Reflections on Joy and Bishop Hobart

Bishop John Henry Hobart

Rev. Molly F. James
John Henry Hobart, September 12, 2019
Chapel of our Lord, Episcopal Church Center
Psalm 78:3-7; Titus 1:7-9; John 17: 11b-19

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

“I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves.” Joy made complete. That warms my heart and brings a smile to my face. Something I need this week. Yesterday was 9/11, always a hard day in our family. Our cousin Ben worked in the South Tower and died in the attacks. It is a day that simultaneously reminds me of what horrors and evil humanity is capable of, as well as what grace, goodness, and self-sacrifice. And as some of you know, this anniversary comes on the heels of losing an uncle and a dear family friend. In the midst of the grief and loss, it could be easy for me to give into the fear and anxiety, particularly since so many of our news headlines just seem to add to a culture of division and cruelty. A culture that chooses to believe there is never enough and that invites us to focus on what is lacking rather than the abundance and possibility that surround us.


Given that temptation, it is a good day to celebrate the life and ministry of John Henry Hobart. Our lessons today remind us that God is with us, and that God desires our joy to be complete. This emphasis on joy and possibility is also found in the life of Bishop Hobart. He was in leadership at a time when the Church was in decline, and its future and stability in the wake of the American Revolution was a real question. He had a choice, he could have given into a mindset of fear and scarcity. He could have been inwardly focused and bemoaned the losses. He was not. He chose hope and possibility. He trained more clergy, he planted churches, and engaged in mission. Now, Hobart was not perfect, we may not like his tactics, and we should acknowledge the imperialist manner in which he ministered to the Oneida Indians. I am not advocating for a wholesale imitation of Hobart. I do think his spiritual mindset and focus on hope is worth noting.


Hobart admonished one of his congregations to be: “Humble, submissive, penitent, and obedient, let us seek, by fervent prayer, that divine illumination and grace by which our faith will daily become more strong and triumphant, and our obedience daily more sincere and holy, until our faith shall terminate in the vision of the transcendent brightness of the divine glory, and our obedience in the rewards of perfect and eternal bliss.”*


This sermon reminds us of the daily challenge we face as followers of Jesus. It is the choice to keep striving, keep seeking after God or to give into fear. Hobart reminds us that it is not about our accomplishments, it is about our mindset. How do we see the world? Where is our focus?


My father-in-law was fond of quoting Abraham Lincoln, who said that people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. Of course, our lives and emotions are more complicated and nuanced than that saying. And there is also some truth to it. What our mindset is matters. Are we convicted in our faith, are we seeking for our joy to be made more complete? Are we looking for possibility? Are we holding on to hope, even when fear is knocking at our door?


Remember that passage in Deuteronomy 30:15-20 where the people of Israel are given the choice been life and death? “See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. . . I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life . . .” We have the same invitation, each and every day. The question is, will we choose fear and death? Will we choose to focus our energy and attention on that which brings us pain and sorrow? Or will we choose life? Will we chose hope and possibility? Will we choose to move forward in faith, trusting in the abundant, abiding love of God, and seeking out that which brings us joy? 

And I think it is important to note that joy is more than happiness. I wonder if Abraham Lincoln really meant to say joyful. Happiness can be superficial. Joy is happiness and more. It is deep and profound. It is a feeling in our bones, in our whole bodies. Not just a smile on our face.


I hope that we will stay strong in our faith, and that all of us have the support and encouragement to choose each and every day that which gives life to us and to the world. AMEN.

*(from Sermon 1, “The Illuminating Power of the Gospel“, Parochial Sermons in The Posthumous Works of the Late Right Reverend John Henry Hobart, D.D., Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New-York, 1832.)

Remembering 9/11

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

17 Pentecost, Proper 19C: 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-10

September 11, 2016

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

It was a bright, sunny Tuesday with clear, blue sky when our cousin Ben went to work in his office at The Fiduciary Trust company on the 97th floor of the South Tower of the World Trade Center.  At first it seemed like any other day. There were tasks to be accomplished and appointments to be kept. A few minutes before 9 am, it became clear that it was a day like no other. Someone whose office window faced the other tower, came to tell him that a plane had hit the North Tower. The office began to evacuate. Our cousin Ben was a tall and imposing man, a natural leader with a generous heart. Beyond his regular job, he had been designated to be an emergency manager for his office. He helped his colleagues down to the 44th floor where they were able to get people onto elevators. Ben ensured the elevators were full and then stepped back. He walked down the remaining floors to street level. On the concourse where there were lots of emergency personnel, and he stopped to talk to them. He wanted to know what was going on. Minutes later the towers collapsed. His body was found right next to a fireman. We know the story of how Ben died because of all those he helped that day and because our family was one of the fortunate ones that had a body to bury. 

I think about Ben often. He was my mother’s first cousin. He had kids close to my brother and me in age, and we spent a lot of time together when we were kids - big Thanksgiving dinners and ski trips to New Hampshire. Ben had a wonderful sense of humor and a flair for the eccentric. He drove a purple Volvo with a pink pinstripe. Ben knew how to find joy in the present moment.

And of course, I think about Ben on this day. It is hard to believe it has been 15 years since September 11, 2001. Today will be a day of stories and remembering. Thousands of us have loved ones who connect us deeply to the tragedy of this day. Everyone over the age of 20 likely has a story of where we were when we learned the news. The images of the smoking and crumbling towers, of the damaged Pentagon and that field in Shanksville, PA are etched into our minds and hearts. While it is a day of sadness and grief, I also believe it can be a day of hope and transformation. It is a day that invites us to take stock of our lives and to live in a new way. 

There are thousands of stories like Ben’s. Stories of regular people who embodied compassion, generosity, and a sense of our shared humanity on that day. Small actions, like helping them on to the elevator or down the stairs. Actions that meant someone else got to go home and hug their kids that night. Think of all those phone calls and text messages sent by those who knew they would not survive. They said, “I am sorry.” They said, “Thank you.” They said, “I love you.” Innumerable witnesses to the fundamental goodness of humanity. The terrible evil that inspired the horrific acts of violence on that day did not have the last word. If we are paying attention, the messages of love and generosity speak far louder. 

And the world needs those stories and those messages. We need to be reminded that Love is stronger than death. We need to be reminded that Hope is stronger than fear. We need to be reminded that violence is not the solution to our problems. Divisions are not healed by attacking those who differ from us. 

I don’t know about you all, but I spent the afternoon and the evening of September 11, 2001 reaching out and connecting with those who mattered most to me. It was a day that reminded me of two very important truths that ought to always be at the forefront of my mind. First, we never know how long we have; life is short and risky. Second, relationships matter more than anything else. 

Interestingly, I think these truths are also at the heart of our Gospel today. Today we have the familiar story of Jesus searching for the lost sheep, and the woman searching for the lost coin. There is a sense of urgency in the Gospel. What has been lost is precious, and it must be found. There is no time to waste. We must focus on that which is most important. 

It is a parable that is meant to show us how much we matter to God. We are the sheep and Jesus is the shepherd. And yet it can be a human story too. It can just as easily be applied to our relationships with each other.  We all have people in our lives with whom our connection is essential. People who matter so much that we would drop everything and give of ourselves to ensure that we do not lose that connection. 

The juxtaposition of our Gospel and the anniversary of the tragic events of 9/11 give us much food for thought today. Life is short. We never know how long we have, and so we must ask ourselves the question of how we want to be remembered? What are the stories we want people to tell about us after we are gone? How have we cultivated relationships and sought to build connections? 

The thing that brings me up short in reflecting on our Gospel today and on the final hours of my cousin Ben’s life, is that he went seeking after anyone who needed help. He wasn’t just helping his best friend or a family member. He worked in a huge office. No doubt there were many people he guided to safety with whom he might not have ever even had a conversation. There were no favorites. 

Ben’s actions, and the actions of countless others that day, call me to a higher standard. They call me to seek out those who differ from me. Those who are currently strangers. As people of faith we are not just called to strengthen our ties with those whom we know and love, we are called to go seeking after those who are not in our inner circle. We are called to reach out and to contribute to the flourishing of ALL people. 

It is my prayer that we will have the courage and the grace to reach out and to seek after new relationships. May we follow the example of our Lord and Savior and live into the higher standard to which we are called. May we make the best use of whatever time we have left on this earth, so that the stories that are told about us long after we are gone are stories that inspire. 

AMEN. 

Good News for Today

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

Chapel of the Lord, Episcopal Church Center

Micah 6:6–8; Psalm 43; Luke 4:14–21

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the Living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Good news to the poor. Release to the captives. Sight to the blind. The oppressed go free. A year of the Lord’s favor. The Good News of our Gospel lesson this morning is good news indeed. I find myself particularly grateful for it, on multiple levels. 

The news headlines have been pretty overwhelming lately. From the destruction of Hurricane Dorian to yet another mass shooting. And news headlines are not always distant and global. No doubt many of us know people in the predicted or in the actual path of Dorian’s destruction. Our family learned yesterday that a dear friend and her husband were among the victims in that boat fire in California. And no doubt we have headlines in our local news about violence and tragedy in our own communities. The nature of news today means that it rarely matters whether or not it is a global headline or a personal one. We hear intimate, personal stories of violence either way, and they are tragic and painful. The speed and agility of communication in the 21st century means that we hear about the poor, the captives, the blind, and the oppressed in our own neighborhoods and in neighborhoods on the other side of the world. The sheer magnitude of human suffering is overwhelming. 

This is why we need the Good News this morning. We need to be reminded that God is at work in the world. That this prophecy of Isaiah that is retold by Jesus, does not just apply to Ancient Israel nor to the Palestine of Jesus’ day. It applies to us too. We need to be reminded of the stories that so rarely make the headlines. Stories of the hundreds and thousands of men and women around the world who dedicate their lives to feeding the hungry and caring for the disabled. Of lawyers and activists who give their time to help the oppressed and captives go free.  

I also think this is a prophecy that matters on a deeper, more personal level. It is Good News that can have a real impact in our own hearts and in our own lives. If we take Jesus’ words on a more metaphorical level, how might they apply to us as individuals? Are there places in our lives where we feel depleted or run dry? Are we suffering from a poverty of spirit? Are we allowing ourselves to be held captive by fear? Do we feel oppressed in some way? Do we need to find a way to break free or at least to change how we are taking care of ourselves? 

What in our lives might be a stumbling block for us? What might be preventing us from more deeply engaging in relationship with God or with each other? How might we see today’s Gospel as an invitation to move into a different future? What burdens might it be time for us to lay down? Are there amends we need to make? Or do we need to do a better job of surrounding ourselves with people who recognize our gifts and who help us to thrive? 

No doubt each of us could use a little Good News, a little transformation, a little restoration and reconciliation somewhere in some part of our lives. I hope that today, we can hear the Good News of our Scripture. We can take comfort in Micah's reminder that God does not require us to make sacrifices of cattle or oil. What God desires from us is to live lives of humility that seek to promote justice in the world. I hope we can hear in that a call to be a part of creating a more just future for all people. 

And I hope that we can hear the generous invitations in Jesus’ prophecy. An invitation to live into a new and different future. An invitation to look for and to give thanks for the ways that this prophecy is being fulfilled on a local and a global level. And finally, I hope we can live into Jesus’ invitation to trust in God’s love. An invitation to trust in the hope and possibility of a new future. An invitation to let go of whatever burdens, whatever fears, whatever it is that might blind us to the depth of God’s love or hold us back from living into the fullness of who God has called us to be. 

I pray that each of us will have the courage, today, and every day, to step out in faith, into a new future, trusting that the Good News of God in Christ is real and meant for each one of us.
AMEN.