Matthew 9:35-10:8(9-23)
Yesterday the Church welcomed the 7th Bishop of Southwestern Virginia, the Right Reverend Karin MacPhail, into the historic episcopate. Of course 7 is an auspicious number, but another number was mentioned several times during the service. Bishop Karin is the one thousand one hundred and seventy eighth bishop in the American apostolic succession. The apostolic succession is an important part of our history and our identity as a branch of the Anglican Communion. It means that from every new bishop that is consecrated in our church, we can trace the lineage of our church through the hands that were lain on them, all the way back to Samuel Seabury, the first bishop of The Episcopal Church in the newly formed United States. But Samuel Seabury did not proclaim himself a bishop. He was elected from among the clergy, and sent to Scotland to receive the laying on of hands by bishops in the Scottish Episcopal Church. Those bishops could trace their own lineage back to the Church of England, whose bishops could trace their lineage back to the Roman Catholic Church, whose bishops trace their lineage back to the Apostles of Jesus Christ. It is our own form of the long lists of names throughout the Old Testament that often get skipped over because there are only so many times one can see the word “begat” without one’s eyes crossing. We have retained this particular list so carefully, and tracked it for so long, that our own Bishop Karin can trace the hands that pressed down on her head yesterday all the way back to the people who were commissioned by Jesus in today’s Gospel passage. She told me after the service that there was a good deal of weight, of force, of heaviness in the hands that laid on her head and on her shoulders during the prayer of consecration. With the history behind this practice, I can see why. It was the entire family tree of apostles that rested on her in that moment. Very soon, she will begin to lay her own hands on the heads of Christians confirming or renewing their faith. I wonder if her hands will feel a bit heavier now than they did before.
You may be wondering why I’ve gone off on this tangential history lesson, but I promise I have a point. The lectionary this morning gives us the story of the moment Jesus’s friends transitioned from disciples to apostles. Although they remained disciples, students of Jesus, for their entire lives as we are all called to do, in this moment Jesus sends them out to cast out unclean spirits and cure illnesses and proclaim the good news that the kingdom of heaven has come near. This sending is the moment of transformation, of commissioning. An apostle, as the word was used before it became a capitalized title in the Church, is someone who is sent. Sent on a journey, sent on a mission, sent with a specific goal or task or burden. The word could also be translated as envoy, or ambassador. An apostle is someone who goes with a purpose on behalf of someone else, a representative and a messenger. But when Jesus sends his apostles out, he makes them more than just messengers repeating a memorized declaration. They are ambassadors of the kingdom of heaven. The people are harassed and helpless, sheep without a shepherd. The harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. To be an apostle of Christ is to labor, to shepherd, and to proclaim.
In most churches that have bishops, like ours, they carry a crozier. This ceremonial staff is modeled off the traditional shepherd’s staff, often with a curved or hooked end. It is modeled after the same rod and staff that comfort us in the 23rd Psalm, tools to guide the flock and also to protect the sheep from predators. Yesterday, Bishop Karin received the historic Diocesan crozier, a beautiful staff with an intricate silver engraved hook. But the crozier she has chosen for her own, the one she will carry with her on parish visits and will remain close by as she does the everyday work of a bishop, is simple, made of carved wood, with a cross and a dogwood flower carved into the shepherd’s hook. A reminder of the call to shepherd, on behalf of our Good Shepherd, who has sent her as a laborer into a plentiful harvest.
Jesus knew the magnitude of what he was asking of his friends when he commissioned them apostles. He knew that there would be danger, and the powers that be would feel threatened, and some people would not be receptive to the message. Like sheep in the midst of wolves, he called them. He sent them without any arrangements for lodging, reliant on the hospitality of strangers. He sent them without money and forbade them from receiving any payment for their labor. He told them that when they were not welcomed, when their words fell on stopped-up ears and hard hearts, to shake it off and move on. As a pastor and preacher, I can imagine that was easier said than done.
It is to this weary band of emissaries, with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the words of Jesus, that we trace our lineage. Anyone confirmed or received by the laying on of a bishop’s hands in our church has been touched by the hands of an apostle, the descendent of apostles. Anyone baptized into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ in the name of the Trinity has received the same commissioning as the twelve; go and proclaim the good news. Every time we are dismissed from this place, we are being sent as ambassadors of the kingdom of heaven.
I trust and believe that God was at work in the calling, election, and consecration of our bishop, just as God was at work in the apostles even before Jesus first called their names. As a priest in the Episcopal church, I have chosen a faith community that puts great trust and responsibility in its bishops, knowing full well that they are as human as the rest of us. And I don’t believe they are the only ones called to be apostles, any more than I believe only priests are called to be evangelists. We are all called to the plentiful harvest, laborers together under the guidance and loving protection of our good shepherd. It is not an easy calling, and we may not feel fully equipped. But Jesus promises that we don’t always need to have the right words, because the Spirit of God will speak through us when the time comes. We don’t need wealth, or fancy clothes, or even a place to lay our heads. The one who sends us will provide for us, just as he provided for the twelve and for all of their spiritual descendants since. That includes our bishop Karin, and it includes us too. It is an incredible and ancient family we are a part of, and we all share a common commission. Go and proclaim the good news. The kingdom of heaven has come near. Amen.
Mother A Writes 