Matthew 10:40-42 (The Message)
“We are intimately linked in
this harvest work. Anyone who accepts what you do, accepts me, the One who sent
you. Anyone who accepts what I do accepts my Father, who sent me. Accepting a
messenger of God is as good as being God’s messenger. Accepting someone’s help
is as good as giving someone help. This is a large work I’ve called you into,
but don’t be overwhelmed by it. It’s best to start small. Give a cool cup of
water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or
receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won’t lose out on a thing.”
35 years ago, on June 7th, I was ordained in the United
Methodist Church. It was the most
exciting, and also depressing day in my life.
I was ordained at beautiful Lake Junaluska, in the North
Carolina mountains, by Bishop Bevel Jones.
Nancy was there with me, but my parents were unable to
come because Stewart was battling his cancer and was at a low point at that
time.
All my life, God and I have wrestled.
Unlike Jacob (my hero), never have I felt like I have
pinned God (or even God's angels)
But despite getting my lunch handed to me repeatedly ---
I have never felt like God gloats it over me --- instead --- I have always felt
a inordinate peace because I have felt loved and accepted (despite my failings
and misgivings).
Five years ago, I felt like I had done my part in this
institution known as "the church" -- that --- to be completely honest
--- is much more the source of my angst than God.
I decided, after 17 years at Ridge Church in Munster to
"retire", not really retire, because I was only 55, and unless you
are blessed with inherited wealth, a pastor cannot retire at 55.
Instead I jumped at the first job that came my way.
The first few months were great, but as I got more
engaged, I realized that the organization had no moral principles guiding it
--- and that I was being forced to compromise my values.
And it was during this time that God seemed to be
throwing me to the mat over and over again.
For some reason, and I honestly don't remember why --- I
started reading Rachel Held Evens' book Searching
For Sunday
Every day, during my lunch, I would read a chapter of
Rachel's book.
What is funny is she put voice to all the feelings that I
had been having about the church.
Rachel Held Evans grew up in Dayton, Tennessee
I imagine some of you are
familiar with Dayton, Tennessee --- it was the site of the 1925 Scopes trial
over the teaching of evolution.
Rachel's father worked at Bryan
College which was founded in honor of William Jennings Bryan “to teach truth
from a Biblical perspective.”
Bryan had defended the state law
barring the teaching of evolution in the Scopes trial.
Unfortunately, we still battle
the issue of creationism vs. evolution.
With the latest court case being
tried in 2005
It is in that conservative, evangelical, fundamentalist
milieu that Rachel grew up.
Her family was involved in a fundamentalist/literalist
church community.
Her first book was published in 2010, when Rachel was 29
years old. The book was called,
“Evolving in Monkey Town,” the title a reference, of course, to the Scopes
case. It was republished in 2014 under the title “Faith Unraveled: How a Girl
Who Knew All the Answers Learned to Ask Questions.”
It was the problem of evil that pushed her to challenge
the faith that had been nurtured in her since she was a child.
That same question that many of us have --- is God
responsible for hurricanes, or cancer, or . . .
How can a good and loving God, inflict indiscriminate
pain on God's own children?
In the prologue to Searching for Sunday she writes about
speaking at an Evangelical Youth gathering in which she was asked to explain
why young people were leaving the church:
I told them we’re tired of the
culture wars, tired of Christianity getting entangled with party politics and
power. Millennials want to be known by what we’re for, I said, not just what
we’re against. We don’t want to choose between science and religion or between
our intellectual integrity and our faith. Instead, we long for our churches to
be safe places to doubt, to ask questions, and to tell the truth, even when
it’s uncomfortable. We want to talk about the tough stuff—biblical
interpretation, religious pluralism, sexuality, racial reconciliation, and
social justice—but without predetermined conclusions or simplistic answers. We
want to bring our whole selves through the church doors, without leaving our
hearts and minds behind,
What she said is nothing new --- I have friends from my
youth who would use those same reasons why then don't participate in the church
and why they left --- decades ago.
If I we were in person I would ask you ---- especially
those my age and older whose kids are now out on their own --- how many
participate in a religious community today?
My three girls all left the church --- although I am
thankful that during this season of physical distancing and zoom that two of
them join Meridian Street every Sunday morning.
But I suppose hearing me preach
their whole lives makes it a challenge to walk into many churches --- many United
Methodist Churches --- that pride themselves on segregating themselves from the
sinners.
In our Gospel passage from Matthew today, we hear a
continuation on the theme of being called by Jesus.
The NRSV says succinctly
Whoever welcomes you welcomes me,
and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.
I wonder if the converse is also true?
Whoever we
welcome, is welcomed by Jesus?
I am not sure that I like thinking about it that way,
because it puts a huge burden of responsibility on me --- on you.
How many
how
many times have we not welcomed some of God's children because
of
their skin color
of
our perception of their financial status
of
their sexual orientation
or
even their age
Let me ask you a question:
When Jesus healed someone --- how many times did he check
their credentials first?
How many
times did he quiz them about the Torah?
Or ask if
they believed in him?
Jesus welcomed everyone --- and I am convinced that he
expects us to do the same.
But Jesus did not just welcome them ---
Jesus took
care of their needs
I love how The Message interprets these verses
This is a large work I’ve called
you into, but don’t be overwhelmed by it. It’s best to start small. Give a cool
cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of
giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice.
Many of you have asked --- how do I help during this time
of great upheaval in our society --- You want to work for racial justice ---
you want to learn to become antiracist
I think
Jesus gives us the answer
start . . . start small . . . but just
start
I went back and found my most read sermon on my blog ---
it was preached just last year --- on the Sunday following the special General
Conference of the UMC
If you missed that Sunday --- go back last March 3,
2019 and listen to or read my sermon
titled: Grace Upon Grace
It may be
the most important sermon I ever delivered
Jesus calls us to welcome --- but the only way we can
welcome one another is by being transparent --- by acknowledging our prejudices
and biases and to seek to undo them.
It has been over a month since George Floyd was murdered
--- It has been over 400 years since we first brought African slaves to our
country.
Have you noticed who is leading this movement for
change? Is it the church?
No we are
not leading it.
It is the young people --- the people who have left our
church --- while we find ways to justify what happened to George Floyd and so
many others.
Listen carefully to these words that Rachel wrote in an
op-ed in the Washington Post in 2015:
I left church at age 29, full of
doubt and disillusionment, I wasn’t looking for a better-produced Christianity.
I was looking for a truer Christianity,
a more authentic Christianity: I didn’t like how gay, lesbian, bisexual and
transgender people were being treated by my evangelical faith community. I had
questions about science and faith, biblical interpretation and theology. I felt
lonely in my doubts.
She goes on:
According to Barna Group, among
young people who don’t go to church, 87 percent say they see Christians as
judgmental, and 85 percent see them as hypocritical.
{Have you ever
asked your children why they stopped coming to church?}
A similar study found that “only
8% say they don’t attend because church is ‘out of date,’ undercutting the
notion that all churches need to do for Millennials is to make worship
‘cooler.’ ”
In other words, a church can
have a sleek logo and Web site, but if it’s judgmental and exclusive, if it
fails to show the love of Jesus to all, millennials will sniff it out. Our
reasons for leaving have less to do with style and image and more to do with
substantive questions about life, faith and community. We’re not as shallow as
you might think.
. . . young people are looking
for congregations that authentically practice the teachings of Jesus in an open
and inclusive way . . .
You can get a cup of coffee with
your friends anywhere, but church is the only place you can get ashes smudged
on your forehead as a reminder of your mortality.
You can be dazzled by a light
show at a concert on any given weekend, but church is the only place that fills
a sanctuary with candlelight and hymns on Christmas Eve.
You can snag all sorts of free
swag for brand loyalty online, but church is the only place where you are named
a beloved child of God with a cold plunge into the water.
You can share food with the
hungry at any homeless shelter, but only the church teaches that a shared meal
brings us into the very presence of God.
Remember what Jesus said when we asked him: (Matthew 25)
‘Lord, when did we see you
hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink? When did we see you as a
stranger and welcome you, or naked and give you clothes to wear? When did we
see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
‘I assure you that when you have
done it for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you have
done it for me.’
In "Searching For Sunday", Rachel wrote:
We Christian don’t get to send
our lives through the rinse cycle before showing up to church. We come as we
are–no hiding, no acting, no fear.
We come with our materialism,
our pride, our petty grievances against our neighbors, our hypocritical disdain
for those judgmental people in the church next door.
We come with our fear of death,
our desperation to be loved, our troubled marriages, our persistent doubts, our
preoccupation with status and image.
We come with our addictions–to
substances, to work, to affirmation, to control, to food.
We come with our differences, be
they political, theological, racial, or socioeconomic. We come in search of
sanctuary, a safe place to shed the masks and exhale.
We come to air our dirty laundry
before God and everybody because when we do it together we don’t have to be
afraid.
WOW --- that's the kind of church that I long for!
Not a church that looks the other way on sin --- but also
not a church that is fixated on it.
Because the truth is --- transformation only takes place
when we stop making our faith all about us --- all about me and my personal
relationship with God.
Transformation takes place when we shift our attention
from ourselves, from sin, and we begin to focus on the least, the lost, and the
last of God's children --- not because of pity --- but because they truly are
our sisters and brothers.
In April of 2019, Rachel Held Evans was hospitalized what
she described as "a flu + UTI combo and a severe allergic reaction to the
antibiotics they gave me."
Eventually she was placed in a medically induced coma
after her brain began suffering constant seizures, trying to bid time and
figure out how to treat her.
On May 4 2019, Rachel Held Evans died, leaving behind a
husband and two small children.
Theologian Peter Enns wrote about Rachel
Rachel would wind up meaning so
much to so many, and if I had to name the reason why, it would be this: the way
that Rachel spoke of God.
The God she was pursuing . . .
is the God of liberating hope, uncompromising justice for all, and compassion
for us in our struggles and doubts.
Rachel’s God. That is the heart
of her legacy—in her books, her blogging, her speaking, her advocacy for the
marginalized, and just being a plain old decent human.
Rachel had a following because
she reminded us of the God worth following.
In her last tweet, she shared her grief and frustration
at the United Methodist General conference.
"It strikes me today that
the liturgy of Ash Wednesday teaches something that nearly everyone can agree
on," she wrote. " 'Remember that you are dust and to dust you will
return.' Death is a part of life. My prayer for you this season is that you
make time to celebrate that reality, and to grieve that reality, and that you
will know you are not alone."
Who are you welcoming?
It is not
our words that matter --- although words do matter
What
matters most --- is the Jesus we demonstrate in our lives.
Let us live God's story of welcome and love
BENEDICTION
Nadia Bolz-Weber used these words from Rachel Held Evans
as the benediction at Rachel's funeral.
May they speak to us as well:
"Jesus invites us into a
story bigger than ourselves and our imaginations … may we never lose our love
for telling the story."
