Installation of Sam Mason
October 10, 2007
A Sermon by Fr. James Haney V
"We proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake."
It's good to be with you this evening. I'm Jim Haney from Good Shepherd, Wichita, and I was Sam's boss when he was fresh out of seminary. I'm deeply honored to be with you all for this wonderful occasion.
Before going to seminary I taught High School chemistry in the small west Texas town of Lockney. It was a small school, 200 students in four grades. Thus faculty members often wore several hats. In addition to being half of the science department, I was the coach of the debate team and the calculator team. And I also served as one of the school's two drama coaches along with one of our English teachers named Tonda. The drama program at our small school consisted of one play per year, our school's entry into the district's One Act Play competition.
One year, Tonda and I chose a play that required the actors to answer a telephone 3 times. We found an old phone to use as a prop. The only problem was that we couldn't figure out how to do the sound effect of a phone ringing. We tried lots of different things: ringing various bells offstage, using a cassette tape of a real phone, but none of them were really satisfactory. Then one day I took the prop phone and opened it up and saw that it still had its bell inside. With a little bit of work, expanding the gap on the electromagnet, then attaching an old extension cord and a push-button switch, I rigged the old phone so that you could plug it into a standard electrical outlet. Then someone could stand 20 feet away, push the button, and make the phone ring. It was the perfect prop because it had its own sound effect built right in. It was also great for practical jokes, which some of the kids and I pulled around the school. Press the button, the phone would ring; but if you answered it, no one was there. Then it would ring again. It was kind of like our small town version of Candid Camera. We had lots of fun with that phone.
But then we ran into problems with the play. The rules said that any play longer than 40 minutes would be disqualified. It became apparent that our play was going to be too long. So we had to start cutting more and more scenes. We decided to cut one of the scenes with the phone, but I didn't think anything of it. But even after these cuts, the play was still too long. Tonda wanted to cut a scene that was one of the two remaining scenes with the phone. But for some strange reason, I got very defensive. I really dug in my heels. I kept coming up with all kinds of reasons why that scene needed to be kept in the play. Eventually, Tonda got fed up and said through gritted teeth, "Mr. Haney, is the scene really that important to the play, or are you just defending your phone?"
She was exactly right. It wasn't the play I was worrying about. I was just trying to defend my precious phone. I had lost sight of the big picture. I was too focused in on one tiny piece. I was placing my little, narrow agenda before my duty as a director of the play.
Before his conversion, St. Paul was also very good at putting his own agenda first. He was a man who took great pride in his status. He was proud of his pedigree. He was proud of his intellect. He was proud of the hard work he had done. He had climbed the ladder. He was on a higher rung than most others his own age. He was of the tribe of Benjamin; he was a Hebrew of Hebrews. He was blameless under the law. Paul was very good at defending his telephone. But he missed out on what's important to the play. But then Paul had a life-changing experience on the road to Damascus. Paul had an encounter with the living Christ. Paul was baptized in Damascus. Afterwards, he was a changed man. Instead of worrying about his own status, instead of worrying about his own prestige, Paul experienced a change. It was the new Paul who was able to write the words from our Epistle lesson this evening, "It is not ourselves that we proclaim; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants, as your slaves, for Jesus' sake."
Tonight we are gathered in this wonderful, historic building for a Celebration of New Ministry. Ecclesiastical dignitaries abound. And much of our focus is on your new rector, the Rev. Samuel Albert Mason. It is meet and right so to do. And yet, we must be careful. Sam is not the Messiah; Sam is not your savior. This is not Sam's coronation. We're not going to sing, "Crown him with many crowns, Sam Mason the Rector of Trinity." We're not going to sing, "All hail the power of Samuel A., let angels prostrate fall." No, instead we read the words of St. Paul. "It is not ourselves that we proclaim; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants, for Jesus' sake."
This is a celebration of new ministry. But whose ministry is it? Is it Sam's? Well we clergy often talk about "my ministry." But when we do that, when we're so possessive, I'm afraid we're talking about our little phones, and forgetting about the larger play. There is much more tonight to our celebration of ministry than just Sam’s ministry. Thus the prayer book reminds us that other clergy from West Missouri and elsewhere are here tonight "as an expression of the collegiality of the ministry in which they share" with Sam.[1] Later, Bishop Howe will talk to Sam about the ministry that is "mine and yours,"[2] Sam's and the Bishop's in this place. Thus it's bigger than Sam's ministry.
Which brings us to another question. Are we celebrating the ministry of the clergy? Tonight do we celebrate the ministry of the bishop and his priests and deacons? It might be easy to assume that. After all, we're dressed differently. Sam is sitting there wearing a white alb. I've got on a white alb and stole. The other clergy are wearing their white albs or surplices. The bishop is wearing his white alb. So is it all about us? We're standing out in the way we're dressed, after all. Yet, we're standing out because of an accident of ecclesiastical fashions. We're dressing the way that clergy have dressed for thousands of years. But you laity have forgotten the way that you used to dress. In the ancient days of the church, all Christians received a white robe at baptism. All Christians would come to church dressed like this <<indicate alb>>. All of us wear the white robe of baptism. Not everyone may have a robe made out of cloth; some of you may be wearing your invisible white robes tonight. But whether it is visible or invisible, your white robe is still there. These white robes we clergy wear are not about standing out. They're about blending in. They're about shared ministry. Thus, the prayer book reminds us in the catechism that "the ministers of the church are lay persons, bishops, priests, and deacons." Tonight, we're not just celebrating Sam's new ministry in this place, we're not just celebrating the ministry of Bishop Howe or the clergy of West Missouri. We're celebrating the new ministry that will take place with all of the people of God at Trinity Episcopal Church.
But is it really our ministry we're celebrating? Back to the white robes. What do they really represent? These white robes represent out baptisms. Baptisms into what? Into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Thus it's not ultimately about our ministries. It's about us sharing in Jesus' ministry. That's why the catechism reminds us that the ministry of all Christians, laity, bishops, priest, and deacons, is to represent Christ and his church. Literally to RE-present Christ, to carry out Christ's ministry, to act as his body, his hands in the world, to carry out his work and mission. "It is not ourselves that we proclaim; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as servants, for Jesus' sake."
Thus Trinity Episcopal Church is not a cruise ship, with captain and crew dressed in white to cater to your every whim. Trinity is a working freighter, you are all part of the crew, and all hands are needed to carry out the work of ministry. People of Trinity, as you mark a new beginning tonight with Sam as your new rector, you're committing yourselves to sharing in the work of ministry with Sam.
Never forget what kind of ministry it is that you're all called to. You're all called to share in the servant ministry of Jesus Christ. If you forget this, it's all too easy to become territorial. If you forget this, it's all too easy to begin thinking that a particular piece of the church's ministry is your personal property, your own private little fiefdom. If you forget this, you'll set up walls and begin to defend your own specialized areas of ministry. If you do this, you'll fall into the trap of trying to defend your various phones. Instead, remember the play. We all are called to ministry, but none of us has his or her own individual ministry. The ministries we're engaged in don't belong to us. Everyone who is baptized is called to share in Jesus' ministry of servanthood. Territoriality, turf wars, dissensions, factions, those are not from the Holy Spirit. Flee from them. They are like termites eating away at a building. They are like rats scurrying around in the darkness. And we know what rats do. They claw and gnaw, they scratch and bite one another.
Flee from those desires. Flee from that kind of territoriality. Turn your back on the dark scurrying things and turn towards the altar. Flee to it and hold fast to it. Rise above the dark urges to gnaw and claw. Cling to the altar. It is your place of refuge and rest, your safety and security. It is also your place of unity. Gather around the altar together. Gather around the altar with Sam and with each other. It is there you find the very presence of Jesus in your midst. It is there that you will be fed and equipped to carry out Jesus' ministry in the world, in his name, and for his sake. "It is not ourselves that we proclaim; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as servants, for Jesus' sake."
And Sam, as you stand at that altar with these people you will offer the gifts they bring on their behalf. As you lift the chalice you will see your face reflected in it. But you will also see the faces of these people gathered around you. Support them, and let them support you. Minister together with them in the new ministry to which God has called you all. Together, carry out the ministry of Jesus Christ at Trinity Episcopal Church in the Diocese of West Missouri. Sam, they have called you here. God has called you here. Engage in ministry with them. Six years and eleven days ago, a friend of yours spoke some powerful words at your ordination. He couldn't be here this evening, so I'd like to repeat his words again:
"It is time to take your place Sam, God has called you here. So take your place Sam, you've worked hard, sacrificed much, lived into your call… Take your place Sam, as a priest, visit the sick, the lonely, the sad, the newborn, the joyous, take your place… Take your place, stand at the altar with your life ahead of you looking into the lives of the people you are charged to challenge, to teach, to love, take your place. Take your place as a husband, as a father, as a friend, take your place, Sam. Take your place as a priest, God has called you, so take your place Sam."[3]
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Rev. James P. Haney V
Trinity Episcopal Church
Independence, Missouri
October 10, 2007
[3] Sermon by the Rev. Patrick J. Miller, September 30, 2001
