Change Agents
July 11, 2010
The Good Samaritan
A father and daughter were walking to school oneday, having a conversation. The father popped a philosophical question to her, "What do you think life is?" Without missing a beat, she said, "A game." "And what’s the purpose of this game?" he inquired. She thought for a moment, then said, "Having fun, and helping people if they fall down."
The simplicity of a seven year old’s response to the question of what is life captures some of the meaning of today’s scripture passage. Because in some ways, the point of the story about the Good Samaritan is very simple. "Help people when they fall down."
But Jesus intended more than this simple understanding. For him, the parable is about change. He wants to change the way people live their lives. He wants people to build the kingdom of heaven, here on earth, through compassion. Not through laws, but through compassion.
The story begins when a lawyer asks a question to test whether Jesus knows the law: "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" The word inherit means "to receive from an ancestor by legal succession, legacy or bequest." The lawyer wants to know if this so-called rabbi, knows the law and can apply it to eternal life.
Cleverly, Jesus answers the question with a question. You tell me; you’re the lawyer. What’s written in the law? The lawyer, hooked by the invitation to show his knowledge, quotes the Torah: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind; and your neighbor as yourself." Jesus says if you follow those laws, you will live.
Wait a minute...what just happened....Jesus changed the conversation. Suddenly, the lawyer is looking at himself.
A colleague of mine tells a story about a children’s sermon he once preached. Sitting with his young parishioners he asks "So, what do you guys want to be when you grow up?" The answers were wonderful - teachers, firefighters, pirates, princesses, mermaids, one even said Jesus....But then one of the youngsters said, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Terrified by the change in direction of his sermon and the idea of publicly looking at himself, he stumbled around for an answer. But he remembers the interaction as an invitation to be in relationship with the children rather than the know-it-all minister.
Jesus invites the lawyer to be in relationship with him. The original question was a test about the law. Suddenly, the lawyer realizes that he wants more than a routine answer about law. Who is my neighbor? Tell me a story, one with me in it, so I can understand. At this point in their encounter something changes and the lawyer begins wrestling with his own soul.
Jesus likes it when people engage him in deep philosophical questions. He likes it when people enter into a relationship with him wanting to change the way they live their lives.
So he tells a story as he often does when confronted with complex questions. This story has his fellow traveler, the lawyer, in it: Two men, both experts in Jewish law, see a dying man on the side of the road and they walk away. They know the law, and though the law says to love neighbor, apparently taking care of themselves takes precedence. Besides, the law also states that they cannot touch a body that may be dead or dying. Then a third traveler, a Samaritan, an outsider, shows compassion. He helps the beaten and dying man. He touches him, soothes him, restores him to life. Which of these three was the neighbor? Asks Jesus.
The lawyer gets it. Jesus has changed the paradigm. He is not interested in talking about laws. He is talking about building the kingdom of God, right here on earth, through compassion. This simple but complex parable is about changing the way people travel through life together. It’s a story about changing the way we see ourselves and the way we interact with one another. We are encouraged to be Compassionate, always.
Compassion, I believe, is learned. We learn to be compassionate from our own experiences of hardship and suffering. Just like laws are learned, compassion is learned. And that connection is made in this passage.
A few years ago, I underwent surgery for a deformity of my foot. Entering the experience, I had no idea what it felt like to be severely injured or lame. But when my recovery was unsuccessful and my foot required a second intervention, I discovered a new compassion for all the people I have seen or known who have lost limbs to illness or war or who have been disabled by tragedy. Suffering changes the way we see ourselves and the way we interact with people. Suffering teaches compassion.
The lawyer reflects back to Jesus that the one who showed compassion was the good neighbor. The Samaritan, the despised outsider, was God’s change agent.
"Go and do likewise." says Jesus.
In his book "A Man without a Country", author Kurt Vonnegut writes about conversations between fellow travelers. In Pittsburg he met a young man who pleaded with him: "Please tell me it will all be OK." Vonnegut replied: "Welcome to earth young man. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, you’ve got a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of: For God’s sake, you’ve got to be kind."
As change agents for Christ, we are charged to usher in the kingdom of God by modeling compassion and kindness. Like him, we travel with all sorts of people. People we know, as well as strangers; people who are poor, rich, sick, dying, victims, perpetrators, lovers, haters. What binds us together as One Community is our capacity for compassion. We are called and commissioned to identify, humanize and embrace the most unlikely candidates for our neighborly relationships; and to BE compassionate always.
AMEN
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Church is Where You Are
June 27, 2010
There’s a story about a minister who preached one Sunday about guilt. Leaning out from the pulpit he shouted down to his congregation: "Everyone in this parish is guilty." A man in the front pew caught his eye. He had a broad grin on his face. Puzzled, the minister leaned out again: "I tell you, everyone in this parish is guilty." The man started to laugh openly. The irate minister asked, "Didn’t you hear what I said? What are you so happy about?" With a grin and another chuckle, the man replied: "I’m not from this parish."
If you’ve spent much time with me during these last six years, you have heard one of my favorite phrases: "I don’t do guilt and Tabernacle Church doesn’t do guilt." I say this with all sincerity. There really are churches and traditions that thrive, actually survive on guilt. Members are guilt-tripped for doing the wrong thing; for not doing the right thing; for thinking things; for not following rules; for following rules. And the twist of the guilt-tripping is ridiculous because it’s about God. Somehow, people are coerced into believing that God will punish them if they don’t live according to institutional rules.
There is an absurdity to this and at the same time, it is so real for many of us sitting here today. Guilt, as a friend of mine often says, is the gift that never stops giving.
With all of this said, I am about to lay down some good old-fashioned expectations, that may produce guilt. And if you feel a small twinge of guilt, Let it go or let it be a motivating factor.
I want you to come to church all summer!
If you are smiling right now, it may be because you are not a member of this church and you don’t really care that the minister has expectations of her congregation. Or, you may be smiling because you know what a push-over I am, and how easy-going worship at Tabernacle in the summer is.
You may be smiling because you know that our history is almost funny. I was told unequivocally that people stop coming to church in the summer...period. There is no particular reason or rhyme for this common behavior. We just do what we have always done.
The first half of the title of my sermon, "Church is Where You Are" is being recycled from 2 other sermons also preached the last Sunday in June. One at my former church and one here. Both were a response to the cultural phenomenon that people stop going to church in the summer up here on the North Shore. My hope, in preaching these sermons in the past, was to free everyone of their guilt, which I have now learned is not at all an issue, and to encourage everyone to find God wherever they find themselves. The phrase is a slant on the Buddhist phrase: "Wherever you go, there you are."
But, I have changed my mind!
Church is where you are, so long as you are in church!!!!! LOL
Seriously, I would love to see Tabernacle come to life in the summer. Every summer for these last six years, new people have come through our doors looking to find a church home. Former parishioners have returned looking to see if they feel as comfortable here as they once did. If you are not here, we will not represent our best selves.
But, not only that, those of us who are preaching this summer will be working hard on our sermons. We need you to support us. Most importantly, five deacons will be preaching. They will study a Bible passage, struggle with their response, find a way to articulate their understanding of the passage and then stand up here and share themselves with the congregation. It’s a very vulnerable experience. We do this on the Sundays I am on vacation every summer. I believe that it is a unique way of dealing with a minister’s vacation time. Many churches shut down or hire a supply preacher. But we take our congregational polity to heart and invite each other to preach. We believe there is no better way to deepen our conversation with God than to wrestle out loud, with scripture.
Each Sunday throughout the summer, there will be two liturgists; two people leading worship. One will be the preacher and the other will lead us in prayer and song. So pairs of parishioners will be preaching and teaching on Sunday mornings.
Which leads me to today’s scripture passage. Seventy people who have been following Jesus are commissioned to go ahead of him in pairs to preach and teach. He said to them, "The harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few." In other words, there are only 70 of you, just like there were only 70 elders in Israel during the exile. And like our exiled ancestors, we have a fantastic message for the world. God never gives up on us! God always heals, forgives and loves. I have been showing you God’s healing and transforming power. Now you try spreading the good news. Understand that there will be times that you will feel like lambs in the midst of wolves because people don’t know the power and possibilities available to them through faith in God. They will think you are crazy. But do not be discouraged. Accept people where they are and offer them a blessing of God’s peace. Stay true to yourself and trust your faith. And most importantly, trust each other.
Sent in pairs, the 70 leave as partners, trusting that as partners they will really BE there for each other.
Three weeks ago, I had a profound experience of support with a colleague of mine, Rev. Mike Duda. He is the minister at Wenham Church and he and I have worked together during the last 15 years in all kinds of ways. Never, however, have we carved out time to ride our motorcycles together until a few weeks ago. Mike is a very accomplished rider. He has been riding since he was a teenager. He has dabbled in racing and has attended annual motorcycle conventions around the country. I on the other hand, have been riding for 15 years and continue to work towards feeling confident as a motorcyclist.
Mike and I met after church on a Sunday and headed to the back roads of Georgetown, Haverhill, West Newbury and then on up into New Hampshire.
We stopped for lunch in Exeter and gabbed about seminary, ministry and our families. On our way back, we found a two-lane road that was comfortably wide, without traffic, and we coasted along for what would be about 10 miles. At mile three or so, I was in the lead, with Mike riding a bike’s length behind in what is called, formation. Suddenly, he rode up right beside me. For a second, I thought he’d made a mistake. I expected him to pull back and return to the traditional formation. But, instead, he continued to ride parallel to my bike. The feelings I started to have are indescribable. We were on two weapons. At any moment, either of us could have turned the wheel and killed the other person. So trust between us was instantaneously essential. To be trusted at that level, and to trust at that level, with the ability to destroy someone’s life, was profound for me. We rode like this for about 7 miles. When we arrived at our destination, I was speechless. And for weeks since that trip, I have been feeling the impact of our high level of camaraderie and trust.
I imagine, that the threat of rejection and even torture for the 70 people sent out by Jesus, required of them a profound trust - in themselves and in each other. Side by side they had to trust each other as lambs in the midst of wolves. And the feelings at the end of their story sound similar to the end of mine. They returned home to Jesus with great enthusiasm saying, "WE DID IT! This is great. This is awesome. Even the demons submit to us."
Jesus pointed out, as he was known to do, that everything that happened was about God. "Do not rejoice that the demons submit, rather rejoice that your names are written in heaven."
Partnering in faith with absolute trust in each other, is a profoundly spiritual experience. Which is why, I included the second half of the title of my sermon today. "Church is where you are, so long as you are in church." meaning.....summertime at Tabernacle is an opportunity to practice our faith in partnerships. The deacons need to trust that you will be here with them.
And you need to trust that their sermon will be good for your soul. Happy summertime!
AMEN
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