Saturday, October 6, 2018

Bold Love



(Scriptures: Esther 7:1-10; 9:20-22; Psalm 124; James 5:1-20, Mark 9:35-50)
Our Gospel reading this week is Jesus at his least warm and fuzzy.  Last week’s gospel ended with Jesus cradling a small child in his arms and teaching his disciples that to welcome such a child was to welcome him, and ultimately to welcome God.  Though it wasn’t part of this week’s reading, I decided to start there in order to make the connection to this week’s reading.  This week Jesus gives us visions of millstones around necks, dismembered hands and hellfire – the stuff of nightmares.  And yet, ultimately it is part of the good news of Jesus Christ.
"If any of you put a stumbling-block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.”, Jesus told his disciples.  The Greek word translated here as “put a stumbling block before” is skandalise, from which come English words such as “scandal” and “scandalize”.  So Jesus is telling his disciples not to cause scandal that would cause “these little ones” – children or other vulnerable persons – to lose faith. 
In last week’s reading, Jesus told his disciples to welcome children.   While this week’s reading contains vivid and even brutal imagery, it’s ultimately about creating safety so that children and other vulnerable persons can truly feel welcome – after all, how can we feel welcome and secure when we’re under attack.  Parents can be very gentle with their children, and yet very aggressive and even physically threatening – in a word, fierce -  toward anyone who threatens harm to their children – and this is appropriate.  Love can be both gentle and fierce – they are two sides of the same coin, so to speak.  Jesus is saying that God’s love for us is like that – gentle toward children and toward all who are vulnerable and disadvantaged, yet fierce toward those who would abuse and exploit the vulnerable.
The words of Scripture are powerful, and have a way of appearing in unexpected places.  As it happens, the verse about the millstone was quoted on page 129 of the Pennsylvania Grand Jury report on abuse of children by Roman Catholic clergy.  A priest for the Diocese of Greensburg, accused of having abused roughly three dozen underage males, had testified to the grand jury that he had no idea his actions had caused significant harm.  The attorney for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania responded:  You didn't know that Scripture itself says it is better to put a millstone around your neck and be cast into the sea than harm a child?”  And  the priest acknowledged remembering that verse, even though he ignored it through the course of his ministry – as did hundreds of other priests and bishops in Pennsylvania alone.[1]
We live in a time of scandal, a time in which we see all too much of humanity at our worst.  For children abused by clergy, their sense of violation is compounded by the teaching instilled in them that the abusive clergy stand in for God.  And so those who are abused feel betrayed and violated, not only by the offending clergy, not only by the church, but by God.   The faith of many who have been abused is thus destroyed; many can hardly bring themselves to enter a church, even if only for a wedding or a funeral.  And it goes without saying that parents who had been abused as children are unlikely to bring their children up in the church, to subject them to the same abuse they’d experienced.  And so the effects of clergy abuse of children are not only devastating to the abused, but they are generational, as children and grandchildren are lost to the church. 
It goes without saying that abusive clergy don’t walk around with horns or tails or other obvious markers indicating their depravity – they can hide in plain sight, so to speak.  Decades ago I was acquainted with an elderly Roman Catholic priest, now deceased, whose name later appeared in the 2005 Philadelphia grand jury report.  I had no inkling of his activities.  I know that this issue hits close to home, as abusive priests have served parishes in Bridesburg and in Port Richmond.  And this problem is not unique to Roman Catholic clergy – it cuts across all denominations.  In the United Church of Christ, as in many mainline protestant churches, there are measures to prevent such abuse – psychological testing of candidates for ministry and regular boundary training sessions for clergy serving churches.  And yet there is a lot of pain out there, and a lot of healing that has yet to occur.
We also live in the time of the #Metoo movement.  I, for one, welcome it.  And I’d like us to consider our reading from Esther from the standpoint of the women in the story.  A summary of the book of Esther up to today’s reading may be helpful.  There was a king, who had a queen by the name of Vashti.  On one fateful day, when the king was in his cups, he ordered Vashti, his queen, to “display her beauty” to the king’s courtiers; that is to say, to put her body on display for a bunch of leering, half-drunk men.  Vashti put her foot down and told the king that she would do no such thing.  And the king threw a royal temper tantrum.  He consulted his advisors, who counseled that if Vashti’s refusal was allowed to stand, all the women of the realm would stand up to their husbands, and of course they couldn’t have that – and so, on their advice, the king banished Vashti from his presence – which, while hard on her purse, probably gave Vashti a much saner life. 
After the king’s royal temper tantrum had subsided, he missed Vashti, and went on the prowl for a new queen to replace her.  A sort of national beauty contest was held, which Esther, a Jew, won.  Her uncle Mordecai had apprised her of threats against the Jewish people by one of king’s officials whose name was Haman.  Haman had issued orders on the king’s behalf for the destruction of the Jewish people.  Queen Esther took her life into her hands, came out as a Jew, told the king about Haman’s plot – and the Jewish people in the realm were saved.
While it’s quite a story, it’s notable that none of this would have happened had the king listened to Vashti, his first wife.  The king could have done the decent thing in accepting his wife’s refusal to put herself on display.  He could have listened to his wife. But he didn’t.  And he considered her expendable, someone he could beckon or banish at a whim, with no autonomy or control over her own life.  He did listen to Esther, though – perhaps his experience with Vashti taught him something.  But in speaking to the king, Esther took her own life in her hands – as she told her uncle, “if I perish, I perish”. 
In the story, the Jewish people were saved because a woman, at great risk to herself, spoke up to her husband about the threat she was under.  Today, a number of women are speaking up about the harassment and worse that have marked their lives.   Women are telling stories, decades old, about how they’ve been harassed and assaulted in the work place and elsewhere.  Three days ago, my mom – age 83 – told me about a male co-worker of hers decades ago, in the 1970’s, when she worked as a stenographer, who pressured her for services that were not a part of any written job description.   She spoke of how she timed her arrivals and departures at work, her restroom breaks, her routes from one office to another, to avoid running into this coworker, particularly when she was alone.  Yet she didn’t speak up, because she was afraid of losing her job, a job that helped to support my sister and me.  Not exactly the conversation I’d anticipated having with my 83 year old mother, but there we were. While my mom has told me lots of harrowing stories over the years about her work life, I had only heard parts of this story before.  It struck me, the elaborate strategies and tactics my mom used in order to avoid harassment.  And it struck me that as a male, I’ve never in my life had to give a moment’s thought to similar precautions for myself. 
Yesterday, downtown, there was a rally against rape.  I took the train downtown and attended, wearing my collar.  There were counter-protestors – religious counter-protesters.  it’s hard for me to imagine anyone speaking up for rapists, but these counter-protestors loudly proclaimed, claiming to speak for God no less, that women who were raped deserved it because of how they dressed, or because they allowed themselves to get drunk in places where men were present.   I walked over to join a group blocking off the counter-protesters from the main rally.  As I stood there, holding a sign saying, “No means no”, an elderly African American woman walked over to me.  She took one of my hands and held it between hers, told me how much the counter-protesters had offended and upset her, and told me how much it meant for her to see me there with my collar and my sign, as a witness that the counter-protestors didn’t speak for all clergy or all Christians.   
Jesus said, “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.”  These words of Jesus sound over-the-top crazy – and indeed, they’re not meant to be taken literally – but they are a strong call for offenders to take responsibility for their own actions and for the consequences.  Jesus didn’t say, “If your eye tempts you to sin, force the women around you to wear burlap sacks.”   For Jesus, the responsibility is on the harasser to change his ways, not on those around him to vary their routines, as my mom did 40 years ago.
In speaking out to her husband, Esther showed a bold love for her people, and was willing to risk her life on their behalf.  Jesus also calls us to a bold love in protecting children and the vulnerable, and speaking out against any who would threaten them.  May God grant us courage to speak the truth in love. Amen.


[1] 40th Statewide Investigating Grand Jury, Report 1, Interim – Redacted, p. 129 
http://media-downloads.pacourts.us/InterimRedactedReportandResponses.pdf?cb=22148

Homecoming (157th Anniversary Sermon)


Scriptures:            Joel 2:21-27,       Psalm 84,      James 3:13-18    Mark 9:30-37



Happy 157th Birthday, Emanuel Church!  We’ve come through another year of service to our Lord Jesus Christ.   Another year of fellowshipping with one another, of growing together in Christian love. Another year of sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ.  Another year of serving our community.   Today we celebrate another milestone in our 157 year pilgrimage of faith – together. 
Our Scripture readings point to different aspects of what it means to be a community of faith.  Our Psalm this morning, Psalm 84, gives us the words of a worshipper overcome with joy just to be in the house of the Lord – and of course, for the Psalmist, this would have been the Temple at Jerusalem.   The writer is overcome with joy just at being able to be in God’s presence.  He’s so, so incredibly happy just to be there!  And as the writer is worshipping, he looks up, and sees….”oh, look, birds have built a nest near the altar”.  Now – I can remember a few years ago a bird got into the sanctuary here at Emanuel.   During worship it would fly from one side of the church to the other, near the front – and, of course, it left its calling cards wherever it rested.  Sometimes while I was preaching, it would caw…and I’d take it as a sign that at least the bird was listening to me.  Or maybe it was a sign that my sermons were for the birds.  I know Margie and Michael had gone up above the balcony to see where the bird might have gotten in, and if I remember correctly, Millie and her broom finally persuaded the bird to leave.  But in the Psalm, the writer is feeling generous:  the Temple is a spiritual home for the Psalmist, and there’s room enough for it to be home to the sparrows and swallows who nest there.  For the writer, the sparrows’ nest near the altar is a sign that God’s shelter and protection extend even to the humblest of God’s creatures, even to the birds that nest there – and we might also remember Jesus’ words about how God provides even for the birds, that a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without God’s notice. 
The writer of Psalm 84 is just so happy to be able to come to the Temple to worship, as he writes, “Better is one day here than a thousand days anywhere else!  I’d rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell with the wicked.”  I can remember 40+ years ago, in my home church growing up, when I was Lilly’s and little Eric’s age, being an acolyte, dressing in a white robe and lighting the candles at the beginning of the service and snuffing them out at the end, and how privileged I felt to be able to have that small part in worship.  And, of course, having had some mishaps with wax candles here, we’ve gone over to electric candles, but I’d still like for our teens to be able to have some part in worship, to experience that sense of being a small part of something greater than myself, of being a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord.  I’m giving a homework assignment to our elders and deacons…find ways to involve our teens in worship. 
Our reading from the Old Testament prophet Joel promises a time of restoration for God’s people.  In the beginning of the book of Joel, swarms of locusts have overrun the country, eating all the grain and other plants and leaving hardly anything for God’s people.  Joel sees this as a sign from God, and calls on the people to repent.  But then, in today’s reading, he promises that God will restore their fortunes, that God would repay them for the years the locust had eaten.  We as a congregation, over our 157 years, have known prosperous years and lean years.   Our church history tells of how this congregation began with all of nine dollars in the bank.  Over the decades, the ladies of the church, saving their nickels, kept Emanuel church going.  We experienced major growth in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, particularly under the 30+ year ministry of Rev Forster.  But then, over our 157 years, there have been years that have been eaten by locusts, years where we did little more than keep the doors open – and even today, we struggle.  But through the words of Joel, God promised God’s people that there would be a time of restoration, and I believe even today, we at Emanuel can experience a time of restoration for our congregation – and perhaps this restoration has begun.  Over this past year, our community ministries have expanded, as we now have a monthly homeless outreach, and, God willing, may be able to start a ministry to veterans in months to come.  The Emanuel Church of the future may not look like the Emanuel Church of the past – but I do believe this congregation has a future.  God can restore the years that the locust has eaten, for this church and in our individual lives.  As we keep faith with God, God will keep faith with us.
For a community of faith to walk together for 157 years, as we have, is a testimony to the quality of community that has been here in the past, and still continues to sustain us.  Not that we don’t have our disagreements – we’ve had plenty of squabbles over the years, and don’t always see eye to eye today.   But for our congregation to endure, the faith that brings us together has to be greater than the disagreements that would drive us apart.  Our brief reading from the letter of James tells us what our life together is to be like.   True godly wisdom is demonstrated in deeds that come from a place of humility.   By contrast, according to James, bitter envy and selfish ambition literally come from the pit of hell.   James writes, “the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.”  James promises that “Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.”  And so how we treat one another matters, not only to us, but to God.   
We see selfish ambition causing trouble among the disciples in our Gospel reading.   Jesus and his disciples are on their way to Jerusalem.  Jesus was trying to prepare his disciples for what will happen there – far from being on the road to glory, for Jesus, at the end of the journey was a cross.  And this was the second time Jesus told his disciples that death on a cross awaited him in Jerusalem.  But the disciples weren’t hearing Jesus – on one hand, they just couldn’t wrap their minds around what Jesus was saying about his impending death – in their minds, Jesus’ words just did not compute - and on the other hand they were afraid to ask him what he meant.  The writer of Mark’s gospel gives his readers a sense that Jesus sometimes lost patience with his disciples – remember, in last Sunday’s gospel reading, Jesus had referred to Peter as Satan - and perhaps the disciples were afraid that if they asked Jesus a question, he’d just jump down their throats again.
So instead of asking Jesus what he meant, they talked amongst themselves – and their discussion shows how absolutely oblivious they were to what Jesus was trying to get through their heads.  At a time when Jesus was telling them that his days among them were numbered, the disciples were jockeying for power, arguing over who among them was the greatest, probably arguing over who would be in charge when Jesus was gone.  If I had been Jesus, I’d have been sorely tempted to tie the lot of them up in a big sack and drown them, and start over with some new disciples.  But instead, Jesus recognizes a learning moment, and gives them a teaching with a visual aid.  He tells them, “Whoever wants to be first of all must be last of all and servant of all.”  And then the visual aid, to help them remember this teaching – he put a child in the center of the group and said, “Whoever welcomes a child like this welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not just me, but welcomes God who sent me.”
“Whoever wants to be first of all must be last of all and servant of all.”  As we mark our 157th anniversary and look to the future, serving all who come our way, serving this neighborhood of Bridesburg in which God has planted us, is the way forward for Emanuel Church.  Absent a miracle, we will never have the biggest building or the most modern facilities, and while I think our worship here glorifies God and feeds the spirits of those who come here, we’ll never, absent a miracle, be mistaken for a megachurch.  But we can stand out in the quality of our community and our caring for others.  And word can spread:  if you’re hungry, if you’re hurting, if you’re lonely, if you’re in need of a hopeful word, check out Emanuel Church on Fillmore Street.   They may not look like much from the outside, but they love God, and they really care about people.  You’ll find friends there, and maybe God will find you there.  More than one of our members has told me that Sundays at Emanuel Church are the high point of the week, indeed the main thing that helps you get through the week.  And so as small as we are, it’s important that we’re here.  What we do here changes lives, even saves lives.  It’s important that we’re here.
And then there’s Jesus’ visual aid – placing a child in the center of the group.   In Jesus’ time, children were not highly valued – in case of a disaster, it most certainly was not “women and children first”.   In the society of Jesus’ day, life was cheap and the lives of children were considered particularly expendable – it’s hard for us in our day to get our minds around, but that’s the historical record.   Indeed, I think one of the successes of the Christian church is that among religious and secular people alike, we place a high value on caring for our children.  
It’s often been said that a church without children is a church without a future.  I’d also say that a church without children is a church with a diminished, spiritually impoverished present.  I’m grateful for the children who are able to be with us.  They are not only the future of our church, but the present.  I pray that more families with children will come our way, and that we will be a safe and nurturing community, that our children will grow up strong in the faith, that the faith of our fathers and mothers will become their faith, and that of their children. 
So – Happy 157th anniversary Emanuel Church!  God who has been our help in ages past will, I pray, be our hope for years to come.  And this church, which has been a spiritual home in this community for the past 157 years will, I pray, continue to provide care and nurture for all who come our way.  Amen.