spirit of the heartland

Spirit of theHeartland

A Sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
The Rev. Patricia A. Gillespie

Ecclesiasticus 10:(7-11)12-18
Hebrews 13:1-8
Luke 14:1,7-14
Psalm 112

"Seating Bishop Whitney?"

Where's the best seat in the house? What's the most honorable chair in the church? The pulpit? The choir stalls? Probably, it's the Bishop's chair.

The Bishop's chair even has a special name; big churches are often named for that chair. The chair is called a "cathedra." So the building with the bishop's official chair is called a cathedral. Of course bishops are so important that they usually insist on having their own chair in every church. Where you sit is really important to the church. A bishop isn't "installed" in his or her cathedral, like a rector is in a parish. A bishop is "seated" in a cathedral.

We even talk about people having "a seat" in groups that have authority. Right now I'm inviting our team ministers, as part of their field education, to share the "clergy seat" on the vestry with me. From that seat, they can speak with the authority of clergy.

Where you sit is really important to the church. You've probably heard popes are infallible ... that means they don't make mistakes in what they say. But there's a hitch with that: The only time a that what the pope says is infallible is when he is formally speaking "ex cathedra" – that means when he is speaking from his special chair, the cathedra.

But then Jesus comes along and says, "Hey, don't you sit there!" Jesus sends the popes and bishops to the back pew. And then he tells the host to invite the most powerless people around to the party and to sit in the best seats.

Jesus walks right into this church in Little Falls, looks around, spots the most powerless person, and says to her, "Hey, Whitney, you go sit in the bishop's chair!"

Whitney Alexandra Woidyla-Wood Then when Whitney, our newest, infant Christian cries, we all listen to the complaint. When she smiles at us, we are most pleased with ourselves; it's better than a bishop's blessing. She has no power, no official authority here at all, and yet she wraps us around her little finger.

God knew about that mysterious power that helpless infants have. So when God decided to come and live among us, we didn't get a powerful, honorable big-city king, but a helpless baby, born in a barn to unmarried parents who had no better place to stay.

The incarnation of the Living God is all about taking the place of least honor. God's love is all about standing with the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. That's what we see Jesus doing over and over again. He does it so often that theologians have a name for it, "a preferential option for the poor."

But somehow we Christians forget. In our personal lives we value success and power. In our churches we value high attendance and balanced budgets. Those are the seats of honor that we rush to get into.

But Jesus comes along and says, "Hey, all the best stuff is down here. Why not be like me and hang around with all the losers?" Forget about success and power, about balanced budgets and church attendance," Jesus continues, "because my kingdom is about welcoming strangers and serving the needy. When you take your place with those people, then you will be sitting with me, and you will be blessed."

If Jesus were in charge of our parish's decision about the Johnson Accessibility Project, he'd probably ignore both the vestry and the bishop and ask the visitors and the babies, the homeless and the handicapped, what they'd like to do.

Our vestry wants to know what we all think about this building idea. It matters to the authorities what the official members and regular worshipers want. It matters to Jesus what the poor and powerless want. I hope our vestry will listen to all those voices – the official, regular ones and the walk-ins – and I hope that our church will have a seat for everyone.

Thank God that God sends us reminders, like Whitney, so that we, in welcoming her, are without knowing it welcoming angels.

When we welcome Whitney or any of God's powerless children, and seek and serve Christ in them, then we affirm our own baptism into God's family.

When we put God's powerless children, instead of ourselves, in the place of honor, we too will share in the heavenly banquet, not as strangers or as honored guests, but as children of the Living God.

For that is what all who are baptized become. Welcome to the family, Whitney. Any seat in the house is yours.


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