A SERMON FROM ST. JAMES EPISCOPAL CHURCH,
Greenville, South Carolina
5TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST
Isaiah 66:10-16; Ps 66:1-8
Gal. 6:14-18; Luke 10:1-12, 16-20
Texts of today's lessons
|
One day while in seminary, during my summer Clinical Pastoral Education program, I had lunch with a rabbi I knew. He worked as one of the full-time chaplains in the large, suburban Chicago hospital where I spent twelve weeks learning how to be a pastor to people in the hospital and their families. We ate in the hospital cafeteria. At one point in our conversation, I asked the rabbi to please excuse my ignorance, but also please explain to me in simple terms the significance of keeping kosher dietary practices. His response floored me. He said, "Timothy, if you had to think about every bite of food you put in your mouth because God asked you to think about it, would God have your attention?" Well, yeah, I said. "Well, for us to keep kosher, we have to think very carefully about what we eat, and by this God has our attention at very important times of the day-meal times. Then, hopefully, that attention carries over into the other parts of our day, where we then consider how God would want us to act and behave toward others." I remember looking down at my food as if I didn't even recognize it, because in fact, I didn't. My food didn't look the same to me as it did prior to that comment. I don't remember what I had to eat for lunch that day with my rabbi friend, but, as you can see, it is a lunch I have never forgotten, and a lunch that has made me think. How does God get our daily attention? And once God has our attention, for how long does it last? More importantly, how does our paying attention to God play out in the individual worlds about us? I have a friend, a minister friend here in Greenville, who upon greeting anyone for the first time in a given day, says, "peace be with you" either before saying anything else, or within the first sentence he speaks to you-everyday; usually, without fail. The first thing out of his mouth: "Peace be with you." The first time he did it to me, it really surprised me. How nice, I thought, he's taking the old biblical injunction to heart- "Whatever house you enter, first say, 'Peace be to this house.'" And then, being the thinking and far too often judgmental person that I am, I remember thinking "how cute" that he did it every time we talked, and wasn't he taking this thing a little bit too far? Whenever we would go out for coffee and conversation, he did it with everyone-strangers, servers, friends, everyone as far as I could tell. "Peace be with you." And then one day it occurred to me-the rabbi's words, only slightly altered: Timothy, If every time you opened your mouth to anyone you met, you first had to say, "Peace be with you," would God have your attention? And would you then be careful about everything else that came out of your mouth in conversation with that person from that point on? Let me assure you, my clergy friend has no religious pretensions in doing this, he does not do it to be "holier than thou," or more pious than the rest of us-he has simply found a profoundly useful way of focusing his attention on God and his neighbor, by the very speech that comes forth from his mouth, beginning with Jesus' direction that we share his peace with others, first and foremost. In this morning's reading from Luke, Jesus sends out the seventy "like lambs into the midst of wolves." The world can be a threatening, harsh place, ruled by a "survival of the fittest" mentality. In that system, lambs do not stand a chance-in fact, they become a delicacy. To survive, it's either better to become a wolf and fight for yourself, or not leave the safety of the sheepfold, to not go out into the world at all. But Jesus does not see it that way. Jesus calls us as laborers, to enter a field ripe and ready to be harvested. When we carry into the world, first and foremost, the peace of Christ, we resist the temptation to become as wolves, selfish and snarling, trusting in our own abilities and strength. Bearing the peace of Christ is also enough to protect us from the wolves, for in doing so we carry with us the nearness of the Kingdom of God itself. This is the task that Jesus in Luke's Gospel calls us to do: to carry out into the world, a world torn by violence, selfishness, and dissension, the peace of Christ-to be Christ's healing presence and word of peace in a world desperately in need of peace and healing. Notice, too, that we needn't worry if anyone accepts the peace we offer or not-we just need to faithfully speak Christ's peace to the world. Like having awareness of every bite of food that we take, we need to pay careful attention to how we are speaking Christ's peace to world-which is our daily task and mission. If people do not accept that peace, Jesus says that is their problem-we have been mindful, and faithful to our calling. Whoever rejects our word of peace does not reject us, but the One who sends us; and whoever rejects the One who sends us, rejects the One who sent him. So we do not lose heart. Christ asks us to share God's peace to our neighbor, not to own responsibility for the outcome of it. Notice how jubilant the seventy disciples were upon their return; sharing the peace of Christ brings joy to those who make it their habit of daily living. Because of their own experience of Christ's peace, the disciples could then share it freely to others who desperately needed it. For us to partake in the mission of sharing Christ's peace, we must first live as a person of Christ's peace. That begins with the recognition that, in Christ, God has redeemed us-that God has written our names in heaven. It begins with the realization that, in Christ, God has set us free from our wolf-like selfish ways, and has given us a new heart and mind-the heart and mind of Christ, that we might share the peace of Christ in our world: The world where each one of us lives, and works, and plays, and interacts with others. It is to this world, our very life, that we must speak Christ's peace. What does it mean when we say to each other, "Peace be with you?" Does God really have our attention when we do it? Do we see it as bringing Christ's peace and healing to the world? If not, perhaps we should see it that way. I think sometimes we Episcopalians get terrified of sharing the Good News of Jesus with others because we think that we have to do it like all other Christian denominations or traditions. Actually, what Jesus asks us to do makes the process as easy and simple as possible. It begins by asking oneself, "What can I do to bring God's peace and healing to this situation?" whatever the situation may be. I think it's a lot easier to answer that question than to try to memorize and learn what amounts to a sales pitch, with a dramatic closing sentence for final emphasis. Jesus doesn't ask us to do that-he asks us simply to share his peace with others, and in so doing, to remind them that "The kingdom of God has come near to you." Almost any one of us can do that; any one of us can ask ourselves, "How can I be the peace of Jesus in my home, in my school, in my work, on my team, in my relationships?" and come up with answers. Any one of us can prayerfully ponder, How can I bring the healing of Jesus to this situation I'm facing or in which I'm involved? and find a way to go, something to do, some word to say. When we consider these questions, God then has our attention, and hopefully we begin to act in ways that Jesus asks us to do-speaking Christ's peace, bringing God's healing, and making the Kingdom of God known to ourselves and to others. That's really all that Jesus is asking us to do- "share my peace with others, and be a healing presence in a world in need of healing and peace." Soon, with practice and with God's help, sharing God's peace and healing will become like second-nature, will become habitual, like eating a meal or saying hello to a neighbor. And the phrase "peace be with you" will mean far much more to us than a casual greeting said only among friends at church.
The Rev'd Timothy M. Dombek
|