THE THIRD SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY 2002

From that time Jesus began to proclaim, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near."" (Matthew 4:17)

During these days between Epiphany and Lent, we are invited to focus our attention on the way in which Jesus the Incarnate Word shared with people the reality of God's presence in their midst and invited people to become God's friends. This was something which was almost unheard of in Israel - God's kingdom, the kingdom of heaven, God had come near, was at the gates, at the doorstep. God was not far off - either in space or in time - but was, in the very person of Jesus, immediate, here, now, accessible, in touch with God's people.

And that present reality - the kingdom come near - invites, no, requires a response from those who would belong to it, those who would become God's friends, even God's children, those who would, to borrow a phrase from a friend of mine, become intimate with the ultimate. Although God had taken the initiative, i.e., it was a matter of God seeking us rather than us seeking God, a response was necessary. God would go no further with us in establishing this friendship without our response. And that response, as Matthew tells us, is repentance - but not, perhaps, in the way we usually think of it.

Let me offer an illustration of what I believe Jesus to have meant. Last Sunday, on what would have been my mother's 85th birthday, President Bush finished his first year in office. A year ago we watched, or at least heard about, the peaceful handing over of authority from William Clinton to George W. Bush. Although this kind of peaceful transition is not unique, we can note in passing that it has been and still is rare, and is, I believe, the envy of many in countries where power is relinquished only at the point of a gun. Putting aside, however, our understandable pride about our political institutions, I want to focus on this transition as an example of repentance.

What all of our Presidential inaugurations have in common with one another, and what they have in common with repentance, is that they are new beginnings and that that usually means new priorities, new programs and new people. Of course, that is more clearly illustrated when there is a change in the party of the President than when the new President is of the same party as the old, but with each inauguration there is a new beginning. Even though we usually don't think of repentance in this way, setting new course, heading in a new direction is the essential quality of repentance. I know that we usually think of it more as a turning away from or giving up of something evil, but that is really only a secondary meaning. While repentance will often involve turning away from something sinful, that is not always true. What is always true is that repentance involves turning towards and embracing that good which God offers us now.

In this morning's Gospel, we see an example of this in the calling of Simon Peter and Andrew and James and John. Although the Gospel does not say it directly, Jesus' call to them was a call to repentance. It wasn't because fishing was sinful that they needed to repent of fishing, far from it. They needed to repent because fishing was not the good that was appropriate for them, the good to which God called them at that moment. Jesus had something else for them to do, something that made it impossible for them to remain at their fishing. The kingdom of heaven had come near and they had a job to do in sharing that good news. Although fishing had been a good thing for them to do up until the moment of Jesus' call, that call changed everything for them and fishing became second best when compared to the new work to which they were being called. They would, we are told, return to their fishing from time to time, but their lives were unalterably changed by that call, they were for the rest of their lives set upon a new course. They could never be simple fishermen again.

For Simon Peter and Andrew and James and John, repentance meant setting their lives in a new direction, following a new way, the way of discipleship, the way of abundant life, the way of the cross. But such a shift does not come easy for most of us. I sense that all of us are at least a little reluctant about setting of in new directions. I know that I am. In October I was invited to serve a parish in another diocese and at least one of the reasons I turned it down was because I didn't think that I was ready to leave Western New York. I suspect that I'll be doing that, reluctantly or otherwise, at some point in the next decade or so, but I wasn't ready when the offer came. To return for a moment to inaugurations, I would venture to guess that every new President has felt some reluctance about taking on his new responsibilities. It would be true to say - but a very unusual way to put it - that George W. Bush had to repent of being Governor of Texas in order to become the President of the United States. There was nothing wrong with being Governor, but he had to put that behind him in order to take this new direction. And if he did that without some feelings of reluctance, even of fear and trepidation, then I would be greatly surprised, and a little worried.

I sense that same kind of reluctance in lots of people, a reluctance to launch out in a new direction. Just as reluctance of that sort played a part in my decision to turn down a job offer, reluctance may be dampening the enthusiasm of some people about moving ahead with the work that needs to be done during the interim period. Whatever role such reluctance may have played or continues to play in our lives, it is understandable - only fools rush in where the wise fear to tread - but such reluctance can be destructive of our Christian life if we allow it to hold us back from taking the new direction to which God is calling us.

Let me share two different examples of repentance, one an example from personal life, the other from the life of this parish. Many of us have been called to the difficult vocation of raising children. Being a faithful and effective parent requires repentance. At many points along the way, we discover, often to our dismay, that the ways we have acted as parents in the past are no longer appropriate. Our children are growing, often, it seems, at an alarming rate, and as they grow we need to change the ways we care for them. Some of us cling to old ways long after they have ceased to be effective, unwilling to discover new ways of being parents. Those moments are times for repentance, for seeing that however effective the old ways were, they are no longer appropriate and that new ways are needed. That kind of repentance, which involves a letting go, a trusting of our children with more and more freedom and responsibility, that kind of repentance is not easy, it often hurts, as many of us can testify. But as hard as it is, it is necessary, for without it we aren't able to grow in our relationships with our children, aren't able to really enjoy watching them grow.

The members of Saint Matthias Church are being given an opportunity, as you move into this interim period. You are being an opportunity to leave the past behind, to leave behind old ways of being a parish and of doing the work of Christ, ways which are no longer appropriate. At the end of the interim period, you will be invited to join your new rector in setting off in a new direction, and that means repentance. This leaving the past behind and setting off in a new direction does not, of course, involve any value judgement about the past. The faithful and effective ministry of Saint Matthias Church, of its clergy and of all of its members, in days past is something for which I am very thankful, but I know that Saint Matthias Church cannot be effective and faithful in ministry in the future without the honest realization that things which worked in the past may not work in the future, that priorities and programs and approaches to ministry which worked in Russell Barker's day or Michael Hartney's may not work in the future. This parish - this diocese - the Episcopal Church - this community - the United States - the world - are all very different from what they were when Fr. Barker became rector or when Fr. Hartney became rector. However appropriate the directions of this parish's ministry were when those two able priests were here, those directions, those ways of engaging in the work of Christ may not - indeed, often will not -be appropriate in the years to come. What I am suggesting is not that all the traditions of this parish community be jettisoned so that you and your new rector can begin with a clean slate; that would be folly. What I am suggesting is that you remain open to God's call to repentance, open to the possibility that God might lead Saint Matthias Church in radically new directions and open to the certainty that at least some of the ways that Saint Matthias Church has worked faithfully and effectively in the past will no longer be appropriate as you and your new rector respond to God's call. In one sense what I am saying is that however natural it may be for us to yearn for a future which is like the good times of the past, there is no going back, no way to return to a remembered golden age. The Biblical images are clear here; the Book Revelation's vision of the end of history is not of a return to the Garden of Eden, but of the establishment of the City of God.

I hope - I pray - that all of us can remain open to God's call to repentance, ready to turn away from the good that was appropriate for yesterday and to embrace the good that is God's gift to us for tomorrow.