Monday, September 7, 2020

Life's Heart

 Sermon for Grace and St Stephen’s 9/6/20 Matthew 18:15-20, Romans 13:8-14

          It’s September in Colorado which means the days will either bring snow to the mountains or 90 degrees to our back yards.  The aspens will start turning yellow, the sunsets are starting earlier and the kids are back to school … sort of.  Some kids are being home schooled, some kids are doing online school and some kids are going to school carefully spaced 6 feet from the other children and with little cloth masks over their runny noses and chatty mouths.  Many of us are now 2 weeks into this new creature called pandemic schooling and while I could share stories of technology glitches, websites not working and kids not understanding how to do school while sitting next to all their toys …. What has really struck me about this whole process is the mutual dependency and accountability created between parents, students and teachers.

 

          Three days in to online first grade I got an email from my son’s teacher.  She said “be brutally honest, how is this on your end, please tell me what you think.”  I was surprised and touched by this for a few reasons.  First, she wants to do a good job, she wants to do the best she can and really teach the children.  Second, she genuinely cares about the experiences of the parents.  And third, that is a super brave email.  Who does that?  In a world of “don’t @ me” and unfollowing and screaming and shouting … it is surprising and refreshing to find people opening dialogue and wanting to learn from one another.

 

          I responded with honesty but also taking seriously my accountability in the situation.  We are in this together.  I need to do my part to have patience, a positive attitude and to constantly say to my child over and over again “this is school, she is talking, go listen until she is done.”  And my kids are accountable in the situation too.  This is a unique opportunity for them to learn at a young age how to take responsibility for your own education.  They need to pay attention to instructions, know when to log in and navigate the various websites for learning.  And we all need to be mindful of when to mute and unmute ourselves.

 

          I thought about this schooling situation and the mutual accountability it calls for as I read the Gospel reading from Matthew today because it really is about accountability.  It is not saying “if someone makes you mad, take it to the parking lot and have it out.”  It is not saying “if someone offends you, never speak to them again.”  It is also not suggesting that as part of every Sunday worship service we hold an open mic “airing of grievances” and lay into one another. 

 

          Rather, it is a system of being accountable in love- a way to bind together this body of Christ in the world.  An admission that we will hurt each other sometimes and a call for all of us to be accountable to one another so that we can grow together in love- so that we can be for the world a beautiful family in Christ. 

 

          Notice in these instructions from Matthew that after you go to the person who has “sinned against you” directly and after you involve some other members of the church and after you involve the church … if the “offender” still “refuses to listen” then you are to treat them as a “Gentile and a tax collector.”  At first glance this might seem like an invitation to write that person off as someone different from you, someone outside of your circle, someone on whom it is generally acceptable to despise and look down.  But … this is the Gospel, the stuff about Jesus and how does Jesus treat the Gentile and tax collector?  Anyone who knows the Zacchaeus song knows Jesus didn’t write them off or toss them aside as unworthy and hated.  He broke bread with them.  In fact, the very next passage is about the importance of forgiveness and Jesus’ instruction to forgive not seven times but seventy times seven times.  

 

          This holding together the community stuff isn’t easy.  I remember reading in a book in seminary that it is hardest to be a pastor during a presidential election year.[1]  And that was before COVID, before Twitter and before shared Facebook memes.  This holding together the community stuff is about love, grace and forgiveness but also accountability.  Recognizing we all have a part to play in this difficult thing we are doing called “thy will be done on earth as in heaven” -  this beautiful thing we are doing called building the Kingdom of God.  

 

          Accountability means holding each other in love, not letting each other give up, loving through the darkness and despair, holding a vision of hope up for the hopeless to see, learning together, growing together, being open to one another, remembering that we are not alone. 

 

          The passage from Romans simplifies our Christian calling to “love your neighbor as yourself.”  It says “Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.”  It almost sounds as simple as “all you need is love?”  … except that anyone who has loved anyone knows love isn’t always so simple.

 

          In his popular work “The Prophet” Lebanese poet Kahlil Gibran writes these words about love and its depths:

          When love beckons to you, follow him,

            Though his ways are hard and steep.

            And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

            Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

            And when he speaks to you believe in him,

            Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.  Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.  Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. 

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.  He threshes you to make you naked.  He sifts you to free you from your husks.  He grinds you to whiteness.  He kneads you until you are pliant; And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

            All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.”[2]

 

Love is not always so simple or easy.  It opens your heart to immeasurable joy and elation but also pain and disappointment.  Bravely risking love means opening oneself to growth, change and accountability.  It means being held in something greater than oneself and holding oneself to that. 

 

          Friends, we are being shaped, pruned, molded.  It is love that makes my heart hurt when I hear stories of friends mourning the loss of those dear to them to this pandemic.  It is love that makes my heart hurt when the reality of racism and injustice is laid bare for all to see.  It is love that made the tears trickle from my eyes as a beloved child was baptized into the Christian faith last Sunday, our witness of hope and faith in the future.  It is love that makes me ache for visits, hugs and in person community as we used to know it.  It is love that draws forth an apology from my lips when I have let frustration turn into impatience and harsh words for those who are enclosed in the same square footage as me during these days of work from home, school from home … safer at home.  It is love that mixes together immense gratitude and grief in the same heartbeat.  It is love that we will see when we look back at all the strange things we did like online school and worship in chalk drawn lawn circles, all the new and difficult things we did to get through this together.  It is love that will carry us through as this beautiful body of Christ doing this important work of kingdom building. 



[1] Galloway, John.  Ministry Loves Company: A Survival Guide for Pastors. WJK Books, 2003

[2] Gibran, Kahlil.  The Prophet. Knopf, 2001.  Pp 11-12