When the Big House isn't Big Enough
This is the manuscript copy of a sermon I gave at First Presbyterian Church of Lee's Summit on August 14th, 2011. The liturgy readings for the day were Isaiah 56:1, 6-8 and Matthew 15: 10-28. Please note that these are my speaking notes, not word-for-word what I said - although it is quite close. To listen to the audio, simply click the "play" button below.
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When I think back to my 5th grade Sunday School class with Mrs. Oshima, I have some very clear memories. One of those is of the picture of Jesus that hung on the wall. I’m sure you know the one - it has Jesus sitting on a rock under a tree, slightly glowing, with children kneeling around him and a lamb standing beside him. It is a very calming, pleasant image of our savior. When I think about the image of Christ from today’s New Testament passage, it is a very different painting - definitely not the glowing skin and flowing hair of my childhood.
I want to deal with the proverbial elephant that is currently hanging out back by the coffee. I’m not “Reverend Miller” - I’m Chris from the choir. I’m not going to pretend to have some amazing insight into WHY Jesus uses such strong language when interacting with the Canaanite woman; I have read four different commentaries on this text and between them they probably have about eight different explanations for this incident. Some suggest that it was a “radical affirmation of her personhood” to talk to her at all - showing the reach of the gospel to the Gentiles while others suggest it was most likely said with a hint of irony and sarcasm in Christ’s voice - acknowledging the tension between Jews and those of the local region. There are some that suggest Christ was being serious and the actions of the woman changed his perspective. I don’t know which, if any, of these perspectives is correct. Much like the email or text message that is taken out of context, without knowing Jesus’ tone of voice and facial expressions, we are left a great deal in the dark as to the true intentions of his words.
What I DO know is that by the end of the encounter Jesus is praising the woman’s faith and healing her daughter - and by the time we get to the end of Matthew, we have the Great Commission - the call to take the gospel to all peoples, even to the end of the earth. Quite simply, the Kingdom of God is for everyone.
As we look back to today’s text, we are still left with some interesting bits of information for discussion:
- Jesus & the Disciples travels to the region of Tyre & Sidon take them to a place that is very unfriendly to Jews - especially religious leaders. This would have been a very uncomfortable experience for all involved.
- The group is accosted by one of the regions residents, a woman no less, who according to the text shouts at them. Two social no-no’s at once.
- Not only does Jesus respond, but he heals her daughter & praises her faith.
When you consider this text with the added context of our earlier reading from Isaiah, “For my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.” an interesting picture begins to form: A clear message about the importance of fighting exclusion. I really like this message.
I like it mainly because I’m a nerd. I know, shocking. With a job title like “Director of Debate & Forensics” on my business card I’m about as close to a professional geek as they come without using phrases like “pocket protector” and “slide-rule holster.” As a nerd - a condition I have enjoyed my whole life - exclusion is a regular experience for me. Nothing kills break room conversation quicker than a stray Lord of the Rings reference.
However, I know my experiences are not unique. We all experience exclusion at some point in our lives - whether it is simply not having someone to sit with in the cafeteria or feeling like we no longer have anything of value to give to the world - we experience that feeling of not being important or fitting in. The good news is that the Bible is full of examples of Jesus opening the community of faith to outsiders - prostitutes, tax collectors, criminals, even a Roman military commander finds a place among Christ’s followers.
So, it would be easy to chalk this up to another example of “be nice to different people” and leave it at that. I could end the sermon here, we’d all feel good about ourselves because we talked about including others, we’d buy some posters about “being the change you want to see” with pictures of kittens on them - and life would be grand.
However, I genuinely believe the message of today’s readings goes beyond the “feel-good” platitudes of “Being Nice.”
Don’t get me wrong, we NEED to be nice - we need to be accepting of others - if we cannot agree to that then we have a much larger issue at hand!
But, “Being Nice” isn’t enough! We cannot just come to church every Sunday, have a cookie or two, sing some songs, and wait for society to wander in the door so we can “Be Nice To Them.” Jesus didn’t find a nice, comfortable place above a cafe in Jerusalem - you know, good view and an easy walk to the temple - and WAIT for the faithful to just show up. He could have done that - right? We know that in his appearances in the temple there were people drawn to him - so why not play it safe and comfortable - minister just to the “lost sheep of the house of Israel” and count it a success? Surely he would have had plenty of good, respectable followers that way!
He didn’t have to go to the fishing villages, the dirty roads, the mountain-tops.
Or did he? Maybe that’s the point.
Maybe God called him - and us - to take a less comfortable but more meaningful path.
As I wrote the previous sentence, the debate coach in me was waving his arms and saying “Wait a minute! You’re still in the world of motivational posters. What does this REALLY mean? What does that “more meaningful path” look like?”
That got me thinking about a song I heard for the first time at a youth retreat … a while ago. It’s a great song by the band Audio Adrenaline called “Big House.” The singer starts each verse with the phrase “I don’t know if you’ve got…” then inserts friends, possessions, family, etc. Then the chorus picks up “Come and go with me to my father’s house...it’s a big, big house.”
What a great vision - the Kingdom of God, an estate with a yard big enough for the best barbecue ever. Imagine your first time at the big house - the time a friend says “why don’t you come over to my place - you’ll love it.” It would be wonderful.
But, many times as we get used to the house - start thinking it’s OUR big house. We decide the big house needs a fence - and a gate - and maybe we don’t want just anyone coming to the party. After all, we have our image to think of.
Maybe the house isn’t quite as big as we thought.
I want to tell you a story about a friend of mine - his name is Reggie. As long as I have know Reggie he has loved the Chiefs - I doubt if even their performance this last Friday has dampened his love of that red and gold jersey. He likes to color, ride horses, play catch, and sign songs with his friends. More than anything though, he loves to dance. Every summer when I see Reggie at camp, he comes up to me and says “I love you, big brother.”
Reggie is 52 years old and lives in a group home for adults with developmental disabilities. I first met Reggie in 2002 near the end of my first summer working at Heartland Presbyterian Center. Our last week of camp was Service Partnership - a camp where we welcomed 50 adults with developmental disabilities and a group of high school age volunteers.
As the week approached, I was scared - plain and simple. I had no idea what to expect. I knew some of the campers couldn’t read, some couldn’t even talk. I found myself thinking at one point “Why are we wasting our time talking about God to people that can’t read the Bible - or even understand what we are saying!” But, I knew I had to do my job, so I tried to calm my nerves … and my doubts.
When the morning of check-in arrived, I was more nervous than ever. I was standing with several other staff members when the first van pulled up - with Reggie looking out the window. As soon as the van stopped, Reggie opened the door and got out. He took a quick look around, locked eyes with me, and in a shuffle-run that I would come to know well he made a bee-line for me. Before I knew it I was locked in a bear-hug of tremendous strength and Reggie was telling me how happy he was to be back at camp with his friends...friends like me.
It was a wonderful moment and I wish I could tell you that as Reggie hugged me my views on people with developmental disabilities changed forever and all of my fears and biases went away. However, that simply wasn’t the case. While there were many joyous moments, there were also many times where my doubts and fears resurfaced. I constantly found myself underestimating the abilities - and more importantly - the faith of the campers.
During my second or third summer I really thought I had it down - I knew what the campers needed and I was just the guy to give it to them. One morning during bible study I was explaining some finer point of reformed theology when one of my campers stopped me. He asked, “Chris - Why do I need to know this? God is good. Isn’t that enough?”
I was floored by the question - and it made me reexamine the assumptions I was making about our campers. Many of them had what Jesus calls in Matthew 18 a “simple and elemental” faith - and one that was much stronger, if less academic, than mine.
Over the next few years I was forced, time and again, to face situations that made me uncomfortable, challenged my faith and my understanding of what it truly means to be a servant of Christ. Somewhere along the line there was a change - this July was my 10th year working with Service Partnership, and the past 5 I have been the camp director.
Now, I don’t tell you that to show how great I am - quite the opposite. I hope that it serves as an illustration of what it can mean to open the metaphorical gate of our house and step outside. That big house can be very comfortable, but just as Christ didn’t run his ministry from the biblical equivalent of the corner booth at Starbucks, we cannot live out his call to ministry from inside our own comfort zones.
So what does that look like - stepping outside? I would contend it begins with a realization - a realization that the Kingdom of God is truly for Everyone. Not just people that look like us, not just people that are from the same social background as us, not just people who think like us, Everyone.
The Kingdom of God is for the weak, the broken, and the scared. There is not a single person on this planet that God desires to leave out of his glory - and here is the scary part: He has given us a job - the job of making sure every single one of them hears the good news.
That is our job. To share the Kingdom of God with every person we meet - no matter if we like them or not, no matter if we know them or not, no matter if we think they are worthy, or receptive, or good enough, or not. That is our job. And it isn’t just the job of the “mission team” or the “evangelism committee” or the more outgoing person three rows away. It isn’t just Sandra’s job, or the Session’s job, or something the General Assembly will take care of.
It’s my job. And your job. And your job. It is our job.
You don’t have to be a pastor. You don’t have to be a great public speaker, or have read the bible cover to cover, or have some amazing, life changing story. You just have to be willing to, as the disciples did, follow Christ into the uncomfortable places of the world - your own “region of Tyre & Sidon” if you will.
The great thing is we all can make a difference. I’m going to give you a simple way to start - you can do this starting as soon as I get done talking. For the rest of this week I want you to smile at everyone you meet and say “hello.” You don’t have to strike up a long conversation, or any conversation at all, just smile and say “hello.” And when I say everyone I mean it! The people you pass in the grocery store, the clerk at the gas station, even the mail-carrier walking down your street.
The great thing is that at the very least, you will spend your week smiling all the time, but just maybe you might meet someone who has been looking at our big house and wondering if they might find a place here.
Paraphrasing Isaiah:
Maintain justice, and do what is right. Join yourselves to the Lord, minister to him, love his name and be his servants, keep the sabbath and hold fast my covenant.
Maintain justice and do what is right. Imagine if everyone in the world did that. It would be a big house indeed.