Sermon for Lent 2

I meant to post this yesterday, but I thought that two new posts in one day was plenty. The fascinating part, for me, was that I preached this in Iron River - the most conservative congregation I work with. I didn't feel like I had too much choice about that - the word came, and I preached it.

After the service, the woman I'd heard was most conservative met me in the receiving line and said, "Thank you for your sermon. I really appreaciated it." My articulate response was, "Really?" And she said, "Yes, You've really opened my eyes to [and here she dropped her voice] gay people. I mean, I've never thought about [and here, she whispered, sort of like those older women who can't say cancer out loud] lesbians like that before." Now, friends, I confess that I wimped out. I didn't ask her in WHAT way. I decided that she'd already taken enough of a step.

So, here it is:

When I first read this morning's gospel, I was touched by the behavior of the Pharisees. It seemed to me that they were doing a nice thing. They were coming to Jesus, telling him that he was in danger, and that he should head out of town before harm came to him. It was a level of care and concern that I had not previously noticed from the Pharisees.

But, the more I thought about the passage, the more suspicious I grew of their good behaviour. After all, the Pharisees -- and there are a couple of notable exceptions -- were not a collection of people who seemed particularly concerned with Jesus or his well-being.... Unless, of course, it impacted them. Then, they were concerned, not for Jesus, but for their own safety and security.

So, what's really going on in this passage? Why does it appear in the lectionary during Lent? What does it say to us on our Lenten journey?

To give the Pharisees a little credit, they were in a tough spot. They were stuck between the temple and the Roman leaders. In this time of social upheaval and foreign invasion, they located the idea of salvation in getting their religious practices right. They were the ones who were concerned with the right practice of the Jewish religion and putting forward a proper appearance. Their strong motivator was to keep the Roman invaders off the backs of the Jewish faithful. So, their behaviour was not entirely selfish. But, in the passage that we hear this morning, it seems that these Pharisees, were not so much about trying to protect Jesus from Herod, as they were trying to protect the faith and the faithful from the volatile Roman invaders. Their motivator was to get this radical troublemaker Jesus the heck out of Dodge!

Remember, that from the beginning of his ministry, Jesus placed the needs and best interests of the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, the victimized, and the imprisoned at the forefront. Particularly in Luke's gospel, he talks repeatedly about overthrowing authority and finding justice for the poor. THAT kind of talk was treason to the Romans - which is why we find ourselves at the foot of the cross on Good Friday.

It's so easy to throw rocks at the Pharisees. to judge them for their bad behaviour. To join in the chorus of voices throughout the millennia that have criticized and belittled them.
It's much harder to realize that we are they. Hence, I believe, this story's appearance during Lent.

The situation we are facing in the church right now isn't quite the same as it was just over 2000 years ago. Christians (or even Episcopalians) are not a minority religion in an occupied country. We aren't trying to shut up Jesus in order to protect ourselves. Instead, I fear that we are running the risk of trying to quiet controversy in order to protect "the church."

Take the current issue of homosexuality that is causing so much grief and angst in the Anglican Communion. Those who believe that gay and lesbian people should not be ordained, have their relationships blessed, or even be welcomed to the table want gay people to go away. They want to limit who can be in leadership in the church and who may have their relationships blessed. The truth is that there have always been gay and lesbian people in the church, but when gay and lesbian Christians stayed closeted, were ashamed and afraid, and were not honest about who they were as full people of God, the church could ignore them.

It's the same on the other side of the argument. Those of us who believe that gay and lesbian people are full people of God, whose sexual orientation is not a bar to ordination, the blessing or relationships or being fed at the table, secretly wish that folks who speak out against the full inclusion of gay and lesbian people would go away.

We would prefer to quiet the likes of Peter Akinola (the Archbishop of Nigeria, who has led the international fight against inclusion of gay and lesbian people), Martin Mynns (the former rector of Truro Parish in Virginia, who has recently been consecrated bishop in the Nigerian church and now leads the Nigerian "mission" to save the Anglican church in the US) and many Southern Cone Anglicans. Can't these people see that this is an issue of justice and inclusion? Can't they see that Jesus loved all people? We'd prefer a church focused on justice and mission, not caught up in fighting about who does and doesn't belong.

I think that it's safe to say that no matter which side of this (or any) debate we might have in the church, we don't much like controversy. We would far rather just pretend to be nice and get along. And when someone does come along who makes us uncomfortable, who makes us look at things we'd rather not see – people like Gene Robinson OR Peter Akinola, we wish they'd be quiet, go away, and stop causing trouble.

Frankly, it doesn't matter what the source of controversy is. Christians disagree about all sorts of things: the war in Iraq, the death penalty, the best way to fight poverty, the place of women in the church, the role of government, you name it. But whatever the issue, our call as Christians is not to sit quietly and hope to avoid trouble or to try to silence those who disagree with us. Our call is to speak out. Which is not easy to do. It's scary and risky.

Jesus also told the people that he longed to gather all of the people together, like a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. He doesn't long to gather the conservatives OR the gay people. He longs to gather everyone, together. And when that happens, then our divisions will cease.

Paul tells us, in his letter to the Philippians, that we are to imitate him – and to stand firm in the Lord. As we continue our journey through Lent, towards Holy Week and the cross, we are to look to Jesus, rather than the Pharisees as our example.

Jesus spoke the truth in love. With a few notable exceptions, Jesus did not rant or rave. He did not condemn people. He did not tell soldiers to stop being soldiers or prostitutes to stop being prostitutes. He ate with tax collectors and sinners. He allowed a woman of ill repute to anoint him with oil. He conversed with an woman of ill repute at the well and offered her "living water."
Jesus loved people for who and what they were. And when he did disagree with people, he generally did it with grace and gentleness. Jesus did not shy away from controversy and difficult situations. He did not worry about how others perceived him. He cared about justice and freedom and peace. And he spoke out clearly to get them.

Our call, this Lent - and every day - is to follow Jesus’ example with courage.