The Vespers liturgy suggests a homily at this point, but it strikes
me that one more homily might be a bit of a put-off for people in
your line of work. Let’s be honest: you are treated to more than
your share of homilies, so perhaps this evening you will be happy
for something more in the nature of a welcome….
It is a joy
and a privilege to welcome you to this cathedral, this holy place
that, for 115 years now has - along with a few other churches - been
the very heart and soul of Christian worship in this city of
Seattle, this ‘left coast’ city, this city at the far edge of the
continent, this city that is on the cutting edge of so much that is
happening in the world today.
I called
this place holy, and so it is. And sacred music is one of the things
that makes it holy, and sacred music is one of the defining
characteristics of this cathedral church. We make music in this
place – a lot of music (there are over 850 liturgies with music
celebrated here each year). We make music in this place, beautiful
music, but I would quickly want to add that music makes us, too! We
make music, even as music makes us.
Let me
preach to the choir for a moment. Let me belabor the obvious because
it’s apparently not all that obvious. Music is no incidental add-on,
no luxury to be purchased only after all the bills are paid for
buildings and their maintenance and upkeep, or after all the
educational programs for children, families, and, adults and all the
outreach ministries to the poor and the needy are funded. No, music
is integral to everything we do as church: music forms us and shapes
us, it uplifts and consoles us, it gladdens our hearts and revives
our drooping spirits. Music gives us a glimpse of heaven, and it
greatly enhances the entire human landscape which is a barren
wasteland indeed without the beautiful. Speaking for this cathedral
of St. James - but I’m quite sure I speak for your churches, too - I
can honestly say that we would never be the community we are – never
be the Christians we are called to be -- without the beautiful music
which we make here day after day.
I have long
believed this to be true but, believe it or not, the pandemic –
upending everything as it did - proved it for me. We, like every
other Church in the world, were incalculably diminished by the
restrictions necessitated by the pandemic, including the silencing
of choirs and the elimination of congregational singing. Happily,
organs were not transmitters of the virus, so all was not lost! Here
at St. James our wonderful organs helped to compensate for the loss
of so much that was familiar, so much that was beautiful. And then
came that memorable Sunday when there was at last something
approaching a critical mass of people in the pews and the
congregation was finally allowed to sing – albeit through our masks.
After a particularly rousing hymn of praise with full organ—I
believe the tune was Nettleton - we all broke into spontaneous
applause!
For the first
time in over a year, we were really fired-up: energized for our
mission. Why? Well, because the prayers we pray and the music we
make in this Cathedral have everything to do with what happens when
we leave here. You know this well, but let me say it anyway: there
is a connection, a vital connection, between worship and service.
And communities that celebrate the liturgy well tend to be
communities that are alive when it comes to serving the poor and
needy, and advocating on their behalf.
At the base of the oculus
over the altar of this cathedral—not so easily read now, with the
Pentecost hangings still in place - are words of Jesus taken from
Luke’s Gospel in the twenty-second chapter, “I am in your midst as
one who serves.” These Last Supper words proclaim the presence of
Jesus in the midst of the assembly whenever we gather to celebrate
the Eucharist. But they also proclaim the truth that the Eucharist
really comes alive outside these walls – in the service we do when
we leave this place, especially service of the poor.
Which brings
me to that wonderful passage from Ephesians we just heard, which
reminded us that we are not “strangers or aliens;” no, we are
“fellow citizens of the saints, members of the household of God, a
building, a holy temple, dwelling places for God in the Spirit.” It
is in places like this cathedral, and in your cathedrals and
churches, that we receive the divine anointing to do what Jesus did,
“to bring glad tidings to the lowly, to heal the broken-hearted, to
proclaim liberty to captives and release to prisoners, to announce a
year of favor from the Lord.”
Without good
liturgy (which of necessity includes good music) this committed
proclamation of the gospel of love and service simply will not take
place. Or if it does take place, it will be weak and diluted,
lacking in truth, lacking in integrity. I cannot prove this for you
(and I doubt that you need me to!), but I deeply believe it, and
there is more than ample evidence to corroborate it.
Many people have
come here over the past 115 years to bless this place, and since the
completion of a major renovation in 1994 we have made a concerted
effort to invite just about every person and group imaginable to
come here to bestow their own unique blessing as they engage in
worship or enjoy the wonderful array of musical concerts and
performances which take place here through the year. These people
have, I feel sure made this holy place even holier by their
presence.
I hope you,
the members of the American Guild of Organists, will consider
yourselves a part of this ongoing blessing of St. James Cathedral.
Your presence here this evening is a tangible blessing, I assure
you. The mosaic in the stone floor of the west narthex proclaims
this place to be the House of God and the Gate of Heaven. It is
that, of course, and it is also the house for God’s people. And it
is surely an even holier place today because you are here. Welcome!
Father Michael G. Ryan
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