Rector’s Address
Epiphany 4 – The Conversion of St. Paul
Preached on January 29, 2012
At St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Brookline
The Reverend Jeffrey W. Mello
Acts 26:9—21; Matthew 10:16—22
Let me begin simply by saying, “What a year it has been!” A year ago, I was unable to be with you at the regularly scheduled Annual Meeting, as Paul lay in the Intensive Care Unit at Beth Israel Hospital, holding on for his life. Surrounded by the best doctors and nurses in the world, he held on. Surrounded by the prayers and love and support of this community he held on. We held on.
As is so often the case with those kinds of events in our lives, we were changed. I was changed. Changed, I hope, for the better. It changed what I believed about prayer, as I have little doubt that it was the prayers of this community and many others that pulled us all through. I’m still not exactly sure how, but I am exactly sure they did.
But I think I’ve changed in other ways. I hope I am more grateful for each day I get to be Paul’s spouse and Ardani’s dad. I hope the little things that used to matter so much to me have taken their more rightful place at the edges of my vision.
Traumatic events lead us to new places in life, whether we want them to or not. These experiences convert us into someone new. Sometimes these conversions are moments of crisis, and sometimes they are of moments of unexpected joy, as when a new parent holding their child for the first time seems to convert in a moment into a mom or a dad.
Few of our conversions happen as dramatically as St. Paul’s conversion did. A notorious persecutor of those following the Way of Jesus, he is struck from his horse and hears Jesus’ voice. In that moment he is converted and goes on to spread the new church all over the known world.
Over the past year, I have been privileged to continue to listen to your stories, and you have shared them so generously. I have heard many of your stories of faith and what has led you here to this place at this moment. Preparing this Annual Address and praying about where we are as a parish through the lens of our patron saint’s fall from the horse, the word I would use to describe St. Paul’s right now is conversion. We are a people of conversion here at St. Paul’s. You might be surprised to hear that. And that’s exactly the point.
Conversions, at least as I’ve heard them from many of you, are moments when we have been surprised by God. Moments when we think to ourselves, “Huh, I never thought I’d be doing this!” Conversions are moments when we are drawn deeper into the heart of God, when the tug to go deeper in our relationship with God pulls at us and we say yes.
Some of you have told me you never thought you’d be a person who went to church at all.
Some of you told me you never meant church to be a “regular thing.”
Some have said you never expected to be reading, or setting the altar, or serving on a vestry.
Some have been surprised simply to find a place where you can hear the message of God’s love. Surprised church could be a place to ask questions. Surprised you needn’t have the answers. Surprised I didn’t have them either, or at least surprised I would admit that I didn’t.
Many of us here this morning have been “surprised by God” in this place, in many different ways.
We look around and see that chairs on Sunday mornings are becoming more and more a commodity, and we are delightfully surprised.
We walk through the Sunday School program and see full classrooms. “You know, these kids come just about every week” one teacher said to me, her eyes wide in surprise.
We hear our choir and joyful noise sing and are amazed at the glorious music. Surprised so few can sound like so many!
A parent told me recently that he was surprised to hear his child walking around the house singing songs from church. “I guess we’re people whose kid sings church songs now!” He said in thankful surprise.
I know I am constantly in a state of being surprised by God here. Each week, I am overwhelmed with joy that you all want to be here on a Sunday morning, even for an Annual Meeting! I am surprised we were able, despite the many, many details to be sorted out, to install new solar panels on our roof, making us better stewards of God’s creation.
Reading the Annual Report, and particularly Pat Dunbar’s careful Historian’s Report, I was surprised, no, amazed, at how much we were able to do in this place last year to bring about God’s Dream for the world, a glimpse at a time.
I am always delightfully surprised at the care and love you all have for one another. Over and over again, God surprises me in this place, and your willingness to say yes to those surprises; surprises me even more.
There is rarely a day that goes by when I am not surprised by how deeply I love being your priest. Rarely a day I don’t thank God for bringing us together, and joyfully surprised that I wouldn’t trade my hardest days for my colleagues’ best.
We are now in our third year together. If you were to take out the parish profile you created when you were in search for a rector, you’d see that we have accomplished much of what we set out to do together.
So now what? What is it that God is calling us to do together in our next year together?
I’d like to suggest we take this next year to challenge ourselves as to how we might be, each one of us, “surprised by God.”
Perhaps you have joined St. Paul’s in the last year or two or three. Maybe you’ve liked what you found here, and maybe that has surprised you. How will you let God surprise you again? What ministry or program would you love to try, but don’t know how to join, or even what it is. Be curious. Find out. Ask someone how it is you might share whatever gifts you have, or want to find out if you have.
Maybe you have been at St. Paul’s for 5, or 10, or 20, or 30 or 40 plus years. To this group I want to give particular thanks this morning. It is because of you that we are here this morning. It is because, in the face of fire, in moments of declining attendance and economic downturns, in times of scarce resources and slashed budgets, each of you put all of who you are into this place. Together, you allowed God to work in this place and surprise everyone. This morning, we owe you a great debt of thanks. And now, thanks to you, there are others to share the work. Now you don’t have to do everything by yourselves.
How will you allow yourself to be surprised by God this year? What ministry or program have you always wanted to get more involved with, but couldn’t because you were already so overcommitted? Where do your passions and joys meet the needs of St. Paul’s?
Many of you in this group have told me that you ended up doing the ministry you have done because someone asked you, and showed you how. They surprised you, inviting you into a ministry you never imagined. Who will you surprise this year? Who will you invite into a ministry they might never have imagined? Who will you teach and mentor, as you were surprised, and taught and mentored by another?
Our patron saint, Paul, thought he knew all of what there was to know about how God moved in the world. He was certain he knew what God wanted for him and from him.
Then, one day, he is struck from his horse, blinded and spoken to by Christ. He is most certainly surprised by God. To this surprise, he says yes, and his life is never the same.
We can follow in his steps, though chances are it will look quite different.
We might not be riding a horse, but we might believe that we are expected to do what we have always done, to believe what we have always believed. But what if we consider that God might be calling us to do something new, calling us to know something we have never known?
We might not get blinded by light and spoken to by Christ himself, but if we are the body of Christ, which we say we are when we gather at this table, what is this body of Christ saying to you? What might we say to each other to draw us into new places, to surprise one another?
We are incredibly blessed here at St. Paul’s. It is a good and joyful thing that the challenge in front of us is how we continue to support one another as our community grows. It is a blessing that the question before us is how we might respond to the gifts that surround us in this place.
How you respond to that blessing is up to you. But all I ask is that you respond. Every single one of you. Respond to the blessing. No matter how old you are, or how long you’ve been here, no matter what you think you can or can’t do, should or shouldn’t do, just try.
This year, take a risk. The result might surprise you. God might just surprise you. And thanks be to God for that!
AMEN.
© 2012 The Reverend Jeffrey W. Mello