The Sweet Moments we Share

I experienced two formative community moments long ago, both involving a profound sense of belonging. The first was when I attended the consecration of The Right Reverend Barbara Harris in Boston in 1989. There was, of course, a packed convention center. I don’t think I had ever experienced so large a crowd of Christians before, let along so large a crowd of Episcopalians (Anglicans in the US). The electric moment was the recitation of the Nicene Creed. The whole auditorium full of people standing and reciting together “We believe in one God.” The power of the sense of unity in that opening statement was just the beginning. As we continued, no doubt most of us from memory and conviction, the power of community of belief brought together in this one sentient moment was overwhelming. Of course, the thousands of people present included many who had theological or political axes to grind with the forward-moving call of the Holy Spirit to the Episcopal Church at that moment. But the unity was unquestionable.

The other moment (and it is one of which I am so enamored that I know I’ve written about it here before) was in the closing ceremony of the 1998 Gay Games in Amsterdam. Again thousands were gathered in the Arena, including legions of athletes of course, but also many like me who had come to Amsterdam to participate in this great union of lgbt people over a two week period. And this was the apex, the final ceremony, the celebration of all of the love and sweat and accomplishment of the entire games. I don’t remember the specifics very well, only that at one point a musical group that looked like ABBA strolled onto the lawn in the center of the arena. (I was told at the time it was a group from the local Dutch theater where a review of ABBA songs was running that summer, but they sure looked like ABBA!) The opening chords of “Dancing Queen” began, and it was just like my consecration story, everyone stood at once, and of course, began sort of dancing in place, and with the first words the whole crowd began to sing in unison this amazing anthem of liberation. I remember the glorious smiles on the faces of the people all around me and I remember immediately realizing this was again an experience of memory and conviction—this time of the conviction of being liberated as lgbt people, at last—creating a powerful unity in a diverse community in one sentient moment. Again the unity was unquestionable.

God brings us together in the most fascinating of ways, from near and far, from where we have been scattered, from exile even, and with the immense power of love combining in the union of souls God creates kingdom for us in the sharing of loving memory and conviction and unity.

This is, of course, as true for our various unions of souls—I’m talking relationships here—as it is for crowds. Moments of union spring from simple acquaintance, discovered shared experience pursued over time deepens the sense of togetherness and unity as the love shared together grows and envelops us until we achieve that sweetness of experiencing God’s kingdom together between and among us.

I am powerfully in love just now with the love that God has brought into my life. I am daily unsettled by just how powerful love can be. I am filled with awe as I try to walk this path of love to which God has called me.

In the church today is the Feast of Christ the King. It is the final moment before the beginning of the new church year with the First Sunday of Advent, that sweet, sweet time of preparation for Christmas that begins next Sunday. According to theological tradition the Feast of Christ the King is the annual reminder that God has in Christ led all of humanity back from exile of self to the unity in God’s kingdom of love. The scripture rises along a trajectory beginning with Jeremiah’s prophecy (23: 3) that God “will gather the remnant of [God’s] flock … and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed.” The epistle to the Colossians (1: 12-14) reminds us that God has enabled us to share in the inheritance of the saints …that we are redeemed in the unity that comes from the end of sin. The crucifixion narrative from Luke’s Gospel (23: 43) concludes with Jesus, king even in this most excruciating human moment, bringing everyone with Him into Paradise. The kingdom of Christ is, indeed, the pinnacle of human experience, forged in the trials of life but crowned with glory in the moments of love that we share.

LGBT folks, like other oppressed communities, need to remember that it is in the sweet moments we share, whether sitting by the fireplace or rising in a chorus of “Dancing Queen” that we are brought from our exile into God’s kingdom of love.

“Christ the King” Proper 29 Year C (Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 16 Song of Zechariah; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43)

©2019 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

 

Joy

We’ve been working like proverbial maniacs on our home. We are doing the kinds of little things that make you crazy until they’re done, but on the other hand, are too small to hire anybody to help with. We did just have a friend visit for a week, and he worked pretty hard inside and outside, to get roses planted, weeds cleared, shrubs pruned etc., etc., before the traditional rain started. We just made it, the rain started yesterday. If I remember correctly from college days, it will now rain more or less constantly until April. Or May even. That’s why, of course, the Portland area is so lusciously green.

Inside we were doing a combination of adapting our new house into our home and fixing things the movers broke. We were pretty exhausted. The other day it was hot and sunny so we ran outside to spray paint some metal furniture and both overdid it. I woke up in the night with warm feet, and when I got up I could see my feet were striped (!) from the sun on my sandals.

We even worked late nights several days in a row to rebuild the benchwork for one of my train layouts (the O-gauge toy train layout … the HO-gauge model train layout will have to wait for now).

And then our friend’s visit was over and I drove him to the airport. As we left the house the morning grey began to lift, and after I dropped him off I had a stunning drive back through the trees as the sun intensified. Combined with the magical music on the radio I was brought nearly to tears with the joy not only of being back in a place that I love, but also with the radiance of creation that is so close in this environment. In the house I could see that we had restored a sense of “home,” so important for anybody but very near for folks who have just moved. For both the joy of my sense of the beauty of this environment and the comfort of home I gave thanks, in prayer, out loud even …. To top it all off, my new license plates came in the mail; as one friend put it, now we’re really citizens of Oregon!

We forget how important it is to experience joy. So often we are so busy being busy that we forget to think about simple things, the old “forest for the trees” metaphor. We work and work and work and drive and drive and drive and make lists and make new lists and plan and plan and … whew! we forget to look up at the skyline and give thanks for being, and for being here. We forget that love is that feeling of joy in our souls we experience when we walk into a place that feels like home. When we forget to experience joy we cut ourselves off from love. And when we are cut off from love we are cut off from God.

This is the very essence of “sin”—cutting ourselves off from God. Often we do it by cutting ourselves off from each other. Just as often we simply cut ourselves off altogether.

In 1 Timothy Paul writes that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” But he goes on to say that Christ “might display the utmost patience.” It’s a good thing! But what it means is that God became incarnate in Christ to remind us to pay attention—to pay attention to our inner selves, to pay attention to our place in creation, to pay attention to each other. In these ways we restore our connection to God. Christ’s patience, God’s patience, is visible in those stunning moments when we realize we are right with creation and we give thanks.

Is there a message for lgbt people here? Of course, it is the message of my last few posts—that belonging is nurturing, that being free of the strain of defensive living opens gates of joy, that living fully into our role as created lgbt beings is as close as we can get to unity with God. It is in this perfect unity that love and life can flourish. It is this reunion, this return, this reconnection that Jesus means when says in Luke 15:10 “there is joy in the presence of the angels of God.”

 

Proper 19 (Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28); Psalm 14 Dixit insipiens; 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-10

©2019 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.