Why is it called a sacrament?

I woke this morning to darkness. As I began to stretch, I called my family to check in before their bedtime back in San Diego. While we were speaking, dawn started to break, drawing me outside. As I stood on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, full day arrived as the sun rose over the Golan Heights. It was awe-inspiring to be bathed in the warmth of God’s peace and grace, made real and tangible within me and all around me.

We traveled the northern shoreline of the Sea of Galilee, reading scriptures and experiencing them come to life before us: fishes and loaves, walking on water, healing and more healing, the stories Jesus taught during his three years of ministry here. As the day progressed, many of us shared that our hearts and minds were full with the overabundance of Jesus’s life, unfolding in all its vivid reality before our eyes.

Our final destination was a chapel in Cana, run by Roman Catholic nuns. We had scheduled a service in one of the side chapels for members of our group to renew their wedding vows. Some folks anticipated this with joy, while others were hesitant for a variety of reasons. The place was crowded with pilgrims, which definitely could have justified our canceling or letting ourselves be rushed through the experience. But we kept to our plan.

In this lovely, small, and simple chapel, we closed the doors to shield us from the crowds. Despite the noise and feeling hurried in, we began. We listened to a reading of 1 Corinthians 13; we listened to Jesus’s teaching of the great commandment; we prayed for the couples present. We stopped to hear about the keys to long relationships: trust, joyful play, patience, forgiveness, listening, selflessness, friendship, family, faith.

And then, one at a time, each of our six couples stood in front of the altar, before all those gathered, and just as on their wedding days, I quietly read the marriage vows for them to repeat to each other. Each spouse reaffirmed they had chosen to love the other, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and health, until death. Emotions emerged, breathing quickened, voices cracked, eyes moistened. And for a moment, each spouse reflected on their commitment to the other over all those years AND their passionate commitment for tomorrow, forevermore.

And yes, each couple embraced with a kiss.

We celebrated each, and then we celebrated God in Jesus by breaking bread together. Later that night, we reflected on the day. Many could not find words to explain what had happened, except to say that they had been touched by God at their core. The feeling was shared by everyone present.

Marriage was the last of the sacraments to be added by the early Christian Church. A sacrament is not about the act itself—water, bread, oil, hands—or about the actual words used. Often, it is about intentionally seeking an encounter with the holy—the living presence of God in our midst. And when I or others try to describe the experience of God’s presence within us, or of God showering us with love and peace … there are no words.

That is what a sacrament is—God, made real and tangible to you.

At St. Bart’s, we are a sacramental church. That is, we practice and share the seven sacraments with intention and generosity, so that others may come to know Jesus, come to know their creator, in real and tangible ways, seven days a week.

I have the privilege, given to me by the people of the Episcopal Church and my bishop, to administer most of our sacraments … knowing it is only God that can bless and transform you in God’s love. I can’t imagine a better life than inviting people into this sacred mystery and witnessing over and over the power of God, in real time, in our midst.

Thank you, God. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Episcopal Church. And thank you, St. Bart’s