Sermon: "The Lord Is There"
The Right Reverend Charles G. vonRosenberg
Third Bishop of East Tennessee

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

The stories of parishes often are told in terms of who the rector was at any certain time. Thus, since I have been bishop, I have heard about events that happened at St. Andrew's, "when Gene Haws was rector" or "when Allen Cooke was rector." And thus, as the tenure of your current rector draws to a close, there emerges an understandable uncertainty about what the future will bring and about the stories yet to be told.

This moment in time provides the opportunity to give thanks for Martha Sterne and for her ten years as rector here … and for the many stories that can be told about this time. In fact, I understand that there have already occurred several occasions of story-telling and partying! Thus, this moment offers the chance to remember and to give thanks for what has happened in the past … and to anticipate and to begin to experience the future as well. As we remember the past and anticipate the future, we live in the present … and the present moment always represents a kind of intersection in time. Therefore, I commend to you - the people of St. Andrew's - this opportunity to celebrate the past, to live into the present, and to anticipate the future.

In this regard, I also commend your attention to our Gospel reading today, a timely account describing another moment in time whose past and future seemed quite real in the intersection of the present. This reading offers us a chance to engage the post-resurrection life of Jesus and that of his disciples in a particular setting. After all, the present moment for the disciples in their day seemed to be quite a dangerous intersection indeed - involving, as it did, both the past and the future in vivid and challenging ways.

In the past, the disciples had grown accustomed to having Jesus around. He was their source of direction, of support, and of strength. But now - after Good Friday and Easter - he was gone. What would they do? Where would they go? What would the future look like? The disciples felt lost as they anticipated the unfamiliar. They were overwhelmed by new demands and by uncertain expectations. The world was closing in, and there seemed to be no room to breathe in this new place that they themselves had not even chosen to visit.

Several of them gathered together. They were puzzled at the complexity of the present world and the threats represented by the future. They were lost in a new, unfamiliar, unfriendly situation. They were scared. And, as they stood there - huddled against the world - Simon Peter made a rather surprising statement: "I am going fishing." And the others replied, "We will go with you." You see, their place of retreat and escape from the dangerous intersection of the present was a boat. They longed for something familiar and safe.

Remember that these were men who had been fishing before. In fact, they had left their nets and their boats and their fisherman father to follow Jesus three years earlier. And so, they were returning to the familiar. They were choosing to go back to circumstances and situations that were known to them, in the midst of a world that had become unknown. They went fishing.

Our Gospel reading affirms, therefore, the security and comfort of the familiar as we experience an unfamiliar world. I have known that reaction and experience. I suspect that you have known it, too, as have many others through the years at St. Andrew's. And the disciples share such a reaction and experience as well.

But the Gospel reading tells us more - much more - than a simple affirmation of this human reaction to an unfamiliar world … the moment of the intersection of past and future in an often-uncertain present. The Gospel says that Jesus himself seeks us out in those times and places that are comfortable and familiar to us.

Thus, as the disciples were fishing, they encountered the risen Lord. Later, when they cooked a meal on the beach, Jesus was with them. In doing the familiar things of life - those things that are comfortable and secure - it is precisely there that we may find Jesus.

In our collect today, we prayed, "O God, whose blessed Son made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread: Open the eyes of our faith, that we may behold him in all his redeeming work." And those eyes of faith need to be open in our everyday lives … as the past and the future intersect at the point of the present day.

There was a time in my own life - in college - when I wandered away from participation in church activities of any kind. Worship itself seemed inappropriate and irrelevant to the great concerns of the world … and, to me. It represented something from my past that did not seem relevant in the present or for the future. That attitude lasted several years. And then, I began to sense a growing loneliness and a feeling of being adrift in unfamiliar waters. I had lost my way.

After months of dealing with those unfamiliar waters and of following charts that did not lead me to safe and secure ports, I decided to go to church one Sunday morning. And I found the Lord there … or, more accurately, the Lord found me.

Now, this particular church really is not very impressive. The rector at that time was not someone I agreed with about much at all - certainly not about the social issues of that day, which raised conflicts in the church. But in that place on Sunday morning, there was a sense of safety and security and familiarity for me. And the Lord was there.

Since then, I have had wonderfully powerful moments of spiritual insight … mountaintop experiences of profound significance. Those special moments of wonder and of awe provide significant landmarks on my journey of faith. I am thankful for them all. But no spiritual experience has ever been more important to me than the sense of coming home to that familiar place of safety and security. The Lord was indeed there, waiting for me.

I wonder how many people have found the Lord - or, been found by him - here at St. Andrew's through the years. We give thanks for their journeys of faith, even in this time that we anticipate transition to an uncertain future.

Jesus "made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread." And he makes himself known to us at such times, too. Not just the breaking of communion bread at the altar - but also at other holy moments of communion, like at a family dinner table and in telling stories in a parish hall. May we never underestimate the power of safe and secure familiar times with family and with friends. The Lord himself is there.

Some of you today will present a candidate for baptism. Others of you have made the decision to affirm your baptismal faith in public ways, through confirmation. You are saying, in effect, "This is home for me. I meet the Lord here." I welcome you. In this place and with these people, may the Lord always be present.

The Lord has been present in celebration, in crisis, in happiness, and in turmoil during the history of St. Andrew's. And the Lord also has been here in the familiar, everyday lives of everyday people, for many, many years. In this present moment, we also have good reason to anticipate that the Lord will be known to us and to many others in the years to come.

The Lord chooses to be with us in familiar life experiences, as well as in the unknown; in those times and places of safety and security, as well as in the moments of crisis; and in the very center of our lives, as well as on the edges. Pray that we may have eyes to see Jesus at all times in our lives; and pray, therefore, that we may not overlook our Lord in the midst of people and places that we know best, as well as in people and places that are unknown to us in the present.

For the presence of Christ following his resurrection, for the companionship of our Lord in the familiar places of life, for the history of God working with the people of St. Andrew's, and for the assurance that Christ will be known to us always in the breaking of bread, thanks be to God! Amen.

Copyright © 2007 The Episcopal Diocese of East Tennessee