The little ones: Sept 28, 2024

 Year B, Pentecost 19                                                 Mark 9:38-50                                                                             

                There is nothing like a recommendation to cut a limb off to really start your morning right.   ^‘”If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off…if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off… if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell…”  I think most of us can accept that Jesus doesn’t actually want us to remove limbs and other parts of our bodies.  Speaking hyperbolically was a common form of rhetoric at the time and still is in many ways. However, that doesn’t mean we ignore what Jesus said or dismiss it. Jesus was trying to shock people. He thought this was important enough that he need to scare people into listening.

            Right before he recommended removing limbs, he said, “If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.”  Millstones are big.  At the time, they would have weighed over 3,000 pounds.   This is another example of hyperbole because there is no way someone could put that around their neck and then somehow be thrown into the sea.  But you get the picture. Jesus was saying that it would be better to die than put a stumbling block in front of one of these little ones.              

            Who are the little ones that Jesus is talking about? It’s a good time to consider the context. Right before our text for today, Jesus caught the disciples arguing about who was greatest.  He had just told them he was going to suffer and die. Instead of asking him questions to gain understanding, they simply distracted themselves by arguing about who was better.  Jesus responded by saying, “Whoever wants to be first of all must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a child in his arms and said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me…” 

            How did the disciples respond…they once again got competitive because someone else was casting out demons in Jesus’ name and this person wasn’t one of the chosen 12.  They wanted Jesus to reprimand that person who was doing good in his name.  Of course Jesus refused and tried to bring them back to what was literally sitting in front of them---a child.  Remember, that was what Jesus was talking about before they changed the subject.  He brought them back from competition, toward a vulnerable child. When he said little ones, he might have been talking about children, or people who might be new to the faith, or people who were vulnerable in some way.  Jesus was always trying to protect and care for the ones who were often ignored.

It might seem odd to us now that Jesus would be especially concerned about children. Everyone loves seeing cute children, especially if they are well behaved and quiet.  The way we treat children in our culture or social circles today is not how all people perceive or treat children.  We are accustomed to seeing our children doted on and loved.  We expect them to have family looking after them.  We are fortunate if that is what we are accustomed to witnessing, but it is certainly not the norm.  It is really only in modern history that children had rights, let alone the exalted place they currently hold in our culture. 

            In the time that Jesus was living in, children were the least of these.  They had no rights.  The mortality rate was high and people could not assume their child would live to be an adult.  Women had lots of children to ensure that at least some would live to carry on the family name and tradition.  Today, if there was a food scarcity, the children would be fed first. In Jesus’, they would have been fed last, if fed at all.  Not only were they not highly regarded, they were a nuisance.  They had to be taken care and could not contribute much to the family.  Therefore when Jesus told his disciples, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me…” ---That would have been shocking.  It was not sweet and sentimental.  It was shocking because Jesus was saying that welcoming this child was the same as welcoming him. 

            Notice that Jesus warns them about putting a stumbling block in front of the little ones who believe in him. From this description, we can see he’s focusing on believers, Christians. He is talking to the disciples who will be the ones teaching and leading these new believers when he is gone. This doesn’t mean that Jesus never talked about the importance of caring for all people---he did.  But right here, in this conversation with his disciples, he’s focusing on those who believe in him.

            Who are the little ones today? Obviously, actual children would still be included as “little ones.”  They have more rights than they once had, but are still incredibly vulnerable.  We have seen that in these horrific school shootings. But what about people who are simply new to the faith…or people who have left the faith because they have been deeply wounded by the misuse of Christianity? We need look no further than our LGBTQ+ community to see people who have been incredibly wounded by Christians—especially Christians in leadership. 

Now, you might say, well that’s not us.  That’s those other Christians. Sometimes, but the Episcopal Church has not always been as welcoming as we are now and there are still many Episcopal Churches where the LGBTQ+ community is not welcome.  We have also wounded the African American community with our complicity in slavery and then segregation and frankly, too many things to name.   These “little ones” are everywhere and they still need support rather than stumbling blocks.      

            While this language that Jesus uses is violent and unsettling, it shows us how much Jesus cared about the “little ones” then and now.  He wanted his disciples, the leaders of his future church to look out for those who needed protecting.  And we have failed Jesus again and again in protecting these little ones.  I could give you more examples, but you get the idea. 

            I am not saying that I love this language that Jesus uses, but it does show us how fervently he cared for God’s children—the vulnerable, the oppressed, those on the margins who have been kept out intentionally or by our inattention.  It’s a privilege to serve a God who cares for the least of these, who makes them a priority over and over again.  Jesus was warning against putting up stumbling  blocks, but I think we can do more than  just not trip people.  We can be companions for these little ones.  We can’t just say “all are welcome.”  That is not enough. Instead, we need to find concrete ways to welcome those who Jesus would consider the “little ones.”  Because in welcoming them, we are welcoming Jesus.

 

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 2^nd 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 1^st 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 19^th, 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 19^th 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. 

Mr. Rogers and Isaiah: December 8, 2019

Year A, Advent 2                                                              

Isaiah 11:1-11                                                                                 

            Lately my son has been talking a lot about good guys and bad guys (mostly bad guys).  Not only do humans fall into these categories, but animals do as well. Once we were playing a game where we were running from a lion.  Joshua decided to shoot the lion.  We don’t let Joshua have toy guns, but he can make anything into a gun.  I explained to him that I didn’t want him shooting a lion.  He replied, “But lions are mean.”  I then tried to explain to him that while lions are dangerous, they are not innately bad.  We then had to discuss whether there would be any circumstance where shooting a lion would be appropriate and it all got very muddy.  I decided perhaps we should avoid a safari for a family vacation.     I have noticed that in most popular children’s shows and almost all movies, there is always a bad guy or bad animal.  I guess it makes things interesting for a young mind.  But it makes me sad that at the age of 3, my son is already categorizing people into good and bad and thinking about injuring people and dangerous animals.  I have attempted to explain to him that God created us all good, but so far, that’s just not working.  If a 3 year old is already programmed to perceive people as good and bad and talk about shooting people, imagine how we adults have been programmed. Even if we intellectually have moved past that, it’s still there in the back of our minds lurking, like an unwanted intruder. 

            This reading from Isaiah (our first reading) is often referred to as “the Peaceable Kingdom.”  It’s a beautiful and poetic passage with a moving message. There are many works of art modeled after the image that Isaiah paints.  The reading from Isaiah last week was another famous passage.  It read: “They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” That passage is about peace between the nations, which is a fairly lofty dream.         This week the dream seems even more unfathomable.  “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.” Instead of peace between the nations, Isaiah is now envisioning peace within nature. All the animals are vegetarians.  The laws of evolution are basically tossed out. There is no longer survival of the fittest.  Every person—every animal—survives and lives together in harmony. It’s basically the Garden of Eden before the fall.  It’s a place where there are no good or bad people.  There are no good or bad animals.  All are just as God intended, inherently and permanently good.  

            This is the image that should be planted in our children’s mind. I’m not saying we should shelter them from all that is bad.  We can’t.  But it’s like we don’t even try to create this peaceable kingdom in our books or our movies.  It’s not even worth dreaming about or imagining.  That’s a sad thing.  It means that not only has hope died, but the dream that carried the hope is buried under our low expectations.    You might think, well that’s just too depressing. There is no point in dreaming or hoping for something that cannot be.  Isaiah didn’t think so when he wrote this text.  And if you think that the prophet Isaiah was some kind of Pollyanna, just read virtually any chapter in the book of Isaiah and you will see that this guy was living in a very precarious situation.  He was living in a land about to be invaded, preaching to a people who were miserable, angry, and scared.  It wasn’t exactly a utopian paradise. Isaiah called for repentance and spoke of the need for change.  He spoke the truth, even when it was unpopular. Yet in the midst of his dire warnings about the fate of Israel, he stopped and painted pictures like the one we heard today, a picture of the peaceable kingdom.  He wanted people to remember that God’s vision for our world was audacious and bold.  It wasn’t just meant to be a dream or vision but a reality, a goal to strive for. 

            Therefore, we can never stop painting these pictures, telling these stories of goodness and peace.  You might think, “That’s not effective. Then you’re just living in a fantasy.” However, consider the resurgence of Mr. Rogers. There are books about him, a documentary and now a film starring Tom Hanks.  Mr. Rogers didn’t fight bad guys.  He was just good.  He created a world of make believe where animals and people lived alongside one another in peace and harmony. He invited people into that world so they could see glimpse of what could be.  And he did more than just provide a dreamscape.        

         In the late 1960’s racial tension in America was high.  Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968 and race riots followed.  Segregation was technically illegal, but many places were still not integrated. One of those places was public pools.  Near the one year anniversary of Martin Luther King’s death, Mr. Rogers invited one of his neighbors over, a friendly black police officer.  They decided to cool their feet in a plastic kiddie pool.  Then they shared a towel.  Mr. Rogers never said a word about integration or race relations, but the image was clear. This is the peaceable kingdom.

What is amazing about that image is that when we look at it now, we don’t see anything remarkable about a white man and black man sitting beside one another with their feet in the same water.  That’s because it’s our new normal.  I’m not saying we have eradicated racism, we have a long way to go. But we have made progress.  We’re swimming in the same water now.  I’m not saying Mr. Rogers fixed the problem single handedly.  Many of our African American brothers and sisters suffered and died in that fight. But, it played a small part.

            Most of the time, a small part is the best we can do.  Yet we fear even doing that because we think, it won’t make any difference.  Despite everything Mr. Rogers accomplished in his life, he still wondered if he made any difference at all. But  we know he did.  On Friday, the church commemorated the life of St. Nickolas.  We do every year on December 6^th.  He was a bishop and probably attended the Council of Nicea, which was a big deal.   But what he is remembered for his kindness toward strangers in need. The church is not just hear to worship God serve others.  We are also hear to support one another be the people who God created us to be and build the world that God intended, the Peaceable Kingdom. 

Learning to Change: August 20, 2017

Year A, Pentecost 11                                                 
Matthew 15:10-28                                                     

            When I was little and I heard the story of the birth of Jesus, I thought he simply dropped out of heaven. There was no real birth.  One minute the manger was full of hay and the next minute there was a baby.  I never thought of him growing up, being a toddler, or an adolescent.  Part of the reason is that the Bible tells us almost nothing about Jesus before he turned 30.  He was a baby.  Then he was 12.  Then he was 30.  Some people believe that there were stories about Jesus as a child, but they did not make it into the Bible because he was a child, doing childish things.  For instance according to these stories, when a child spurned him, he retaliated.  When he got in trouble for making clay pigeons on the Sabbath, he turned the clay pigeons into living birds, because he could.[1]  These stories speak of a child learning how to handle his power. It makes sense.  If Jesus was fully human, then he had to learn and grow.  He had to change. He was not born in the body of 30 year old, nor was he born with the mind of a 30 year old man.

There were also occasions where other people encouraged him to change. One example is the wedding feast.  It’s a familiar story.  They ran out of wine.  His mother asked Jesus to turn water into wine.  He said, no this is not my time. He did not think he was ready. His mother persisted and he agreed. He performed his first public miracle at the request of his mother.  Another example is our reading from today. Jesus had left his home turf and was in the region of Sidon.  This is important because this is an area that was populated by Gentiles, not Jews.  These were people that good Jews did not interact with.  The disciples had probably never been in a place like this. 

            As soon as he got there, a woman came to him, shouting “Have mercy on me Lord, Son of David, my daughter is tormented by demons.”  I am sure that he noticed that she was using the Jewish title for him.  “Son of David.” She knew who he was.  Despite that, he tried to ignore her. That was the easy thing to do, maybe even the polite thing to do.  He did not want to have to tell someone that he could not help her. 

Yet this Gentile woman, was relentless.  She could not take a hint. She kept coming at him and by now she had everyone’s attention, even the disciples.  They wanted him to just get rid of her. He tried. He told her the party line. He was just there for the people of Israel.  She could not be deterred.  She knelt at his feet…his feet.  There was no avoiding her.  He said, “It is not fair to take the children’s crumbs and throw it to the dogs.” That was what they called Gentiles.  Jews called Gentiles dogs because dogs were dirty.  They did not keep the purity laws. The children were the Jewish people, the chosen people.  His first duty was to the children—the Jews. 

            Instead of acting offended or lashing out, this woman chose another tactic.  She responded, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” She understood and acknowledged what no one else had. That even if he was meant to tend to the Jewish people first, there was more than enough mercy to meet the needs of the rest of the world.  Even the crumbs, the tossed off waste of his abundant love was enough….enough for her, her daughter, and the world. 

            And here is when it gets tricky.  Jesus, the all-knowing, all powerful Messiah learned something in that moment.  All along, he believed that he was there for the lost sheep of Israel.  They were his primary mission. Yet he saw something in this woman. He saw perseverance, courage, faith and knowledge.  She understood him and his ministry better than the Pharisees, perhaps even better than the disciples. She knew that his love was so great, so powerful, that there was enough to go around.  She helped him see something that he had not yet seen.  Because of that he saw not just a woman kneeling at his feet, but a beloved child of God who was ready to hear his message and experience his mercy. 

            The reason people struggle with the idea of Jesus changing his mind is that implies that he not was right to begin with.  It means he was imperfect, that he was not all-knowing. Yet I believe that he was that much more powerful because he was open to change.  He was willing to learn, willing to learn from a woman, a Gentile, willing to let go of a belief that one ethnicity was better than another, willing to accept that his love was without limit.  There was enough to go around. He did not have to wait for the Jews to accept him before moving on to the next group. He could start his ministry to the Gentiles now.

As a church, we are called to be disciples of Christ, to follow his example.  Part of following this example, is being willing to change and to let go of our prejudice and fear.  Our world is a scary place.  Just this week, ISIS killed 13 people and wounded 100 in an attack on a popular street in Spain.  They gave no reason.  You don’t need a reason when your heart is full of hate.

Before that we experienced our own terror right here in Virginia.  We saw a display of hate that while not unprecedented, was certainly a wake-up call for those who thought that kind of racism was a thing of the past.  When I was a on a mission trip in Appalachia several years ago, I was driving alone looking for one of our groups. I was lost because GPS did not work there.  I drove down a stranger’s driveway hoping I could get some directions. Instead I ran into a member of the KKK.  He was not wearing a white hood, nor was he burning a cross.  He just wanted to share that I had wandered onto the property of a clansman. I was terrified, and I am a white Christian.  I kept thinking, what would have happened if our African American youth was with me in that car. I told myself that this man was just some crazy guy in the hills of West Virginia. 

Yet just last week, we saw it on a college campus.  We saw in on our newsfeed, twitter, facebook.  Hate was on full display.  The root of that hate is the belief that one group is better than the other, that one group is more deserving of God’s love.  Two thousand years ago, Jesus started something. He started to dismantle prejudice.  He told people that they were loved, no matter what they looked like, or who they were related to. He told people that they were to love their neighbor and their enemy.  As his disciples, we are called to continue his work.  Much like the woman who was seeking mercy, we cannot relent.  We must persist.  Like Jesus, we have to look at the prejudices within ourselves.  While we cannot produce miracles, we can bring healing to our community and our broken world. The first step in that healing, is acknowledging the brokenness.  In our Eucharistic Prayer for today, the priest says, “But we turned against you, and we betrayed your trust; and we turned against one another.” Then we break the bread as a symbol of Jesus broken on the cross, as a symbol of our own brokenness. That is not how it ends.  The way the prayer ends is that we all come to the altar. We all partake in the love that Jesus shared.   We become vessels of his love and grace. 

As those vessels, we have a responsibility to carry that love and grace.  While God’s love and grace has no limit, each person has a limit to the pain that they can bear.  No Jew should have to see someone wield a swastika, a symbol of their intended annihilation.  No African American should have to hear racial slurs hurled at them. Sometimes God’s grace looks like us, standing between hate and the recipients of hate. 

---

[1] The Infancy Gospel of Thomas: http://gnosis.org/library/inftoma.htm

 

Get in the boat! June 21, 2015

Pentecost 4, Year B                                                           
Mark 4:35-41                                                                         
     

            This Gospel reading is a powerful one and very evocative, especially for people who have experience on boats during storms.  People in this church have often told me that they experience God profoundly when on the water.  Sometimes it is the peace and serenity, sometimes the beauty and sometimes the terror.  This passage is primarily about fear.  There are a couple kinds of fear that are going on.  There is the fear of the storm itself.  That is what we tend to focus on.  The disciples were afraid that the boat would capsize and they would drown.  It was night time and they probably could not see very much.  All they knew was that they were in trouble and the person who they had seen accomplish miracles was asleep.  It was the immediate fear for their safety that led them to call out to Jesus and say, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”  That was a real fear, the kind of fear that you feel physically and emotionally.  It’s the kind of fear most of us are comfortable talking about.  Of course we would call out to God if we were in a sinking ship.

            But there was another fear that was going on here.  They were afraid of the other side.   They were not just taking a leisurely boat trip. They were not just out fishing for a couple of hours with plans to return to a familiar shore. They were going to an unknown territory.  They were leaving Galillee (their home) and heading to Gerasenes. Most of them had probably never been to Gerasenes, nor did they have any desire to go there.   The people over there were not believers of the one true God.  They were Gentiles. In Biblical times Gentiles were not perceived well.   They were the other.  You would not eat with them, talk to them on the street, and you definitely would not go to their homes and minister to them.

            So the underlying fear was not what would happen if the boat sank, but what would happen if they made it to the other side.  They knew how to ask Jesus for help in a sinking boat.  They were not sure how to ask for help when it came to their discomfort and disdain for an entire group of people. And when Jesus ended the storm with the words, “Peace! Be still!” they knew that this man was not a mere mortal.  This man had power over the wind itself.

            Our nation is reeling over the murder of nine individuals at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church.  It is so hard to know what to say in the midst of something so horrifying.  All week I have been thinking about this text from Mark and the fear in this text.  It occurred to me how connected hate and fear are.  There is an underlying climate of fear in our world.  And that fear leads us to separate from others.  It gives us an excuse not to get to know people who are different from us, people who we do not understand. And sometimes, that leads to hate.

            This fear is not a new thing.  This fear was around in Jesus’ time as well and he did everything he could to combat it.  Jesus was trying to bring people together.  This crossing of the water wasn’t just a physical crossing…it was an emotional crossing as well. He was telling his disciples that he would not let anything separate him from the people of God….the children of God.  And God’s love was not limited to any one group of people. It was open to all. 

            Jesus was determined to cross that divide no matter who or what tried to stop him.   Water could not stop him.  Storms could not slow him down.  The questions and fears of the people around him would not steer him off his path. He was unwilling to back down.  It was the love that he had for everyone, the commitment to all people that caused people to fear him and even hate him. In the end, it was that fear and hate that killed him.  Yet what the people who killed him did not know was that not only could water could not stop him.  Not only could people not stop him.  Not only could fear not stop him.  But death itself would not stop him from accomplishing his mission of sharing his love with all the people of this earth. 

            Sometimes we are inclined to domesticate Jesus.  We talk about his love and kindness and he was all those things.  But he was also powerful and strong.  When his disciples woke him up, he did not say, “Hey there, it’s going to be ok.”  He woke up and he rebuked the wind.  He said, “Peace! Be still!” “Peace.”  He then tuned to his disciples and said, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”  He refused to let people keep him from his mission, from sharing the word of God with all people. So he rebuked the wind and he demanded Peace.  He reminded his disciples that there was no room in that boat for fear, not as long as he was in that boat with them. 

            Just recently the families of those who were killed were given permission to address the shooter during his bond hearing.  While they expressed their grief and their anger, they also spoke words of forgiveness and mercy.   They asked that he repent and give his life to Christ.  All of those words were extremely moving, but what touched me the most were the words, “Hate won’t win. We have no room for hate.”

            This Gospel passage from today is often referred to as, “Jesus calming the storm.”  This is a misnomer.  This was not Jesus calming a storm, it was Jesus conquering a storm. There was no calm in the words, “Peace. Be still!”  These were words of action, words of power. They call us, the people of God to action as well. We are called to stop fearing the other and to cross the waters of hatred and divide.  We have no room for hate; not in our world and definitely not in our church.  There is not even room for hate in an enormous body of water. 

            The apostle Paul was someone who knew what it was to overcome hate.  He had been a persecutor of Christians.  But Jesus came to him and said, “Why do you persecute me?”  That changed him and he crossed the divide and became a Christian.  Today we read part of his letter to the Corinthians.  It ends with, “We have spoken frankly to you Corinthians; our heart is wide open to you.  There is no restriction in our affections, but only in yours.  In return…open wide your hearts also.”   God is asking us to open wide our hearts.  That is scary because our hearts can be fragile.  Hearing the words of the families who lost their loved ones is heart breaking.  Sometimes, we have to let our hearts break a little to let love in and release fear.  

            People have asked me how I still have faith in a world like this, where there is so much hatred and violence.  I don’t always have a good answer.  There are times when I just can’t think about the big picture.  I just focus on the things that are manageable, the people who can be helped.  Yet sometimes I think we need to allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by the anguish of it all.  The African Methodist Episcopal Church was formed in the end of the 18^th century so that African Americans could worship in relative freedom.  The sin of racism is still alive and even today they cannot worship in freedom. We need to weep for what is happening our world, feel the weight of other people’s pain.  We need to get in the boat, even when we are afraid that it will sink.  I am sure that does not sound hopeful, but here is the hope.  As long as we g   et in the boat, we will find that Jesus is there with us.  And when Jesus is in the boat with us, there is never room for hate.  Love will always conquer hate.