I don’t know how many of you know who Heidi Klum is. Heidi Klum is a very tall, slim, very beautiful fashion supermodel, originally from Germany. More recently, she’s known for being the host of the reality competition show Project Runway. On Project Runway, several would-be fashion designers are given challenges to create clothing. Near the end of episode, the designers’ creations are paraded down a runway, and judges assess the creativity and skills of each effort. The episode concludes when the judges banish the lowest performing designer from the show, leaving a smaller, more competitive bunch to do it all again next week. But not before Heidi Klum reminds the assembled designers, in her German-inflected English, “As you know, in fashion, one day you’re in, and one day you’re out.”
I’m fascinated with Project Runway. It seems to be a unique experience, because what you get to see on Project Runway that you rarely get to see elsewhere, is the process of artisitic creation. It’s intriguing to watch artists at work, conceiving of and then creating an artistic vision, bringing to fruition something that was only a dream to begin with.
In today’s gospel, we see a bit of Project Runway competition among the followers of Jesus. It appears that others have been working wonders by evoking Jesus’s name. But these miracle workers are not part of the Twelve, not part of the in crowd. And the in crowd is not happy about it. And it is John who gives voice to the concern. Interestingly, this is the only time the disciple John speaks in Matthew, Mark or Luke. And he speaks up to say, as if he were the Biblical Heidi Kulm, “In discipleship, some of us are in, and the rest of you are out!”
Well, not quite. The Lutheran scholar Richard Jensen in his book “Preaching Mark’s Gospel” recounts the admonition of one of his theology professors who said, “Whenever you want to draw lines in order to (delineate) who is outside the kingdom and who is inside, always remember: Jesus is on the other side of the line!” (149).
It’s as if the very act of drawing the boundary, setting up the fence, the process itself of parsing the flock separates us from God. Because whatever line we draw, we’ll find ourselves on the wrong side of it – and Jesus always on the other side, outside of the lines we draw, with the outcast and downtrodden, the mischaracterized and maligned.
Jesus makes the case for a very wide net, and very open door when he famously says, “Those who are not against us are for us.”
Then, Jesus takes the critical eye and turns it upon us. First of all, he says, Do not put “a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me.” In other words, don’t find fault with those just coming into the faith, and trying to find their way. Rather look to yourselves, your own shortcomings and sinfulness. Root out any impediments in yourselves, before, or really instead of, trying to root those who you might think don’t belong.
In the South, where I grew up, we have a saying. Be careful when you point your finger, cause when you do, there are actually three other fingers pointing back at you!
This faith thing, this Christianity thing… It’s an inside job, it’s one that is conducted within the heart and mind. It’s not about separating the good people from the bad ones, or the in crowd from the outsiders, or at least it’s not about that for us. God is our only judge, none others need apply. But it is about separating out the parts of ourselves, parsing our own hearts and minds, our sinfulness, our shortcomings, our fear, our anxiety, our faithlessness, maybe even our desire to be judgmental. And separating those things out of our hearts, so that we can love more fully, and serve God and God’s people more humbly and more gracefully.
We don’t need to judge others, we don’t need to separate sheep from goats. We don’t need to spend our time finding fault with anyone but ourselves.
What we do need, what we must have within us, is saltiness. That sense of flavor, and an absense of blandness; a sharpness, and a bit of bite. Some vibrance. Something that is definitive.
It is true, what Jesus says, that when the saltiness goes out of us, it’s hard to recapture. When it goes out of a community, it’s hard to rekindle.
Now, I’ve only been around Holy Trinity for about a week. But I don’t think I’m going too far out on a limb here to say, you’re a pretty salty bunch around here. There is something here, a certain flavor and taste and maybe even a little bit of bite to being a Holy Trinitarian.
This past week, I met with and talked with many folks and groups. And as a result, not many boxes in my office got unpacked, but that’s another issue. There are two meetings though, that really struck me. Last Sunday, the Liturgy and Music Committee met – for two hours! Not a long meeting really when you consider that the group meets only once a quarter. And the thing I couldn’t help but notice was, there was no room at the table. It was crowded with the leaders of the guilds and groups that make our worship happen and happen so beautifully. There were lots of experiences and opinions and ideas shared. Some differences of opinion, I’ll grant you. But the point is, the table was crowded with some opinionated, salty Holy Trinitarians, who care and care deeply about the worship of God in this place.
The next evening, the board of the Holy Trinity Neighborhood Center met. And once again, the table was crowded. There were hardly enough chairs for everyone. And again, there was some spirited conversation, and great ideas, and offers of support and help, and some opinions, some which differed with others. But gathered together were people who care deeply about serving God’s people, those who want to see the hungry fed, the homeless sheltered, and the elderly respected; people gathered together to ensure that at the Church of the Holy Trinity, everyone is in and no one is out.
There was much discussion and discernment among these groups, as you might imagine, that is their role. There was much self-examination directed toward making beautiful, inspiring worship more beautiful and fulfilling; and the determination to make joyful service to others more energetic and effective, and always joyful.
You never really know what you’re going to find when you begin a ministry in a new place. Especially when that place is in the midst of change. I’m very grateful to God that you haven’t let the saltiness go out of you. You haven’t let your care and commitment and your willingness to lead and serve go stale.
Saltiness, there’s some of that here, for sure. And it gives flavor to the Church of the Holy Trinity. There is a distinctiveness to the way we follow Christ in this place that is palatable, and satisfying.
And there is vision here, a dream that crowded tables of good Christian folk are trying to realize. Like the designers on Project Runway, a dream is being made a reality here. Around crowded tables of Christians who bring all their faith, and energy and saltiness to those tables, to help make the dream of a joyful, just kingdom of God a reality.
It is this… saltiness that, as today's psalm says, revives the soul, and gives joy to the heart, that is worth more than fine gold, that is in fact sweeter than honey in the comb. So, keep your saltiness… well, salty! And be at peace in your hearts and with one another. + Amen.
© The Rev. Mark R. Collins
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