The Reverend Mary Bea Sullivan Final Sermon as Interim Rector  - January 30, 2022

“Making Christ’s Transforming Love Known”

Ok, let’s face it—we have been through it! When I submitted my final interim rector report to the vestry last week, a report you will receive via email tomorrow, I wrote a brief overview of the background, the undercurrent, of what has been going on in the parish and the world since your former rector, Glenda Curry was elected the 14th bishop of Alabama. That summary mentions that I had signed a letter of agreement to serve as your interim rector just days before Covid-19 would be deemed a worldwide pandemic. In addition to the pandemic, in these past 19 months, we have experienced the political divisiveness of a contested election, the breaching of the Capital, and racial strife fueled by the killing of George Floyd and others. All of this happening while this community was doing the hard, important work of preparing to transition to a new rector. When I concluded the overview, one of the vestry members jokingly said, “I think you left out the murder hornets.”

We have been through it—TOGETHER. We faced countless unanticipated challenges, our time together has been entirely under the limitations and frustrations and pain and constant changes of a pandemic. I give thanks to God that God’s grace and mercy has carried us. You, my friends, are a remarkable community. I am listening to an audiobook by historian Doris Kearns Goodwin called “No Ordinary Time.” It is an account of the lives of FDR and Eleanor Roosevelt during another turbulent time. It was news to me, that FDR was not afflicted with polio as a child, but at the age of 39. His political career was already skyrocketing. A vibrant athlete, one day FDR went swimming at a family home in Canada and became so fatigued he couldn’t take off his swim trunks, within days, he was paralyzed from the waist down. He fought tirelessly to regain the ability to walk. Goodwin writes, “He was permanently crippled. Yet the paralysis that crippled his body expanded his mind and his sensibilities. After what Eleanor called his trial by fire, 1 he seemed less arrogant, less smug, less superficial, more focused, more complex, more interesting.” When “Eleanor was asked how his illness had affected him, (she responded), ‘Anyone who has gone through great suffering is bound to have a greater sympathy and understanding of the problems of mankind.’” 1 With all due respect, I take issue with Mrs. Roosevelt’s observation—Yes, we can come to the other side of great suffering with greater understanding—but that is not a given, It is a choice— A choice to be broken open with compassion or to become brittle with bitterness.

As Richard Rohr says, “We can transform our pain, or we can transmit it." It is a choice to love. That choice begins with following in the way of Jesus. Like him, we are to receive and believe in our own belovedness. Imagine that dove of the Spirit resting above each of our heads— you are my beloved in whom I am well pleased. Imagine that voice when these three children of this parish come forward to be baptized. Maddie, you are my beloved Oliver, you are my beloved Abigail, you are my beloved And blessed be they, baptized into the body of Christ into this community, All Saints because you know how to love. There are many ways you have shown Christ’s transforming love in these past 19 months. I am grateful to the staff and the vestry for their tireless work. It is amazing to me that in the time of the Great Resignation—- all of your full-time staff is still here. This is a stellar, gifted, dedicated staff. I am grateful to ALL OF YOU for your perseverance, creativity, support, rooted in your LOVE of Christ and one another. You are patient, kind, and all of those other things on St. Paul’s laundry list of love. Yes, love incorporates feelings, and love is a verb. You have responded to the great suffering borne of this time with hearts broken open in compassion— starting Care Teams and Meal Teams; Doris Kearns Goodwin, “No Ordinary Time” (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1994), 16. 1 2 taking meals to hospital workers and teachers, increasing outreach funding by X%, transforming this nave into a television studio to keep those sheltering at home included.

Risking hard conversations about race in classes like “Jesus and the Disinherited” and the Sacred Ground Curriculum. Despite the shifting sands and the many challenges at home and work, you took seriously the need to pause and reflect on who you are as a community, and your hopes for the next chapter at All Saints. You met in small groups on zoom, giving feedback so that an excellent parish profile could be created. All Saints bears all things, hopes all things, believes all things. I am honored to have been here to witness the goodness of your love. But, that is just who All Saints is isn’t it? Long before any pandemic, there were other adversities—wars, fires, embezzlements. How does a community thrive and grow in those situations? Transforming pain, that’s how. And sometimes that means choosing forgiveness; choosing to be in community and listen to others who are different than us. I want to take just a minute and give you some context for Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. Corinth was a shipping town filled with people of diverse means and from diverse cultures. The Christian Church in Corinth was a contentious community in chaos. Paul implores them to remember—there is nothing you can do that is good— there is no great act of service, no generous offering, nothing——unless it comes from a place of love. At its core, love begins with concerning ourselves with the needs of others.

The founding mothers and fathers of All Saints knew that. Those that created your mission statement “Making Christ’s transforming love known in the world.” they knew that. Have we always lived into this mission statement perfectly in the past nineteen months? Heck no!’ Have I been perfect? No Has the staff? No The greater parish? NO That’s why Jesus’ teachings and examples of forgiveness are vital to healthy community. Even in our imperfections we are loved and carried by the undercurrent of a stream which was flowing long before I arrived, or Glenda, or even Bill King, 3 this stream flows from the living water, at times peaceful, and others turbulent. This stream will flow during Brad’s tenure here as well. This Living Water draws from an infinite source. All Saints is one stream of a deep flowing river that includes other streams like Trinity and Dawson and OLS across the street; The Cathedral Church of the Advent downtown, little white churches in New England covered in snow, and adobe structures in New Mexico; This river has streams from Eastern Orthodox Churches in Ukraine and Russian Orthodox Churches in Moscow. All drawing our source from the living water of Christ’s transforming love. When we look at it that way we might feel insignificant. But that would be inaccurate— because Jesus came to live among us to reveal God’s love and glory…He met the woman at the well and as her heart was transformed—so was that of her whole village. Jesus meets each one of us where are, to remind us—do the work—transform your pain and you will transform the world. We are about to reaffirm our faith in the revolutionary promises of our baptismal covenant. Linger on those vows—this job description of loving community. These are not easy promises when taken seriously, they can cause us to risk false peace for the sake of justice; they can cause us to welcome strangers who make us uncomfortable, these vows can cause us to break our hearts open with compassion.

Soon we will pour water over these beautiful children. We will welcome them into the family—into the worldwide Body of Christ. Forever connected. You graciously welcomed Malcolm and Brendan and Kiki and Beau and Grace and me 19 months ago, in a few weeks you will welcome Brad, Elizabeth, Hattie, Noah, and Rowan. We have been praying for God to guide you in calling a faithful pastor and we give thanks to God this prayer has been fulfilled. Brad has always been a part of this family, until now, he’s just been swimming in different streams. We will forever be connected as well, even though my time of physically working with you here is ending. All of us will continue to be sustained by the Living Water to make Christ’s transforming love known in the world—wherever that takes us. Amen