Proper 9C
July 7, 2019

O God of gentleness and redemption, 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 I want to focus our attention on our reading from Galatians, because we aren’t going to hear from this beautiful letter for another three years, and it’s one of the most important books in our Second Testament, theologically and ethically. We don’t know for sure, but it might be the second oldest document in our Christian scripture, probably written just after the year 50. Galatia was a large territory in what is now known as central Turkey. Paul was writing to a group of communities, not just to a gathering in one town or city. Here is the oldest document that asserts justification by faith and not works (works, in this case, mean circumcision for men and keeping dietary commandments – it doesn’t mean “good deeds”). The thing about justification by faith, though, is that, according to Paul, it’s the faith of or from Jesus Christ, not faith in Jesus Christ that saves us. It was Jesus’s faith, not his followers’ faith, and that’s a good thing, because as a group, we aren’t all that faithful. As far as I can tell, Paul never meant to suggest that we don’t have work to do in response to Jesus’ faith in God and in his followers.

If you were here or in another lectionary-following church last week, you heard Paul’s list of rotten fruits that are a consequence of separating from or refusing or hiding from the Love of God. And you heard the list of good fruits that come from receiving or leaning into and participating in the Love of God: joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, fidelity, gentleness and self-control. It is a statement of Paul’s hope for “something beyond exploitation, materialism and violence,” [1] which was desperately needed then, and I’d say, desperately needed still. There is no path to love because Love is the path, the way. There is no path to serving others because serving others is the path, the way.[2]

Do you have to become a Jew before you can become a Jesus follower? No. Did you have to know Jesus personally to be an apostle (meaning “sent” in his name)? No. You can fully participate in the freedom that comes from the faith of Jesus Christ to love and to serve. The law of Christ is fulfilled by bearing one another’s burdens. In his letter to the communities in Galatia, Paul angrily rants about his disagreements with other Jesus followers who have, in his opinion, been teaching distorted doctrine, trespassing on his territory, and causing strife for the communities. He’s furious that his community-building work has been undermined by his own associates in the Jesus movement. So his conclusion strikes me as particularly poignant as he gives his final advice about how to respond to another who is caught in a transgression, literally, a false step. I think that whether he is aware of it or not, he is preaching to himself. He writes, “You (all) who have received the spirit of Love from God, should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness.” Gentleness doesn’t mean passive or shy, but both firm and easy – as in, easy does it. Paul continues with the caution, ”do not be tempted yourselves.” Tempted to what? Tempted to join in? Tempted to return in kind their bad behavior? Tempted to dismiss the transgressions or the transgressors? Tempted to respond with harshness? Tempted to be condescending or cynical? I imagine all of those temptations at work (depending on the person and the day and the false step).

Paul writes, “you all, bear one another’s burdens – that is how you fulfill the law of Christ, or the rule of the redeeming Love of God, which takes what seems worthless, useless and senseless, and makes something valuable of it. That’s what redeeming means – revaluing what has lost its value. Bearing one another’s burdens, in addition to doing one’s own work – that is what Paul is calling all who have received the Spirit of Love to do. Paul’s teaching is exactly the opposite of the Christian triumphalism or denominational imperialism that so often quotes him. Paul’s letter to the Galatians is one of our Bible’s most powerful witnesses against excluding anyone from belonging to the community on the basis of criteria which are not rooted in Jesus’ own teachings.[3]

I was particularly struck this week with Paul’s description of the church as a family of faith – or loyalty or fidelity. Whenever someone describes the church as a family, I want to sigh and ask, can’t we do better than that? Every time I spend just spent a couple of days in Maryland with my extended family, I’m exhausted! It’s wonderful and hard work. We push each other’s buttons, move in and out of contention, tell stories at the expense of others in the room, and make plans to see one another again as soon as possible. Until she died five years ago, my maternal grandmother made her annual trip from southern New Mexico to our ancestral home, and now her youngest daughter carries on that tradition. The last time I saw my grandmother before she died, she said to me that she wished I didn’t have to leave so soon, I replied, “I have to get back to work – I’m preaching on Sunday.” She looked at me like I was about six years old and said, “I just don’t think of you as a preacher.” So sweet, because my younger brothers love to tell me that I’ve been preaching my whole life.

But today, maybe I’m more of a story teller, because I’ve been thinking about all of this and about Paul’s admonition to bear one another’s burdens in the context of Joy’s and my 15th wedding anniversary on Wednesday, which we are celebrating today with an ice-cream social as soon as our worship service is over. It made me want to tell you the story about when we were newlyweds and we went to Alamogordo, NM (a very conservative place) to visit my grandparents, aunt and uncle and cousins. Some of you have heard this story, but like so many good stories, I think it bears repeating. As we were planning our trip to the scrubby desert just north of El Paso, there was a lot of buzz in the extended family about how my grandparents would react to our marital status and whether they would accommodate us (my oddsmaker siblings and cousins weren’t giving us much of a chance). We were fully prepared to find a hotel room when we got there. Nevertheless, when we arrived, my grandmother showed us to her guest room double bed where she had turned down the bedcovers for us and left us little chocolate mints! 

It turned out that our bigger hurdle was what we were going to do on Sunday. The parish of St. John’s in Alamogordo was being led by an archconservative rector (whose name was, I kid you not, Father Orji), who regularly railed from the pulpit against homosexuality. The pews were littered with anti-homosexuality brochures. Most of you will remember that in 2004, the Episcopal Church was threatening to come apart at the seams because of the 2003 election of the openly gay partnered diocesan Bishop Robinson of New Hampshire. And at that point, the Diocese of Rio Grande still didn’t even ordain women. But my aunt and grandmother, who were the regular churchgoers in the family, really wanted us to go to church with them, and they asked me to wear my clerical shirt and collar. Gah. I had reluctantly agreed, but then was having serious second thoughts as I waited nervously in the living room with my grandmother and Joy for my aunt to pick us up for church. 

When my aunt’s car pulled up, my aunt and uncle got out of the car, all dressed up. As far as any of us knew, my uncle had never been to this church. He didn’t go to church. Just as he walked in the front door, my grandfather came down the hall from the bedrooms and he was all dressed up too. As far as any of us knew he had never been to this church either. He didn’t go to church. The two men stood in the living room staring at each other. My grandfather said, “where are you going?” My uncle said, “I’m going to church. Where are you going?” My grandfather said, “I’m going to church too.” Cowboy boots and string ties, dress pants and dress shirts, the two of them walked out the door, put their cowboy hats on, and wide-eyed and gap-mouthed, the rest of us followed. I don’t remember anyone talking in the car.

We arrived at the church and I could tell by the looks on people’s faces, that Joy and I were not the center of attention. My uncle and grandfather, without talking to anyone about it, had decided that no-one was going to mess with their women, and because no-one in the town had ever seen either of them go to church, the two of them provided the cover that Joy and I needed to just be ourselves. When it came time for communion, Father Orji invited me as his sister in Christ to come forward and administer the chalice. I’m not sure what was happening for anyone else in the room, but in my own heart and I know in Joy’s heart, the realm of God grew several sizes for us that day.

For everyone involved or witnessing that day, it seemed like the gentlest restoration, the most lovely bearing of one another’s burdens, of taking responsibility for our own work, and fulfilling the rule of redemption, that is, the law of Christ.  We were all, that day, a new creation, as Paul says: “So let us not grow weary in doing what is right,…whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith.” I’m here to tell you that I believe in the power of showing up, of gentle restoration, of taking responsibility for our own work and of fulfilling the rule of redemption. I’ve seen it. I want to lean into it – to live into it – to love into this new creation. I want you to lean into it – to live into it – to love into this new creation. It is everything!

So I want to ask you: where are you being called today to participate in gentle restoration, lovingly bearing another’s burdens, of taking responsibility for your own work, and fulfilling the rule of redemption, that is, the law of Christ? It will have something to do with showing up, standing alongside, stooping low, sticking with someone whose burden is weighty, and offering to help with or without words. It will have something to do with allowing another to do the same for you, because there is no path to love – love is the path. Bearing one another’s burdens is the way.