Joel D. Kline
October 24, 2004
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
The Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost
Joyce Hollyday, formerly a member of the Sojourners community in Washington, D.C., shares her personal faith story in a book entitled Turning Toward Home. I recall an incident she describes, as she was in the midst of a bus ride from her college town in Maine to her home in Pennsylvania, because her much-loved grandfather had just died. It was a time of grief, a time when she felt very much alone. Part way through the trip a large woman, wearing a red knit stocking cap over a shock of white hair, boarded the bus. Though there were only a handful of passengers on the bus, this woman, complete with an armload of packages, plopped down in the seat beside Joyce, exclaiming, “Praise God! What a beautiful day!”
After a moment’s pause, the woman grabbed Joyce’s hand, looked deeply into her eyes, and gently asked, “Why are you so sad?” Almost in spite of herself, Joyce began to tell the unwanted stranger all about her grandfather. After listening for some time the woman responded, “You must have loved him very much. How good of God to give you such a gift!” And Joyce found that the women’s simple reminder to embrace gratitude brought a new quality into the grief she was experiencing.
The gift of gratitude. What a difference it makes when we recognize, even in the midst of life’s struggles and difficulties, even in the face of grief, how blessed we are with God’s gracious gifts. The gift of relationships, the gift of hope and of purposeful living, the gift of creation’s beauty, the gift of faith, the gift of our church community—all these and more open for us a new perspective on life that reminds us that we are not dependent on ourselves alone, but on the God who created us and who resources us to live creatively.
The parable Jesus tells of the Pharisee and the tax collector each going to the Temple to pray was surprising, even shocking, to its first hearers, for it is another one of the stories of Jesus that turn commonly-accepted notions on their head. The Pharisee, the religious leader, the one who meticulously keeps the law, is not the one who finds God’s favor, but rather the tax collector, the sinner, who stands off in the corner beating his breast and crying out contritely, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” Could it be that the Pharisee had lost sight of the source of the good gifts in his life, that he had come to trust in his own accomplishments alone, rather than in God.
In his devotional guide to Luke’s Gospel John Killinger asserts that
The essence of this poignant little story derives from the Pharisee’s failure to realize that he stood in the presence of God. Had he known that—had he felt an inkling of it—it would surely have caused him to fall prostrate upon the ground, tearing his garments and bewailing his unworthiness as the humble tax collector did.
Yet today, the story makes little sense to those of us raised in a culture that extols the self-made person, that assumes that all that we have and all that we are is our own doing. Jesus turns such notions upside down, reminding us that all that we have and all that we are comes as gift from God, and it is only as we live in that awareness, only as we let go of prideful arrogance and willful self-sufficiency, that we begin to experience life as God intends it be to lived.
The Pharisee had lost sight of the fact that you and I have been created for relationship, and our calling is to make space for others to experience with us the joy and wonder of life in God’s realm. Blinded to that truth, the Pharisee instead saw his faith as that which elevated him above others. “God,” prays the Pharisee, “I thank you that I am not like other people; thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.”
I am reminded of the elder son in another parable of Jesus, the story of the wayward and prodigal son being welcomed home by the waiting father. The father lavishes love upon the son, restoring him to full relationship and throwing a feast to celebrate the return. But the elder son, who had remained faithful at home, saw nothing to celebrate, and he refused to enter into the party. As with the self-righteous Pharisee, the older son little understood that faith is not simply a matter of following the rules. Much more, it is a matter of the heart. Faith is not simply a checklist of personal achievement and accomplishment; it is a matter of relationship with the God who yearns to be known intimately by us. Neither the elder son nor the Pharisee understood faith as a matter of surrender, letting go of self-preoccupation while embracing God’s love and grace as transforming gifts.
In today’s Gospel lesson one person comes in arrogance; the other comes in contrition. One comes self-possessed; the other comes ready to let go of self. One comes, convinced he’s already got it made; the other comes, knowing that he cannot make the changes needed in his life on his own power alone, and so he comes seeking the grace and wisdom and strength and mercy of God.
This parable of Jesus reminds us that the blessings of God have precious little to do with social standing and with personal accomplishment, with all of our competing and striving for recognition and status. Instead, we sense God’s blessings as we come in humility and trust, and as we allow God to lead us into community with others who seek to embody Christ’s new way of living. To follow Christ is to relate to one another with the very mind of Christ; it is to relate to each other as Christ relates to us in servanthood and humility.
Henri Nouwen reminds us that
We witness to God’s compassionate presence in the world by the way we live and work together. Those who were first converted by the apostles revealed their conversion not by feats of individual stardom but by entering into a new life in community…. God’s compassion became evident in a radically new way of living, which so amazed and surprised outsiders that they said, “See how they love one another.”
By entering into fellowship with Jesus Christ, who emptied himself and became as we are and humbled himself by accepting death on a cross, we enter into a new relationship with each other…. The mind of Christ is the mind that gathers us together in community; our life in community is the manifestation of the mind of Christ.
Fred Craddock is a frequent speaker at pastor’s conferences, and some time ago I heard him tell the story of an opportunity, early on in his ministry, to hear Albert Schweitzer speak, following an organ recital and reception in Schweitzer’s honor. Schweitzer, you will recall, was not only a noted medical missionary to Africa, but also an organist, a philosopher, a critical thinker, an author and theologian. Craddock went armed with questions. But when Schweitzer arrived, he stood up and delivered a simple challenge. “I thank you for your hospitality, for your gracious acceptance of me,” began Schweitzer. “But now I have to go back to Africa. My people there are dying. They are sick and they are hungry. If any of you have in you the love of Jesus, come help me.”
Craddock came for a theological discussion about the nature of Jesus, but heard a call to discipleship. He came away reminded that at the heart of faith is the challenge to use our gifts for ministry and service. There is a place for conversation about our faith, but ultimately that conversation must lead to decision. In these past weeks of worship, our focus has been on celebrating the many and varied gifts that characterize our life together in this church body. Gifts of creativity. Gifts of drama and music. Gifts of prayerful compassion and courageous action. Gifts of time and energy, financial resources and personal commitment. Gifts of leadership. Gifts that include passion for peace and justice, and thirst for right relationship with God and one another. Gifts of servanthood and humility.
This morning we celebrate the gifts of one individual, Jeanne Davies, as she is being formally licensed to the ministry. But her licensing service stands as a reminder that ministry does not belong to any one individual; each of us brings our gifts and our talents, all that we have and all that we are, to the community of Christ, and ultimately, all ministry is Christ’s. Together we are challenged to a time of decision. Will we use our gifts selfishly, will we seek to hold ourselves above others, or will we take on the mind and spirit of Christ, invite others to come with us to the party, to a time of celebrating the incredible love and compassion, justice and peace, grace and self-giving love of Jesus the Christ? For this is our mission and our calling, to be the church, witnesses of God’s compassionate presence in all creation.
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on us. Fall afresh on us with your mercy and grace. Accept us as we are, and take us by the hand, guiding us to become all that you envisioned for us when creating us. Fall afresh on us with your compassion and loving kindness. Fall afresh on us with your peace and hope.
Creator God, how blessed we are with your loving presence in our lives, with the beauty of your creation. We thank you, God, for the splendor of this fall season, for the gift of sunshine and rain, for experiences that refresh and renew us.
O God, hear us now as we turn our thoughts to those who are struggling in life—those who grapple with depression, those who sometimes feel isolated and lost, those who do not know the gift of living as part of a caring church community. We remember the poor in our midst, and pray for those who look to PADS and the Soup Kettle for shelter and food and support.
And now, O God, we hold before you those in special need of your healing mercies…
God of peace, deep in our souls we hunger and thirst for peace—peace in our hearts, peace in our community, peace in our world. Guide us in paths of peace. Grant us courage to speak peace, to pray peace, to sing peace, to walk in the ways of peace.
May your kingdom come among us, O God. May your will be done here and now on earth, even as it is in heaven. Through Christ Jesus we pray. Amen.