Readings

FIRST LESSON

The first lesson is from Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith by Ann Lamott

There is a woman in our choir named Ranola who is large and beautiful and jovial and black and as devout as can be, who has been a little standoffish toward Ken, a man with AIDS, also in the choir, who told us that right after his partner, Brandon, had died, Jesus had slid into the hole in his heart that Brandon’s loss left, and had been there ever since. She has always looked at him with confusion, when she looks at him at all. Or she looks at him sideways, as if she wouldn’t have to quite see him if she didn’t look at him head on. She was raised in the South by Baptists who taught her that his way of life – that he – was an abomination. It is hard for her to break through this. I think she and a few other women at church are, on the most visceral level, a little afraid of catching the disease. But Kenny has come to church almost every week for the last year and won almost everyone over. He finally missed a couple of Sundays when he got too weak, and then a month ago he was back, weighing almost no pounds, his face even more lopsided, as if he’d had a stroke. Still, during the prayers of the people, he talked joyously of his life and his decline, of grace and redemption, of how safe and happy he feels these days.

So on this one particular Sunday, for the first hymn, the so-called Morning Hymn, we sang “Jacob’s Ladder,” which goes, “Every rung goes higher, higher,” while ironically Kenny couldn’t even stand up. But he sang sitting down, with the hymnal in his lap. And then when it came time for the second hymn, the Fellowship Hymn, we were to sing “God’s Eye is on the Sparrow.” The pianist was playing and the whole congregation had risen – only Ken remained seated, holding the hymnal in his lap – and we began to sing, “Why should I feel discouraged? Why do the shadows fall?” And Ranola watched Ken rather skeptically for a moment, and then her face began to melt and contort like his, and she went to his side and bent down to lift him up – lifted up this white rag doll, this scarecrow. She held him next to her, draped over and against her like a child while they sang. And it pierced me.

SECOND LESSON

The first lesson is from the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 8, verse 31 through 38

Then Jesus began to teach them that the Child of God must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Jesus called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Child of God will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of God with the holy angels.”

This Week's Sermon

Date: March 8, 2009

Title: Redemption Begins in the Heart

Message Delivered By: Rev. Joe Mc Murray

When I was a young boy, I recall running home from school all excited because I got to play a role in the Spring play. My mother was on the phone when I walked in and I was so excited, I kept pulling on her chin away from the phone so she would look at me..

And I said, “Mom, I get to play hail in the Spring play!” She burst out laughing, and my feelings were hurt a little. She went back to her phone call and it was only later that I found out she thought I said “I get to play hell in a play.” Although if “hell” would have been in the play, it was a role that probably would have defaulted to me.

There was another little boy named Frank who was honored to have been chosen to play the part of Jesus in a Sunday school pageant. His mother was a bit worried, because it was a big part and he’d never done anything like this before.

They spent countless hours going over his part. Frank was a very forgetful child, and was having difficulty remembering his lines. His mother knew he would be upset if he forgot his lines while he was onstage, so she tried to think of some way she could help him.

Frank’s mom decided she would sit close to the stage for the production—right in the front row—so she could be on hand in case he forgot what he was supposed to say.

So the day of the play, she brought the script with her and sat right in the front.

The first part of the play was going very well, and Frank’s mother thought she wouldn’t be needed after all. And then they came to the part when Frank, as Jesus, was to give a long speech.

Frank started the speech and got through the first few lines of it, but then he suddenly hesitated and his face went white. He just stared straight ahead, and could not remember what to say. He froze.

Frank’s mother froze right along with him. Sitting in the front row, she took her cue and gestured to him, forming the words silently with her lips, but it didn't seem to help. Frank kept staring at her but he couldn’t make out what she was saying.

So she whispered very lightly, “I am the light of the world.” Frank just stared at her, not hearing what she was saying. She repeated, a little louder, “I am the light of the world.” Frank cocked his head and his quizzical look told his mother that he still had not heard what she said.

Finally Frank’s mother leaned forward and whispered the cue again, louder this time, "I am the light of the world." Frank suddenly beamed and with great feeling and a loud, clear voice said, "My mommy is the light of the world." Please pray with me:
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God, you are the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end, and everything in between. In this Lenten season, let us become lost in your love for us. Let us be immersed in waters of your deepest calling. Help us to become more of the people you want us to be. May my words and all of our thoughts be filled with honor and praise to you. Amen.
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Sometimes it’s hard to keep track of how many times Jesus rebuked the disciples. They were unable to understand many of the key elements of Jesus’ teaching. Again and again, Jesus patiently reminded the disciples that their ideals were stuck in human terms rather than in spiritual ones.

In today’s gospel from Mark, we heard Jesus trying to prepare the disciples for unpleasant news. He attempted to ready them for what he knew may be required—the unpleasantness, the messiness, the tragedy that occur when new ideas break open and are given birth, threatening the long-standing structures of power and those who wield it.

Just as martyrs and prophets have been doing for centuries, Jesus foreshadowed the events that were to unfold. Even in our short experience, we’ve heard of and seen those who have been revered by their cultures and faith communities, both secular and religious only to be reviled by the broader culture.

We’ve witnessed many great sprits, mystics and teachers who seemed to be in touch with a higher power, whose connections to the earth and to the Divine seemed far superior to our own. They were aware that the core of their calling, the essence of their teaching would likely put them in mortal danger if they dared follow that true sense of what God was asking them to say and showing by example the way they were supposed to live.

Without getting bogged down by the need to compare the charismatic individuals of our lifetime or to determine who was the greatest or which representative faith tradition should be given preference, suffice it to say that many of these prophets were aware of the risks they took by speaking out, by being legends ahead of their time, and particularly by representing those who were not part of the favored class or caste.

Many of our modern prophets, both religious and secular, Ghandi, Malcolm X, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Nelson Mandela, even Harvey Milk, suggested that they might be assassinated because of the messages they carried: the messages of redemption that God led them to speak.

This knowledge should not diminish but enhance the person of Jesus as prophet; we should not be disheartened but encouraged at the interpretation of the message of Jesus to the disciples: that what he had to offer them—a way of life for them and the Jewish people—would be seen as so radical and risky that it might take the loss of his life to for life itself to be transformed.

All this talk of redemption: what does redemption mean? What does redemption look like? Did Jesus speak of redemption in strictly theological terms? Did he refer to the redemption of the human soul alone, as has often been interpreted by religious doctrines? Or was Jesus indicating that it was personal redemption that would transform our lives from one way of living to a totally different form of life?

To redeem is to transform; to convert the essence of one thing to another. Redemption in a theological sense is to be saved from some state of sinfulness and delivered to a state of cleanliness or purity.

To redeem is also to restore something to its original state.

This understanding was used effectively for many centuries in religious teaching in the doctrine of original sin, which is, thankfully, now somewhat dated and relegated to theological history books, along with the story of Adam and Eve and the serpent and the apple, under the subheading “Don’t Let This Happen to You.”

Though the concept of redemption can easily be adapted to both a broad understanding and a personal one, it is the one that hits closer to home that will likely have the most impact and create the potential for the greater transformation.

In Ann Lamott’s piece, she wrote about Ranola, who was born into a life of hardship that she did not bring on herself. She faced prejudice, discrimination and untold humiliation simply because of the color of her skin.

And though Ranola was a religious woman of deep faith, she had been taught to believe a set of values that excluded valuing others who did not fit into those values—in effect, devaluing any relationship other than the most accepted type of relationship.

As Lamott writes, Ranola apparently felt she didn’t need to deal with anything she could not see (or would not see). Ken, the man with AIDS, was just such an invisible person.

But for Ranola, the first part of redemption came with acknowledgment. Ken had the type of personality that caused others to take notice. And Ranola could not help but observe as others observed; but she also noticed when Ken failed to show up for several weeks; his absence left a hole in the community to which she belonged.

Another part of redemption for Ranola—witnessing—took place when she saw Ken sit limply in the chair while others stood to sing praise to God. In those moments, she connected the action of her life (praising God in thanksgiving) to the purpose of life (loving unconditionally and refusing to allow the wounded to go unhealed). It was in her witnessing that she allowed herself to be transformed.

The last part of redemption for Ranola—movement and action—took place immediately. Ranola refused to stand without helping Ken to stand. Her emotions led by her heart overcame the fierce doctrine that had kept her tethered for so long, probably since she was a little girl, into the belief that some were not worthy.

Ranola made the connection between her own suffering and the suffering of another human being. And though they were very different types of suffering, they were very much the same.

In those moments, Ranola experienced a redemption that was as great as any theological concept taught in catechism class.

Why should we waste our time trying to preserve our own lives instead of living them? Ranola crossed a river and reached the other side. And she carried a disease-stricken man, a marginalized man back across the river with her—something she could never have conceived of doing before. In so doing, she bore her own cross of prejudice and suspicion and reviled them by exposing her own brand of prejudice and injustice.

We are so fortunate to be one family here, gay and straight together. As I have said to many of you, that was one of the most compelling factors in taking a very close look at MCC Key West. It told me that a lot of healing had happened in this church—and that though there may still be miles to go, our bags are packed and we are on the journey.

Transformation had to have taken place in order for us to be here, today, worshipping together. Though the issue of sexual orientation in this church community appears to be a moot point, it remains a point of contention throughout the country and throughout the world.

It bears remembering how we got here.

So how do these lessons affect us? Better yet, how can they not affect us?

Sisters and brothers, we must always nudge put our gearshift from “neutral” or “reverse” and keep it in “drive” – we must watch, listen and learn. When we acknowledge that redemption begins in the heart.

Wen we use the experiences of our lives—the hurts, the traumas, the challenges—as vehicles on our own road toward redemption—a redemption that helps us to realize the realm of God on earth and in the here and now—then our capacity to love expands.

God did not create us to be limited entities, but to broaden and expand and hold more and more and more. It is this expansion that brings us closer to the mystery of God, which also broadens and expands through our redemption. And when we keep our own redemption in front of us, we help to bring redemption to others—redemption and transformation.

May it be so. Amen.