Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (6B), June 17, 2018; The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

O God of Love, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

This morning we have lessons before us from 1 Samuel, 2 Corinthians, and the Gospel of Mark, but I want to start with a word about Paul’s letter to the Romans. Can you guess why?

Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the preacher who was ranting from the pulpit, which to a young child in the congregation, looked like a container, a box. After listening for a little while to the harangue, the little boy leaned toward his father, wide-eyed, and asked, “Whatever will we do if he gets out?” I have to tell you that the news this week about children being separated from parents who are seeking asylum at our borders is making me want to do some serious ranting. A BBC reporter this week cited a US Department of Homeland Security report that between April 19 and May 31, 1,995 children were separated from 1,940 adults. In response to the United Nations’ call to stop a practice which is considered a violation of human rights, the Attorney General of the United States cited Romans in defense of the government’s cruel practice. This is an example of evil being done on our behalf, for those of us who are Christians and/or US citizens.

Certainly it’s not the first time that the Bible has been used to endorse or condone evil and it won’t be the last. In this country we have a tragic history of separating children of color from their families, but the mean-spirited ignorance coming from those in authority in our federal government is appalling enough without the blasphemy of citing Paul’s letter to the Church in Rome. The Apostle Paul was writing at the beginning of the reign of the Roman Emperor Nero of all people, whose reign was notoriously extravagant and tyrannical, a man who was considered compulsive and corrupt, and a man who enjoyed popular support of Roman commoners. If Paul was sincere in believing that Nero’s reign was righteous and beneficent, Paul turned out to be wrong. [1] But I hear deep irony in Paul’s words about obeying governmental authority, because just six verses later, Paul summarizes the commandments and concludes with these words: “Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfillment of the law.” Love is the fulfillment of the law. The fulfillment of the law is Love.

And speaking of Love, as Jesus usually is, the verse that comes right before our Gospel portion for today, says that in the realm of God, the one who has will be given more and the one who doesn’t have, even what there is will be taken away – which is nothing. If the nothing that someone has is taken away, that person will be given something, right? It’s like a riddle – if the nothing that someone has is taken away, what does the person have? Something. How does it work? Well, Jesus says, it’s as if a sower would randomly toss spores on the ground, do nothing, and things would grow – no idea how. In Greek there’s a word for seed and a word for spore – this is spore. [2] I don’t know what their understanding of the difference was then, but spores are invisible and carried on the wind in nature. Spores are indiscriminate and so is the one tossing them. Then to amuse his puzzled disciples, Jesus reminds them of mustard, a weed that grows uncontrollably, into a scrubby shrub that attracts birds. A gardener’s nightmare is what the realm of God is like. It’s messy, it grows wild, it’s unstoppable once it takes hold. Oh, and by the way, according to the Mishnah, it was illegal to plant mustard any place where it could not be kept separate from other plants.

Whenever Jesus uses mustard seed growth as an example, he’s making his listeners laugh. He’s not giving an example of something tiny and precious. He’s laughing about the spice of life and saying that a little tiny bit is going to grow in abundance so watch out! But it’s not any old weed that he used for an example of the realm of God – it’s this amazing source of both flavor and of healing power, this mustard! The realm of God, the rule of love, is spicy, scandalous, wild, often illegal, and incredibly healing.

Jesus is calling his followers to laughter, and Paul, in 2 Corinthians, is calling Jesus’ followers not to lose heart. He is reminding them to live in love, and he is arguing that those who preach reconciliation must practice it themselves. [3] Despair is a privilege that Jesus followers can ill-afford. Living and growing in the love of Jesus will change us into a new creation. Love will change us. Love does change us. Love is already doing it.

I’m not going to spend much time talking about the founding narrative of the anointing of David, but I want to point out that this is a story of God’s regret about choosing King Saul, whose rule was marked by decisive failures. The bible tells us that Samuel grieved over Saul, and that God repented of the divine selection. God sends Samuel out, at considerable risk, to find the next king for Israel, while the current king was still alive. Youngest son of eight, a small boy, David was the outsider, the underdog, the outcast. David’s great grandmother was Ruth, an immigrant. His great grandfather was Boaz, whose ancestors included Tamar, nearly executed for adultery, and Rahab, a Canaanite prostitute. (They were all Jesus’ ancestors as well, by the way.) The enduring message of the Biblical narrative is that the unlikeliest people are called to be vessels of God’s grace in the unlikeliest places. [4] And it’s not just about the ancient past. Right now God, also known as Love, is searching for a new future among those parts of our world, our communities, our own selves that are dispossessed and marginalized. Love is seeking reconciliation with outsiders, underdogs, and outcasts within us and all around us.

Ina Hughes’ beautiful prayer poem about loving and caring for children was edited by Marian Wright Edelman, mighty advocate for the rights of children, founder of the Children’s Defense Fund. Edelman is an activist who knows that prayer is a good start, but we are called to do more than pray. Listen to these words powerful words and then figure out what you can do to answer this prayer:

We accept responsibility for children
who sneak Popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.
And we accept responsibility for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can’t bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never “counted potatoes,”
who were born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an X-rated world.
We accept responsibility for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.
And we accept responsibility for those
who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who can’t find any bread to steal,
who don’t have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
and whose monsters are real.
We accept responsibility for children
who spend their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don’t like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.
And we accept responsibility for those
whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren’t spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.
We accept responsibility for children
who want to be carried and for those who must,
for those we never give up on and for those
who don’t get a second chance,
for those we smother and for those who will grab
the hand of anyone kind enough to offer it. [5]

I ask you to join me this Father’s Day in accepting responsibility for children (you don’t have to be a father or even a man). The good news is that people at Emmanuel Church can help you take some meaningful steps. Consider getting involved with Episcopal City Mission – talk with Mike Scanlon, Joy Howard or Jane Redmont. Consider getting involved with MCAN – Massachusetts Communities Action Network – talk with Luke Abdow. Support Emmanuel’s involvement in the B-SAFE summer camp programming by giving money at the fundraising concert right after church today; and giving some of your time the week of July 9 — talk to Peggy Bradley or Margaret Lias. Let love be the fulfillment of the law. Let the fulfillment of the law be love.

← Back to sermons page