Tag: social justice

Light It Up: Changing the way we see the world to change the world

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year CLeave a comment


Inspired by Practicing Peace, Living Nonviolence: A Weekend with Rev. John Dear, March 22-25, 2025, Lynchburg, VA

Today’s lectionary gospel lesson is from Luke 13 where we read beginning with verse one:

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.

He asked them, ‘Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.

Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?

No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.’

Here, Jesus is challenging some very bad theology. It’s a bad theology that supposes that people who suffer from the violent actions or inactions of authoritarians like Pontius Pilate somehow deserve what they get. The lives lost, harmed, displaced, or deported, are never the fault of the builders of towers or of the ones who make the executive orders.

It’s a bad theology that was created to always blame the victim, and it’s been called “one of the most sinister features of the fascist character.”[i]

The poor suffer, why? Because they are too lazy to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, of course. They didn’t study hard enough in school. They’re not grinding hard enough at work. They’re not applying for enough jobs.

It’s a bad theology that views poverty as punishment for people who just don’t try hard enough, while exonerating the lawmakers, policy makers, and the oligarchs who’ve purchased those politicians to enrich themselves. It’s a bad theology that views people living in poverty as “parasites,” cursed by God for some good reason, and views the rich and the powerful, the builders of towers and the wielders of weapons, as people who are blessed by God.

Jesus emphatically speaks against this greedy and violent way of seeing the world: “No, I tell you!” And then, with a sense of urgency, Jesus challenges us to do something about it, before this dark and violent worldview is the death of us.

“No, I tell you, but unless you repent you will all perish as they did!”

But there’s a problem when some of us hear this word “repent”, as the word itself has been the victim of bad theology—perhaps with the intention to prevent us from ever fulfilling Jesus’ urgent plea to do something about the culture of greed and violence.

Maybe some of you, like me, were taught like that the word “repent” means to turn away personal sins. Raised as a Baptist, that meant to stop drinking, dancing, smoking, cussing, and having sexy thoughts.

However, when Jesus used the word “repent” to speak of our urgent need to change, he was talking about changing the way we see the world, so we can act to change the world. I believe the apostle Paul understood this when he wrote that in Christ, there is a new creation (2 Cor 5:17). When we follow Jesus, the way we see the entire creation changes. Sadly, that verse is also the victim of bad theology as it is often translated “In Christ, there is a new creature” to keep the focus on personal, individual sin and away from societal, cultural, social, and political sin.

Jesus talked more about our failure to see than he ever talked about private sins. Listen to John recount how Jesus spoke of his purpose in this world: “I came into this world…so that those who do not see may see…” (John 9:39). And throughout the gospels, Jesus continually asks: “Do you have eyes and fail to see?” (Mark 8:18) “Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye?” (Matthew 7:3) “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!” (Luke 10:23) “Prophets and kings desired to see what you see but did not see it!” (Luke 10:24)

Over and over Jesus talked about importance of seeing a world that many people have difficulty seeing.

This is why I believe Jesus called himself the light of the world. For to truly see anything, what do we need? We need light. Thus, he said: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).

I believe Jesus called himself the light of the world, because it was his life’s mission to lead us to change the way we see the world so we can change the world, to see the truth of who God has created us to be, of how God has created us to live.

And what is the truth that God wants us to see?

I believe the answer can be found in Jesus’ first recorded sermon which Rev. Dear read a few moments ago.[ii]

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Jesus wants us to see the truth that God blesses the “poor in spirit.” Not the religious, the devout, the pious, or even the spiritual. Not the pastors, the elders, the deacons, not even the church member who serves every week in a soup kitchen. No, God favors the ones who have come to be served in the soup kitchen. They are not the ones with something to give. They are the ones with nothing to give. Jesus says the ones who are blessed, the ones who are favored by God are those who, spiritually speaking, are completely destitute. Their very spirits have been broken. And notice that Jesus uses the present tense. Not will be blessed. Not might be favored. They are, right now, right here, blessed. And their future is the kingdom of heaven. Can you see it?

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

Jesus wants us to see that God favors the mourners. Not only those who may be mourning the death of someone or are grieving over the injustices of the world, but maybe especially those who are mourning over their own lives, those who are wondering if their lives have any value. They remember how their fathers and mothers, their ancestors, were valued by this world. They consider how they are valued by this world. And they look into the eyes of their children and grandchildren, and they grieve. They cry out in the streets for their lives to matter, yet Jesus calls them blessed and promises comfort. Can you see it?

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”

The meek are favored, says Jesus. Not the powerful and violent. Not the ones with the charisma or the confidence, or the physical ability, or the privilege, or an inheritance of wealth, to do whatever is necessary to overcome all sorts of adversity and make it to the top. Jesus says, blessed are the ones who never seem to get ahead. It is the last, says Jesus, not the first, who survive and inherit the earth. Can you see it?

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled.”

Not the ones who are righteous, but the ones on whose behalf the prophet Amos preached: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24). These are the ones who are unjustly judged, mistreated, shunned, scapegoated, and bullied by society, even by communities of faith. They suffer grave injustices simply because of who they are.

They have been beaten up so badly by the world that they hunger and they thirst for justice like a wanderer lost in a hot desert thirsts for water. Jesus says that they are blessed, and they are the ones who will not only be satisfied, but will be filled, their cups overflowing. Can you see it?

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”

Not the perfect and the proud, the boastful and the arrogant. Not the ones who never admit any mistake. But God favors the ones who are fully aware of their imperfections, the ones who have made mistakes, terrible mistakes, and they know it. Thus, when they encounter others who are also suffering from unthinkable errors in judgment, they have mercy, compassion, empathy, and in their hearts, there is always room for forgiveness. They give mercy, because they need mercy for themselves. And because they are favored by God, they will receive it. Can you see it?

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Not the pure, but the “pure in heart.” Not the ones whose outer appearance and abilities suggest to some that they have the best genes. No, God favors the ones who are viewed by some as flawed. We are reminded of the words of 1 Samuel “for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). God will see the pure beauty of who they truly are, and they will see God. Can you see it?

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Not the ones who have necessarily found peace for themselves. But  blessed are the tormented, the disturbed and the restless, who, because they are so continuously in chaos, seek to make peace whenever and wherever they can. Blessed are those who are without stability, the immigrant and  refugee without a home, but seek it, because they will find a home, a place of security, rest and a peace that is beyond all understanding, within the family of God.[i] Can you see it?

One way to sum up Jesus’ Beatitudes may be: “Blessed are the victims of bad theology.” God is on the side of the  ones violent authoritarians like Pilate victimize and God wants us to see that and then turn the entire culture of greed and violence upside down!

And this, Jesus pronounces, is not a prescription of how things should be or how things could be. Jesus asserts that this is how things are! Can you see it?

If not, then maybe we need some more light! Because if we can’t soon see it, says Jesus, we are all doomed to perish!

I believe this is why Jesus announces: “I have come as light, as the Light of the World, to help you see it, to give all who are blind to it, the sight to see this world as God sees it.” The way of God’s universal, inclusive unconditional love for the entire creation is the only way to never walk in darkness, to never perish, but have the light of life!

And after preaching what we call the Beatitudes, revealing who is truly blessed and favored in by God in this world, Jesus announces to those who want to follow him: You are the lights of the world!  And you must not ever hide your light, shine it privately in a sanctuary or personally at home, but shine your light courageously and publicly on the way things are, so all may begin to see the world the way God sees it.

We are to shine our lights by loving all people, but especially those who are the the victims of bad theology. We are to light it up by loving and doing justice and working to create a world that blesses the least among us: the poor, those who are crying out for their lives to matter, the weak and the underprivileged, those who need mercy, the marginalized who hunger and thirst for justice, the physically maligned but pure in heart, and the spiritually or mentally troubled who yearn for peace.

Will we be despised for it? You bet. Will people say that the way we accept and love and affirm others, the way we speak truth to power, is socially and even theologically unacceptable? Of course. Will we be demeaned and even persecuted by others, even by those in organized religion? Most certainly. Might we get arrested? If we are truly following the way of Jesus, that’s always a possibility!

But here’s the good news:

Jesus also said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you [notice the change in person] when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

So, while many people, even those who claim to be Christian today, have chosen to live in a dark, violent world, a world where they blindly believe that it is the rich, the prosperous, the privileged and the powerful that are blessed and favored by God, a world that will inevitably bring suffering to all of us, including them, let us commit ourselves to living in the world created by our gracious, loving God, in the world that Jesus, the Light of the World, came to help us see.

And let us, as lights of this world, for the sake of this world, keep lighting this world up, courageously, and publicly until the day comes when the eyes of all are finally fully opened, and there is finally peace on earth.

[i]https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victim_blaming#:~:text=Adorno%20defined%20what%20would%20be,features%20of%20the%20Fascist%20character%22.

[ii] Interpretation of the Beatitudes inspired by Frederick Buechner. Whistling in the Dark: An ABC Theologized (New York: Harper Collins, 1988), 18.

Resisting the Devil

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year CLeave a comment

Luke 4:1-13 NRSV

If you are like me, you can probably resonate with the Ash Wednesday prayer that was shared this week by Week of Compassion, our denomination’s relief, refugee, and mission agency:

Dear God, we are so weary. Honestly. Just flat worn out. Everything is so much…too much…right now, and there seems to be no end in sight. No end to the worry. No end to the tragedy. No end to the questions. No end to the confusion...

 

Can you relate? I know I can. The good news of our faith is that Jesus also can.

The season of Lent seems to have arrived at the perfect time. In the words sent in an email to encourage pastors this week by Rev. Jim Wallis, the executive director of the Center of Faith and Justice, I believe it is “not accidental, nor coincidental, that this Lenten season comes to us at this moment of history. It is providential.”

Because on this First Sunday of Advent, our gospel lesson reminds us that Jesus understood what it felt like to be “flat worn out” or “depleted.” The word Luke uses is “famished,” as Jesus has been fasting in the wilderness and tempted by the devil.

I know, I know. We don’t talk that much about “the devil” today. And maybe that is part of our problem.

Now, back in the day, my mom had something to say about the devil nearly every day! I probably heard it most often when I was being scolded for some kind of mischievous behavior. I can still hear her say: “Jarrett, the devil’s really gotten into you today!”

As some of you know, I came down with some type of 24-hour bug this past Wednesday night which forced me to miss the Ash Wednesday service. Thankfully, the elders didn’t hesitate to step up and lead what I was told was a beautiful and encouraging service to begin this year’s Lenten. You know what mama might call a fever that prevented me from going to church? “It was the devil.”

And today, if you are invited to mama’s house for dinner don’t expect to be ever serve “deviled eggs.” Not in her house. Oh, she still makes ‘em, but she calls ‘em “angel eggs.” And if I ever slip up and make the observation: “Why mama, these eggs look and taste just like deviled eggs to me!” You know what I’ll hear: “The devil’s gotten into you today, Jarrett!”

And like many teenagers in the 70’s, at least those who grew up Baptist, I got my fill of sermons calling Rock ‘n Roll, “the devil’s music.”

But that’s not the devil that we need to talk about today. That’s not the devil that we need to summon the energy to resist today in our famished, weary, worn-out state.

We need to talk about the devil that is working against us like the force of gravity as we climb together to reach Dr. King’s mountaintop where all people are finally free at last.

We need to talk about how to resist the devil in our nation today that is trying to send us backwards, even knock us off our feet!

We need to talk about how to resist the devil that has pulled many Christians today off and away from the narrow road following Jesus.

We need to talk about the devil that Jesus somehow found the strength to resist even when he felt depleted and powerless.

Let’s look closer at our gospel lesson this morning which comes to us at a most providential time.

First, Jesus resists the devil by refusing to make some bread from the stones that are around him to feed himself. It’s a temptation to follow a way using one’s privilege and power to look after one’s self, to feed one’s self, to put one’s self first, instead of following a way that uses the power and privilege we’ve been given to care for others, to tend to the needs of others, to feed others, even putting the needs of others ahead of our own needs. Jesus resists any movement that suggests that one should put one’s self, or even one’s nation first and any power that believes “empathy is a fundamental weakness of civilization.”[i]

Secondly, Jesus resists the devil by refusing to sell his soul in order to gain political power. Jesus refuses to worship the devil, to join others today who fool-heartedly believe that the end somehow justifies the means, even if those means are the most vile and ugliest of means like: celebrating mass deportations and the separation of families; pardoning men who violently attacked police officers; allowing women to die without access to healthcare and children in other countries to die without food, all the while passionately defending a obvious lies, flagrant greed, unethical behavior, violence against women, and gross immorality coming from the highest seats of public service, sacrificing everything that Jesus taught and stood for on the idolatrous and insidious altar of White Christian Nationalism.

Thirdly, Jesus resists the devil by resisting the enticing promises of protection, comfort, and safety. As is obvious in Luke’s next scene as Jesus is nearly thrown off a cliff for inferring that God loves, and may even favor, those considered to be foreigners, and when later in Luke’s gospel Jesus scolds Peter for drawing his sword to protect Jesus, Jesus refused to succumb to the temptation to follow any path that promised to protect him. Even in a wearied, famished state, Jesus would not fall for any promise of protection by the devil, even from exaggerated or made-up threats like: liberals coming for our guns; refugees coming for our pets; immigrants coming for our jobs; or boys are coming for our daughter’s place on her swim team.

See why the season of Lent has come at a perfect time?

For today, we find ourselves in a wilderness, and like Jesus, we are famished. We wonder how we will ever resist the anti-Christ spirit that so many people today find so attractive. How do we resist the devil when we feel so depleted, defeated, and powerless?

Now, please hear me this morning when I say that the need for resistance today is not a partisan, political issue. It is not a Democrat or Republican issue. It is a gospel issue. Because we’re not talking about a political attack on a political party, we are talking about an anti-Christ attack on the “least of these” whom Jesus has called us to care for, warning us that how we care for them is “the final judgment of the nations.”

So, when we’re talking about resisting the devil, we are not talking about defending a political or partisan agenda. We are taking about defending and caring for the stranger, the sojourner in our midst, the hungry, the homeless, the imprisoned, and the sick, because we believe this is how God judges a nation, and how we can determine if we are on the path of Jesus. We are talking about resisting the devil who is actively tempting us to get off that path. For example— to look the other way as Congress prepares a budget bill that cuts Medicaid, SNAP and other food programs for the almost 50 million hungry people, mostly children and seniors.[i]

But how do we resist the devil when we are so tired? So weary? How do we resist the devil when we feel overwhelmed and distracted by all the lies, chaos, and cruelty that the devil throws our way? How do we resist the devil when are famished?

This is why Rev. Wallis says the season of Lent has arrived at the perfect time.

For today we remember that Jesus was able to resist the devil – how? Look at the very first verse of our gospel lesson. Because he was “full of the Holy Spirit.” And do you remember what had just happened before Jesus was “led by the Spirit into the wilderness”?

In the previous chapter we read: “…and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’”

So, what does that mean for us?

I believe Jesus was able to resist the devil, even when he was flat worn out, because of his identity as a beloved son of God. Jesus was able to keep climbing the mountain because he was full of the Holy Spirit. And the good news is because we identify with Jesus and with his baptism, because the Holy Spirit has descended upon us, because we also God’s beloved children, because we are also full of the Holy Spirit, we too, even when we are famished, have all the power we need in the world to resist the devil!

And look again at verse one. Luke tells us that Jesus was “led by the Spirit into the wilderness.” You and I did not just stumble into this wilderness in which we find ourselves today. The Holy Mountain we need to climb today did not just suddenly appear in front of us. The devil standing before us didn’t just arbitrarily show up to stand in our way, tempting us to go another way.

The Holy Spirit has led us to this place of resistance. We are called by God to be here, and we are empowered by the Spirit to resist the devil in our way, to climb the mountain before us, remaining true to the path we are being led by Christ himself to take.

This is our place, our purpose, and our moment to come together as followers of Jesus to embrace this providential Holy Season of Lent praying for the courage show up to advocate for the way of love Jesus taught and embodied.

This is our time to gather in public places to speak out against the idolatry of Christian Nationalism and for liberty and justice for all.

This is our time to resist the power of fascism, the allure of greed, and the appeal of hate, and the charismatic attraction pulling us down a path of self-service, self-indulgence, and self-preservation.

This moment is ours to align our purchases with our purposes by boycotting goods and services from mega corporations today who are bending their knee to the devil.

This is our time to join with people of other faiths, and with people who may not claim a faith but believe in loving our neighbors, especially those Jesus called the least of these, to resist any power which threatens such neighbors.

This is our time to love out loud, to take the church into the streets, so that others might have hope and say of us, “The Holy Spirit has really gotten into them!”

In the words of Rev. Wallis from that email encouraging pastors today: “It’s time to bring our liturgical season of Lent into our historical crisis, right now, and bear the cost of doing so. Lord, have mercy. Amen.”

[i] https://www.cnn.com/2025/03/05/politics/elon-musk-rogan-interview-empathy-doge/index.html

[ii] Sermon inspired from email received from God’s Politics with Jim Wallis, March 6, 2025.

Saying “Yes” to Jesus

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Mark 10:17-31 NRSV

I have some good news to share this morning!

But, first, let me give you the bad news—for that is the order that it comes to us through this morning’s gospel lesson. The very first line of our text sets an ominous tone: “As he was setting out on a journey…”  For we all know where that journey takes Jesus—the betrayal, the denials, the abandonment, the condemnation, the mocking, and the crowds cheering it on, the crucifixion, death.

The bad news is that the journey we are on as followers of Jesus leads us to the cross. It leads us to places that we would rather not go. It leads us to sacrifice and self-expenditure. It leads us down a confusing, challenging road. To be first, we are challenged to be last. To be great, we are challenged to be a servant. To save our lives, we are challenged to lose our lives. To live, we challenged to die.

Furthermore, our gospel lesson teaches that saying “yes” to this journey is difficult for many people. The road to the life God has created us to live is truly narrow, and there are few who find it.

We read that a man runs up to Jesus, kneels before him and asks him a very good question: “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  It is the question of every person: “What must I do to have a life that is full, purposeful and meaningful?”

Jesus replies:

You know the commandments: “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.

“But teacher, I have kept all of these since my youth.”

In other words, “Jesus, I have been going to Sabbath School since I was a little boy!”

Mark says that Jesus then looked at the man, (I like this next line) and “loved the man,” and said,

But you lack one thing. Go and sell everything you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.

When the man heard this, he was shocked. And he went way grieving, for he had many possessions.

This is bad news because, here we have a very good person, a law-abiding person, a frequent synagogue goer, a religious person, a sincere seeker, someone raised in the faith, who is unable to say “yes” to the call of Jesus to become one of his disciples.

And here is the really bad news for us. The reason the call of Jesus is rejected is because of something that we, living in our capitalistic society, have a great affinity toward: money. This one is unable to follow Jesus, unable to experience, life, full, meaningful, abundant, and eternal, because he loves his bank account more than he loves poor people.

This is a discouraging teaching for those who live in a culture that believes wealth is the answer to all of life’s problems.

It is no secret that the voters of this country have a history of electing their leaders based on what? The leader’s psychological fitness to lead? Nope. The leader’s moral values and ethical character? Oh, heck no! The leader’s sense of compassion and empathy for others? Ha! The leader’s anti-racist, anti-sexist, pro-LGBTQ sentiments? Lord, have mercy!

It was the campaign strategist of Bill Clinton’s successful 1992 presidential campaign James Carville who answered that question most clearly when he said, “It’s the economy stupid.”

Because what our culture values most is wealth. And we seem to be willing to sacrifice everything that is good and decent and holy to create it and hold on to it. People will vote for someone who uses the same lying, hateful, racist, authoritarian language of Adolph Hitler, if they believe doing so might lower their taxes or assure them that none of their tax dollars will be used to help people of another race, ethnicity, or sexuality.

The spirit of greed and selfishness that possesses our society and drives our economy is bad news when we realize that people with wealth do not fair very well in the Bible. Jesus said it is as harder for a wealthy person to do the right thing than it is to get a camel through an eye of a needle.

That’s the bad news. Now, are you ready for the good news? The good news is that this is not the end of this morning’s gospel lesson.

Jesus responded, ‘For mortals it is impossible [for wealthy people] to receive eternal life, but not for God; for God all things are possible.’

Peter says: ‘Look, we have left everything and followed you.’

And Jesus responds:

Truly I tell you, here is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life.

The good news is that this is one of the few times in the gospel story that ol’ Peter opens his big mouth and blurts out something without getting pulled aside and rebuked by Jesus.

Peter says: “Lord, we have left everything—homes, family, friends, jobs—and we have followed you!”

Peter is saying: “Look, Jesus, we are not like the one who came inquiring about eternal life, only to be shocked and grieved by your strange answer. Although you turned our world upside down, although you said things to us like the first shall be last and the last shall be first, and to be the greatest we must be a servant, to save ourselves we must lose ourselves, to live we must die, when you called us, we dropped everything.”

“We let go of a lot to follow you.  And although we do not understand half, a third, ok Jesus, one fourth of the things you teach us, although you scare us to death when you talk about being arrested, tried, and crucified, we’re still here. We didn’t walk away. We’ve stayed the course, and we’ve kept the faith. We may not understand everything, but we do listen! Well, every now and again we might fall asleep, but sometimes we even take notes.”

The good news is that our lesson this morning does not end with the rejection of one greedy man. It ends with a promise from Jesus:

I promise you, for everything you have given up, I will give you much more. For everything you have turned your back upon, I will give you a hundred times more.

Now, are you ready for some more good news?

None of you in this room is like this one who came inquiring about eternal life, only to be shocked and grieved by Jesus’ strange answers. Although Jesus turned your world upside down, although he said things to you like the first shall be last and the last shall be first and to be the greatest you must be a servant, to live you must die, when Jesus called you, you said “yes” to that call.  Some of you let go of a lot to follow him.  And although you do not understand half, a third, ok, one fourth of the things Jesus teaches you, although you don’t even remember last week’s sermon, although Jesus scares you to death when you read of him talking about being arrested, tried and crucified, you’re still here. You’ve not walked away. You’ve stayed the course. You’ve kept the faith.  You may not understand everything you hear, yet you come to this place week after week after week and you listen. Yes, sometimes you fall asleep.  But sometimes, some of you even take some notes!

Although every muscle in your body aches and your knees and hips are worn out, and it hurts to walk and it hurts to sit, and it hurts to stand, you somehow make it to this place every Sunday you can. When you wanted to pull the covers up over your heads and sleep in on this cool Sunday morning, you got up. You got yourself ready and you came. You are here.

And not only are you here to listen to these strange teachings of Jesus, you’ve decided to follow him on a journey that leads to the cross.  You have decided to follow Jesus on a journey that leads to sacrifice and self-expenditure.

Some of you have given up wealth by turning down more lucrative careers in order make a difference in the world by working for a non-profit or as a public servant, by teaching children or caring for senior adults.

Although you don’t have to, and really don’t want to, many of you frequently volunteer as selfless servants in this community— volunteering at the hospital or the Free Clinic, delivering meals on wheels, helping neighbors with their groceries at Park View Mission, advocating for someone with special needs or serving on the board of a non-profit. You freely share your wealth donating to charity and investing in the community.

Many of you have said yes to be a deacon, an elder, a Sunday School teacher or a board member—to work with our children and youth, to sing in the choir, to give to a hurricane relief fund or to purchase diapers or baby formula to deliver to strangers in need, to do whatever you can, with whatever it takes, whatever the cost, wherever you are, to make this world a better place.

And although the way is sometimes difficult, as few follow and many reject this way, you welcome the opportunity to get into some good trouble, some necessary trouble. You are willing to speak out before the town council or the school board, and you are willing to pay the price for doing so.

Although it has made you the black sheep of your own family, you do not hesitate to defend those who are marginalized by sick religion. Your stand for social justice has caused some of your friends to alienate you or to even unfriend you but you keep standing!

Living in a part of the world where it is most unpopular to do so, where the majority of church people have rejected the way of Jesus, you have fully embraced this narrow way that Jesus taught and modeled as you empathetically stand with immigrants and minorities who are being scapegoated, with women whose rights have been taken away, and with the poor who are being crushed by policies of greed.

And you are standing firm in this election season against Christian Nationalism and White Supremacy, the very Spirit of the anti-Christ that is possessing many in the church today.

You speak up for both Jews and Palestinians. You defend the freedom of people of all religions, and you defend people’s right to be free from religion. You decry all war, violence, hate and bigotry.

You deny yourself, love your enemies, forgive seventy times seven, offer the shirt off your back, and you are willing to go the extra mile to heal the hurting, welcome the excluded, and free the oppressed.

When people say that we should only help those who help themselves, you quote Jesus saying: “We are to love our neighbors as we love ourselves!”

When people scream, “America first!” you quote Jesus saying: “for God so loves the whole world!”

When people chant, “Send them back!” You model Jesus by finding those who are being scapegoated, and you invite them to join you at a table.

And when people say they love the sinner, but hate the sin, you remind them that Jesus never once followed the word “love” in a sentence with the word “but!”

As I said last night at our 150-celebration, you have joined members of this historic congregation, and the saints who have gone before us, to do all that you can do to be a kindness-lover, a peace-maker, a foot-washer, a cheek-turner, a justice-doer, and a grace-giver.[i]

The bad news is the story of this one we read about in Mark’s gospel ends with greed, selfishness, grieving and rejection. The good news is that his story is not your story. For even when you were shocked by Jesus’ strange and challenging teaching, you dropped everything and followed him. And because of that, although you suffer persecution from even the people you love, your story ends with a promise from Jesus. Thanks be to God.

[i] Inspired by the words of John Pavlovitz, If God Is Love, Don’t Be a Jerk (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 2021), 69.

Terrible Traditional Tendency

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Mark 7:1-15 NRSV

Well, I have made it as your pastor now through 13 months without anyone coming into my office suggesting that the pastor search team had made a horrible mistake. Which is pretty good, considering that I was told that in my first month serving one congregation!

I believe there are several reasons that you and I seem to be getting along so far. One reason is that we just are a pretty good fit. You are my kind of people. And what I mostly mean by that is that we value the same traditions.

I served one church that accused me of trying to convert them to Catholicism when I added a responsive reading for the Call to Worship in the worship bulletin for the first time. This church also had some serious issues with my clergy robe. After wearing my robe during an Advent service, one parishioner commented on my “dress” and asked me if he could kiss my ring. Oh, and I also got into big trouble in that same church for using the word “parishioner” instead of “congregant” to refer church members.

I greatly disturbed members of several congregations when I proposed that we allow people who were baptized as infants in other denominations to be members of the church without being rebaptized.

I got into big trouble after hosting a dinner for food-insecure people as a furious church member, whose small group used the church kitchen once a month, approached me on Sunday morning saying, “Pastor, those people you fed last week used our Sweet-n-Low!”

After hosting a bi-lingual worship service for Hispanics in the community, a member of one church came up to me, his face red with anger, almost shouting: “They need to learn English or move back to where they came from!”

And I caused all kinds of waves when I would make statements like: “Well, of course we should be an “open and affirming” congregation, because no group of people who seek to follow the inclusive and gracious way of love Jesus taught and embodied has any business being “closed and condemning!”

At a wedding reception, I really upset one church leader as he looked at the delicious beverage I was enjoying in my clear plastic cup, and said, “Preacher, that does not look like iced-tea!”

So, traditionally speaking, you and I are a pretty good match. And another reason that you and I are seem to be getting along is that I am now seasoned enough to know about the importance of traditions, and I am wise enough to know not to mess with them, at least during my first year. Thus, you may notice that our Order of Worship looks exactly like it did before you even heard of me.

Perhaps you have heard the joke: “How many people in the church does it take to change a light bulb?”

“Change! Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout ‘change?’ My grandfather donated that light bulb!”

Over the years, I have learned the art of making subtle changes, if any changes, when it comes to a church’s traditions. Over the years, I have also learned of the value and the importance of traditions.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with rituals and traditions. They can good for those who practice the tradition and good for the larger community.

For example: Those of us who are sitting in a sanctuary with a bottle of hand sanitizer on each pew have no qualms with the tradition or ritual of hand-washing, especially when COVID is still in the air.

Those who have ever enjoyed a spicy shrimp or crawfish boil can appreciate the signs were posted in 2020 in public restrooms in New Orleans which read: “Wash your hands like you ate crawfish and you need to take your contacts out.”

The purity laws of Leviticus encoded simple common-sense traditions for the common good, some that we still follow today, like good hygiene and sanitation. Ultimately, though, the purity traditions ritualized an exhortation from God: “Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy” (Leviticus 19:2). When the Psalmist asks in our Call to Worship: “Lord, who may dwell in your tent?” the traditional understanding was that only people who were ritually clean and holy may approach a holy God (Psalm 15:1).

Scholars debate how much ordinary first-century Jews followed the ritual purity traditions in Leviticus, but the Pharisees about whom we read so much in the gospels certainly did. Throughout the gospels Jesus is continually criticized by the Pharisees for his flagrant disregard of such traditions. We read where Jesus is ridiculed for touching a leper in Mark 1, for not fasting with his disciples and ignoring sabbath laws in Mark 2, for touching a woman with a menstrual issue and for handling a corpse in Mark 5, and for healing two Gentiles in Mark 7. And here in our gospel lesson this morning we read that he is criticized because his disciples ate with “unclean hands.”

The Pharisees accused Jesus and his followers for being ritually unclean, unorthodox heretics who flaunted the time-honored traditions of faith. And, in a sense, they were right.

Because Jesus understood that although traditions are not inherently bad, because humans are flawed creatures, we have traditionally made them bad with our terrible tendency to justify ourselves while scapegoating others. And since purity traditions symbolized Israel’s unique identity differentiating its people from other nations, these traditions were easily used to exclude, otherize, and even demonize others.

Folks who are ritually clean are considered to be close to God, whereas those who are not are abominations to God. Instead of demonstrating the holiness of God, ritual purity traditions become a means of excluding people that we really don’t want to deal with.

Thus, Jesus disregarded and actively demolished these ritual purity distinctions as a measure of spiritual and social status.

The late American theologian Marcus Borg pointed out that Jesus turned the traditional purity system with its “sharp social boundaries” on its head. And in its place, he substituted a radically alternate social vision, a new community characterized “by love and compassion for everyone, not by compliance to a purity code [or tradition]”; “by egalitarian inclusivity rather than hierarchical exclusivity.” In place of the traditional call to “Be holy, for I am holy” (Leviticus 19:2), Jesus deliberately substituted the radical new call to “Be merciful, just as God is merciful” (Luke 6:36).

In his book What Jesus Meant, Garry Willis writes that “no outcasts were cast out far enough in Jesus’ world to make him shun them — not Roman collaborators, not lepers, not prostitutes, not the crazed, and not the possessed.”

Thus, some good and humbling questions for disciples who seek to follow the way of Jesus are: “Who do we sanctimoniously denigrate as impure, unclean, or ‘far from God’— People of other faiths? People with no faith? Christians who worship differently? What about Christian Nationalists or MAGA extremists?”

In what ways have we distorted the self-giving, egalitarian love of God into self-serving, exclusionary elitism? In what ways do we justify ourselves with faithful observance of traditions honoring Jesus and miss our call to faithfully follow Jesus?

And how can we together build what Borg calls a “community shaped not by the ethos and politics of purity, but by the ethos and politics of compassion?”[i]

In response to the Pharisees’ criticism about his disciples disregarding the tradition of handwashing, Jesus immediately points out their hypocrisy: “You want to talk about tradition, then let’s talk about tradition! Because you have a fine way of rejecting the commandment of God to honor your parents in order to keep your tradition!”

“What about the obligation to take care of them in their old age when they are most vulnerable? You’ve created this terrible tradition you call ‘Corban’ where you can exempt part of your 401-K as an offering to God, so you can avoid supporting poor ol’ Mama and Daddy when they need you the most!”

Jesus quotes Isaiah accusing them of “honoring God with their lips with hearts that are far from God, abandoning the commandment of God to hold on to tradition.”

I believe Jesus is essentially saying to the Pharisees and to the Christians behaving terribly today who seemed to have forgotten that the faith is more than saying some words but a way of living, serving, governing and voting:

Your hands may be traditionally pure from all kinds of filth, but your hearts are terribly impure with all kinds of greed. Your hands may be traditionally healthy, but your souls are terribly sick.

Your hands are clean, because you never get them dirty lending a hand to help someone in need.

Your hands are sanitized, because you never use them to care for someone who has been wounded.

Your hands may be thoroughly washed. You even sang, “Happy Birthday” to ensure that you scrubbed for a full 20 seconds. But you never use your hands to reach out to the poor, protect the vulnerable, feed the hungry, lift up the lowly, or shake a hand in solidarity with another who is being oppressed.

Your hands may be germ-free, but they’re not guilt-free, as you have made them into a fist, closing them to the needs of strangers and threatening anyone who is different.

Your hands may be beautifully manicured, but they are as unsightly as they can be, as you won’t risk breaking a nail doing anything for anyone other than yourself.

You lift your hands to praise God in the sanctuary, but you won’t lift a finger to love your neighbor as yourself out in the world.

After serving as your Senior minister for 13 months now, experiencing all of the traditional liturgical seasons, I have learned what traditions are important to you. Like every Disciple congregation I have served, our most important tradition is what is getting ready to take place around this open table. And like many beautiful traditions, Christians have had a terrible tendency to misuse Communion to exclude or alienate others.

Growing up, I remember the minister excusing everyone who was not a member of the church before serving Communion. I have heard ministers stress that one’s heart must be pure, before one can partake. And I have even heard ministers in our own denomination say that this meal is only reserved for baptized Christians.

That is why I choose my words very carefully when I walk behind this table…

Invitation to the Communion 

…proclaiming the good news that the invitation to this table is wide open to all, and all always means all, Believing the only people who should be excluded from the invitation to this table are those that Jesus excluded and that is no one.

Here, in this place, this meal is our most important tradition. We believe it is good for us and for the world– as long as it will always remind us of the beloved community of egalitarian inclusivity and self-giving love that we are called build  outside of these walls, as long as it reminds us, not to “be holy as God is holy,” but “to be merciful as God is merciful.”

[i] https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/3637-20090824JJ

Witnesses of Humanity

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Luke 24:36b-48 NRSV

The Risen Christ stands among the disciples saying, “Peace be with you.”

And what’s the disciple’s response?

“And also with you.”

Nope, not even close.

They are startled, skeptical, and terrified. They think they are seeing a ghost.

Now, think about that for a minute.

Because of fear, the Risen Christ finds himself in a position that many find themselves in today: trying to convince others of their humanity.

“Look at my hands and my feet… Touch me and see that I have flesh and bones.” Look at me, and see I am a human.”

Jesus has joined all those who have yearned and who yearn today for their humanity to be recognized.

I will never forget visiting Berlin, Germany in the 1986 before the Berlin Wall was torn down. We toured a small museum dedicated to the holocaust at “Checkpoint Charlie,” before going into East Berlin. As a stark reminder that the Germans are not the only ones guilty of racism, one of the last exhibits displayed pictures taken during the 1968 strike of sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. I will never forget standing in the city where Adolph Hitler once ruled looking at pictures of black men in my own country, in my neighboring state, in my lifetime, holding signs which read: “I am a man.” I am a human. I am somebody. I have flesh and bones.

And this was Jesus. “Look at my hands and my feet.”

But “in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering.”

I suspect that is where many of us are today. Justice and mercy prevailing and love winning brings us some joy when we first think about it, but it seems too good to be true. As much as we want it, we have difficulty believing it, seeing it, recognizing the possibility of any true peace in our world. Because for love to win, the first thing we must do is to recognize the humanity in others. And that is something we human beings have always had a difficult time doing.

The good news is that Jesus is not finished with his disciples. For it is then Jesus asks a rather embarrassing question: “Do you have anything here to eat?” Now think about that for a moment.

Jesus is put into the awkward position to invite himself to dinner, to ask the disciples for the most basic form of hospitality. Because of the disciple’s fear, Jesus has to remind them that when someone pays a visit, the polite thing to do is to offer that someone something to eat or drink.

Amy and David, you will be glad to know that one of the first things we discussed after you agreed to be here this weekend is how and what we were going to feed you!

Perhaps we also need to be reminded that offering another food and drink is simple, yet profoundly powerful. For when we offer someone something to eat, we are recognizing and affirming their humanity. Thus, not only is it the polite thing to do; it is the humane thing to do. It is also a faithful thing to do.

Father Abraham taught us this truth that hot day by the oaks of Mamre.

In Genesis 18, we read where three strangers appear on the street and get Abraham’s attention. Which raises a good question: “Whose humanity gets our attention? Are there some lives that get our attention over other lives?

Next, Abraham simply does what people of faith do for others, he welcomes them with a generous, gracious hospitality.

Notice that when he sees them, he doesn’t ignore them and allow them to pass on by. He doesn’t politely nod or wave in their direction. Nor does he safely call out to them from a distance asking them to come to him, and he certainly does not tell them to go back to where they came from. Abraham goes out to them. And he doesn’t cautiously walk over to them. When he sees them, the scripture says that he “runs” to meet them where they are.

And when he encounters these strangers, notice that he does not stand arrogantly over them or above them, but he humbly bows himself to the ground before them and speaks to them like a servant:

“Please do not pass me by. Let me get some water and wash the dust off your feet. Let me make a place for you to rest in the shade. Oh, and my wife, Sarah, bakes the best bread. Come and allow us to serve you. Then, you can continue your journey refueled and refreshed.”

When the strangers agree to stay a while, Abraham can hardly contain himself. He runs back inside, “Hurry, Sarah, prepare three cups of choice flour, knead it, and bake a delicious cake. He then runs out back to the field and takes the best-looking calf of the flock and has his servant prepare a delicious dinner. He brought it to them under the shade tree and waited on them while they ate.

And as verse one of chapter 18 suggests, we later discover that these three strangers were actually angels, messengers from God. This story teaches us that when we graciously and generously welcome the stranger, we welcome God. When we invite others to the table, the Lord appears.

In chapter 10 of Mark’s Gospel, we read the following words of Jesus:

Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me (Mark 10:40-42).

In the previous chapter we read where Jesus took a little child in his arms, and said:

Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me (Mark 9:36-37).

And in Matthew 25 we read Jesus’ words:

I was hungry, and you gave me food; I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink; I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.

Do you see the pattern here? Jesus said that when we welcome others, we are welcoming him. And when we welcome him, we welcome God.

There was once a monastery that had fallen on hard times. The order was dying out. There were only five monks left, the abbot and four others.

The four monks feared that the monastery would have to be closed. In their desperation, they went out and sought counsel from a wise man they knew who lived in a hut in the woods that surrounded their monastery.

The wise man agreed to a meeting to talk with the abbot regarding the fate of their monastery. The meeting was very brief. For the only thing the abbot had to say was that he knew that “the Messiah was among them.”

The wise man returned to the monastery where the monks were eagerly waiting. “Please tell us! What do we have to do to save the monastery?” “Well,” the abbot replied, “the abbot was rather cryptic. He simply said that the Messiah is among us.”

“The Messiah is among us?” The four monks scratched their heads. How could the Messiah be among them? As they pondered the meaning of those words, the monks soon began to think of each member of the order as a possible Messiah. They started to treat one another with tremendous respect and kindness. And when people came to visit, they treated each of them as if they could be the Messiah, too.

When people from the surrounding area often came to picnic on the monastery’s beautiful grounds, to walk along the paths, and to pray in the chapel, the visitors were amazed by the generous welcome they received from the monks. There was an aura of respect and love that filled the place, making it strangely attractive, even compelling. Hardly knowing why, they began to come back to the monastery more frequently, to picnic, to play, and to pray. They began to bring their friends to show them this special place. And their friends brought their friends. Some of the younger men who came to visit talked more and more with the old monks, and they began to join the order. So before long, the monastery had once again become a thriving order, and a vibrant center of light and love for all people.

When we recognize the humanity of another, the dignity of another, when we graciously set a place at the table for another, when we do something as simple but as powerful as offering them something to eat or drink, we can begin to see the Imago Dei, the image of God in that person. And that is when something shifts and something we call “resurrection” happens, something that once seemed too good to be true becomes reality. Justice and mercy prevail. Love wins and peace comes.

As Jesus eats, enough of their fear subsides that their minds are opened, and they begin “to understand.” With each bite of fish that Jesus takes, the disciples are transformed from fearful skeptics to “witnesses of these things,” emboldened to be public witnesses for justice, mercy, and love in the world—which is exactly what our world needs today!

The world needs witnesses who do not merely talk about “these things” here, among ourselves, inside these four walls, but who do “these things” out in the public for all those who yearn for their humanity to be recognized:

For those whose basic human rights, even their bodily autonomy, are being stripped away;

For those who would love to have a seat at the table but are not invited or feel unwelcomed;

For those who have been traumatized by sick religion;

For those who are living in poverty, for workers denied a living wage;

For those whose lives are terrorized by war and violence.

We need to witness in public spaces speaking truth to power, asking questions of our presidential candidates, our governor, our representatives, and our mayor and city council, all who claim to be Christians:

“What are you doing to be a witness for the least of these?”

“What are you doing to be a witness of mercy for sick people and elderly people?”

“What are you doing to be a witness of justice for poor people and for incarcerated people?”

“What are you doing to be a witness of love for all those who are crying out for their humanity to be recognized?”

Jesus, the brown-skinned Jewish Palestinian, has risen from the dead and is standing before us today, pleading: “Friends, I’m hungry. Will somebody please give me something to eat? Will somebody please recognize my humanity by being a witness to the humanity of others?”

As disciples, may we push past our fear—fear of the stranger, fear of losing some friends, fear of upsetting some family, fear of some failure, fear of not having enough left over for ourselves—and understand that to be Easter people, to practice resurrection, is to first practice hospitality. And may we understand that we feed Jesus every time we feed the least, every time we offer a seat at the table for someone hungering and thirsting for justice.And the good news is that when the disciples fed Jesus, he fed them in return. When they chose generosity over suspicion, love over fear, their eyes were opened, their doubt vanished, and the resurrected Jesus came alive in them. Peace didn’t come first. Sharing a meal did. A recognition of another’s humanity did.

May we be witnesses of these things. And may the peace of Christ be with us all.

The Good Exorcist

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Mark 1:29-45 NRSV

As I mentioned last week, Mark 1 can be a challenging chapter for the educated mainline modern ear with its references to unclean spirits and demons. We progressives would always prefer to call Jesus “The Good Teacher” rather than “the Good Exorcist!”

However, when reading this chapter, it is impossible to ignore the fact that it seems very important to Mark to inform his readers that a primary responsibility in the job description of the Son of God is confronting, rebuking, and exorcising demons or “unclean spirits.”

Last week we read in verse 27:

They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, ‘What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.’

And today, beginning with verse 32 we read:

That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases and cast out many demons; …And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

Now, before we decide to amend the church budget so we can purchase some holy water, a few giant crucifixes and a book of exorcism rights and begin looking for people whose bodies contort and heads spin around, let’s keep reading this chapter in Mark.

For I believe to understand the nature of demonic or “unclean spirits,” I believe it is important to look closely at the details of the story which ends chapter one.

A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, ‘If you choose, you can make me clean.’

 Isn’t that interesting? At the end of the chapter about Jesus casting out unclean and demonic spirits, comes someone considered to be unclean begging Jesus to make him clean.  In other words, “Jesus, if you choose, you can exorcize the unclean or demonic spirit that is tormenting me.”

Leprosy was the most feared and dreaded disease of Jesus’ day, one that always brought horror and despair. “Leprosy” is an indefinite and general term used for a whitish rash on the skin. Spots, sores and swelling may also be present. It was an uncomfortable disease; however, what made leprosy so feared, and so demonic, was not what it did to a person physically, but what it did to a person socially. Perhaps like no other disease, leprosy excluded, marginalized and utterly otherized. You could say that it demonized another.

And it must be pointed out that this demonic otherization was created by so-called, “good,” Bible-believing folks who loved to quote passages from Leviticus to back up their demonic acts.

Chapters 13 and 14 of Leviticus discuss the social side effects of this disease at great length. Because a person with leprosy was considered “unclean,” a leper had to wear clothes which had been torn so they could be easily recognized and avoided. Lepers also had to cover their mouths and cry “unclean, unclean” in the presence of others so no one would approach them. Eduard Schweizer comments that rabbis considered a leper to be a “living corpse.” They were alive, but not alive. They were here, but not here; in the community, but not a part of the community. They were unalive, unaccepted, and untouchable.

We are then told that Jesus is “moved with pity…”

It is important to note that the Greek word used here describes visceral, gut-wrenching feeling. Jesus was moved from deep within his soul. Jesus literally felt the pain and the stigma of the leper. Because the leper suffered, Jesus also suffered. Some scholars say that the word is better translated: “angry.” When Jesus encountered the suffering of the leper, it angered him, but he was angry not only by the physical pain of it, but by the social pain of it— how this dehumanizing disease took people out of community, how it made them social outcasts, outsiders, other.

Here’s how we know that Jesus is angry at not the disease itself, but at the social injustice of it all.  Jesus reaches out his hand and “touches” this one who was considered by faith and culture to be “untouchable.” “Immediately the leprosy leaves him, and he is made clean.”  Then we read: “He sent him away at once, saying to him, ‘See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.”

Although Jesus had healed the man from the leprosy, Jesus needed him to follow through with the cleansing rituals that would restore him back into community. More than anything else, Jesus wanted this outsider to become an insider. Jesus wanted this untouchable to be touchable, this otherized to be welcomed, seen, heard, valued, loved, and supported.

1972 was a year of enlightenment for me. For it was not only one of the first times I experienced the love of God in action when Mrs. Banks came to visit me in the hospital after my tonsils were removed, it was the first time I had an encounter with the demonic.

 Since I attended a segregated church and a private kindergarten, First Grade was my first exposure to children whose skin color differed from mine. During the first few weeks of school, I immediately became friends with a student of color named Robert whose desk was directly behind me. I also remember playing on the playground with Robert during recess and eating lunch with him in the cafeteria.

About a month into the school year, I remember overhearing my parents and my grandparents, who lived just down the road from us, having a discussion that I did not understand. Although it had been three years since the assassination of Martin Luther King, I remember his name being invoked as an example of how “colored people” like “to stir up trouble.” They talked about a racial riot which had occurred at the high school, how a school bus was set on fire and how a white girl was stabbed with a knife by a black boy.

I remember hearing my parents and grandparents talk about people of color as if they were animals, suggesting that they, like the Native Americans, did not have souls like white people. And I distinctly remember them somehow using the Bible to back up their beliefs.

Before going to school the next day, I will never forget my mother sitting me down at the kitchen table and telling me that “colored people were bad people and wanted to cause trouble,” and they may try to start a fight with me.

Mama said: “So, if a colored person comes up to you, I want you to just ignore them. Don’t pay them any attention. Do you hear me?” I had learned that whenever she ended a sentence with “Do you hear me?” I better do what she said, as I was constantly reminded as a child that God would punish me if I disobeyed my parents.

While standing in the front of the line preparing to go to the cafeteria on the following day, I will never forget Robert, who was standing three or four students behind me calling my name, “Jarrett, Jarrett.” And obeying mama, I ignored him. “Jarrett, Jarrett, Jarrett, Jarrett,” he kept calling my name. “Jarrett, can’t you hear me? Jarrett!” I just stood there, acted as if Robert did not exist.

And as we walked in a single line to the cafeteria, I remember feeling sick, convicted that I just did something terrible, diabolical. It was the very first time that I realized that my parents could be wrong. That their understanding of scripture could be wrong.

All because during the first few weeks of first grade, Robert had become me my friend. All because we talked and listened to one another in class, at lunch and on the playground. As novelist and gay activist Sarah Shulman has written: “Nothing disrupts dehumanization more quickly than inviting someone over, looking into their eyes, hearing their voice, and listening.”

It has been said that the greatest problem of the twenty-first century has been the greatest problem in every generation: the problem of “othering,” a demonic evil that has existed since the human beings first walked on the earth. Virtually every global, national, regional, denominational, church and family conflict is because someone made the decision to identify a group that is “us” and another group that is “them.” Othering undergirds territorial disputes, sectarian violence, military conflict, genocide, the spread of disease, hunger, food insecurity, and even climate change.

And it almost always begins with words. A few dehumanizing, otherizing, demonizing words describing a group of people as “illegals,” “aliens,” abominations,” “animals,” “vermin” or an “infestation.”

We heard it this past week from a congressman from Florida when he suggested that we not refer to even babies on the Gaza strip as “innocent Palestinians’”

And recently we have heard a presidential candidate repeat the assertion: “They are poisoning the blood of our nation.”

I often wonder how much better this world would be today if churches took Jesus’ response to the evil of otherization as serious as we took Jesus’ acts of healing, if along with the great hospitals that churches have built all over the world, churches built advocacy centers for social justice. What kind of world would it be if every church taught and advocated for social justice like they pray for people who are sick?

As disciples of the Good Exorcist, we must always stand ready rebuke and call out any otherization we encounter today, in all its forms, as the abhorrent, demonic evil that it is. We must be moved to holy anger like Jesus when we see anyone marginalized by culture or religion.

We don’t need carry around holy water or a giant crucifix. We just need to possess some courage to speak up and speak out whenever we encounter racism, xenophobia, queerphobia or any type of hate. We must never be ashamed of the good news of the gospel that all people, all tribes, all nations are beloved children of God. And we must continue to be a church that welcomes all people to the table, believing that there’s no such thing as “us and them,” because there’s only us. This church must always be a place where everyone is seen, heard, valued, loved, and supported, and there are never any exceptions.

Christmas Favor

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Advent and Christmas, Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Luke 1:46b-55, 2:14 NRSV

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!

Among those whom God favors? Let’s be honest for a moment. Are you at least a little bit offended? God doesn’t have favorites, right? God is supposed to be like that parent going back to the shopping mall on Christmas Eve, because they are afraid a few dollars may have been spent more on one child than another! The phrase is so offensive, did you know that some ancient manuscripts omit it all together!

However, even if we omit it, we have the Song of Mary. In the Magnificat, Mary sings: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for God has looked with favor [there it is again] on the lowliness of God’s servant. God has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty” (Luke 1:46-48, 52-53).

And then, we have the shepherds, the first ones on earth to hear the pronouncement of Christmas. Of course, we love to romanticize these shepherds, as we remember our innocent children depicting these Christmas characters wearing bathrobes in adorable Christmas plays. We also think about images of the shepherd king David and the beautiful green pastures, still waters and the protection of the rod and the staff of the twenty-third Psalm. And we may remember Jesus calling himself “the good shepherd.”

However, the reality is that shepherding was a most despised occupation. New Testament Professor Alan Culpepper writes:

In the first century, shepherds were scorned as shiftless, dishonest people who grazed their flocks on others’ lands.

Fred Craddock writes that the shepherds belong to the Christmas story:

Not only because they serve to tie Jesus to the shepherd king, David (2 Sam 14:23, 21) but because they belong on Luke’s guest list for the kingdom of God: the poor, the maimed, the blind, the lame (Luke 14:13, 21).

This is why the angels pronounce the good news of Christmas is great joy for ALL the people. Culpepper writes:

The familiarity of these words should not prevent us from hearing that, first and foremost, the birth of Jesus was a sign of God’s abundant grace.

The birth is a sign that God loves ALL people, even the most despised, the most lowly, those labeled by the religious culture as the most immoral.

And in what form does this sign appear? The savior was coming into the world through a poor peasant woman to be placed in a feeding trough made for animals. And it is this humble scene that sets the stage for his entire life on earth. The savior of the world was born and lived and died on the fringes, on the margins of society—underscoring the truth that the good news has come into the world for ALL—especially to those who are marginalized by politics and religion.

Page Kelly, my Old Testament professor at Southern Seminary, used to love to say that the biblical symbol for God’s justice on this earth was not a woman holding a set of scales wearing a blindfold, but was one of the prophets holding a set of scales with his eyes bugged out and a long bony finger mashing down on the side of the poor—favoring those who have always been despised and marginalized by society. Favoring those in our world who need more justice, more peace and more love.

Think about that for a moment. Today, is there any person or group of people, perhaps someone you know personally, who needs more love today?

It is a most important question, for I believe answering this question, and then doing something about it, is how God wants us to celebrate Christmas. More than lighting candles and singing carols, I believe God needs us, yearns for us, to show some favor, to love some people more than we love others—namely, those among us today who need more love.

The entire Biblical witness affirms that this favor is the will of God.

Moses commanded the Israelites:

If there are any poor…in the land…do not be hard-hearted or tightfisted toward them. Instead, be generous and lend them whatever they need. …Give generously to the poor, not grudgingly, for the Lord your God will bless you in everything you do. There will always be some in the land who are poor. That is why I am commanding you to share freely with the poor and with other Israelites in need (Deut 15:7-11).

Never take advantage of poor and destitute laborers, whether they are fellow Israelites or foreigners living in your towns. …True justice must be given to foreigners living among you… (Deut 24:14-16).

The writers of the Proverbs could not be more emphatic:

…blessed are those who help the poor… Those who oppress the poor insult their Maker, but helping the poor honors him”(Proverbs 14:21, 31).

If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord— and he will repay you! (Proverbs 19:17).

Those who shut their ears to the cries of the poor will be ignored in their own time of need (Proverbs 21:13).

A person who gets ahead by oppressing the poor or by showering gifts on the rich will end in poverty (Proverbs 22:16).

Whoever gives to the poor will lack nothing, but those who close their eyes to poverty will be cursed (Proverbs 28:27).

So,

Speak out for those who cannot speak, for the rights of all the destitute. Speak out, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy (Proverbs 31:8-9 NRSV).

The Psalmist writes:

Give justice to the poor and the orphan; uphold the rights of the oppressed and the destitute. Rescue the poor and helpless; (Psalms 82:2).

Isaiah pleads:

Learn to do good. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the cause of orphans. Fight for the rights of widows. “Come now, let’s settle this,” says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow. Though they are red like crimson, I will make them as white as wool’ (Isaiah 1:17-18).

“In other words,” says the Lord, if you truly want to celebrate the advent of the Messiah, if you want to light a candle on Christmas Eve and experience some of my Christmas favor, sing your carols, but then make a point to love the least among you more. Offer more love to those who need love more!

Free those who are wrongly imprisoned; lighten the burden of those who work for you. Let the oppressed live free and remove the chains of injustice. Share your food with the hungry and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help.

Then your salvation will come like the dawn, and your wounds will quickly heal. The Spirit of God will lead you forward, and the glory of the Lord will protect you from behind. Then when you call, the Lord will answer. ‘Yes, I am here,’ he will quickly reply, ‘Remove the heavy yoke of oppression…Feed the hungry and help those in trouble. Then (listen carefully to this!) your light will shine out from the darkness, and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon’(Isaiah 58:6-10).

You know what that sounds like? That sounds like Christmas to me! Sounds like John chapter one:

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it (John 1:5).

The good news is that when we bear the image of God, when we heed the words of the prophets and follow the way of Jesus, the light of the world, by favoring the least of these among us, when we offer more love to the lowly, the marginalized, the despised, the poor and the weak, when we reach out and offer them our bread, our drink, our clothing, our presence, our touch, our very selves, then we will not be offended by the chorus of the angels:

Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth, whom God favors.

All Heaven Will Break Loose

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year ALeave a comment

hatewall

Matthew 16:13-20 NRSV

Jesus understands the importance of perception and identity.

He asks the question about himself. Who do people say that I am, and who do you say I am? It is Peter who answers correctly: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”

Then Jesus shifts the conversation from his identity to the identity of the church, which is very important for us to consider today. This, by the way, is the first of the two times the word “church” is mentioned in Matthew. The word does not appear in Mark, Luke or John. So, it’s probably a good idea that we pay careful attention here.

What is the church? Who are we? How do people perceive the church? What is our purpose? What makes the church special?

Of course, we love part of Jesus’ answer, especially as it is read in the King James Version: “The Gates of Hell will not prevail against it” (KJV).

In a world where hate crimes are on the rise, wildfires are claiming lives, storms are more violent, COVID still threatens, war is still raging, and all hell seems to be breaking loose, this is indeed some very good news.

The forces of death, despair, and darkness, no matter how great those forces seem to be in our world, will not prevail.

Sickness, disease, war, hate, any power of Hades, a word that is accurately translated “the power of death,” will not have its way with us.

That might be one of the reasons we call the place the church meets each Sunday morning a “Sanctuary.”

Death is moving and hell is coming, as the old hymn says. It threatens us. It frightens us. But together, gathered in this sanctuary as the church, we are reminded that we are safe and secure from all alarm leaning on the everlasting arms.

There’s no way I can count members of my congregations who have told me that they don’t know how people make it in this world without the church.

Because, as we are gathered in community, assembled in our sanctuary with people who are praying with us and for us, worshiping together, singing hymns together, as we make commitments to support and to care for one another, when we hear evil knocking at the door demanding to come in, threatening to do us harm, with nothing to fear and nothing to dread, we respond with utmost confidence:

“What’s that you say? You say it’s darkness and despair out there knocking on our door? You say it’s ‘hell’ out there trying to get in here?”

“Oh, not no. But heaven no!”

“In the name of Jesus, heaven no, you’re not coming in here. Heaven no, you’re not taking away our blessed peace. Heaven no, you’re not getting any of our joy divine.”

The good news is, and those of us who are the church know it, despite the constant onslaughts of Hades, despite the powers that seek to destroy us, the church hangs on, because we know that, ultimately, we will emerge victorious. We hang on knowing that, in the end, love always wins.

We hang on.

We hang on.

We. Hang. On.

How many times have you used that expression to describe the church? “How are things going there at First Christian Church in Lynchburg?”

“Oh, we’re hanging on.”

“It’s tough being church in today’s world, but we are making it.”

“We are surviving.”

Sadly, that describes both the perception and identity of many churches today. They’re in survival mode.

And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. For who doesn’t want to be a survivor, especially when all hell is breaking loose?

It’s a struggle, but we’re hanging on. It’s tough, but we’re paying the bills. It’s a fight, but we’re keeping the lights on. COVID knocked us down, but we are getting back on our feet.

Not exactly sure what we think of him yet, but we got a new preacher. He’s not perfect. He’s pretty bad with names. But we seem to be getting by.

But wouldn’t you like to be more than a church that is just getting by? More than just hanging on?

Wouldn’t you like to be a church that is more about making a difference out there, and less about maintaining the status quo in here?

Wouldn’t you like to be a church that is more about bringing some heaven to earth and less about hanging on until we die and go to heaven?

Although we love this place, shouldn’t the church more than “a sanctuary?”

Let’s look again at this passage. About the church, Jesus says: “The gates of hell will not prevail against it.”

Do you hear it? Do you see it?  Jesus says that it’s the gates of Hades, it’s the gates of death, it’s the gates of despair, it’s the gates of darkness, that will not prevail.

Notice that he’s not talking about the gates of the church, the doors of the sanctuary, prevailing against an onslaught from Hades. He’s talking about the gates of Hades that will not prevail against an onslaught from the church!

When Jesus describes the identity of the church, when Jesus talks about who we are, and who we are called to be in this world, he doesn’t talk about a host of evil rounding us. He doesn’t say death is coming and hell is moving. He says that it is the church that is coming, and it is heaven that is moving. It is the host of good that is rounding the host of evil.

By talking about the gates of Hades, Jesus is expecting the church to be on the offensive. Jesus is expecting the forces of truth, light, grace, justice, mercy, empathy, kindness, love and life to be on the move tearing down the gates of death, darkness and despair.

Jesus isn’t talking about all hell breaking loose in our world. Jesus is saying that when we embrace our identity, when we answer the call to be disciples, when we claim our authority, when we fulfill our mission to be the church in our world, all heaven is going to break loose!

Sadly, the perception of the church is often the other way around. We are the ones cowering behind the gates, hiding behind the walls, shrinking behind the stained glass. We are always on the defensive. We are gatekeepers and wall builders. For our own protection and preservation, we decide who can come in and who must stay out.

But Jesus warns us: “what is bound on earth is bound in heaven. And what is loosed on earth is loosed in heaven.”

In other words, too often the church— by taking a defensive posture, with our gates and with our gate keepers, with our walls and our barriers, with our obstacles and our hurdles—the church has been guilty of preventing all heaven from breaking loose in our world.

However, Jesus says we possess the keys, we are given the authority, to open doors, remove barriers, and get rid of obstacles. As the church, we are not gate keepers, deciding who’s in and who’s out; we are gate destroyers. We are not wall builders; we are wall demolishers!

And when we do that, when the church swings wide its doors, when God’s people leave the safety and security of the sanctuary, when we boldly go out into our world to confront the gates of death, darkness and despair, Jesus says, the gates of hell will not prevail, and all heaven will break loose.

But, when we live in a time and place where all hell seems to be breaking loose, with Rev. Dr. King, we must remember that Jesus does not want God’s people to use darkness to defeat darkness or use hate to defeat hate.

I believe Jesus wants God’s people to use the authority entrusted to them to overwhelm deep darkness with illuminating light; overthrow bigoted fear with revolutionary love; overcome deliberate deception with gospel truth; overtake passive attitudes with empathetic mercy, override uncalled-meanness with called-for kindness, and overrun white nationalism with a non-violent determination to work for the liberty and justice of all. Because I believe what our world needs more than anything else is for all heaven to break loose!

There are many ways I am looking forward to breaking loose some heaven with the First Christian Church in Lynchburg.

Next year, as we mark 150 years of serving God and community, in addition to our three celebration dinners, the planning team has already started having a conversation about providing opportunities for service out in the community to compliment each dinner. Together, we will address big problems such as: food-insecurity, affordable housing and illiteracy. And when we tackle these problems head-on, all the while lavishing others with love and grace, then I believe all heaven will break loose!

When we partner with Rabbi Harley of the Agudath Sholom congregation and other faith leaders to offer special opportunities for faith dialogue in the community, such as something called: Theology on Tap; when we demonstrate to the community the holy value of sitting at a table in a public place with people of all faiths and people of no faith, discussing important, albeit difficult matters of faith such as: racism, gun violence, climate change, reproductive justice, and substance abuse. And when we act on these matters with love, then I believe all heaven will break loose!

When we invite and inspire students from our neighboring colleges and universities to join a movement for wholeness in our world, when we harness their passion, their youth, their energy, their love, and their unwavering faith that love always wins, then all heaven is going to break loose!

As advocates for prophetic justice, as part of an anti-racism, pro-reconciling church, we are going to join with the prophets and Jesus to proclaim love for the marginalized and liberation to the oppressed. We will seek to transform racist systems and to change hearts and minds by communicating our faith convictions to policy makers and people in power. We will continue working to fulfill the dream of Dr. King and speak out against the whitewashing of history and the hateful, anti-woke, anti-Christ agenda of racist politicians who embolden others to commit deadly crimes of hate and acts of terror. And when we work for change with love and determination, hell may tremble. Hell may shake, and hell may push back against us; but then, if we don’t moderate our voices or compromise our convictions, all heaven is going to break loose!

We are going to continue to break down the barriers of bigotry that are dividing our nation by partnering with people who truly believe that the greatest thing we can do as human beings is to love our neighbors as ourselves. And when, together, when we pledge to stand up and speak out for the equality, the dignity, and the worth of all people, while celebrating and affirming that the diversity of humankind is the very holy image of God, I believe all heaven is going to break loose.

And as a church committed to unconditional love of God, to the extravagant grace the Christ, and to the unwavering persistence of the Holy Spirit, we will destroy any gate, remove any hurdle, and break down any barrier that any person or institution tries to erect to prevent anyone from coming to the table of the Lord. And when we do this, when we welcome all to the Lord’s table as God has welcomed us, when we encourage all people to answer the call to be a movement for wholeness in our fragmented world, we believe all heaven is going to break loose!

So, let us embrace our identity. Let us claim our authority. And let us answer the call to fulfill the mission to be the church, to move heaven and earth, so the world may know who we are and whose we are: disciples of the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. Amen.

A Prophetic Cup of Water

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year ALeave a comment
Matthew 10:42-45 NRSV

Matthew Chapter 10 is perhaps one of the most demanding chapters in the entire Bible. 

Early in the chapter, we read that the discipleship business is a risky business. We are to go out into the world and encounter the sick and the dying. We are to engage those possessed by pure evil. We are to be willing to leave behind our families, our homes, even our clothes! Persecution is not only to be accepted. It is to be welcomed!  To save one’s self, we are to practice denying one’s self, pouring one’s self out, and losing one’s self.

And when read it, we think, “You know, I don’t think I am really cut out for this discipleship business. I don’t have the gifts, the time, the energy, the courage, and quite honestly, I don’t have the desire.” 

So thanks for the invitation, but I prefer to just keep my place safe and comfy in air-conditioned sanctuary. I am quite content singing some songs, even listening to a sermon. 

 Then, we reach the end of the chapter and we read these words: “Whoever gives even a cold cup of water to one of these little ones—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”  

And we say: “Hey now.  Wait just a minute! You know, this just might be something I can handle!—I can’t heal the sick. I hate hospitals, and I do all I can do to avoid nursing homes. 

I don’t have what it takes to minster to the poor. They make me nervous, make me feel dirty, and quite honestly, they stress me out.

I can’t be with the dying. That is what Hospice is for. And I dread going to funerals. I never know what to say or what to do. 

And I can’t leave my family behind. I can’t give up my possessions. And I don’t want to even think about losing my life. But hey, I am all about sharing a cold cup of water! 

Finally! Something I can do!. So, Jesus, I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. As soon as I get home from church this afternoon, I am going to hook up my water hose to the spigot out in front of my house.  Then I am going to I make a sign and put it out by the road that reads: ‘Free cold drink of water for all who are thirsty!’ And to make this guest preacher happy, since he is preparing to move away, I will even add #JustLoveYour Neighbor.

Maybe I am cut out to be a disciple of Jesus after all!”For most of us, this seems like some good news! We who generally fail at casting out demons (even when they show up in church), we who would rather come to this lively place, than take the gospel out to the dying, we who take care of our own children while other children go hungry, and we who find praise far more satisfying than persecution, even we can open the doors of the kingdom through a simple act of hospitality, as small as giving a thirsty stranger a cold cup of water. 

“Praise be to Jesus!” we say. 

“So, I am going to just forget about all of that other stuff Jesus talked about, that big prophetic stuff, that demanding stuff, that risky and radical stuff. I’m just going to take Jesus at his word in Matthew 10:42 and run with it!  In fact, is going to be my new favorite scripture verse. This is my new calling. This is my mantra and my ministry. Cold cups of water for all God’s people!

But you have to wonder if we aren’t missing something. For deep inside, we all know we can do a lot better than that. We all know a cross or two we could bear. We all know a neighbor or three we could love. We all know someone we could help out. We all know ways we could be a little less selfish, less materialistic, more generous. 

True discipleship really cannot be as easy as passing out a few cups of water, can it? Are we really supposed to forget all about everything else that Jesus talked about? All of that hard stuff about “turning the other cheek,” “loving our enemies,” and selling everything we have to give to the poor?”  

Surely those are the marks of true discipleship. Those are the keys to the kingdom of heaven. There’s just no way a small act of inconsequential hospitality can compare to the risky and radical business of battling the demonic, coming into contact with the sick, ministering to the dying and enduring persecution.  

But Jesus seems to disagree. For in a fragmented and divisive world such as ours, a simple act of kindness, a small gesture of welcome to a stranger, a little genuine hospitality is never an easy, inconsequential act. In fact, it can be very risky business with very radical consequences.

 If you have trouble believing it, ask Don Hames who recently fell through someone’s front porch while delivering a small box of groceries! 

Or ask him how the act of delivering a hot meal can actually lead to the disappointment, rejection and persecution that Jesus talked about. As they encircled Jesus to arrest him in the Garden of Gethsemane, ask him about the day the St. Tammany’s Sherriff’s department came to his home, after a meal recipient who was suffering with mental illness and paranoia had trouble believing in our gracious hospitality. 

But also ask him how simple, practical acts of acts of love have literally changed people’s lives, and I am not talking only about the lives of those we serve, but I am also talking about those who serve. 

In this fragmented world, a world of walls and barriers, a world where there is so much division, so much hate and loneliness, a small gesture of hospitality, becomes a risky, radical and prophetic act that has the power to change your life, and perhaps the world.

And Jesus says to go and do this. Go out, move out, seek out, and reach out to strangers. Go and love your neighbors. 

And yes, this world is frightening beyond our walls. Our neighbors can be so different. And the truth is some of our neighbors can be downright scary. 

But our neighbors are also thirsty. 

So, welcome, engage, touch. Share a drink with someone. Make yourselves vulnerable to another. For there is no other way to fulfill the purpose for which you were created—to seek and make genuine peace in this world. 

This is discipleship. This is following the way of Jesus. It is done face-to-face, side-by-side, hand-to-hand, person-to-person. 

We cringe. Because we know that this kind of hospitality involves risk. It involves radical openness and intimacy with another.

Offering a cup of water to another involves the risk of rejection, even persecution, but also the risk of laughter; the risk of tears, but also the risk of love. 

I’ve heard it said that the problem with others is that they are just so “other.” Others can quite often be different. Others may not like us. Others might refuse our kindness. Others might wound us. Others might crucify us. And worst of all, others might change us.

The truth is that putting a welcome sign in the front yard beside the water hose is a downright dangerous activity.

Let me share the story with you that helped to inspire this movement, we call Just Love. A few years ago, while serving as pastor, I walkedx into the church kitchen to get a cup of coffee. A woman from the cleaning service the church had hired was in there preparing to mop the floor. Although I had seen her almost every week for three years, I am ashamed to say that I did not know her name. 

But that day, before I really thought about it, before considered the dangerous consequences of it, I asked this stranger, “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Somewhat shocked by my simple act of hospitality, she responded, “Yes, I would.” 

She then introduced herself to me over that cup, as she introduced all of her children, a sick grandchild, a sister battling cancer, a brother who lost his job, and an absent husband. I filled a bag with squash and cucumbers from our community garden, and I hugged this woman who I had hardly spoken to in three years—this stranger that I had all but ignored—this woman who was no longer a stranger. She was my sister. And acknowledging the change, the miraculous transformation that had occurred, I thought, or maybe I prayed, “Good Lord, it was just one cup of coffee!”

Paraphrasing United Methodist Pastor William Willimon: This is the way of the good Lord. For Jesus, oftentimes through the smallest and simplest of ways, is always trying to change us, challenge us, move us. He welcomes and accepts us only so we will welcome others, for not only their sakes, but for our sakes.

This is the gift of community. This is why we were created. It is the answer to our own sadness, to our own loneliness and to our deepest desires. Jesus knows we were not created to live in isolation, but created from the heart of a God who lives in a self-giving, loving communion with the Son and the Holy Spirit—A heart that is so full of love that it cannot help but offer grace and redemption to all and call all into this communion. 

And this communion grows. It grows when we offer kindness, gentleness, and mercy, when other lonely lives become wrapped up in our own, when the grace of God that was given to us is freely given to someone else. 

And before we know it, the small cup of water we offered to another becomes a cup of salvation as fear fades, barriers fall, walls come down, hands touch, hearts connect, eyes open, lives become entwined.  Creed, color, gender, sexual orientation, it really doesn’t matter.

Doing business with this kind of God, even when it seems small, safe and inconsequential, is always a risky business with radical consequences. And Jesus wants us to know that these consequences are eternal. Whether we are fighting demonic evil, healing the sick, caring for the dying, leaving behind our homes, our possessions, our friends and family, being persecuted for taking a stand for social justice, or simply offering meager acts of hospitality to a stranger, we always risk experiencing salvation.  

This is the great wonder of the gospel. When we reach out, accept, and welcome others, when we take the hand of another, when we embrace another, when we offer the unconditional love of God to another, even in the smallest of ways, even in sharing a glass of water or a small cup of coffee, or a box of groceries, God welcomes us. 

When we encounter another, we find communion with God and receive the overflowing hospitality of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.[i]

Today, this is more important than ever. 

One of my favorite preachers, Diana Butler Bass, prophetically proclaims:

When the law fails to welcome and include, the practice of hospitality falls back to those who envision a truly accepting society — a community where all are welcomed and all are fed, a place of reciprocal generosity, humbled by the tender knowledge that (at any moment) we might be either host or guest.” 

The New Testament is clear. When Caesar’s law rules against hospitality to strangers, God’s people inveigh against such laws. We welcome everybody. We respect the dignity of every person. If you turn people away, you are turning Jesus Christ himself away.

The Cottage, Sunday Musings, Diana Butler Bass

“When the law fails to welcome and include, the practice of hospitality falls back to those who envision a truly accepting society — a community where all are welcomed and all are fed, a place of reciprocal generosity, humbled by the tender knowledge that (at any moment) we might be either host or guest.” 

The New Testament is clear. When Caesar’s law rules against hospitality to strangers, God’s people inveigh against such laws. We welcome everybody. We respect the dignity of every person. If you turn people away, you are turning Jesus Christ himself away.” 

Thank you, O God, for the hope that we can be a part of your plan for this world. Through Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

Commissioning and Benediction

Go out from this place with hope—hope that you can be a part of God’s plan for this world.  Move out now and reach out to strangers. Love your neighbors. Yes, even your neighbors who are different, even those who are downright scary. 

Because your neighbors are thirsty. 

Welcome, engage, touch. Embrace. Make yourselves vulnerable to another.

Go home and metaphorically make a sign to be placed out front where you live that reads: “Cold Cups of Water for All! #JustLoveYourNeighbor!”

And may the love of God, the grace of Christ, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with us all. Amen.

[i] Inspired and Adapted from William Willimon. “Risky Business,” Clergy Journal, Jun 26, 2005, vol 33, no 2, pp 53-56.

Mercy, Not Sacrifice

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year ALeave a comment
Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

It is indeed an honor for me to stand before a congregation that has the audacity to believe that we should only exclude those people Jesus excluded, and that is no one—a church that not only believes that God’s love is for all people, but believes God’s call to ministry is for all people, with no exceptions. 

This is one of the great truths revealed in our gospel lesson this morning where we read Jesus calling a tax collector for a puppet king of the Romans to be a disciple. The oppressive taxes alone were enough to alienate Matthew, but the fact that the taxes went to a foreign government made Matthew hated among the Jews. 

Jesus is calling someone the religious establishment despised to be a disciple. Matthew, and his friends, are deemed morally reprehensible by the religious culture, yet, Jesus chooses to sit down at the table and share supper with them.

I believe it is very important for us to notice where Matthew was sitting when this initial invitation from Jesus to be a disciples takes place. In the third pew on the piano side of the synagogue? At a table in a Sabbath School class? No, Jesus has an encounter with Matthew while Matthew is at work, sitting in a tax booth out in the marketplace. I believe this underscores another great truth: If the church truly wants to fulfill the great commission and make disciples, then we must learn to find ways to go out and meet people where they are, instead of expecting people to come to us, especially those who may not understand that we truly welcome them here.  

After the Pharisees disparaged Jesus for demonstrating that there are no exceptions when it comes to the love of God, Jesus, rather ironically, reminds these teachers of the law that they still have a lot to learn. Notice that it is to the teachers he says: “Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” “Go and learn what this means.”

The church today still has much to learn about how to truly be the church; however, perhaps the greatest thing we need to learn is this: that Jesus desires “mercy, not sacrifice.”

Jesús is quoting words from Hosea chapter 6 where we read the prophet speaking out against meaningless acts of worship, stating that what God truly desires is mercy, not burnt offerings, not sacrifices. The Hebrew word translated “mercy” is hesed, which denotes the love of God for us— a constant and consistent, compassionate and extravagant love that never gives up, gives in or gives out. 

And Hosea is not the only prophet who proclaims what God truly desires. In the first chapter of Isaiah we read: 

What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the Lord;
I have had enough of burnt-offerings…
… who [even] asked this from your hand? Trample my courts no more; 

Bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination…
   I cannot endure solemn assemblies… 
Your appointed festivals my soul hates;
they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. 
When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you;
even though you make many prayers, I will not listen;
   your hands are full of blood. 
Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes;
cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed,
defend the orphan, plead for the widow.

 Isaiah 1:11-17 NRSV

It is in the fifth chapter of Amos we read:

I hate, I despise your festivals,
   and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. 
Even though you offer me your burnt-offerings and grain-offerings,
   I will not accept them… 
Take away from me the noise of your songs;
   I will not listen to the melody of your harps. 
But let justice roll down like waters,
   and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

Amos 5:21-24 NRSV

And the prophet Micah asks: 

‘With what shall I come before the Lord…
Shall I come before him with burnt-offerings…
…He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
   and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
   and to walk humbly with your God? 

Micah 6:6-8 NRSV

“Go and learn what this means,” says Jesus, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” And it is then that we read about Jesus’ encounter with two people who need mercy. We read about Jesus healing a woman who was ostracized and otherized, deemed “unclean” by the powers-that-be as she had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. And then we read about Jesus restoring life to a girl who was dead, while the religious folks laugh and ridicule him.

I love corporate worship. I believe gathering together for worship is one of the great essentials of our faith. The word “church” is translated from the Greek word ecclesia, which literally means a “gathering” or “assembly.” And it is certainly good for us to gather.

However, what we need to learn is that our assemblies on Sunday mornings are meaningless to God without the unwavering and undeterred acts of mercy we are called to carry out outside these sacred walls during the week— acts of healing and of restoration, acts of liberation and justice.

When I was growing up in rural northeastern North Carolina, on Sunday mornings we had what we called, “Sunday School” at 9:45, and then we had what we simply called “church” at 11, which, of course, was the worship service. I should probably confess that I have not always loved corporate worship, for I will never forget how happy I was those times mama would announce on Sunday morning that we were eating dinner with grandmama, therefore we were going to Sunday School but then would miss “church.”

You know what I disliked the most about church? The preaching, of course!

And sometimes we even referred to worship or “church” as “preaching.” I remember asking: “Can’t we just go to Sunday School and skip preaching?”

Still today, when somebody today says: “I missed church last week,” what they mean is that they missed sitting in a pew listening to a sermon. Or maybe they missed singing some hymns. A Disciple might be saying they missed receiving Communion. The point is, that when we say that we missed church, more often than not, we are saying that we missed assembling here, in this building worshipping God.

I believe the prophets and Jesus want us to understand that “church” means much more, much more than our assemblies and certainly much more than this building. It means being the embodiment of Christ, the merciful hands and feet of Jesus in this world.

I believe God wants the church to create such a culture that if we say “we missed church last week”, we’re not talking about missing a sermon. We’re talking about missing an opportunity to love a neighbor as we love ourselves.

When we say “we missed church last week,” we’re not talking about missing Communion. We’re talking about missing an opportunity to feed someone who is hungry, or clothe someone who is poor, or give shelter to someone who does not have a home.

When we say “we missed church,” we’re not talking about not coming to this building, we’re talking about missing an opportunity to go city hall, travel to Richmond or to Washington to stand up and speak out for those who face discrimination, isolation and alienation. 

When we say “we missed church,” we are talking about missing an opportunity to bring healing and restoration to someone who has suffered spiritual abuse, or has been made to feel that they are outside the boundaries of God’s grace and God’s love. 

When we say “we missed church,” we are talking about missing an opportunity to bring abundant life to those who are treated as if they do not exist, forced to be called by their dead name. We are actually talking about raising the dead, despite the laughs and the ridicule we might receive from some religious folks.

“Go and learn what this means,” says Jesus, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice!”

Because when the voices of hate are loud, the world doesn’t need us to just go to church, the world needs us to be the church, to go out and show up as the church. The world doesn’t need us to only light a candle inside the sanctuary. The world needs us to be a light of mercy out in the darkness, a light that is so bright that it is bound to upset some religious folks!

When our children are being slaughtered by assault weapons, the world doesn’t need our prayers, the world needs our mercy.

When people are led by fear instead of by love, when queerphobic rhetoric in politics, and in many churches, is causing immeasurable suffering, when holy scripture is weaponized to support hate …the world needs our mercy. 

When a travel advisory against visiting another state is issued for our black and brown siblings, and when our trans siblings are denied healthcare and are unable to use a public restroom… the world needs our mercy. 

When reproductive rights are stripped from women, when greed is destroying the planet, when books are being banned, science is denied, truth is rejected, compassion is maligned, empathy is scarce and love is restricted …the world needs our mercy. 

When diversity, equity and inclusion, mercy itself, is outlawed, along with teaching our children the truth about racism, if there is one thing that we need to hear on this upcoming Juneteenth Weekend, is that our world needs us to go out, stand up, speak out, march, work, serve, fight and vote for mercy. Through our gospel lesson this morning, Jesus is imploring the church today on the behalf of the world to “go and learn what this means!” 

I believe this is the holy purpose of our Sunday morning gatherings here in this place, and this is why this time together here is so important, essential and sacred. In Sunday School and in worship, at and around the table, in church, we are to learn what it means to go out to be the church, to be the unwavering merciful, visible, demonstrative embodiment of Christ in this world. 

We are to learn what it means to go out into the marketplace to make disciples. We are to learn what it means to welcome those whom others fear and despise to the table. 

We are to learn what it means to heal the sick and raise the dead. 

We are to learn what it means to defend the orphan, plead for the widow, and rescue the oppressed.

We are to learn what it means to love kindness, to do justice and to walk humbly with our God.  

Through our gatherings in this place, together, we are to learn how to love this world as Christ loves this world. We come here to be refreshed and renewed, empowered and emboldened to go out and do all we can, with all that we have, to let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.

Amen.