August 12, 2007
ELCA Churchwide Assembly Day Eight
Sunday
I was going to say Epilogue, but can't. Because this and it isn't. An epilogue is that, at the end of a story, that tidies up some of the loose ends, that tells what ultimately happens, that closes out the tale. An epilogue releases you gently back into the world as you know it, the real world, the world that is basically unchanged by the story you have been so engrossed in. An epilogue is followed by a couple of blank pages and the back cover that protects the story from the real world. Shut the book, savor the story, and look for another story, another book – something else to take up your interest.
This is none of those. Oh, there are loose ends; there always are in real life. That is what this is: real life, real lives, real joys, real tears, real sorrows, real exultation, the reality of Christ and your requirement to spread the Word.
I do know what ultimately happens: full inclusion and acceptance of God's truth. God's truth is that we are, and always have been, part of the wondrous diversity of God's creation, children of God, cousins to Adam and Eve, redeemed by Christ, brothers and sisters in Christ, bound to help each other and, most important, help others (have you invited someone to come to church with you lately; do it), sinful because of what we may do or fail to do in our relationships with others and God, but not because we are LGBT or because of who we are – and don't let anyone separate you from that truth.
Who we love, my goodness, loving partnership is such a wonderful thing – till death do us part. The only people who own those words are the people who say them to each other. None others.
Released back into a real world that is unchanged by the story that so engrossed you: NOT. The real world is most assuredly changed. The story is and was in the real world, and the real world knows it is changed following this churchwide assembly. There is no other story, no next thing that attracts your interest. This story continues. The stories that count are the two: the saving grace of Christ and your story. Tell them.
And, if they come after you, stand up – it lifts the rock up off a process that likes darkness and secrecy. The taller you stand, the more sunshine comes in.
Even if they don't come after you, stand up. It lifts the rock up. It lifts you up.
I went to St Luke's at Logan Square for church today. It was lovely to be with people who probably had no idea what Move to Call All the Questions Before The House means, but have a very fine-tuned understanding of what it means to welcome people.
St Luke's is a lovely church, set in a neighborhood much like I grew up in – where you walked to church with the neighbors, met your friends along the way, separated yourselves from the parents and cycled on your friends till called to heel by Mom (preferably) or Dad.
The music was wonderful at St Luke's – but, it is Lutheran, isn't it.
Pastor Eric Christensen preached on the Abraham and Sarah text: God is doing something amazing here. A 75-year-old man and a barren woman are going to have not just a child, but give birth to a nation. Surely an uphill battle that. Eric said that, like Abraham and Sarah, we were met, pilgrim people, some from here, some from afar, all on a journey. We met at the intersection of our journeys, to share worship, fellowship, and part – not quite the same for having met, better.
I like the parting benediction at St Luke's. St Luke's lines up down both sides of the central aisle, linking hands, with pastor at the altar end. The other end, the street end, is open-ended to encompass everyone whether they know it or not… And we say the words of benediction… You were blessed this Sunday, by all of us at St Luke's.
This past week I was blessed by all of you. Stand up; it lifts the rock off.
Keep saying over and over "it's going to be a good day"… and, leave early for your labors, for your work; you get better parking.
Phil Soucy
Director Communications LC/NA
communications@lcna.org
