Showing posts with label interdependence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label interdependence. Show all posts

Monday, July 17, 2017

Sermon: Even A Cup of Cold Water



A Sermon preached in Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
by The Reverend Vicki Hesse, Associate
The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost | (RCL Proper 8, Year A)
2 July 2017

Listen Here

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable to you O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen

The other day I heard a story about five people who were blind and went to “see” an elephant.[1] “What is this?” asked the first one, who had run head-first into its side. “It’s an elephant,” said the elephant’s keeper, who was sitting on a stool, cleaning the elephant’s harness. “Wow, I’ve always wondered what Elephants are like,” as they ran their hands up and down the elephant’s side. “Why, it’s just like a wall… a large, warm wall!”

“What do you mean, a wall?” said the second person, wrapping their arms around the elephant’s leg. “This is nothing like a wall. You can’t reach around a wall! This is more like a pillar. Yeah, that’s it, an elephant is exactly like a pillar!”

“A pillar? Strange kind of pillar!” said the third one, stroking the elephant’s trunk.  “It’s too thin, for one thing, and it’s too flexible for another. This is more like a snake.  See, it’s wrapping around my arm.  An elephant is just like a snake!”

“Snakes don’t have hair!” said the fourth person, pulling the elephant’s tail. “I’m surprised that you missed the hair. This isn’t a snake, it’s a rope.  Elephants are exactly like ropes.”

“I don’t know what y’all are thinking!” the fifth one cried, waving the elephant’s ear back and forth. “It’s as large as a wall, all right, but thin as a leaf, and no more flexible than any piece of cloth this size should be. I don’t know about all of you – who could mistake an elephant for anything except a sail!”

And as the elephant moved on, they found the truth, that an elephant is, well, an elephant.

Perspective, right?  Today’s short gospel text begs for such an introduction that invites perspective and context. The whole of Chapter 10 of Matthew’s gospel is about discipleship – that’s the perspective.  A few weeks ago we heard how Jesus calls and commissions the disciples.

Then Jesus gives disciples authority over unclean spirits and power to heal and minister to those who are sick. He sends them out to proclaim good news and to bring about the Kingdom of God.  He also gives them warnings of coming persecutions and trials, telling disciples whom to fear and whom to ignore.  You may recall last week’s sermon by Fr. Drew, explaining that living into the gospel message might spark division sometimes, even while Jesus seeks peace and unity.  And, here at the end of the chapter, Jesus’ promises rewards for faithfulness.

There, in the last line, comes the clincher: whoever gives “even” a cup of cold water to one of these little ones… none of these will lose their reward.  Even a cup of cold water.  In the Greek, this little word monon means only, or alone.  So: only a cup of water.  With this tiny word, Jesus emphasizes something as small as a cup of water for the Christ is of cosmic importance.

Taken in perspective, this cup of water symbolizes gospel – it’s not only what it takes to be a disciple but rather what it means to be a disciple.[2]
·         It means empowerment and struggle.
·         It means welcome and rejection.
·         It means division, persecution and the call to faithfulness.

Perspective – having it and keeping it. This is what it means to be a disciple of Jesus – both then and now.  The rewards?  It is not about how one earns the reward but how one recognizes the reward. Here, Jesus is not talking about the actions the disciples are supposed to do.  Jesus talks about those who welcome them, the ordinary little ones that Jesus has commissioned.  The ones who welcome those disciples – even just giving them a cup of cold water – those who welcome with a small gesture are now welcomed into the mission of the disciples and of Jesus. 

That means
·         just smiling at and really seeing strangers instead of ignoring them.
·         Even offering to sit with someone and to listen to their story of heart ache.
·         Even offering your own story of heartache, being mutually vulnerable, and inviting someone to listen to you.
·         Even helping with summer starters on Sunday.
·         Even pulling weeds at Buckets of Rain on a Thursday.
·         Even volunteering for one morning during Vacation Bible School.
·         Even bringing extra supplies for your kid’s teachers at the beginning of the school year.
·         Even speaking up for someone who is being bullied.

These are small gestures, yes, and in the Kingdom of God, there is no small gesture when it is done in faith.  Each act of loving kindness has a cosmic impact, affecting our hearts, those of others, and the ones who welcome them.

And even as we celebrate our nation’s Independence this week, today’s readings remind us that we live interdependently. Our gospel of grace has at its core a mutuality: with each other, with the whole of creation and with God.  This is a fundamental truth about ourselves, that we can hear “even” in this small text – in our welcome, when we receive one another, God receives us – that God upon whom we are dependent.

On the 4th of July, while we celebrate, we can remember that Jesus calls usnot to a way of independent self-sufficiency. Jesus calls us to a welcoming way of discipleship that is interdependent: for God, for our neighbors, for our enemies, for ourselves.

And that is today’s promise – we have the opportunity to be Jesus’ disciple and make a difference in the world. Every. Single. Day. And God receives us. Every. Single. Day.

Today’s good news is that we are called not to heroic discipleship, but genuine, authentic, faithful, consistent, daily discipleship.  Just, even, only discipleship. This will make a difference beyond what we see – and that is God’s perspective. 

Through Christ, *even* this will reverberate out and be used by God for the dream of God’s kingdom come. 
Amen

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Sermon: Flag and Font and Feast



Sermon for July 5, 2015
Independence Day (Observed)
The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse
St. Philip’s In The Hills, Tucson, AZ

Lord, Open our Lips,
that our mouth shall proclaim your praise.  Amen

Listen to this sermon here. 

Good morning!

The 4th of July
has always been my favorite holiday. 
During my youth,
my mother went all out with hospitality,
inviting friends and neighbors to our home
for a day of play and a special feast. 
We churned homemade ice cream,
snacked on deviled eggs
and enjoyed my mother’s special Paella dish followed by dessert of Baked Alaska Flambé. 

It was a favorite holiday because
we shared it with friends and neighbors.
It was a celebration not of independence,
but interdependence,
marking how we depended on each other
not only for the joy of the day
but the sustenance of our whole lives.
On the 4th of July,
we hold the tension of two messages:

One:
“you are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism
and marked as Christ’s own forever”[1]
and
Two:
“I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America,
and to the republic for which it stands…”[2]

On July 4th, there is a special aura
surrounding the character of “independence,”
fueling the US break up
from the authority of England
and manifesting in the American Revolution’s
permanent chasm
between the colonies and their distant rulers. 

July 4th is the day the Founding Fathers
ratified with pride, our national independence:
statehood, sovereignty and completeness.[3]

However, the Founding Fathers
did not want just to be free from foreign rule,
they also wanted a new way of
being in community.

Which is why they,
“mutually pledged to each other their lives,
their fortunes, their sacred honor.”[4] 
So it is that every 4th of July
we reflect on our dependence upon each other,
of which the readings remind us.

The letter to the Hebrews recalls
those who died in faith of God’s promises,
who, like Abraham,
set out not knowing where they were going,
but trusted in the Lord. 

Like those refugees and immigrants,
we, too, are strangers and foreigners
on the earth, seeking God’s reign,
not our own.
We are not owners of the land,
Hebrews reminds us, we are stewards. 

And as stewards, we are called
(as read in Deuteronomy):
·        to welcome the stranger with love,
·        to feed and clothe the stranger
·        to act with justice to
the weakest and most marginalized
in the community.  

In the gospel reading from Matthew,
Jesus critiques cultural independence
that was found even in his day, when he says,
“you have heard it said
“You shall love your neighbor
and hate your enemy.” 
He goes on to criticize unchecked individualism and self-reliance, rooted in mistrust.

Into this individualistic society,
Jesus said to them, and to us
LIVE with interdependence,
love your enemies, pray for hostile ones,
and
welcome, feed and clothe the stranger     and act with justice
with those on the margins.

With Jesus’ help, we can love and pray for all
with whom our lives are interwoven –
no matter how strange or weak or hostile
or pained or painful they are. 
Pray for those who persecute you, Jesus says,   
because prayer opens hearts
and weaves us together.
Because being dependent on others
can be a sign of strength. 
Because when we trust another person,
we reflect the Body of Christ:
where we need everyone –
with unique gifts and eccentricities
and quirkiness –
we need everyone in order to be complete.
       
So who in your life needs prayer and love?
Who needs restoration into
God’s interdependent community? 
Take a moment to hold that person in your heart, or as they say in 12-step program: perhaps you can become willing to become willing
to hold that person in your heart –
just for a moment.
pause

It is in the tension between
our baptism and our pledge of allegiance,
that we enter worship today. 
We enter worshiping and witnessing to the truth
that we are citizens of a community
wider than our nation.
We enter as members of the body of Christ,
Christians without borders.[5] 

In baptism, we pledge allegiance
not to any earthly power
but to the sovereign God of the universe
revealed in Jesus.
In baptism,
we join the ongoing story of salvation & freedom
that marks every day as “dependence day.” 
In baptism,
we acknowledge our reliance on God
and our dependence on community.

And God’s mark on our lives -
as one of the beloved, interwoven community -
transcends all other identities-
whether female or male or trans,
black or white or brown,
gay or straight or questioning. 
God loves us for who we are.

So while we honor “independence” day
of our nation, we also declare our
“dependence” on the triune God.

The triune God into whose name we are baptized
renews and restores
our connection to the whole created order.
The triune God into whose name we are baptized
calls us to live an interdependent life
so that we may become channels
of love, mercy and justice in the world.
The triune God into whose name we are baptized
grants us the true freedom
that we enjoy on the 4th of July
and every day.

How do we celebrate this dependence on God?

Pause – well, here’s a story.

The last scene of the film
“Places in the Heart,” shows
a small church in Texas (in 1935)
that is holding a communion service. 

While the few people in the sanctuary
are eeking out the hymn Blessed Assurance,
something unexpected happens.

As the parishioners pass the bread and wine,
more people appear in the pews –
those whose lives are woven together:
the bank president
who tried to foreclose on a young widow;
the white men
who lynched a black boy
after he mistakenly shot
the town’s beloved sheriff;
the players in the honky-tonk band
and the groupies who followed them
from dance to dance;
the African American laborer
who had helped the young widow
bring in a prizewinning crop of cotton and the Klansmen
who drove him out of town; and, finally,
the sheriff himself
and the boy who had killed him.

‘The peace of Christ,’ the sheriff says to the boy
as he shares the bread and wine.
‘The peace of Christ,’
the boy whispers in return.[6]
pause





Today, in the tension of flag and font,

God transcends the choice
with a sacrament of interdependence:
which we call “Communion” -
the bread of life and the cup of salvation.

God invites us to an eternal feast,
the Feast of Resurrection,
where in communion with all the saints,
past, present, and yet to come
we celebrate our dependence on each other.

The good news today is that
Through the font and the feast,
God’s love binds us together
for the joy of the day and
for the sustenance of our whole lives.

Amen.



[1] Book of Common Prayer, Baptism, page 308
[2] The Pledge of Allegiance, posted here.
[3] Inspired by The Rev. Nils Chittenden’s sermon, “2013 Interdependence Day” that can be found here.
[4] From the Declaration of Independence cited here on Wikipedia, excerpt of which was read aloud by a Deacon in worship.
[5] Inspired by Debra Dean Murphy’s 2011 sermon, “Flag or Font?” posted here.
[6] Inspired by Kimberly Bracken Long, The Worshiping Body: The Art of Leading Worship, page 8-9