Written and Delivered by The Rev. Mary Phelps

Several weeks ago we observed the passing of former president Gerald Ford. As I watched some of the events memorializing him, I was especially touch by the ceremony at the Capital. Ford's coffin was reverently carried up the steps, and placed in the rotunda of the building, and several politicians who had worked with and known Ford gave eulogies standing in clear view of the door leading into the House chamber - the place Ford had loved and in which, he had given many years of loyal service to this country.

Two of the memorials were given by Dick Cheney and the former speaker of the House. Here were two men, thought of by many as inflexible and cold, delivering such heart felt remembrances that they brought tears to my eyes.

We were given a broader glimpse of Ford as a person and not just as a president. We learned about a man who was raised from humble roots in Michigan, and whose greatest aspiration was to be Speaker of the House. We also came to know a man of deep faith with a reputation of unfailing honestly and integrity. But Gerald Ford was called to a place that he never imagined for himself; a place he never sought out.

Ford was the man President Nixon chose to be his vice president when Spiro Agnew had to resign due to a tax evasion scandal. Then when Nixon resigned, Ford became president. It was a time of deep division, shame, and fear for most Americans. In his first national speech after he became president Ford said, "Our long national nightmare is over. You have not elected me as your president by your ballot, and so I ask you to confirm me as your president with your prayers." Several weeks after that address, Ford granted Richard Nixon a full presidential pardon. It was an act that angered both Republicans and Democrats, and it is thought to have cost Ford the election in 1976.

This decision was one Ford never regretted. He wasn't out to win a popularity contest, and he wasn't going to be swayed by party loyalty. He knew this country needed to heal, to move on from what was crippling and dividing it, and get on with the good that could be done by and for our citizens as well as needy people throughout the world.

In his last years and weeks Ford spent time with the rector of his Episcopal Church and the Bishop of California. He was deeply concerned about the rifts in the church over gay ordination and the election of women bishops, especially the recent election of Katharine Jefferts Schori as presiding bishop. He asked them to work for healing and reconciliation in the church so it could continue Christ's work in the world. "He said he did not think they should be divisive for anyone who lived by the Great Commandments and the Great Commission to love God and neighbor." (Passed on by The Rev. Robert Certain, former rector of Ford's home parish in Palm Desert, California in his sermon at Ford's memorial service at Washington National Cathedral.)

Yes, Ford was called to the highest office in our land at a time when this country needed a healer and a man of strength and vision whose decisions were formed by his faith in God's grace, compassion and love. He was a prophet who agitated the comfortable and brought comfort to the afflicted. And, as so many prophets before him, the fruits of his work and spirit were understood and appreciated more after his death than they were during his life.

In those days and weeks following his death, Ford's healing spirit was still at work in the church. He had called for moderation and temperance by all people no matter what their religion was; he had called for unity in the church he loved so much so it could as a united body continue Christ's mission in the world. Now this prophet is being heard and listened to by people throughout the country. I was proud of him, and I have to admit, I was proud he was one of us – he was an Episcopalian.

Before pride has much time to settle in, God has a way of humbly reminding us how to refocus on the larger picture. That's exactly what happened for the people who were listening to Jesus as he taught in his hometown synagogue.

Can't you just picture it? There in Nazareth, the armpit of Israel, hardly big enough or important enough to warrant a dot on the map, they were about to welcome home their hero. Hadn't it been said, "What good can come out of Nazareth?" Now Jesus, son of the carpenter, Joseph, the boy they had helped teach and raise had made it big. He had gone off to study and learn the Scriptures, and he had become a renowned scholar and teacher.

Why, he was so blessed by God that he was able to make the blind see and cure all sorts of illnesses.

So, with eager expectation the people listened to Jesus read from the book of Isaiah, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recover the sight of the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." Next is where the Good News came in: Jesus rolled up the scroll, sat down, and said, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." This was happening right here and now, and Jesus was calling the people to respond by joining him as people of action.

Instead, what Jesus received was two other kinds of responses. From one side of the room a man shouted out, "Wow, that was great! Isn't that the wisest and most gracious thing you've ever heard! And many applauded in agreement. From the other side of the room another person said, "Wait a minute, just what does he say he's fulfilling? Isn't that Joseph's boy?" The people didn't want to join in the action, what they wanted was for Jesus to do something for them. They didn't want to change what they were doing, they just wanted Jesus to miraculously make their lives better, to bring them prosperity and overcome the oppressive Roman rulers.

That is when Jesus stood up again and said, "You all don't understand what I have just said to you, and maybe that's because you can't really accept who I am. Here in my home congregation you just remember me as the boy down the street. Let me try to explain myself in another way." That's when Jesus started talking like those prophets that had come before him. He rubbed salt in their wounds by reminding them how Elijah was sent by God to the widow Zarephath, a non Jew, when the Israelites were starving because of a famine, and how Elisha only cured Naaman, a Gentile, when there were many of their own suffering from leprosy too.

The people wondered what was happening. Hadn't Jesus just told them this was the year of the Lord's favor for them, and now he was saying it wasn't for them at all, it was for others, the Gentiles!

All of a sudden the golden boy began to tarnish. When they thought about it they said, "Oh Yeah, now I remember, Jesus always was in his own world, he didn't always go along with all of us, he had an attitude, like he knew something we didn't know. When you think about it, he wasn't all that nice."

It's amazing what happens when you challenge people; when you make them face the not so pleasant realities of their lives. When Jesus rolled up the scroll and began to speak, they expected him to say everything was going to be fine. But when Jesus challenged them, when he made them uncomfortable by reminding them of their less than perfect track record, they were ready to run him out of town.

I suppose we shouldn't be surprised by the people's reaction to Jesus. It's human nature to become angry and grumble when we are unpleasantly surprised. Jesus was supposed to come home and be their prophet in residence. He was supposed to be their theological guide and tell them God was on their side, that everything was going to be okay. He wasn't supposed to challenge them, to call them to act, to change, and join him to make their world better. Jesus was challenging each of them to grow into the role of a prophet, one called by God, and that is never an easy thing to do. A prophet is called to do uncomfortable things, even if that is among his or her own congregation.

It takes a lot of love and courage to challenge your family and the people you care deeply about in an effort to help them grow and contribute to making not only their congregation, but the community around them, a healthier place that is inviting and healing for everyone. The prophets among us are the voice of God calling us to be a little uncomfortable while we discern what we need to throw away so something new can be planted and grow in our midst. At the same time we need to discern why this challenge makes us angry and resistant to change. It is a challenge we must undergo if we are to go where God calls us.

If we reflect on what Paul wrote to the community in Corinth, we begin to see that working and communicating with one another and God can have its problems and pitfalls. Paul listed the many gifts we need in order to see ourselves clearly, and what we need to do in order to grow and serve God. Each of us can't have all these gifts; yet each of us surely has some of the gifts needed to answer God's call. When we gather together, we have the opportunity to use our gifts to make this parish strong and flourish. If anyone doesn't contribute by using the gifts God has given him or her it weakens the community. And if anyone believes their gifts are more important or relevant to answer God's challenge, then he or she has the potential to cause division and destruction.

Paul was writing to a community that was tearing itself apart with disputes. Who was right? Who was the best leader? Whose gifts where the most needed? What can we toss out and what must we cling to above all else?

What Paul was observing is that all these decisions where being made without regard to each member of the community, and without recognizing what was the most important gift – a gift they had universally received from God. And that gift was the capacity to love.

Paul didn't mean a sappy or idealistic form love. The Greeks, in whose language Paul wrote, had many words for sentimental or romantic love. Paul chose the word agape, a word that goes way beyond feelings; it is an act of the will, a choice, a commitment without any conditions or strings attached to it.

Paul tells us that whatever other powers, talents, wisdom, or understanding we might have, without love they don't count for anything. You can convince people of all most anything, but if you don't love them you are, as Paul said, a noisy gong that everyone can hear but that calls them to nothing.

Faith, hope, courage, friendship, truth, and justice all have their foundation in love. But the greatest of all virtues is love. Love is the greatest force for change, and if we embrace and generously share it, we will become the community God calls us to be.

Paul wrote, "For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face." Right now St. George's is searching for answers, and just like the indirect image reflected in a mirror the future is a bit fuzzy. Our insights are of a reality that is now only partially grasped. In the end, it is love that will show us the way by enable us to see ourselves as we truly are and see others as God sees them.

Today we are standing with Jesus in the synagogue in Nazareth. But instead of expecting him to do something miraculous for us, we know we can join his mission even if that calls us out of our comfort zones and leads us on paths we would not have chosen. It affirms that we join all people of faith who allow the power of Christ's Spirit to lead and empower us.

We stand united knowing that for each of us and for all of us, God bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. That is a love that never ends.