Sermon for Sunday, 4 October 2015

* A note about this sermon: 

Sometimes preachers preach things they themselves need to hear. On this particular Sunday, I preached God's radical love for all people--for ourselves in all our failings, for our neighbors, and even for our enemies.

In the wake of recent terrible violence and ongoing injustice and oppression in Jerusalem and in this land, I confess that I am angry, and sad, and not feeling particularly loving to my neighbors. 

My heart is hardened this week.

In short, I need Jesus. 

So this sermon is as much for me as for you. 

+ CBS

Sermon for Sunday, 4 October 2015

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

Pastor Carrie Ballenger Smith

Mark 10:2-16

***

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Yesterday morning it was my joy and privilege to baptize 4 month old Sofie right here in this font. I was assisted by Sofie’s smiling older brothers who eagerly helped by pouring the water, taking off baby Sofie’s little white hat, and drying her head with a special cloth. It was a joyful moment, a great way to spend a Saturday morning, and of course a fitting image to accompany this week’s Gospel lesson, in which Jesus welcomes children with open arms and blesses them.

But it’s also true that this morning, when I hear Jesus say “Let the little children come to me”, I see 5 year old Ahmed Dawabsheh, still recovering in the hospital from burns received in the arson murder of his parents and baby brother. 

And it’s difficult to imagine Jesus welcoming children into his arms without seeing the nine year old son of Rabbi Eitan and Naama Henkin doing the very adult task of saying Kaddish at their funeral on Friday, after they were murdered in front of him and his three siblings.

Sadly, as I was finishing this sermon yesterday, I was interrupted first by a story that a 6 year old Palestinian boy was shot, apparently by an Israeli settler…and then later by the sirens outside my window after an Israeli father, mother, and toddler were attacked in the Old City.

In the face of such unspeakable violence and tragedy perpetrated against children, it is no small thing to stand and proclaim “Let the little children come to me” this morning. One might ask: Which children does Jesus welcome and bless, exactly? Ours, or theirs? The ones on this side of the wall, or the other side of the wall? The ones in pretty white dresses or the ones wrapped in white hospital bandages? When all of our children have become political pawns and sad symbols of the intensifying conflict in our city, where do we find the Good News in this Gospel lesson?

To be honest, I’m not entirely sure I have an adequate answer this morning. But what I do have is hope, and a deep faith in the fact that God still speaks to us through the Holy Scriptures, and through water, bread, and wine – and so I hope that you will walk with me, as together we seek a Word of grace in this tense time.

Like many ultra-familiar Gospel stories, this one is actually quite difficult for us to interpret and understand today. We’ve all seen the cheery images of Jesus surrounded by adorable children of many colors. Most of us grew up learning songs about Jesus and his love for children. In my Sunday School class, we sang “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world.” These images and songs and ideas are so familiar that we naturally assume we know what this Gospel story is about: It’s about how Jesus loves children. Cute, clean, adorable, diverse, smiling children. Of course he does! Who wouldn’t!

But when we seek to understand this Gospel story today, it’s important to note that in Jesus’ time, children were not seen as cute or adorable at all. Children were non-people, insignificant, without power or authority or a purpose until they were able to work and contribute to the adult world. Children were like cats to shoo away from the table. They weren’t creatures to be welcomed and touched and blessed, no matter what color they were, what side they were on, or who they belonged to.

So it was a really big deal for Jesus to challenge his disciples and open his arms to those dirty, noisy, insignificant children, sticky fingers and runny noses and all. It was a really big deal for him to count them as worthy to be touched, worthy even to be blessed, because in the eyes of his time and his culture and even his disciples, these creatures deserved less than nothing from him.

In spite of the horrendous violence against children we’ve seen over the last days and weeks, in general today we don’t question the fact that every child is precious. We don’t doubt that Jesus would love and welcome and bless all children---Palestinian and Israeli. Christian, Muslim, and Jewish. Black, brown, and white. Settler and villager. Refugee and citizen.

On the other hand, we do often find it hard to accept that Jesus could love our neighbor who professes different political or religious beliefs. We find it hard to understand that Jesus’ love could extend to those who have wronged us and even to those who hate us. If we were the disciples today, we would have no problem with Jesus welcoming little children, but we may have issues with him saying “Let the terrorist come to me, and do not stop him.”

And this is why the Good News of this morning’s Gospel lesson is not really about children at all. This text reveals so much more than the need for a good Sunday School program, or the need to make our worship services more child-friendly (which nevertheless are important issues, and worthy of discussion!) When in this Gospel reading we encounter Jesus welcoming children – welcoming even children, as the disciples would have seen it – we experience just how expansive, just how great, and just how radical the love of God in Christ Jesus really is. We learn that Jesus’ love really is big enough even for those we consider to be inappropriate, unacceptable, or simply beyond help.

This is the kind of Good News that frankly doesn’t seem like good news some days. 

This is the kind of Good News that gets under our skin, irritates us, and challenges both our assumptions and our worldview – a bit like what the disciples experienced when Jesus scolded them, saying “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them, for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”

Whenever I consider the radical nature of Jesus’ open arms of welcome, and how difficult it can be to understand much less receive such love, I always think of my friend Ray. Ray was a church member at my congregation in suburban Chicago, and I share his story today with his permission. 

Ray enlisted in the Army shortly after World War II. He signed up because he wanted to go to college, and his family could only afford to send his older sister. It was 1949. With the war over, the Army seemed like a great way to earn money for college and get some experience in the world.

He could never have guessed that his country would soon be in another conflict, this time in Korea. While there, he did what soldiers are trained to do: he killed people. The first one, he told me, he remembers in painful detail. He’s not sure how many came after that, and he wouldn’t want to count. He did what the government trained him to do. He did his job.

When he came home from Korea, Ray went on with life. He got married, raised a family, and worked hard. He had always been a believer, and while he may not have made it to church every Sunday, he was especially involved with the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. Everything seemed fine on the outside. Anyone who knew Ray would have seen him as a family man, a patriot, and especially a man of faith.

But Ray had a secret. For more than 50 years, Ray lived in fear that God would not, in fact could not, forgive him for what he did as a soldier. Didn’t Scripture say “Thou shalt not kill?” Didn’t Jesus say “not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished…Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven?” These words kept Ray bound up by guilt and wrapped tight with fear. To the world, Ray seemed to have it all together, but in reality he was always standing just outside the circle, just outside of reach, certain he was beyond God’s love.

But then, something happened. The way Ray tells it, it happened when he finally shared his fears with a trusted friend, and instead of condemnation, he heard these words: “Ray, all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. You have nothing to fear. In Christ, you are forgiven. You have always been forgiven.”

True, he had heard these words before. Who knows why these words made a difference on this day, in this conversation, with this particular person! All that matters is that this time, he got it. This time, he heard Jesus’ voice saying “Let the little children – let even Ray come to me -- and do not stop him” -- and he ran to his open arms. It was Ray’s 81st birthday.

At 81 years old, Ray received the Good News – not as an old man, not as a veteran, not as a lifelong church member, not as a father or grandfather, but as a child. He received the Good News as one who possessed nothing but the deep need to be loved.

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ, hear again the Good News that when Jesus opens his arms and says “Let the little children come to me”, that welcome includes you. 

Jesus’ love, grace, mercy and forgiveness, 

the open arms of the cross and of the empty tomb, are for you. 

Thanks be to God, this radical love is also for your neighbor, 

and for the arsonists, 

and for the killers, 

and for this fractured land, 

and for this whole broken and bleeding world. 

In Jesus Christ, we have come to know that there is no one outside of God’s love. There is no one outside the reach of God’s healing and reconciliation. Perhaps when we receive this love, really receive it, like a little child with nothing to offer and nothing to prove, then we will find peace. Then we will find wholeness.

And then we will be able to extend it to others.

Let us pray:

Loving God, on this morning we gather to sing your praises, but we also come carrying with us so much grief. We mourn for children who have lost parents. We mourn for this city which is once again torn apart by fear and violence. We pray that our hard hearts would be softened, and our eyes opened, so we can recognize those we call enemies as our sisters and brothers, members of the one human family. Call us back to your arms, and fill us with your Spirit of love, grace, and forgiveness. Make us whole. Make us instruments of your peace. We ask this through your Son Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God now and forever. Amen.