Apostolic Invitations

Apostle James, brother of St. John the Theologian (the Divine)


We celebrate the feast of the Apostle James on Tuesday, July 25th. He was a very popular saint in the Middle Ages and his shrine at Compostela in Spain was one of the most popular pilgrimage destinations in Europe. (The pilgrimage has become popular again in recent decades and several Episcopalians from New York have made the pilgrimage—some, several times!—in the last few years.)

St. James was an apostle, a preacher of the Good News of Jesus Christ. He spent his life traveling and sharing the message of Christ with others. He was killed because he would not deny his faith in Christ. We are likewise called to share our faith and in Christ with other people—not necessarily by traveling around the world and talking to strangers but by talking to the people we already know who live right around us already.

Our faith is important to each of us in personal and unique ways. We might feel foolish or embarrassed to discuss these reasons with people we know but we should not be embarrassed to invite people to come to church with us. If we want our parishes to grow and thrive, flourish and outlive any of us who are currently alive we need to invite people to join us on Sunday morning or at a weekday event. There are plenty to choose from.

We don’t need to wait for a special event. Every Sunday is special in some way—the music, the sermon, the fellowship at Coffee Hour. Who might you invite to join you on Sunday?

We should be praying for our neighbors as well as inviting them to come to church with us. Our prayers for the welfare of those around us can help us—and our neighbors—be more open and responsive to opportunities for sharing faith.

We believe “in one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church.” That means the Church is directly connected to the apostles and shares the same calling as the apostles. That means that each of us personally—because we are members of the Body of Christ, that one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church—also share that same calling among our neighbors and friends. We can use the feast of St. James as a reminder of our callings to be apostles just as he was. 

Read previous blogs about more of the Apostle James’ adventures in Spain here.

Dare to Touch

… a synagogue leader came and knelt before him and said, “My daughter has just died. But come and put your hand on her, and she will live.” Jesus got up and went with him, and so did his disciples.

Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. 21 She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.” (Matt. 9)

The woman with the 12-years hemorrhaging had been bleeding for as long as the dead 12-year old had been alive. Blood and life. 12 apostles. 12 tribes of Israel. Life vs Death. The life of the Kingdom vs fallen life in a fallen world. The episodes of the girl and the woman are short hand for the Gospel in so many ways.

The hemorrhaging woman is frequently cited in prayers in preparation for Holy Communion. We see ourselves in her: as she dared to reach out to touch Christ’s garment, hoping to be healed, we dare to reach out to receive his body and blood, hoping to be healed as well. Healed. Raised from the dead. Healed, aka “saved.” (Both words are derived from the same root in Greek.)

We “are bold” to say Our Father before Communion. Do we realize how daring it is to reach out, making a throne with our palms to receive the King of Kings? We frequently do this pro forma, unthinkingly, out-of-habit. But if we were truly awake, would we dare?

This woman, traditionally known as Berenice, is possibly also the woman known as Veronica who is said to have wiped Christ’s face with a cloth which was then marked with the image of his face. (Veronica and Bernice are both names derived from the same Phoenician root.) Both stories—Bernice and Veronica—are about daring to reach out, daring to touch. About cloth.

The Word of God clothes himself in human flesh. He dares to reach out towards us, inviting us to reach out to him. He dares to touch us in our grief, isolation, need. He welcomes our touch in return.