This past Sunday, I preached at our Mass on the Grass service (which, conveniently, was moved to St. John’s Episcopal because of the rain) and I found myself preaching something entirely different than what I had planned.
The Gospel passage was Matthew 21:23–27. Jesus is teaching in the temple when the chief priests and elders approach him and ask: “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” Jesus responds by turning the question back toward them. Eventually, they answer, “We do not know.” And Jesus refuses to give them the answer they believe they are entitled to.
Sitting in the sanctuary before worship began, I found myself overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude that we were able to gather. Gratitude for the people who came before us who insisted that they had the right to gather, to worship, to love, to bless, and to build community, even when the people in power told them they did not.
I had gratitude for the people who had no recognized authority, no institution to grant them permission, no official body to ordain them, and broke the rules anyway. Who made new rules. Who gathered around tables. Who performed rituals. Who shared communion. Who created church because they knew that God was already there.
At MCC, we believe in the priesthood of all believers. At the communion table, both clergy and laypeople are given the authority to bless the elements and participate in making them holy. And that truth matters.
Because when MCC began, there was no ordaining body waiting to give us permission to exist. There were people who said we should not be a church. People who said we should not perform marriages. People who said we should not celebrate our bodies, our relationships, our genders, our lives. People who said we had no authority to claim sacred space. And yet here we are. What a holy blessing.
We are here because people before us understood something profound: God’s love does not require permission. And neither does our own capacity to love.
We do not need permission to love or to dream. We do not need permission to build something more beautiful than what we inherited. We are Way Makers. We are Dream Defiers. We are Sacred Rebels. And our rebellion is rooted in love.
This past weekend, Pastor Lauren and I also had the joy of offering rainbow ribbon blessings to folks who were carrying all kinds of things with them: joy, grief, uncertainty, hope, and new transitions on the horizon.
May we trust the holy authority that God has already placed within us. May we believe the dreams of our ancestors who are delighting in our existence.
And may we keep making trouble, because we know that love has the power to make room for everyone. May we keep gathering. May we keep blessing. May we keep dreaming. May we keep widening the circle.
With love and delight,
Pastor Eli