Not Yet Perfect

Yesterday, October 27, was Reformation-Reconciliation Sunday. This Sunday is celebrated in some faith traditions on the Sunday closest to October 31. (Read the sermon to find out why.) In honor of that day, I preached this sermon. If you choose to read it, ask yourself: Are you ready to pray for Christian unity; or do you like things the way they are now?

I don’t know if any of the parables ever received a grade from a speech teacher. If they did, I’m sure that most of them would receive a high grade. After all, they are concise, memorable, and filled with vivid images. Most of us know them by heart, surely a reflection of how well they are constructed. But this one… I’m not so sure about this one. (I’m referring to Luke 18:1-8.) I’m afraid that if my preaching professor from seminary ever gave it a grade, it would receive an “F”. I say that because it breaks one of the major rules of preaching: “Never use a negative example to make a positive point.” This parable does just that.

The main character in the parable is a villain: a judge who cares nothing for anyone but himself. His only concern is his own power and prestige. So when a poor widow comes before him, he has no reason to find in her favor. She can’t give him a bribe; and showing her justice won’t do anything for him politically. So he shuffles her case into the box labeled “when I get around to it.” But that widow isn’t as powerless as she looks. She has a couple of tricks up her sleeve! She badgers that judge until he cringes at the very sight of her. She’s sitting on his doorstep when he leaves for his office in the morning, and she stands on the steps of the courthouse in the afternoon with a sign saying, “No justice here!” She posts about his lack of compassion on his Facebook page, and sends scathing replies to his Twitter account tweets. When he goes for a haircut, guess who is sitting in the waiting area ready to give him a piece of her mind while he is trapped in the barber’s chair! That widow pesters that judge every which way but loose! In the end, that judge is so sick of her that he finds in her favor just to get rid of her.

It’s a great parable! But the problem is Jesus compares this judge to God. And it’s a negative comparison. “See this judge?” Jesus says. “God isn’t like him. Now, if even a bad judge like this one gives a poor widow what she wants because she badgers him to death, don’t you think that God will give you what you ask for if you keep praying?” If I had ever tried to preach a sermon in seminary using a comparison like this, I’m quite sure that my preaching professor would have had a stroke! But you have to admit, it’s an effective strategy. We look at the judge and think, “Thank heavens that God isn’t like that! We don’t have to badger God night and day to make our needs known. God already knows what we need. We have faith that he will answer our prayers with mercy and wisdom.” And that’s a good response! I hope that every Christian can say that. But the trouble is that a response like that can lead us to be complacent in our prayers, and not pray enough. Luke tells us that Jesus told this parable to encourage his followers to pray more, not less. Even though God is not at all like this unjust judge, God still wants us to keep praying day and night. What did Paul say? “Pray constantly!” That’s the take-home message of this parable.

Now, I hardly need to encourage you folks to pray. This congregation is full of “prayer warriors” who are ready to pray for anyone who needs it at a moment’s notice. We have an active prayer chain at Nashville who does just that! But maybe what we pray for could stand some examination. We pray for people all the time. We pray for ourselves; we pray for people we love; we pray for friends, and we pray for friends of friends. But how often do we pray for the church? I mean the wider church, not just our own congregation. Do we pray for the church of Jesus Christ around the world; or do we just pray for ourselves? Today is an especially appropriate day to ask that question, since today is Reformation-Reconciliation Sunday, a day that highlights the Christian church in all its forms and denominations. Today is a day that both celebrates the particular heritage of Protestants, and also mourns the differences that keep us apart both from our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters and from each other. Today is a day that lifts up the prayer that is inscribed on the UCC seal: “That they may all be one.” We’re a long, long way from the fulfillment of that prayer, aren’t we?

Before I talk about Reformation-Reconciliation Sunday, let me remind you how the Protestant Reformation began. The Reformation was started by Roman Catholic monk Martin Luther. He objected to church practices that he considered to be both unbiblical and done solely for financial gain. And so, on October 31, 1517, Luther nailed a list of his objections to the church door in Wittenburg, Germany. Luther only wanted to debate his criticisms with church officials. But his criticism hit the church in the collection plate; and instead of debating Luther, church officials threw him out of the church. Luther and his followers became known as “Protestants” because they “protested” the actions of the Pope. They “reformed” their church to avoid the excesses of the Roman Catholic Church of their time. Reformation Sunday as we know it today was begun way back in the 1700s in Europe to celebrate the men and women who reformed – and who continue to reform – the church of Jesus Christ when it strays too far away from the gospel. In fact, the motto of the Presbyterian Church is “Reformed and always reforming.” That motto reminds us that reformation didn’t just happen 500 years ago; it is an ongoing process.

Now, reformation is a very good thing. But the Reformation led to incredible conflict between Roman Catholics and Protestants. Believers on both sides of the fence were beheaded, drowned, or burned at the stake because of their religious beliefs. (Some churches change their altar paraments to red on this Sunday to signify both the Spirit who guides our efforts to reform, and the martyrs who died in those efforts.) We may not be burning people at the stake these days, but the gulf between Protestant and Roman Catholic is as wide as ever. In fact, many Protestant denominations have split apart themselves over different beliefs, and over how Christians should live based on those beliefs. We not only don’t worship together; in many cases, we can’t even work together for the good of the Kingdom of God. There’s something seriously wrong with this picture! And so, about 10 years ago, Reformation Sunday was renamed Reformation-Reconciliation Sunday. On the last Sunday in October, the Sunday closest to October 31, we give thanks for reformers in all ages who remind the church that following Jesus Christ is our first priority. But we also work for reconciliation among Christians whose faith practices may be different, but whose faith is based solely on the gospel of Jesus Christ.

 And that brings us back to prayer. What might happen if we prayed as hard for the health of the church as we do for our own personal health and for the health of our friends and loved ones? After all, Jesus tells us to pray constantly for what we really want. What could happen if we prayed constantly for the unity of the Church of Jesus Christ? Obviously, our prayers might cause some people in other denominations to soften up a little bit. Some of those Christians who think we UCCers are hopelessly liberal might reconsider that opinion. They might even listen to our point of view! But equally important, our prayers might change us. We might become a little more open to working with other churches on projects that are too big for us to do by ourselves. We might consider joining with a Methodist church – or even a Roman Catholic church – to work on a soup kitchen or a clothing bank. And we might even start to listen to them! So, if we decide to pray for Christian unity, we need to be serious about it. We can’t pray for unity if we secretly think that things are just fine the way they are right now. After all, if we were reunited with our brothers and sisters in Christ who are in other denominations right now, we might end up changing a few things – and that can be really frightening! After all, no denomination is perfect – not even our own beloved United Church of Christ. And maybe that’s the most important effect that prayers for Christian unity might have on all of us. As we pray, God might grace us with a little humility. We might realize that our way of doing things isn’t the only way, or even the right way – it’s just one way. There are lots ways to follow Jesus faithfully. UCCs, Presbyterians, Mennonites, Eastern Orthodox, and Roman Catholics are all faithful followers of the Lord. We all just follow a little bit differently. But not one of us is perfect.

So maybe a few prayers are in order. They might go something like this. “Lord, open my eyes so that I can see that others in your Kingdom love the Lord Jesus, too. Open my ears so that I can listen to whatever they have to say to me. Open my mouth with loving words for Christians who are different than I am in their beliefs or in their practices. Open my arms so that I can embrace them, whoever and wherever they may be. Bring down the barriers that divide us. Reform your church again as you reconcile us to one another. Amen.”

 

A Place at the Table

This past Sunday was Worldwide Communion, one of my favorite Sundays. During worship on that day, I use liturgies and hymns from around the world. My sermon on that day always emphasizes our oneness in Christ; and this one is no exception. God brings us together, but we always seem to find a way to exclude ourselves (and others) from the table.

I wish – sincerely wish – that Luke had not chosen to end this parable (Luke 14:15-24) on the note that he did. It ends on a note of exclusion, with a dinner party host declaring, “Not one of the guests who were invited will get even a taste of my banquet.” Is this what Jesus had in mind when he told this parable originally? Did he intend to warn his listeners that God will exclude some people from his Kingdom; so they had better behave themselves? I’m not so sure!

I say that because the parable – without the final line – isn’t about exclusion at all. it is, in fact, a parable of radical inclusion! The owner of a house has prepared a lavish banquet for many guests. Everything is ready. The roast beef is cooked to perfection; the lemon meringue pies are just the right combination of tart and sweet; the coffee is steaming in the carafe; and the table is resplendent with fine china and linen napkins. But when the time comes, all the guests have better things to do. One has to check out a field that he has just bought; another has to inspect a new yoke of oxen; while a third would rather spend time with his new wife than accept the honor of a dinner invitation. And so, that host commands his slaves to go out and invite all kinds of people who have no social standing at all – the poor, the blind, and the lame – so that the dinner isn’t wasted. That kind of inclusion is rarely seen, in Jesus’ day or in ours. If anyone was excluded from that marvelous banquet, it wasn’t because the host didn’t want them. It was because they excluded themselves.

We aren’t good at radical inclusion. We, like Luke, are all too willing to exclude people, especially from the Lord’s Table. We all know that some denominations officially exclude Christians from the Lord’s Table who are not members of that particular denomination. Some Christians even exclude members of their own denomination who do not believe or behave exactly as they do. There are many reasons given for this kind of exclusion.  Although they may appear to be logical, they ring hollow when we consider Jesus’ prayer in the gospel of John that asks God to unite all of us as one body. I do not believe that excluding anyone from the table is part of Jesus’ plan for humanity!

So each year on the first Sunday in October – Worldwide Communion Sunday – we all sit down together as a reminder not of how many people are excluded from Christ’s table, but how many people are included. Worldwide Communion Sunday was begun by our Presbyterian cousins almost 80 years ago, way back in the 1930s. It was originally a call to celebrate our oneness in Christ by gathering together around the banquet table that he has prepared for all of us. In the middle of a world of exclusion, it was intended to be a demonstration of God’s inclusion. Just as the banquet host invited the lame, the blind, and the poor, God calls people from around the world to join him at his feast. My goodness – he even calls us!

Worldwide Communion is a reminder that in Christ, there is truly neither Jew nor Greek, neither rich nor poor, neither male nor female. Most of us tend to think of white, middle-class Americans when we think of a “Christian.” But many – in fact, most – Christians are not white Americans. These days, most Christians globally are Hispanic or Asian! The Christian church is growing the most rapidly in the Far East. No, there are not as many Asian Christians as there are European and American Christians. But our churches are in a decline, and have been for decades. Asian churches, on the other hand, are booming – and booming in many areas where Christianity is officially illegal. We middle-class Americans are not the only ones who sit at the Table of Christ. In fact, sometimes the people who are the least like us show the love of Christ in ways that are more powerful than any sermon ever preached from a pulpit. John Buchanan, editor of the periodical The Christian Century and former pastor of Third Presbyterian Church in downtown Chicago, has recently written about an encounter like that. These are his own words from The Christian Century (October 2, 2013, p. 3).

“He was an infantryman in the British army in World War II and ended up in a prisoner-of-war camp in Poland. The conditions were dreadful. There was no heat, and prisoners were given a single bowl of thin soup and a small crust of bread daily. Men were starving, sick, filthy and desperate. Suicide was a very real option. All one had to do was run towards the perimeter of the camp and leap against the barbed wire fence. Guards would immediately shoot and kill anyone trying to escape. In the middle of the night he walked to the perimeter and sat down beside the fence to think about going through with it. He heard movement in the darkness from the other side of the fence. It was a Polish farmer. The man thrust his hand through the barbed wire and handed my friend half of a potato. In heavily accented English he said, ‘The Body of Christ.’”

Sharing the love of Christ has been described as one blind, starving beggar telling another blind, starving beggar where to find food. We are all poor, blind, and lame; and Christ welcomes us to his table. Oh, our differences continue to divide us. We are, after all, not only American, but also Arabian, Chinese, Afghani, French, Kenyan, and Colombian. We do not all practice one kind of Christianity. We are Pentecostal, Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Egyptian Coptic, Wesleyan, Anglican, Amish, and United Church of Christ. But we are all invited to the Table by the Christ who loves us and gave himself up for us so that all of us might be one in him.

So, today, let none be excluded. Today, in the name of Christ, let this table be open to all who wish to sit around it and feast. And let us be grateful that God, our host, has invited us all.