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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