Sunday, June 28, 2020

As you are: June 28, 2020


Year A, Pentecost 4                                                           
Matthew 10:40-42                                                               

            There is no church that doesn’t want to be welcoming, at least not any church that I know. So when we locked the doors of St. John’s and put a sign up that we were closed, it felt like a very dark day for me.  I knew it was what we had to do, what the law and the bishop said we must do, but it felt contrary to everything I had ever been taught, or tried to teach others.  However, we found new ways to be church.  We stopped inviting people in and started going into people’s homes with our online services and zoom coffee hours.  Instead of inviting people into the church to have lunch, our outreach team takes bag lunches to others.  We, like many organizations were forced to leave our comfort zones and our safe places.
            Chapter 10 of Matthew encompasses Jesus’ instruction to the 12 apostles.  It begins by telling them what to do if they are not welcomed when they are bringing the Gospel to others.  The instruction contains one of the more well known instructions in the Bible, “If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town.” Or as Taylor Swift famously sang, “Shake it off.”  Matthew goes on to warn about persecution and even the need to separate from families.  This life of the apostle wasn’t going to be an easy one.  One thing that is consistent through the instructions to the disciples is that Jesus was sending people out.  He wasn’t talking about bringing people into the church or the community, he was sending disciples into the world, which leads me to believe that Jesus would approve of the way we have been doing church lately. 
            In our reading for today, Jesus’ instructions shifts a little.  Before, he was warning about the possibility of the disciples not being welcomed.  Today, he talks about the rewards of welcoming a disciple of Christ.  Because whoever welcomes  a disciple of Christ, welcomes Jesus.  That is something that we have probably all heard.  We understand that Jesus calls us to treat the least of these as we would treat him.  But this text feels a little murkier to me.  “Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet….whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person….”  What does it mean to welcome a prophet in the name of a prophet? I don’t know how to welcome a prophet. I am not sure even how to welcome a righteous person.  Would we welcome them some other way than an unrighteous person? Aren’t we supposed to welcome everyone, regardless of who they are? That is what the Episcopal Church sign says, “The Episcopal Church welcomes you.”
            The phrase “In the name of” is a Jewish expression meaning “because one is” [1]  Now this could mean a few things.  It could mean that the welcome was to be extended because the person being welcomed was a prophet or a righteous person. But another interpretation could be more literal, that a person is not to be merely welcomed in the generic “we welcome everyone” way.  It is beyond that.  Instead, what Jesus is asking is that we welcome each person exactly as they are, not in the way the world may see them, but as their authentic self.[2] We don’t welcome people for who we want them to be, but because of who they truly are.  The goal is to reflect the Kingdom of God where we are welcomed exactly as we are. We are respected and appreciated as individuals. 
So often when we welcome people, that welcome comes with a certain degree of expectations. In the Episcopal Church, that means they sit when we sit and kneel when we kneel.  We are polite and always know that when the priest says, “The Lord be with you”, the response is, “And also with you.”  Obviously the Episcopal Church is not the only place that puts expectations on people.  Almost every community has some norms, even the small communities of our families.  But we cannot let the norms supersede the welcome.
Recently I was talking to some people from our church about how awkward masks are, especially when you can’t always recognize people who you really should recognize.  When we come back to church, we are going to be wearing masks.  We are all going to look a little different, feel a little different.  It will be the same space, but we might not feel the same exact comfort as we once did. We can mourn that (and that is ok) but I wonder if this in an opportunity to welcome one another in a totally new way---let go of previous expectations about how to dress and act.  Instead of knowing someone by their face, we listen to their stories.  We let go of our more superficial expectations and instead bask in the presence of another one of God’s children.
That is one thing this pandemic has taught us, how precious each one of us is, not only in God’s eyes, but in the eyes of one another. We are not precious in spite of our differences, but because of our differences.  I hope that we can consider that the next time we see someone or talk to someone.  How can we welcome that person exactly as they are?  It sounds so simple, but it’s not.  Consider how often you are with someone and think, well if only they could do this differently, or think differently, then they would be so much easier to get along with.  The last line of our opening prayer for the day (what we call the collect) is, “Grant us so to be joined together in unity of spirit by their teaching, that we may be made a holy temple acceptable to you; through Jesus Christ…”  We worry so much about how to be acceptable to other people or how to make other people more acceptable to us…but really we just have to be acceptable to God.  Each one us is born to be God’s temple. No mask or amount of hand sanitizer can change that.
                                           




[1] Boring, M. Eugene, The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. VIII (Nashville: Abingdon, 1995)  p 263


Monday, June 8, 2020

My Bias--My Son: June 7, 2020


Year A, Trinity Sunday                                                                     
Genesis 1:1-2:4                                                                                   

            I have preached many sermons in which I have talked about how we are all made in the image of God.  Sometimes when speaking to individuals, or blessing someone at the altar rail, I provide the same reminder.  I love the idea that we are each made in the image of God. I also believe that if we were able to see one another in that image of God, there would be no violence, no hatred, no racism, no sexism.  There would be peace.
            This week when I was studying this text and reading various commentaries, I saw something else.  First, let me just give you a little information to impress any Bible nerds in your life. There are two creation stories in the Genesis. The one that is usually depicted in art, literature and cartoons is the 2nd creation story, not the one we heard today.  That one has God molding man from the earth and then creating woman from the rib of the man.  This first creation story has God creating both man and woman at the same time.  “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness…”  Then later, “So God created humankind in his image.” I have always liked the 1st story because of its emphasis on humanity being made in the image of God.  But here is what I noticed this time around, God doesn’t tell one human he/she is made in the image of God. He tells both. He tells humanity, that we are all created in the image of God.
            That is more than just inclusive.  It doesn’t just mean each one of us is made in the image of God (which would be radical enough), it means that the together we form the image of God--that we are dependent on one another to reflect that image of God.  We cannot fully represent the image of God as individuals….we have to do it together.
            You see when I first looked at this text with the news of racial injustice, the killing of people because they are black, the peaceful protests that transformed into riots… Well I knew it was obvious how I would preach this sermon.  I would remind us all how important it is to love one another and protect one another as each one of us is made in the image of God.  And I am sure that would have been a fine sermon.  But the problem with that sermon is that ignores how connected we are, how dependent we are on one another.
            We, as the human race, are made in the image of God.  But we can only fully and completely reflect that image of God as one, as people working together instead of tearing one another apart. The best analogy is that of a quilt.  My brother and sister in law adopted twin girls from China.  They asked my mom (who was a novice quilt maker at the time) to make a quilt called the 100 wishes quilt.  It is a Chinese tradition that when a baby is born, friends and family send in a piece of material with a wish or prayer for that child.  There are 100 patches all sewn together representing the love of family and friends.   Because the patches come from so many different people, they don’t match. They are not coordinated. Yet when the quilt was complete, it was beautiful, all of these different pieces coming together to represent our love for these girls we had not yet met. 
            When God created humans, I believe that was his vision, it was a wild assortment of patterns, all coming together in a creation  that would provide protection for not only one another, but the whole earth.  Yet this beautiful quilt that God created is being torn apart.   
            Now I get it, black people are not the only ones suffering right now. I understand that.  But I also know that slavery dug its nails deep into the fabric of our nation from its very beginning.  White Americans (for a really long time) refused to see God’s image in our African brothers and sisters.  The American quilt was torn before it was ever sewn together.  So my friends, we have work to do.  First let me assure you, this is about more than politics.  This is about God’s creation.  This is about how we show God’s love for who and what God created.  We cannot claim to be the image of God if we are not including others in that image, others who look differently, others whose lives are more vulnerable than ours.
            Now I am going to own up to something right now.  I am totally biased. My beautiful son is black and I am worried for him. I heard George Floyd call out for his mother and I heard my baby’s voice.  But I am not the only one who has a black son. You all do.  Joshua was baptized with many of you present.  You braved a huge storm to sit outside and support us.   You were asked, “Will you by your prayers and witness help this child to grow into the full stature of Christ?” You said, “We will.”  I know that the spirit of St. John’s is a strong and indomitable spirit. I know how deeply you each care for the people of this church, and the Hampton community which is marvelously diverse.  I believe that with God’s help, we can sew this quilt back together.
 I am asking for your help.  What does that look like?  For us, it starts by taking politics out of this conversation. While our church isn’t very racially diverse, we are politically diverse. There are no sides here.  A group of pastors from the downtown churches are in the process of organizing a prayer walk to Emancipation Oak on June 19th, which you may know is an important date.* I would love to see as many of us there as possible. I want us all to walk together because when we do so, we will not only see God’s Image--We will be God's Image.  

* On June 19th of 1865, the Emancipation Proclamation was read to the enslaved Africans Americans in Texas—which was the last confederate state to have the proclamation announced.