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6 Pentecost
June 26, 2005 Sermon
by Rev. Barb Hauck, Deacon
Readings
Road Trip
In early spring, a young man
came home and said "Dad, the guys want to take a road trip together this
summer – can we take our car?"
Father replied, "Son, I’ll tell you what. First, you have to get good
grades in school, keep your room clean, make sure the yard is neat, and
cut your hair. Come back in a few months and then we'll see."
Well, several months pass and the young man came into the house with his
report card in his hand. "Dad, I got great marks on my report card. I've
been keeping my room as neat as a pin, and the yard is always
ship-shape. How about letting us use the car?"
Father replied, "That's all true, son, but you didn't cut your hair."
Son said, "But, dad, Jesus had long hair."
Father replied, "Yes, son, you're perfectly right. And he walked
everywhere he went."
* * *
Well, let’s see now. Two weeks ago we heard Jesus give his disciples
“authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out and to cure every
disease and sickness.” Then last week, we heard him sending out his
twelve disciples “… like sheep into the midst of wolves.” Now we have
today’s gospel, where we hear, Do not think that I have come to bring
peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I
have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her
mother… We’re frequently reminded that the word ‘gospel’ is translated
good news – but that doesn’t sound like good news to me! What seemed to
start out as an exciting road trip now appears to have a pretty high
cost attached to it.
In the first century, when these words were written, family was
everything. Your identity was tied to your family… your reputation was
not your own, but the reputation of your family. When you met new
people, you “knew” them based on what you knew about their extended
family – and they “knew” you, based on what they knew about yours.
Without family, you had no identity to be stolen, you had no reputation
to lose… you had no place in society, and ultimately, no worth.
With that background, imagine what it would have been like to hear Jesus
say, I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set
a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a
daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be
members of one’s own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than
me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me
is not worthy of me. And whoever does not take up the cross and follow
me is not worthy of me. Just imagine what fear those words would have
created in the hearts of those living at that time.
Now don’t get the idea that Jesus was suggesting the breaking apart of
families was a good idea – he wasn’t, but he was preparing his disciples
for one probable outcome of following him. Yes, radical obedience to our
Lord exacted a high toll. That was, and is, the cost of discipleship.
The Jews had the Law… and many of those in power sought to keep their
power by questioning and challenging those who began interpreting the
Law in new ways. When some people turned to Jesus… and their close
friends and/or family members did not… the “sword” cut through –
separating people who had been in relationship with each other all their
lives. In Jesus’ day, as in ours, many felt the easiest route was to
uphold the status quo… follow the rules, don’t make waves, and for
Pete’s sake, don’t challenge those in authority. To challenge the status
quo was to risk loss – risk losing something precious: perhaps even the
security that comes with family. And as Master Yoda, in The Return of
the Sith says, “Fear of loss the path to the dark side is.” Opposing
forces tore families apart, tore communities apart… those afraid of
losing their power and those afraid of the responsibility claiming power
would place on their shoulders… those who feared what might happen if
they associated with this man who ate with tax collectors… and those who
risked it all and followed him because in him they saw hope.
A couple of weeks ago, a woman came to see me and she brought her 20-yr
old son along. After inviting them into my office, I asked them how we
could help them. She said, “he needs help,” and to her son, “tell her.”
“I screwed up last year and my family kicked me out,” he told me, “and
after getting my life back on track, I’ve come home to make amends to
people I hurt. They’ve taken me back and helped me get a job, but I’m
required to have steel-toed boots before I can show up for work on
Monday. My family has too many mouths to feed to help with that.” We
talked a bit, he shared some of his story, including how he hoped to
stay sober and provide support – financial and emotional – to his child.
I also asked, as I always do, where else they’d tried to find help and
what brought them to St. Paul’s. She quickly replied: “we were told this
church was like an oasis – that you welcome people with a place to sit,
something to drink, a rest from our struggles.” In other words, to them
St. Paul’s embodied hope.
The Damiano Center did not have what we needed, so we used the list he
had brought with him – a list of stores and the price range of boots
each store carried – to choose the place where we thought we’d get the
best boot for the least money. I asked them to go to the store ahead of
me, find the boots he needed… assuring them that when I finished seeing
people, I would be along to pay for them.
When I entered the store about 45 minutes later, they were waiting near
the door. He was so appreciative of the assistance we were providing… he
couldn’t stop saying “thank you.” And then… out of nowhere, when I
offered our discretionary fund check for payment, the clerk looked at it
and said, “I was baptized in that church. I go to my wife’s church now,
but I still think of St. Paul’s as my home.” “That’s wonderful,” I told
him – “what makes it still feel like home?” “What you’re doing now,” he
said, “…reaching out to people. I’ve seen the articles in the paper, and
I’ve watched with interest. My new church doesn’t do that – we wring our
hands, praying that we’ll have the money to pay the church’s heat bill…
and I think that keeps us from being connected to other people the way
we should be. I miss that.” I thanked him for his kind words and for his
kindness to this young man and his mother, and we left.
In the reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans we heard this morning,
the meaning of baptism deepens. Baptism is the portal through which we
move from one world into another. Paul is telling us that our rebellious
nature – that which separates us from God, ourselves, our friends and
neighbors and all of Creation around us, has been “crucified” with
Christ. Now when we say we have died with Christ, it does not mean we
stop loving the world to which we have died. Indeed, Jesus did not stop
loving the world for which he gave his life! But, as we, too, “walk in
newness of life,” we find our hearts, minds, and souls seeking to serve
others rather than being served. We find our priorities have been
adjusted – and rather than having a right relationship with God being
one of many things on our “to do” list, it becomes our “to do” list.
Grounded in Christ through our baptism, we find ourselves willingly
serving the servants of God… as well as those who express no interest in
serving God at all.
So, where’s the “good news” in all this? Well… perhaps it’s as simple as
the message contained in a bumper sticker I saw recently: it said, “When
the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know
peace.”
“God so loved the world that he gave his only son”… not because God is
all-powerful, but because God loves us. And God’s beloved son, Jesus,
came into the world “not to be served, but, rather, to serve.”
Discipleship requires love in action… and when we’re not sure which way
to turn, Herbert O’Driscoll tells us to look to our Lord, not as “a neat
predictable map for our lives – because there can be no such thing – but
as a compass, a reference point to which we must look again and again to
get our bearings.1” That mother loved her son enough to let go of her
fear she had lost him… and after regaining his health – regaining his
bearings, so to speak – he came back to embrace the life she had prayed
he would have.
During times of transition like we’re experiencing at St. Paul’s, many
find themselves fearful of current and impending losses – leading to a
“pulling in,” a re-trenchment, a re-focusing on themselves as they ride
out the waves of uncertainty. That storekeeper’s words were kind,
indeed… but lest we think we can rest on our laurels, we must remember
that from those to whom much has been given, much is expected. It’s true
that at St. Paul’s we have a long history of growing stronger as we let
go of our fears and continue looking and reaching out to others… thanks
be to God! And we must continue to do so… for whenever a government is
forcing people out of their homes and five minutes later those homes are
ablaze, as they are in Zimbabwe right now… whenever the children play
where they run the risk of losing life or limb because of buried land
mines… whenever people are going to bed hungry, without adequate
shelter, and very limited access to health care… whenever any of those
things might be true – and they all are today – there is much work to be
done. The first disciples of Jesus may have found their families split
apart over their beliefs… but they found a new family in Christ. In
Christ we are a family whose combined strength can, truly, move
mountains (I saw that in the parish kitchen this past Wed. evening as a
group of us moved a mountain of rhubarb and baking supplies… turning
them into bread and muffins to raise funds to fight hunger at CHUM’s
Rhubarb Festival!). Together, in Christ, we can and do make a
difference.
So, let us embrace this road trip through life as no other – by rolling
up our sleeves, opening our wallets, and joining our voices whenever and
wherever the need arises. If we raise the hackles of members of our
biological families… our family of friends… our family of colleagues…
our family within St. Paul’s, within the Duluth community, or anywhere
else – so be it. Let us answer God’s call to discipleship – offering
both radical obedience to our Lord and a heartfelt welcome to every
member of our Lord’s family. And may we be ever mindful of how grounded
in Christ we are… how willing to embrace the risks of discipleship we
are… how ready to serve those whose paths cross ours we are… how quickly
to respond to those in need we are… how blessed to be loved by God we
are. And all of that, my friends, is good news, indeed. AMEN.
1O’Driscoll,
Herbert, 1991. Prayers for the Breaking of the Bread. Boston, MA: Cowley
Publications, p. 119.