Now to the one who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine – to God be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
Those are words from today’s Epistle, which you may recognize as a benediction in the
Morning Prayer service. We’ll return to that in a bit.
Merrill Bittner. Alla Bozarth-Campbell.
Alison Cheek. Emily Hewitt.
Carter Heyward. Suzanne Hiatt.
Marie Moorefield. Jeanette Piccard.
Betty Schiess. Katrina Swanson. Nancy Wittig.
These may not be familiar names, much less household names, though I hope someday they may be. They are the names of the first eleven women priests in the Episcopal Church. Fifty years ago tomorrow, those women stood in the Church of the Advocate in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and were ordained, in the face of threats, insults and an institutional Church that at the time did not consider the ordination of women to be valid. That didn’t stop them, and that did not stop four more women who were ordained in Washington, D.C. the following September.
The year after that, 1976, the Episcopal Church House of Bishops overturned years of
tradition and opened the way for women to be ordained, just as men had been for centuries. Every woman who preaches in a pulpit and celebrates the Eucharist, every woman who does the day-to-day and Sunday-to-Sunday work of the priest in the 21st century, does so in part because of the courage and faithfulness of those 11 women in Philadelphia and four women in Washington, who followed God’s call in their lives despite the voices of the world that told them no.
Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.
Today’s readings, the Gospel reading especially, hold so much, especially about abundance. we’ll look at that Gospel – it is a Gospel about miracles, about abundance, about what authority is and what authority is not, what power is and what power is not. So, somewhat by chance, it’s an appropriate reading given tomorrow’s anniversary.
Two of the most well-known of Jesus’ miracles happen in this Gospel. The feeding of the five thousand, which is told in all four of the Gospels, and Jesus walking on water, which appears in all the Gospels except John. In the 21st century, miracles like these sound kind of like legends, myths, or maybe scenes from the a Marvel Universe or Lord of the Rings movie – and I will confess, I really love Marvel Universe and Lord of the Rings movies – events that are iconic, dramatic, but are they things that actually happened? Miracles can be hard to believe in this day and age. Theories abound as to how literal or how misunderstood such stories might be, but really, theories about these miracles or how they came to be are beside the point. The miracles of the first
century, and the miracles of the 21st century, however they happened, have something to teach us.
Abundance. Five thousand people have gathered to hear Jesus teach. Perhaps that’s a bit of a miracle in itself, given how little worldly power Jesus possessed. He was not wealthy, he was not a military hero or a monarch, but something in his words and in the way he lived drew people to him, and to the hope he embodied. And on this particular day, the crowd is hungry – hungry for hope, hungry for good news, hungry for a different way of living in the world – and also, literally, hungry.
Jesus and his disciples had not hired a caterer, and this was in the days before pizza delivery – so instead, Jesus creates a feast from the unlikeliest and most humble of sources – a small boy, not rich, not heroic, just a small boy who brought a lunch. Five loaves and two fishes. And Jesus took that small gift and turned it into a feast for everyone. With more than enough left over. Twelve baskets more than enough. Jesus, and a small boy, fed everybody who was on that hillside – not because they had bought tickets, or because they were VIP attendees to his lecture, but because they were there and because they were hungry.
Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.
So let’s look at what comes next in the Gospel.
When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.
When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them.
A storm blows up, and the disciples are terrified. And then in the midst of the storm, Jesus is walking, on the water, toward them. They are terrified still, the Gospel tells us, and Jesus tells them – Do not be afraid. And, in a moment, they, and Jesus, they have left the storm behind, and they are suddenly already at the destination where’s they had been heading. In the twinkling of an eye, they
escape the storm, they reach safe harbor.
Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.
This morning, you’re going to get two Gospels for the price of one – I’m going to borrow a second, part of the lectionary for the feast day of the Philadelphia Eleven. And I think there are connections between that Gospel and today’s Gospel –connections of miracle, and connections of abundance. So here is that Gospel. It’s familiar story.
On the first day of the week, at early dawn, the women who had come with Jesus from Galilee came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.
They did not believe the women.
I’d like to have seen the disciples’ faces a few verses later in that chapter, when, along the road to Emmaus, they met a stranger, talked to him for miles, invited him to dinner, and it wasn’t until he blessed the bread and broke it that they recognized him as their teacher and their friend, Jesus, resurrected from the tomb, until he blessed the bread and broke it for them. “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road?”
The women were right.
This Gospel, too, is a story about miracles, and about abundance, and what authority and power are and are not. The miracle of Christ’s victory over death, the miracle of his empty tomb. The abundance of Christ’s love, his journey through life and death and out the other side for us. The abundance of God’s message, told by unlikely voices, not very powerful, at that time, voices – women’s voices.
God’s power works in the unlikeliest of places and people: a boy with bread and fish. A bunch of former fishermen who panic in a storm. A homeless rabbi who refuses to be king. In Mary, and Mary Magdalene, and Joanna and the others who visit Jesus’s tomb. And, 50 years ago, in eleven women who were told they couldn’t be priests, and refused to accept that, who challenged the expectations of society and the Church. What an abundance of wisdom and courage and hope and miracles has emerged in the Church, century after century, because of the power of God working in the most unlikely of places!
God is a God of miracles, and a God of abundance. However unlikely we may see another – however unlikely we may see ourselves – we always have the assurance that when we pray, God will listen; and if we listen, God will speak. If we offer our hearts, God will love. If we hunger, God will provide. And if we offer ourselves, God will love through us.
Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. Amen.
Sermon by The Rev. Cara Ellen Modisett at Trinity Episcopal Church in Staunton, Virginia, on July 28, 2024. Epistle and Gospel for Feast Day of Philadelphia 11: Galatians 2:23-29, Luke 24:1-11
