The First United Methodist Church of Napa, CA

June 10, 2007

Second Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Readings:

Hebrew Scriptures – 1 Kings 17: 8-24¹

⁸Then the word of the LORD came to [Elijah], saying, ⁹“Go now to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon, and live there; for I have commanded a widow there to feed you.” ¹⁰So he set out and went to Zarephath. When he came to the gate of the town, a widow was there gathering sticks; he called to her and said, “Bring me a little water in a vessel, so that I may drink.” ¹¹As she was going to bring it, he called to her and said, “Bring me a morsel of bread in your hand.” ¹²But she said, “As the LORD your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.” ¹³Elijah said to her, “Do not be afraid; go and do as you have said; but first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterwards make something for yourself and your son. ¹⁴For thus says the LORD the God of Israel: The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the LORD sends rain on the earth.” ¹⁵She went and did as Elijah said, so that she as well as he and her household ate for many days. ¹⁶The jar of meal was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail, according to the word of the LORD that he spoke by Elijah.

¹⁷After this the son of the woman, the mistress of the house, became ill; his illness was so severe that there was no breath left in him. ¹⁸She then said to Elijah, “What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance, and to cause the death of my son!” ¹⁹But he said to her, “Give me your son.” He took him from her bosom, carried him up into the upper chamber where he was lodging, and laid him on his own bed. ²⁰He cried out to the LORD, “O LORD my God, have you brought calamity even upon the widow with whom I am staying, by killing her son?” ²¹Then he stretched himself upon the child three times, and cried out to the LORD, “O LORD my God, let this child’s life come into him again.” ²²The LORD listened to the voice of Elijah; the life of the child came into him again, and he revived. ²³Elijah took the child, brought him down from the upper chamber into the house, and gave him to his mother; then Elijah said, “See, your son is alive.” ²⁴So the woman said to Elijah, “Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the LORD in your mouth is truth.”

Gospel – Luke 7: 1-17²

¹After Jesus had finished all his sayings in the hearing of the people, he entered Capernaum. ²A centurion there had a slave whom he valued highly, and who was ill and close to death. ³When he heard about Jesus, he sent some Jewish elders to him, asking him to come and heal his slave. ⁴When they came to Jesus, they appealed to him earnestly, saying, “He is worthy of having you do this for him, ⁵for he loves our people, and it is he who built our synagogue for us.” ⁶And Jesus went with them, but when he was not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to say to him, “Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; ⁷therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed. ⁸For I also am a man set under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes, and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes, and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and the slave does it.” ⁹When Jesus heard this he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd that followed him, he said, “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.” ¹⁰When those who had been sent returned to the house, they found the slave in good health.

¹¹Soon afterwards he went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. ¹²As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. ¹³When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, “Do not weep.” ¹⁴Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” ¹⁵The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. ¹⁶Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has risen among us!” and “God has looked favorably on his people!” ¹⁷This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.

“What Was Dead Has Been Brought to Life.”

So many of the situations in which Jesus found himself, oddly enough, called upon the people in those situations to reexamine the whole realm of their preconceptions: how they were guided by them, how they move us all into making snap judgments or prejudicial assumptions, into simply being unfair or acting out of ignorance.

It’s like the story told of a man driving his car on a country road one day when he came across a woman pointing wildly (presumably at him) and shouting, “Pig!” Being a man of urban experience he sticks his head out of the window as he whizzes past her and yells back at her, “Cow!” But just as he turns the corner he nearly plows into an 800 pound pig rooting in the mud in the middle of the road.

Why is it that we still continue to struggle with those who are not like us – who we consign to the outer darkness, or at least wouldn’t welcome into our fellowship? The noted Irish-born playwright, George Bernard Shaw is quoted as having said:

The only man I know who behaves sensibly is my tailor. He takes my measure anew every time he sees me. All the rest go on with their old measurements and expect me to fit them.³

Isn’t this the way that far too many of us go about handling our relationships with those outside of our circle: categorizing, labeling, putting people in “boxes,” instead of taking their measure a second, even a third, time? All too often we choose to identify ourselves only by our measured differences – ourselves from the other and emphasizing “who’s in” and “who’s out.”

In our gospel stories Jesus “measures” the centurion and his slave, the widow and her child, differently than his culture did and as almost anyone else would have reacted to them. But it’s these strangers, these outcasts, who find the true meaning of shalom: healing, health, wholeness, well-being…peace.

If we’re to define holiness as inclusion instead of exclusion – and I do, since God is holy and the reality of God embraces all of creation – then signs of our holiness will include the sanctuary movement sheltering “illegal” immigrants, care of the dispossessed represented by the clients of the Hope Center, and the breaking down of all barriers among ourselves as Christians as well as the artificial divisions between us and those of other faiths. The very word “alien” would then be as foreign to us as “enemy,” and we would work to live together – “no longer strangers and aliens,” but “citizens…and also members of the household of God.”⁴

As the latest bill on immigration has been stymied, once again, by partisan wrangling in the United States Senate,⁵ maybe you all ought to know what the standing of The United Methodist Church is on immigrants. A portion of our Book of Resolutions reads this way:

Our Christian roots are centered among people who were sojourners in the land. Throughout history, people have been uprooted under conditions similar to that of Mary and Joseph, who were forced to flee to save the life of their son. Most of our own forefathers and foremothers were immigrants to this country. The Bible is clear about how we should treat these wanderers:

When strangers sojourn with you in your land, you shall not do them wrong. The strangers who sojourn with you shall be to you as the natives among you, and you shall love them as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt… (Leviticus 19:33-34, RSV)

Immigrants come to the United States because communities throughout our world are suffering from war, civil conflict, economic hardships, environmental destruction, and persecution for political, religious, ethnic, or social reasons. They come seeking food and shelter-refuge, but instead they are met with closed doors and detention centers fueled by attitudes of racism, fear or hatred of foreigners and hostility. Immigrants with or without legal status are vulnerable to human rights abuses starting with coyotes, or people who provide illegal transportation into the United States to the sub-standard working conditions and low-wages that swell business profits. Often immigrants are forced into prostitution and other forms of illegal work in order to pay their transportation debt.

For these reasons, we stand firmly opposed to state or federal legislative action such as the federal Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act of 1996, California s Proposition 187, or any similar legislation which discriminates against immigrants….⁶

This time marked on the church calendar as the time “after Pentecost” is a time of mission. Empowered by that Spirit of Easter we reach out with the good news of Jesus to all people. We invite all people into the community where this gospel is proclaimed and celebrated, communities in which people may come to encounter the healing touch of that same Jesus for themselves.

We’ve been learning once again that if we really are going to do this – if we’re going to invite people to come to church – we need to welcome those strangers who respond to our invitation. The irony of all of this is that in thinking of ourselves as progressive we’re actually recovering the sense of hospitality that was a standard feature of Jewish and even early-Christian life.

A place for the stranger, the foreigner, was an integral part of Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem. The Temple may have been the crowning achievement of Solomon’s costly building program – and it certainly was intended to embellish his reign and serve as a national shrine – but the Spirit of God is no respecter of persons and will not be captured in a building or by any particular ethnic group. Solomon himself prayed in his prayer of dedication that when a foreigner comes and prays in this temple, the God of Israel will hear that person’s prayers.

I see a connection between that message and Jesus’ healing of the centurion’s slave. The centurion is also a foreigner and yet somehow he finds himself attracted by the presence and power of the Holy Spirit made known in the life and ministry of one Jesus of Nazareth. And so Jesus deals with him as he dealt with all “outsiders” – with extraordinary grace. He offered them hospitality; he granted their requests just as it was promised that the prayers of foreigners and unbelievers would be heard – in a house meant for all people.

If you were to study the traditions of the Semitic peoples you might be surprised to find that their tribes included, from early on, not just free tribes people of “pure blood,” but also people who had no political rights at all. Strangers or sojourners in a position where they couldn’t depend upon the defense and support of their own tribe, were extended the protection of another. Ancient Arab tradition confirmed the promise of protection in a sanctuary where, in a sense, it meant that God became the protector of the stranger’s cause. This is how a building such as the one you’re seated in right now came to be called a sanctuary, because a church – of all places – ought to be a safe place, affirming that those who come to “seek sanctuary” in a church will find it.

As far as the widow is concerned, in an age without social security, welfare, or Medicare, children were the elderly’s only hope of security. A widowed woman was especially dependent upon the support of her children. This poor soul in our gospel lesson for today is not only twice bereaved – of her husband and now of her only son – but she’s also lost her “meal ticket.” Her son’s financial obligations to her – a cornerstone of this primitive economic system – have been taken away from her.

But her tragedy isn’t just an economic one; in a far more devastating way the widow experiences the death of her son as a sign that she’s been forsaken by God. In ancient times parents looked for immortality in their children – especially male children. Now, suddenly, horrifyingly, without a past or a future, she’s certain that she’s about to be cast out under the spell of eternal damnation.

Into just this situation someone stretches out a hand offering her shalom and restoration. How can we be such a hand that offers hope to the hopeless? Where are you and I called to be in places and situations that seem even to have been abandoned by God? What criteria should we use to determine whether our choices represent “the gospel truth” or not? I’d suggest that we’re in trouble just as soon as we claim that a person is barred from the path to salvation simply because of something that she or he is. This is what gave rise to sexism, racism and the rejection of others based solely upon their sexual orientation. You can’t set foot in this temple because you’re a woman. You can’t be a part of God’s people because you’re a gentile. You can’t become a member of my church because you’re gay.

A contemporary fraud being perpetrated upon people as the gospel truth in some churches, oddly enough, is related to the “self-help” or so-called “recovery” movement. That movement, according to Wendy Kaminer in her book I’m Dysfunctional, You’re Dysfunctional, divides all humanity into two possibilities. You’re either “in recovery” or you’re “in denial,” and these are, respectively, the equivalents of being offered the hand of salvation or being thrown out, a pathetic and lost soul.

The problem is that anytime salvation is contingent on my having to do something, it will always turn out to be bad news. There is no guarantee that I can stay on that straight-and-narrow road to recovery, that I won’t let down my guard and slip back into whatever addiction or bad experience I’m suffering from. Salvation doesn’t come by observing laws (Paul knew that.), not even the spiritual laws of twelve-step programs. If we believe that we are loved, that we are worthwhile human beings, then we are.

Jesus seems to have been impressed by the Roman centurion’s faith. But it was his slave who was healed; and as far as we know, his slave didn’t demonstrate any faith at all. He didn’t have to. In our relationship with the Holy, everything is grace. Love is inclusive. And precisely because I know that it is, that it embraces outcasts and strangers, I know that it embraces me. There shouldn’t be any tension at all between our outreach and our message. What happened to widows of Sidon and Nain and to a nameless slave of the empire has happened to us. What was dead has been brought to life. How can we ever again deny it?

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