Sermon for Year B, Proper 10: "Flawed Faith, Perfect Love"

Preached on Sunday, July 12th at Christ & Saint Stephen's Church. Lections this sermon is based on can be found by clicking here.

Our gospel reading today is taken from Mark, and Mark is the oldest of the four canonical gospels, written, it is believed but thirty years or so after Jesus’ execution, just around the time of the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in the year 66 -- and just as the persecution of the Christians by the Emperor Nero were beginning. The theme of discipleship runs throughout Mark, and some scholars believe that the gospel was written to help build up and encourage early Christians who were facing persecution and diaspora.

But rather famously in Mark, the twelve disciples “don’t get it”. Though the Twelve accompany Jesus throughout Galilee, hearing him speak with authority and watching him cast out demons, quiet the stormy sea and even raise the dead as he did with Jairus’ daughter in our gospel a few weeks ago; they continually fail to understand Jesus’ identity as the messiah, the Christ, and they fail to acknowledge the authority that Jesus’ possesses, which he tries to share with them -- at least in part.

It is interesting to note that throughout the first half of Mark’s gospel, the disciples fair pretty poorly when compared with the demons and unclean spirits that Jesus banishes from those who are possessed. Almost to a demon, the unclean spirits know who Jesus is, calling him the ‘Son of God,’ and ‘the Holy One’ and ‘Son of the Most High.’ But the twelve disciples only question Jesus, rather than proclaim him. They ask, ‘Who is this that has authority over the unclean spirits; that even the wind and the sea obey. Who is this? Where does his power and authority come from?’

Throughout Mark, the disciples appear to be comical, almost buffoonish in their misunderstanding. And yet it is these whom Jesus sends out to preach the gospel and to bring aid to the suffering, and it is to these that he gives tremendous power in order to carrying out that mission. But before we get into today’s gospel, let’s take a look at the prophet Amos… poor Amos.

It is the 8^th century BC in Palestine, and David’s once unified kingdom has been split in two, the northern kingdom of Israel with its capital at Bethel, and the southern kingdom of Judah with its capital at Jerusalem. This split will continue down to the time of Jesus, when the northerners -- then called Samaritans -- will be despised by the Judeans. In fact it is the events predicted by Amos in today’s passage -- invasion by the Assyrians, the death of Jeraboam and the forced migrations of nearly 30,000 Israelites -- that will come to pass, and will help solidify the split in the once united kingdom of David.

Amos has been plucked out of his everyday life in Judea and sent north to Israel, to warn of the coming invasion of the Assyrians. Now, Israel at this time had become quite prosperous. There was plenty of wealth among the people -- perhaps too much for their own good, and the people of Israel had begun to revel in their material success and in materialism, and they had forgotten the worship of God, and the dictates of God’s justice, especially to the poor and disadvantaged. Sound familiar??? So, God had decided to send Amos to make them mindful of their wrongs and to predict the onslaught of the Assyrians if they did not mend their ways.

Amaziah, the high priest in Bethel, doesn’t like Amos one bit -- nor his message. ‘Go home,’ he says. ‘We don’t need prophecies of doom from some foreigner. If you’re so hepped up to preach, preach to your own people.’ But Amos has been sent to be a prophet to Israel and to Israel’s king, not to Judea. It is Israel that God has measured with his plumb line and found “out of line”, and it is the oh, so successful, seemingly blessed kingdom of Israel that is in danger of toppling down. Amos says, “Look, I don’t know exactly why I’m doing this either. I was perfectly happy with my herds and my orchards. But the Lord sent me to prophesy to you – and that’s what I’m trying to do.”

Poor Amos. You can feel how uncomfortable he is in his prophetic role, being bandied about by kings and priests. I don’t doubt that Amos felt that he was not well suited to missionary work, not holy enough, not articulate enough, perhaps he felt he wasn’t a faithful enough Jew to do what God has called him to do. But he does it anyway.

Amos trusts in God and trusts in God’s will for him. And that is the underlying message of Jesus’ instructions to the disciples in our gospel reading for today. In our passage from Mark this morning, the Twelve disciples are sent out two by two, not as individual firebrands, but as companions, as a little community of two. They are to carry no bread or money -- for they must trust in God for their sustenance. They are to wear only one tunic, not a second one to use for warmth against the cold nights -- they are not to take what amounts to a sleeping bag, but are to trust in God to provide shelter for their mission. They are to stay at the first home that will offer them hospitality – and not shop around for the most luxurious accommodations or richest table to sup at. As our collect for today puts it, they are to trust in God for the grace and power to faithfully accomplish their tasks.

They know, as did Amos, that there might not be a warm welcome from those they are being sent to. And Jesus tells them what to do when they run into opposition. He tells them that when they don’t find a receptive audience, give up. Shake the dust of that town off your sandals, and try again. In other words, don’t condemn or harangue the unreceptive, but rather put them out of your mind, get them out of your system, and move on. For there are many who are hungry for the word of salvation. I think that very often we too feel that we’re not holy enough to be in the forefront of Christian mission. But in our gospel this morning, it doesn’t appear that extreme holiness or a deep and unquestioning faith are required for discipleship.

In fact, according to Mark, it seems that the opposite is true. It is to the Twelve that Jesus gives his commission to ministry. And interestingly, Jesus sends them out with authority to heal, not a command to convert. The disciples are sent out to help those who suffer, not to talk about God’s love, but to show it in action. We do many good works here at Christ & Saint Stephen’s. We feed the hungry, we help shelter the homeless. We are companions to the old and young alike. We work to preserve God’s creation. Whatever wealth we have been blessed with, we share with the church, with those in need throughout our neighborhood, our city, and throughout our diocese.

And that’s not all. For there are many of you who in contexts outside of the parish, do many other good works. You work on behalf of those with AIDS, you help find homes for abandoned animals. You help provide relief to refugees. You work on behalf of homeless children. You support the arts and artists. And all of this you do because you know that it is part of your Christian responsibility. You do it because these types of activities are your Christian mission. Like the twelve disciples, you seek to help others because you believe it is what God commands you to do. But if you’re like me, you can be bold in your good works, but a bit shy about your motivation. How often, when someone says to us, “Oh, I so admire the work you do for the environment,” or “for children in need” do we respond, “Well, I consider it my duty as a Christian” or more simply, “Thank you. i’m a person of faith, and that’s why I try to help others.”

I think we Christians would have a better reputation in early 21^st century America if folks knew that those of us ladling soup and protesting the genocide in Darfur were doing so because we are Christians. Far too often, we hear people claim their Christian faith in defense of what I believe to very unchristian acts, like anti-abortion terrorism and even assassination, and the denial of full civil rights to gays and lesbians and to the transgendered.

To ‘come out’ as Christians in our everyday lives and to name our faith when we carry out our good works isn’t easy. I don’t expect that for most of us it will be any more comfortable than it was for Amos. And, I’ll tell you something else. I don’t think we can expect to be particularly successful. There will be more times than not that our witness will fall flat or will go unheeded. But we know what to do, don’t we? Shake the dust off our Birkenstocks and our Crocs -- and try again!

For I believe that there are many who are hungry for the word of God as we live it out here at Christ & Saint Stephen’s. And I truly believe that there are many who are thirsting for the love of God as it is poured out in our midst, in the community and companionship that we offer here, in this place, both in the Undercroft at coffee hour, and in a few minutes in the meal we will share at this table. But all those who hunger and thirst for God’s love won’t find their way here unless we bring them in.

But it’s not easy to do. I know that. Just the other day I ran into an old friend at the Westside YMCA. He asked about my new job and how I was enjoying my ministry. I answered him with enthusiasm. But I didn’t do what should have been the obvious thing. I didn’t say to him, “Why don’t you join us some Sunday?” I’ll admit that standing around in my towel and not in my collar I was much more concerned with sucking in my gut that with sharing the word of salvation. But that’s too bad. It is a failing on my part. And I’m going to try to do better, and I hope you will too.

Just imagine if one day while you’re at the pet adoption van or at the holiday party for refugee children, someone says, “I admire your commitment.” And you respond, “Well, I do it because I feel that God wants me to serve others.” And just imagine if you hear, “Oh, really. Tell me more…”

Now, before I close, I want to be very clear about something. It’s an old debate in Western Christianity, whether it is our faith that God desires, or our good works. As reformed Christians, we proclaim that we are justified by faith, and not by works. That is most assuredly true. We may fail in many tasks, perhaps in all of them, but our faith in God and our hope of glory will not be disappointed.

But the message of today’s gospel is that even though our faith might at times be confused, it might at times feel doubtful -- as with the Twelve, we might not have it all figured out; but that does not disqualify us from acting on behalf of God and in the name of Jesus, to bring God’s justice to the world, to bring succor to those who suffer. And it just might be that our flawed faith as demonstrated in our efforts to help the poor and to win justice for the oppressed might help others to see that God’s love is meant for any and all. And they might follow us here to this place to find some share of God’s unconditional love -- and here they will find it. In our midst. For surely, that is what brought each of us here in the first place. +Amen.

(c) The Rev. Mark R. Collins