Readings FIRST LESSON The first lesson is from Reimagining Spiritual Formation: A Week in the Life of an Experimental Church by Doug Pagitt The word community has become the buzzword of the day. Part of the problem with buzzwords is that their overuse can leave them with virtually no meaning at all. In our current vocabulary, community can mean everything and nothing at the same time. It can mean people who live on the same street, or people of a similar ethnic background, or people who think the same way about issues. In a Christian context, local community means the people with whom we live in physical proximity. It includes the people we live near, work with, drive past, and stand next to in line. It includes those we choose to recognize and those we do not. I find it's often the case that people use the word community to refer to those who are most like them. But the story of God from Abraham to Jesus calls us to a deeper understanding of ‘our neighbor’ that embraces those who are not like us at all—and those with whom we worship week by week. Oddly, many Christians find that their fellow congregants play no more crucial a role in their daily lives than the people they walk past in the grocery store. They share a common experience from time to time and receive services from the same organization, but little else. This kind of intimacy requires us to move beyond mere accountability. Accountability is built on the notion that a person will do her own work as she seeks to live a Christian life while others do what they can to keep her on track. This may seem like the best local community can offer us, but we should strive for more. We are called to vulnerability. We should seek relationships where we don't merely ask others to hold us to living in the way of Jesus, but where we invite them to participate in our efforts to do so. We should try to open our lives up in such a way that others do not simply keep us on track, but become actual agents of redemption and change. SECOND LESSON The second lesson is from the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 3, verses 20 through 35 Then Jesus' mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around Jesus; and they said to him, "Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you." And Jesus replied, "Who are my mother and my brothers?" And looking at those who sat around him, Jesus said, "Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother." |
This Week's Sermon Date: August 9, 2009 Title: We Are Family Message Delivered By: Rev. Dr. Joe McMurray I know I don’t say much to you about heaven or hell, or whether or not I even believe there are such places. I know I focus a lot on the life that we live now, what we do with it, and whether or not we believe we are acting in good faith on behalf of what we think God’s will is. Those of us who have read the scriptures frequently know that heaven is mentioned in both the Old and New Testament, while hell is rarely mentioned – and its reference appears only in the New Testament. There were many events written about in the Old Testament that give us a good indication of what the authors thought an uncomfortable afterlife might be like. Some New Testament authors described both heaven and hell as existing right here on earth. Some believe in the somewhat dated descriptions of heaven and hell—with hell portrayed as an insufferable fiery pit and heaven pictured as a lush, magnificent palace heavily protected from unwanted intruders by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. Margie and Grace were partners, and neither ever thought much about hell or heaven in their 34 years together. That is, until after a long illness, when Margie died and arrived at, of all places, the Gates of Heaven. As she waited for someone to greet her, she peeked through the Gates, where she saw a beautiful banquet table exquisitely set. Sitting all around were her parents, her grandparents, a few of her friends, and so many other people she had loved in her lifetime who had died before her. They saw her and began calling to her—"Hello, Margie! How are you? We've been waiting for you for such a long time. It’s so good to see you!” Finally, this great imposing figure appeared and startled Margie. “Hello,” he said, “I’m St. Peter.” Margie said to him, "This is such a wonderful place. May I come in?" "Certainly,” said St. Peter, “but you have to spell a word for me, first." Margie was astounded that such a test would be imposed on her, but not to offend St. Peter, she answered, "Of course. What word do I have to spell?" the woman asked. “The word is Love," said St. Peter. “And take all the time you need.” St. Peter, knowing that Margie clearly knew how to spell “love” smiled broadly. Margie correctly spelled the word and St. Peter welcomed her into Heaven. Margie thoroughly enjoyed her new environment. Time flew by very quickly. About two years later, Margie came back to visit St. Peter at the Gates. As they chatted, he asked her to watch the Gates for a short while, as he had other business to attend to. As Margie sat guarding the Gates, she was shocked and surprised that her partner, Grace, appeared. "Grace, I'm so surprised to see you!" Margie said. "I’ve missed you so much! How have you been?" "Oh, I've been doing pretty well since you died," said Grace, rather coolly. “Shortly after you were gone and left me with all those bills, I went back to work. I started dating Jennifer, that really beautiful young nurse who took care of you when you were sick. You know, she and I hit it off right at the start. And they finally approved gay marriage, so Jennifer and I got married a few months later. You remember all those lottery tickets I used to buy, and you’d complain all the time that I was throwing money away? Well, I finally won the lottery. So Jennifer and I sold the trailer and bought a huge mansion north of town. And then, since I was finally able to travel, we took cruise ships all around the world to all the places you and I wanted to go but could never afford. In fact, I was on a cruise ship in Alaska when I fell overboard and drowned. Next thing I knew, I found myself here.” “I see. It all sounds so wonderful,” said Margie, tersely. “So you were finally able to do all those things we wanted to do, but could never afford to do. That’s nice. I’m really happy for you.” Meanwhile, Grace looked into the gate and saw the beautiful banquet table exquisitely set. Sitting all around were her parents, her grandparents, some of her and Margie’s friends, and so many people she had loved who had died before her. They saw her and began calling to her—"Hello, Grace! How are you? We've been waiting for you for such a long time. It’s so good to see you!” Finally, Grace said to Margie, "This looks like such a wonderful place. Is it as wonderful as it looks?” “Oh, it’s much better than it looks,” said Margie. “You just can’t imagine.” “Well, how can I get in?" asked Grace "It’s simple,” said Margie, “all you have to do is spell a little word for me, first." "What word is that?" asked Grace. Margie said, “The word is ‘chrysanthemum’ and you have five seconds. Go!" Will you pray with me? God, thank you for your tremendous generosity to this community. Thank you for the work you have continually placed before us. We know we do not have to accept it, and we know you will love us regardless of the choice that we make. Help us, God, always, to make wise choices; to commit to your will, as we understand it; and to unburden those who are so weary they can no longer keep sight of you. May we be the vision of you that our sisters and brothers are so desperate to experience. And may my words and all of our thoughts be filled with honor and praise to you. Amen. As we continue skipping around the lectionary, Mark’s gospel lesson finds us peering in at the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry. Wherever Jesus went, the crowds followed him. There were many who stayed to listen to him wherever he went. But just prior to today’s account, Jesus had just chosen the twelve who would remain with him. So these were important times. Jesus had just returned home, but the crowds were overwhelming and his kinfolk could not understand what Jesus was doing. He frightened them because so many strangers were following him as if he was some great ruler and they feared both he and they would be in trouble with the authorities. The authorities accused Jesus of having Beelzebub with him and of cavorting with evil. It just goes to show that just as civilization has supposedly progressed over the centuries, in many ways it really hasn’t progressed at all. The Pharisees said that Jesus cast out demons because he had the power of demons within him. Jesus mocked them, saying that it would be counterproductive for Satan to cast out Satan. Jesus said that a house divided against itself will not be able to stand. Sadly, that is a lesson that has been proven again and again in human history. It is a lesson, I’m fearful, that is repeating right before our eyes. But the most shocking part of today’s lesson is what Jesus has to say about family. When told his own mother and brothers were outside waiting for him, Jesus responded by saying, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” They are here. The ones who are listening to me, the ones who believe in what I’m teaching them, the ones who will follow God’s calling—these are my brothers and sisters and mother. There is nothing more satisfying than having lived a happy family life. Once you reach adulthood, nothing, it seems, can bring more joy than the family reunions, the continued gatherings, the memories that we hold so dear of the ones we grew up with, the ones we learned from, and the ones who love us still. But many people come from broken homes. Many come from lives that were rarely happy and content. Whether these homes were torn apart by divorce, abuse, ignorance, violence, abandonment or ambivalence, many do not relish that spirit of kinship that we read about and hear about, particularly during the holidays. And when you come right down to it, how much of the supposedly happy times were also times filled with highly dysfunctional people who refused to acknowledge that they and their relatives also had their own unique quirks, idiosyncrasies, and eccentricities which made life far from uneventful, and I don’t mean in a good way. But what have we done, then, to survive? No one is an island, after all. We may live on an island, and some of us may try to be islands and keep people at a distance, but that’s not really why we’re here. We’re here to interrelate. We’re here to care. We’re here to love. We’re here to serve. We’re here to look out for one another. Many of us have our own little networks of friends that are really more family than friends. In fact, we spend more time with these people than we probably ever did with our relatives; and we’re probably a lot happier doing so. After all, we’re too alike our families to get along. We have the same traits, the same habits, the same fears—each of our learned behaviors was also learned by our siblings and taught to us by our parents. Sometimes we resist them; we may even hate these tendencies we have, but it doesn’t matter. They are still a big part of us. And we come together as family in our worship community, as well. That’s where we meet so many people all at once that remind us of our families of origin! Is that why church life is so interesting all the time? I get it now! I can spot your dysfunction a mile away, and I can even tell you what color it is, how old it is and how much it weighs! And what’s even more fun is that you can do the same thing with me! We also come together as family when we offer kindnesses to people. Sometimes our kindnesses are offered to strangers out of our own generosity. We may get burned—we may feel used from time to time—but underneath it all, we know it’s how we’d like to be cared for if we were really in need. And so—we are family. All of us—one great big, happy (sometimes), unique (mostly), dysfunctional family. Doug Pagitt says we are called, as Christians, to make our faith communities places where we really care deeply for one another. He says we should become intimate with one another in meaningful, transformative ways. Not just the surface stuff but all the heavy stuff beneath that. Pagitt says, and I agree with him, that this takes us beyond the role of accountability or responsibility. “Okay, I will take this much of the pie. I will be responsible for this part. Once that’s done, then I’m done. If everybody does their job, the rest should work on its own.” Pagitt says this isn’t enough. It’s not enough to split our calling as a community right down the middle. Fifty-fifty and not an ounce more am I participating. I will help to make sure you finish your part, too. And that’s as far as it goes. Pagitt believes we must allow ourselves to be vulnerable, not just holding each other accountable to finish our portion, but to invite others to participate, to help us to achieve what we need to come into wholeness. This is family. This is what the contemporary notion of family can mean. When he accepted the Republican nomination for the U.S. Senate from the State of Illinois in June, 1858, Abraham Lincoln wrote: "A house divided against itself cannot stand." I believe this government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved—I do not expect the house to fall—but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing, or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate extinction; or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new, North as well as South.” Lincoln also said this: “We see a lot of framed timbers, different portions of which we know have been gotten out at different times and places and by different workmen—and we see these timbers joined together, and see they exactly make the frame of a house or a mill, all the tendons and mortises exactly fitting, and all the lengths and proportions of the different pieces exactly adapted to their respective places, and not a piece too many or too few, not omitting even scaffolding—or, if a single piece be lacking, we see the place in the frame exactly fitted and prepared yet to bring such piece in.” What is missing from the framework of our church? Which parts of our calling are the weakest and can we achieve them on or own? Perhaps we need to invite others in to make our dreams of service to others a reality. Perhaps we need to expand our idea of what family means. Perhaps those with whom we have the least in common must be invited in and be drawn closer to us that we may learn all the lessons and challenges life has to offer. May we continue to follow where God is leading. Amen.
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