Sermon Sunday 8 May 2016: 7th Sunday of Easter
Sermon for Sunday 8 May 2016
7th Sunday of Easter
Lutheran Church of the Redeemer,
Jerusalem
The Rev. Carrie Ballenger Smith
Grace and peace to you from God our
Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
The other
day, I was happy to run into two young women I’ve come to know here in
Jerusalem. Both of them are from Protestant backgrounds (Lutheran and
non-denominational) and both of them happen to be on spiritual journeys toward
confirmation in the Roman Catholic tradition.
It had been
awhile since I had seen them, so it was good to catch up. I noticed that their
chosen reading material on that sunny afternoon was a thick book called “Catechism
of the Catholic Church.”
“A little
light reading, eh?’ I teased.
And one of
the women responded, “Carrie, convince me to stay Lutheran.”
I suppose
she expected me to do my best sales pitch for grace and sola scriptura. I suppose I should have been prepared with my
elevator speech, summing up essential Lutheran theology such as the priesthood
of all believers, or recounting the historic scandal of how the church sold indulgences
to save souls (and to build a church in Rome).
But I didn’t
offer any of those things.
"That they may all be one" -- with my German and Palestinian Lutheran colleagues Ascension Day 2016 |
Instead, I
told her a bit of my own story: how I was baptized Lutheran, but confirmed in a Congregationalist
church; how I then had an internship with a Presbyterian ministry during
college, only to be confirmed as a Roman Catholic a few years later.
I told her
how I found my way back to the Lutheran tradition chiefly because I was feeling
called to preach—and that I am married to a Lutheran pastor who happens to be a
former Pentecostal Christian.
“You’re not
helping,” said my Lutheran-but-almost-Catholic friend.
I suppose
this makes me the worst Lutheran missionary ever. In fact, it might be a little
risky to tell this story this morning, given the fact that my supervisor from the
national office of our denomination is sitting in the pew in front of me! But the thing
is, I’ve read the Gospels. I’ve heard the Good News. And therefore I know that
we do not belong to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, or to the
Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land. We belong to Jesus,
crucified and risen. We belong to Jesus—the same Jesus who is proclaimed in
this church, and in the famous one around the corner, and in the Cowboy Church
I once visited in Oklahoma.
No matter
what the sign on the door of the church says, we belong to Jesus, who earnestly
prayed,
“I ask not
only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me
through their word, that they may all be
one.”
“That they
may all be one.” Unity is Jesus’ heart’s desire for the whole church—past,
present, and future. It’s a beautiful prayer, but one that stings a bit when we
consider the reality of the Jesus movement today. In fact, almost nowhere are
the divisions within the church of Jesus Christ more visible than right here in
Jerusalem! We can’t even get it together in the church built around Jesus’
tomb, a fact which gives the tour guides something to talk about, but should really
give us something to pray about.
Celebrating with our Arab Orthodox friends on Holy Fire Saturday in Jerusalem |
“That they
may all be one.” Two thousand years after Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection, and
ascension, our faith communities have developed many different ways of praying,
singing, and talking about God. Some of these differences are theological, some
are cultural, and some are simply accidents of history. Some have sadly become
justification for hatred, discrimination, and even violence. It was only a few
years ago, in fact, that the Lutheran Church publicly apologized for terrible
injustices perpetrated against Anabaptists in the 16th Century—violence
that grew out of differing understandings and practices of baptism.
It is a
sobering reminder of our human brokenness to realize that even the sacrament
which forms believers into the one Body of Christ—baptism—became justification
for harming members of the very same Body.
I remember
preparing to do my very first baptism as an ordained pastor. I was pretty sure
I knew how it was supposed to work (after all, I did pay attention most days in
seminary!) but I was sure to ask a knowledgeable church member for the details
before the big day.
Children of Redeemer Church, "playing baptism" after worship |
“So tell me
about how you do baptisms here.” I asked.
“Oh, we just
do it regular.” was the reply.
“Well, walk
me through it anyway” I insisted.
“Well, we
invite the family to come up front.” Got it.
“Then we
have some prayers.” Check.
“Then we
pour the water in the bowl and baptize the baby.” So far, so good.
“And then we
present them with the calendar.”
Wait…
What
calendar? This doesn’t appear in the Lutheran book of liturgy! They didn’t
teach us about a "holy calendar" in seminary! I was so glad I asked.
The
presentation of a baptism calendar is not likely to become a practice that divides the church or ignites a new Reformation movement. On the other hand,
this is a great example of how differences in culture, tradition, and context can become sacred to us.
Soon, we may
start to think of ourselves as the First United Apostolic Church of the Holy Baptism
Calendar (Reformed).
That is,
until someone starts the Second United Apostolic Church of the Holy Baptism
Calendar.
And still,
Jesus prays on our behalf: “That they may all be one.”
As we
prepare for the 500th anniversary of the Reformation in 2017, the global church
has much to ponder. Do we celebrate this anniversary in a spirit of triumph, or
a spirit of repentance? Should we be singing songs of Lutheran pride and
identity, or joining in Jesus’ prayer that “they may all be one”? And what does that unity look like?
On October
31, 2016—Reformation Day and the beginning of the 500th anniversary
year—Bishop Munib Younan of the ELCJHL will be joining Pope Francis, the first
female Archbishop of Sweden, Antje Jackelen, and others, in Lund, Sweden, for a
special joint prayer service. Bishop Younan and Pope Francis will be offering
the final blessing together, side by side.
Just
describing this event sounds like the beginning of a joke: a Palestinian
Lutheran, a Swedish lady priest, and the Argentinian Pope walk into a bar...
And yet,
it’s no joke. This event is historic, even before it has happened. Some critics
from both the Lutheran and the Catholic traditions are already putting up road
blocks. But Bishop Younan just chuckled and said to me, “Five hundred years
ago, a German divided the church. Who would have thought a Palestinian and an
Argentinian would go this far to unite it!”
The Pope praying
together with Lutherans on Reformation Day will indeed be historic. And yet,
this historic event is not just a photo op or a good press release. We do not
seek Christian unity in order to consolidate the office staff, or reduce
overhead costs, or to improve our public image.
Our Orthodox neighbors visited the Lutheran church to wish us a Happy Easter (while they were still observing Lent) |
We pray for
unity, we seek reconciliation, and we boldly risk criticism only for the sake
of those who have not yet heard the Good News. Our efforts to practice oneness
in Christ—imperfect though they may be—are always for the sake of those who do
not yet know they are loved by God. For Jesus prayed:
“As you,
Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world
may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have
given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me,
that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have
sent me and have loved them even as you
have loved me.”
So that the world may know that Jesus
loves them. This is
why we celebrate the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity in Jerusalem and around
the world. This is why we have joint Arabic-English-German services at
Redeemer, like the one we had on Ascension Day this week. This is why Munib and
Francis, brothers in Christ, divided by language, culture, theology, history,
and institutional power, will stand side by side to bless the next 500 years of
the one Church of Jesus Christ.
And this is
why I couldn’t—or wouldn’t—convince a friend to “stay Lutheran.”
Because Jesus
does not belong to us—we belong to Jesus.
By the
cross, he loved us as one.
When he was raised from the tomb, he gave us one hope.
Through
water and the Word, he made us One Body.
And when, by
the Holy Spirit, Jesus sends us out, he doesn’t ask us to carry the Good News
of our traditions, or the Good News of our theologies, or the Good News of our hymnals, or the Good News of our institutional or
ecclesiastical structures.
Jesus asks us to carry the Good News of the one cross of
our Lord Jesus, that the world may know they are loved.
Some friends celebrated their 21st wedding anniversary on Friday. Their names are
Hunter and Ruth. On Facebook, Hunter wrote about their marriage:
“I don't think that
there is any longer a Hunter without a Ruth. And maybe that is the definition
of what it means to be one.”
I
think this is the kind of unity Jesus had in mind for the church when he prayed, “That they
may all be one”. May we always remember that there are no Lutherans without
Catholics, there are no Evangelicals without the Orthodox, and there is no
church without the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Together, may we all be one voice
proclaiming the love of this same Jesus Christ, from Jerusalem to the ends of
the earth. Amen!
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