Homily

It was December 22nd, 1981, and the young priest from Ohio arrived in Oregon to try and develop a mission parish into a regular parish. Publicity went out, and that Sunday there must have been 60 people at Liturgy. I had just come from a parish of 600 people, but I thought, "That's probably a good number." I obviously made an impression on people, because the next Sunday 12 of them came back. (Actually they were the same twelve that were there before I came.)

You may be wondering why all the small "25" cards are placed around the hall and church. It was 25 years ago this night that the first Divine Liturgy was celebrated in this building. It hardly seems possible it's been so long; and in the early days, it seemed impossible it ever would have happened. I can't even begin to describe my feelings on that Christmas Eve. At the Royal Hours, we sang Psalm 5,

"But I, in the abundance of Your love, will have access to Your dwelling place. Before Your holy temple I will worship in the fear of You."

And there we were, standing and praying in worship in the Temple of the Lord, the dwelling place of God, Who rests here on the altar both in Word, as the Gospel contains and in the flesh as the tabernacle holds—both on the altar of the Lord where the sacrifice is offered even this very night. This is the khram—the temple, the tserkov, the church.

Not too many of those who were there that night are still here with us today. They have moved away, some have fallen away from the faith, many fell asleep in Christ, but their lives are a part of this church even if they are no longer physically present in it. They are a part of this church because they helped to build it, not only by donations and fund-raising, but also with their physical labor. People were here day after day during construction, doing whatever jobs they were able to do to help save costs. All the wood was stained by our hands, and in fact, I can show you a hand print or two that still can be seen on the ceiling decking. But they are also a part of this church because in this building they worshipped the Lord. In this building, their children and grandchildren were given the gift of Divine Life in Holy Baptism. In this building they asked pardon for their sins, they asked to be Crowned in Marriage, they were anointed when they were sick and laid to rest when the Lord called them home.

So it's a building, obviously, constructed out of lumber and steel and plumbing and glass—but it's a building where the grace of God entered into the lives of men, women and children. It's a material structure that served as a transmission station for the Lord's own gift of sanctification and eternal life. It is the place where God and Man meet in time and space, and in a way the Psalmist could never have foreseen we have access to the Lord's true dwelling place.

It's impossible to describe how impossible all this seemed in 1981. It's such an incredible story of how in just eight years we ended up with this property and this building, and how time after time, when every obstacle came up the Lord cleared the path, and the people said, "Amen," (at least most of the people, most of the time.) That, which was impossible to foresee and could hardly have been predicted, came to pass, and we can see it and touch it and be blessed by its presence in our lives today.

What was impossible to foresee and could never have been predicted also came to pass in Bethlehem of Judea, 2,000 years ago. God Himself, the Living Word, takes on flesh so that we could see Him, touch Him, listen to Him, and be saved by Him. He uses the material things of this earth to carry His spiritual gifts to us: water, wine, bread, oil, icons, and even this church building where we sing every Liturgy, "Come and let us worship and bow before Christ. O Son of God, risen from the dead, save us who sing to you." and in His goodness, He has made a way to provide us with this spiritual home to worship Him, as well as a place where we can come together as this local Body of Christ, where we build up one another, help one another, learn from each other, and even carry one another's burdens, because this too is a part of our life in faith. And then, in turn, we are called to go out and love and serve our neighbor, one way or another sharing something of our faith with those "out there," and helping those who are in need of our care and our financial help.

How blessed I am that I am not serving a parish with hundreds of people and never able to even know all their names, much less what they had for dinner last night . . . much less that they brought me some of what they had for dinner last night. How blessed I am to serve a parish where people make visitors feel welcome, where the elderly are loved, where people volunteer when there is a need, and none of the children catch on fire during the Holy Gospel. How blessed I am that this is a place where people understand the words, "Let us love one another so that with one mind we may profess the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, the Trinity, One in substance and undivided." We cannot proclaim our faith unless we are also united in Christian love, because our deeds must match up with our words.

I perfectly understand you may not be able to share the connection that I have with this building because you were not here that far in the past. Even those of you who were here and participated a great deal in all of it, because I was automatically at the center, and I understand if you are perhaps not as moved as I am at this anniversary. (I'm the only one who knows where all the bodies are buried—but that's a story for another time.)

Twenty-five years ago about 40 people came to worship in this church for the first time. And Christ was in this place. He came in the flesh to be with, and part of mankind; he came to this place to be with His people. Here today, we worship Christ Who came in the flesh, He comes to this place again, to be with us, His people. This church has pipes that can freeze in the winter, and yet it is an expression of the great goodness of God. This place was built by men and women, not as a monument to themselves but to the glory of God. This temple is not awe-inspiring because of its magnificent beauty, but because of the people the Lord has called together here, and because in this Temple He pulls us into His own divine life. How very fortunate, how very blessed I am to be in this place tonight with all of you. How unworthy and yet how blessed I am to be in this place tonight before Jesus our Lord. May Christ work a mighty deed within us as we venerate His Holy Nativity.