Homily on the Aid of our Lady, The Blessed Virgin Mary

The Rev'd Tommy Thompson

St. Clement's Church, Philadelphia

Sunday Vespers and Benediction

24 September 2017, 4pm

In the Name of the one true God: The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  Amen.

Greetings to you in the Name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It is a high honor to be here with you on this day as we celebrate the clemency of our Holy Mother – the Queen of heaven, the Sweet Virgin Birth-giver of God.  

As I reflect on the meaning of the very title, “Our Lady of Clemency,” I’m struck by the persuasive power of our Lady- that her very presence as an intercessor of sinners grants to us a position before God that is truly undeserved.  That’s what clemency is all about, after all, isn’t it.  To be granted clemency means to be granted a lesser punishment that what our actions deserve, or to be pardoned altogether. 

I am reminded of those times as a child, when I’d stay overnight at my grandparent’s house in Nashville, TN.  We were always up to something, us boys.  There was always some new level of mischief for us to unlock, so to speak.  And somehow, some way, my dad would never fail to learn of the trouble we made.  Just as he was ready to let us have it, my sweet grandmother would step in.  As his mother she had a way with my dad that no one else did.  She could get us out of anything.  She was always the comforting, motherly caregiver.  She made us appear more angelic than we really were or than we ever deserved.  “Now, don’t be so hard on them – they’re just boys.  It is okay.  I talked to them.  They know better. They won’t do it again…”  Her pleas that spared our rear ends (literally) produced the desire, at the very least, to strive do better next time.

There is just something about a mother or a grandmother, isn’t there?.  Her entire life is a life of hospitality for her children.  And her children know that their mother is a place of receptivity, warmth, and safety--an open space where they can be and grow without fear.  Children instinctively know that it is from the bosom of their mother that they will be nurtured to life and grow and flourish in the world into which their mother nursed them…

I like the way Orthodox theologian Sergius Bulgakov describes the Mother of our Lord: “The Mother of God stands between heaven and earth.  She intercedes for the world and offers our petitions before the altar of God’s throne.  She is love and compassion, mercy and care, intercessor and defender.  She does not judge, but has compassion for everyone.  Hers is not to be the righteous judge, or the judge of righteousness, but to intercede as a mother.  And at her Son’s awesome tribunal she intercedes on our behalf with the Righteous Judge to ask for forgiveness.” 

Hers is not to be the righteous judge…but to intercede as a mother.  That was the comfort I received from my grandmother who had the power to get us off the hook time and time again, and that is the comfort we receive from our Lady to whom we pray, “O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.” 

The Mother of God and Queen of heaven cares for and loves the world so much because the world is inseparable from her holy Son Jesus Christ our Lord.  This week as I was preparing for tonight’s sermon I was awestricken as I gazed upon the icon of our Lady and our Lord known as the “Sweet Kissing Icon.” It is the most tender icon we could ever read, emphasizing the tender and trusting relationship between the Virgin Mary and the Christ Child. 

As you gaze into the icon, you see her love...her protective gaze...nothing will come between her and her Son and his holy mission.  She holds Jesus there...every icon of Mary we have she’s with Jesus.  And if anyone understands the incarnation, it is Mary.  She knows what and who she holds as she embraces Jesus with such tenderness – she holds the world – His passion – in her very bosom. 

Isn’t that the beauty of the mystery of the incarnation? In Jesus Christ, God has taken upon Godself the flesh of the whole of humanity.  Jesus represents us all before the Father.  He is the new humanity.  The Blessed Virgin Mary, does not therefore only hold her son in this icon, but she holds the world for which he was born and for whom he died and rose again.  We all are right there in the arms of the most loving mother and she will not let anything come between her and her Son, the new humanity.

Bulgakov goes on to say, “If only human eyes could perceive the Mother of God’s presence in the world, they would know what transfiguration is mysteriously taking place.  If they could only see her tears, their cruel hearts would be shaken into warmth.  For no heart is so frozen as to remain unmelted in the face of her loving care” 

One thing I’ve learned as I’ve watched my wife become an amazing and loving mother is that there is nothing like the love of a mother.  When a child is hurt, the mother feels her pain in her own soul.  When a child is joyful, the mother’s heart is full.  This is the love our Lady has towards us.  I like the way Alexander Schmemann puts it: “As Mother, she brings into her own heart all our sorrows, all our sufferings, all unbearable pain of our earthly existence” (Schmemman, The Virgin Mary, 36). 

May our eyes of faith be opened that we may see our Lady for all she is.  She pleads for our pardon – for clemency.  She will not let anything stand between her and her Son.  May we not forget that because she holds her Son in her bosom, she holds us in her bosom - for whole world is inseparable from her Son, we are his mission – his passion, therefore we are her mission and passion.  And may such a vision of our Lady of Clemency’s loving care for us engender faithfulness among us so that we might make our mother proud and her heart swell with joy! 

O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.   Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God – That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. 

In the Name of God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  Amen.

Homily on the Occasion of The Requiem Mass for Ms. Kimberly Kennedy

Father Tommy Thompson
St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Charlotte, NC
23 September 2017

Homily on the Occasion of The Requiem Mass for Ms. Kimberly Kennedy

In the Name of the one true God: the Father, + the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  Amen.  

In C.S. Lewis’ book, A Grief Observed, Lewis describes the cycle of grief as it revisits him as if it were the first day of his devastating loss:  “Tonight all the hells of young grief have opened again; the mad words, the bitter resentment, the fluttering in the stomach, the nightmare unreality, the wallowed-in tears.  For in grief nothing ‘stays put.’ One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs.  Round and round.  Everything repeats.  Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?  But if a spiral, am I going up or down it? How often – will it be for always? – how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, ‘I never realized my loss till this moment’? The same leg is cut off time after time.  The first plunge of the knife into the flesh is felt again and again.”  

Lewis’ words stand out in a world that so often only has pithy clichés to offer to the bereaved.  There is nothing stoic, upbeat, or happy about his book, A Grief Observed.  It is raw emotion on paper.   Lewis’ words explore the depths of his grief, and I find it to be a refreshing read because it takes grief seriously and doesn’t make the mistake our culture of denial so often does by moving too quickly to happy sayings or what we might call, dismissals of grief. 

Lewis’ book speaks to me in the same way, but to a lesser degree, that the Psalms speak to me.  The Psalms, the church’s first prayer book and hymnal, are also not all upbeat and happy.  They do not move us too quickly from a state of disorientation to orientation.  They do not beg us to ‘get over it already’ by offering heavenly platitudes.  The psalms are raw. They dare ask the obvious questions we’ve been told cannot be uttered by people of faith. The Psalms have no trouble throwing up their hands and just saying exactly how they feel to God.  “Why, God!?”  “How long, O Lord!?”  ““Why art thou so far from helping me!?”   The Psalms dare to believe God is big enough. They give us words to pray when all that seems to come out are cries and sighs.  So I commend the Psalms to you as you walk in grief and experience the sting of death.  

Glenn Pemberton wrote a book on the Psalms titled Hurting with God. In it, he noted that only 4% of his church’s hymnal includes prayers of lament – those authentic, raw, emotional cries to God. The Psalms, on the other hand, he says, are 40% lament.  By the sheer number of laments in the Psalms, and in the Bible in general, it would appear that one of it’s central messages is this very point: God invites his people to speak the truth of their lives, their pain, and their confusion to the One who can do something about it” (Pemberton). 

We live in a world that expects us to “get on with life,” to “sing songs that are upbeat and happy.”  Yet the world we live in is full of pain, suffering, and agonizing losses – like the loss we experience today as we mourn the loss of God’s dear daughter, Kimberly.  Too often the world finds itself in a state of disorientation. Folks may say ‘get on with life,’ or ‘busy yourself so that you don’t think about it,’ but God says, “Be real.  Raise your hands to the heavens and lament – cry – scream – shout! Give God the third degree…”  Because God is big enough.

And I know…we’ve been told, “Don’t question God…” and we’ve been taught to believe that by keeping all that bottled up inside and wearing a fake smile means that we are somehow people of faith, because people of faith don’t question God.  But isn’t it truly the other way around?  You see, …It is not those who lack faith who lament, who cry, scream, and even question God in the midst of suffering and loss,  No – It is a sign of a strong and vibrant faith to bring your most honest and passionate feelings to God!  You do not have to hide anything from God. God is big enough.  

Consider Jesus’ prayer in the midst of the darkness of the cross. He prayed one of the rawest prayers ever offered in human history by making Psalm 22 his own: “Why hast Thou forsaken me!?”  

There is such a heaviness about Jesus as we walk with him through the Gospels.  And that is because God entered so fully into the reality of our humanity – of our pain and suffering – that there was simply no time for “stoicism and its fake smiles” (Ibid.)  Jesus faced loss; Jesus faced sadness; Jesus faced darkness; Jesus faced death. It was only by embracing the darkness that the light overcame. It was only by entering the shadow of death that life sprung forth from the tomb.   So be real.  Be a human being in need of God’s healing touch, because God came not for those who are already well, but for those who are in need of the Divine Physician.  You do not have to pretend you have it all together.  That does not mean faith…it means something else entirely.

One thing I have learned in ministry is that God has a way of being present to those with tear filled eyes.  One of my favorite scenes from the gospels is that scene in John 20 where the risen Jesus comes into focus through the tear-filled eyes of Mary who mourns her Lord’s loss.  When he first appeared, she could not even recognize him. After all, as C.S. Lewis says, “You can’t see anything properly while your eyes are blurred with tears.” But the good news is that even when Mary, in her grief, could not recognize Jesus, Jesus recognized her, and he called her by name, and made himself known to her.  And she recognized the voice of her Good Shepherd.

I believe with all my heart that the same Jesus will meet you in the same way in the midst of your grief.  He will eventually come into focus through those tear-filled eyes of yours.  He will call you by name, and you’ll realize there wasn’t a moment he wasn’t right there beside you.  And he won’t dismiss you with platitudes.  He will walk with you through your grief as long as it takes, giving you the strength you need one day at a time.  

I imagine Jesus coming to into focus through Mary’s tear-filled eys.  Jesus’ resurrected body, so glorious, yet those scars so visible. Those blessed scars are the eternal gift and reminder to all of us that suffering, sadness, and pain is and will be redeemed.  Jesus has truly has gone and prepared a place for us in the grand house of God.  There is a place for us sinners in the eternal life of God because of what Jesus did through his life, death, resurrection and ascension.  God has given us a pledge of that which is to come by pouring out his life giving Spirit upon us so that we might find our home in the life of God even now. The Good news of the Gospel is that there is room for Kimberly in the life of the Triune God, and there is room for you there also…just as you are – with your sadness, anger, questions, doubts and all.   

Paul speaks of Jesus as the first fruits of those to rise from the dead.  What Jesus did on our behalf will also happen to all those who are in Christ.  Every time our risen Lord comes into focus, may you recognize the scars on that dazzling body and be filled with hope. May we join St. Chrysostom in exclaiming, 

Christ is risen! And you, o death, are annihilated!
Christ is risen! And the evil ones are cast down!
Christ is risen! And the angels rejoice!
Christ is risen! And life is liberated!
Christ is risen! And the tomb is emptied of its dead;
for Christ having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

You see, the venom of death’s sting might suspend happiness, but it simply cannot rid the faithful of the deep-seated joy that comes from knowing the power of love which overcame sin, death, and the grave.  Suffering and sorrow will continue.  There will be days where happiness seems like a long-lost friend, but the joy of the Lord will break through the darkness and illuminate your being with bright hope.  The same Jesus who came into focus behind Mary’s tear-filled eyes will come into focus through yours. 

In a few moments, you will be invited to the altar.  The Altar of our Lord has always represented that sepulcher in which our Lord was laid with its stone and linen cloths.  Today isn’t much different than that first Easter.  We gather at the place where his body was laid, where he offers himself, making room for us in the communion that God’s life is. May Jesus come into focus for you today as you hear those words, “The body of our Lord Jesus Christ which was given for Thee,  preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.”   And may your healing journey begin as you feed on the antidote to the venom of death’s sting.  May you be filled with joy even in the midst of sorrow, and may you find comfort that in our blessed communion with God, the whole body of Christ, living and dead, are mystically one in the ever crucified and risen One – Jesus Christ our Lord.

In the Name of God, The Father, + the Son, and the Holy Ghost.   Amen.