 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| SERMON 14th Sunday of Pentecost September 6, 2009 The Rev. Charles W. Messer |
| 667 Mount Road, Aston, PA 19014 610-459-2013 |
| Small Parish - Big Heart The little church you've been looking for! All are welcome! |
| Our Mission: To worship the Lord To serve the community To grow the church |
| Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23 Psalm 125 or Isaiah 35:4-7a Psalm 146 James 2:1-10, (11-13), 14-17 Mark 7:24-37 |
To contact us: Calvary Episcopal Church 667 Mount Road Aston, PA 19014 610-459-2013 OFFICE The Rev. Charles Messer, Rector Fr. Chuck: frmesser@calvaryepiscopalrockdale.org Website: mail@calvaryepiscopalrockdale.org Office: calvaryoffice1@verizon.net |
This scene in the epistle of James gives us a lesson on favoritism. A wealthy
person comes to church in minks and gold rings is promptly ushered to the best
pew in the house, but a poor person who shows up in rags is relegated to the back
and forced to stand. If a church shows partiality like that, James warns, “you
commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors.”
I went to a preaching conference not too long ago and heard a speaker tell a story
how a friend of his came to church dressed as a homeless person. Ragged and in
disheveled clothes, her hair a mess, no one could tell this was a parishioner that
they knew well. Church friends who’d normally have greeted her cheerily in the
hallway turned their heads and wouldn’t make eye contact. When she wasn’t being
ignored, she was glared at, and, as she made her way toward the sanctuary, she
could sense the ushers tensing up for a possible confrontation. They seated her as
far way from others as possible.
There was an anxious moment when she stood up interrupting the
announcements. When she revealed who she was, everyone was in astonishment,
that turned into embarrassment, and finally to many apologies after the service. As
James says, this kind of partiality is sin, pure and simple.
But even the good lesson learned by this congregation isn’t nearly as radical as
the passage in James. In a well-educated, somewhat affluent, progressive
congregation, this text is typically heard as a call to impartiality, to even-
handedness. “What James is telling us,” we tell ourselves, “is that we should treat
people fairly—whether they are rich or poor, it shouldn’t make a difference. All
people are equal in the sight of God.
And that is true. Equality and even-handedness is a virtue. But James is talking
about something a whole lot more radical. Yes, he condemns partiality, but he isn’t
really advocating for neutral impartiality; in fact, he is trying his best to get the
church to display partiality, but of a different kind—the kind of partiality that God
expresses. The American image of justice is a blindfolded woman holding balance
scales. However, the biblical image of justice is about a God who blesses the poor
and the lonely and the widowed and orphans, sees everything and sets all things
right. God isn’t impartial; God chooses the weak and the poor over the rich and
important. God chooses the single mother trying her best to keep a job and raise a
family; God chooses the ex-con who feels uncomfortable by the looks of suspicion
boring into the back of his head; God chooses the ones who we normally
disregard and not pay any attention to. God chooses the weak in order to establish
justice.
The problem is, as James describes it, is that the way it seats people for worship
expresses the world’s form of justice: where God has chosen the poor over the
lifestyles of the rich and famous, the church has done the opposite. James
indicates that fawning over big shots with big money in God’s Church is not only
stupid but also a denial of the true wealth of baptism, in which the poor, the weak
and the lowly are transformed into the royal family of God.
Calvary church will not show impartiality, we will be very partial, we will favor a
certain type of people than others. We will roll out the red carpet and reserve the
best seat in the house to those whom the rest of the world sees as worthless.
Calvary isn’t called to even-handedness but instead proclaim the gospel of Jesus
that discloses the worth of all people. James’s point isn’t to encourage the ushers
to smile and greet everyone equally toward all who come to church. Instead James
reminds us that in God’s economy, the very ones for whom the rest of the world
has little regard for have become the guests of honor in the household of God.
That’s good news. No longer do we need to put on false airs and pretend that
everything is hunkey dory in our lives that we’ve got it all together. We don’t have
to pretend that we’re scared that the all of the bills won’t be paid this month or that
behind the pretty our pretty exterior is an empty shell full of disappointment and
brokenness. Instead of pretending to have it all together, Jesus calls you here to
Calvary saying, “Come unto me all of you who are sick and tired of being sick and
tired and I will give you rest.” That is good news. That’s why we come here Sunday
after Sunday. God doesn’t have a whole lot of patience for those who think they’ve
got it all together. The book of Psalms says that the sacrifice of God is a broken
and contrite heart in which he will not ever turn away from. God favors those kinds
of people. Calvary favors those kinds of people.
Amen
person comes to church in minks and gold rings is promptly ushered to the best
pew in the house, but a poor person who shows up in rags is relegated to the back
and forced to stand. If a church shows partiality like that, James warns, “you
commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors.”
I went to a preaching conference not too long ago and heard a speaker tell a story
how a friend of his came to church dressed as a homeless person. Ragged and in
disheveled clothes, her hair a mess, no one could tell this was a parishioner that
they knew well. Church friends who’d normally have greeted her cheerily in the
hallway turned their heads and wouldn’t make eye contact. When she wasn’t being
ignored, she was glared at, and, as she made her way toward the sanctuary, she
could sense the ushers tensing up for a possible confrontation. They seated her as
far way from others as possible.
There was an anxious moment when she stood up interrupting the
announcements. When she revealed who she was, everyone was in astonishment,
that turned into embarrassment, and finally to many apologies after the service. As
James says, this kind of partiality is sin, pure and simple.
But even the good lesson learned by this congregation isn’t nearly as radical as
the passage in James. In a well-educated, somewhat affluent, progressive
congregation, this text is typically heard as a call to impartiality, to even-
handedness. “What James is telling us,” we tell ourselves, “is that we should treat
people fairly—whether they are rich or poor, it shouldn’t make a difference. All
people are equal in the sight of God.
And that is true. Equality and even-handedness is a virtue. But James is talking
about something a whole lot more radical. Yes, he condemns partiality, but he isn’t
really advocating for neutral impartiality; in fact, he is trying his best to get the
church to display partiality, but of a different kind—the kind of partiality that God
expresses. The American image of justice is a blindfolded woman holding balance
scales. However, the biblical image of justice is about a God who blesses the poor
and the lonely and the widowed and orphans, sees everything and sets all things
right. God isn’t impartial; God chooses the weak and the poor over the rich and
important. God chooses the single mother trying her best to keep a job and raise a
family; God chooses the ex-con who feels uncomfortable by the looks of suspicion
boring into the back of his head; God chooses the ones who we normally
disregard and not pay any attention to. God chooses the weak in order to establish
justice.
The problem is, as James describes it, is that the way it seats people for worship
expresses the world’s form of justice: where God has chosen the poor over the
lifestyles of the rich and famous, the church has done the opposite. James
indicates that fawning over big shots with big money in God’s Church is not only
stupid but also a denial of the true wealth of baptism, in which the poor, the weak
and the lowly are transformed into the royal family of God.
Calvary church will not show impartiality, we will be very partial, we will favor a
certain type of people than others. We will roll out the red carpet and reserve the
best seat in the house to those whom the rest of the world sees as worthless.
Calvary isn’t called to even-handedness but instead proclaim the gospel of Jesus
that discloses the worth of all people. James’s point isn’t to encourage the ushers
to smile and greet everyone equally toward all who come to church. Instead James
reminds us that in God’s economy, the very ones for whom the rest of the world
has little regard for have become the guests of honor in the household of God.
That’s good news. No longer do we need to put on false airs and pretend that
everything is hunkey dory in our lives that we’ve got it all together. We don’t have
to pretend that we’re scared that the all of the bills won’t be paid this month or that
behind the pretty our pretty exterior is an empty shell full of disappointment and
brokenness. Instead of pretending to have it all together, Jesus calls you here to
Calvary saying, “Come unto me all of you who are sick and tired of being sick and
tired and I will give you rest.” That is good news. That’s why we come here Sunday
after Sunday. God doesn’t have a whole lot of patience for those who think they’ve
got it all together. The book of Psalms says that the sacrifice of God is a broken
and contrite heart in which he will not ever turn away from. God favors those kinds
of people. Calvary favors those kinds of people.
Amen
