August 28, 2016: May God’s words alone be spoken, may God’s words alone be heard. Amen.
The words of our gradual hymn, that music we sing before and after the gospel, say “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and its righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” That’s the first verse, and is from a passage in the gospel of Matthew. I kept going back to this first verse when working on this sermon, even though this is Year C and we are reading from the gospel of Luke. And, I think it’s because it is essentially the message we are getting from both the gospel and the epistle this morning. To seek the Kingdom of God.
In the gospel, Jesus is heading over with a Pharisee on the Sabbath to have dinner at his house. Once there, he sees everyone jockeying for positions of honor at the table, and he says to them that when invited to a big shindig, don’t sit at the best seat, but at the worst. He then continues to tell them that they also need to invite people for dinner who can do nothing for them, other than enjoy the hospitality being provided. Now, to be clear, Jesus is not trying to be the Miss Manners of the 1st century. What he is saying is another of his upturning of social norms. Society just did not operate like that – everyone understood that status was exhibited openly – in the places you lived, the clothes you wore, the people who would dine with you, the people you noticed. Sound familiar? Not much has changed, has it?
Now, before we go on about the gospel, let’s look at the epistle to the Hebrews. Right in the beginning of this part of the letter, the author writes something most everyone has heard before, and it is a beautiful thing, “Let mutual love continue.” I love that – “Let mutual love continue.” And then the letter implores, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” Or unawares, as many of us remember it.
These two passages, the gospel and the epistle, have a common core, but if we just look at what our lectionary gives us, we might miss the best part. Remember that I have said before to pay attention when verses are missing? Did you notice that our assigned reading for today is from the 14th chapter of Luke, verse 1, and then verses 7-14. What happened to verses 2-6 you might ask? Well, I’ll tell you, because it beats me why it was left out in the first place, especially since they really speak to the very heart of what Jesus and the author of Hebrews was getting at.
Now, first of all, let’s remember the first verse, which reads “On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.” Did you notice that? “they were watching him closely.” What is up with that? Well, verses 2-6, which our lectionary skipped over, say that Jesus saw a man with dropsy (essentially what we now call edema – when the body swells with fluids), and he stopped to heal him. He saw, he stopped, he served.
See, Jesus was a busy guy, you know? I mean, on his feet traveling all day. It was finally the Sabbath, and he was surely heading toward a delightful meal – not grabbing what he could on the road, like he might usually do – but in a great house, with better food than he likely had seen in a long while. But remember that bit about “they were watching him closely.” Hmmm…THAT must get old pretty quick. I suspect they knew this man with dropsy, and knew he’d make an appearance on that road. The question is, would Jesus see him? Would Jesus be the same when there were no big temple crowds, as when it was just him and a few folks going to house for dinner? I mean, this guy with dropsy could offer nothing to him, not even a stunned crowd at the cure he might give. But Jesus did notice.
All throughout the gospel of Luke, Jesus is telling us that the Kingdom of God is not some hoped for external future ideal, it isn’t about thrones and crowns of glory either. The Kingdom of God is here and now – right in front of us. We just have to live it out with humility, love, generosity, and kindness. The Kingdom of God isn’t a place, but a relationship – not only with those we know, most especially not with those who can pay us back, but to those whom he called to his side, those he always seemed to notice when others didn’t – the poor, the lost, the lonely, the forgotten, the marginalized and oppressed. Not because seeing them, or being humble and generous will make us feel good, or get us brownie points in heaven. But, because they are us, and we are them.
Humility and service, the kind Jesus and the author of Hebrews was getting at, isn’t about self-deprecation or “lowering” oneself to some other perceived level in an act of self-serving piety. It is about being in relationship with equals – because all of us are equally children of God. Nicholai Velimirovic, the Serbian Orthodox Bishop and theologian once said, “Be humble, for the worst thing in the world is of the same stuff as you; be confident, for the stars are of the same stuff as you.”
So how do we start to live the Kingdom of God here and now? How do we exhibit the kind of hospitality needed to be in right relationship with ourselves, everyone we meet, with our God? It doesn’t take grand gestures, or loads of resources, or high status. It can sometimes take just whatever we happen to have in our pockets.
I am reminded of a story that appeared in the book Chicken Soup for the Soul: Living the Catholic Faith. “In the late 1990’s, a woman from the Midwest won an all-expenses paid trip for two to the Big Apple from her employer. She took the trip with her teenage daughter. Here is what happened their first day in Manhattan.
They were heading out to do some shopping and sightseeing. Amanda, the daughter, was particularly moved by all the homeless people who seemed to be everywhere. She kept reaching into her jeans for change to give. When she didn’t have anything else, she asked her mom, who gave her dollars out of her pockets until she had none left to give. These are the mother’s own words “I reluctantly handed her my last single and scolded, “That’s it. You’re done. No more. My pockets are empty.”
Then they we passed a cardboard shelter with a sign that read, “Homeless and have AIDS”. A hooded figure sat motionless in the box with a blanket draped from his head down his shoulders. He never looked up. As we walked past him toward the traffic light, Amanda began to cry. I reminded her that I was out of cash and shoved my hands in my pockets in frustration. I felt the crunch of paper in my right pocket. As we waited for the world’s longest light to change, I pulled out a five-dollar bill. Five dollars! No way! I looked at the money and then at my daughter’s tears. “Aw, geez, here.” She beamed as she grabbed the money from my hand and started to disappear back into the crowd.
I hollered, “Wait!” terrified that she’d vanish into the thin, cold air that was now cutting through my very soul. I turned and ran toward her and the figure in the box. I watched to my amazement as he lifted his head to her in a gesture of thanks as she set the money in the box by his side. His face, almost illuminated, had nearly transparent skin and he had the [most incredibly beautiful eyes. I could not really tell much else about him]. I was just mesmerized by those eyes. He seemed to look right through me and the chill that I’d felt seconds earlier evaporated from the warmth of his expression. I felt as though I was in the presence of someone not of this world. As I wondered how I would ever explain this to anyone, a crazy thought ran through my mind. “I found Jesus… and he’s in a cardboard box on a street in Manhattan.”
I took hold of Amanda’s hand and we turned to make our way back to the corner. We walked across the street and looked back once again toward the stranger. There was no one there. No box. No sign. No silent figure. Amanda and I just looked at each other. Neither of us spoke for several blocks. Finally, we said in unison, “Did you see Him?” Soon we found ourselves climbing the steps of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. “Let’s go light candles, Momma,” Amanda said. “It’s Good Friday.” So it was, and so we did.”[1]
The thing is…all the others that Amanda gave to that day…they were no less an angel, no less Christ, than the one that they finally saw – really saw. Why did they not see it in the others? Maybe they just were not ready to, or maybe they just didn’t look closely enough. We will never know. But eventually, they did see Him – because they, like Jesus, stopped and took notice.
“Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” “…when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you…”
Folks, if we are really seeking first the Kingdom of God, we haven’t far to look, we only need see those Jesus would see, the ones others pass by. So, we can’t look at people or things as being a way toward something, but see the Jesus in them, and we can’t be concerned with anything other than how we each are in relationship with God by being in relationship with others, especially those who cannot offer anything back – the poor, the lonely, the marginalized. To do that – to see the stranger (who might be an angel) or the poor – we have to stop what we are doing from time to time. We have to look to the sides, and even behind, rather than just focus only on where we want to go. Jesus did – and saw the man who needed the healing touch of God’s grace.
Unfortunately, the church, and Christians, are not really always known for this life of humble service. Yes, there are many who do live this way, and it is Christian charities that are often the leaders in providing aide all around the world. But sometimes folks only know we are Christian because we come to church on Sunday (if they even know that). Folks, this is never a one and done thing, and you know if you have been here long enough that coming to church is not the only thing that makes us a follower of Christ. This life we are called to – this living into the Kingdom of God, is a life-long act of service – it is an every day, every hour, every minute existence. It is something done in the open, and also when no one will see or know.
We might think – how do I do this? How do I start?
It all begins with humility. All of it. Because when we are humble, truly humble, there is no “other,” there is only my sister or brother. There is no service unworthy of our time, only a need that must be met. And most of all, there are no favorites. We don’t pick and choose who we will serve. We just do it – and keep doing it – over and over until it becomes a part of us – until we can look past the human instilled boundaries of rich or poor, black or white, female or male, gay or straight, Muslim or Jew. And in this time of political turmoil – Republican or Democrat. God created all of us – and loves all of us equally, and so we must serve all equally.
I’ll leave you with this story that I think needs to be heard in this time of election mudslinging. Most of you know I grew up in the DC area, and even worked for lobbying organizations, and as a contractor to a federal government agency. This is a story that made the radio news back in the 70s.
“It had been a long day on Capitol Hill for Senator John Stennis. He was looking forward to a bit of relaxation when he got home. After parking the car, he began to walk toward his front door. Then it happened. Two people came out of the darkness, robbed him, and shot him twice. News of the shooting of Senator Stennis, the chairman of the powerful Armed Forces Committee, shocked Washington and the nation. For nearly seven hours, Senator Stennis was on the operating table at Walter Reed Hospital. Less than two hours later, another politician was driving home when he heard about the shooting. He turned his car around and drove directly to the hospital.
In the hospital, he noticed that the staff was swamped and could not keep up with the incoming calls about the Senator’s condition. He spotted an unattended switchboard, sat down, and voluntarily went to work. He continued taking calls until daylight. Sometime during that next day, he stood up, stretched, put on his overcoat, and just before leaving, he introduced himself quietly to the other operator, “I’m Mark Hatfield. Happy to help out.” Then Senator Mark Hatfield unobtrusively walked out.”[2] The thing is… “Mark Hatfield was a liberal Republican…John Stennis was a conservative Democrat.”[3]
You see, all we need to really seek the Kingdom of God is to live humbly, “let mutual love continue,” to live in our hearts, and see everyone as the angel in our midst, and be that angel to others. It doesn’t take much – just some change in our pockets, or even answering the phone all night. But it does take turning around – our lives, our eyes, even our cars if necessary, to see, to do, and to invite the Christ in our midst into our hearts.
“…for by doing that ALL have entertained angels without knowing it.” Amen.
For the audio from the 10:30am service, click here:
[1]Adapted from Christ in a Stranger’s Guise from Chicken Soup for the Soul: Living the Catholic Faith by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen and LeAnn Thieman, pp. 43-46. Copyright 2008 by Chicken Soup for the Soul Publishing, Cos Cob, CT.
[2] Knofel Stanton, Heaven Bound Living, Standard, 1989, p. 35.
[3] http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1104168/posts
The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
August 28, 2016
Pentecost 15 – Year C
1st Reading – Jeremiah 2:4-13
Psalm 81:1, 10-16
2nd Reading – Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16
Gospel – Luke 14:1, 7-14
