David chastises his brothers for not volunteering. They shoo him off. No body wants to look like a coward before his younger brother! David ends up in front of Saul, the king. After pleading his case with Saul of his worthiness to represent all of Israel in the battle with the giant, Saul relents allowing David to go. But Saul is concerned about Israel’s champion so he dresses David for battle:

I Samuel tells us, “Saul clothed David with his armor; he put a bronze helmet on his head and clothed him with a coat of mail. David strapped Saul’s sword over the armor, and …[he couldn’t move!] in vain he tried to walk…” (17:38-39).

I have this picture of a child in adult’s clothing trying to pick one leg up and then the other. He wasn’t used to the weight or the equipment Saul used for battle. No, David had been in battles but never with Saul’s choice of weapons. He was a shepherd and he had used his hands, his staff, and his sling against the predators that threatened his father’s sheep. He would use those same weapons in his battle with Goliath…and it was enough. The rest is history.

I remember once talking to a group of parishioners about a major fund raising task that lay ahead of us. It was going to greatly tap our resources and the vestry was very nervous…as only vestries can be. A very quiet grandmother in the meeting reminded me that we only needed the Lord’s help to succeed. She said, “Remember David? He didn’t have a college degree in giant killing before he faced Goliath. He succeeded for two reasons: the Lord had need of him and the Lord gave him the resources to accomplish it.” I have never forgotten that wonderful lesson: the Lord gives us the resources we need to face whatever challenge comes our way.

Today begins a new chapter in the life of St. Ann’s. I hope it is a short chapter that is more like a prologue. A month ago I said some things about this when I served as one your supply priests. Some of you were not here so I want to reiterate a few things this Sunday.

The leadership of a great rector, Lisa Hunt, has truly blessed this parish. She is gone but the impact of her ministry is all around us. It is evidenced in the very mortar and brick of this building and her words are carved in stone in front of the property. Her legacy is in part that she left a healthy church to begin her work in a new place, something she had never done. We will continue to keep her and St. Stephens in our prayers as she writes a new chapter in their history.

What is important is we recognize that we have turned the page. You are not quite ready to embark on a new full chapter of mission and ministry because there are some things that need to be accomplished: a time for dealing with the feelings you have over her departure; a profile of this parish needs to be written, which will include Lisa’s contributions as well as the hopes of this parish for future leadership. That will become an invaluable document of the calling process for a new priest. A strong search committee needs to be created and marching orders given by the vestry to it about the kind of person you are seeking; in the meantime, a capital campaign must be completed successfully in order to insure the present use of the parking lot as a source of revenue and a practical necessity for any future church building; and programs need to be strengthened and activities need to be maintained for the purpose of furthering the Lord’s work here.

All of these will take time to accomplish. So we might call this new chapter: a time of transition. I have been asked to lead you for the next year or so. It is my task to work myself out of a job, to be the transitional person to take you to the next level when you call your new rector. I look forward to this year and I look forward to the successful calling of the next person who will lead you onward.

It is tempting to make some reference here to Moses who didn’t get a chance to accompany the children of Israel into the Promised Land, but modesty prevents me from doing so.

These are important and exciting tasks to be accomplished. In many ways we will be challenged and stretched as we seek to complete them. I suspect there will be unhappiness from time to time: with me, with the vestry, or with each other…I have never been in a parish where we didn’t disagree about something…but I have never been in a parish that had as much potential for accomplishing great goals as St. Ann’s. You have an incredible foundation and I rejoice that I am to be part of your life if only briefly.

In the gospel reading this morning (John 5:56-69), Jesus challenges his disciples to be faithful. Apparently many who heard this message decided it was too much for them. He had been speaking of his body and blood being food and drink, all of which was anathema to the Jews. So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Peter answered him, “Lord to whom do we go? You have the words of eternal life” (v.67, 68).

For the disciples Jesus was the only real game in town because despite the difficulties of following him, he held the one thing that made everything else worthwhile: life in abundance. They experienced it when they were with him. They came alive because he taught them what the Father was calling them to do. He empowered them so that they were able to do miraculous things in God’s name. They were on fire with his love that burned within their hearts. No, they would not leave him for he held the key to life itself.

That’s what we are about here. We are called to be the community of faith that is on fire with the love of the Lord. The key to success of any venture we enter is whether the Lord is part of it. We are all important here. It is not the clergy who are the church. You are the church and together we will do the ministry God is calling us to do.

Over the door of the priest’s sacristy at St. George’s there is a plaque that reads, “There be dragons.” I thought about that many times as we went through the difficulties that have plagued our whole church. There be real dragons out there in the world: poverty, injustice, prejudice, intolerance, and fear. But there be dragons within the community of faith that mirror much within the world: intolerance, injustice, prejudice, and fear.

There is not a person here with a degree in giant or dragon killing. We have challenges ahead of us but I believe the Lord has need of you and of me as members to be his body, the church. The Lord has need of faithful voices that believe in mercy, compassion,

and unconditional love. These have never been the currency of the world but they are the only remedy of a world gone mad with fear and hatred.

If we trust the leading of the Lord, then the Lord will provide us with strength to carry our mission forward in this place during this period of transition. We will build on the foundation established by all those lay and clergy leaders who went before us in this place.

The Lord has need of all of us during this period. May God give us the courage to commit our lives even more deeply that this parish will not fail in her mission. Remember Paul and put on the whole armor of God that we might withstand all that the enemy of faith throws against us that we might persevere to the end.

Amen

The Rev. Dr. W. Robert Abstein
Interim Rector, St. Ann’s, Nashville

          On the road they encountered crowds but more importantly two different people who presented themselves to become disciples.  When all was said and done the disciples must have questioned whether Jesus accepted the right one.

          Earlier in the tenth chapter of Mark, a man ran up to Jesus asking how he might find eternal life.  He was wealthy, young, pious, and would be an incredible asset to any growing company.  But Jesus told him to sell what he had first and then give the proceeds away before joining them.  It was a blow.  He had much.  He had too much, in fact, to do this.  In spite of that, Jesus loved him but also knew his possessions possessed him.  For the disciples who believed that wealth was a sign of God’s favor, they wondered aloud, “Who then can be saved?”
          In today’s gospel we have the second character.  He has no wealth, no outward sign of God’s favor.  In fact, he has quite the opposite.  His blindness was perceived in those days as a sign of God’s disfavor or, even, a sign of his sin.  To boot, he was nameless.  Bartimaeus is a compilation of two words that mean “son of” and “Timaeus.”  He is simply the son of someone.  He is like the cat that appeared in a London newspaper.  It was an ad for a found cat.  “Found kitten with white paws and bib.  Very affectionate.  Answers to the name ‘go away.’” 

          That is the plight of Bartimaeus.  The disciples want him to go away and quit bothering Jesus.  Yet Jesus responded to him.  He called him from beside the road.  Bartimaeus had nothing at all.  He pled for his sight.  Jesus gave him everything because the one thing he has is trust.  It is no-name son of Timaeus and not the rich young man who became a disciple of Jesus.

          This was surely confusing to the disciples.  What kind of leader were they following?  The attractive candidate was put off by the words of Jesus and the least attractive was accepted. 

          In a way I think this is the evangelist Mark unpacking the story of Jesus.  It is his statement about the church and it is a portrait of judgment.  Mark pictures the crowd marching merrily to Jerusalem, totally oblivious of the waiting cross.  As they journey the crowd refused to be interrupted by the needs of the world, whether it was women bringing children or a blind beggar by the roadside.  The disciples discouraged one and all from approaching the master in their march to Jerusalem.

          But Jesus knew where this parade was heading.  He knew what the cost was going to be to him.  He knew that only those who were willing to deal with the issue of trust would ultimately make it.  The wealthy man could not because he could not let go of what he had and trust in Jesus.  Bartimaeus did trust and because of that he was enabled to follow.

          This is one of the curiosities of the gospel.  The seeing folk are the ones who are blind.  The blind folks see. 

          Mark’s picture seems clear to me.  To follow Jesus is a call to a committed life.  That begins with trust.  It is first of all a willingness to trust our wealth.  That is the issue of stewardship.  It is our willingness to give to God through the church as well as other institutions whose commitment is to benefit humankind.  Anthony de Mello wrote this little vignette:
          A businessman asked the Master: “How would spirituality help a man of the world like me?”
          “It would help you to have more,” said the master.
          “How?”
          “By teaching you to desire less.” (One Minute Wisdom)         

          The challenge of stewardship is setting our priorities in this world.  It is seeing that all that we have is from God and what we are asked to do is to trust God’s leadership by desiring less.

          The committed life is secondly a willingness to trust God with our lives.  To trust God with our lives requires that we first acknowledge our own blindness.  We must curb our desire to acquire things at any cost…to be possessed by our possessions. 

          Thirdly, a committed life enables us to be bathed in the forgiving love of our Lord.  The rich young man had everything.  Because of that wealth he was insulated from the love of Jesus, who was at that very moment was reaching out to him.  Bartimaeus, in his poverty, felt the healing embrace of the Son of God because he had great need.

          Our church is part of the parade marching towards judgment.  “No name” “go away” Timaeus calls to us from the roadside: he is hungry, homeless, powerless; she has AIDS, living in a ghetto; she is a battered woman, he is a poorly educated child…can you hear them?  Or are we too caught up in our own busyness or agenda to let go and let God be our guide?

          To follow Jesus is to be brought up short because no one has all of the answers about being faithful.  I do believe we are being called to turn to the side, to listen to the cries of those in need and ask ourselves what are we going to do about it.  Is this the time to say no to the church?

          There is much fear and anxiety in what we are about as a church, but there was more fear that day in Jericho.  To follow Jesus is to dare to keep going even when we can see on the horizon a cross…that is the cost of discipleship.

          To follow Jesus is to give a name to “go away” Timaeus.  It is to put a name to those faceless people we see along the way.  That name is “Child of God;” that name is “Beloved of the Father.” We are called to minister to them.  That is what this church is about.  It is to say to him or her, “Because of Jesus, the one at the head of this parade, you are worth dying for.”  It is for me the only reason for the journey at all.

          As we do to the least we have done it for him.  And if we really see the point, we, with the newly renamed Bartimaeuses of the world, will follow.

Amen
 

The Rev. Dr. W. Robert Abstein
St. Ann’s Church
Nashville TN
                  

          Have you ever been proven wrong about a first impression?  I have on any number of occasions but never as wrong as I was about a young man whose name was John.  I was serving a suburban church in Atlanta.  He just showed up one day to see me.  He walked with crutches because of childhood polio.  Although a college graduate, his grammar was atrocious and he spoke with the north Georgia twang of an uneducated man.  He said he was looking for a church but it was clear from the number of follow-up appointments he was looking for a friend.  From the first I knew it wasn’t going to be me.

          But I could not have been more wrong.  I quickly learned he was a man who had no guile…no hidden agenda.  He was as open and honest a person as I have ever met.  Before very long I found myself sharing my own problems with him.  In a very real sense John became my confidant and confessor.  It was one of the great privileges in my life that I was with him in his final hours of battling cancer. 

          The church was full on the day of the funeral.  I discovered that John had affected many, many people with his folksy way of speaking in that Georgia twang.  Virtually everyone who spoke to me said he simply loved people unconditionally.  I have long since repented of the day I thought to myself, “There’s someone I could never get to like.”  First impressions can be very wrong indeed.

          The gospel today reveals just how wrong Peter’s first impressions of Jesus were.  He was among the first disciples so he had a front row seat at Jesus’ healings, his teachings, and his day-to-day living.  He had shared his food with Jesus as well as his home in Capernaum.  One day on a dusty road everything became sparkling clear to Peter.  He had an answer for the question Jesus was asking.

          They were traveling in the region of Caesarea Philippi, which is a little northeast of Capernaum.  Jesus asked them, “Who do people say that I am?”  There was apparently much speculation about this larger than life man who had burst on the religious scene earlier that year.  I think Jesus was trying to find out if anyone had a hint about his mission that would allow him to make some final plans.

          Well, the disciples answered offering their own speculations and those of the crowds that had also witnessed the ministry of Jesus.  They said, “Some people thing you are John the Baptist; and others think you might be Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” Then Jesus asked the real question, “But who do you say that I am?” (Mark 8:27-29).  Here is where Peter blurted out, “You are the Messiah!” 

          The word Messiah meant the Christ, God’s anointed, and it fit everything Peter believed about the one for whom his people were looking.  The Messiah would be the one to restore the fortunes of Israel and give the boot to their Roman masters.  The Messiah would be the one to restore the kingdom to its golden age of Kings David and Solomon, the true glory days of Israel.  Peter saw in Jesus a Messiah King who would liberate Israel.

           His impression of who Jesus was is not all that different from many of the impressions people have of Jesus today.  For some he is seen as simply a friend of children found in churches’ stained glass and Christian coloring books; or, like Thomas Jefferson, a teacher of morals and good behavior; or, for some, a revolutionary character who inspires violence against oppression.  He is held up by many politicians as an endorser of our nation’s values. And for some television evangelists, he is marketed as an avenue to riches and fame.

           But that is not what Jesus claimed for himself.  He said, “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and after three days rise again” (Mark 8:31).  Jesus understood that Messiah meant suffering and death not glory and honor and riches and fame.  He was modeling the prophet Isaiah’s suffering servant not Israel’s King David. 

           Peter’s Messiah did not include the cross.  Peter was furious that Jesus would say such things about suffering and dying.  Jesus had to rebuke Peter’s impressions for he was projecting on Jesus the Messiah he wanted and Jesus would have none of it.  For Jesus, being Messiah, meant a long journey to Jerusalem and the cross.  And from that moment on Jesus set his face towards that city that held his fate.

           “Who do you say that I am?” is a profound question for anyone who wants to understand the Christian faith.  There is no glib or easy answer and I find those people disturbing who offer cheap substitutes for an authentic Christ; who present Jesus as a happy soul making no demands.  Jesus said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (8:34).

           Being a disciple of Jesus requires three things: self-denial, taking up the cross of sacrifice, and following him.  That means learning to live in the world of suffering and caring deeply about it because Jesus cared deeply for it.  It means following a man whose love was unconditional rather than following doctrines that quantify and qualify love. 

           Following Jesus has never been an easy thing for he is going where the Father leads.  Ewald Bash wrote of this in a short piece:
“My God,” called Moses, “the humor’s all sucked out of me.  God, where are you?”  God was not up on Sinai, or in heaven, or in any of the local churches.  Moses couldn’t find God anywhere.  Looking, looking, he finally found God on a Bengali Street, dying with eight hundred others that day.  Moses pressed bread to the lips of God, but God turned away refusing the offer. “Over there,” God whispered pointing to another in need (Source unknown).
It is not easy to follow Jesus and sometimes we get it wrong more often than right.  I do know this that the correct picture of Jesus must include the cross.  No portrait of him is complete without it.  And for those of us who would follow him, that picture is not complete without us standing right there with him…no matter where the path might lead.  For that is the way to life.
Amen
The Rev. Dr. W. Robert Abstein
St. Ann’s, Nashville
 

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, ‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. When it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, ‘This is a deserted place, and the hour is now very late; send them away so that they may go into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat.’ But he answered them, ‘You give them something to eat.’ They said to him, ‘Are we to go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread, and give it to them to eat?’ And he said to them, ‘How many loaves have you? Go and see.’ When they had found out, they said, ‘Five, and two fish.’ Then he ordered them to get all the people to sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups of hundreds and of fifties. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before the people; and he divided the two fish among them all. And all ate and were filled; and they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish. Those who had eaten the loaves numbered five thousand men.

FOCUS SENTENCE: The compassion that comes to us from Jesus enables us to live compassionately ourselves and to show compassion from our own hearts for others.

I
Jesus and the disciples
are ready for a quiet time.

The twelve have returned
from their missionary journeys
where they have performed acts of healing
and called the people to repentance.

They are greatly excited
by all that has happened to them,
and they can’t wait to tell Jesus.

“But first,”
Jesus says,
“we need to find a quiet place by ourselves.”

The crowds are pressing on them
so steadily
that they have no time to rest
or even to eat.

So Jesus loads the disciples into boats
and leads them to a place
he knows
further down along the seashore.

When they get to their retreat site,
what do you know!?

The crowd has followed them
by land,
and they have arrived there
ahead of them.

Jesus and his friends
get out of the boats
and meet the people
on the shore.

Doubtless
Jesus looks closely at them
to size up the situation.

These people have come
to this deserted place
on foot
wearing sandals
that have made their hurrying
all the more difficult.

Their clothes show
the dust of their rough journey.

But it is their expectant faces
and their eager eyes
that are most notable to Jesus.

Their fatigue gives way
to their longing;
they need to hear more
from this Jesus,
who may actually have come to them
from God.

And so Jesus “has compassion for them.”

Jesus’ compassion
for the needs of the people
wells up in his heart.

What he knows is
that “they are like sheep
without a shepherd.”

He right away
changes the plans for
his disciples and himself.

His compassion for the people
brings him to give up
their rest time.

Jesus pays attention
to what the people
seem to need,
and compassionately
“he begins to teach them many things.”

II

Mark must have loved this story,
because he recounts it to us
with feeling.

Mark hasn’t just stuck this event
in between the missionary journeys
and the feeding of the multitude
just ahead.

This isn’t just a literary interlude
to move Jesus from one place to another
as you might find in a novel
or a movie. No.

This story is important to the church.

It’s about Jesus’ giving up
looking out for himself and his friends
in behalf the needs
of other men and women.

We can imagine that
copies of Mark’s gospel
have been made;
and they have been rushed
by couriers
to various churches
where the story
is needed so badly.

There are scores,
perhaps hundreds or more,
of brand new
followers of Jesus Christ,
some newly baptized,
who gather weekly
at great personal risk
to eat the bread
and drink the wine.

They want to hear Mark’s report
of how it all happened.

And,
more than that,
they will be
informed and shaped
by what they hear.

These small groups of followers of Jesus
here and there
are going to learn something very important from these verses
you and I are hearing
this morning.

These brand new Christians
are going to hear
that compassion is the power
that moves from Jesus
to those who need him.

They are going to learn
that Jesus’ compassion
they’re witnessing
on the shore of the lake that day–
that compassion that brings Jesus
to set all aside
and to take care of those who need him–
is what other new
Christian men and women
are learning to do
themselves.

And they’re going to realize
what is required of them.

Mark is telling a story
from which new Christians will learn
that Jesus Christ is calling them
to be compassionate
toward one another
and to be ready to care
for the needs of others.

The disciples
have been on the road
preaching repentance.

Jesus is showing them what’s next.

He wants them
to have compassion
for the people.

III

Of course,
those hearing Mark’s story
read to them
will discover
that the disciples themselves
don’t understand it
right away.

The idea of loving others compassionately
more than we love ourselves
is hard to catch on to.

Unbridled compassion for others is hard
to come by
in ourselves.

It takes practice and work.

Look what happens.

The disciples begin to realize
that Jesus is so carried away
by his teaching and healing
that he has forgotten
the time of day.

The disciples begin to get a little jumpy
about what’s going on.

In their fledgling compassion,
their apprenticeship efforts
to consider others,
they come up with
a sort of a
“quasi-compassionate”
suggestion.

They come to Jesus and say,
“Jesus, this is a deserted place,
and the hour is now very late.

“The most compassionate thing
we can do
for these tired and hungry people is to send them away
so that they may go
into
the surrounding country and villages
and buy something for themselves
to eat.”

We wonder whether Jesus
is thinking to himself,
“These disciples of mine
are rookies
in the compassion business.”

He has a surprise answer for them.

“You give them something to eat.”

“Come on, Jesus.

“You’re not getting the picture,” they complain.

“What do you expect of us?

“Are we to go and buy
two hundred denarii worth of bread,
and give it to them to eat?

“Why, that would be
two hundred day’s pay
for a single working person.

“Be reasonable, Jesus.”

And there follows the story we all know.

Jesus’ compassion
comes forth from his heart
once again.

From the five loaves and two fish
brought to him,
Jesus feeds a multitude of people numbering more than
five thousand men, women, and children.

IV

It’s easy to get distracted
in the Scripture
we have before us
this morning.

If we were to make the feeding of the people
the main thing here,
and if we were to marvel at Jesus’
power and cunning,
we would be distracted
from something more subtle
that’s in there for us.

It would be easy for us
to miss
that Jesus is acting compassionately, and you and I
are being called
to be compassionate
toward one another.

This is a story
about Jesus’ compassion
and about his showing forth compassion
to the disciples,
to the people in the crowd,
to the young church
for whom Mark is writing,
and to you and me.

He shows us
that whatever good we may be doing, however good it is,
needs to be done
with compassion for all humankind,
near and far.

You and I are called to be compassionate.

V

We can’t help in these Sundays
along now
this summer
reflecting on our own church today.

Not to talk about
what’s going on among us Episcopalians
is like ignoring
the elephant that’s in the room
with us
every time we come together.

The Rev. David Seger,
a consultant visiting us in this Diocese,
remarked to a group of us
about his observation
on the whole Episcopal Church.

We are no longer a “charitable church,”
he said.

We have reached a point among ourselves
at which
there is no meaningful communication toward healing.

We count others as guilty
by their association
with their fellows and their ideas.

The result is
that the Episcopal Church
is losing its middle ground,
Fr. Sever says,
and it may not be possible to recover it.

What we need
is a bridge built between the two sides,
a bridge that allows us
to be in relationship
with those with whom we
profoundly disagree.

Father Seger’s suggestion begins,
I think,
with compassion for one another.

What if one Sunday
folks in this congregation
were to go out in groups of five or so
to other congregations in Nashville,
those who disagree with us and with whom we disagree.

We would listen to
the adult discussion group.

We would go to the coffee hour.

We would be courteous,
reverent,
self-giving.

We would not honor
the points of view
we hear
when we cannot honor them,
but we would honor the people
who have
the points of view.

We would invite them to visit Saint Anne’s.

Some might even do it.

I think–I’m not sure–
but I think
we just might begin to have
greater compassion for those
with whom we disagree.

Maybe,
just maybe,
the middle ground we need among us would begin to appear again.

VI

But compassion isn’t required
just in the Episcopal Church;
Jesus requires compassion everywhere.

In my study is a plaque that says,
“Give a damn.”

(Somebody who thought I needed it
gave it to me.)

I looked at it this week,
and I realized once again
that compassion is hard work.

That’s what those rookie disciples
were discovering.

Compassion,
Jesus showed them,
isn’t telling people
to go to the store
and buy what they need.

No. Compassion
is giving them what they need
from our hearts
while caring passionately
for their well-being.

The disciples eventually discovered
that Jesus was being reasonable.

His compassion began to rule
among all who knew him,
and then in all who became part
of his church.

We remind ourselves
then
of what Jesus is saying and doing among those people this morning.

He is acting out before their eyes and ours and in the hearing of all
that God through Christ Jesus
is calling all of us,
you and me,
to become compassionate toward all humankind.

The Reverend William Hethcock, Professor of Homiletics , Emeritus
The School of Theology, University of the South, Sewanee