Sermon: "At the Center of Being"
The Right Reverend Charles G. vonRosenberg
Third Bishop of East Tennessee

[This sermon by Bishop vonRosenberg was delivered using the following notes.]

At the core of our being lies a deep and well-hidden reality - the reality of who we truly are. Some would say that this, in part, is the image of God within each one of us, and indeed, I would agree. However, by whatever name, that truth of being and identity is something we know intuitively. Indeed, we know it as no one else can. Yet, we hide that truth from the world - almost desperately sometimes - under layer upon layer of protective defense and of mask. Like Adam and Eve, we hide ourselves in the garden of our lives.

I know that there are many times that I worry that people will find me out - how unprepared I am or how inadequate I feel or how unable I am to do what others want me to do. Do you ever feel that way - in your job, in school, as a parent or grandparent, in relationships with family members or social friends? I suspect that such reactions to life's challenges are fairly common. Therefore, we spend much time and effort constructing layers around the central revealing truth of our identity.

In contrast, isn't it interesting that Jesus spent much of his life attempting to show people who he truly was … to break down those walls which hide identity … to be self-revealing? Quite the opposite of what we do most of the time. Further, isn't it fascinating that the people who encounter Jesus seem to want to replace those walls that he seeks to tear down?

St. Luke places today's story at an interesting point in his Gospel account - a very important point indeed. Jesus is about to begin his journey to Jerusalem … his journey to the cross and to death … a journey that he must travel alone, in a real sense. Imagine what that must have been like for Jesus - that realization about the destination of his journey … the awareness that his path would lead to the cross … the sense of eventual total forsakenness, even by God. Not a very attractive prospect, is it?

The feelings of loneliness and of isolation must have oppressed Jesus as he anticipated what lay ahead for him. In response to that growing, oppressive loneliness, he must have wanted his close friends truly to know him … to realize who he was and to appreciate why he had to do what he would do.

And so, in his sense of lonely isolation, Jesus asks those close friends, "Who do the crowds say that I am?" The disciples answer with explanations that they have heard: "John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets has arisen." We can almost feel Jesus' disappointment at those responses indicating mistaken identity.

The real point and desire of Jesus' questioning comes next. He stares at his close friends, and almost pleadingly, he asks, "But who do you say that I am?" Can you break through the layers that have been built around me and the masks that have been held in front of my face? And then, can you truly see me?

We, too, desire to be known and to be understood at a very deep level. However, usually that desire loses out to our own need for security … our self-defenses … our walls and our masks. It is a scary thought to imagine asking Jesus' question of our close friends. How might they respond if we asked, "Who do you say that I am?"

Usually we dare to lower our masks only at moments of crisis or tragedy. Perhaps those moments have the effect of breaking down our protective walls. Maybe the walls just do not seem very important when we face the big issues of life. But those difficult times usually are the only ones in which we allow our true selves to be seen.

I suggest to you that moments like Confirmation and the Renewal of our Baptismal Covenant have everything to do with our true identity … with who we really are. Yet, usually we hide this reality.

Like Jesus, we may want to be known, almost desperately. Perhaps facing crisis makes this desire more pressing or, simply, more acceptable.

On the other hand, moments of breakdown in defense can come quite unexpectedly, at surprisingly commonplace times … perhaps times like this morning. In fact, attacks to our defenses may sneak up on us and catch us by surprise.

I remember one such time that a special connection with my life's true center happened at an unexpected moment. Believe it or not, it happened while I was attending a clergy conference years ago. Since there were so many clergy types present, I had the opportunity to sit in the congregation during our worship service. After receiving the bread and wine of communion, I returned to my pew and knelt in silence. I remember my prayer very clearly. I gave thanks to God for the strength conveyed by our Lord's body and blood. And I went on by praying that such strength would enable me to do a particular task better … and that certain job … and that other responsibility, too.

You see, my barriers - my walls - include the demands of my activities and a sense of accomplishment and my own competence in doing a job. And so, my prayer that day was that the Holy Communion would help me do my job better - or, put another way, to construct thicker walls around my true self.

However, in the quietness of that moment, like a voice had spoken to me, suddenly I realized that the Eucharist is not a means to an end. Rather, it is a free gift - complete of itself. It is given to me because I need it - not so that I can do something else. The body and blood of Christ mean life to me. I need that at a deep, deep level of being. And it comes as a gift. No strings attached, no expectations - simply a gift to that inner person who I really am.

I felt my walls crumble a bit that day. I knew that I was known. And though it was a scary experience in a sense, I knew also that true communion had happened. I stood face to face with the Other - with God - without walls, without masks. And, I also knew that I was accepted and loved.

May we therefore truly hear Jesus' question today - a question that bears a pleading quality to it: "Who do you say that I am?" May we look carefully at Jesus and identify him and his reality for our lives. And may that examination give us the courage to expose the image of God within us, and to be real. Amen.

Copyright © 2004 The Episcopal Diocese of East Tennessee