Proper 11 B + No longer strangers + 7.18.21
M. Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
(2 Samuel 7:1–14ª; Psalm 89:20–37; Ephesians 2:11–22; St Mark 6:30–34, 53–56)
“… You are
no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also
members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and
prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. … in whom you also are
built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.”
I still remember the first Latino ministry conference I
attended. We started in the morning and went until 9pm at night, sometimes
later! I was amazed! I was trying to figure out when people rested. I was used
to conferences with substantial breaks to go change or decompress in the room.
Now, one cannot say that all Latinos are extroverted or that the various Latino
cultures are the same. But watching “In the Heights” the other day reminded me
that, in general, many Latino cultures are much more social by nature than my
Euro-American culture of origin. I learned so much from hanging out at these
conferences. In order to wake up more when dealing with jet lag, we didn’t have
long coffee breaks or take naps, we sang! And did other social activities and
crafts. And I loved it. I knew my call was to do something with Latino Ministry
as a part of my ministry and have not looked back.
I think this is in part because I have experienced genuine connection and care
in Latino and multicultural, immigrant and otherwise diverse congregations such
as ours and that connection feeds me. Reminds me that we are all part of the
body of Christ. That we are the dwelling place of the holy.
And yet our culture is sick. It has a disease. And it is
loneliness. In an article in the LA Times
the other day, I read that one in five US millennials say they have no friends.
That older adults in Japan are committing crimes to be held in jail and to
avoid social isolation. Three in Five British adults 18-34 feel lonely often or
sometimes.[1]
All of this is happening at a time when many people don’t belong to churches or
other houses of worship that they regularly attend. Libraries have been closed
much of the last year, and we are only now beginning to feel safe frequenting
coffee houses or restaurants, and then only if we are vaccinated or many around
us are.
In the gospel for today, two things strike me. One is that
Jesus strives to take the disciples to a deserted place and rest, but that rest
gets waylaid in the process of Jesus’ meeting the deep need of the people to be
taught and healed. In a poignant moment, Jesus doesn’t get his rest here (we
hope he does later) but he becomes the rest for others. He is the calm center
of the storm.
Another moment in this gospel that touches my heart is when
it is noted that Jesus heals the people because they are like sheep without a
shepherd. In that time, many of the religious leaders were not caring for the
last and the least. And Herod was a fox, stealing from the chicken coop, not a
caring shepherd of the sheep. The people are refreshed simply by being in
Jesus’ presence (not to mention fed in the feeding that is encompassed by
today’s ellipses). Today, so many people feel like sheep without a shepherd.
They wander around and search for meaning. Sometimes authority has become so
challenged in their world that they do not recognize truth when they see it.
Sometimes the truth that the church proclaims is so tarnished with the sins of
our past that it is hard to see.
And yet, Jesus is here. In our midst, a, still and quiet
place of calm, if we could approach him. He is here at the altar, in the word
and the sacrament that we share. But he is also here in all of us. Because when we draw together in community,
when we attend physically or online in a participatory way, by commenting or
sending in support or staying in touch in some other way, we are building up
the body. Now this isn’t all so that the church will survive. Jesus is way
stronger than we think. The church, the bride of Christ, has survived two
thousand years and may well outlive our children’s children’s children. But
this is so that we will survive. So that
we can support each other. Because we literally cannot live well without each
other. Even hermits need occasional social visits. In the trials of our lives, we can pray
together. In the joys, we can rejoice together. Those that have families can
celebrate as a family with us and know that they belong in their family and in
the family of God. Those without family nearby can know that they belong in
this community and in the dwelling place for God that we build together.
This is built up every time we send a card or a message on WhatsApp of support.
This is strengthened every time we encourage each other, laugh together, razz
each other or just share interesting information at coffee hour. We are
building this when we share prayer in worship be it in person or via online
comment; when we gather in such a way that our presence is felt. For example,
we have a parishioner who regularly attends online but does not feel comfortable
coming in person, but she is always sending notes or calling members of the
church and sends in her offering. She is building up the family of God, too.
I wanted to take this sermon as an opportunity to encourage you all to find a
way to rest in some way this week. But in a brainstorming group, one pastor
said that if he did that his people might just want to skip church. But we need
to remember that we need the right rest. Skipping church (in person or online)
on occasion is good, but skipping out regularly is skipping out on the
opportunity to be restored in community. Of course, there are many ways to
experience “church” in different formats. We just offer one way to experience
church. But the kind of church I meant includes connection. With people, and
mutual interaction. Perhaps with physical proximity.
We need the restorative experience in community I experienced
in the Latino ministry conferences, and have experienced in many a worship
service, Bible Study and coffee hour. Because being together restores us. Perhaps
your rest this week might be resting from one task you usually do but that will
not suffer if you leave it a week and taking that time to call and connect with
someone. Or you could take a walk around your block (as you are able) or write
a note to someone saying you are praying for them. “Only connect,” it says at
the end of the book Howard’s End.
That isn’t a bad motto for the church. Whether in our worship or our outreach,
when we hand someone a bag of food and say God Bless You, only connect. And
hopefully for a moment they and you both feel seen and valued and loved as a
child of God.
Now this is not always easy. Part of being together in
community is being around people with different opinions, or styles, or
backgrounds. People who might irritate us at times, as well as people we always
love. This could mean being willing to be out of our comfort zone at times so
that we can learn and connect with others. But the church is unique in our
society in that people who think differently can connect together and genuinely
care about each other here. We can also challenge each other from time to time
in a respectful fashion, so that none of us gets locked into one way of
thinking. And we will all be the richer for it. Because the divine dwells among
us. When we are open to engaging with each other. When we push past isolation
and into the light of day.
Amen.
[1]
Noreena Hertz, “Op-Ed: We’re in the midst of a global loneliness crisis.
Here’s how we can end it,” LA Times, July 11, 2021.
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