Sermon from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, CO The Rev. Dr. David Bahr Luke 19: 1-10 “Little Luther” October 30, 2016 1-4 Then Jesus entered and walked through Jericho. There was a man there, his name Zacchaeus, the head tax man and quite rich. He wanted desperately to see Jesus, but the crowd was in his way—he was a short man and couldn’t see over the crowd. So he ran on ahead and climbed up in a sycamore tree so he could see Jesus when he came by. 5-7 When Jesus got to the tree, he looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, hurry down. Today is my day to be a guest in your home.” Zacchaeus scrambled out of the tree, hardly believing his good luck, delighted to take Jesus home with him. Everyone who saw the incident was indignant and grumped, “What business does he have getting cozy with this crook?” 8 Zacchaeus just stood there, a little stunned. He stammered apologetically, “Master, I give away half my income to the poor—and if I’m caught cheating, I pay four times the damages.” 9-10 Jesus said, “Today is salvation day in this home! Here he is: Zacchaeus, son of Abraham! For the Son of Man came to find and restore the lost.” The Message He’s faithful. He’s fiery. He’s Little Luther! With his quill, his cap, and his German Bible, this Little Luther Playmobil® is ready to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. He’s the fastest-selling toy in Playmobil history, so order him now before he runs out! According to the product overview: This little 3″ Martin Luther, created by Playmobil®, is just as popular in plastic as he was in person. Dressed in his 16th century academic robes and sporting a neat brown bob and little floppy cap, Little Luther stands ready to help celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation. Are you? “Little Luther” costs $9.99–why, that’s less than ten dollars!–and is ready to ship now.[1] Today is the 499th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation – marked by the occasion of Martin Luther nailing the so-called 95 Theses to the door of the church in Wittenberg; which makes me think, shouldn’t Little Luther be carrying a hammer and a really long scroll? The 95 Theses are officially known as “Disputation on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences.” Selling a Little Luther doll, or action figure, seems about as counter to the Reformation as it gets. (Of course, that didn’t stop me from pulling out my credit card to buy a Little Luther for myself.) But one of the biggest objections of the reformers had to do with the practice of commercialization, selling things – specifically, indulgences. People paid money for indulgences as a way to gain forgiveness for their sins. People even bought them to cover the sins of the dead. Luther condemned this as an example of an abuse of authority by the Pope and priests, who, he claims, are only interested in money. A few of those 95 statements include
Reading through all 95, they become somewhat repetitive, but one thing is clear: Luther is angry at what he considers the abuses of the church, especially related to money. He wasn’t the only one. Similar protests were taking place in cities throughout Europe. Most of the United Church of Christ traces its heritage to the reformers John Calvin in Geneva and Ulrich Zwingli in Zurich. Large numbers of followers of Calvin and Zwingli became known as the Reformed Church, while followers of Luther, as you can probably guess, became Lutherans. We have some of both in our UCC family tree. But, you might be asking, what does any of this have to do with us? Who cares? It’s often said that one should know his or her history in order not to repeat it. So I look at this time, the 499th anniversary, as an opportunity to consider whether any of the issues that birthed a reformation then hold any importance today. Not to judge abuses of authority or power. But to recognize that underneath the surface, then and now, the issues were really about grace and faith. Luther taught: faith, salvation, forgiveness… none of it can be bought, which seems pretty straightforward. It’s certainly not by anything you can buy from a pope or a priest. But it also cannot be earned, which is a little different. It comes by grace from God alone. Still, what does that have to do with us? I think a temptation for social justice Christians may be in placing our faith in doing the right thing. And perhaps, defining our faith by our correct alliance with certain social issues. We can even reduce our participation in social justice as the definition of a good, faithful Christian. Often indistinct from good citizenship. Sometimes social justice Christianity can resemble the platforms of a political party instead of faithfulness to the Gospel. Luther said we cannot earn faith from right actions. But that may be exactly our temptation at times. We can elevate actions that demonstrate faithfulness as equal to the simple grace of God behind it all. No, Martin Luther reminded us. Faith comes through grace, not by action. Even as we quote James – faith without works is dead – we must remember – works without faith can ring empty and may soon lead to burnout and compassion fatigue. If our primary definition is an identification with social justice, we risk reducing God to talking points. But,
Faith without works may be dead, but works, actions, without faith may prove to be empty. And unsustainable. Keeping us busy but not filled with the love of Christ. Perhaps that calls for our own reformation in social justice churches. As in the Reformation 499 years ago, once again, the issues are really about grace. Luther is angry at what he considers the abuses of the church, especially related to money. The story of Zacchaeus in the Gospel of Luke deals with anger and money too, but maybe not in the way we’ve always thought. I remember the story of Zacchaeus all the way back from my Sunday School days, and little figures of Zacchaeus cut out of felt, but I want to read the story again because I learned something this week I hadn’t known before. Jesus entered and walked through Jericho. There was a man there, his name was Zacchaeus, the head tax man and quite rich. He wanted desperately to see Jesus, but the crowd was in his way—he was a short man and couldn’t see over the crowd. So he ran on ahead and climbed up in a sycamore tree so he could see Jesus when he came by. What do we know about Zacchaeus? He’s wealthy. He’s a tax collector. And short. So short he has to climb a tree to see Jesus. He longs to see. But weren’t you taught that he was also a crook? That the reason Zacchaeus was rich was because he was corrupt? That he took more than his fair share? The text doesn’t say that. But, I can imagine, he not only wants to see. He longs to be seen too; not seen like the crowd always treats him – like a collaborator with the occupying force in Rome – but like a person, which is why he was so surprised when Jesus called out to him. 5-7 When Jesus got to the tree, he looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, hurry down. Today is my day to be a guest in your home.” Zacchaeus scrambled out of the tree, hardly believing his good luck, delighted to take Jesus home with him. Everyone who saw the incident was indignant and grumped, “What business does he have getting cozy with this crook?” The whole reason we might have thought that Zacchaeus was corrupt was because of the crowd’s reaction. They call him a crook. But that’s because no one working for Rome could be a good person. People see him and think he’s the enemy. And so they grumbled. I’ve confessed before that Art and I love to watch reality TV. One of our favorite shows which is no longer on the air was Parking Wars. Cameras followed the daily activities of meter maids and tow truck drivers – people going about doing their jobs. But they might as well have been collaborators with the Nazis for the kind of hatred and vitriol they had to endure on a daily basis, not just while writing a ticket or securing a boot but walking into a deli for lunch. People felt free to yell all kinds of nasty things at them. It was/is shocking. They had been trained to take the abuse, but it wore at them. They worked for the evil empire and as long as they did, they were the enemy. But if you have mouths to feed and bills to pay, how do you give up a steady job? 8 Zacchaeus just stood there, a little stunned. (After all, he knew how much people hated him.) He stammered apologetically, “Master, I give away half my income to the poor—and if I’m caught cheating, I pay four times the damages.” Almost every translation of this text implies that Zacchaeus WILL give away half his income and, because he HAS been caught cheating, he WILL pay back four times. It makes Zacchaeus sound like the transformed villain. That is how I’ve always heard this story, but scholars such as David Lose note that Zacchaeus already does this. There’s no indication Jesus forgave him and told him to change his life. He already gives generously – half his income, in fact. Eugene Peterson is among the few translators who uses the Greek word here correctly. According to David Lose, Luke’s purpose in this story is to show how the crowd that hates Zacchaeus is actually the villain. Jesus isn’t confronting Zacchaeus. He is confronting the crowd. And then rubs it in… 9-10 Jesus said, “Today is salvation day in this home! Here he is: Zacchaeus, son of Abraham! (in other words ; just like you) For the Son of Man came to find and restore the lost.” What a scandal! Jesus declares salvation to the house of Zacchaeus. Not because he has promised to change his ways but because he is an outcast. The kingdom of God is for the poor and oppressed and, like Zacchaeus, also the misunderstood and reviled – among them, even Roman collaborators. Once again, Jesus rubs it in the nose of the religious authorities who think they are the deserving ones. That must have really stung. Jesus loves meter maids and IRS agents, and telemarketers, and defense lawyers, and sheriff’s deputies who remove the elderly from their homes. And members of Donald Trump’s campaign team. People whose jobs make them villainous, no matter whether they are a good person or not. Guilt by association. That’s good news. It wasn’t because Zacchaeus promised to give away half his fortune or because he promised to make restitution to those he allegedly defrauded. Jesus proclaimed salvation because Zacchaeus was Zacchaeus. Not for what he did but who he was: A beloved child of God. He had done nothing to merit grace except attempt to see and be seen by Jesus. That’s the meaning of the Reformation. The Protestant Reformation sought to change the equation – not by what you do but by whose you are. Now, sometimes that leads to inaction – to let the needs of the world pass us by. That is why social justice Christians are a gift to the rest of the Church. To call us to accountability in the world. To proclaim: Faith without works is dead. But on the flip side, we must remember that action without faith may soon feel dry. Faith is more than being a good person or being a good citizen. Reformation faith calls us beyond doing the right thing to experience the mystery of grace in simply being you – a child of God. [1] http://www.patheos.com/blogs/geneveith/2015/06/get-your-little-luther/
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Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] October 23, 2016 “What and Who Really Matters” Luke 10: 25-37 – Common English Bible A legal expert stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to gain eternal life?” 26 Jesus replied, “What is written in the Law? How do you interpret it?” 27 He responded, “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.”[a] 28 Jesus said to him, “You have answered correctly. Do this and you will live.” 29 But the legal expert wanted to prove that he was right, so he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 Jesus replied, “A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. He encountered thieves, who stripped him naked, beat him up, and left him near death. 31 Now it just so happened that a priest was also going down the same road. When he saw the injured man, he crossed over to the other side of the road and went on his way. 32 Likewise, a Levite came by that spot, saw the injured man, and crossed over to the other side of the road and went on his way. 33 A Samaritan, who was on a journey, came to where the man was. But when he saw him, he was moved with compassion.34 The Samaritan went to him and bandaged his wounds, tending them with oil and wine. Then he placed the wounded man on his own donkey, took him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day, he took two full days’ worth of wages and gave them to the innkeeper. He said, ‘Take care of him, and when I return, I will pay you back for any additional costs.’ 36 What do you think? Which one of these three was a neighbor to the man who encountered thieves?” 37 Then the legal expert said, “The one who demonstrated mercy toward him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” Advisors to Martin Luther King, Jr., asked him, “Why them? Why bother with the garbage men of Memphis?” They argued he shouldn’t get involved in the local struggle of striking sanitation workers. They told him to focus on the bigger picture. And you should focus on more sympathetic characters, like elderly women beaten on the bridge in Selma or the little children bitten by dogs in Birmingham or teens slammed against buildings by the power of fire hoses. Or white people. Scenes of white people being clubbed at lunch counters in North Carolina or standing outside burned out busses in Georgia. That’s what gives the movement sympathy. When he “veered” off into opposition to the Vietnam War, he really angered supporters who felt he had gone way too far off message. Why were striking garbage men in Memphis of such importance to Dr. King?[1] Well, the back story started when white residents in Memphis objected to seeing garbage men eat their lunch outside their trucks (or ‘picnicking’ as those who objected called it). So the workers were told to eat in their truck – but the cab wouldn’t accommodate a crew of four people. One rainy afternoon, two of the workers sat in the protection of the back of the truck to eat their sandwiches. Some kind of malfunction caused the truck’s huge crushing arms to come down, killing them in the back of the truck. Because residents objected to the mere sight of the garbage men eating. That was just one in a long string of indignities too many.[2] It was the night before Dr. King was assassinated that he explained “Why Memphis. Why them?” He answered by telling the story of the Good Samaritan. Who is my neighbor? When President Franklin Delano Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066 in February, 1942 – on the 18th, Japanese Americans were our neighbors. On the 19th, they weren’t. Neighbor was set against neighbor. An elderly woman told how when she was a little girl she played and went to school with all different kinds of friends, but one day she came home and watched as the Army posted signs that gave her family 48 hours to pack up. They were to be transported to internment, or rather, concentration camps throughout the west. Her neighbors said nothing. But her neighbors weren’t set on edge on February 18th. Years of anti-Asian propaganda by newspapers and politicians fueled fears. Legalized prejudice by such measures as the Asian Exclusion Act in 1924 made 1942 possible.[3] Who is my neighbor? In sharp contrast, Colorado Governor Ralph Carr stood out for his fierce defense of Americans of Japanese descent, calling them “fellow citizens” and refusing to allow internment camps in the state, protecting Japanese Coloradans, defying widespread fear mongering, ignorance, and scapegoating. He promptly lost his next election.[4] But, he asked, and answered, who is my neighbor? You’ve probably heard of Oskar Schlindler, a member of the Nazi party, who spent his own fortune to save 1,200 Jews from the gas chambers in Auschwitz. And maybe even Raoul Wallenberg, a Swedish diplomat, who saved more than 100,000 Jews by giving them false passports. You might not have heard of Chiune Sugihara. He was a Japanese Orthodox Christian who spoke Russian and served in Finland and China. As a diplomat at his post in Lithuania, he signed over 300 visas a day, saving 6,000 Polish Jews.[5] There were many smaller examples: Corrie Ten Boom and her Christian family hid Jews in a counterfeit room in their house, just as Miep Gies, an Austrian woman, hid Anne Frank and her family in an Amsterdam apartment. And just who is my neighbor? Meanwhile, anti-Semites in the US succeeded in limiting Jewish immigration just as they were being placed in ghettos, leading up to camps and gas chambers. Such sentiment was fueled by demagogues like the radio priest Father Charles Coughlin who talked about Jewish bankers and their efforts to seize control of the world; a poll in 1939 found that more than half of those interviewed agreed with the statement "Jews are different and should be restricted," an early example of encouraging a “complete shutdown until we know what the hell is going on.” With that kind of pressure, Congress in 1939 refused to raise immigration quotas to admit 20,000 Jewish children fleeing the Nazis. The wife of the U.S. Commissioner of Immigration remarked at a cocktail party, "20,000 children would all too soon grow up to be 20,000 ugly adults."[6] And just who is my neighbor? Pastor Martin Niemöller famously said, First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out-- Because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out-- Because I was not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out-- Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.[7] Love in theory is lovely. You shall love the Lord your God, blah, blah, blah. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. Blah, blah, blah. Or as they would say on Seinfeld – yada, yada, yada. Sweet tender nothings. High flowery, flowing rhetoric. Love in theory is lovely. But love in action is dangerous. And costly. Yet love in action is exactly what matters. The guy in the story Jesus told wants clarification, maybe to be let off the hook, maybe not, so he asks “And just who is my neighbor?” Jesus said, “Your neighbor is exactly who you don’t want to be your neighbor.” Love them. There are plenty of contemporary examples. But it occurs to me that love won’t be love until Democrats love Donald Trump and love won’t really be love until Republicans love Hillary Clinton. Impossible? The Samaritan was one of the most reviled and difficult examples Jesus could possibly have used. What really matters isn’t who our next president is. We will survive no matter who it is. The bigger concern is how our nation will heal from the beating and bashing we have endured for so many months. No matter who wins, more hate won’t heal us. Only love can do that. Difficult as it is, can we love one another? Who is my neighbor? Can we avoid gloating, berating, vilifying, and stereotyping the “other.” And it isn’t just something the other guy must do. Who was the hero in the story of the Good One? In your own life, who can you immediately picture? The one with whom you emphatically will not speak. The one whose side you simply cannot accept. The cousin, the co-worker, the neighbor down the street – the one person you absolutely cannot stand will be the one who comes to your rescue. Dr. King said love won’t be love until garbage men are our neighbors. Oskar Schindler and Raoul Wallenburg and Corrie Ten Boom and Miep Gies said love won’t be love until Jews are our neighbors. And when it comes to love, that’s all that matters. Not the theory but the actions. Jesus said, Love your neighbor as yourself. And in every age we must keep asking “But just who is our neighbor?” It matters that our music ministry not only sings and plays for our own enjoyment in worship but that they sing and play for the elderly residents of Dayton Place and clients and community of the Denver Inner City Parish. Love for our neighbors, as much as for ourselves. It matters that our youth ministry not only gathers to talk about faith and have fun bowling and navigating a corn maze but that they go far out of their comfort zone to be present to the realities on American Indian reservations. Love for our neighbors, as much as for ourselves. It matters that we don’t just collect money for someone else to serve our neighbors who are homeless but that we ourselves offer food and shelter here in our own building. And our Fair Trade Gift Market matters because it serves the people and organizations in Denver and around the world for whom that economic uplift makes a difference in having a place to live. Love for our neighbors, as much as ourselves. It matters that our prayers include not just our friends and loved ones, and our own needs, but that we name and pray for Syrian refugees, and Palestinian Christians, and undocumented immigrants, and people living with mental health challenges. Those we fear the most, those most in the shadows… Throughout scripture, to God, they are the ones, our neighbors, that matter the most. Who is my neighbor? For the last couple of weeks we have been asking and posting the hashtag #WhatReallyMatters. The answers to what really matters to me @ParkHillUCC have included:
Remarkably, they articulate exactly the point: Who is my neighbor? And they state What Really Matters. Which, I submit, means Park Hill Congregational UCC really matters. You matter. I matter. Who we are and what we do together really matters – having a vision of and living the embodiment of Christ’s love. So as a church community earlier this year we committed to a vision of: 1) Forming the lives of children and youth into a faith of compassionate Christianity. That really matters. 2) Practicing justice as a religious expression – social, economic, racial justice. That really matters. 3) Finding a place for everyone to participate in ministry. That really matters. 4) And the faithful stewardship of all our resources – from our building to our people to our future, a strong foundations so that our kids are still serving our neighbors. That really matters. And so that is why we are invited today to invest in that vision, to love our neighbors together as the church of Jesus Christ. Not only in words but in our deeds. Not only in lovely theory but in costly action –
Because it really matters. [1] Richard Lischer, “The View from the Ditch,” Duke Divinity School, February 7, 2011 [2] For more on the context, http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/encyclopedia/encyclopedia/enc_memphis_sanitation_workers_strike_1968 [3] Steve Yamaguchi, “Who is My Neighbor,” www.day1.org, July 15, 2001 [4] http://www.coloradovirtuallibrary.org/digital-colorado/colorado-histories/20th-century/ralph-carr-defender-of-japanese-americans/ [5] Steve Yamaguchi [6] https://www.gilderlehrman.org/history-by-era/world-war-ii/resources/immigration-policy-world-war-ii [7] https://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId=10007392 Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] October 9, 2016 “Can I Get an Amen?” Luke 17: 11-19 – Common English Bible “On the way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten men with skin diseases approached him. Keeping their distance from him, 13 they raised their voices and said, “Jesus, Master, show us mercy!” 14 When Jesus saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” As they left, they were cleansed. 15 One of them, when he saw that he had been healed, returned and praised God with a loud voice. 16 He fell on his face at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. He was a Samaritan. 17 Jesus replied, “Weren’t ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? 18 No one returned to praise God except this foreigner?” 19 Then Jesus said to him, “Get up and go. Your faith has healed you.” How many times do you suppose my mother has mentioned that one of my relatives, whom I shall not name, hasn’t yet sent a thank you note for her wedding gift? Six years ago. Or, for that matter, any birthday gift. Or Christmas gift. Or new baby gift. (That one I understand) I’ve lost count, but I know that every time a new occasion arises, she saddens and thinks, “Maybe I shouldn’t even bother.” But that just goes against the grandma code, so every time, she reluctantly but dutifully sends another check. That’s what grandmas are supposed to do. So you better believe we don’t let this happen. We are far from perfect, but we’ve told Lance that it’s against the law to cash a check until a thank you is in the mail. But a non-attention to thank yous irritates me too. I instant messaged my same relative about 6 or 9 months after the wedding. I wrote “just checking to see if you got our gift.” Her response. “Yeah, just busy.” She didn’t catch my little passive aggressive attempt to trick her into saying “Oh, and thank you.” But Leper #10 did. He ran back to say “Thank you.” Ex-Leper #10. The one who was labeled the stranger, the outsider, the foreigner, the alien. Those are all words used by Jesus in various translations to shock his listeners. He only stopped short of calling this man “illegal.” Jesus praised this foreigner, a Samaritan on the wrong side of the border. As I have been noting week after week, Jesus’ words were always meant for multiple audiences: praising someone as unexpected as a “Samaritan” had the dual effect of calling out the hypocrisy of proper religious types. Remember the story of the “Good” Samaritan? Same kind of shocking effect. Like the “Good” Mexican Muslim Refugee. Or, to be fair, the “Good” Deplorable in the basket with others who cling to their guns and their religion. Jesus may have asked “where are the other nine,” but his question was less about the motives of those who did not return. His question indicts the system that treats some people like outcasts. Then, and now. There is more to this parable than some Dear Abby advice. If you do this parable justice, it raises a lot more questions. For example, I want to know why the Samaritan didn’t go off with the others. One possible explanation reminds me of the movie The Breakfast Club. A bunch of high school students who had nothing in common found common ground during Saturday detention. The athlete, the brain, the criminal, the princess, and the basket case. By the end of the day, they were nearly friends. They certainly bonded in a way they didn’t expect. But when the brain asked the princess what would happen when they saw each other in the lunch room on Monday, she acknowledged, despite their newfound solidarity, she would probably ignore him. In the end, all they shared in common was a Saturday in detention. So, one explanation might be that even though his status as a leper was “fixed,” like all the others, the Samaritan was still considered unclean just for being a Samaritan. But again, it wasn’t Jesus’ intention to shame the nine. It was to praise the one. Is this a lesson for us to write more thank you notes? Or is this a lesson about the scandal of God’s ever expanding circle of grace? Good news? Or bad news, depending on your perspective? What about the rest of us in the middle watching the scene unfold? I think the message could be about the power of gratitude. But more about that later because I still have questions, like what happened to the other nine? Here are some possibilities: Ex-Leper #1 was so busy dancing and smiling and caressing her soft smooth skin that she got lost staring at what had been restored. Leprosy literally destroys your skin. You’re covered in sores. She sat down under the shade of a big tree and touched her face, overwhelmed by her beauty regained. Ex-Leper #2 was frightened and looked for a place to hide. Was it the divine or the devil, some black magic, playing a trick on him? He was frightened. Ex-Leper #3 was offended. It was too easy. Just like back in Elijah’s day when Naaman, an enemy leader, asked to be cleansed of his skin disease. Elijah sent word that he should wash in a pool seven times. Instead of being grateful, he was angry that he hadn’t been given a more difficult regimen to complete. Some complex set of rules by which he could earn his healing. Ex-Leper #3, along with Naaman, believed that you had to work for what you get. She didn’t want what she hadn’t earned. #1 was preoccupied. #2 frightened. #3 offended. Ex-Leper #4. Like someone or something, human, animal or bird; like anyone released from a cage, he raced home to be reunited. He might have even skipped the priest part, which wouldn’t have been a good idea. A priest was required to certify that someone was clean and therefore able to return to community. It wasn’t absolution but a public health duty assigned to priests. Eventually #4 might have gotten around to thinking about how his healing happened. But for now, he was simply free of his cage. Ex-Leper #5 wondered “Who am I without this disease?” She wasn’t sure it was all a good thing. She had long ago set aside the dream of a home, a family, a “normal” life. Being a leper was her identity. It shaped her destiny. Now she would have to reinvent herself all over again. It came with some sad irony. Ex-Leper #6 didn’t think Jesus had anything to do with his healing. Yes, something happened, but there had to be a perfectly logical reason why. Some man, whether prophet, rabbi, or wizard, couldn’t have done this so he went off to learn more about cases of spontaneous healing. Anything that might make more sense. He was unconvinced. But Ex-Leper #7 didn’t return precisely because she was convinced. She believed that Jesus healed her – which meant the Kingdom of God was coming in the next few minutes. To return to give thanks would have taken away precious time from telling more people about the good news. She was convinced and ready for the in-breaking of the Kingdom at hand. Ex-Leper #8 didn’t return to give thanks because he was tired of everyone expecting him to thank them for their piddly little coins and reluctant mercy. There is something that happens to a man who must beg for food. There is something that happens to a woman who is shunned by people who think they are better than her. There is something that happens to a man who is told he must have done something to deserve his disease. Wicked, cursed, sinful. Surely there was a reason. He must have been having unprotected sex or sharing needles or any one of a dozen more excuses people gave him for why he must have his disease. Or hungry or homeless. What happens when someone throws a few coins at you and says, “You better be grateful I’m giving you anything.” He just didn’t want to thank anyone, even Jesus. Ex-Leper #9 followed Jesus’ instructions. He said go show yourself to a priest. She did. And then went home. Every one of them had their lives transformed from “what they had been” to “what they could be.” You know what that means? Something shifts and now, having been shunned, you’re welcomed in. Having been misunderstood, you’re forgiven. That kind of thing… Every one of those ex-lepers, all of them once outsiders, had their lives transformed from “what they couldn’t do” to “what they now could.” But even so, I bet they probably all suffered a little survivor’s guilt, too. Why them? Me. Why not all lepers? And so those ten ex-lepers had issues to work through and baggage and challenges to face with their newfound status in the world. But, in addition, there were probably still people who saw them for what they had been, not who they had become. Maybe that’s happened to you too. Former inmates struggle with some of these issues upon release, especially those who were exonerated, found not to have committed the crime for which they were sentenced and imprisoned. Bryan Stevenson wrote one of the best books I’ve read in a long time – Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption. Bryan represents prisoners on death row. Men, women, and yes, children who had served as convenient targets, repeatedly based on their race, but always based on their income. One of the best lines from the book is “Capital punishment means them without the capital get the punishment.” Although income doesn’t exclude a Black man from being stopped and frisked in the “wrong” neighborhood. It happened to Bryan outside his own house. Just like Henry Louis Gates. One of the main stories is about Walter McMillian, convicted and sentenced to death in 1987 for the murder of a young white woman in Monroeville, Alabama. There was no tangible evidence against Mr. McMillian so his trial lasted only a day and a half. Three witnesses with implausible and conflicting stories testified against him. His counsel offered no objection. But the testimony that he was at a church fish fry at the time of the crime – 12 alibis, all black – were ignored by the jury that had systematically excluded all black citizens. In minutes, the jury sentenced Walter to life without parole. But the judge, named Robert E. Lee Key, overrode the jury and sentenced Mr. McMillian to death instead. One more outrageous detail. He was held on Death Row before his trial, before being convicted and sentenced to death. Bryan Stevenson took on Mr. McMillian’s case post-conviction. It took years and multiple appeals and denials trying to present the evidence that the State’s witnesses admitted to lying on the stand and that the prosecution had illegally suppressed exculpatory evidence. Mr. McMillian's conviction was finally overturned. He was released in March 1993 after spending six years on death row for a crime he did not commit. With the advent of DNA testing, as we know, an alarmingly frequent development. But… but, but… freedom did not bring him freedom from judgment. Despite having absolutely no evidence tying him to the crime, white residents in town still believed he did it. His business never recovered. The trauma of being on death row contributed to a downward spiral of paranoia and divorce and dementia. His remaining years were a sad tragedy. As grateful as he was for the work of his attorneys, they saved him from death, but he never actually regained his life. Like the ex-lepers, when granted his freedom, Walter too might have been overwhelmed or frightened or offended at the mere idea he should be grateful. He too might have been like a bird freed from its cage but sad and even unconvinced it was true. He might have been ready to move on or too angry to move on. He might have done exactly what he was told. Or maybe he would have gone back to say thank you. We really are faced with a lot of options when doors previously closed to us open unexpectedly. Yet, something of this magnitude happens to us nearly every day. We simply don’t notice… Or if we do, think, well, God had nothing to do with that. It was my skill. My intellect. Luck. Fate. And therefore, how often do we return to say thanks? So first, write your grandma or mama or auntie a note to say thank you. Or anyone else, for that matter. In fact, keep a stack of thank you notes on your desk and, every morning, before opening your email, think of someone who deserves it. Before moving on to anything else, say thank you. We really aren’t that busy. And we aren’t that important. No one is. Say thank you, and then remember, the issue in this story wasn’t the missing “thank you” of the nine. The message of praise to the Samaritan outsider stood as a word of scorn for the authorities on the inside and the systemic treatment of those deemed “foreigner,” “stranger,” “alien” – or anyone, you know, not normal. Not like us. But there is another message for those of us who stand in the middle watching the scene unfold. Just watch what happens to the Samaritan who returned.
Now, as a member of the frozen chosen, I’m more comfortable writing a note to Jesus than shouting Amen, Hallelujah, Thank you Jesus! So this passage pushes me to recognize that our gratitude might need a little more punch. The Samaritan shows how the power of real gratitude can knock us off our feet. Do we dare? Hasn’t God done something in your life that requires some praise and alleluia? Sometimes I just have to laugh because our singing sounds like a dirge. (sounding sad) “Sing your praises, Alleluia.” We need more joy in our singing. (joyfully) “Sing your praises, Alleluia.” Where’s the joy?! Where’s the Alleluia!? Where’s the Thank you?! Can I get an Amen?! Above: Walter McMillian (hand raised) upon being released |
AuthorI love being a Archives
March 2024
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