Sermon for Solemn Evensong with the blessing of the bishop’s crozier. September 13, 2026

Readings:

Psalm 89: 1-26

Isaiah 40: 1-11

John 21: 1-17

I feel like in some ways this service tonight is a bit unnecessary. I can say that now that you’re all already here. 

We wanted to have this service tonight to offer a prayer and a blessing over this crozier, which will be our bishop-elect’s pastoral staff that he will take with him as he travels about the diocese tending his flock. A crozier, if you don’t already know, is designed after a shepherd’s crook; a tool that actual shepherds use to tend actual sheep. Candy canes have this same shape, by the way. It is because they are supposed to remind us, either of the shepherds that visited Jesus in the manger, OR of St. Nicholas of Myra (Santa Claus) because… he was a bishop. For many centuries, the shepherd’s staff, along with the pointed hat called the mitre, have been the main symbols of a bishop. 

Now our bishop-elect will have an official diocesan crozier that will be presented to him as a sign of his new authority on Saturday at his consecration, but as that one doesn’t often leave the cathedral, this is the crozier that will actually get more road time. This crozier will travel will him from visit to visit as he travels about this diocese. It will be, quite literally, by his side through much of his ministry that lies ahead. So naturally, I thought we should bless it. 

You should know Father (and I may call you that for only a few more days) that as a liturgist, I am someone who prefers to look things up, not make things up. I did a fair amount of research into how croziers should be blessed and who should bless them, and I came up pretty empty-handed. So, the prayer that we will say in a few minutes is something that I cobbled together from a few different places in an attempt to say what I think needs to be said. But the more that I have thought about it, the more I have realized that this blessing will just be the icing on a very sweet cake. Nice, but not very necessary. This crozier has already been blessed.

You see, this staff was crafted from the wood of a pew just like the ones you are all sitting on. These pews were purchased after the Second World War, after this church did its last major renovation project. So, they have been a part of the worship life of this parish for close to 80 years. A few years ago, when we were trying to make this space a little more accessible and easier to move around, we decided that we needed to remove a couple pews from the worship space, and they have been moving around the building since then. Well one of those pews has now been transformed into this. Some of you, many of you, have actually sat on this. Who knows how many faithful people this wood has upheld over the years. How many prayers has it heard? How many restless children have climbed on it? The weekday worshippers, the every-Sunday folks, the faithful Christmas and Easter crowd, occasional visitors, reluctant attendees, non-believers dragged to services against their wills…they have all sat here too. People that believed fervently and whole-heartedly in the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, and people who weren’t sure what, if anything, they believed…they have sat here. This little piece of wood has given comfort and support to a lot of folks over the years. In my book, that means it is already sacred, already blessed.

 In a few minutes we will sprinkle it with holy water, but it has been sprinkled with holy water before: in solemn liturgies and at baptisms and funerals. Holy water has already blessed this wood. No doubt there have been occasions when it has been touched with the holiest water of all: our tears. How many broken hearts have rested on this piece of wood, looking for some hope, some sign that the Resurrection and new life is real? How many mourners missing a loved one? How many sinners overcome with a sense of their own failure? Their tears have already blessed this staff. 

Or maybe the tears of joy shed for marriages and new babies, and joyful Easters and toddlers making their Christmas pageant debut…carrying shepherd’s crooks of their own. Those tears have given this piece of wood more spiritual power than any magic spell I could concoct. 

And incense, we will bless this crozier with incense in a bit. But, if you are a member here, or if you have worshipped with us before, then you know that this place is regularly fumigated to drive off the demons. So, this wood has already been steeped in fragrant offerings to God. It has already been infused with the smell of heaven. 

For many decades, this wood has heard the words of scripture. For many decades, it has heard the prayers from our prayer book. Although, I should advise you dear bishop-to-be, that you may want to hold it gently the first few times you attend a Rite II service; it hasn’t heard much of that language before. Now, I know that throughout your ministry that is what this piece of wood is going to hear the most. And I am sure that the crozier will adjust over time to the dissonance of contemporary language. But never forget that the Prayer of Humble Access still reverberates within its cellular walls. So, promise me that at least once in a while, even if only in the privacy of your own prayer desk, you will open your prayer book to page 337 and recite those glorious words to this symbol of your authority. “We do not presume to come to this thy table, O Lord, trusting in our own righteousness.” Recite those words to this crozier, every now and then. It might just keep the wood from cracking. It might just keep you from cracking. 

You never want to trust too much in your own righteousness; not as much as you do in God’s mercy. We all need a reminder of that now and then. The wood of this crozier knows that Prayer of Humble Access by heart, and that sounds like sacred wood to me. This wood is blessed. It has already been blessed, and it was blessed by all of us, and the generations who came before us. What could I possibly add to that? Not much. What a symbol!

But the wood of a pew and a shepherd’s crook are not the only symbols here before you. This crozier is rich with symbols. Engraved on the staff beneath the crook is the shield of the Diocese of Long Island, where you have been called to serve. It is there along with the diocesan motto which was taken from the 1928 Book of Common Prayer translation of Psalm 89 verse 25: I will set his dominion in the sea. The full psalm verse from the 1979 Book of Common Prayer is also printed there on the other side. I guess modern language isn’t always bad, because I think the 79 translation makes it even more meaningful to the context of this diocese: “I shall make his dominion extend from the Great Sea to the River.” I shall make his dominion extend from the Great Sea to the River. Now the psalmist was surely talking about King David’s dominion extending from the Mediterranean to the Euphrates, and yet hear we are, living on a strip of land that extends from the Atlantic Ocean (a great sea) to the East River. We may be a long way away in time and distance from King David’s kingdom, but we may still hope and pray and work for his descendant, our true and rightful king, Jesus, to exercise his dominion here on this island where we find ourselves living. I shall make his dominion extend from the Great Sea to the River. That is a promise that God is making to us, as much as God was making it to a humble psalm writer thousands of years ago. God has his hand on this strip of land between the great sea and the river; he has a claim on it; his anointed one will reign here too.

And I do want to point out to our bishop-elect and to everyone here, lay and ordained, everyone that works and prays for God’s kingdom to come: I want to point out that the speaker in this psalm verse, the “I” in the “I shall make” is God. God is the one making this happen. God is the one that is truly going to bring this kingdom, this dominion, about. God is the one at work here. Never forget, Father, that God has been working here longer than you have. God has been working here longer than any of us. This kingdom of our God which we pray will come every time we say the Our Father, it will not come about through our superior opinions or good decisions. It will not come about through endless programs and marketing schemes. And God’s kingdom isn’t coming to Long Island because we elected a new bishop, no matter how good of a choice we made. God’s kingdom is coming because God keeps his promises. That’s it. God keeps his promises. And when God’s kingdom does come, it will not be a reflection of our righteousness; it will be a reflection of God’s righteousness. 

So, bishop-elect, you may carry this stick lightly, always remembering that you are charged to pray for God’s kingdom, to work for it, to tend the flock and shepherd them in that direction, but it will always be God’s kingdom and it will ultimately come in God’s time and under God’s power. Not yours.

But you, as a unique individual have been called by God to serve here. And this is your crozier and it needed to say something about who you are. So, you will find engraved on the staff on either side of the seal that same psalm verse, psalm 89: verse 25 (or 26 in some translations), in both Hebrew and Arabic, as you are someone who is proud of both your Jewish and your Arabic ancestry. You have been called, and you have been called to serve here, in this diocese. So below these inscriptions are four buttons marked with K, Q, N, and S representing the four counties of the diocese: Kings, Queens, Nassau, and Suffolk. Across these four counties exists a diversity like few other places on earth. God’s kingdom here is not defined by any one race or language or culture. Our worship is a mirror of the worship of heaven, where people from every nation, tribe, people, and language gather before God’s throne. So, around the base of this crozier, circling another image of the diocesan seal, are translations of psalm 89 verse 25 in other languages. Languages that worship is conducted in in our diocese: Spanish, Haitian Creole, Korean, Mandarin Chinese, Georgian, and Urdu. You are not one thing, bishop-elect, and neither are we. 

And that psalm is more than one verse. There is so much in the psalm that speaks to someone who is faithfully trying to serve the God we worship:

Your love, O LORD, for ever will I sing; *     from age to age my mouth will proclaim your faithfulness.
	For I am persuaded that your love is established for ever; *     you have set your faithfulness firmly in the heavens.

The heavens bear witness to your wonders, O LORD, *
    and to your faithfulness in the assembly of the holy ones;

Righteousness and justice are the foundations of your throne; *     love and truth go before your face.

Truly, the LORD is our ruler; *
    The Holy One of Israel is our King.

There are so many powerful and meaningful verses in that psalm. Just like there are powerful and meaningful verses in all of the psalms, all of our scriptures, and all of our prayers. There is so much for you to lean on as you take on this awesome responsibility. So, there is another symbol that has been incorporated into this crozier, and oddly it is a symbol you are never going to see, but it’s in there. Embedded deep inside the handle of this staff are pages taken directly from the psalter of a Book of Common Prayer. They are the pages that contain Psalm 89. Everywhere you go, you will have within your hand pages from our prayer book and a piece of our scriptures. One of the vows you will take on Saturday will be to guard the faith, unity, and discipline of the church. Well, as you go about your ministry you will always have, within your hand, a symbol of that faith, unity, and discipline: our prayer book. You will literally be upholding it whenever you take up this staff. But remember this: a shepherd’s staff has two purposes; it is a tool for catching and directing the sheep, but it is also a walking stick for the shepherd. The thing which you are upholding should also be upholding you. Lean on your faith. Let those prayers of the people in the pews lift you up as much as you seek to serve them. Never underestimate the power of the prayer warriors that inhabit the pews of this diocese. They are doing more work for the kingdom than many of us would ever imagine. And this crozier is dedicated to them. To the people in the pews of the churches in this diocese. Specifically, it is dedicated to one of them, that sadly father you won’t get to meet this side of heaven; she has already gone to glory, but I feel confident that her prayers will be with you nonetheless. Her name was Ruth Dubas, and she was a faithful member of this church, a pastoral visitor, a cursillista, a choir member, and an old-fashioned prayer warrior who was here for everything. She was regularly in this chapel during the week praying for everyone and everything. I am sure that her prayers will be with you now, father, as well.

It was Ruth, incidentally, who first commissioned Arthur Snow, the artisan who created this staff, to build our columbarium. So, in a way she is responsible for this crozier, because without her we might never have known how talented Arthur is. Many of you who are visitors may not know Arthur very well, but it occurred to me as I was reflecting on how he gave this old pew a whole new life, that some of Arthur’s greatest works in this place have been symbols of death and resurrection. The columbarium, the paschal candle stand, and now this. It reminds me of the collect that they will say at your consecration on Saturday, Father: “let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new.”

Things which had grown old are being made new.

The inscription under the base of this crozier indicates that it is officially being presented to you on the date of your consecration, although we will let you take it home tonight. But there is also there a reminder of where this crozier came from, as a pew in this church. On the bottom you will see a cross that is the original cross from the end piece of the pew. It is a reminder not just of the origin of this crozier, but of the origin of our entire faith: the cross. The story of our redemption all starts with a simple piece of wood coming into direct contact with God’s miraculous love. Wood that has been blessed by God.

This crozier has already been blessed to do the job that lies ahead of it, and I am inclined to think, dear bishop-elect, in the short time that I have gotten to know you, that so have you. Your consecration on Saturday will be an important moment, but God has already been working on you, just like he has already been working on this piece of wood. You are both already blessed.