The sermon text is below the sermon video.
https://zionepiscopal.com/Sermon%20Videos/seventh-sunday-of-easter-5-29-2022.html
Sermon preached at Zion Episcopal, Washington NC; Sunday May 29th 2022
The Reverend Alan Neale ; “Freedom in Pain”
Psalm 137:4 “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign, strange land?”
This weekend we remember again with thanksgiving all those who have given their lives for a greater cause, the safety and freedom of our country and for many others. And we remember those whose lives have been disabled by war, those whose lives have been broken by bereavement. “We will remember them.”
But this weekend, as churches gather throughout the land, we remember young children (and others) whose lives have been tragically snatched from them; those who have died for no great cause at all. And we remember as best we can those whose lives have been broken forever. “We will remember them.”
“How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign, strange land?” In a land, in a world, where awful atrocities take place daily and evil seems triumphant.
Like St. Paul in the Philippi prison, we find ourselves in a dark and dank place, beaten and buffeted by tragic circumstances; locked in, constricted and confined by an almost palpable sense of inadequacy and helplessness as we watch as spectators at horrific scenes.
Paul (and his companions) somehow find it possible to pray and sing in their confinement. Their time in Philippi has been marked by frustration, annoyance and then beating and flogging; they are thrown into the most dark and dank of cells and their feet are locked in stocks.
Somehow they found grace “to sing the Lord’s song in a foreign, strange land.” I reckon this did not come easily nor immediately. Their severe wounding had probably made them profoundly weary, and it is not until midnight that their spirits begin to rise. Friends, I am sure that this was no superficial, happy-clappy prayer and praise meeting. Somehow, though in confinement, the Holy Spirit led them to a place of interior freedom and space, of prayer and praise.
Somehow this impromptu time of worship became the key that opened their physical prison and unlocked the stocks around their feet.
Somehow this impromptu time of worship became the key that opened the heart of the jailer leading to his conversion and that of all his household.
I want you to note that Paul and companions remained in the prison even though the path was clear. We know, in part, this was to save the jailer from punishment but, maybe also, their remained simply because they could. Psalm 31:21 “The Lord has shown me the wonders of his love in a besieged city.”
And Psalm 18:19 “The Lord brought me into a spacious place because He delights in me.” They remained steadfast in that physical prison though freedom beckoned and escape was possible.
We must not, should not, expect those in places of profound pain, anger, frustration and fear to move easily from their own “prison cells”, and we must not drag them simply because we cannot bear their pain.
Our second reading from Revelation seems to propel us into the experience of Advent/Coming. “The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come’”. “Let everyone who hears say, ‘Come’”. And to these heartfelt, poignant utterances, our Lord promises, “Surely I am coming soon.”
In our prayers and in our praises, we also implore the Lord Jesus to come, and to come without delay.
And as the Feast of the Ascension reminds us, the promise is made by the Ascended Lord. The One whose Ascension celebrates “humanity crying in heaven” and “divinity reigning in earth”.
The Ascension categorically reminds us that we have a wounded Savior in heaven; one who sympathizes with our pains and always lives to make intercession for us. Can you not hear and sense the pulsating and strong desire that Jesus has for the world in today’s Gospel? A plaintive prayer for union between us and Christ as there is between Christ and the Father.
A young girl cried out one night in fear, and her parents came running to her bedside. After a few minutes, they offered the young girl her favorite doll for her to cuddle. But the young girl responded, “No when I hurt and am scared, I want someone with real skin on their face.” The Ascension declares, though this be a mystery, that we have a Friend, an Intercessor in heaven with “real skin on his face”.
And the Ascension categorically reminds us that we have a Divine King who reigns, no wonder then the Ascension is sometimes referred to as the Coronation of Christ.
The Archbishop of York, John Sentamu writes, “Our world is in pain, groaning and longing to be liberated from futility and decay. The love that many waters cannot quench or blow apart; that love that is so strong and so passionate that it refuses to die even when we ourselves may die or pass away” – the Lord reigns and, therefore, Love (authentic love) reigns too; no coup can overthrow its government.
In 1974 Donald Coggan became the 101st Archbishop of Canterbury. Despite, as you can imagine, the most careful proof-reading of the ceremony – the most egregious mistake was made on the very front page of the service leaflet. Instead of reading “The Enthronement of Lord Donald Coggan”, it read “The Enthornment…”
His grace was wise and astute enough to use that error and in his sermon described how vocation was always accompanied by sacrifice (how fitting to remember this on Memorial Day weekend), that enthronement was always accompanied by enthornment.
The enthronement and enthornment of Jesus is a real and present comfort to the soul but also a stark and resolute challenge to any who look for the glory of office without the ready embrace of woundedness.
Our Psalm today urges the people of God to be merry and joyful; this is no Polly-Anna neglect of reality but rather the result of seeing the divine, substantial reality behind all of life – the Lord Reigns, the Wounded Lord Reigns.
Even so, Come Ascended Lord Jesus.
Amen.