EASTER 7-C, May 23, 2004

Several years before Arlena's then-89 year old grandmother died, Arlena and I had the opportunity to visit her. Grandma was a delightful lady. When we stopped in for that visit, we both gave her a big hug. Then I went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee as I usually did. While I was getting the coffee, Arlena and grandma sat down. I could hear Arlena ask, "Well, Grandma how are you doing?" Not a good opening line. Grandma told her, told her about her aches and pains. When I came back into the living room and sat down with my cup of coffee, Grandma looked at me and said, "Well, Bill, it looks like you haven't missed too many meals lately." I laughed and said, "Well, Grandma, your body may be falling apart, but a least your eyesight is not failing." When you're eighty-nine, you can be as honest as the day is long. And she was.

It was obvious back then and it is obvious today that I have not missed too many meals lately. What I also have not missed are too many desserts. My mother says that I have inherited my father's sweet tooth. And that is probably true. My dad loved ice cream and so do I. I can eat it any time of the day or night and any kind. The bigger the bowl the better I always say. If it is any consolation to me, I know I am not alone in my love for ice cream.

The story is told, a true one, that in 1890 a Wisconsin merchant named Smithson came up with a creative way to cope with the Sunday afternoon shortages of ice cream at his store. Sunday deliveries were forbidden, but large crowds of people wanted their ice cream. So Smithson thought of a way to stretch his supply. He began cutting back on the amount of ice cream he scooped into the dish and added toppings of chocolate sauce or fruit syrups instead. These Sunday creations became the rage. Soon Sundays were being requested every day of the week. Not until some sensitive people complained about using the name of the Lord's Day for a sweet treat did Smithson change the spelling of his delicious invention from S-u-n-d-a-y to s-u-n-d-a-e.

Now I usually do not eat sundaes. The residue of guilt remaining from my Roman Catholic upbringing probably keeps me from spreading chocolate or butterscotch or hot fudge toppings on the ice cream I should not be eating in the first place. The greatest of all sundaes, of course, is the banana split. You not only get three scoops of ice cream -- three different flavors if you want them, you get three toppings, whipped cream, bananas, nuts and even a cherry or two on top. Now that is decadence.

All of this is a long way around to getting to my point, and that is that, if we think about it, the church is very much like a bowl of ice cream, is it not? But what kind of bowl of ice cream the church is is up to us who are members of the church. If we want to continue the analogy, the world in which we live and move and have our being is not a vanilla-ice-cream world, or a chocolate-ice-cream world or a one-flavored world. It is made up of all kinds and conditions of people. This world, if it is anything, is truly a banana-split world.

If we take today's lessons seriously, then it is our responsibility as church, as a church, to also be a banana-split church. The Gospel and the reading from Acts remind us that everyone is to be part of Christ's Church and that we are all to be one in that church. And, as the reading from Revelation makes clear, it is to be open to everyone. The invitation to be a part is open-ended. "Come," says the reading. "Come. Anyone who is hungry or thirsty, anyone who needs a home or a family, anyone who is on the outside looking in: come. Come and join us." Or as those old ads the Diocese of Iowa ran years ago said, "There's always room and you're always welcome. Come."

The problem we encounter, however, is a very personal one, one that addresses us at the very core of our being. The command is that the church be a banana-split church. The temptation is to make it or keep it a vanilla-ice-cream church. We know we should invite others to join us. We would even like to invite others to join us. But we also know, as soon ask others do join us, things will change. Add a glob of hot chocolate to the vanilla ice cream and it is no longer just vanilla ice cream. Add some butterscotch, and it gets even more complicated. Add the rest of the toppings and what do you have?

You have a banana slit and you also have a mess. Ever try to eat a banana split without getting your hands sticky, without spilling something somewhere other than back into the bowl? The table, the napkin, even your clothes can get messed up when eating a banana split. So, too, is it with the church. A banana split church is very messy, sometimes very, very messy.

We Episcopalians often have a serious problem with a messy, banana split church. We like everything orderly. Our liturgy is orderly. Our Prayer Book is orderly. Our bulletin is "An order of service." Our records of who belongs and who does not belong are orderly. We are a very orderly church with very orderly people. We like order. We are uncomfortable when there is disorder. Given a choice between a bowl of vanilla ice cream and a banana split, and we'll take the bowl of vanilla almost every time.

The problem we have, again, is that we don't live in a vanilla-ice-cream world. And we are not called to be a vanilla-ice-cream church in a banana-split world. The church that Jesus left us, or at least the community of faithful that remained after the Ascension, was a banana-split community. During his ministry Jesus hung out with the rich and the poor, with the sick and the well, with sinners and those who thought they were saved, with all sorts of conditions of people.

Jesus invited everyone to be a part of his community back then and he invites everyone to be a part today. "Come, you who are well off," Jesus says, "come and dine at my table. I know how difficult it is sometimes to think you don’t need anyone, how hard it is for you to think you need the church. But I also know that you sometimes wonder if chasing after material goods is all there is. There is more. Come dine with us and find out what you are really missing."

"Come into my church," Jesus says to those who are poor, to those who are sick, to those in need. "Come and sit at my table. Eat my body and drink my blood. I will feed you with the spiritual food your souls need to be made whole and my people will fill you with the food your bodies need to be made well. Come dine with us and you will be filled."

"Come and eat at my table," Jesus says to those who are standing around, not really knowing if they are coming or going. "Come, those of you who are lost, who seem to be stuck in the middle of the road. Come you who are confused, lonely and afraid. Come and eat at my table," says Jesus. "Come, and my people and I will feed you, nourish you, help you find your way."

"Come all of you," says Jesus. "Black or white, red or yellow; Italian or English, Swede or German; rich or poor, well or ill; come." That is Jesus’ invitation. That is also to be our invitation to the world, yours and mine, Christ Church’s invitation. Whether we like it or not, we are called to be a banana-split church because we live in a messy, banana-split world; a world of hunger and plenty, a world of rich and poor, a world of war and peace, a world where people agree with us and where people disagree with us.

This morning we are honoring those who are graduating from high school, college or graduate school. We are sending them off into a banana-split world. We are also welcoming into our church family through baptism Mackenzie and Carter. We are welcoming them into a banana-split world. We are promising each of them, those who are beginning a new journey in their lives and those who are just beginning their first, that we will be there with them on their journeys. We promise to help them, support them, encourage them, love them as they make their way in this confusing and unsteady world in which we all live.

For in spite of it all, in spite of this messy, banana-split world, we are all God's children. Jesus invites us to come, come and be one, one church, one world. Will we accept that invitation? More importantly, will we extend that invitation to others and will we do our part to make it happen?