Treasure: Old and New
Romans 8:26-39; Matthew 13:31-52
On this 125th Anniversary Sunday at St. James, I want to share some
thoughts about the gospel, about treasure - but I also want to share
some thoughts about this church – a love letter if you will.
There is a Zen story of an old farmer who had worked his crops for many
years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his
neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically.
"Maybe," the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned,
bringing with it three other wild horses. "How wonderful," the
neighbors exclaimed.
"Maybe," replied the old man. The following day, his son tried to
ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg.
The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.
"Maybe," answered the farmer. The day after, military officials
came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the
son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors
congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.
"Maybe," said the farmer.
If treasures were easy to come by, they wouldn’t actually be treasures
would they? The very hiddeness of something, its
difficult-to-attain character, makes it more precious. It takes
time to search, to locate, and to acquire true riches. And when
they are found, we realize that some are very old, some are quite
new. Almost all are unexpected.
I have to wonder what might have been in the minds of those who in 1883
gathered to form a mission of the Episcopal Church know as Trinity
Mission. With services held only once each month and apparently
no regular place for meeting, the handful of early Eureka residents
(one historian counter seven) in the newly formed Diocese of Arkansas
must have viewed Anglican worship as “worth the price.”
In 1887, St. James was organized and was assigned a priest. After
two years in a small chapel on Mountain Street, the congregation moved
into the Cromer school building. Over the next 25 years, the city
and the church grew and in 1913, the church building was formally
consecrated.
Following the trend of population in Eureka Springs with its post-WWI
loss of population, St. James declined over the next 50 years hitting a
low in 1945 with only one recorded service.
It was then that the church began to reconstitute itself and by 1948,
we had a new resident priest and soon had almost 30 communicants.
Growth ensued over the next 15 years but in August, 1962, tragedy
struck in the form of a fire which destroyed the organ and much of the
building. Renovation began shortly thereafter and Easter 1963 saw
the first service in the newly renovated church – the one in which we
sit today.
Thanks to Carolyn Pugh, the history of St. James has been preserved in
a little booklet and made accessible to those who will follow in our
place. Through the 125 year history, the life of St. James has
flowed and ebbed – one can only wonder at the forces that at times led
to growth, at others splits followed by reconciliation, at others,
silence. But, like our family histories, it is who we are, it is
the root from which we sprang, it is our legacy.
What we need to recognize is that in the midst of change, we make
decisions and take actions that are guided by our past, informed by the
pressures of the present, and bear implication for our future. It
is the nature of life itself that change comes, crises develop and
resolve, and time separates the good and the bad. In our
shortsightedness, we often assume the good things that happen will bear
good fruit; the uncomfortable, unpleasant thing, bad fruit.
It is Paul who writes that “all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”
Many years ago, I found the Episcopal Church and found it in such a way
that I felt I had found true worship. I, sad to say, let
contentious conversation among those around me rob me of my joy in that
discovery and I left. Now that sounds like a bad thing but in the
ensuing years of searching, I discovered some things about myself,
including a strongly renewed calling to ministry. A family crisis
– “that’s terrible” – worked through to lead me into AlAnon and the
start of accepting myself as a child of God. What seemed so bad
led to something very good.
It was 1982 I think – I resolved that whatever else, I had to revisit
our old Episcopal Church. At the time they were without a priest,
without any regular pastoral care, and folks were staying away – those
that had not left. “That’s bad.” But because women and men
from the congregation were stepping up to lead Morning Prayer and
worship out of a sense of love and joy rather than duty, the Spirit
(that’s with a big S) spoke to me in a new way – “John, this is where
you belong.”
Most specifically, from that first Sunday, I remember a prayer from the
Prayers of the People for those who suffered with AIDS, for those who
cared for them, and for those who hated them. Here was a church
that could embrace humanity, enfold it – warts and all – into the love
of God and offer living water to heal what was broken.
I don’t think I’ve ever looked back on the decision to return to the
Episcopal Church. For me, it as an essential part of the Kingdom
of God, a treasure of great price. It is at once ancient and
modern - bringing forth from its treasure “what is new and what is old.”
We manage to be as contentious and fragmented as was the early church
when the first council at Jerusalem was convened to deal with issues
threatening to split the church. We sometimes seem to lash at
ourselves but somehow find our way to this table where we invite all to
gather, to share, to partake. We find forgiveness for our own
shortcomings and speak Peace to one another as we also forgive.
And, perhaps most importantly, we then go out into the world “… in
peace to love and serve the Lord.” If we could only grasp the
depths of the meaning of that. Love, mature, genuine, fulfilling
love, is always about the other – not about self. It is
self-giving and serving by its nature. It is not exploiting nor
is it manipulating. And it must flow from a heart at peace with a
sure knowledge that in those things which threaten our inner peace –
those thoughts, fears, self-condemnations, mistrusts - we are more than
conquerors through Christ.
Bishop Larry Benfield, in the Lambeth Journal quotes Brian McLaren when he writes:
He is insistent that young people are not interested in our
internal debates, but instead are looking for someone to respond to the
needs of the world: the crises of hunger and disease, corrupt
governments, greedy corporations, and the place of the marginalized.
We are the responders who carry hope – and action – to a hurting
world. We are called to serve the world in the name of Christ -
to go in his love and with the knowledge of his grace.
This church has served Eureka Springs and the surrounding area for 125
years. Our history reveals treasures from the past, you are our
treasure in the present, and how we use the gifts we have are the
investment in the treasures yet to come. Come; dine; receive the
peace of God in Christ Jesus. Then go; love; serve.
Amen
The Rev. John Dryden BurtonSt. James’ Episcopal
ChurchJuly 27,
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