19 February 2009

The Ordination of Sarah Blaies-Diamond to the Diaconate

The Rev'd Lloyd Prator

New York City

Jeremiah 1:4-9

2 Cor 4:1-6

Luke 22:24-27

Scholars tell us that the first parts of the Gospels to be written down were the stories of the death and resurrection of Jesus the Lord. No surprise there, I suppose, because it is that event which gives Christianity its unique claim and its compelling power. Had Jesus been “a great teacher” as some say, or “a prophet” as others say, he would probably have been an unremembered teacher and a forgotten prophet. It is the moment of his death and resurrection, which gives him his power.

And today's gospel passage, from Luke, takes back to that profound moment. The argument among the disciples, Jesus' upbraiding of his early followers, and the discussion of servanthood takes place at the table of the Last Supper. When it comes to the point of crisis, what Jesus has to say is a word about servanthood.

Today Keith, the Bishop of Eau Claire, will ordain our friend Sarah to the order of servanthood, the apostolic order of the diaconate. In order to become clear about what we are doing, I invite you to dig deeply into two profound moments in the liturgy.

One is that prayer with which the Bishop concluded the Litany for Ordinations, in which we prayed for Sarah. In that prayer, we pray that the God of unchangeable power will “see that things which had been cast down will be raised up, that things which had grown old are being renewed and that all things are being brought to their perfection.” That which is cast down, raised up. That which is old, made new. This same collect concludes the prayers of the Good Friday Liturgy; so again, we are brought to reconsider the moment of the passion of the Lord.

And then, look at today's gospel. In the Luke passage Jesus says that those who would be great would be those who become like the youngest, those who would be leaders will be those who serve.

At the moment of his passion, and at the moment when he calls his disciples to serve him, Jesus tells us to plunge to the depths—to descend to the youngest, to those in need, to those who have been cast down, to those who see youth and power ebbing away in the face of old age and death. At the moment of his passion, Jesus defines servanthood and, thus reveals what he holds most important.

Years ago, I knew, very slightly, a Bishop in the Roman Catholic Church who managed to embrace servant ministry in a compelling way. Even though he was a bishop of a metropolitan diocese, with a grand cathedral, he maintained one unexpected part of his spiritual discipline. One day per week, he took off his gold ring and his heavy pectoral cross, put away the purple shirt and dressed as a priest. And he spent that day in the city jail-- visiting prisoners. A successor to the apostles became a servant of the poorest. Those who the world had cast down were being lifted up. The one who was the leader was the one who served.

When we speak of servant ministry we plumb the very depths of the mystery of Christ. Temporally, we are brought to the moment of his death. We are brought in priority to his highest values. Soteriologically, we are brought to the crossroads of Christian truth and power.

Jeremiah knew this when, in the first reading he remembers that God knew him even in the womb before he was born, and that his prophetic words were placed in his mouth by God. Paul knew this when he proclaimed himself as the servant of those whom he loved.

These are uncertain times for our Church. We have faced the same declining numbers as most of the old line churches have suffered for the last generation. We Anglicans, in addition to those pressures all the old line churches face, are also facing major schism. In one day, two years ago, one of our larger dioceses lost 11 of its largest parishes. Our leadership is considering ways and means to sue parishes to retain their property. Once again, Anglican squabbles make headlines on the religious news pages.

What it is, in these troubled times, that we are called to do? Week in and week out we celebrate the Lord's resurrection in the Eucharist, the Eucharist of which the Last Supper in today's gospel is a foretaste. At that Eucharist, Jesus told us to be servants. And today we tell Sarah that as a deacon, her priority will be to be a servant. Long after she has become a priest, perhaps even after she has become a Bishop, she will always be a servant. Servanthood will run like a vigorous stream through her ministry.

And her ministry, so clearly proclaimed in the gospel and in the liturgy of ordination, is a reminder of what might well be our best course of action in these troubled times. While there will always be squabbles about who is most faithful, who is most Biblically literate, who is most inclusive, in the end, we will be measured by the standard of faithful servanthood.

In the gospel tonight, we face the question of how we shall know Jesus. And the day before he died, he told us we would know him in the breaking of the bread. But at the same time we will know him when we kneel to care for those whom the world has cast aside. We will know him when we touch lives, which are as broken as the bread we, share. We will know him when we hear and respond to the call of all who suffer. It is the determined purpose of God that one day those cast down will be lifted up. They will be the ones who are raised up into eternal light and will surround the throne of judgment in the day of the Lord. On that day, it is our congruence with the servant mission of Christ by which we will be judged. We give thanks today for Sarah and the ministry to which she is called, but we might, as well, give thanks for the agenda which it should set for a troubled church and the truth which it tells us about God who dwells in eternal light now and forever.