Readings for the Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Year B – Track 2 – Proper 21)
This sermon was preached at Christ Episcopal Church in Eureka CA on Sunday September 30, 2018.
A few years ago, while leading a kid’s church service in Sausalito, I invited the children to sit silently and imagine God holding them and hugging them in his warm embrace. I also encouraged them to listen to the silence, telling them that it is often in silence that God speaks. (The Spanish Mystic St. John of the Cross said, “Silence is God’s first language. Everything else is a poor translation.”) After a good 30 seconds of silence, I asked them what they had heard. One child said that he heard some birds chirping outside; another said she heard some leaves rustling; and another heard the loud fan of the projector spinning. A new family was visiting that morning, whose daughter and son were eager to participate. The daughter responded to my question, saying, “I heard God speak to me.”
“Wow!” I said. Slightly apprehensive but mostly curious, I asked, “What did God say to you?”
She said, “God told me that he loves everybody, even the bad people.”
I think everyone in the room felt the beauty of this child’s wisdom and compassion, which seemed to be divinely inspired. I imagine we were all thinking, “Out of the mouths of babes, you, Lord, have perfected your praise.” After thanking the young girl for sharing her wonderful divine revelation with us, her younger brother piped up and said, “I also heard God speak to me!”
“Ok, wow! What did God say to you?” I asked.
“God told me that he loves everybody, except for the bad people.”
We all chuckled a bit at the contradiction and I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, except I knew I wanted to affirm both of them as receivers and channels of God’s voice. What would you say to them?
In many ways, these two siblings represent the church, made up of diverse peoples with different and sometimes opposing beliefs. We all believe we are listening to the same God, but sometimes we hear very different things; sometimes things that, on the surface, appear to contradict each other. Although I personally might want to stress the mercy of God, which I experience and receive in my moments of prayer and silence just like the little girl, I still need to remain in conversation with those who stress the justice of God (or even the wrath of God), which some may likely experience in their prayer and silence, just like the little boy, who is the girl’s brother, part of his family. The two children invited me to see that those Christians who hold different beliefs than me are still part of my spiritual family. In many ways, I need them.
I proudly identify as an Episcopalian and an Anglican even though I know many Anglicans hold beliefs and positions with which I disagree. The worldwide Anglican Communion, made up of more than 80 million members in more than 165 countries, is the third largest Christian communion in the world (after the Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox churches) and is therefore very likely to have diverse and opposing beliefs held among its many members. It seems the Holy Spirit says one thing to a young, white male Episcopalian in California and something quite different to an African female Anglican in the Anglican province of Uganda, for which we pray today. (By the way, statistically, the average Anglican is a sub Saharan African woman in her 30s). So is God speaking out of both sides of his mouth or is God a Mystery too big for any of our limited minds to understand?
Jesus says, “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.” In last week’s Gospel, Jesus took a child in his arms while he was teaching his disciples and I imagine him still holding this same child in his warm embrace while saying these words. “If you get in the way of my love and my perfect will for this child, it would be better for you to get out of the way completely. If you condemn or reject this child, you will have hell to pay.”
Which brings me back to the kid’s worship service in Sausalito where two siblings have just experienced the warm embrace of God in silence and received two different messages from the divine. I eventually responded to them by saying, “Well, it looks like we have two different theologies here and that’s ok.” I’m glad I said that and still a part of me wishes I also said something like, “Remember that you two are family and that you need each other. You will learn a lot about God from one another. You might disagree and you might want the other one to stop saying things that you don’t think are true about God. But stay in conversation, even when it’s hard, especially when it’s hard. Stay in dialogue.”
This has been a very challenging and divisive week for our country. There’s no doubt about that. I’m reminded of what Pope Francis said to the US Congress when he gave an address to them three years ago. Several times, he said, “I want to be in dialogue with you” thus encouraging all of us to remain in dialogue with each other: Republicans in dialogue with Democrats, conservatives in dialogue with progressives and liberals. In his address, Pope Francis upheld Thomas Merton as a symbol of this openness to dialogue with others. Merton, whom I often quote in sermons, was a Trappist monk who lived at the Abbey of Gethsemani near Louisville KY. In one of my favorite books of his called New Seeds of Contemplation, he writes, “As long as we are on earth, the love that unites us will bring us suffering by our very contact with one another, because this love is the resetting of a Body of broken bones. Even saints cannot live on this earth without some anguish, without some pain at the differences that come between them.”
Staying in conversation with those with whom we strongly disagree is hard work. It can be painful and even full of anguish because, as Merton says, it is the resetting of a Body of broken bones.
Jesus says, “Everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt loses its saltiness, what good is it? Have salt in yourselves and be at peace with one another.” Fire refines and salt helps bring out the true flavor in that which is salted. We are fire and salt to one another. Although it can sometimes hurt and burn, dialogue with one another (especially with those with whom we disagree) can sharpen and refine us and ultimately bring out the best in us.
Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby suggests that the member churches of the Anglican Communion understand themselves as part of a family, a family of adult siblings who are free to disagree but cannot change the fact that they are still family. Years ago, I attended a meeting in Chicago led by former Presiding Bishop Frank Griswold and former Archbishop of Canterbury George Carey. George Carey was lamenting the state of the Anglican Communion at the time, which appeared to deeply divided and shattered, as our country appears to be today. Frank Griswold, on the other hand, was acknowledging the ultimately good pain and burn of the salt and fire of dialogue within the communion. Several times he explained and framed the state of the Anglican Communion or Anglican family by quoting Thomas Merton, this quote that I find especially helpful in the midst of our country’s current struggles and divisions: “As long as we are on earth, the love that unites us will bring us suffering by our very contact with one another, because this love is the resetting of a Body of broken bones. Even saints cannot live on this earth without some anguish, without some pain at the differences that come between them.”
Everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good. Have salt in yourselves and be at peace with one another.
What I love so much about the Episcopal Church is that, after the Liturgy of the Word, we always gather together at the Altar, as a spiritual family, even when we might disagree with one another, even when we might not like the sermon. There are as many different interpretations of the readings this morning as there are people in this church (as there are people in this world). And that’s ok because we are committed to one another even when we interpret Scripture differently and disagree, because we are family and we need each other. And I hope we can be committed to the salt and the fire of dialogue, knowing that our brothers and sisters can refine us and ultimately bring out the best in us as we together reset our Body of broken bones. Amen.
DANIEL DeFOREST LONDON 