Sermon preached at The Church of The Ascension, Rockville Centre, NY on December 24th, 2016.

 

A few decades ago a team of archaeologists descended upon the little town of Clones, Ireland, which is in County Monaghan, right on the border of Northern Ireland, in search of the remains of an old castle.

 

They knew that there had been a castle there at some point. It was referred to in some historic documents and it was featured on one 18^th century map, but the visible remains had long since disappeared, or so they thought. The team brought their shovels and buckets and after doing their best research they began digging where they thought the castle should be, but despite their best efforts they came up empty handed. They assumed that the castle must simply have been destroyed, so they packed up their gear and went home. Case closed.

 

This past spring an amateur historian, decided that she would take a look around Clones, and she met an elderly local man who pointed her in the direction of a pile of rubble that he had always thought was significant, but that had always been dismissed by others as unimportant. After they managed to clear away some of the underbrush and pull back the ivy, lo and behold, there were the remains of a 16^th century castle.

 

But here is the really fun part of this story: the remains of this so-called lost castle were sitting in plain sight. They weren’t buried underground. And furthermore, they weren’t off in the distant countryside, they were right near the center of town…on castle street…right behind a building called castle house…in a place that children used to pretend was a castle. Whoops.

 

The experts were so confident in their own research and so convinced that the castle must lie somewhere underground, deep and hidden, that they overlooked all the signs that pointed right to it. They were so determined that it must be hard to find, that they completely missed that it was starring them right in the face.

 

My point here is not really to make fun of the researchers, and it is certainly not to make fun of the Irish. The discovery of Clones castle is a perfect example of something we are all capable of: missing what is right in front of you.

 

A few years ago I was at dinner with a group of Ascension parishioners, and one parishioner, who shall remain nameless, simply could not find her keys at the end of the meal, despite only having one glass of wine. After several minutes of searching she found them…in her hand. You all may laugh but you know that it is the sort of thing that you have probably done yourself: searching for your glasses when they are on your head; looking for your cell phone when you are talking on it. We lose things in plain sight all the time, it isn’t a sign of senility, it is a sign of humanity. We even have phrases that refer to this phenomenon: to miss the forest for the trees, or we refer to something as “being plain as the nose on your face” it’s right in front of you, obvious to everyone else and yet, you can’t see it. You literally over-look it.

 

The people in the village of Clones, Ireland had been looking at that pile of rubble for so long that they had ceased to appreciate what it was. The experts that came looking for it paid no heed to the signs that had been left to them; and the words of little children and old men were dismissed as being mere fantasy or irrelevant. And all the while, the very thing that people were looking for was right in front of them.

 

I would venture to say that most of you here tonight think that you know the Christmas story. You have seen Christmas pageants, heard the scriptures, sung the carols, and watched the movies. Christmas, and all of it’s traditions and trappings, is familiar to you, and there is much to be said for familiarity. Things that are familiar are comforting; they make us feel secure; they help create stability in an unstable world and in unstable minds. Our traditions are living links with our ancestors and they should absolutely be honored and respected. But, there is one great danger to tradition that we must always be aware of: sometimes when things become such a regular part of our lives we forget that they are even there, or we stop appreciating what they really mean to us.

 

It is as simple as leaving your sunglasses on your head…after a while you get so used to the feeling that you stop feeling them altogether. I think that sometimes that is how many of us experience Christmas as we get older: something that becomes more familiar, and yet somehow we feel less. Maybe that is how many people experience their faith as well: they think they know what Christianity is all about, but no longer appreciate its true meaning or power.

 

Has the Christmas story, or the story of Christianity itself, become too familiar to you? Has it become like that castle in Ireland, something that we completely overlook because we are so used to seeing it? Have we allowed the weeds and ivy of daily life to cover and mask it?

 

There are a lot of people in this world that are searching: searching for answers, searching for truth, searching for meaning and faith. You might be one of those people. You may look at the church as an overgrown pile of rubble on the side of the road, its purpose long forgotten, a place for the fantasies of children or the dismissed ideas of old-men, but before you move on, stop for a moment, pull back the ivy and look deeper. What you are searching for may not be so hard to find afterall.

 

Look at the manger tonight with fresh eyes; try to hear the hymns the same way you might have first heard them as a child. Listen to the Christmas story as if you have never heard it before. Remember that this story is full of wonder and magic.

 

Children are born into the world every day, under all different sorts of circumstances, but this wasn’t just any birth. Prophets and preachers have walked the earth from the beginning of time, but this wasn’t just any prophet. The story we are telling here tonight is a supernatural story. God, the source of all life and the creator of the universe, looks at sinful, quarrelsome human beings and decides that despite their failings, he loves them anyways; loves them so much that he chooses to be born among them, as one of them. In Jesus Christ we are able to see the face of God in a way that we never could before; In him we are invited into a living relationship with the author of all creation; here we can finally take hold of that outstretched hand that seeks to save us from ourselves. What a powerful gift. That is what this night is all about.

 

Tonight we remember that our experience as humans is one that God shares. Everything from our first breath to our last, from birth to death, hunger, fear, joy, laughter, pain…our God has experienced it all and he made that choice to be born into this world, out of love for you and me. This child is born into the world because God wants to have a relationship with you. That is an amazing story.

 

That story is why we are here tonight, that story is why this building is here; people have died to tell that story. Our scriptures, our hymns, our church itself these, are all signs and symbols that have been left to us from generations past to point us in the right direction, to guide us to the manger and to say to us across time that this is a place where we have found God, and you can find him here too. As we gather together tonight, as Christians have gathered for over 2000 years, let us not take for granted this truth that we proclaim, not for a second. Do not let the fact that this story is familiar to you, blind you to the amazing news that is being shared.

 

Do not dismiss the carols as being the fantasies of children or the scriptures as being the outdated thoughts of old men, but see them as holy and sacred signs directing you in your search for God, if you can only see them with fresh eyes. The discovery of Clones Castle can teach us an important lesson, not only about looking for objects that have been lost, but about looking for God as well: always remember that that which you are seeking may not be as hard to find as you first imagine: the answer may be right in front of you.

Stewardship Sermon given on Sunday, November 13th, 2016 at Christ Church in Garden City, NY

Readings:

Malachi 4:1-2a
Psalm 98
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
Luke 21:5-19

 

Herod the great was one helluva king. Now we all know him from our nativity plays at Christmas time, and from what we read in the Gospel of Matthew, or what we remember from watching King of Kings, The Greatest Story Ever Told, Jesus of Nazareth, or whatever your favorite Jesus movie is, but if you only know Herod from what you have read or what you have seen on TV, then you only know one side of Herod.

 

Yes, it is true that he was a puppet of a foreign government. He was a petty dictator, a tyrant, and a religious phony, and yes, maybe he slaughtered 20 or 30 kids in Bethlehem one year…but he also built things. He built big things. He built cities and roads. He built a fortress on top of a mountain (with a penthouse palace for himself of course), a city by the sea, monuments, mines, and most famously of all: the temple itself. So maybe he was a horrible person in almost every way imaginable, but we have to admit that he got stuff done.

 

Now I should say that he didn’t actually build the temple; it was already there. Herod just made some improvements. He made it bigger and taller and threw gold leaf on anything that would stand still, and they were just putting the finishing touches on this magnificent building when this country prophet named Jesus comes to town.

 

Now the people are standing around marveling at this great building and all of its adornment and Jesus walks up to them and says: “someday, this will all be gone.”

 

Now the people are both terrified and indignant at the same time: what? who? how? This building is made of the biggest, heaviest stones anyone has ever seen. What do you mean thrown down? Who is planning to do this? How can we stop them? How can we prepare? And Jesus says to them: “there are many people that will come along and promise you security in this world. Don’t go chasing after them.”

 

Now Jesus loved the temple very much. He had been worshiping there his entire life. When he saw people desecrating it, it made him angry. He prayed there and he taught there. He travelled on foot for many miles just to worship God in that place. Jesus by no means is dismissing the temple as being unimportant. He isn’t saying that this place of worship doesn’t matter. Quite the contrary, Jesus understands the true importance of the temple. He knows why it truly matters.

 

That temple is there as an outpost of heaven. As an embassy of God’s Kingdom. It is there to call people to worship and prayer. It is there to remind people that the powers of the world are not the final authority. It is there to teach humility. It is there to foster hope. It is there as a symbol of God’s abiding presence with his children. Jesus didn’t come to that place to worship Herod. He doesn’t walk away from the temple self-satisfied and impressed with what men can build, rather he is reminded of just how much more glorious the Kingdom of God is than anything mankind can conceive or accomplish.

 

Jesus was right about those stones. A few decades after he died the Romans marched in, fed up with this quarrelsome little country, and torn down the temple stone by stone. They plundered it’s riches, killed its priests, destroyed the holy of holies and burned anything left standing. When they marched away then only thing they left was the four retaining walls from the foundation of the temple mount. And the Romans were confident that they had finished the job. They tore down Herod’s magnificent building, and I am sure they thought after doing so that “there is nothing more to see here so our work is done.” But then the Romans didn’t understand the true power of the temple and its true purpose.

 

I have been to Israel twice on pilgrimage now and both times I have been utterly blown away by the power of the Western Wall. It is simply the scrap of a foundation wall that the Romans left behind because they didn’t think anyone could ever care about it, but oh how wrong the Romans were. Today, almost two thousand years after they destroyed it, it still remains one of the holiest sites in the world. Day in and day out people flock there to pray, to mourn, to celebrate, to remember, to dream. It is a place of laughter and of tears. Each time I go am amazed by the fact that this ugly ruin, just a few old stones sitting on top of each other, can be one of the most beautiful things in the world. Yes, if you want to see human sinfulness it is all over too: it is a place of division and fighting and pain and brokenness, but if you can look beyond that you will also see that it is a gateway into another world. The temple still has its power because it still directs people to God, and that was its true purpose all along.

 

We live in a world of uncertainties. Wars and fighting, famines and disease, these things have been more or less constant throughout history. And throughout that same history there have always been individuals going around saying: “I am he.” I am the one that can save you from all of this. Believe in me and I will protect you from all of that uncertainty. Follow me and honor me and I will give you the riches of the world. That is the world we live in and that is a world that desperately needs temples.

 

We need temples to remind us that nothing we can build on this earth can outshine or outlast the glory of God. We need temples to remind us that we humans are not the ultimate and final authority in this universe. We need temples to remind us that God still dwells with us. We need temples to give us hope, guidance, courage, humility, faith and perseverance. We need temples to remind us that although we live in this world and in this country and place, that we are also called to be citizens of another kingdom. We need temples because our hearts will always need to be directed to worship something other than ourselves.

 

What do you see when you look at this church?

 

Do you see pretty stones and woodwork? Do you see gilding here and there? Memorials from ages past?

 

Do you see an aging structure in need of ongoing repair? Do you see light bills and water bills? Do you see an office with a fussy copy machine? Do you see a social hall? A school with a chapel attached? A community services organization?

 

Or do you see a temple?

 

Because that is, in truth, what every church is. This is a temple. This is first and foremost a place where God is to be worshiped. This place stands as a symbol to the community that God still lives here among his children. It is a window into another world; an outpost or embassy of another kingdom. It is a place where we proclaim that in the midst of this tempestuous and uncertain world there is still a rock that we can stand on; that there is still shelter for the broken and the weary and the downtrodden. It is a place where we remember that God is the source of all that is holy, not Herod. It is a place of comfort, of humility, of hope and of prayer. This is a place where people come to meet God, and nothing you do, no ministry, no service is more important than that. If you have any doubt about that just look to Jerusalem. Herod is long dead and the pretty buildings are long gone, but people still flock there because they still find God in the ruins.

 

If this place is a temple where God is worshipped, which I believe it is, then it must also be a place where sacrifice is made. Now the supreme sacrifice of the church always has been and always will be the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. That is the sacrifice that only he can offer and it is that same sacrifice that we remember each and every time we celebrate the holy mysteries at the altar, but we are called to make sacrifices too.

This temple should be a reminder to us that this world, and all of its pleasures and pains is not the end of the story for us; it is not our ultimate destination. So if we are people of faith, then we need to look at everything we have, our lives, our finances, our time and we need to recognize that without God we wouldn’t have any of it. And without God we wouldn’t have the hope that we have for the future. We have the immense privilege to be citizen of the Kingdom of God, and heirs of salvation. Our lives should reflect the importance of God and when we gather in his temple we are called, I believe, to look at all that God has given to us, and to offer something back. Not as repayment, for we could never do that, nor as pay for play, nor as an attempt to buy our way into the kingdom, but as a sincere gesture and statement of the importance of God in our life. That is what sacrifice has always been: offering God something that is precious to us, recognizing that he has already given us so much more.

 

Now you may be wondering, and should be asking yourselves, how much God is calling me to give this year. That is ultimately a question that only you can answer. I can tell you that the biblical standard in the scriptures and throughout most of Christian history has been 10%. Some of you may be gripping your seat at this point. This is one of those moments when it is great to just be a guest preacher. I can say the difficult things knowing that if you don’t like it I am wearing shoes I can run in. Of course, all clergy recognize that for some people that may be a stretch, and for others it could just be a starting point, but how ever much you give, let it be significant to you. Let it represent an actual sacrifice and not just something you can spare.

 

I’ll be honest with you. I have wasted a lot of money in my life. Bought things I shouldn’t have. Invested in things that I shouldn’t have. I am amazed at how much can be spent on totally meaningless things. I regret those wastes, but I can tell you I don’t regret giving any of the money I have ever given to God or his church. Because I know that this is a temple, and that at the end of the day that money isn’t just about balancing budgets and paying bills, it is about building the kingdom of God.

The kingdoms of this world, they come and go. Our rulers come and go and our fancy buildings come and go. Herod is dead and everything he built lies in ruins, but Jesus is alive and his kingdom is still going strong. So let us not grow weary in doing what is right. Let us not go following after every worldly leader that promises us security in an insecure world. Rather, let us see each struggle as an opportunity to testify to our faith in the only King that truly saves us.

Sermon given on November 2nd, 2016 at the requiem mass for All Souls’ Day.

Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.

 

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

 

Father George D. Carleton in his magnificent book about the Christian Faith called “The King’s Highway” wrote that:

“There seems to be no argument that can be brought forward against praying for the dead that would not equally be against all intercessory prayer…and indeed the Church, in encouraging prayers for the dead, has only given its sanction to what is a powerful instinct in the heart of man. The loving heart cannot but desire good for the loved ones within the veil; and every earnest desire of a Christian heart in union with Christ is prayer, even if it not be expressed in the form of prayer.”

 

Father Carleton was writing in 1924, at a time which was what one could call the height of the Anglo-Catholic revival within the Anglican churches. It was a time when the church sought to reclaim some of its ancient practices that had in many cases been abandoned or misunderstood by much of the church since the time of the reformation. That movement resulted in the creation of such societies as the Guild of All Souls, which was founded to witness to the church and to the rest of society that we Christians not only have the ability to pray for those who have died, it is, in fact, a part of our Christian duty.

 

If we believe in the power of intercessory prayer; if we believe that there is some good to be had from praying for each other as we struggle through this life, then why would we think that death somehow makes that invalid?

 

Saint Paul says in his letter to the Romans:

“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

 

Nothing in life or death is going to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. If we, as Christians have been united to him in baptism, then we are joined to Christ in a bond that death cannot break. That is why Paul can go on and say to the Corinthians: “Death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” Our relationships do not end in death. Just as we remain united to Christ, we remain united to each other. Death can no longer separate us. The church is one family, not just this parish or this diocese, or even of every Christian walking the earth right now, but everyone who has ever been sanctified by the waters of baptism, and if that is so then why should our care and concern for those we love suddenly cease at the gate of death? Baptism unites us to Christ and to each other in a bond that death cannot break.

 

But the church has for a very long time recognized that while those waters of baptism may unite us to Christ, they don’t make us perfect. There are some individuals whose witness to the faith and lives of holiness leave us no doubt of their sanctity, those people whom we generally refer to as saints, but for the vast majority of us, when we reach the point of death we will do so as very imperfect people. The idea of purgatory, is perhaps one of the most misunderstood in the history of Christianity, both by Catholics and Protestants alike. It is not meant to be some extra punishment inflicted on believers after death, the escape from which to be made available at a price. It is not a harsh doctrine, but is in fact a witness to the grace and mercy of God. Most of us will die as individuals that haven’t figured everything out: we will not have repented of every sin, or even recognized every failure in our lives. We will, in short, not be quite ready to see God face to face. But we have faith that God has not given up on us. Imperfect as we may be, we still share in the life of his very perfect son. What the doctrine of purgatory is meant to say is quite simply that we do not believe that God throws away tarnished silver.

 

Through baptism are souls are transformed into a very precious metal, but sin and life has a way of tarnishing that. We try as hard as we can to keep it polished, but still we are likely to enter the next world with plenty of stains. Its ok. God’s mercy abides. If we allow him to continually wash us, and polish us, we will eventually be found gleaming around his throne.

 

One of the prayers in our prayerbook states:

 

Into thy hands, O Lord, we commend thy servant, our dear brother, as into the hands of a faithful creator and most merciful savior, beseeching thee that he may be precious in thy sight. Wash him, we pray thee, in the blood of that immaculate lamb that was slain to take away the sins of the world; that, whatsoever defilments he may have contracted in the midst of this earthly life being purged and done away, he may be presented pure and without spot before thee; through the merits of Jesus Christ thine only Son our Lord. Amen.

 

And another:

 

Remember thy servant, O Lord, according to the favor which thou barest unto thy people; and grant that, increasing in knowledge and love of thee, he may go from strength to strength in the life of perfect service in thy heavenly kingdom;

 

Being washed in the blood of the lamb; being purged of our defilements, and growing in strength and knowledge. That is our hope as we pass from this life into the next one. We don’t know exactly what it will be like, or how long it will take; time ceases to have the same meaning when you leave this world. What we do believe though, is that through it all we are still part of the church. We on earth are the church militant; those that are still being polished by God are the church expectant; and those that are shining around the throne are the church triumphant, but we are all one church, united in baptism, united in love and united in prayer.

 

There is a great lie that is often perpetuated about funerals. We are told, and we tell ourselves, that the funeral is really about the survivors, the family, and what they need. For most modern funerals that has largely become the focus: keeping the family comfortable. What this usually entails is distracting the family from the reality of death by trying to mask it. Funerals become “celebrations of life” that focus solely on happy memories. But by trying to ignore the painful, present reality of death we create something that is far more depressing: we create services that only look backwards and not forwards. We create the impression that the deceased person only has a past and not a future, and that is hardly the Christian faith at all.

 

We believe that in Christ we do have a future, and that our “life is changed not ended” as the preface of the mass says. So we live in the hope that our best days are always ahead of us. And we live in the hope that our loved ones have glory ahead of them too. We may not be able to do much for them right now, but we can do this. We can pray. We can hold them up before God, trusting that in his mercy and grace he will wash them of their sins, strengthen them and complete the good work that he began in them at their baptism. Our labor here is not in vain. God doesn’t throw away tarnished silver.

Note: This sermon was preached on Thursday, September 29th, 2016, being the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels, and on the occasion of the blessing and dedication of our new front entrance.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Church of The Ascension in Rockville Centre has, I think at least, a well-deserved reputation for being a welcoming church. Plenty of individuals have made this observation to me, and it is certainly something I have experienced myself. To welcome outsiders into our community is very important, but if we are going to minister to the community in which we live and if we are going to evangelize the next generation of Christians, then being welcoming will simply not be enough. We need to be an inviting church.

 

You see, in the recent past going to church was taken for granted. It is just what you did. When people moved into a new community they went church shopping and very often the church they selected was the one that was the most welcoming, or the one that most suited their needs or their tastes. People were looking for church and your task was to get them to choose yours. Alas, that is not the world we live in anymore.

 

Most people in our society are not looking for a church anymore. Sure, you may encounter a few here and there, but they are fewer and farther between. People still have spiritual needs and they still long for answers to life’s tough questions, but they are less convinced that church is the place to have those needs met. That makes our job, as Christians that are called to spread the good news, a bit harder. We can no longer depend upon people coming to us, so we must go to them. We cannot just welcome people into this worshipping community, we must invite them.

 

The world we find ourselves in is less like the 1950s and 60s of our parents and grandparents, and more like the 50s and 60s AD of Paul and the Apostles: We live in a largely secular world that is mostly unfamiliar and unconcerned with the teachings of Jesus. But, that is the same world that Christ sent his disciples out into; he sent them, he didn’t tell them to wait until the world came looking for them; he sent them out and told them to go out into the world making disciples of all nations. That is the world in which we live: we are not just reminding people of the good news; for many people we are helping them encounter it for the first time.

 

Now you may be wondering: what on earth does this have to do with new church doors and windows? It’s this: people no longer assume that church has much to offer their lives. They aren’t going to fight to overcome obstacles to get in. We have to invite them to take a look inside. We need to show them that this isn’t just a door into a community meeting space, but a gateway into a different kingdom. Our new entrance isn’t just designed to be pretty; it is designed to be inviting. It is designed to remove barriers. It is designed to entice people to go deeper; to encourage them to look within and maybe, just maybe, respond to the God that is calling out to them.

 

It is fitting that standing guard over this new entrance are four archangels. Tonight is the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels; it is a day when the Church celebrates God’s angels and the work they do for his kingdom. Now I feel that I should point out here that there are many misconceptions about angels in popular culture. The biggest misconception is that angels are what we become when we die. No. That is not what the church teaches. Angels and humans are entirely different types of beings created by God. We might join the ranks of the faithful departed when we die, we might even be called saints, but we do not become angels. What we do share with angels though is a common mission: angels were created to be the special messengers of God, to work for God’s kingdom here on earth, and we as Christians are called to do very much the same. The angels that grace our doors direct our thoughts not only to the things we ought to pray for as we enter this building, they remind us of the work we need to do as we leave this building.

Saint Uriel, the giver of divine light and patron of poets and artists. Saint Uriel’s task is to inspire. To make people wonder at the greatness of God and all his works. We pray to Saint Uriel to fill our thoughts with the beautiful ideas that come from God and we pray that like Saint Uriel, we too can inspire others in our own way.

Saint Gabriel, the announcing angel who visited a young virgin to tell her that she was with child and that that child was the son of God. Saint Gabriel’s task is to proclaim. To announce to the world the coming of Jesus Christ and to proclaim the truth that this child is unlike any other. We pray to Saint Gabriel that he may continually make Christ known to us and we pray that we can be so bold as to proclaim that same child to an unknowing and unbelieving world.

Saint Michael, the prince of all the angels, the angel who casts Satan down and protects us from every attack of evil. Saint Michael’s task is to defend. To use his strength to defend those that are weaker in the name of justice. Saint Michael is the patron saint of police officers, soldiers and all law enforcement and that window is given as a tribute to all those who have answered the call to serve and protect. We pray to Saint Michael that he will protect us from the evil in this world, and especially protect those who put their lives in harms way on a daily basis, and we pray that we too will have the courage to stand up to evil in the world whenever we encounter it.

Saint Raphael, the medicine of God and the patron of pilgrims. Saint Raphael’s task is to heal. To embrace those who are suffering in body, mind or soul and give comfort and consolation. We pray to Saint Raphael that he may heal our infirmities, including our sins, and we pray that we too can be the instruments of God’s healing in the world.

 

Saint Uriel, Saint Gabriel, Saint Michael and Saint Raphael. As we enter this building, they remind us of the things for which we need to pray; as we exit they remind us of the work that we too are called to do in the world. We too are messengers of God, and we are called to Inspire, to Proclaim, to Defend, and to Heal. When we go out into the world doing that work, we invite people into relationship with God. The new entrance stands as a witness, not just to welcome those that are already coming in, but to invite those that are walking past. Our lives should do the same.

 

There are, of course, two more windows, which I haven’t referred to yet, and they are the most important. The windows at the heart of our front entrance, the two center doors, are mostly clear, and standing outside as you peer through them you first see the baptismal font, and then beyond that in the distance, the high altar and the tabernacle containing the body and blood of Christ. This is the feast that the angels are inviting us to. This is communion, becoming one with Christ and one with God. We go out into the world. Like the angels we serve as God’s messengers: we inspire, proclaim, defend and heal, but this is what we are inviting people to: to become the body of Christ in this world and ultimately to become citizens of the heavenly kingdom.

Those aren’t just new doors and steps out there that lead into an old building. It is the gateway into a different kingdom and a different way of life. We have reason tonight to celebrate. We celebrate Alice Mary Roggenkamp who began pushing for a ramp for people with mobility problems to get into the church. We celebrate all those who contributed to the 125^th campaign to help fund this project and especially the committee and those who worked long hours over the past couple of years to make this a reality. We celebrate the courageous lives of our soldiers and police officers who we will remember every time we see the light shining through Saint Michael’s face. We celebrate the lives of Mildred Savrda and Russell Dee Cooper, William and Dorothy Challice, Alfred and Ruth Frauenberger and Judith Berglund, for whom the other angel windows are given. Finally we celebrate the life of one man that wasn’t a member of this congregation; wasn’t even an Episcopalian, but nonetheless Fred Quenzer found in this church a place of spiritual refreshment and of grace. The front doors, the two center windows, the floor under your feet and even this vestment set that we are wearing were all made possible by the generous bequest from a man who only came here because someone invited him. If you have found God in this place, if you have experienced God through his angels, if you have been convinced of the truth we proclaim, if you want to fight for God’s kingdom and if you want to heal a broken world, then don’t just wait to welcome the souls that make it inside: go out and invite them.