Episcopal

Church of the Incarnation

Sermon - Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 21 - B
Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29
Psalm 19:7-14
James 5:13-20
Mark 9:38-50
9/27/2009

In 1942, as World War II was raging, British author George Orwell wrote an essay entitled "Pacifism and War." He was addressing those who refused to become involved in the war, who said they were pacifists and thus chose to remain outside the struggle. But Orwell didn't believe this was possible. He said, "If you hamper the war effort of one side you automatically help that of the other. Nor is there any real way of remaining outside such a war as the present one. In practice, 'he that is not with me is against me'. The idea that you can somehow remain aloof from and superior to the struggle, while living on food which British sailors have to risk their lives to bring you, is a bourgeois illusion bred of money and security." For Orwell, there were only two sides in the war: for us and against us. And if you weren't actively engaged in helping the Allied troops, then you were working against them - if in no other way, then by consuming imported goods which were delivered at great peril by sailors crossing into war-torn seas.

If you aren't for us, you're against us.

If your loyalty to us - to our country or our family or our football team - isn't complete, then it's no loyalty at all, and you are our enemy.

It's a common view these days. You're either a Carolina fan or you're on the side of Clemson... and you probably kick puppies and pinch babies, too. You're either an Episcopalian or you're hateful and small-minded and not capable of thinking for yourself. You're either my dear friend or you're a potential threat, someone I approach with suspicion and caution. If you aren't for us, you're against us.

It was a common view in Moses' day, too, as well as in Jesus' day. Both men receive reports that people not among the small group of specially chosen and anointed disciples are doing powerful things in God's name. In both cases, the disciples feel they must be stopped. They worry that if these people aren't part of the band of close disciples, their words and deeds are suspect. If they aren't for us, they're against us. But Moses and Jesus both say to their disciples, "it isn't that simple. People aren't black or white. They're a mass of contradictions: faith and fear, generosity and spite, wisdom and naiveté all jumbled together. If you only accept God's work when it's done by totally faithful people, then you won't have much to accept."

Jesus says, "Whoever's not against us is for us." Unless someone's pure evil, totally working against us in every way at all times, then they're for us. Even if there's only a tiny glimmer of good, Jesus says they're good. That sounds like something Jesus would say, doesn't it? But how does it hold up in the real world?

For example, we expect to encounter Jesus in other Episcopalians, but might Jesus also speak to us through a Baptist? Or a Jew? Or a Muslim? Is anyone or anything in the created order beyond the realm of God's providence and revelation?

One of my favorite movies is "Leap of Faith." In it Steve Martin plays a con man with a rap sheet a mile long. His latest racket is holding tent revivals - big, elaborate, lucrative tent revivals. When one of the semis transporting his equipment breaks down, he decides to set up shop in Rustwater, Kansas and hold a revival. After all, they'll need to pay for repairs to the truck. Rustwater is a depressed and depressing town. Since the factory shut down, most of the town is out of work. And they're having a drought, so farmers are losing their shirts as well. Steve Martin - "Josiah Nightingale" - sees an easy mark for his "Miracles and Wonders" tour. So his operation sets up shop - and what an operation it is! Members of the crew pass among the crowd listening in on conversations among those gathered. This information is logged into computers so the production director can feed it to Nightingale through his earpiece as "revelations from God" during the show. "The Lord tells me you're worried about your daughter." A woman who came alone from another town is seated in a wheelchair "so you'll be more comfortable." Later Nightingale will "heal" her and she'll stand up and walk and nobody from Rustwater will realize she could walk all along. And then there are the special effects - lights and smoke - even the enormous crucifix is rigged to weep blood on cue. Of course, the entire elaborate show is designed to make money. After each amazing miracle or healing, they pass the buckets and ask these poor people to give all they have as a show of faith. Josiah Nightingale perfectly exhibits everything cruel and selfish that has been done in the name of Jesus.

But here's the astounding part: God works through this horrible shyster. A little boy is actually healed at the revival one night, and the drought ends when it really begins to rain. Jesus defies the prevailing world view and acts through a con man.

The Bible is full of these stories. Moses encountered God in the burning bush and led the people of Israel to freedom. But he was only on that combustible hill because he had killed a man and was hiding from the authorities. Abraham, the great patriarch of Israel, lied about the identity of his wife Sarah, placing her in great danger, in order to save his own hide. And Peter, the rock on whom the Church is founded, denied three times that he even knew Jesus in order to avoid ridicule or possible arrest.

Jesus has never taken Orwell's point of view, associating only with the holy and pure. Rather, he works through murderers and liars and con men, the selfish and weak and tainted. Thank goodness - or I'd be out of a job - we'd all be out of our job as Christians. And Jesus wouldn't be able to work through people at all, because there isn't one of us who's a fitting vessel for him. The miracle - the gospel "good news" - is that Jesus works in and through us anyway. In fact, when Paul complains to God about the mysterious thorn in his flesh, which he feel makes him an unfit vessel for Jesus, God replies, "'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness'" (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Working through us - through liars and cheats and con artists - is not Jesus' back-up plan, but is how Jesus intended to bring about the Kingdom of God from the first moment of creation. Jesus never planned to be present only to a select few carefully recruited and trained disciples. Rather, Jesus aims to work through surprising people and in shocking ways to redeem the whole world. Or job is not to try to squelch that activity but rather to rejoice in it, wherever and however we find it. George Orwell would have us trust only a small group whose motives are totally pure. But Jesus would have us fling open the doors and lift our eyes from the pavement to embrace the fullness of the family of God and to see God at work in all things and through all things. Perhaps even through Clemson fans!

Amen.