Deacon John Payne
St. Louis Church

It has been almost three years since hurricane Katrina forever changed the people and the land of the American Gulf Coast – in fact, 1,836 people died; 700-1,000 people are still missing; approximately 851 thousand homes were damaged, destroyed, or rendered inaccessible; and 900 churches, synagogues, and mosques were damaged or destroyed.  In many cases, all that remains of some of them is the concrete slab on which it was built.  And presently, many of these churches are still just that — a slab and a memory.  On one of those slabs, someone has posted a sign that reads: “St. Clare Catholic Church meets here.”

There are over 145 varieties of cactus plants known as “living stones”, because they are often mistaken for actual stones.  In today’s second reading, the church is described as living stones founded on the cornerstone of Jesus Christ.  In fact, each of the readings for today’s liturgy makes a similar point: as the people of the Gulf Coast have learned, the church is not the building, but is rather, the people who gather together in the name of Jesus.  These living stones, as we read, form a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people who are called God’s own.  There is no talk of pews or pulpit, bricks or mortar or stained glass.  The church, in its essence, is the breathing, pulsating organism that forms when lives are intertwined by faith and service.

The first reading from Acts affirms a fundamental aspect of the church’s identity and mission.  The early church had a problem and needed to respond to the disadvantaged among them.  So deacons were appointed in order to meet their needs.  Widows were especially needy; even their name spoke of their circumstances.  In Hebrew, the word for widow means “unable to speak,”  and in Greek, the word means “forsaken” or “left empty.”   Of course, the widow had the capability of speech, but with no one to listen to her, she was relegated to her “silence”.  Therefore, the first task of the earliest deacons was to be the voice that would speak out for the rights of widows, and the hands, that would tend to their needs and the needs of their children. The church was growing and changing in recognition of its mission.

And, hopefully, so are we.  So in a sense, there are over 2500 living stones right here in the Church of St. Louis.  We, the people, as living stones, come together as church because of our common baptism in Christ, and consequently we are bound to one another in service.  Our daily agenda as church, should, therefore, be meeting the needs of each other — and, in particular, of those among us who are disadvantaged.

Ancient myths of some cultures include stories about the labyrinth or maze. The labyrinth was an obstacle course of confusing patterns, through which a person must find their way to the exit — or not. In a way, it is a parable of our journey through life, which has long and short, straight and crooked paths, and offers both obvious and obscure choices.

The truth beneath these myths is the reality of everyday life for each one of us.  Life, at times, seems to be a maze, and our task is to make some sense of its random events, to find some pattern in the chaos.  Our life purpose is to find a way to safety -- to salvation.  Along the way, we are inevitably confronted by questions, whose answers make our progress easier or harder.  The questions come from other people, from the challenges we face, from our failures, and our joys — they come in all disguises.  At times, life seems impossible, and we, like Thomas, ask, “How can we know the way?”

In today’s gospel, Jesus is saying goodbye and prepares the disciples for continuing the mission he has begun. It reveals the tenderness and compassion of Jesus for his own.  Even though he was only hours away from death, his concern was not for himself, but for those who would be forced to struggle with his death and absence, their Katrina event.  His advice for his disciples remains apropos for us today: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith in me also.”  This faith is the basis of every good work that we do: “Whoever believes in me will do the works that I do … and will do greater ones than these, because I am going to the Father.”  Then Jesus promised that he would forever be the way, the truth, and the life for us.  Those in search of authentic meaning in their lives, as well as those burdened by doubt or fear, can find every answer to every question in Jesus.

This is often easier said than done -- but as church, we can do this together -- ours is a communal effort.  We are called to be living stones, built together into a spiritual house.  We are not left alone to try to make the way, the truth and the life of Jesus our own.  You don’t build a house out of a single stone.  Nor do we worship in isolation; we do not eat alone at the table of this Eucharist.  We are church.  In our varying degrees of stewardship, with our different talents, and in spite of our faults and failings, we are the people, who, when we gather in the name of Jesus, become the holy place where we, and others, can experience God’s presence.  Because of God’s presence within us, because of this Eucharist that we celebrate and receive, our efforts in the ministry of Jesus will go forward until he comes again.

John Wesley, the Anglican minister, was once asked by a member of his congregation, “What can I do to prepare to meet Jesus?”  Wesley replied, “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.”

We the people of St. Louis Church must continue to be living stones – our identity is not found in the lifeless brick and mortar shell in which we gather.  We are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people who are called God’s own.