Sermons – Page 19 – Hunting Ridge Presbyterian Church

2 Cor. 5:11-21

Our next door neighbors have been married twice. To each other. I do not know why, but they were divorced many years ago. After some years apart, they were reconciled to one another and they re-established their marriage. So, when they go away for an anniversary trip each year, I always ask, “So how many years have you all been married?” And my neighbor always says, “Well, it depends….” For a time they went their separate ways. Then they came back together as one. Anything they had against each other had to be dropped and a new fresh start undertaken when they got re-married.

Bringing people together is God’s business. It is reconciliation. Bringing people together who have been at odds– either for a short time or for generations. Bringing people back to him who have walked away. God’s reason for sending his Son, Jesus Christ, was to reconcile us to him, to bring us back, to re-establish our original relationship, to reconnect us with the source of our life, the Creator. Paul says that this is what God is about: God reconciling the world to himself, re-establishing the relationship by not counting people’s sins against them. Sin had been the barrier, the wall, between God and God’s creation. God reaches out in reconciliation.

Jesus has come and gone. We are left to carry on. We have been trusted with this same message of reconciliation– re-connecting people to God and re-connecting people to one another. We do that by being ambassadors for Christ to others. We represent Christ to the world.

Reverend Allen Boesak and other leaders of South Africa were clear that human reconciliation can only happen when the two parties stand on equal footing. The uneven power between blacks and whites in South Africa is well known. Their attempt to move beyond apartheid has been a long, long struggle, even after the truth and reconciliation commission has done its work. Our newest statement of belief in our Book of Confessions comes from Belhar, South Africa, a statement which describes our role as agents of reconciliation with God. Listen: “We believe … that the church as the possession of God must stand where the Lord stands, namely against injustice and with the wronged; that in following Christ the church must witness against all the powerful and privileged who selfishly seek their own interests and thus control and harm others.” Ambassadors stand in for someone else. As ambassadors for Christ, we basically stand in for the Lord as agents of reconciliation, as people who re-establish relationships, as people committed to making the footing more even.

Reconciliation is hard work. Our footing is so uneven in this country that it is no wonder we are constantly tripping. Our footing is so uneven in the church of Jesus Christ that it is no wonder that people outside the church can’t figure out what an ambassador for Christ actually does. It will do us well to reflect a bit on our roles as ambassadors for Christ, as agents of reconciliation in our world.

First, let me share with you a story about a group of American Quakers visiting Ramallah, in the West Bank. While they were there, a Muslim family was the target of an Israeli military shooting spree, and had to huddle with their children on the floor of their home until the shooting stopped. When Nadia saw the Americans, she railed at them. “It was your country who provided the bullets and the guns which almost killed my whole family!” She was full of blame and anger toward anyone who represented the US in any way. The group of Quakers chose to represent Christ instead. They collected funds from each participant to give to the family in order to repair the damage to their home. They were not sure the gift would be accepted, and were worried that Nadia might be offended, thinking they were trying to buy her forgiveness. Perhaps she wanted nothing to do with Americans or Christians.

Just before the group left Ramallah, Nadia called to ask if she and her family could thank them in person. After sharing a meal and conversation together, Nadia asked, “Are Quakers Christians?” The members of the group answered “Yes, just not always very good ones!” “I thought so,” Nadia responded, “but I didn’t want to offend you.” She then reached into a bag and handed each one in the group a little Christian token: a Crusader’s Cross, a crucifix made of olive wood from Bethlehem.

A Muslim woman, nearly killed by weaponry supplied by the country of a group of visiting Christians, chose to express her gratitude with Christian souvenirs. A wooden crucifix is not exactly part of the Quaker tradition, but that did not matter. A gift is a gift. Being ambassadors for Christ means being ambassadors for peace, and agents of reconciliation.

Now let’s talk about being ambassadors closer to home. So how are we ambassadors for Christ in the face of the hatred, bigotry, racism and fear that became so terribly visible last weekend in Orlando, Florida? Were the victims targeted because they were Latino immigrants? Or because they were part of the LGBT community? Or because they were happy, simply enjoying life with friends in a safe, comfortable setting? A twisted, angry mind combined with a weapon designed for war is a recipe for death. Again.

We have just passed the one year mark after the devastating shooting in a Charleston church. That rocks us to the core. Churches are safe places. But when hatred spews out combined with a weapon, families are in mourning and a community is shaken. We know they were targeted because they were black. But also because they were church folk? Also because of the long held activism for civil rights on the part of that church in the community?

We live in a world that is intent on labeling, dividing into “us” and “them”, building walls and drawing lines. These divisions are based on sexual identity, race, national origin, religion, or geographical location. All human-made divisions. It makes footing very uneven and it makes reconciliation a very big job. As an ambassador for Christ, what do you say when you are at a family reunion and someone is putting down people who identify as homosexual? Or the neighbors down the street who adhere to the Muslim faith? Or the immigrant family running the corner store? The first step is to speak up. It may not be comfortable, especially if you are in the minority. You know your family, you know your group of friends, you know the opinions that might be voiced, especially in this crazy election year. You can prepare ahead. Think about how you will be an agent for reconciliation instead of a contributor to further division?

Our denomination is working on reconciliation this week at the General Assembly meeting in Portland, OR. (Which, by the way, James and Laurice Parks were unfortunately unable to attend due to illness.) One vote will center around being ambassadors for Christ in relationship with our Native American brothers and sisters. Maybe you did not know that there are 95 Native American Presbyterian congregations in our denomination. If the request to the General Assembly coming from Baltimore is approved this week, each of those congregations will get a letter of apology from the Presbyterian Church USA. That is, an apology for past actions coupled with a desire to be reconciled to one another going forward.

Our denomination was part of great pain and suffering of Native American children and their families through the Indian Boarding School program which began in the late 1800’s. Quoting from the General Assembly document addressed to the Native American congregations: “In our zeal to tell you of the good news of Jesus Christ, our hearts and minds were closed to the value of your spirituality. We did not understand the full extent of the Gospel of Christ! We should have affirmed the commonality between your spirituality and our understanding that God’s sovereignty extends with length from East to West, with breadth from North to South, with depth throughout the Earth, and with height throughout the Sky and Heavens.

Even worse, we arrogantly thought that Western European culture and cultural expressions were necessary parts of the Gospel of Christ. We imposed our civilization as a condition for your accepting the Gospel. We tried to make you be like us and, in so doing, we helped to diminish the Sacred Vision that made you who you are. Thus, we demonstrated that we did not fully understand the Gospel we were trying to preach.

We know that apology is only a first step in the larger hope of repentance and reconciliation. We seek the guidance of relationships with your people within and beyond our church as we seek to identify and act on restorative practices and policies at the relational, communal, and national level.”

We know that arrogance and power and selfishness and greed have repeatedly created uneven footing between people, groups, and communities around the world and right here at home. Some simple steps toward equal footing are: acknowledging the sin which separates, seeking forgiveness, listening to the stories of the other, and creating a path forward together. None of this is easy.

We are dealing with unequal footing in many arenas. Children in Sandtown and children in Ten Hills have very different starting points, different sets of resources, different kinds of outlook on the world, etc. Majority black congregations in our Presbytery do not feel treated equally as majority white congregations. Small rural congregations in our Presbytery do not feel treated equally as congregations located in and around Baltimore. One step forward for our Presbytery is the calling of an African American woman as the next general presbyter. Jackie Taylor comes to us from New Castle Presbytery in Delaware. She will begin her work here in August or September. Hooray!

One step forward for us all is to have our eyes open to words we can use, actions we can take to be agents of reconciliation on any level, to be ambassadors for Christ in all places. May it be so.

2 Corinthians 4:16-5:10 What do you see? 6/12/16

Some of you may not know Almeda Lewis. She and her family were the first black family to move into her block of Rokeby Rd. back here behind the church in 1968. She became a member of Hunting Ridge in 1999. She was an ordained ruling elder. But in my 5 years here, she has not once set foot in this building due to her failing health. Our only contact with her has been through calls or visits to her. Almeda Lewis had a birthday one week before she died. She was 94. For the past several years she has basically been living in a bed. In a bed in a room in a care facility. In a bed because her body was wasting away. Already thin, she got thinner and thinner and weaker and weaker. The outer nature, the physical body, the “tent” she was living in for 94 years, was coming to the end of its usefulness. Her family knew it. She knew it. In recent weeks, she and they knew it was soon time to move into the house built by God. She would be moving into the permanent house that cannot be seen from here.

As we talked together this week, Almeda and I wondered about what that house might look like. She was sure it would be big. I was sure it would be comfortable. We both agreed there would be a lot of music going on. And that we will be welcomed with open arms. Living in God’s house will clearly be different from living in a tent. Like those clay pots we talked about last week, tents are temporary. The apostle Paul offers encouragement to his peeps in Corinth, telling them not to lose heart, to be confident. To be confident that there is a lot more to life than what meets the eye. To be confident that there is a house not built by human hands which is always ready for move-in day. There is a song by Audio Adrenaline in our summertime Faith Place on Friday curriculum called Big House, imagining what this house not made with human hands might be like. Maybe you know it. Here is part of it: Come and go with me to my Father’s house. It’s a big big house With lots and lots a room A big big table With lots and lots of food A big big yard Where we can play football A big big house It’s my Father’s house.

A big house means lots of room. And its a big house you don’t have to worry about cleaning or furnishing or maintaining. It’s a big house filled with people you have never met who are family you’ve always known. A big house where you fit right in. Be confident, says Paul. Whatever you are struggling with while you are housed in this body—this tent—is not going to last forever. What you see is not what you get. There is so much more to life than what you can see.

This week I had the opportunity to speak with the woman who leads the African dance ensemble which performed at the Strawberry Festival last week, Jewel Wilson. She raved about the event, the diversity of the crowd, and the joy of being a part of it. Then she said—there was a lot more going on that you could not see. She meant that perceptions were being challenged and barriers were being cracked. People from different neighborhoods laughed, jump-roped, and danced together. There was the universal attraction to the drums which she was used to seeing, I am sure. But then there was the black woman showing the white teens how she jumps rope. There was the older white guy working the grill next to the young black guy. There were brown and black and white hands serving side by side as you collected your hamburger and chips. If you were a kid living in an all black or an all white neighborhood, you saw something very different on our front lawn than what you see every day when you walk out your door. You really got a picture of life in God’s big, big house on God’s big, big lawn. There was a lot more going on than we could see.

Paul wants his readers to be reminded that this is not all there is. When we look around at the level of violence, the amount of trash on the streets, the drug deals that happen boldly in front of our eyes, police officers being tried for murder, and the number of people needing food from 40 West, (which, by the way, is in great need of food for the pantry shelves—make a mental note to bring canned or dry goods with you to church next Sunday)—when we see all that is going on around us physically, we can get depressed or angry or both. Angry is better, because then there is more chance we will do something about it. When we simply look at the world around us and see it as a lost cause, we are letting the visible control the invisible. What can be seen is temporary. It is what cannot be seen that is lasting. Paul says, we walk by faith, not by sight. That means we don’t let what we see limit our forward direction. God works in ways you can not see. God works on renewing the inner nature, the part unseen.

Let me offer a couple of examples. God has done something to the Hernan family to make them work their summer schedule around taking a return trip to serve at the Lakota Reservation in Minnesota later this summer. That includes lots of meetings, trainings and even reading a book to learn more about native American culture. God has done something to those adults who have agreed to teach this summer in our Faith Place on Fridays experiment, creating a willingness to give up Friday nights, to prepare for a lesson, and to better get to know a teaching partner. At first glance, you might think a crowd of 30 kids is just a noisy crowd. But 30 kids saw on Friday night that adults care about them, that the church is a comfortable place to play and learn and use their creative abilities.

Perhaps walking by faith means staying attuned to what is going on under the surface, recognizing that there is always a lot more going on than what you can see on the outside. Walking by faith involves a level of trust in God and God’s hand at work all around you. It is possible to breeze through life and not notice God’s hand. It is possible to think that what you see is what you get, and nothing more. I choose to walk by faith, to not only trust what I can see, but trust the One who helps me to see different possibilities, different outcomes, different gifts at work. What do you see? Amen.