“…I have given them your word…” (John 17:14a)
When you cross the Delaware River over the Tacony/Palmyra Bridge from New Jersey to Philadelphia, you’ll pass under a painted train trestle which reads “Saint Leo’s: the Heart of Tacony.” Indeed, for well over a century this mostly Italian-American Catholic church was the spiritual center of its Northeast Philly neighborhood. The worship space was as gorgeous as any European cathedral, and generations of worshipers and parochial school children spoke their confessions, made their sacraments, married their sweethearts, and buried their loved ones from the chancel of this majestic and imposing house of God. But, alas, as times and neighborhoods changed, the Archdiocese of Philadelphia closed old Leo’s in 2013 and intended to sell off the property. Last Sunday, the 137 year-old building caught fire and burned to the ground. That which the flames didn’t claim was destroyed by a wrecking ball to prevent it from falling on unsuspecting pedestrians.
I watched the news reports about the fire, and I felt badly for the former parishioners who, when interviewed, spoke of such love and nostalgia for old St. Leo’s. At the same time, I couldn’t help but think that nothing lasts forever, and, if 137 years’ worth of sermons have done their job, the people of this parish still have the Word of God and have not been abandoned. After all, it was just a building. As beautiful as St. Leo’s was, I suspect there will be fewer such buildings on the American landscape in the years to come.[i]
In the Gospel reading for Easter 7 Year B in the RCL (John 17:6-19), we find Jesus praying what some scholars call his “High Priestly Prayer.” Jesus tells the Father God that he has given everything to his disciples to equip them for ministry once he is gone, and he asks the Father to grant them safety in their mission. This is a pretty appropriate reading for this Sunday as it follows the Feast of the Ascension celebrated last Thursday.[ii] Forty days after the resurrection (and forty represents not merely a number but is symbolic of “enough time has gone by” in Jewish numerology) Jesus makes his departure, not to return until the end of all time. I bet the disciples probably felt pretty lost without him. After all, it would certainly be swell to have Jesus with us forever. He has a really great track record with disease and bad weather. He could heal people of COVID-19 and end global warming at the same time!
But this doesn’t seem to be God’s plan, does it? Just as Jesus has demonstrated that life is eternal, he splits for who-knows-where and leaves us to fend for ourselves. Supposedly, we’ve been equipped to deal with whatever the world (and by “world” I don’t mean the planet, but the human condition and spirit of our age) throws at us. I guess we’re supposed to end COVID and fix global climate change ourselves. Now, ain’t that a bummer!?
But maybe not. Maybe this bereavement—if you want to call it that—is really the best thing for us. If Jesus was still here physically, I hope he’d still be in charge of his Church (that is, if we didn’t decide that discipleship was too much of a burden and get him executed again!). We’d still be followers, but we wouldn’t be representatives of Christ. By leaving us, Jesus has forced us to deal with our loss and grow up.
Loss of anything is always hard. We don’t like change. We weep when our loved ones die—even though we know that God’s promise is true and we will always have our loved one’s wisdom and kindness in our hearts. But getting used to change might just be the surest sign of maturity—spiritually and otherwise.
If we look around us, we’ll see that the whole face of our culture has changed. I think of my former confirmands, some of whom are graduating from college now and are staring their journeys into the real world. This real world is so different from the one I inhabited at their age. They have never lived in a time when a mass shooting in a school was not a possibility. They have never known a time when terrorists couldn’t kill thousands of Americans in one strike. They have not lived in a world where pandemic was only something in a history book, where upward social mobility was always possible, and where the planet was not poised on the ledge of catastrophe. Life without cell phones and instant internet access is unthinkable to them, and there is no taboo about discussing human sexuality, distrust of law enforcement, or gender inequality. Our old ways of doing and being church may have nothing at all to do with this generation, and a church dedicated to nostalgia will not speak to them.
All the same, we hold on to the Word which has equipped us: God is love, and this love is made perfect in the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. This never changes.
I don’t know what changes will have to be made in the future. Perhaps the Christian church will exist as it once did in small groups meeting in private homes augmented by a presence in cyber space. I couldn’t say. But what I will say is that I think we’re in the same place the apostles found themselves following the Ascension—the place where we find them in the First Lesson (Acts1:15-17, 21-26). We may be confused and uncertain, but Like Peter, we need to put on our big boy pants and make some decisions. Doing anything (like filling a vacancy) might be better than doing nothing at all.
After all, we are sanctified in the Word. Everything else is just stuff.
[i] As
a matter of fact, I have watched over the course of my ministry in Northeast Philadelphia
as eight Lutheran congregations in what was once the Northeast Philadelphia Conference
have shut their doors forever.
[ii]
That is, IF you celebrated it. Historically, this is one of the six principal
festivals of the Church, but my congregation has, for reasons now lost to
antiquity, never observed it. That’s a shame, because it’s a pretty cool
festival. I recently heard that one Lutheran church in my synod celebrates
Ascension by drinking root beer floats. I guess this is a way to imagine Jesus
floating on the clouds like the ice cream floats on the root beer foam. I’d
certainly be up for that!
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