Imitators of the Lord - A Homily for Proper 29, Year A, 2020

Homily for the 20^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 29) Year A, 2020
Sunday, October 18, 2020
Trinity Church, Aurora & St. Stephen’s, Maple
The Rev. Daniel F. Graves
Text: 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
 
“And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for in spite of persecution you received the word with joy inspired by the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all believers in Macedonia and Achaia.” 1 Thessalonians 1:6-7
 
I’m trying to get my mind around the upcoming winter.  We have now firmly entered the second wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, as of tomorrow, we will once again be under further public health restrictions here in York Region, and the golf season is wrapping up.  This may seem trite, but after I had to give up ballroom dancing for the pandemic, at least during the summer months I had the consolation of golf!  But now, as the long dark months are before us, without an end of the pandemic in sight, with further restrictions being imposed, I worry how difficult the months ahead will be.  Not being able to dance or play golf is certainly a first-world problem, but when the things we take for granted are taken away our ability to cope with the unexpected is challenged.  On a more serious note, I worry for our frontline health workers who are already emotionally and physically stretched to the limit.  I worry about our young people with precarious employment of the sort that often leaves them more exposed in their workplaces to the possibility of contracting COVID.  I worry about our seniors in residences who are very much at risk and who may, once again, face a long period of not being able to see family and loved ones in person. I worry about those in low-income, high risk communities who simply to not have the resources do take time away from work to self-isolate or supervise their children’s at-home learning. I worry about our teachers and our students, who risk exposure every day.  It looks like we have a long and daunting winter ahead of us.
 
Around the dinner table the other night, I pondered out loud if we will be any more prepared for the third wave in February.  My wife and daughter looked up and me and gasped, “wait, there’s a third wave?”  “Well,” I said, “if the Spanish flu is any precedent, a third wave came in February. I don’t see any reason that we shouldn’t experience the same thing, given the expert handling of this pandemic.” 
 
Now, you are probably thinking, “where does this guy get off? He’s a priest. He’s supposed to be inspiring us with hope, not despair!”  You would be right about that.  It’s not my job to make you feel worse about the world, worse about yourselves, worse about the future. Neither is it my job, however, to lie to you about the current state of affairs. When St.Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, he wrote into a moment of crisis.  He spoke to them as they were experiencing a certain anxiety.  This is the case with most of Paul’s letters.  He wrote to them with words of hope, but he did not sweep away the suffering, crisis, or trauma of the moment.  Paul addresses the suffering of the people head on and he does not shy away from placing his own suffering on the table, as well.  The first letter of Paul to the Thessalonians is a fine example of a text we would say is written with an apocalyptic mindset.  The word apocalypse simply means a revealing or revelation.  The apocalyptic writer pulls back the curtain on the present suffering of the age and reveals a hopeful vision of a just and merciful God whose power and love transform and transcend the suffering of the present moment. 
 
What are such visions meant to elicit though?  The apocalyptic imagination deals in fantastic imagery and symbolic representations befitting the climax of Marvel movie, and sometimes we can lose sight of the message.  And what is that message? Perhaps St. Paul’s says it best in the eighth chapter of his letter to the Romans: “I consider the sufferings of the present age nothing compared to the glory that is about to be revealed.” 
 
We are always in the moment in which God’s glory is about to be revealed.  The question for us a modern-day Christians is can we catch a glimpse of that glory, and more importantly, can we reflect that glory into a broken and hurting world in the midst of crisis and trauma?  Can we take part in an unveiling of the divine, a revelation that does not deny the suffering of the age but seeks to acknowledge it and transform it for the sake of the Kingdom of God.  Can we dare be partners with God in living out a vision of a transformed, renewed creation and world?
 
Christianity seems to have a bad name when it comes to offering hope. The form of Christianity that has become so wrapped up in political discourse about particular moral and ethical questions has drawn us far from revealing the glory of God and done much to expose the underbelly of our so-called faith.  In times of crisis, what is it that Christians can do to pull back the veil, to reveal God’s hope and love, to proclaim his justice? Is there a better, deeper, more profound form of moral and ethical living that Paul envisions?
 
St. Paul’s prescription is really quite simple.  He reminds the Thessalonians of their fundamental baptismal identity, of who they already are, in order that he might elict from them what they are capable of:
 

“And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for in spite of persecution you received the word with joy inspired by the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all believers in Macedonia and Achaia.”

 

To be imitators of Christ is not to police the morality of others, nor is to engage in some “power of positive thinking” mantra. Rather, from the centre of crisis, in the midst of trauma and suffering, to hold fast to our identity as children of God, as those marked as Christ’s own, as having life even though we die. Yes, the present age involves suffering, our Lord himself experienced suffering.  Suffering, crisis and trauma will always be a part of the world in which we live, but even in that suffering we can proclaim the God of faith, hope, and love who saves us day-by-day from the darkness of despair and brings us into his glorious light.  And more than that, we can become imitators of him, who though he suffered shamefully, shone the light of love on all people and offered a way of hope through faith. These three virtues, faith, hope and love, so frequently and repeatedly proclaimed by Paul, are gifts from God.  But not only are they gifts they are a way of living.  And so the question is not so much how shall we escape the wrath to come, but who shall we be in uncertainty of the present moment? If we have been given these gifts, this faith, this hope, and this love, they are ours to nurture by habit, and share with generosity. I can think of no better time to nurture these blessed gifts and share them with others than in the suffering of moment we face today.