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Pentecost 6, Proper 10 Lesson: 2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
July 12, 2009 Psalm 24
The Rev. Raymond Gotko Epistle: Ephesians 1:3-14
St. James’ Church, Marietta Holy Gospel: Mark 6:14-29
(This is a true story.) There once was a priest who had accepted a call to a small parish. He was warmly welcomed, and over the course of several weeks heard stories about former rectors and the history of the parish. It had always been small, and because of its size in the span of two or three years the parish usually welcomed and said good bye to a rector. (It was a starter parish.) This revolving door of rectors had made the parish rather self-reliant. They did not depend on clergy. Parishioners owned specific authorities, sometimes for generations. For example, the Treasurer was the son of a treasurer, who was also a son of a treasurer. In such a parish, change is a four-letter word.
Two weeks went by and the new rector had not yet met the head of the Altar Guild, Mrs. Miller. It was summer; Episcopalians often take a vacation from church in the summer so he was not terribly alarmed. However, there were some changes that he really wanted about the way the Altar Guild prepared for Sunday Eucharist. He knew that he must establish a good relationship with the head of the Altar Guild to have any chance of making the changes.
A month went by. Every time he asked about why certain practices of the Altar Guild were done, he received the same reply: “Mrs. Miller told us to do it that way and she is very particular.” Another two weeks past and still Mrs. Miller, the head of the Altar Guild, had not attended church. The rector was concerned. She obviously had ruled with great authority for years. He needed some changes and he knew that the church rule of change is this: no relationship means no change; unless, of course, you want to die in a ditch, so to speak. One must choose one’s ditches carefully. Clergy only have three ditches in which to die before they are thrown into outer darkness.
So, in a casual conversation with an Altar Guild member, he asked, “When do you think I will get a chance to meet Mrs. Miller? It would be very helpful I f we could meet soon Does she live nearby?”
The Altar Guild member replied, “Oh, Mrs. Miller has been dead for fifteen years.”
Mrs. Miller may have been dead for fifteen years, but her ghost was alive, well, and active in the parish, and ruled the Altar Guild with a ghostly iron hand.
The rector called a meeting of the Altar Guild ladies (they were all female), and said that he had a conversation with Mrs. Miller and it was okay to make some changes. They all laughed loudly, and together they set to work to make some needed changes made necessary by time, place, personality and hospitality. They laughed about Mrs. Miller for months to come.
Mrs. Miller’s ghost had haunted that parish for fifteen years. She was a fine ghost and intended no malice. Her service had been admirable. She had trained the Altar Guild to be reverent, attentive to detail, and responsible in every way. But her time was not their time. She no longer was head of the Altar Guild. They honored her service and moved on to new times.
Ghosts are both helpful and detrimental. King David, ruler of Israel in the 8th century BCE, is the ultimate model of kingship in Israel. In my estimation, he continues to haunt the meetings of the parliament of Israel, the Knesset. David was the one who, by his leadership, united the tribes of Israel into a nation and secured for the nation, the land promised to Abraham.
David was charismatic, shrewd, resourceful and creative. He accomplished his goals mostly through violence and cunning; he was a warrior. Ever since, leaders of Israel have been judged by David’s standards, which did not include negotiation, conversation or co-existence. Thus, in recent years, David continues to whisper to some Israeli leadership that war is the proper response – violence, quick and swift response. That strategy worked for David, but it may not be appropriate in present circumstances. Listening to ghosts is a good thing; allowing ghosts to rule may bring disaster. Their time is our time.
There are ghosts at St. James’. Their pictures adorn the passageway to the Parish Hall. Some of us hear their voices weekly. One esteemed ghost whispers that the acolytes should wear polished black leather shoes and white gloves. All male, of course, they ought to ride their bikes to St. James’ on Saturday morning to practice for the Sunday liturgy. That was then, this is now. Few children can ride their bikes to St. James’ much less have a free Saturday morning.
There is a ghost who excelled at pastoral relationships when St. James’ was smaller, when everyone knew each other, and there was only one principle service on Sunday. We hear his voice. The parish has changed. No one can recite the St. James’ membership list today; it changes too frequently. That was then, this is now. From him, we learned a model of pastoral care that we now offer to each other, not leaving pastoral care only to the clergy.
Ghosts continue to tell us that only men should participate in leadership positions in the church. They shout loudly and resist any change. But they are ghosts. That was then, this is now.
Ghosts haunt the Church continually. It is their job. It is our job to listen, nod in respect, and move on. Listen to what they thought was good and true then, looking at the world with fresh eyes, we make our choices.
For churches, there is a truth that needs to be known. One does not have to die to become a ghost. One only has to leave and move on. So if we see a new ghost in the near future, say, “Hello, how are you?” Consider the positive that the ghost has to offer, consider the circumstances now, and move on.
There is only one ghost that should haunt the halls of St. James’ – the Holy Ghost. In my tenure here, that is the ghost to which St. James’ listens. Because the Holy Spirit of God, the Holy Ghost, has St. James’ attention. It is a healthy parish of magnificent people, doing the world of the Spirit – praying together, playing together, and making a difference in the world together. This is the love of God; against that love, there is no law. Amen.
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