Ordination Sermon for Lou A. Bordisso

*Preached at Grace North Church January 26th, 2001.*

Our brother Lou is about to be ordained into the historic succession that stretches in an unbroken line from Jesus' hand to Charlie's. Kind of a scary thought, isn't it, Charlie? And yet that is the tradition that we keep alive, and to which we hold fast, and which we celebrate today with great joy. Each of us which has undergone this initiation has been charged with being a beacon on a hill, letting our light shine before others, to be salt, and to encourage saltiness in others.

But for too many people, the salt has lost its saltiness. The people whom Christ has charged to tend his flock have instead fleeced them, and there is much distrust of the clergy today. This is quite understandable, since for nearly two thousand years, the clergy have lifted themselves above the people they serve, have crafted of their sacred charge fifedoms and dominions, and have rivaled secualar kings and courts in their splendor and power. And many who serve smaller communities have, unfortunately, harbored pretentions to such power, and many have become parodies of themsleves. As a result of these abuses, we have lost much of our ability to season and influence, and our light has been nearly snuffed out.

Today, Lou, you will make an oath of obedience to Bishop Charles, but your greater allegiance is obedience to Jesus. The Gospel of St. Luke recalls that the disciples were arguing amongst themselves over which was the greatest. But he said to them, "The kings of the Gentiles lord it over themBut it shall not be so with you; rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves."

Having the mind of a servant is not so hard when you are a deacon, as it is the role of a deacon to serve. But you will not be a deacon for long, and keeping the mind of a servant becomes more difficult when one becomes a priest, and more difficult still when one becomes a bishop. But if we are to be effective, it is this "servant-mind" that we must cultivate and cherish.
I have been very fortunate in my ministry to be given two communities in which I have learned this lesson the hard way. For about five years I have been privileged to organize a community called the Festival of the Holy Names. For many years the Festival met as a Eucharistic community on a weekly basis. Most of us had come from abusive religious backgrounds, and in the context of this new community, we hoped to discover what a healthy Christian community might feel like. Towards this end, we set goals for ourselves and developed guidelines that we held to tenatiously. First of all, we eschewed clericalism: we recognized no clergy. Either everyone was a priest when they stepped through those doors or no one was. Second, we wanted to be radically egalitarian: anyone who wanted to could sign up for a future service and say mass. Dogs and all other animals were welcome at God's table. Third, liturgies had to address the needs of all those assembled: Every word, every line, every punctuation mark of every liturgy we used was open to discussion and revision at monthly planning meetings.

Now the Festival was largely my brainchild, and I had a definite vision for where I wanted it to go, and what I wanted it to accomplish. Silly me. I very quickly discovered that my carefully crafted liturgies were repleate with sexist and imperialistic assumptions I had been completely blind to. The Festival picked them apart mercilessly. My ego was crushed, and my wife and I nearly divorced over the wording of a new Lord's Prayer. I kid you not.

But somehow God gave me the grace to pursevere. I continued speaking my vision, putting my ideas and creativity out there, and about half the time, I got voted down. Now this was often discouraging, but in the end, it was the greatest blessing I could have received. For through this experience God taught me that being a real leader did not come through the exercising of power, but through the role of the prophet and the servant. I had no power to weild in that communty, and yet what I did possess was more than sufficient for the task: I had a vision, a voice to describe it, and one vote to help make it come about. But when the vote was taken, even if it did not go my way, I took it to mean that the Spirit had spoken, that my will and God's were not always the same, and that I still had much to learn.

I will forever be grateful for the gift of the Festival community, because it taught me what it meant to be a real leader. It is reported in one medieval Muslim manuscript that Jesus once said to his disciples, "If people appoint you as their head, be like their tails."

This principle is called "Leading by following," and reminding you of its truth is the most precious gift I can think of to give you today. In the Tao Te Ching, the most sacred of Taoism's scriptures, the author is writing specifically to a young prince, teaching him how to be a leader. In poem 17, we read,

"The best leader is one that the people are barely aware of. The next best is one who is loved and praised by the people. Next comes one who is feared. Worst is one who is despised. If the leader does not have enough faith in the people, they will not have faith in him. The best leader puts great value in words and says little, so that when his work is finished the people all say, 'We did it ourselves!'"

Here at Grace North Church we fancy ourselves a "Congregational Catholic" parish. What this means is that while we worship in an Anglo-Catholic fashion, the parish is actually run by the parishioners. Day-to-day business is handled by an elected Board, and major decisions are brought before the whole membership at quarterly parish meetings. As a result, the pastors have no administrative duties or responsibilities whatsover, and we are freed up to actually do our job, leading liturgy, visiting the sick, preaching and teaching. We call this "political celibacy of the clergy," and although sometimes things move at a snail's pace as we wait for consensus, the result is that there is very little room for abuses of power, and in this parish, at least, the clergy retian some of their saltiness.

That freedom extends both ways. For while the people are free to govern as they see fit, we clergy are free to speak the truth as we see it. There is nothing I can say from this pulpit which would, by itself, get me fired, and believe me, that is a freedom I have sorely tested over the years. What results from these tandem freedoms is a trust and appreciation between the people and their pastors which I have rarely seen.

Lou, as you are ordained into the historic succession today, you gain no magical powers, no hocus-pocus, no divine stamp of approval, no occult edge over the rest of humanity. What you gain is the trust of a community that extends mystically through time from the apostles to the present, and you gain the trust of a contemporary community of peers who say, "We see God's call in you, and we entrust ourselves to your care." It is an awesome and terrible responsibility. Jesus' most dire warnings are reserved for those who would deign to lead others spiritually. It is not a step to be taken lightly, but in full knowledge of what will be required of you.

For you do not commit yourself this day to a position of power or privilege, but one of servanthood, of listening, of leading by following, for very often the voice of the spirit will not be heard through you, and you must be listening for it in others. The wind blows where it will, and the Spirit will speak through anyone who listens. You have a vision, and you have a voice, and that light must shine on a hill, but if you try to force your vision, and if your voice drowns out the voices of others, that light will be dimmed. Today, you are salty, but if you abuse your position, you will lose the trust and respect of your people and your peers, and your saltiness, your effectiveness, your ability to season and influence will fade.

Today is a joyous occasion, but it is also one that requires sobriety and gravity. On behalf of all the ordained clergy here today, I embrace Lou as a brother in ministry, and rejoice in his election. Lou, in addition to the communities which you will lead, we clergy are also a community, and I hope and pray that you will call on us for the support you need as you get your sea legs as a deacon, and later as a priest. Charlie is your pastor, and we are your friends. Please lean on us, because no matter what you may face, it is likely that one of us has been there before you, and may have some helpful advice. You are not the lone ranger, you are a member of Christs body, and dependent on every other member. As you go forth to lead, remember that you must also follow. As you endeavor to be strong, remember that true strength requires vulnerability and humility. Above all, take heed of the words that Jesus spoke: "You are the salt of the earthdon't let that salt lose it's flavor. You are the light of the worlddon't let that light be dimmed. Instead, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." Amen.