The Convocation of Episcopal Churches in Europe

The Cathedral Church of the Holy Trinity, Paris

The Day of Pentecost, 2021

Text: John 15:8: “The Spirit, which is coming, will prove the world wrong
about sin and righteousness and judgment…”

 

You would be forgiven this morning for thinking that the church is suddenly experiencing an adolescent growth spurt. Indeed we are, as you can see from the number of pews we have had to keep you out of to provide enough space for these baptisands and their sponsors.  

These seven people are about to become initiated into the Body of Christ. They are about to become part of us—our brothers and sisters, our fellow ministers and co-workers, our care and concern. 

So it seemed to me that we owe them full disclosure about just what they are signing up for—not just what it means to be a Christian, but what it means to be a part of the church, and especially a part of this church, because there is no such thing as a Christian apart from the church.

Now, all of you are sitting up in front, which makes it hard for you to change your mind at this point, I know. But you should not think that this is all just a one-way benefit for you. Yes, in baptism you receive the gift of new birth. But you also take on the identity of a Christian—of a person willing to be known as a part of this place. 

So maybe we should just make sure you know what that means.

Maybe I should start by making sure you know what we are not. We are not, and we do not claim to be, a group of people in possession of the only religious truth. We believe that something true has been revealed to us about God, something so true that it has changed our lives forever; but we believe that God is far larger than our capacity to claim ownership.

We are not the Catholic Church. When we pray for the catholic church, we do so with a lower-case “c”; we mean the whole church, the universal church, the church to which we are connected in a faith deeper than the differences of denominations. But we are a different church from the church in Rome.

At the same time, we are not quite a Protestant church, either. Just look at us up here. We believe there is something inspired, something that gives us glimpses of the holy, in the traditions we have inherited.  Our spiritual imaginings are inspired by the longings and possibilities of the Bible, but not limited by its words. 

We are in this place, this remarkable city, but we are not a church of this place. We cannot claim to have any significant part on the difficult and often deadly history of the Christian faith in France. Our story comes from a different beginning, and we are here because of a different history. But because of that, we know that George Washington never sat in our pews, and if he had, no one around here would care that he did.

So what kind of a church are we?

The first thing to know about your church is that we are a church in the middle. And not just by accident; we very intentionally take up a position in the middle, in many ways.

We are a church in the middle between the Roman Catholic Church and the Reformation. We struggle to hold a place of creative tension between one and the other. And that means we are often dismissed by both.

We are a church in the middle between faith and knowledge. We do not deny the power of scientific discovery to reveal truth to us. But even as we do so, we are people of faith, faith based not on evidence but on trust—trust in the promise God has made to us, a promise that we believe reveals to us a truth that science cannot grasp.

We are a church in the middle between France and America, and between French and English. We have been in this city, worshiping in English, for a hundred and sixty three years; yet the people who have come here have been people who love this country, its people and its language, its complications and its contradictions. And we are once again asking ourselves how we might be more welcoming to others if we found at least as many ways to welcome our neighbors as ourselves.

Take it from those of us who have been doing this for a long time—being in the middle can be tiring. Being in the middle can wear you down. We are a bridge; but part of the reason bridges stand up is that they are always under stress.

And here is one thing more—maybe the most difficult thing of all.

We are a church that follows Jesus Christ, wherever that leads us. And what those of us have done this for a while have learned is that the farther you go in your walk with him, the greater the chance that your faith will take you places you never thought you’d go. Because there is nowhere that Jesus will not go, no person Jesus will not reach, no shame Jesus will stop at, no idea Jesus will not try, no beloved tradition Jesus will not lay aside, to share the urgent truth that love is the evidence that God is still alive and at work in the world. 

So this is not a church for the elite or the famous. It’s not a church of the nation, or of any nation. It’s not a church for the perfect, or the most theologically astute, or the purest. It is a church for the rest of us, the rest of us who struggle in our faith yet know our faith is worth the struggle

The world doesn’t believe God is possible; but we know all things are possible with God. The world does not believe love can prevail over brutality and force; but we know that love is the only thing with the power to bring justice out of our human pmistakes. The world thinks the highest values are the values of the Republic; but we are subjects of another kingdom, and another king, not of this world. 

The world does not believe there is anything at stake in what happens inside here; but we know that each person who walks by the gate of this church every day has an immortal soul that is the gift and image of God, and that it can be hurt—and needs to be both nurtured and defended.

That is our task—to provide a place that shelters those who seek, and protects the possibility of the sacred in every human life. Today you are not just joining a faith; you are joining the church. And my brothers and sisters, be in no doubt about this: The church, this church, is called by God to change the world, one soul at a time. 

We—and now you—are not given the gift of the Holy Spirit for our own possession. We are given this gift for a purpose, a purpose not less than binding up those who have been wounded, weaving back together things that have been broken, breaking down hate and fear with a love that is both strenuous and unafraid. 

So now we want to hear from you. We want to know you are ready—or that you will help this child take all this on. And then we will pray for you, and the Holy Spirit will come upon you—because changing the world into the full possibility God intends for us is not easy, and we need you alongside us to do it. Amen.