Sermon Notes for July 11, 2010

SERMON NOTES FOR JULY 11, 2010
Cathy C. Campbell

Jesus is such a teacher – loving and very wise, even with ‘testy’ lawyers. I wonder what we can learn from him this morning? Last week we talked about moving out of the box as Jesus’ sent 35 pairs of disciples out ahead of him to proclaim the nearness of the kingdom and to cure the sick. This week we’re going to focus on what keeps us in a box – the boxes we make for ourselves or find ourselves in.

A lawyer comes to ‘test’ Jesus. In those days, in that culture, the ‘law’ was the religious law – the law given by Moses and elaborated upon since then. He comes with a question that he knows the answer to:
"what must I do to inherit eternal life?"
And so Jesus responds with a question:
"What is written in the law? What do you read there?"
And the lawyer responds with the ‘great commandment’, the “hear O Israel” which we too will recite in a minute or two. And Jesus responds:
"You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live."
And therein lies the rub. The lawyer can give the right answer. He knows the right way to live with his mind. He is a good lawyer. His problem is in the ‘doing.’ Life in its fullness is not about having the right answers. It is all about living them. The lawyer is boxed up in his mind. His spirit, his commitments, his heart, his actions are not integrated with what he knows with his mind. And so “seeking to be righteous,” to justify himself, he goes on to ask Jesus a follow-up question hoping I’m sure for a good intellectual argument about who counts as a neighbour - who is in or out of the box of our concern. What Jesus offers instead of an argument is a story. The story answers the lawyer’s question but with a deep abiding challenge for him and for us.

In the story, the religious ones, the cultural leaders, the elite who live in boxes constructed and justified by privilege, status, or duties walk by the stranger stripped, beaten and left for dead at the side of road by robbers. The Samaritan, the outsider, object himself of suspicion and disrespect is the one to stop and care - moved with compassion. And the generosity of his caring seems as limitless as the Holy; as boundless as the others’ is carefully bounded or non existent. He is “moved with compassion,” with fellow-feeling, with empathy, with practical concern to help the stranger. What causes people to pass by on the other side? What keeps folks stuck in boxes, disengaged from the suffering in the world? A more importantly, what nurtures compassion? What moves us to step outside our boxes or even live without boxes? Jesus offers the same challenge to the lawyer as to us: “go and do likewise,” act with compassionate generosity, actually engage our hearts and spirits and bodies as well as our minds. He and we know the right answer to Jesus’ question: Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” But do we act on it?

Now Christianity has been critiqued by many as creating “bleeding hearts” who are all too ready to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit prisoners, but have no interest is tackling the system that creates hunger, destitution and an exploding prison population. But the opposite problem, the lawyer’s problem of having the right answer and no inclination to act with compassion is also very real. We can analyze and debate and even write cheques to worthy causes, but many, too many will not stop [our cars, our minds, our worthy agendas] and engage, with fellow-feeling, tangibly, the suffering one in our midst. When we can pass by the suffering of others [for however many good and right reasons], suffering reigns. Indeed we are called to love with “all our hearts, souls, strength, and minds.” We are not to love with just our hearts or just our minds. Justice, system work, and compassion are one, welded together. And we need to tackle all that pulls them apart.

Elizabeth Johnson points to another contemporary face of Jesus’ challenge. She writes:
“For decades the concern of the European church leaders and theologians has focused on persons whose faith is threatened by the acid of a secular, atheistic culture [and I would add fiercely materialistic culture]. In Latin America, by contrast, the focus is not on the non-believer struggling for faith, but on the non-person struggling for life. Here the central question is not whether God exists, but how to believe in God amid such inhumane suffering.”
We [in the west, in N.America, living in relative wealth] we pass by people, indeed whole nations or cultures because they are non-people – people not deserving of our attention, or invisible to us, or not as important or good or worthy as our own agendas. I’m thinking of the Panane people of Malaysia who Wade Davis described in this last Massey lecture this year. Their culture, their whole way of life built up over thousands of years is gone because of the world’s insatiable appetite for tropical hardwoods. They are now non-people. I’m thinking of the addicted pan handlers on our streets and wonder which addiction is harder heal: a chemical one or the one that focuses our lives on personal financial security and comfort regardless of all else. Yet, I’m also thinking about all the examples of compassionate generosity I’ve seen in my life: prostitutes sharing food and their last cigarettes with each other; an elderly woman staying up all night with another so she wouldn’t die alone in a strange hospital where people only speak English; or the women and men who give their lives so that others might have water, food, health care, peace or an education. Engaged compassion opens to life, eternal life - abundant life for all. Jesus’ injunction to the lawyer: “Go and do likewise” is the path of living faith, in fact of life itself. It is Amos’ “plumb line.” Knowing God, loving God is one with, is welded to knowing and loving our neighbour.

Now St.Matthew’s has lived by this plumb line for many, many decades. We work at the marriage of contemplation and action, of faith and compassion caring, of justice and charity. As we are a place of meaningful connection for the people of our city – all the people, we open the door to faith – a living relationship with the One who is our common source, destination, and sustaining arms in the struggle. The conversion of a substantial portion of our church into affordable housing with the retention of the lower level as a neighbourhood resource centre and the creation of new smaller worship space is an extension of this ministry. We are trying to faithfully step out of our box. In a culture that has created redundant people and abandoned neighborhoods, we are endeavoring to create community. In a culture of consumption that is destroying God’s beloved creation, we are pursuing a practice of radical generosity and down-sizing. In a culture that has put the market economy at the heart of its life, we are attempting to live deeply dependent on gift and mutual cooperation. We do this because it is the path of life – our life, but life for way more than us. We do this to be faithful to Amos’ plumb line.

Paul’s prayer for the new church in Colossae is a good one for us to end on. And so we pray:
May we be filled with the knowledge of God's will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that we may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to the Lord, as we bear fruit in every good work and as we grow in the knowledge of God. May we be made strong with all the strength that comes from God’s glorious power, and may we be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to God, who has enabled us to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light