Seventh Sunday of Easter

May 4, 2008

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

The Rev. Hannah Anderson

"Listening Ears"

On Monday of this past week, I traveled with Anne Marcure (our Organist and Choir Director) to Andover Newton Seminary outside of Boston where we were to lead a worship service for the Episcopal students.  Anne graciously offered to drive and I accepted, knowing that the trip in her new car would be far more comfortable than our truck. 

 

We set off early in the morning.  A solid hour into the trip, as we discussed the plans for the worship service, I checked in my briefcase for the copies of the Eucharistic prayer I had planned to use for the occasion.  No sign whatsoever of it!  In my great organization, I had left the pile of neatly copied prayers on the dining room table.  What would we do?  I had chosen to use the Iona prayer so that the students would hear something slightly different.

I decided to call the church office and ask Kathy Sulock, our Administrative Assistant, to read the prayer to me over the phone while I transcribed it.  “Do you have a cell phone, Anne, that I could use?” I asked her.  Like a wizard, she said we didn’t need one; that you could just push a button and ask for the number to be dialed.  She pushed a button and said, “Dial number.  413” and a voice from somewhere reiterated, ‘413,’ “448” (‘448’) “8276” (‘8276’).  Like magic, Kathy Sulock answered on the other end.  Her voice in the car was clear as a bell. 

I explained to Kathy the dilemma.  She went to the Chapel to get a copy of the Iona Great Thanksgiving while we drove on, waiting for her voice to return.  And then she began to read the prayer, one phrase at a time so that I could copy the words to a paper. 

“At the last supper,

Jesus, sharing bread and wine,

 invited the disciples

 to share his journey. 

Like may grains of wheat

Becoming one loaf of bread,

The disciples were called

To become one body with him.”

Phrase by phrase she spoke and I wrote.  We found a rhythm in mid-air.  All the while, Anne drove in and out of fog on the Mass Turnpike.

And then it happened.

Suddenly, as Kathy was reading the words of institution, the words that we say when we remember what Jesus did on the night before he died, it was no longer Kathy reading. 

Both Anne and I became keenly aware that we had entered a different time and space, overhearing a prayer from our Lord begin spoken out loud just to us, in a car:

“Gathered with his friends

around a table,

Jesus took bread. 

He blessed the bread, broke it,

and shared it with his friends saying,

“This is my body which is given for you. 

Do this for the remembrance of me.

In the same way, after supper,

he took the cup of wine,

and having blessed it,

he poured it out

and gave the cup to his disciples saying,

“This is the blood of a new covenant with God,

sealed with my blood. 

Take this and share it. 

I shall drink wine with you next when God’s reign comes.” 

I stopped writing and said to Kathy, “I know you’re just reading this, Kathy, but there is something that is happening to us here in the car.  We are experiencing the voice of God speaking directly to us.  Just give me a minute to take it in.”

Anne and I exchanged glances.  There was a palpable presence in the car, a shift in our realization of what was happening.  The prayer for the early disciples had become a prayer for us in that moment.

Kathy continued.

“Lord Jesus Christ,

present with us now,

breathe your Spirit upon these gifts

that they may become heaven’s food and drink.

send your Spirit upon us,

that we may be your body on earth,

loving, caring and serving in the world.

Through Christ and with Christ and in Christ,

in the grace and unity of the Holy Spirit,

to you, O God, be all honor and glory,

now and forever.  AMEN.”

 

And after a few more laughs about leaving my papers at home, I thanked Kathy and just as instantly as her voice had appeared, her voice was now gone and the car fell silent.

All of this, I have learned, it because of Bluetooth technology.

But that is an aside.

In today’s Gospel, we overhear the voice of Jesus, praying to His Father for his disciples.    He gives thanks for giving the blessing of these people during his earthly pilgrimage.  The plan for Jesus to live out the nature and character of God in human form among human beings has been completed.  Jesus has seen this earthly ministry through to the end. 

Now the disciples overhear him speaking of their need to do the same—to follow the call given to them as His followers.  Just as Jesus was faithful to the mission given to Him from the Father, so are the disciples asked to trust in the mission given to them by Jesus.  This does not mean that it will be easy; it requires a willingness to trust that God will watch over and protect, guide and sustain them.  We know that after hearing this prayer, even after losing sight of Jesus, they were able to recall His prayer on their behalf and gather the courage to believe in His promises.  This is what sustained them for their ministry and mission on earth as God’s agents, disciples—people with purpose and passion.

Today as we celebrate being agents of God here and now in the Twenty-First century, the call to us is no less than it was for the early disciples.  God promises to be with us, to watch over and protect us; to enliven us and send us forth with agency and urgency as God’s people.  The prayer we hear in John’s Gospel is for us, too—and as we lean into that promise of God’s abiding care, we grow in courage.  It is overhearing the prayer of Jesus that gives us the audacity to say ‘yes’ to the call. 

Listen to a prayer written by Walter Brueggemann:

You are the God who makes extravagant promises.

We relish your great promises

              Of fidelity and presence and solidarity, and we exude in them.

Only to find out, always too late,

              That your promise always comes

              In the midst of a hard, deep call to obedience.

You are the God who calls people like us,

              And the long list of mothers and fathers before us,

              Who trusted the promise enough to keep the call.

So we give you thanks that you are a calling God,

              Who calls always to dangerous new places.

We pray enough of your grace and mercy among us

              That we may be among those

              Who believe your promises enough

              To respond to your call.

We pray in the one who embodied your promise

              And enacted your call, even Jesus.  AMEN.