It has been a great delight for me to spend time recently looking over the documents we have from 1964, '65 and '66, in preparation for this 40th anniversary. A sanctuary, is a place where the holy is present, or accessible. It is set aside as quite distinct from ordinary places, and often becomes a place of worship. The space which is holy, may also function as the intersection of time with eternity, and may be understood as well, as an earthly model of heaven.

As I read about the process of designing and building this sanctuary, I kept thinking of various sanctuaries in the Bible. So I am going to lift up the story of our parish, in alternation with some stories about the sanctuaries that are important in the Old and New Testaments. I thought first of the patriarch Jacob, travelling to a new land, and having a dream of a ladder reaching up to heaven, with angels ascending and descending upon it. When he woke up, he said, "how holy is this place! This is none other than the house of God and the gate of heaven" (Gen 28:17). And Jacob set up an altar there. I thought next of Moses, tending his flock on the mountain, when he saw a burning bush. Immediately God spoke to from the bush, saying that Moses should take off his sandals, because he was standing on holy ground (Ex 3:5). Both of those places were holy not because of a shrine or temple, but because God's presence was manifest to a human being.

Here in Sunnyvale, 95 years ago, a group of Episcopalians gathered in homes to pray together. They had no holy place, but they trusted that when 2 or 3 are gathered in Jesus' name, he would be in the midst of them as he promised. Their experience of God's presence was strong enough to organize themselves as a mission congregation of the Episcopal Church. Three years later, they built a small sanctuary on a lot they had acquired, on the corner of Sunnyvale and McKinley Avenues. They had neither architect nor contractor, and provided most of the labor and materials themselves.

I think a good case can be made that the first sanctuary of the Hebrew people was not the ark of the covenant, nor a tabernacle, but the simple "tent of meeting" which is described in Exodus 33. This tent, pitched far outside the camp, was the place Moses went when he needed guidance from the Lord. It seems likely there was nothing in the tent; but when Moses entered it, the pillar of cloud came down on it, and "the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend" (Ex 33:11). Later on, when the Israelites had settled in the land, the tabernacle, and the stone altars, became more important.

The desire to build a permanent house of God runs deep in the hearts of those who love God. So it was that the Temple proposed by King David, was build in Jerusalem by his son, King Solomon, around 960 B.C. The temple was built out of the cedars of Lebanon, which were sent in rafts down the coast, and hauled overland up to Jerusalem. When the temple was finished, God promised to dwell in it as long as the people obeyed the covenant. The temple building itself housed the ark of the covenant, the tables of incense and shewbread and the golden lampstand. Probably it was only entered by priests and Levites. The people would have gathered in the courtyard around the altar of sacrifice. This first temple lasted almost 500 years.

In Sunnyvale, after the difficult years of the depression and the war, the struggling mission of St. Thomas, which had never had a full-time vicar, came to the attention of Bishop Block. The first full-time vicar, Kenneth Eade, was appointed in 1951, and the church began to grow. Members of the church built a parish hall, with a kitchen and restrooms. Then in 1955 Bishop Block provided money to purchase this 2 and a half acres on Sunset Avenue. With help from the diocese, and a capital campaign, a new church was built in 1957. That second sanctuary is now Cowans Hall, and it has served us well.

Our 4th vicar, Warren Debenham, arrived in 1960. Three years later he appointed a Long Range Planning Committee. At the end of 1963 they presented their report, which is quite detailed. The ultimate long-range goal was "a spiritually effective medium-sized parish, with permanent sanctuary to be established at the present site, attended by two clergy, with church school facilities commensurate with its size, and a budget providing for equal expenditures in and outside the parish". I spoke to the chair of that committee, Dick Alexander, on Thursday night, and he was so pleased to hear we are celebrating this anniversary. The first step toward the ambitious goal, was to initiate the process of becoming a parish in the Diocese of California. This meant paying off the loan we had received from Bp Block, and filing articles of incorporation with the state. Our vicar became our rector, and St. Thomas was ready for a "permanent sanctuary". Although the times, the people, and the circumstances are different, I believe the desire to build a beautiful house of God was probably the same for those members of St. Thomas, as it was for King Solomon and his people.

When Solomon's Temple was destroyed by the Babylonians, the Israelites almost felt they couldn't worship at all. 50 years later, when the children of the exiles returned from Babylon, their first thought was to build a second temple. Because their resources were more limited, it was smaller and simpler than the first temple. Much later, King Herod undertook renovations of the Second Temple which lasted 46 years. It was that enlarged temple of which Jesus was speaking, when he said to the Pharisees that "something greater than the Temple is here" (Matt 12:6). In his dialogue with the Samaritan woman at the well, Jesus explained that the day was coming when the true worshippers will not need to go to any temple, because they will worship in spirit and in truth. (John 4:23). And in his last days in Jerusalem, Jesus said that God's presence had left the temple (Matt 23:38).

What Jesus did was to relocate the sanctuary, the place where God is manifest to human beings, from the Temple, to the Last Supper. Henceforth the presence of God is to be sought and found in the gathering of believers who re-enact that last supper and new covenant. It is in remembering and presenting again the self-offering of Jesus, that we might know God's presence and guidance. In our reading from Hebrews, the author of that book is using all the language of temple and sacrifice to describe Christ's saving work. Christ is both High Priest, entering the sanctuary of heaven, and He is also the sacrifice that is offered once for all. We who are baptized into his sacrifice, are connected to him like branches connected to a vine, OR like living stones built into a spiritual house as St. Peter says (I Peter 2:5).

What this means is that the function of the Christian sanctuary is quite different from the function of the temple. It is not the place, nor the building which embody holiness; rather it is the actions of the faithful, in baptism, in the celebration of the Holy Eucharist, in prayer, in confession, in praise, in healing, in marriage, in burial, in the hearing of the Word, that make it holy. The function of the building, as those 40 year old documents say, "is to express and enhance worship" through a sense of joy, of mystery, and of fellowship. "The joy and mystery of God's presence are symbolized . . . by colorful appointments against a neutral background, (by) the play of light . . . through the narthex screen, and the flood of light on the altar . . . Baptism is symbolized by the moat surrounding the building . . . the square plan of the building symbolizes equality, and the congregation seems to surround the holy table. . . the ceremonial center-aisle entrance symbolizes the liturgical action, the side door" toward the parish hall "expresses the fellowship activities, and the street entrance serves to invite outsiders into the church family". The light coming in through the windows, and the ability to see out the windows, are a reminder that God is in the world outside, and cannot be contained, as it were, within the sanctuary.

I don't know if our architects or our Vestry were familiar with the theology or the physics of light, but they designed this space as if they were. Recently I have been reading a book about color, and have learned what you all probably know. When light, which is an electromagnetic wave hits a surface, it re-arranges the electrons, which have been vibrating (or dancing) in the atoms. The electrons absorb some of the light, and the part they don't absorb, is reflected out to us as green, or red, or yellow. The theology of light is most clearly articulated in the Gospel of John, who identifies the Word as "the true light which enlightens everyone" (1:9). That Jesus is "the Light of the world" (8:12) is underlined by his night-time dialogue with the puzzled Nicodemus, and by his healing of the Man Born Blind. In the first letter of John, the author claims "God IS light" (I John 1:5). What this means to me, is that our sanctuary enables us to experience God as light, and to recognize God's presence in the whole cosmos.

All of this was accomplished by our architects, Carroll Rankin, John Worsley and Tom Williamson, working closely with our Architect's Committee, chaired by Lester Burdick, who is our honored guest today. They chose the artist, Keith Boyle, who designed the interior of the sanctuary and painted the panels; they worked with the Rector and Vestry, they approved the "wild colors" chosen by the artist, and they encouraged members of the parish to make the vestments and some of the furnishings. Worship was first offered in this sanctuary in October 1966, and the dedication service was on December 4th. Bishop Millard officiated at that service, and he is also an honored guest. Today we offer praise and thanks to God for this sanctuary which enhances our worship, and we pray that God will preserve it for our use, and for the generations who come after us. Amen