A Very Episcopalian Thanksgiving [Thanksgiving B]

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The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson
1 Timothy 2:1-7

A Very Episcopalian Thanksgiving

Perhaps you saw the cartoon, in the newspaper or on facebook.  In it a man and woman, both wearing combat helmets, are considering their Thanksgiving gathering – no small consideration in such a divided and partisan time.  They have everything pertaining to the big family meal laid out on a giant white board – where they will seat the liberals, and the Trump supporters, and the even the vegans – under the title Operation: Seating Chart. The man in the cartoon articulates their ultimate strategy for us, the audience, saying: “Aunt Millie is an Alt-Righter & cousin Jimmy is a Socialist, but if we sit the Episcopalians between all of them, I think we have a shot at keeping the peace.”

I love it because I think it says something really profound about our Episcopal tradition.  And it is not that Episcopalians are naturally neutral.  We’re Episcopalians and so we know Episcopalians have strong feelings about the state of politics in our country.  We also know that not all Episcopalians are of one mind when it comes to politics.  Any given Sunday these pews hold a shockingly broad spectrum of political ideologies – and, by the way, I am proud of that; I think that is a powerful witness in our nation.  There are members of this very congregation who would happily argue just about every side of every controversy.  I’ve seen them do it on facebook, so I know what I’m talking about here.  

So that’s not it.  It’s not that we are disengaged, less informed, or lack meaningful opinions.  And it’s not that we’re just nicer than other folks.  It’s not even that Episcopalians are conflict avoidant.  Our Church, the Episcopal Church, has actually taken strong stances on a number of controversial issues.

And still, the cartoon.  Not a cartoon run on some Episcopal Church website.  But a syndicated political cartoon run in newspapers across the nation.  The Episcopalians seated in the middle, living in that space between, occupying the deep divide that plagues our nation.

I think the cartoon captures a principle at the very heart of our identity as Episcopalians, as Anglicans: the via media, the middle way.  Our path, according to an old Anglican maxim, is “not compromise for the sake of peace, but comprehension for the sake of truth, and the goal not uniformity but unity.”[1] 

It is similar to what we find in our reading from 1 Timothy today.  In it the writer urges the Church to offer supplications, prayers, intercessions and thanksgivings for everyone – even for kings and those in positions of authority.  Political leaders are specifically mentioned in the text because those would be the ones for whom it would be most difficult for the early Christians to offer their prayers.  Those early Christians were being hunted by the authorities and while they were on the run from them, they were also praying for them.  Those Christians were not about the compromise; there was no compromise to be had; they were practicing Gospel love, a love that they believed had the power to drive out the hate in their world.  Love was the possibility in an impossible situation.  

The writer was calling the Church to pray for the nation and its leaders even while the Church was a force of resistance within a hostile Empire – because love demanded both prayer and resistance.  The Church was called to pray for Caesar even as they declared Jesus, and not Caesar, as Lord.  They found creative ways to live at peace with their neighbors so that they could also live as outlaws proclaiming the illegal love of Jesus.  

Creative, comprehensive, not easy.  Walking the middle way has never been the easy way.  It is like walking a tight rope.  For early Christians that walk was a life-or-death balancing act.  We can be thankful that for most of us, it is not.

As members of this big tent church we call Grace and St. Stephen’s, as Episcopalians, our witness in a divided nation is this middle way - “not compromise for the sake of peace, but comprehension for the sake of truth, and the goal not uniformity but unity.”[2]  We will not all agree; we might even disagree passionately; that is OK.  We can still worship together and love each other, despite our differences.  We can still eat together at the Lord’s Table, and still comfort each other when we hurt, and still rejoice with each other when we celebrate.  Jesus does not command us to agree with each other; Jesus does command us to love each other.

If you find yourself sitting between Aunt Millie and Cousin Jimmy today at your Thanksgiving dinner, that is because you have been seated there for a reason.  You are one of those odd Episcopalians; and that via media, that middle way: it is in your blood.  Your witness in your divided world, your divided nation, your divided family is your ability choose love in the midst of disagreement, to practice love in the midst of brokenness. 

It is your job to remember what we all have in common: we are all, each and every person, even the ones who are definitely wrong, made in the image of God, are all worthy of respect and dignity.  Their political opinions might not be worthy of respect but they are.  God loves Aunt Millie and Cousin Jimmy equally – with an infinite and impossible love.  No matter how far to the right or left of you they might be, they cannot go far enough to escape God’s love. 

There is something more important than the politics that divide us; I know it doesn’t always feel like it, but it is true.  Politicians will let you down.  Political parties: they will let you down.  Twenty-four hour news networks will let you down.  Long after Twitter goes the way of MySpace, long after even the most infuriating headlines line birdcage floors, long after the two parties have faded into history, the love of God will remain.  Things come and things go, but love never ends.  Love is the thing that fills the great divide.  Live there.  That is your witness in a divided world.  Be the person at the table who sees the image of God in every face, who respects the dignity of every person, who has the courage to love – even when the gravy starts flying.    





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