Afraid to ask? Look to children, practice love

Mark 9:30-37

As you heard this story of disciples walking along with Jesus, remembering what they heard in the beginning of this scene—how Jesus was going to die and then rise—I wonder… what did you notice first? Well, I noticed they were full of questions but they were afraid to ask.

They were afraid. Because they were afraid, they didn't ask their questions. They didn’t talk about their fear, and then suddenly, it’s coming out sideways. I bet you’ve seen that before. I know I have… we’re upset about one thing so suddenly we’re arguing about something else. And in this case, the disciples are arguing about who’s the greatest.

Because they’re afraid, they’ve started thinking there’s only so much to go around… there are only one or two prime seats right beside Jesus and they’re fighting one another for the spot… because they’ve forgotten that with Jesus, there is abundance, more than enough to go around.

Fifty years ago, in 1968 in this congregation, there was a Centennial Celebration and in the booklet, Pastor Winnie Johnson wrote this note:

“In all honesty, we must confess our concern as to whether this congregation will be able to celebrate another centennial. However… we must not forget the promise and the purpose of our existence, Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. It is [Christ] who calls us into new ventures where we cannot see the end; to walk by faith into paths untrodden and perils unknown. It is Christ who has promise to guide and support us…”

How wonderful that Pastor Johnson had the opportunity to see Christ flourish again within his lifetime, continuing friendships with people of Christ until his death just a few years ago…

But also, we have to acknowledge that the scarcity story that Pastor Johnson names is a story that has been around this congregation again and again throughout the 50 years. We’ve wondered again and again, are we really going to end up with enough this year? Over the years, there have been many sermons (I’ve been told)… encouraging  the people of Christ that this story of “never quite having enough” doesn’t have to be our story.

Instead of holding on to our fears, worrying about our position, and arguing with one another on the way, Jesus invites the disciples to a way of life that turns all these stories upside down. Jesus looks to a child as the one who will model welcome of the living God. A child, overlooked and undervalued in that time and place (and sometimes in our times and places), will show us the way.

And so all week, my colleagues reflecting on the heart of this story have been noticing children leading the way—one mentioned the crossing guards that circle elementary schools all over the cities. They serve each day, they guide and protect both children and grown-ups.

Another image that comes to mind are our own children, receiving their Bibles… I’ll never forget Rory last year receiving his and taking it immediately over to the coloring table and digging right in.

Another favorite image I saw this week was in a short film from the Campaign to End Loneliness in the UK… I posted it on our Christ Facebook page, but for those who didn’t see it, it starts with a question. Have we forgotten how to make friends? Then continues, “To find out, we sent in the experts.” Several children are sent in to approach people who are sitting alone at café tables. They say “hi” and then ask them random, nosy questions, leading into this one, “Where are your friends?” One woman responds, “Well, I’m from Jamaica, so a lot of my friends are there…” A young man responds, “I’m new in London.” An older man says this, “Well I’ve had hundreds and thousands of friends. At the moment, I have a lot of Facebook friends…”

The kids say, “Well, maybe I could have coffee with you.” “Do you like coffee?” “Yeah.” “Do you? What’s your favorite kind of coffee?” “Hot chocolate.”
“I think everyone should be friends,” they say.
The grown-ups, while charmed by the kids, continue to think of obstacles. “Well, I couldn’t just go up to someone in here and ask them to play with me, that’s be a bit strange.”
“I think everybody should talk to everybody,” the child persists.
In the end, the kids and grownups exchange hugs and fist bumps, “You’ve really made my day…” one adult says, and a child sums it up, “Making friends is easier than eating chocolate.”
The video ends like this, “Remember when making friends was child’s play? Let’s be more open. Let’s be more together. Let’s be more us.[1]

Grief and fear want to divide us, but here is what we have the opportunity to do together. We have the opportunity to follow our children and dream big. Because of Jesus, we know that scarcity doesn’t have to be our defining story anymore.

Throughout God’s unfolding story, God bridges every divide… There’s a welcome table for strangers where God promises the gift of a child and the gift of mercy for a whole community. There’s manna and quail in the wilderness for people leaving a slavery mentality behind. There’s a little flour and a cup of oil that never run out.
Throughout Jesus’ ministry, Jesus broke bread and it multiplied enough to feed not only disciples but thousands. Jesus broke bread on Maundy Thursday, in the middle of his own grief, and dared to believe that even though his own heart was broken that somehow, love would multiply.
Our hearts break… because of personal stories that fill us with grief and fear, because of news that breaks our hearts, but we don’t have to be divided against each other, wondering if there’s really enough to go around, stuck in scarcity stories… instead we’re daring to move forward together holding onto a story of abundance.

Today, we will gather after worship and have an opportunity to get a first glimpse, a preview of this giving opportunity we’re calling—The Welcome Table…together, we bear fruit.
In this Capital Campaign, we hope to expand, to multiply our congregation’s ability to give love, to make a difference around tables, to share bread. We hope that we will grow in relationship through this shared gifting.

In today’s gospel, Mark is pointing to something important, something essential, about believing in Jesus. Because God becomes human, the incarnation, [turns over] every assumption of greatness that we think of as definitive. Because God becomes human, greatness is not about separation but solidarity, not about comparison but relationship. Not about self-[promotion] but empowerment and encouragement of [others]…

Greatness is determined by weakness and vulnerability. By service and sacrifice. By humility and honor. By truthfulness and faithfulness… we are called to embody this kind of greatness, so that the world can witness the true meaning of greatness born out of love.[2]

Can we imagine together that this is Christ’s call for us now? I wonder… and I hope we won’t be afraid to ask. But even more, I hope that we won’t be afraid to learn from Jesus and look to our children. They know the power of friendship around a table, a Welcome Table… where we’ll share bread, grow in relationship, practice love.

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[1] BMB Agency Published on May 9, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rS-mWHNvQbo, Accessed 9-22-2018

[2] Karoline Lewis, Dear Working Preacher for September 23, 2018, workingpreacher.org

Be open... here is your God

Mark 7: 24-37    

This week, our cousin Stephanie died.

Many of you have lost very dear friends, very dear family, too—people who like the Syrophoenician woman in Mark’s gospel today, met unkind and exclusive words with gospel truth, shared a spirit that said, “Ephphatha!” Be open to all that God has done, is doing, will do.

When called a dog, this stranger woman pushed back…

for love of her daughter, she pushed back.
The power of her faith is stunning… that even a crumb of Jesus’ healing power would be far more than enough to cast a demon from her daughter and save her life.
When someone dies, we often only tell the good stories about them, painting half truths about their life. The thing is, you'd have to dig for a long time to come up with a story about Steph that wasn't surrounded in goodness, mercy and love. What could we say? That she was just too kind? Too much of a servant [& justice-seeker]? Too quick to show up for others? Preached too big of Gospel? Goodness and mercy and love surrounded Stephanie, as surely as goodness and mercy and love have led her home to Jesus. In the wake of this death are her three small ones and husband, large extended family, ginormous circle of friends and colleagues, a congregation for whom Good Friday has arrived out of turn. We trust that Jesus works near the wounded, near the wound, binding up the brokenhearted. Grief is a consequence of love--and my how she loved; how she was loved…. This life is not a dress rehearsal. Today, beloved. Today is not a dress rehearsal, it's the real thing.
but I have to tell you that I am far more afraid of us dreaming too small and asking for too little from one another and missing this vital moment.
who lifts up those who | are bowed down… who cares | for the stranger; who sustains children who have lost their mother, the ones who have lost their life partner… (Psalm 146)
For those of us who are used to having a place at the table, maybe we need to be reminded that none of us has any right or privilege whatsoever to claim with God. We all come as beggars to the table, and it is solely by God’s grace that we are fed. God’s welcome table is immeasurably larger than we can imagine.[2]
And for those of us who identify more easily with the Syrophoenician woman begging for crumbs, it must be said that Jesus does not leave any of us in a state of beggarliness. Christ seats us at the table and claims us as God's beloved children -- children from every language and nation. Even crumbs from the table would be enough for our healing and salvation—because in just a crumb Christ is fully present.[3] But Jesus has given more than enough. He sets an abundant, life-giving feast for all.

Even if you won’t give me bread, won’t you give me the crumbs?

And in this amazing response, you can almost see Jesus’ eyes widen, his breath taken away.

This stranger’s trust in Jesus was far more than his disciples’ trust, even though they had seen Jesus multiply loaves for more than 5000 hungry souls. The usual suspects didn’t understand about the bread… But that gutsy stranger did. With just a word, her daughter was healed.

And then Mark tells a story of a man who couldn’t hear or speak. His friends ask Jesus just to touch him… but Jesus does way more than they asked for, sticking his fingers into the man’s ears, putting spit on his tongue. The man ends up able to hear and speak… and in fact, when Jesus tells people not to mention it, they can’t stop talking…

They are intriguing, weird, amazing stories—healing because of challenging push-back from a stranger, healing that’s kind of over-the-top, invasive…

But what about for us?

What about for us who are having trouble hearing right now… and no devices or prayers have made that better? What about for those of us who can’t speak… ?

What about us? The ones whose sons and daughters have not been healed of their demons—whatever that means to us…

Saint Teresa of Avila is remembered for this sentiment… – If this is how you treat your friends, God, no wonder you have so few!

What about us? Even though over 176,590 people followed her story and prayed fervently around the clock these past two weeks… faithful Stephanie died.

Of course, I’m biased, but here’s what Jodi Houge, one of our pastor colleagues, wrote:

Those of us who knew her will miss Stephanie so much… So many circles and tables, her congregations, her mother’s heart, and most of all her own home has an empty space without her, and in this grief, we are connected to every one of you who has lost a dear one… we’re connected to a whole world that grieves because like Jesus’ disciples, so few of us understand about the loaves. We are clueless, really, most of the time, to God’s abundance.

Here at Christ, we are about to embark on a Capital Campaign together and as we have had initial conversations around little tables about our capacity as a congregation—and if and whether we can do the things we think God is calling us to do—specifically, right now, that is to renovate our kitchens and pay our first Deacon and seed a hunger ministry that could transform us and bring new life for years to come.

This is a big dream for a congregation that has historically thought of itself as “struggling”…

One of our team leaders wrote this to me:

Our congregation clearly faces significant challenges and we ought to be wise about how we move forward… The one decision we can’t afford to make is to be safe. First of all, if we think we are safe or can be safe we are operating under an illusion, and secondly, a desire to be safe is a decision to underperform, to be irrelevant and cease to exist. Therefore, as we celebrate 150 years, let’s celebrate with a full recognition of all it entails.

We can’t help it… our inclination is to restrict God’s intent to restore life to all.

We resist and oppose just how far God is willing to go so that all experience resurrected life. We always tend to make God less than God is...[1]

But death, birth, baptism, diagnosis, tragedy, celebration can also potentially connect us to the God who experiences all of these milestones personally…

Another Teresa said, “Let us touch the dying, the poor, the lonely and the unwanted according to the graces we have received and let us not be ashamed or slow to do the humble work.”

She also said, “In this life we can do no great things. We can only do small things with great love.” – Mother Teresa

Spiritual nourishment for faithful people is essential, and our congregation’s mission cannot end there. Like Jesus himself, his disciples are continually called to a larger vision of mission -- one that aims to embrace the outsider, the stranger…

I’m going to end with a few words from preacher Karoline Lewis:

It is a rare moment when we glimpse how much beyond our comprehension God really is and how much beyond our imagination God’s love extends. And in that same moment, we perceive how easy it is to give in to this world’s estimations of God, this world’s [tendency] to limit what God can do. How quickly we retreat from zealous proclamation and settle for lukewarm confession. How often we shrink in fear from the bold belief, “Here is your God” (Isaiah 34:4).

In our worship and service together, in the risk-taking actions of throwing a really big party for our 150^th Anniversary (to bring all kinds of people from our past, present, and future to the table) and kicking off a Capital Campaign, God challenges us to consider how we will live out our faith together, in ways that will better reflect God’s kindness, mercy and justice.

We don’t have forever… we just have this time, this place… this season to recognize God’s abundance and give from it with great love.

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[1] Karoline Lewis, workingpreacher.org

[2] Elisabeth Johnson, workingpreacher.org

[3] A note from Pike Hunter, “To add my own two-cents, I think the crumbs are Jesus (the Summer of John 6), that is why she is satisfied with them.  This narrative is tucked right between the feeding of the 5000 and the 4000. All this bread is pointing to Jesus. Remember the disciples were hard-hearted after the feeding of the 5000 because they did not understand about the loaves. This woman, unclean outcast, not a disciple, understands about the loaves. Jesus is her bread of life. She'll take the crumbs because a crumb of Jesus is all of Him.  And there will be even more baskets full of bread after the 4000. More Jesus! But this time all the bread is for the gentile, outcasts from the region of Tyre.”  - Pike Hunter, in a comment attached to the commentary at workingpreacher.org on Mark 9 by Elisabeth Johnson, September 9, 2018.