Service, by the Rev. Dr. Paul S. Nancarrow

This sermon is based on Isaiah 58:1-9a, (9b-12)

As I was reading over the passage from Isaiah which is our first reading today, as I was preparing to preach, it occurred to me that in our contemporary Episcopal Church we often use one particular word to mean two very different things.

Now this is a bit unusual in church life, because in the Episcopal Church we usually use very specific and special words for things. In fact, visitors and newcomers to the Episcopal Church often say that getting used to our specialized vocabulary can be a bit of a steep learning curve. We invite people to gather in the “narthex” or the “chancel,” without stopping to think that these are words for places that people might not use in their ordinary everyday speech. When I’m leading instructed Eucharists, I often point out that we place on the table a cup and a plate — we call them a “chalice” and a “paten,” because in church we use special names for things, but really they’re a cup and a plate — and over them we put a clean napkin — we call it a “purificator,” but it looks and acts just like a nice, clean napkin. One of the characteristics of the Episcopal way of being Christian that we tend to enjoy and our neighbors tend to wonder about is all the precise and technical terminology we have for the objects and actions and traditions of church life.

Which makes it kind of surprising to realize that we regularly use one particular word to mean two very different things in the life and action of our church. That word is “service.” Think about it: “service” is the word we use to cover all those works and acts and ministries we do out there in the world. In our Baptismal Covenant we promise to “seek and serve Christ in all persons,” and the Church lives out that promise in classic works of Christian service like feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, housing the homeless, healing the sick, reaching to the marginalized, speaking out on behalf of those who have no voice — all of those are forms of Christian service in the world. “Service” is the word we use for all the outward-directed, making-the-world-a-better-place things we do as a church.

But “service” is also the word we use for what we have all come here in the church to do right now. We call this activity we are engaged in at this very moment a worship service. At Trinity we often talk about how on Sunday mornings we have three services, a 7:45 service, an 8:45 service, and an 11 o’clock service, and we refer to them by those titles as if they were proper names. We use the word “service” to indicate the different kinds of liturgies we do: the service of Holy Communion, the service of Morning Prayer, the service of Evensong, the service of Lessons and Carols, the services of Holy Week. “Service” is the word we use for the different sorts of inward-directed, lifting-up-our-hearts-to-God things we do as a church.

And as I was preparing to preach this week, it suddenly struck me as odd that in the Episcopal Church, where we spend so much time and energy on getting just the one right technical term for every specialized and particular thing, we should use the one word “service” to cover such a broad and varied field of meanings.

Or maybe it’s not so odd. Maybe the fact that we use this one word for different meanings is itself a pointer to the fact that these different meanings are bound together in one deep and powerful reality.

And that’s what I saw in the Isaiah passage that is our first reading today. In this passage the prophet points out just how damaging — and how damning — it is when the service of God in worship and the service of work in the world become disconnected from each other. The prophet speaks about fasting — which, along with sacrifice, was a central element in Temple worship in Jerusalem as it was restored after the Return from Exile. Fasting with prayer was a primary ceremonial way of drawing close to God. Yet the prophet is very clear that the people’s service of worship in fasting is missing something: “Is this what you call a fast?” the prophet says on behalf of God, “to bow your head, and put on sackcloth, and wear ashes, all go through the proper, expected ceremonial motions — and yet at the same time to serve your own interests, and oppress all your workers, and quarrel and fight, and strike with a wicked fist? Is this what you call a fast?” the prophet says. No, if you’re going to fast, the prophet says, then fast all the way; if you’re going to do the ceremonial service of worship, then serve all the way, and live out your ceremony in practical service in the world. If you’re going to humble yourself with fasting, then live out your humility by letting the oppressed go free, and breaking the yoke of bondage, and not indulging your arrogance and your violence and your lust for power. If you’re going to give up your food in fasting, then live out your giving by offering your food to the hungry and satisfying the needs of the afflicted. If you’re going to draw near to God in the service of worship, the prophet says, then let God draw near to you, to make your light break forth, and your healing spring up, and your bones be strong, and your streets be restored — so that you may be empowered in all ways to live out God’s work of service in the world.

Our first reading today gives us a powerful vision of how the service of worship and service in the world are not two different things, but are deeply related to each other, integral aspects of the single reality of God’s mission for justice and peace and compassion and love. And that vision is powerful for us today, too. Now in today’s Episcopal Church, to be sure, we don’t think of our worship so much under the image of fasting, as Isaiah did for Temple worship in Jerusalem. For us today the dominant image of worship is not so much the fast as it is the feast. The Holy Eucharist, our principal act of worship on the Lord’s Day, is a symbolic and sacramental feast, a reminder of the Seder feast Jesus had with his disciples before his crucifixion, and of the meals he shared with his apostles after the Resurrection, and it is a pointer to the Great Feast, the Wedding Feast, the Messianic Banquet, which was Jesus’ favorite parable for what God wants the world to be. Every Sunday, we say, is a feast day. And for us, too, as for Isaiah, our ceremonial service of worship in feasting is meant to lead us to practical service in the world to share that feast with everyone.

It is because we are nourished and sustained with spiritual food here in this Eucharistic feast that we are empowered to nourish and sustain others through Noon Lunch and SACRA and the Valley Mission. It is because we receive the word of forgiveness and wholeness and healing here in this Eucharistic feast that we are empowered to bring healing and wholeness to others through the Free Clinic and Episcopal Relief and Development and the Millennium Development Goals. It is because we are filled with abundant life here in this Eucharistic feast that we are sent out, individually and collectively, sent out to work and share and advocate and build and serve, in all the different ways available to us, so that others may come to feast in God’s gift of abundant life, too.

For us here at Trinity, our service of worship and our service in the world are deeply intertwined aspects of the single reality of God’s gift to us. In fact, I often tell people that that is one of the things I admire most about this congregation: that we hold together in balance our worship and our work, our service of God in liturgy and music and beauty and our service of God’s world in outreach and ministry and mission. Holding those two things together is what gives us life; holding those two things together is what makes us salt for the earth and light for the world; holding those two things together is what attracts new people to want to come be a part of this dynamic church community; holding those two things together is what opens the way for our church to grow ever deeper into God’s mission for us.

May God be with us in our service of worship and our service in the world, so that we may share with every creature the feast of the riches of God’s grace. Amen.