Sermon: Being a neighbor (in the border crisis) (July 14, 2019)

Pentecost 5C

Proper 9

July 14, 2019

Luke 10:25-37

INTRODUCTION

Last week we heard a lot about the kingdom of God – what it is like, what it is not like, and how to proclaim it. This week, right on the tails of Jesus sending out 70 of his followers to proclaim the kingdom, and their return, we hear a very familiar story, the Good Samaritan, which gives us a concrete example of what it would look like if we did, indeed, love our neighbor. The familiarity of this tale has perhaps diminished how very scandalous it is – we’ll get into that in a moment! Today, as you listen to the first readings, hear that God’s law and hope for us has not changed since the Israelites entered the Promised Land, give thanks in the Psalm that God is present with us as we strive to live God’s word, and hear in our reading from Colossians a prayer for you as you strive to live a life of faith. Then, as you listen to the story of the Good Samaritan, place yourself in the story – not as the hero, the Samaritan, but as one of the other characters. Maybe the guy in the ditch, or one of those who crosses the road, or the innkeeper. For that matter, maybe you’re the lawyer at the beginning. As you listen, imagine your character’s thoughts and feelings as this all plays out. Let’s listen.

[READ]

The Good Samaritan by Dinah Roe Kendall

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

As I have been following the debate about immigration in this country, I have really tried to hear both sides of the argument. But whatever America ends up doing with our broken immigration system, right now, I can’t shake the stomachache I get when I picture all those people crowded into cells without adequate hygiene or comfort. Like I think most people, what really breaks my heart is so many innocent children who are suffering so much, and will in some cases endure lasting damage from the trauma of the experience. Being in our country leaves them in these conditions. Going back home means a life of violence and poverty and constant fear of death. Politics aside, I’m left wondering: what is the Christian response here? How do we as Christians respond in a way that ensures safety and thriving and life not only for those children and adults, and for the migrants who are already here, making a life and contributing to our country, but also for the citizens of this country? We want all these groups to thrive! What is a Christian response?

It’s hard for me to read today’s parable without thinking about this situation – the detention centers and what happens once they cross the border and claim asylum or whatever, but also the circumstances in their home countries that cause so many to flee north. “Who is my neighbor?” the lawyer asks Jesus. And my heart cries, “Certainly these children and other migrants! What can we do to help them?”

But as I kept thinking about all this, I noticed a detail in the Good Samaritan story that I hadn’t thought much about before. The lawyer asks Jesus one question – “who is my neighbor?” – but Jesus answers a different one. Where the lawyer asks, “Who qualifies as a neighbor? Whom do I really have to love?” (and perhaps the underlying question, “Whom can I avoid loving?”), Jesus turns the question around and asks, “Who acts like a neighbor?” You see, rather than focusing on whom to love, he teaches us how to love, what love of neighbor looks like.

Now, Jesus is pretty good at that: flipping people’s questions around and answering (or sometimes not answering) a completely different question. But his trick here is especially instructive for us. His first response to the lawyer is to say, “A certain man was walking.” Or said more colloquially, “Some guy…” We know nothing about this dude. I might have expected this lawyer, whom Luke tells us is “wanting to justify himself,” to stop Jesus right there for some clarification. “Hold on,” he’d say. “What kind of guy are we talking about here? Where is he from? What religion is he? What color is he? Is he gay or straight, Democrat or Republican? Is he a citizen of this country or is he here illegally? Is he educated or skilled? What’s his deal?” In other words, “Let me make a judgment before I hear anything else in this story about whether this guy is worth my time and energy.” But no, Jesus intentionally leaves out any of those details, because the only detail that matters, as we’ll soon see… is that this man is in need. “Some guy” is each of us, and he is the person we love the most, and he is the person we love the least, or the one we fear the most. This “certain man” is every man, every person, regardless of tribe, background, education, or skill level. In other words: it doesn’t matter who he is, because everyone who is in need is your neighbor.

         Once that is established, Jesus goes on to tell this now-famous story: some non-descript guy is walking along and gets mugged, beaten, robbed, and left for dead on the side of the road. He’s walking along a notoriously dangerous road, where such incidents were common. Sometimes, such beaten people were left there as bait, so that when someone stopped to help, bandits would jump out and get the helper, too. Frankly, the priest and Levite who soon passed by were making a smart decision, for a lot of reasons. One was that helping the man would put them in great personal danger. Everyone has the right to safety and self-defense, right? And their defense is to cross to the other side of the road. But another important reason they were smart not to help was that touching this man would be breaking the law. These were religious men, who could not perform their religious duties if they had touched a dead body (remember, he looked dead). Such an interaction required extensive cleansing rituals over several days. And so each of them opted to follow the letter of the law, not stop to help the man, and go on to serve and honor God in their respective positions. Good call, if you ask me, and probably one that served a greater good. I don’t blame them at all. In fact, it’s a call I have many times made myself.

         And then along comes the Samaritan. Now, to add a little color to this story, you should know that Jews and Samaritans, well, they hated each other guts. They disagreed on everything that matters – where and how to worship God, how to interpret Scripture, how to honor God. The hatred was long-standing and deeply entrenched. We don’t know the affiliation of the man in the ditch, but we know those listening to the story were likely Jews, who heard, “A Samaritan came along…” and were likely clenching their fists. Nobody there would like to hear that the Samaritan was the hero – even the lawyer, when asked who was a neighbor, can’t even say the word, Samaritan. Instead he answers (I imagine, reluctantly, through clenched teeth), “The one who showed him mercy.” For Jesus then to add, “Go and do likewise,” was throwing salt in the wound: go and be more like this person you despise.

         The original question, you remember, was, “Who is my neighbor?” and Jesus’ implicit answer to that is, “Everyone.” The story he goes on to tell shows us not who is our neighbor, but rather, how to be a neighbor to “everyone” – regardless of race, creed, political affiliation, country of origin, marketable skills, immigration status, sexual orientation or gender. Everyone.

So… how do we do it? Are the priest and Levite not good neighbors? They follow the letter of the law and don’t stop to help so that they wouldn’t put themselves in danger, or get themselves ritually unclean, such that they wouldn’t be able to perform their religious duties. The law is in place for a reason, after all. If we don’t follow it, there will be chaos. Following the law seems like pretty good neighbor conduct, no? And you know, I’d be willing to bet, they even prayed for that guy in the ditch. They were faithful men, after all. So, couldn’t that be what being a neighbor looks like?

Ah, but this story isn’t called “the law-abiding priest and Levite.” We call it the Good Samaritan, because it was the Samaritan who saw that while the law is a good thing that keeps order, it is not more important than mercy. Grace is a higher good than law. Love is a higher good than safety. If the law directs us toward being gracious, merciful and loving toward our neighbor in need, then by all means keep it. But as the lawyer rightly pointed out, the highest law of all is, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Every other law must lead us toward fulfilling this mandate. Do this, says Jesus, and you will live.

The situation on the border is complicated, I know. I wish there were a straightforward solution to this incredibly complex issue our country has been dealing with for many years. Politically speaking, I’m not sure what to do. But I do know that a Christian response, as per God’s instruction throughout scripture, is to be a neighbor, to show love and mercy, to each of these people crossing our border or being held in detention, whether it’s a child, or a single adult, or a criminal, or a mom with a clean record who just wants to hold her baby again and give him a better life. Love and mercy in these cases may look like prayer, or a donation to an organization working on behalf of those in need on the border, or like calling your representative, or like attending a vigil or protest, or like using your particular skills and forum to serve, help, listen, advocate for, or simply speak out for love.

I also know that in this story, Jesus defines being a neighbor as showing mercy, radical and even dangerous mercy – not unlike the mercy he himself would come to show on the cross, as he forgave those who crucified him even as they taunted him, then died and rose again to deliver eternal life to us bunch of sinners.

And what I know most of all is that when we are neighbors, when we show mercy, we will live. We will experience God’s life-giving kingdom here and now. When we are bold in our compassion, courageous in our love, and faithful in our witness, we will live. That is the promise of Jesus Christ: that because we have already received such mercy and grace, we are emboldened to share that love with a hurting world, trusting in the power of God and life everlasting. A neighbor shows mercy to this broken world. Go, and do likewise.

Let us pray… Most merciful God, there are so many who suffer in this world, who need to encounter your mercy. Help us to be agents of your love. Show us how to do it, as individuals and as a country. Reveal to us your plan, then embolden us to become a part of it. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Thy kingdom come (July 7, 2019)

Pentecost 4C

Proper 9

July 7, 2019

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20; Galatians 6:1-16

INTRODUCTION

         At this point in Luke’s telling of Jesus’ story, intensity and urgency are rising. After being transfigured on a mountaintop, Jesus has “set his face for Jerusalem,” and is heading for his death, and in these last weeks of his life, Jesus is giving the disciples a good, tough schooling about what being a disciple looks like. In particular today, we will learn about how Jesus sends his disciples out to proclaim the kingdom of God.

         The “kingdom of God” – it’s a phrase we hear a lot. In fact, Jesus talks more about the kingdom of God in the four Gospels than anything else. But what does it mean? Well, what do you think when I say, “kingdom of God”? … Sometimes, maybe even usually, we think of it as “heaven.” But listen to what we hear today: Jesus will tell the 70 to declare, “The kingdom of God has come near.” In this context, the kingdom of God as a description of the afterlife doesn’t make much sense. So, as you listen, consider what else “kingdom of God” might refer to, what it might look like, and what we are really praying when we pray those well-known words, “Thy kingdom come…” Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

“Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as in heaven.”

These are words that flow from our mouths so easily every week, maybe even every day. Words that we promise to teach our children at their baptism. “Thy kingdom come… on earth as in heaven. Thy kingdom come.”

As I mentioned, Jesus talks about the kingdom of God more than anything else in all four Gospels. In our Gospel lesson today, he says it twice: “The kingdom of God has come near you.” Thy kingdom come. What does that mean, though? What does that look like? In other words, if God really were the sovereign of the world, the king of our hearts and our lands, and every knee truly bowed to God alone and not to our own sinful ways… what would the world look like?

Sometimes it is easier to start with what the kingdom of God is not like. And frankly, I look around the world and see a lot that does not reflect the loving, compassionate, and merciful God we claim is our ruler. The horrific conditions of the camps and detention centers on the border comes to mind, not to mention the situation in the northern triangle that has caused so many to flee in the first place. Then they arrive, and children and adults are crammed into cells and cages without adequate water, soap, or even room to sit, and according to some reports, children are not even allowed to hug or physically comfort each other. For a God who said repeatedly in scripture that we are to welcome the stranger, care for the alien in our land, and love our neighbor (even our enemies) as ourselves, this is a far cry from the sort of rule we could expect from a godly kingdom, where God reigns.

Plenty of other conditions of our world come to mind as well – widespread poverty, hate crimes and acts of terrorism against our fellow-humans, the pollution and destruction of God’s beautiful creation in order to sustain our unsustainable lifestyles, white supremacy and racism…  I’ll tell ya, it is a good thing we start each service with confession and forgiveness, because we are quite a ways from living in and cultivating a world that reflects the sovereignty of our God – whether due to our “things done” or our “things left undone.” Lord, have mercy!

         But just as we move each Sunday from confession to praise, we also must move on to what is more productive for us as Christians: to envision what the kingdom of God does look like, and to understand how we might work to bring about glimpses of that godly kingdom here on earth, even in the midst of so much sin and evil.

Today’s readings give us some insight into how we might go about this work. Paul’s letter to the Galatians describes some behaviors that would embody God’s kingdom. He says, “If anyone is detected of a transgression, you who have received the Spirit [so, that’s baptized Christians] should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness.” In other words, be gentle with one another, forgiving, and patient. Assume the best intentions, rather than jumping to the worst. “Bear one another’s burdens,” he goes on, “and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” So rather than accuse and condemn, citizens of the kingdom of God should help one another, stand in solidarity with one another, bear one another’s burdens – not always condone or agree, but support the individual with empathy and compassion. “So let us not grow weary in doing what is right,” Paul continues, “and whenever we have the opportunity, let us work for the good of all” – not just for the good of ourselves. While these assertions cannot completely describe the kingdom of God, they are at least a straightforward start: Be patient and gentle with one another, forgive short-comings, be empathetic and compassionate, stand by each others’ side and advocate for one another’s needs. In short, never grow tired of doing what is right, working for the good of all at every opportunity. If we applied all that to some of those issues I mentioned earlier – the situation at the border, racism, hunger, poverty, climate change, hate crimes – how might that look?

Of course, working toward the kingdom of God, trying to bring a glimpse of that kingdom here on earth, is not an easy job. It’s not always as simple as writing a check or volunteering at a food pantry, though both of these are also very important. Sometimes it involves doing some serious self-reflection and self-discovery, getting out of our comfort zones, even risking our safety or reputation. Sometimes it means stepping into the muck for the sake of the other.

It's a big, though call! So how do we start? Looking at today’s Gospel lesson can prepare us for the journey toward seeking God’s kingdom. In today’s story, Jesus sends out 70 people in pairs. He gives them several instructions about getting there and about what to do once they are there. Each of his instructions can speak to us today, as well.

The first thing Jesus tells the 70 is, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” In other words, “If not you, then who?” The work of seeking the kingdom of God and sharing the good news is hard work, but who is more qualified than you are, Carol? Or you, Mike? Or you, Laura? The laborers are few, and God needs each and every one of us!

Jesus warns then that he is sending us out “like lambs into the midst of wolves.” In other words, this is risky business. It might not be smooth sailing. It might not be fun, or even immediately rewarding. You might damage your reputation, or have to give up something important to you. I’ve been reading a book called Waking Up White, in which the author, Debby Irving, recounts her journey of discovering how her experience as a white, middle class, person with myriad connections has afforded her opportunities very different from those of her peers of color (not always better, just different). She vulnerably recounts some of the most painful discoveries she has made on her quest for racial justice, as she has had to give up assumptions of the world that she has taken for granted and held dear all her life. Her perspective is continually flipped on its head. That sort of self-discovery can feel like being a sheep in the midst of wolves! It’s hard work! But Jesus says, be bold in what you do – this is God’s work! And the Lord will provide what you need.

 “Greet no one on the road,” he goes on. This is not so much about being unfriendly as it is about the urgency. In my hometown grocery store, it’s impossible just to pop in for a quart of milk, because you inevitably see people you know – it takes an hour to get out! Jesus says there is no time for that. There are people who have not felt loved in a long time, or ever, who need to hear the good, life-changing news of Jesus. This is the job, the call, of Christians – to share that news, to show that love – and there is no time to waste! (Forget about the milk!)

“Whatever house you enter,” Jesus says, “first say, ‘Peace to this house!’” This is that good news bit. While “peace” was a standard greeting, the peace Jesus is talking about here is the peace of salvation, the peace of knowing that Christ died for you and that liberation from sin and death is what allows and empowers you to love and serve even the least of society – whether it is refugees in cages, or families here in Rochester who struggle to make rent, or those negatively affected by the institutional racism, or the earth itself. Christ’s death is what gives us the strength to serve! Every time you encounter someone, you are bringing to them that peace that is salvation, you are bringing them the love of God; every time you engage with someone, they are experiencing that love through you. Everything you speak and everything you do reflects the grace and salvation of Jesus Christ – and every greeting you make proclaims that peace of salvation. And when we greet people in this way, with this knowledge, we can say with confidence, as Jesus also instructs, “The kingdom of God has come near to you.” That love and grace and peace – that is the kingdom of God.

It isn’t easy. It isn’t always clean. Sometimes it brings us together with folks or situations or self-realizations we’d rather avoid. But notice at the end of the Gospel reading, that, “the 70 returned with joy!” They return having experienced the dawning of the kingdom, having experienced the joy one only feels when they have encountered the saving grace of Jesus Christ, the joy one feels when they have experienced the love of God in the absolute, risky, urgent, control-relinquishing, sometimes dirty, always saving love of God and neighbor.

Let us pray. Lord God, there is so much in this world that falls short of your hope and vision for us. Strengthen us and give us courage to show your love and grace and peace to the world, and bring about your kingdom on earth as in heaven. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.