Seventh Sunday of Easter (Fr. Guiliano)

In the closing lines of our first reading, we hear about the gathering of the early disciples. After the resurrection and ascension, they returned to Jerusalem. Specifically, they returned to the upper room, where Jesus had spoken to them at the Last Supper and where he had given the Communion of his Body and Blood. He had also appeared there after his resurrection, showing himself alive. 

That upper room was a holy place. They made it holier still by gathering for 10 days of prayer and dedication: 

“Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James…” along with the women who followed Jesus, along with Mary his mother, along with his relatives. That seems like a lot of people, but it really wasn’t. 

It was a small group. But they were the Church, then: expectant, hopeful, waiting in prayer, looking for the kingdom of God, longing for the moment of the Spirit’s descent. There was a lot they didn’t know. The apostles asked Jesus, “Is now the time that you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 

He replied in his typical, frustrating way. It’s not for you to know. He directed their attention elsewhere. 

You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. 

When Jesus said this, he set the church’s trajectory for decades, centuries, millennia. The church then gathered in prayer, a small and uncertain group, enjoying the holiness of the upper room. But they did not stay there. The Church has moved ever outward. By the end of the first Christian generation, it had spread across the Mediterranean world, made inroads in Persia, reached India, and begun its journey into Africa and Western Europe. 

The Church has grown and shifted; it has changed appearance; it has struggled, suffered, retreated; it has triumphed. 2000 years is a long time. 

In each generation, the Church’s mission must be renewed. Things that were cast down must be raised up; things that have grown old must be made new; all things must be ushered toward the perfection and completion for which they were made.

That is as true at Emmanuel as anywhere else. Think of our history. One hundred forty-three years ago, there was a newly confident Episcopal congregation on this site. Its people had gathered for years in little rooms here and there in Champaign: in a school, in a shopfront. They eventually built a handsome wooden church on this site, filled it with an altar, pews, and beautiful glass. They named it Emmanuel. But that wasn’t the end. A generation later, they would raise the bricks and mortar that surround us today, partly because the congregation had grown. 

Then, a generation later, this church built the Mowry Building. Then, a generation later – some of you still remember these things – there were the rededications at the Jubilee and the Campaign for a New Generation. Renewal has taken place many times in this church’s history – each time, guided by God, inspired by prayer, following the example of those Christians in the upper room who prayed for the descent of God’s Spirit and then went out to a hurting world. 

Here we are, again, today. To use the words of Jesus, “The hour has come.” Something is happening in the world today. People are coming to faith; the tide of secularization has stilled. The hour has come! Our Lord said this when he was about to be glorified and finish the work he had come to do. He said it when he was handing his mission on to the disciples. He said it when he reminded them that he was their true life and salvation.

Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. 

And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence.

The hour has come – not for Emmanuel to rise again for its own sake, but for Emmanuel to serve the purposes of God afresh. 

Let us pray that Jesus Christ may be glorified in our midst. He has authority over “all people.” The hour has come for us to renew our life, to testify to his name, to bring the beauty of his Gospel to Champaign and beyond. 

As you know, we are launching today our Strategic Plan and Capital Campaign: Open Doors. It is meant to be a beginning, a start, a gathering of strength, and a first push toward a renewed mission. 

I won’t go over lots of details now because we’ll be talking about it at length after Mass, and Open Doors materials are waiting for you in the Great Hall; please pick up a packet.

But let me say a few simple things now about our mission, our vision, and our goals. 

They are ambitious. We want this church to grow significantly in the next 3 years and more after that. We want to share our worship and way of life in this area and beyond, not because we are full of ourselves, but because we proclaim Jesus Christ and we believe in the value of our Episcopal traditions. We want to build a community here that increases in strength, love, knowledge, and unity -- that has the confidence to offer leadership and service.  

I hope those ideas excite you. I hope we’re all a little daunted. It is a commitment to change; it means striving together for God’s kingdom; it means relying on each other and, especially, on God with whom all things are possible. 

After Christ’s resurrection, his disciples returned to the upper room. There, they remembered him; there, they prayed; there, they waited expectantly. By God’s grace, they received “power” to testify to the goodness of his name. They changed the world. 

We are their legacy; we share the same faith, the same life, the same Lord; we are one Body with those first disciples.

May the same Spirit that animated them and drove them out into the four corners of the earth come down upon us; that the hour may come and Christ may be glorified.