you do, but you will have to leave something behind because the way forward will not be easy. You will have to throw something overboard, leave it behind, deny or forget whatever pulls you down: a past hurt, an unresolved conflict, a painfully embarrassing mistake, or an unspeakable sin, or just plain fear of not knowing.

The conversation between Jesus and Peter and the others takes place at a turning point in the gospel. If the crowds following Jesus had grown accustomed to the upbeat way that events were playing out – the feeding of the large crowds, the miracles, and the many people who came to Jesus and were healed -- Jesus changed both the mood and the direction of his journey. He spoke openly of the suffering he would endure, his rejection, his death and his rising to new life. Jesus spoke in clear terms of what the future would hold, and he waited to see who would still follow him. Turning points come with a calculation and a measuring of potential losses and gains.

Each year around this time, I take to the pulpit at the request of the Stewardship Committee to kick-off and try to set the right tone to the annual pledge campaign. Each year I do this I ready myself for this task and duty by acknowledging that the way the church speaks about stewardship -- linking it so closely with pledges to support an annual budget -- is deeply flawed and limited at best. A steward, we are reminded, is a trustee and manager of another’s property and resources. Stewardship is about much more than managing our money, it is about how we care for all of creation. How do we care for those in our world who are most vulnerable and at risk? The very real possibility of global warming due to manmade causes is an issue of stewardship. Stewardship is also local and personal. How are we caring for what God has given us?

Just as the disciples came to a turning point when they had to decide whether to go forward or go back home, we too are at a turning point as a community of faith. To go forward, we are going to have to throw some things overboard.

I hope you have noticed as you have come into the cathedral this morning the blue scaffolding that is being erected along Church Street. For those who have worshipped here for some years, this is not the first scaffolding you have seen. The last fifteen years has seen a great deal of work to restore this great Cathedral. The year this church was built, John Quincy Adams was President. As buildings and churches and companies have come and gone on Main Street in Hartford, we remain in this same location. This sacred space has long been a spiritual home for people to take stock of the invitation Jesus makes to follow him.

We as a congregation are at a turning point in how we think about and address the challenges we face and the call to mission that is ours. We are in the midst of a maturation process – we are growing up -- when it comes to understanding the connection between our faith and the way we use our resources and gifts to do God’s will.

As so many of you know, Christ Church Cathedral is both blessed and some might even say hindered by the large endowment given through the bequests of our past members. Without the endowment, I question whether we would be here today, because many of our members moved out to the suburbs in the 1940’s and 50’s and never came back. The turning point for us is very real: the endowment will not forever carry us. It will not and can not pay for all of the work to restore this place. It can not fund the entire music program, or purchase the flowers on the altar or subsidize parish trips. Those things are for the living, not the dead, to fund and enjoy. We are at the beginning of the first capital campaign in 18 years to help pay for this restoration. We will invite the church of today to make an investment for children and grandchildren to realize and enjoy.

But as we save this sacred space from deferred maintenance, there is something we have to begin losing and shedding. For most of our history it was not always easy to understand how we funded our ministries. Some of our funds were established in the 1800’s. Our own parish members only held a few seats on our governing board, the Chapter. It could be said that things happened “to us,” not “with us.” Deans were appointed by the bishop without consultation. Things have changed. Today is different. Today every dollar going in and out of this ministry can be tracked and reviewed. We have special forums each October to communicate the highlights of the budget. We’ve started publishing quarterly budget updates in the newsletter. We even report how much it costs to heat this place in the middle of the winter. And, we will soon be hosting small groups to get your input about the upcoming capital campaign. We’re not doing these things to focus on money; we are doing these things so that sunlight is shed on how things really work. “All of this” -- i.e. this sacred place -- comes with a cost, and paying that cost is for us to wrestle with and not defer for future generations. It should be our joy and our opportunity, not our burden.

Yet, the more we plan, the more we dream, the more we tackle hard issues and tough conversations; we need to continue to invite people on this journey, because not all of us are on board yet.

Jesus wanted to make sure his followers knew that the future would not always look like the past. There would be trials, conflicts, sacrifice and loss. But it is all necessary for what is gained on the journey. In losing what we think we lose, we receive so much more: to walk with God, to know Jesus, to lend a helping hand to someone in need, to be a friend, to give back.