Bring the Hopeless to Hope
In seminary, I took a class on the Theology of Ordination. Our first assignment was to read the rites of ordination for deacons and then come back and discuss what we had learned about the diaconate from this exercise. The professor asked for first impressions and I said, “I haven’t met many deacons. And I’m confused. How does the Church get anything done without scores of these people?” My experience in and with diaconal ministry since has only deepened my appreciation and reinforced that question for me. I am so glad that you have heard God’s call to this ministry and that you have agreed to walk the path that has brought you to this ordination, today.
And what a brilliant feast for ordaining deacons. Simon the Zealot and Jude, the patron of hopeless causes. You will need the fervour and energy of a zealot for this ministry. It is an endless task on this side of the Last Day. You will also need to hold close the story of St Jude. I’ll come back to him later.
We went a long time without a robust diaconal ministry. In the West, about 1,500 years. It was a pit stop for priests-in-training and not much more. God never stopped calling people to the diaconate as a full and equal order. But much of the Church did forget to pay attention to what God was doing with and for those people for a long, long time. In the last 100 years, we returned to an understanding of baptism as the cornerstone of our Christian life. It is not a coincidence that this renewal of baptismal ecclesiology came with a Spirit-filled movement to restore a permanent diaconate to the Church.
What I’m about to say probably is not news to any of the ordinands and certainly not to the deacons here, but I want to make sure that you’ve heard it before you make solemn public vows: The passage of John’s gospel that we’ve just heard is probably more often and more ferociously experienced by deacons than any other order of the Church. When you are living out your vocation in the most Christlike way, you will be unpopular. People will be upset by what you’re saying and doing. And, as often as not, the people who are most upset will be some of your siblings in Christ. And that’s okay; we have to become comfortable with the upsetting ministry of deacons.
Much of the Anglican Church of Canada is still unfamiliar with deacons and their ministry. We’ve heard of them, but don’t have a lot of real life experience. Like those drawings, popular in memes, of Medieval scribes trying to draw animals they haven’t seen. Someone wants an illustration of a lion and the scribe turns out something that looks like a large housecoat sculpted from mashed turnips. We are only a couple of generations into the restoration of the diaconate and our church, like any big ship, changes direction slowly. Remembering, deep in our Christian ancestry, how four orders work together in greatest service to God is a serious project. And, like any change, it’s uncomfortable.
Perhaps especially uncomfortable where deacons are reintroduced because it is their nature to be discomfiting. Deacons are a sign of comfort and good news to the world. Deacons are a sign of discomfort and hard news to the Church. Deacons make the Church uncomfortable because it is their God-given charism to carry the light of hope into the darkest corners of this human life and to tell us, the Church, what they have found. They tell us so that we can respond according to our own vocations. It is also their vocation to remind us and, eventually, condemn us when we fall into complacency and fail to act on those needs in the world. This last part is especially irritating to the rest of us because, in our hearts, we know that the deacons are not only right, but prophetic when they call out our complacency.
I have a story about this charism of the diaconate. It’s one of those stories where history becomes legend and legend becomes myth. I can’t promise the details are all correct, but I think it’s helpful either way. Once upon a time, in a Californian city, there was a joint gathering of Episcopalians and Lutherans who were celebrating a shared ministry in their city. It was late fall, right around this time of year. With a focus on outreach, an Episcopal deacon was preaching. This particular deacon was known to be a true force of nature; full of zeal in advocating for the hopeless in their community. As she was preaching about the needs in their community, the quickly-approaching winter and the need for warm clothing for their most vulnerable neighbours came up. She was heard to say, “Most of us have more clothing than we need. I can stop at a shelter on my way home from here tonight. Everyone, bring your coats up and lay them in front of the altar. I’ll take them with me when I go.” After a moment of slow comprehension, the Episcopalians began to sigh and take off their coats. The Lutherans, who did not know this deacon, were confused and one of the Episcopalians was heard to say, “Oh, just do it. She’s a deacon; none of us are going anywhere until there’s a pile of coats in front of that altar.” I would encourage you to be careful about that exact tactic in your own ministries, but the story is a study of the kind of ministry you have been chosen for. It is a ministry that marks you as different from the world. And for living it out, some of the world will hate you.
St Jude was pretty unpopular in the days of his earthly ministry. Got himself martyred for his trouble spreading the good news of the Gospel and bringing the hopeless to hope. St Jude is the patron of hopeless causes, not because he was content with hopelessness, but because he refused to allow hopelessness to remain. As the story goes, his prayer was known to be effective in healing. One day he received a letter from the King of Edessa, long afflicted with a slow death by leprosy. His condition had been written off by everyone as hopeless. A long wait for the end. Through Jude’s intercession and care, the king was miraculously healed of a condition with no cure and restored to wholeness. Jude is the one through whom God brought the hopeless to hope and reminded the world that, with God, all things are possible. It has been suggested that Jude’s healing of the king irritated those who would have benefited from the monarch’s death and may have hastened that martyrdom along.The world hated Jesus before it hated Jude.
Deacons speak truth in the face of dishonesty and complacency. They bear light in the dark places of this world. The last role of deacons that I want to talk about is the one that makes me, a priest, the most uncomfortable, even though I know it’s good for me. Deacons blur the place where we think the boundary is between the sacred and the profane. One of the roles of my order is to administer sacraments for the life of the world. This is important work and a heavy responsibility for priests. It occupies a lot of our time and thought, as it should. The nourishment, formation, and care of the faithful is intense spiritual effort and, by necessity, it keeps us looking inward to the Church much of the time.
But we’re here for the life of the world and that’s bigger than only the Church. If we are going to live all of our vocations to their greatest effect - breaking the bread and continuing prayers, striving for justice and recognition of the dignity of every human being, recognizing Christ in every one of our neighbours, demonstrating and exhorting care for the whole of God’s creation - the rest of us, all the laity and priests and bishops, need you, deacons, to tell us where we are most needed. We need you to go to into every corner of this diocese, carrying the light of Christ in one hand, a servant’s towel in the other, and the good news of the Gospel on your lips. And when you find people who are hungry, or lonely or in pain, tell those whose vocation is showing love through acts of mercy so that they can minister. When you meet people on the fringes of society who have been forgotten by nearly everyone, tell those whose vocation is hospitality so that they can be made welcome. When you meet those who desire new life in Christ, who are weighed down by sin that needs washing away, who are starving for communion with their God, bring them to us or bring us to them, but for the literal love of God, bring us together so that we can be the Body of Christ in this world that the Church is meant to be.
The People of God need deacons. The Church needs deacons. The world needs deacons. When you set out from this cathedral into a world that will not welcome you, go fearlessly with the zeal of Simon, the hope of Jude, the prayers of the Church, and with Christ before you every step of the way.
A video recording of this sermon is available here.
