Draw Near

I have been the Good Samaritan, Sam actually. When I was in junior high school, our church youth choir put on a musical about the Good Samaritan entitled “Sam.” And I knew there was only one part for me, I HAD to be Sam. Especially because it was the title role and there was a solo and then I would get my name in the newspaper article and my friends would come to see me and it would be great! Well, when I got the part, I of course needed the right outfit and since we were going for a modern urban look, I went out a got a really great hoodie the first time they were in in the ‘70s. And I made sure my makeup was just right so when I walked out on that stage I would look good. And I would appear caring and then sing my solo in the spotlight. And I WAS good. And thinking how great it was to look good singing about doing good. I thought a lot about that word “Good.” I didn’t think at all about that word “Samaritan.” Or what that meant. And I suspect most of us don’t either. I mean, we don’t have any Samaritans walking down the street here, has anyone seen a Samaritan lately? But by not remembering that word in Jesus’ story we miss out on the depth of the story.

There are lots of ways people interpret this parable. Parables are the stories Jesus uses to demonstrate some greater truth. And many people focus on that word “good” in the Parable of “The Good Samaritan.” But the main thing Jesus is telling us this day is not “do good.” He’s not. The Bible does tell us to do good and to share good- that is very Scriptural and good, but Jesus is not telling the man who asks the question to just do a little good.

Because the story is told in response to a man who thinks he IS good, who knows all the rules. He asks Jesus what God really expects- what do I really have to do. Jesus responds by asking him what Scripture says- and he knows it- Love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength and your neighbor as yourself. It practically rolls off his tongue. Echoing those words God gives in Deuteronomy to the people that will lead to long life for the people and their ancestors. And apparently the man does not have a question about loving God. His question is about that neighbor part. Who is my neighbor? Loving a God we cannot see might seem easy.

Loving people right in front of us that we can see is something else.

What do I have to do? Who do I really have to love? What will it take? Mind, soul, heart and strength means “all in.” There has to be a limit. This is when Jesus tells the parable. That story of a road that is known to be dangerous, and people known to be sketchy, and the poor so desperate they will rob to survive, and enemies we cannot imagine we have to see, much less think they have anything to give us that we would want. It’s not a pretty picture- but it’s the way that leads to the man in the ditch, and people acting like that’s just the way it is. We want to hear- do a little good , show a little mercy and it’s OK.

Not so. In the larger narrative of the gospel of Luke we keep hearing that the kingdom of God has drawn near. Draw near.

And Jesus challenges all those limits- in that word Samaritan. Drawing near includes enemies. In some parts of the world and in our country, it may be easy to identify large groups of people who would fit our modern day “Samaritan” but I suspect for us here in Reading this day, I could probably ask each of you who that is and get a variety of answers. But we all have a person or group of people who we cannot trust, or don’t understand, those we cannot forgive. Jesus stands all that on its head and says your view of “neighbor” and your heart must be moved. How we see the poor, the unclean, the desperate, the dangerous, the enemy must be moved. This includes how we respond to them and how we see God in them- we have much to learn. And here in our own neighbor-hood the truth is we are not seeing everyone. And we miss out when we don’t see and embrace others truly.

Even our own mission statement, well intentioned, misses the mark. How many of you know it? For those who don’t the key part I want us to hear is that we say we “meet our neighbors at their greatest point of need.” But then what? Are we doing good, showing a little mercy, but then parting still strangers? Are we changed by God in this? And what about our greatest point of need? Do we imagine our neighbors meet us there and have things to offer to us, other places where we will both encounter God?

I have another Good Samaritan story. A man went to a city to do business, and while he was there he was ambushed, beaten, robbed and thrown from a moving car onto a sidewalk and left for dead. Dumped on a bust street, still in his business clothes, though they were now bloodied and tattered because the way we rob someone is to slit all their pockets. But on a street where it is not uncommon to see people in a heap on the sidewalk, he could just be another drunk, or a bum. There he is, a victim of people desperate enough to rob to survive. And other people dressed like him, walk on by as he lays there half dead. But an itinerant street vendor, sees him and crosses over to where he is. The street vendor may or may not have been an immigrant, who may or may not be illegal, he may or may not have been serving questionable food, making money under the table. He may or may not have warrants out for his arrest, and he may or may not have even been religious, much less Christian.  And he had many things to risk. He left his cart- which meant he was missing all those lunch sales that feed him and a family. And his cart could have been robbed. And it could turn out that when the police come they say- this guy is a drunk, but we have your name on a list. Or the people that robbed the man, might have seen the street vendor start to help and come back for him.  And he had no reason to get involved, much less help the man, call authorities and convince them to help.

But changed lives. Because the man laying there half dead was my father. Who is alive today because of that street vendor. And my greatest sadness is that we never learned his name and we could never thank him. Because in the world of important law abiding people, he was too insignificant to be remembered. It’s like he was unseen. Yet it was THIS man who went beyond all the limits to show compassion. And my father is alive because of it. When we keep those we assume have nothing to offer at a distance, we miss out on the life and love God intends for all of us. The story of the Unknown Street Vendor changed my life view.  He lived out love your neighbor as yourself.

When we allow ourselves to be taught anew and open our eyes to the world, Christ teaches us real love and reminds of our real story. We are all helpless, in need in some way, and unable to save ourselves. But we are all given life and a future in Christ, and a place in the kingdom drawn near.

But that life will always feel incomplete when we don’t see our neighbors as we see ourselves, when we don’t draw near. “They” are “us” and we are ALL the ones God saves, and loves, and uses to give and to receive. And this is the neighborhood here- where people we feed share to feed others, where juvenile sex offenders crochet caps for babies in a NICU, where addicts watch this church and where everyday random people tell me they pray for us even though we do not see them here today. It is nothing short of life giving and miraculous and happening in places we’re not looking.

God is calling us to open our eyes to see God at work, and to share compassion and love with all our neighbors in the kingdom. Draw near.

 

May Our Hearts Stand Up!

This past Sunday during our children's message, I took a page from the excellent site- "Worshipping with Children" and we talked about the word "compassion." "Com" meaning "with" and "passion." Which got a couple snickers from the adults so I could chide them about not THAT. Our working definition was "caring a lot." The kids and I talked about who we cared a lot about and named people. And then we talked about how Jesus saw a woman whose son had died and he had compassion. He cared a lot about her but she was a stranger. God wants to us to care a lot not only for people who we know and like but everyone who need to know God's love. Then we used our candy basket to show "compassion" with Tootsie Pops. Because when someone cares for you it makes you smile, it is sweet. Knowing that the kids did not know all the grownups - they were strangers, we could praise them showing caring here and to receive caring in return. It is so easy to show caring when it is something like candy. But there is more to compassion than just that. Here is where the sermon went:

 

Years ago, a man was on his way to work, driving on the highway when he came upon an accident that had just happened. Cars had scattered and he saw a car with a woman sitting in it, and she was unable to get out.  Her car was smoking and sparking, and catching fire. No one else had stopped, but he did and without thinking about it, he jumped out of his car, and raced to hers, pried the door open and pulled her out of it just before the whole thing went up in flames. He saved a total stranger. When he got home later, and his wife found out what happened, especially as she noticed his banged up hand, she was astounded, articulating what perhaps many of us might-“What were you thinking?! You could have been killed! What about OUR family? Did you think about that?” Well, no, that’s just it, he hadn’t really thought- he had seen something he could not ignore, a matter of life and death and he just responded with a gut reaction. Sometimes compassion looks like that.  

Or there is a phrase from a book about a young girl in a small village in Africa who was moved when she learned about starving people in New York City in the Great Depression. She said, “My Heart Will Not Sit Down.”  The girl lived in a small village in Cameroon in western Africa and when she learned about people even poorer than herself, she kept asking the grownups about it. And I can imagine that as she pestered over and over, they probably told her to leave them alone and “go sit down.” One of the things we say when we don’t want to deal with something. But she kept asking because her heart would not sit down. And eventually she led the people to gather the small amount of money they had- that they could be keeping for their own families, and sent it to help others live. And they did so saying- OUR HEARTS STAND UP FOR THESE PEOPLE. When we heard, our hearts could not sit down. Our hearts stood up.

This is what compassion looks like- in ways both heroic and small but faithful. Ways when we see our hearts cannot sit down, we respond. Whether you describe it as a gut reaction, or that feeling deep inside, or a heart that cannot sit down- it’s those moments when you cannot help but respond. When the very stuff of life is on the line.

This is what we hear today with the widows. First we meet the widow with Elijah. And there is a back story that we don’t hear today. God has called Elijah as a prophet and tells him to go find this widow and of all people she will feed and care for him. So he goes and finds the widow and says- make me something to eat. Pretty bold. She responds by basically saying, “Are you kidding? I am gathering sticks to make a fire for one last meal for my son and I with the last flour and oil I have and then we know we will die of starvation. Elijah convinces her to do what he says and when she does they manage to live each day with enough- it never runs out! But then one day her son dies. And Elijah, shakes his fist at the sky crying out “REALLY, GOD?!” But then is empowered to act. Sometimes compassion is like that for us too. We can shake our fist and wonder why, but then be empowered by God to respond.

And then we hear of Jesus and the widow today in the gospel. Imagine it-he’s on the highway headed into town and so are a lot of others when they encounter this widow. Perhaps a lot of others would have kept walking. After all, seeing a widow or even a burial procession were not unique, almost as commonplace as a car pulled off on the side of the road today. But there she is and she is trapped. People are all around her, and the mourners are wailing as her son’s body is slowly carried. And unlike today there was no beautiful urn or elaborate casket to make it all look good- it is just a lifeless body on a stretcher. And even though she is surrounded by all this activity, she is alone and life is on the line. Because without a husband and a son, a woman alone will have no money, or ability to earn it, no home, no clothes and no food. She is a woman waiting to die.

Jesus knows. After the burial, the crowd will turn and head back into the city, and from here on she will be alone and trapped by this accident of death. Left only to hope that someone might see her and surround her with care. But this is all we know. Don’t you ever wish we knew more about people like her in the Bible?

We don’t know how long she was widowed, or what her husband did. Or how he died. Whether he was a good man, or a drunk, or a criminal. We don’t know if her son was a good boy who knew when to go sit down or whether he was one of the ones who always found trouble. We don’t know if she was a good mother, or whether the family was likeable, or irritating. We don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if it is easier to have compassion for total strangers, because when we know the details we are more or less likely to have compassion.

The past of the widow is a mystery, but we know the future for her without Jesus. Jesus knew exactly who she was, really. The fact WE don’t suggests it is not important. Which is good news for her and for us. What is important is that God in Jesus has a heart that will not sit down. Jesus was moved and called to the boy to stand up. Because God has come to help God’s people. All of them. This is the message embodied in Jesus. That God’s continual call in Scripture to care for the sick, the dying, the widow, the orphan, the poor, the hungry, and those in prison takes on flesh. Compassion takes on flesh to redeem and rescue the lives of sinners and enemies and show that no one is a stranger to God. As God continues to reach out to those who have no one following them, or surrounding them.

This is compassion embodied in Jesus for us, and this is our work as God’s people- to listen to God calling us in our hearts and to stand up and meet those around us, no matter who they are-to be compassion in the flesh. To see others, to listen, to stand up with them and to care for them with God’s heart. Whether they are halfway around the world or right here in Centre Park.

We do this in many ways- one way takes a page out of the story from Africa. In our Change for Change Sundays we have we have provided over a thousand dollars to various ministries beyond our doors in the last year. And I look and see many of you here and know you volunteer in all kinds of places and give thanks for your compassion.

But another way we care for total strangers in the Pastor’s Benevolence Fund where people who find they have no home, or food, or way to hang on, get help and direction to the right places. Last week I shared that I was down to $100. Thanks be to God there is now $300. I would like to triple that amount. If we really intend to be compassion with flesh, it will take more. I am asking you to stand up and respond. And in all these ways I pray that together we will continue give thanks for God’s compassion, hear God’s calling in our sisters and brothers in our hearts,  and stand up!

AMEN

Post script- our tiny flock responded and we now have 5x what we started with that day! Even the visiting organist gave! Thank you, Jesus!

 

 

Ref-lectionary musings- Shepherding

In Jeremiah 23:1, 2, 4, we hear about the deficiencies of earthly shepherds. “Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture!” says the LORD. “It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing,” says the LORD. “Shepherd” is a word with more than one meaning.
Shepherds are responsible for protecting and providing sustenance for their flocks, keeping peace within the flock, defending against attackers, searching for sheep that have gone astray, and rescuing those who are in danger. The shepherd, and by analogy the king, is expected to act for the well-being of the sheep. Though we can think about actual shepherds who tend livestock, more importantly, what does this mean for those of us who serve in shepherding roles in the Church? What is the sustenance we should be offering? What would the good shepherd look like in our humanity? Attentive to justice, protection, mercy, and righteousness, for sure, but I think there is more. I think it is about more than just physical sustenance and care, but about providing direction.
In Psalm 23: 2, 3, 4, we hear of the Lord as shepherd:
He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;
He restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me.

As I focused upon the teaching aspects of shepherding, I was drawn not only to the “leading” and “directing” but to seeing that it is because of this leading and teaching that the psalmist can sense that the Lord, not a physical person, is present. This presence sensed in one’s internal being, that whole sense of life, not just the physical, that is contemplated by the Hebrew word, nefesh. By being able to rely upon this teaching felt as presence within, the psalmist can overcome fears and can sense that caring and providing. The rod and staff that at times prods us forward, and at times draws us back to where we can have life.
So when I then contemplate Mark 6:54-56, and Jesus as shepherd, the imagery again is about more than physical care. “As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.” Jesus has compassion- one of my favorite words in Greek, splagchnizomai. It can mean sympathy, mercy, and loving concern, but my favorite part about it is that it is deep inner core emotion, the same visceral gut emotion of the father for the lost son in the story of the Prodigal. In the depth of this sense of caring, it seems to be more than tending to people who are sick and need a physical cure because the compassion is connected to the first then we are told Jesus does, to care for the inner being, and a sense of being “with” that person. "They were like sheep without a shepherd." There are lots of modern metaphors for being lost, but I tend to think of the concept of being at wit’s end.” Feeling totally dependent and totally abandoned- that no one is with us. That feeling that no amount of Band-aids, hugs or things done “to” people can erase. That deep “in our gut” feeling. Maybe Jesus is matching our feelings, gut to gut. What does Jesus do? "…he began to teach them many things" (Mark 6:34). Deep down we need more than a quick fix, we need a roadmap. In The Wounded Storyteller, one person whose world has been turned upside down by chronic illness talks about a sense that the roadmap he had been using in life suddenly becoming worthless, and that sense of existential despair; of having no way to navigate the journey. POW’s who have survived imprisonment are often found to have survived emotionally by recalling Scripture, liturgy, and hymns as a way of sustenance. Persons with dementia continue to find comfort in the same. I remember one older gentleman whose sense of reality was robbed by dementia. In many ways much of his day was spent in some world only his mind saw, and he was often agitated. But when he was brought communion, he would suddenly spring into the words of the liturgy as he had his whole life. And for the length of that time, and whenever we would recite his favorite Scripture, he was not that lost sheep. So it would seem to make sense that the Gospel would be critical to giving that sense of direction in which one finds the presence of God, and the caring of God that allows one to rise above fear- the Lord as shepherd in what has been taught and internalized. When I think about the compassion Jesus felt which led him to teach, it made me ponder- that teaching is what we keep in our hearts and minds. Which is worse, facing some physical concern, or facing that sense of being lost with no one to turn to and no roadmap for the journey? My experiences in chaplaincy tell me it is the latter- our hearts and minds can be awfully empty places without the word/Word to cling to. I have to agree with Mark Vitalis Hoffman who encourages understanding “education as an expression of compassionate evangelism. Yes, there are all sorts of ways we can express compassion by attending to the pressing physical needs people have, but it is just as important for us to be educating them by clearly and faithfully speaking the Gospel.” I can’t say it any better than that.

Mini Sermon on Luke 15:11-32

As a part of our homiletical theory class, we need to deliver a 3 minute mini sermon. Comments are invited:

But now, he’s broke; credit cards are max-ed out; he’s been evicted; no wants to hire him with his criminal record; all of his “friends” have moved on; he’s HIV-positive. He dives in dumpsters for food and catches a day labor job when he can.
“Maybe my old man will put me up for awhile-I’ll see what I can get out of the family.”
This is what he thinks as he starts hitching home.
“I’ll tell him I’m sorry”
But somewhere along the way, he really believes it. Home is the one place they will still love me- even now. “Forgive me!”
His Dad gets a call from the neighbor who swears he saw the kid hitching on the Turnpike at the last interchange. And the father jumps in his car and takes off to find him. Even now- even after the son stole the family’s Social Security numbers and ran up debt.
For one simple reason he goes- compassion. Not just love, or pity. Not mere sympathy or even yearning, but deep down, melt your heart , raw emotion in your gut, in your very being- compassion. The father loses himself to compassion for this flesh of his flesh- “This is my son!”
Compassion fuels the process of restoration. The son is embraced again, not after a period of reintroduction, restitution and passing litmus tests; not after ritual purification and works of righteousness , but NOW.
The Greek word for compassion is used six times in the New Testament, each in a similar way. Compassion and healing of wounds; compassion and caring for the distressed; compassion and raising the dead.
And this son was by all rights “ dead” because of the separation. He was lost, ruined and without life. Jesus will go on in Luke Chapter 19 to state that the Son of Man has come to reclaim just such people. Not by teaching in the temple to the worthy, but by seeking out the lost, and sharing among them and living in their midst.
What of the “lost” in our world? Often they are those who have made really bad decisions; those who are hard to love or even scary to be around. But, coming back to our text, I wonder if there is a reason the parable stops short of wrapping up the story of the older brother. The one who has remained faithful in the family; who is angered by the lavish party.
It can be easy to feel like him. “Why should my money support the welfare mom who just keeps having kids?” “Why do I care about the immigrant, or any of these others?” “What is there to love about these?” “They’ve made their bed – they can lie in it!” “Let them follow the rules like I do!”
Hear again the Father: “Rejoice with me! Your brother was lost and now is found! Come to the celebration- be a part of the restoration!”
We don’t know if the older brother joins the party or not. What we do know is that God loved us and had compassion for us to the extent that the Son was sent to run out and meet us. Even though all of the “older brothers” grumbled at the ridiculousness of it all. God lost all sense and sought us out anyway. Later in the New Testament, the disciples are commissioned to carry on this ministry- seeking out the lost and proclaiming the message of grace, mercy and forgiveness. And God is seeking still.
SO who are we? Lost ones found? For sure
Angry older brothers and sisters? Let’s hope not. For just as we are beloved children of God, so are all of our lost brother and sisters. We need to ask- what kind of family does God call us to be?
AMEN