More Wine

January 17, 2016

The Second Sunday after Epiphany

 

“Consequences” … I don’t know if you all will have heard, but apparently some bishops met in England last week, and they’ve been talking about us!

For God in recent days has poured out upon us is in the Episcopal Church grace upon grace. And just as was the case for the wine steward in today’s gospel, there are some people have witnessed God’s action perceived it not.

Between last Sunday and this Sunday there has been a little dust up in the Anglican Communion. While most of us were working, or otherwise minding our business, thirty-eight senior clerics of the Communion were meeting and discussing thing. Over the weekend they published a statement in response to the actions of our General Convention last summer and since the Primates issued their statement, many in our church have been playing catch up, suddenly trying to sort out questions like: “What exactly is the Anglican Communion?” “What is a Primate?”  And, “When did this beautiful and very grown up church in which I worship God -- transform into a child subject of being put on time out?”

I will touch on those questions in a moment, but first I want to turn our attention back to Gospel of John and the story of the Wedding Feast in Cana of Galilee. It is the story of a regular feast in a backwater town, among ordinary people whose wine had run out – and in it something extraordinary happens: Jesus manifests the abundance of God!

Scholar, David Lose says that this is story about the abundance of God’s grace:

“As in unbelievable, more-than-you-can-possibly-imagine, abundance. Keep in mind, for a moment, the scene: Jesus and his disciples are at a wedding and the hosts run out of wine. Inconvenient, we will probably acknowledge, perhaps embarrassing, but is it really such a big deal? Yes. Because in this time and place, running out of wine too early isn’t just a social faux pas, it’s a disaster. Wine isn’t merely a social lubricant, you see, it’s a sign of the harvest, of God’s abundance, of joy and gladness and hospitality. And so when they run short on wine they run short on blessing. And that’s a tragedy.            

“Which is when Jesus, prompted by his mother, steps in and provides not just more wine, but more wine than the whole crowd could have drunk not only during the three days of the wedding feast, but probably across three     weeks. In changing the water of those six large basins of water for purification, you see, Jesus is providing close to an additional thousand bottles of additional wine. And not only that, but as the surprised steward discovered, it’s not just a cheap bottle of Chianti, but the best wine yet served.                                                      

“And that, according to John, is what grace is like: an overflowing of joy, blessing, and the presence of God. “As we’ve regularly seen that in our study of the Gospels, first things matter. Mark describes the exorcising of a demon as the first thing Jesus does.    And Luke – as we’ll see over the next two weeks – reports the first thing Jesus did is preach a sermon of release and freedom and healing. And each of these things matters, as they set the tone and even theological agenda for those particular gospels. Which is why it’s significant that in the Fourth Gospel John describes the first thing that Jesus does as providing more wine, joy, and blessings than this couple – or any couple – could possibly have imagined or deserved.   

“Because that’s what grace looks like.”[1]

And for most of us in the Episcopal Church, this abundant, joyful blessing of God -- this explosion of God’s grace is what we experienced as a church in late June of this past summer when in a convention hall in Salt Lake City, Utah, the gathered church took a final step in a forty-year conversation. By the conclusion of its 78^th General Convention, the Episcopal Church’s marriage canons would reflect the full inclusion of all of our members in the sacramental life of the church. When by some great synchronicity that week, the news broke of the Supreme Court decision upholding the right for same sex couples to be married in all states of our union, a conga line worthy of any raucous wedding feast broke out among our General Convention deputies. To echo David Lose – this is what grace looks like. [And although the dancing was an utterly joyful expression, the deputies definitely ought not give up their day jobs!]

The changes in our church in the span of my own lifetime have been breathtaking.

I grew up in the Episcopal Church at a time when women were not ordained. Period. And one of the first church scandals I recall was the day the bishop came to visit us in my childhood church, and agirlwas allowed to carry the processional cross. I still recall the sense of wonder that we all had when we saw the very brave Lisa Eldridge make it all the way to the front of the nave without bursting into flames! And the walls of the church stood. I remember a time when babies were baptized in a side aisle during the week so as not to inconvenience us on Sunday mornings, and likewise, communion was something you received once a month and then only if you had been confirmed.  

Our church has gone through amazing changes in a relatively short period of time. And it has been difficult for some of us Episcopalians to adjust to all of these changes – and we havelived through them. It is hardly a wonder, then, that those Anglicans from abroad, who have no knowledge of our context, look at us with amazement. They see God’s grace sweeping through our church. And they are like that steward in today’s Gospel, who is serving the rich wine, who can see that something extraordinary is going on, but does not yet understand that is it God’s grace and God’s power at work.

I promised a quick romp through the events of the week and what they mean for us here at St James. During this past week, the primates of the Anglican Communion gathered to discuss, among other things, the changes that the Episcopal Church made to its canons governing marriage.

First, who are the Primates? The Dean of Berkley Divinity School at Yale has given this helpful, concise description:

“The Primates are bishops of the various provinces - national or regional Churches - who have leadership roles in their own settings, some with more authority than others. They do not individually make decisions even for their provinces, but of course speak with significant moral authority for their members, and often act as spokespersons for their national bodies.

“Together, the Primates meeting formally are seen as one of the ‘instruments’ of unity or communion for Anglicans - along with the person of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lambeth Conferences, and the Anglican Consultative Council. They cannot however collectively make decisions except for themselves, although they may exercise a significant moral authority for us all.” [2]

And so knowing who the Primates are, the next question is: What did the Primates have to say about us on Friday?

At the conclusion of their meeting a majority of the 38 men who gathered determined that the Episcopal Church’s expansion of its marriage canon to include marriage for all was enough of a departure from their understanding of doctrine that they are not comfortable with Episcopalians having a lead role in external relations. And as a “consequence” (not an expulsion, not a sanction) we are being asked to take a three year break from some committee work and ambassadorial functions. In other words, we’re “on time-out” from doing a bunch of committee work, which to be honest doesn’t sound like such a bad deal, right?

Finally, “What does this mean for our daily lives in the Diocese of Chicago?”  Our own Bishop Lee sent out this helpful communication in response:                      

“First, I want to assure you that the Anglican Communion is a way of describing the web of living relations between our churches. It is not a governing body with authority in the internal workings of its member churches, and this announcement will not change in any way the Diocese of Chicago’s commitment to the full inclusion of all of God’s people in our life and ministry. As your bishop and as a Christian, I believe that the faithful, loving, and lifelong union of two persons--of the same sex or of opposite sexes--is capable of signifying the never failing love of God in Christ for the church and the world, and nothing that happens in a meeting or anywhere else will ever change that.”[3] 

The crisis that has arisen in the Anglican Communion (and it’s not just this week, it’s been going on for years now) is precipitated in part by the fact that the primates from some parts of the communion have little to no knowledge of the decades of careful theological and ecclesiological work undertaken in our part of the communion, in our Episcopal Church. If you want more background on the history of this conversation, I encourage you to read the Episcopal Church’s response to the Windsor Report: To Set our Hope on Christ. [4]   Published in 2005 in response to the ordination of Gene Robinson, it offers a positive theological argument supporting our church’s full inclusion of LGBT people in our sacramental life.  But I especially encourage you to read the Appendix, which details over four decades of conversation around these issues. We didn’t as a church just wake up one morning in Salt Lake City and decide to change our Canons. It was the fruition of a decades-long conversation and work together.

So, there’s not an appreciation of what we as a church have been doing. Neither does there seem to be much appreciation or understanding of our cultural milieu in the United States.

But as our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry put it so eloquently in his statement at the conclusion of the Primates’ meeting, the dramatic movement in our church over this past half century is not a matter of cultural relativism but one of living more fully into our baptism in Christ:

“Many of us have committed ourselves and our church to being ‘a house of prayer for all people,’ as the Bible says, when all are truly welcome…

“Our commitment to be an inclusive church is not based on a social theory or capitulation to the ways of the culture, but on our belief that the outstretched arms of Jesus on the cross are a sign of the very love of God reaching out to us all. While I understand that many disagree with us, our decision regarding marriage is based on the belief that the words of the Apostle Paul to the Galatians are true for the church today: All who have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male or female, for all are one in Christ.”[5]

Back to that wedding feast in Cana.  Like many weddings, the central figures of the day are pretty much beloved by all. How the wedding guests feel about one another…is often another matter!  Ask just about any priest, and you will hear that most prefer doing funerals to weddings. At funerals, people tend to come with their minds fixed on ultimate things -- their loved one, eternal life, God. At weddings, by contrast, there tend to be quite a few agendas flying around, and you can wind up seated next to some pretty challenging characters. The sheer diversity of people who are attached to any couple often strains the bonds of civility and mutual understanding (Perhaps this is one of the reasons that wine is such a critical component at these events!) But when on best behavior we focus on our love for the couple at the center of the feast – and we trust thatthatwill carry us through even the most tiresome table mate.

Perhaps in the Anglican Communion we can imagine ourselves at a wedding feast -- all of us friends of the Bridegroom. The Primates, maybe they are the Mother of the Bride, worried about a suitable seating arrangement.  Perhaps it is no surprise that we -- a church founded out of revolution and open to evolution -- are seen as the rowdy guests that have been asked to sit at the corner table by the kitchen -- where we can cause the least amount of disruption to the party.

That’s ok! We’re not being kicked out -- and God knows the feast would be the poorer without us. We’ll still be us. We’ll still love those at the feast with us, and we’ll still love the grumpy uncles seated a little closer to the head table.

One might wonder, though, given the events of this past week, do we imagine, perhaps, that the wine has run out? If God’s blessing has somehow evaporated from this feast?  Well if so, then perhaps we need to take a cue from Mary -- and elbow Jesus and ask for some more wine: ask for some more blessing, more abundance, more grace.  And then we need to expect that Godwillprovide it…. and not in some meager parsimonious little way. When God acts, God is outrageouslyabundant. God will not respond to our call from more wine, by in three years restoring the Episcopal Church to its place at the committee table! That’s not what grace looks like!

Remember that in my lifetime, this church has gone from little girls unable to carry a torch down the aisle -- to the first woman Presiding Bishop retiring earlier his year.

In my lifetime, I have gone from being raised in the Jim Crow South of Little Rock, Arkansas -- to seeing the first African American President of the United States and then the first African American Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church.

In my lifetime, we have come from a world where we imagined we didn’t know any gay people. We thought we didn’t know any gay people! Imagine!  And we’ve gone from that -- to electing openly gay bishops; to same sex marriage being the law of our land -- and yes, to canonical marriage in the Episcopal Church to the person you love no matter your gender.

God is on the move in this church. God is awesome. God is abundant beyond our wildest imagination. It is such a joyful thing. I could not have imagined these things that have come to pass. And when we ask God for more wine, who knows what God has in store for us next, as we feast together, with all of our friends and our challenging Anglican relatives?

We are feasting around a banquet table that is groaning with grace and abundance. And we are all -- each and every one of us – focused on that head table, at which sits the Bridegroom whom each one of us loves. Raising our toast, with glasses of rich new wine, and crying: Glory! Glory!