Joel D. Kline
August 29, 2004
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Sometimes there can be a huge divide between our words and our actions. Early on in my experience in pastoral ministry I encountered a troubled fellow who traveled through life with a chip on his shoulder, viewing life and relationships from the perspective of fear, suspicion, prejudice, and animosity. With some frequency he would pray, in a blaring voice that seemed angry and judgmental, that God would teach us to love—even spelling out the word for us in his prayers, L-O-V-E—while only moments later spewing words that seemed anything but loving toward those of differing perspective and life experience. Even though his caustic manner disturbed many in the congregation, he continued to be asked to teach one of the adult Sunday School classes. When I questioned why this unhealthy pattern was allowed to continue, the response came back, “Oh, no one really takes him seriously, but this provides for him a place where he is needed.”
How is it that we become a faith community in which persons of varied experiences and perspectives feel welcomed, while at the same time we hold individuals accountable to the challenge of the gospel to align our actions with our words of faith? That is to say, how do we embody the grace and compassion, the mercy and goodness, the self-giving love and servanthood of Jesus in our relationships with one another?
Consider these kinds of questions in the light of this morning’s Gospel lesson from Luke, chapter fourteen. It’s a passage of Scripture in which Jesus once again finds himself embroiled in conflict with the scribes and Pharisees, the religious leaders of the day. Indeed, chapter fourteen begins with Luke’s observation that the religious leaders “were watching [Jesus] closely” (14:1), apparently to see just how devoutly Jesus would follow God’s law. We sometimes portray the Pharisees as the “bad guys,” when in reality they were a group of believers devoted to living out the law, even to the smallest details of life. But Jesus recognizes that, along the way, these religious leaders have lost sight of the primary focus of faith, so concerned had they become with rituals of purity and with minute details of law keeping. And what is that primary focus, but the call to model God’s compassion and grace.
Among the rituals of purity meticulously followed by the scribes and Pharisees was that of hand washing. Not only was hand washing crucial prior to eating, but also between each course of the meal, with the law proscribing every detail of the act of hand washing, beginning with the amount of water to be used. Ancient law had come to assert that enough water to fill one and a half egg shells is to be poured over one’s hands, beginning at the tips of one’s fingers and running down to the wrist. Then the palm of each hand is to be cleansed by rubbing the fist of the other hand into it. And finally, water must once again be poured over the hand, this time beginning at the wrist and running down to the fingertips.
To omit any of these actions would render an individual unclean, and the Pharisees would only welcome to their table those who were ritually clean. This is particularly important in Luke’s Gospel, which portrays significantly more mealtime scenes that any of the other Gospels. With some frequency Luke writes of Jesus going to a meal, sharing a meal with others, or returning from a meal—all reminders that in ancient Palestine meals were important social occasions. Others noticed where you ate, with whom you ate, where you sat to eat, and whether or not you had washed properly prior to eating. Each of these matters, in fact, helped determine one’s social standing.
But not only do the scribes and Pharisees watch Jesus closely, but apparently Jesus watches them just as closely, as they scheme and maneuver to be seated in positions of honor and prestige, alongside of those whom they considered worthy of their presence. Noting all their plotting, Jesus asserts,
When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, “Give this person your place,” and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, “Friend, move up higher;” then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you (14:8-11).
In the Sermon on the Mount there are several occasions in which Jesus says to his would-be followers, “You have heard it said, but I say to you …” “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not murder.’ But I say to you that if you insult a brother or a sister, you will be liable to judgment.” “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:21-22; 38-39; 43-44).
After watching the maneuvering for seats of respect, Jesus responds with the same sort of “you have heard that it was said, but I say to you” kind of saying. Jesus turns things upside down, reversing long-held assumptions about what it means to be faithful. Even today, there are many followers of Jesus far more concerned with issues of purity than with acts of compassion and love. Even today, there are many followers of Jesus who would be every bit as appalled as were the scribes and Pharisees to see Jesus associating with the “wrong” kind of people.
While the scribes and Pharisees focus attention on outward appearance and practice, Jesus urges his followers to look more deeply, to see the presence of God in all manner of people. Jesus practices what he preaches, touching the untouchables and calling the “nobodies”—those relegated to the fringes of society—to join with him in ministry.
Do you remember the story from the early church, related in the book of Acts, in which Philip, one of seven chosen to assist the apostles, finds himself ministering to the Samaritans, long-time enemies of the Jewish people. Even as the Samaritans respond eagerly, Philip senses the Spirit’s call to move on, this time to the desert of Gaza. Once there, he sees a traveling chariot in which a eunuch from Ethiopia is traveling. The eunuch, a high-ranking official in the court of Queen Candace, is returning from a visit to the temple of Jerusalem where he has gone to worship Yahweh, the God of the Hebrews.
In ancient times eunuchs—castrated males—with some frequency occupied positions of high responsibility in royal households. But not so among the Jewish community, for eunuchs were excluded by law from the worshiping congregation. Deuteronomy 23:1 asserts quite clearly that the eunuch “shall not enter the assembly of the Lord.” But the eunuch experiences a deep yearning for encounter with God, so much so that he travels to Jerusalem knowing full well that, once there, he likely would not be permitted to enter the Temple, not even the outer court of the Gentiles. Truth is, the doors of the Temple were barred to the eunuch, proclaiming that there was no place in God’s family for this seeker of God.
In spite of fresh rejection, the eunuch is continuing to pore over the Hebrew Scriptures, and when Philip approaches him, he’s reading a description of the Suffering Servant, found in Isaiah 53—no doubt wondering who this Servant is. Philip inquires, “Do you understand what you are reading?” To which the eunuch replies, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” (Acts 8:30-31).
In his book entitled God has a Dream Archbishop Desmond Tutu reminds us that you and I “are the agents of transformation that God uses to transfigure the world.” Philip embraces this role as agent of transformation, living and sharing the good news of Jesus, the One who has willingly given his life for the sake of all people. Can you not imagine this eunuch, recently spurned by Temple officials, wondering aloud, “All people? Even me?” And when Philip assures the eunuch that God’s love does indeed reach to him, the eunuch—this one who had so recently found himself on the outside peering in, hoping to hear just a snippet of the prayers and songs and interpretation of Scripture—this eunuch is so overjoyed that he cries out to Philip, “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?” (Acts 8:36).
Philip, already under fire for baptizing Samaritans, now baptizes a eunuch. Those who had been raised to believe that there was no place in the Lord’s assembly for eunuchs would have been appalled at Philip’s welcoming gesture, and yet, is not Philip’s act representative of the widening embrace of Jesus? Again and again throughout the Gospels, is not Jesus portrayed as the One who reaches out to those normally forgotten and excluded—to the broken, the unwanted, the poor, the lame, to all previously seen as “unclean.”
Is not one of the great tragedies of the modern church that, all too often, the gospel intended to bring hope and new life is used as a club to exclude and to deny the possibility of that new life? Henri Nouwen, writing in his book Finding My Way Home, reminds us, “Christian community is the place where we keep the flames of hope alive among us and take it seriously so that it can grow and become stronger in us.” Christian community is the place where we can experience firsthand the welcoming embrace of Jesus, and then extend that welcoming love to others.
In his commentary on this morning’s text from Luke 14, N.T. Wright asserts,
The small-mindedness which pushes itself forward and leaves others behind is confronted with the large-hearted love of God. All Christians are called to the same healthy dependence on God’s love and the same generosity in sharing it with those in need.
Sisters and brothers, may the sometimes-huge divide between our words and actions be lessened, as we embrace the large-hearted love of God and seek to share it in our daily encounters and relationships. Amen.
For the beauty of the earth, for the gift of life together in the body, for the promise of life abundant and everlasting—for all this and more, O God, we raise our hearts in grateful praise.
For refreshing rains and abundant gardens, for the wonders of creation, for the joy of relationships, O God, we raise our hearts in grateful celebration. Hear us now, holy God, as individually we express our thankfulness for the vastness of your creative powers and love … .
Gracious God, we hear your call to love wholeheartedly, to embrace your vision for living, to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly in your presence. Yet we confess that all too frequently we go our own way in life, paying little heed to your call and to the needs of our sisters and brothers in the human family. Our actions frequently do not match our words of faith. Forgive us, O God; create in us clean hearts; restore us to right living.
Hear us now, loving God, as we remember those in special need of your healing touch … .
O God of all peoples and of all creation, we come yearning for peace and wholeness. We pray for the coming of your kingdom, for that day when nations no longer teach the ways of war, but instead choose the art of peacemaking, justice and compassion.
Empowering God, guide us in paths of faithfulness, that we might pray and work for peace, that we might become ambassadors of your reconciliation and messengers of your hope. We pray in the name of Christ Jesus, whose Spirit strengthens us for the journey of faith. Amen.