+ In the Love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
22 years ago St. Gregory’s staff included our first woman priest and a Roman Catholic priest. As unlikely as that may sound, it’s true. You don’t have to take my word for it― you can ask parishioners who were here 22 years ago. Just out of curiosity, are there any parishioners here this morning who remember Mother Cathleen Chittenden-Bascom― who was our Curate― and Father Don Craig― who was our Organist? {{Congregational Response}}
22 years is the same amount of time between the year 33, when Jesus was crucified and raised from the dead, and the year 55 when Paul wrote his first letter to the Corinthians:
“For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas [which is Peter’s name in Aramaic], then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died.”
Just as I can find you parishioners who remember Cathy and Don from 22 years ago, Paul could find people who had seen the risen Jesus 22 years earlier.
But notice Paul’s words: “For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received. . . .” That’s how the good news has continued ever since― Christians handing on their experiences of the risen Lord.
In 1982 Richard Holloway, a Scottish priest living in Boston, and who later became the Presiding Bishop of the Scottish Episcopal Church, wrote a series of meditations which I have used for many years on Good Friday. In one of his meditations he writes this:
“. . . I used to write [my sermons] all out in longhand in big notebooks. I still have them all, great big notebooks full of handwritten sermons. . . .
“As well as having those volumes of my own sermons, I also have a complete set of another man’s notebooks. . . . One says on it: ‘Aberdeen 1928. . . .’ In this book there are about forty sermons written out. . . . I find something moving and supportive and very wistful in these notebooks, as I think of that priest in his study in Aberdeen, all those years ago. . . . I get from these books a sense of the presence of Christ, the contemporary reality of Christ. [Christ] was real to this man as . . . [Christ] is real to me, as I wrestle with his elusive but overwhelming reality.
“. . . There is a chain of succession, an actualizing of the presence of Christ, which comes through this strange and mysterious activity of preaching. . . .
“That is one reason why I look at this man’s notebooks. I see him humbly, haltingly trying to put down on paper what can never really be put into words: the reality of the universal Christ, in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, in Aberdeen sixty years ago, and in Boston today. Preachers, for all their dumbness and confusion, nevertheless know that Christ is the real and living one.”
When I first read this, I felt a thrill of recognition, because I have a collection of sermons and notes that Father Hanner, my parish priest when I was growing up, handed on to me, just as those other man’s notebooks and sermons had been handed on to Richard Holloway.
Just a few days ago, on Maundy Thursday, Julia Miller, a former parishioner, handed on her remarkable experience of the risen Lord by posting it on Facebook. Here it is:
“I grew up in an Episcopal church that had a Maundy Thursday prayer vigil. From Maundy Thursday evening through Good Friday morning, people stayed and prayed through the night. . . . For as far back as I can remember, . . . after the Maundy Thursday service, my mother has always stayed and prayed, ‘kept watch’ with Jesus.
“On Maundy Thursday in 2005 . . . I was working the closing shift of my restaurant. I turned off the lights, set the security alarms, and [a young woman named Kim and I] walked out together into the parking lot. From around the corner of the back of the building, two men dressed in black from head to toe, including ski masks covering their faces, came running toward us. We started screaming as they grabbed us and pointed their guns at us and told us to shut up. They wanted us to let them into the building, turn off the alarm, and give them all the money out of the safe.
“As I was filling up one of the guy’s open backpack with money while he pointed his gun at my face, . . . I said out loud, ‘I’m pregnant. Please don't hurt us or my baby.’ The guy . . . lowered his gun and actually asked me how far along I was! I told him, and he said they wouldn’t hurt us, that they just wanted the money. Then he told me to lie down and started tying up my arms and legs.
“I folded my hands together and began to silently pray. I remembered that it was Maundy Thursday, and I KNEW and FELT that my mother was at her church right at that very moment praying for me and the baby. I was filled with a strength and peace like I’ve never known before. . . . But I was [also] filled with grief for [my husband] Terry, thinking about how sad he’d be to go the rest of his life without us and knowing our baby. I prayed hard for God to be with Terry for the rest of his life and bless him. I gave thanks for my mother who was constantly praying for me. And I prayed for God to forgive and bless the two robbers. . . .
“That Easter Sunday in 2005, in celebrating the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ and knowing that I had the new life of my baby within me, I knew that I had also been given the gift of a new life.”
“The gift of a new life.” That’s what all of us are receiving today― the gift of new life from the resurrection of Jesus Christ from then dead.
Now that’s something to hand on!
Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is Risen indeed! Alleluia!
+ + +
Postscript 1.
As I was getting ready for the 8 o’clock service, Mary and Fred Herlocker surprised me. They knew me from my growing-up days at the Church of the Holy Comforter where Father Hanner was the Rector. I had had no idea they were coming, nor did they have any idea that I would be talking about Father Hanner in my sermon! Mary was a nurse, and in those days I had a predilection for fainting in church. Mary was always there to revive me! (My dad always said, “Bill’s having another one of his visions!”)
Postscript 2.
Julia Miller writes: “I had always gone with my parents to St. Mary’s Korean / One in Christ Episcopal Church. I graduated college in 2000 and moved into the city for a little bit, but it didn’t work out. I moved back home in 2001 and decided I wanted to find an English-speaking church, and I knew Mrs. Potter [who had been the priest at St. Mary’s Korean / One in Christ] was at St. Gregory’s. I was at St. Gregory’s from February 2001 until November 2003. My time there was short but very meaningful.
[Mother Meredith Potter baptized Julia and officiated when Julia married Terry.]
Here is Julia’s complete Facebook text:
My Easter Story: the Gift of New Life (or, Why I Am ALWAYS Saying How Blessed I Am!)
Every year on Maundy Thursday, I become very reflective about what happened to me in 2005. While 2 months pregnant with Angela, I was robbed at gunpoint & left tied up on the floor of my work office.
Here is an article that I wrote last year about the experience:
I’ve always loved the Easter season. It is the very core of being a Christian, that Jesus Christ died for our sins and rose again, so that we may have new life in Him.
I grew up in an Episcopal church that had a Maundy Thursday prayer vigil. From Maundy Thursday evening through Good Friday morning, people stayed and prayed through the night. This commemorates the disciples beings asked by Jesus to stay and keep watch with him while he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before he was crucified (Mark 14: 32-42). For as far back as I can remember, every Easter weekend after the Maundy Thursday service, my mother has always stayed and prayed, “kept watch” with Jesus.
On Maundy Thursday in 2005, I was robbed at gunpoint and left tied up on the floor of my office. I was two months pregnant with our precious first-born child Angela, and I could feel the protective arms of God wrap around us and fill us with His love and peace throught the ordeal.
Terry & I were living and working in Minneapolis. We were blessed and delighted with the path God was putting us on. We had been married a year and a half, and we were managers for Chili’s restaurants. He had just been promoted to a General Manager position, and the company had just moved us from Milwaukee to Minneapolis. Shortly after moving, as we were settling into our new home, church, and restaurants, I became pregnant. Everything was happening just as we hoped for, and we felt completely blessed.
On Maundy Thursday, I was working the closing shift of my restaurant. After the last of the guests left, I locked all the doors and finished up my paperwork while the last of the employees finished cleaning. Whoever was last to finish always waited for me so I was not alone in the building, whether it was a cook or dishwasher or server or bartender. This evening, it was my bartender, a young woman named Kim. I turned off the lights, set the security alarms, and we walked out together into the parking lot.
From around the corner of the back of the building, two men dressed in black from head to toe, including ski masks covering their faces, came running tward us. We started screaming as they grabbed us and pointed their guns at us and told us to shut up. They wanted us to let them into the building, turn off the alarm, and give them all the money out of the safe.
As I was filling up one of the guy’s open backpack with money while he pointed his gun at my face, the other guy was tying Kim up on the floor. I said out loud, “I’m pregnant. Please don’t hurt us or my baby.” The guy with me lowered his gun and actually asked me how far along I was! I told him, and he said they wouldn’t hurt us, that they just wanted the money. Then he told me to lie down and started tying up my arms and legs.
I folded my hands together and began to silently pray. I remembered that it was Maundy Thursday, and I KNEW and FELT that my mother was at her church right at that very moment praying for me and the baby. I was filled with a strength and peace like I’ve never known before. I said to God that if it was His will that the baby and I die that night, then His will be done. I selfishly prayed that it not be painful and that the baby wouldn’t suffer, but I was at peace with whatever was going to happen to us.
But I was filled with grief for Terry, thinking about how sad he’d be to go the rest of his life without us and knowing our baby. I prayed hard for God to be with Terry for the rest of his life and bless him. I gave thanks for my mother who was constantly praying for me. And I prayed for God to forgive and bless the two robbers.
I was amazed later when reading my Bible that in the Garden of Gethsamane, Jesus prayed, “Please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.” (Matthew 26:39, Mark 14:36, Luke 22:42)
I do NOT dare to compare myself with Jesus and even think that what I went through is anything like what He went through! I believe myself to be completely unworthy and undeserving of His love and grace and forgiveness. I am always wondering, who am I that He blesses me so? But that Easter Sunday in 2005, in celebrating the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ and knowing that I had the new life of my baby within me, I knew that I had also been given the gift of a new life.
“All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is by his great mercy that we have been born again, because God raised Jesus Christ from the dead.” 1 Peter 1:3
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