Sermon
June 5, 2011
Lynne Coates
In the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen
There was a rabbi who was having a heated dispute with his congregation; they couldn't agree on anything. The president of the congregation said, "Rabbi, this can't continue. There has to be a conference, and we have to settle this once and for all." The rabbi agreed.
At the appointed time the rabbi, the president of the congregation, and ten elders met in the conference room of the synagogue. After much heated discussion, it became more and more apparent that the rabbi was a lonely voice in the wilderness. The president of the synagogue said, "Come, Rabbi, enough of this. Let's vote and allow the majority to rule." He passed out slips of paper; the votes were collected, and the president said, "You may examine them, Rabbi. It is eleven to one against you. Eleven to one. We have the majority."
Offended, the rabbi rose to his feet and said, "So, now you think because of the vote that you're right and I'm wrong. Well, that's not so. I stand here and call upon the Holy One of Israel to give us a sign that I'm right and you're wrong."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth when there was a deafening clap of thunder and a brilliant flash of lightning that struck the conference table and cracked it in two. The room was filled with smoke and fumes, and the president and the elders were hurled to the floor. The rabbi stood untouched, his eyes and smile flashing with triumph. Slowly, the president lifted himself out of the rubble. His hair was singed, his glasses were hanging from one ear, his clothing was in disarray. Finally he said, "All right, all right! Eleven to two. But we still have the majority."
We know that at times there has been discord and disunity in the Church. This disunity is apparent in the numbers of denominations that we have.
In the 16th century, the “protesters” became the Protestants and they split from the Roman Catholics. But once the squabble started, it snowballed. It wasn't long before the Protestants began disagreeing with each other and different protestant faiths are the result. But then, I believe that God wants us to stand back and look at what we’ve done and understand that we are one. We are all called to love God and love others, no matter what faith we are. These are the two greatest commandments.
Bishop Jack Spong says that what distinguished Jesus from us is that he was able to become fully human. Now, we may not think so much of our “humanness.” But what I think it means to be fully human is to be truly what God calls us to be. We do have our moments. We can in those moments be like Jesus. When we deny our own comfort and reach out to another, we are being like Jesus. We are being fully human.
Jesus said in the today’s gospel: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth.” Jesus was giving the disciples his legacy, his call, his own discipleship. He left them with everything they needed to continue his work in the world. The result of that work is of course our church with all its Catholics, Protestants and others who struggle to love God and love others.
There will always be that which separates Christians from Christians and denomination from denomination. Loving God and others is not determined by whether we agree with each other about every interpretation of scripture or doctrine or form of church government. Our unity is determined by whether we love one another, and whether we reflect the love of God in Christ for the world, as we were charged to do at the Ascension. And this is Ascension Sunday.
Shortly after the end of the Civil War, in a fashionable Richmond church, during Communion a black man walked down the aisle. A tense silence gripped everyone. No one got up to go receive the bread and wine, although many had not yet received Communion. The black man started to kneel alone.
Quietly, a tall, graying man with a military bearing came up to receive Communion. Together, they knelt. People realized that the person kneeling beside the black man without showing any distinction was General Robert E. Lee. Although Lee said nothing, everyone knew he had shown his faith through the act of joining that lonely black worshiper at the altar. Certainly no big deal today. 150 years ago, it was a very big deal.
What if a bedraggled and dirty homeless person struggled up to receive Eucharist in this church. Would we go up and kneel beside that person? The way we kneel beside each other and beside our children? I like to think all of us would. Or do we cast ourselves as judges of others?
I confess that when I was young I struggled with tendency to judge others at times as if I were somehow given the wisdom to find fault and to inform someone else that I had all the answers if he or she would just listen to me. Right? And God must love me more because I was possessed of this wisdom. What I have learned and continue to learn is that God loves all of us equally, no one person more or less. If this is what God does, then this is what I must do. What we must do. I remind myself that the job of God is taken and not by me. I pray that I am not ultimately defined by that long-ago behavior.
In the epistle appointed for today from 1Peter, we hear: “Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.” That passage frightened me greatly when I was little. I figured that my sins were so great that roaring lion would surely have me for lunch. What I see about this passage today is that whatever passes for the devil is that which I must cast off about myself in order to become the disciple Jesus needs in the world. The passage further reads: “…the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen and establish you.”
In my research for this sermon, I ran across a story about a Roman Catholic deacon who had lost his way, and his work at church had been failing for some time. He had been negative and judgmental toward others. He was asked by his priest to drive some young people to a nursing home to sing. He agreed reluctantly. As he stood in the back of the room and waited for them to finish, he looked down, and there was an old man in a wheelchair. The old man reached up and held his hand all during the program. The next month it was the same. The man in the wheelchair came during the singing and held the hand of the deacon. It happened the next month, and the next month, and the month after that, and the month after that.
Then one Sunday the old man wasn't there. The deacon asked a nurse about him and was told, "Oh, he's down the hall in his room. He's dying, you know, but if you want to go down and pray over him, I guess that would be all right."
So, the deacon found the old man, seemingly unconscious, took his hand and prayed that God would receive him, that God would ease his passage from this life into the next and give him eternal healing.
As soon as he finished the prayer, the old man squeezed the deacon's hand and the deacon knew that he'd been heard. He was so moved by this that it brought him to tears. He stumbled out of the room and bumped into a woman. She said, "My father’s been waiting for you.”
The deacon was amazed at this. He said, "What do you mean?"
The woman said, "Well, my father would say that once a month Jesus came to this place. He would take my hand for a whole hour. I don't want to die until I have the chance to hold the hand of Jesus one more time.”
This story tells me that we can all be the face and the heart and the hands of Jesus for someone else. We can take Jesus’ charge to his disciples at the time of his Ascension and begin to live into it. These moments, opportunities to serve, can take us by surprise sometimes. I pray every day for God to send me opportunities to serve. But I am not always as vigilant as I could be. And I’m sure I miss some of those opportunities. But I still pray.
Those who were present at the Ascension, we imagine, made their way back to where they were staying. With the family of Jesus and a number of women and others they engaged in community-building. They spent time in prayer as they sought to be about the continuation of the work of Jesus. They became the Church. Our Church. Humble, small, tentative beginnings. Now the Christian Church is the largest religious group in the world. How amazing is that!
Now through the Ascension we see Jesus set free from limitations so that his story might continue through the likes of you and me as we are given help and support by the Holy Spirit.
"You shall be my witnesses, in Jerusalem, and in Judea
and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
A priest once asked his Sunday school pupils how they could tell when the night had ended and the day had begun. "Could it be," asked one student, "when you can see an animal in the distance and tell whether it's a sheep or a dog?"
"No," answered the priest. That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”
Another asked, "Is it when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it's a fig tree or a peach tree?"
"No," answered the priest. “It’s still not the answer I want. "Then when is it?" the pupils demanded.
"It is when you can look on the face of any person and see the face of Jesus. Because if you cannot see this, it is still night."
Amen
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