"Sticks and Stones"- Sermon for Sunday 10 September 2017

Sermon for Sunday 10 September 2017

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger Smith

Matthew 18:15-20

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

On Tuesday morning, I was chased out of church by a nun carrying a big stick.

I really wish this were the start of a great joke! Or the first line of a great work of fiction.

But it’s a true story: 
On Tuesday morning, I was chased out of a church by a nun carrying a big stick, partly because I am not an Orthodox Christian, but mostly because I am a woman wearing a clergy collar. At the invitation of an Orthodox co-worker, a small group of us climbed to a monastery roof in the Holy Sepulcher courtyard to watch the formal procession of an icon. I had done this in years past with no problem, but this time, as we stepped onto the roof, a sister in black saw me coming, and she took immediate action. “Oh, no!” she said, hands on hips. Then she pointed at the clergy collars I and another woman pastor were wearing, and with a stamp of her foot she shouted: “THIS. NOT. GOOD. OUT!”

Now, there are times to stand your ground. There are times when, in the spirit of Martin Luther, it is appropriate to say, “Here I stand! I can do no other!” But it seemed to me that on that roof, face to face with an angry nun, was neither the time nor the place.  

We quickly turned to leave, while our Orthodox co-worker stayed to give Sister Shouts-a-Lot a piece of her mind.

When we got to the bottom of the stairs and we were about to make our exit, I looked back up to see the red-faced sister, still shouting, and now waving a broom handle at us. “And stay out!” she yelled.

I’ve experienced a number of awkward ecumenical incidents while serving as a pastor who is a woman in Jerusalem, but this one was truly exceptional. And hurtful! What makes it sadder is we were visiting the church that day to honor a woman. We were there, along with hundreds of others, to honor Mary, the mother of Our Lord. I can’t help but wonder if Mary would also find it necessary to keep the church free and clear of women (or just women like me).

The Orthodox priests carrying the icon of
Sleeping Mary into the church
Photo by Adrainne Gray/ELCJHL

My pastor friends and I did finally see the icon procession, albeit from ground level. We saw finely-dressed priests march into the courtyard, cradling the icon of Sleeping Mary. We watched as they carried the icon past Sister Waves-a-Stick and into the chapel, where it was placed behind glass until next year.

And then, my colleagues and I came back to the Redeemer Café for a healing cup of coffee and our weekly Bible study.

But before the coffee, I stopped in my office, and told my other co-workers what happened. Some of them promised to keep a big stick by our church door for the next time any Orthodox priests come to visit. You don’t need people like that in your life, they said. Shake the dust off your feet. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum. Don’t let them get you down. End of story. 

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum...on my arm!

I admit, it felt good, just for a moment, to think of making her feel as bad, and as excluded, as I did.

A few minutes later, sitting around one of the tables in the courtyard downstairs, we began to study this week’s appointed Scripture lessons. Pastor John read aloud:

“Jesus said to the disciples: If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.”

…and he stopped right there. We were silent for a moment, and then all of us burst out laughing! “Go talk to her!” said Jesus. But not one of us felt like going back to the monastery have a heart-to-heart with Sister Grumpypants (or, more accurately, Sister Grumpy-habit…).

When we stopped laughing, John continued reading:

“If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”

Oh my, what a perfect Scripture text that was for us that day! I’ve heard it said that God is never in a hurry, but is always right on time, and that’s exactly what it felt like that morning. At just the right time, when we needed help to process the morning’s events from a new perspective, we received Jesus’ specific instructions for how to deal with conflicts that arise within the Body of Christ. This didn’t feel like church history, or theology. This felt like a direct word to me and my sister in Christ standing on that roof, the two of us united in faith, but divided by church tradition, personal opinion, and a little patriarchy thrown in for good measure.

And what I heard Jesus say to me was: This is not the end of the story.

Carrie, you don’t get to lock the door on your sister and throw away the key.

You don’t get to push your hurt under the rug either, acting as if everything is ok on the outside while nurturing hateful thoughts on the inside.

And you definitely don’t get to pick up sticks and wage a sister-on-sister battle.

The story doesn’t end here.

“Talk to her,” says Jesus. “And if that doesn’t work, bring a few friends. And if that doesn’t work, appeal to the church as a whole.”

Finally, Jesus says, “If all else fails, let her be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”

Now, let’s talk about Gentiles and tax collectors.

“Let her be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector” at first seems like Jesus is saying, “Forget her. You don’t need that in your life.” After all, these were the types of folks “nice people” didn’t hang around with in Jesus’ time. So why not just walk away?

Some of the clergywomen of Jerusalem

Except it turns out, Jesus has a history with Gentiles and tax collectors. Jesus has a proven record of consorting with lepers and even with women, and of populating his inner circle with the outcast and the despised. By the witness of the Gospels, we know very well how Jesus deals with such people:

He invites them to dinner.

He heals them.

He loves them.

He makes them disciples!

And he takes up the cross for their sake, and for the sake of all sinners.

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ, because the church is Christ’s crucified and risen body on earth, we can never say to another part of the body, “I have no need of you.” (1 Cor 12:12-26). Conflict between a few members affects the entire body. This is true for congregations, and it is true for ecumenical relations. Where the rest of the world writes people off when conflict reaches a certain point, or engages in a battle to the death, within the Body we must always seek understanding, healing, and reconciliation.

We must never stop trusting in the power of the cross to heal and restore even the most wounded body.

This year is the 500^th anniversary of the Reformation, and I must say I have heard (and helped to write) many sermons already which proclaim the hope that soon, the church divisions of the 16^th century will be healed. The Pope and our Lutheran bishop just last year prayed together in Sweden, remember? Surely an open communion table, women priests, and the end of celibacy cannot be far behind.

And every time I hear these hopes, I think: “Really? Does anyone really think the Pope will accept priests who look like me? For that matter, does anyone think evangelical Christians will accept a pope, in any shape or form?”

And it’s not like things have gotten better between the churches over the last five hundred years! 

Nuns still chase Lutheran lady pastors around with sticks.

Churches still chase people out with social statements,

Or with their silence over such statements.

Believers still hurt one another, sometimes even in the name of God.

For this reason, visions of miraculous reconciliation within the global church can seem unlikely. Unrealistic. Fake news of the highest order.

But then, the resurrection seemed unlikely, too.

And yet, we believe!

We believe in blind eyes opened.

We believe in ears unstopped.

We believe in prison walls crumbled,

And stones rolled away from the doors of tombs.

We believe in resurrection, restoration, reformation, and transformation.

Thanks be to God, we have heard the Good News, and we believe, that because Christ is raised, love, life, and restoration are at the end of every story of conflict, sickness, and struggle--in our homes, in our communities, in the church, and in the world.

And so, I wonder: what should I say to Sister Shouts-a-Lot this week?

To be honest, I’m not exactly sure. I walk past her special roof every day on my way to work, so it would be pretty hard to avoid her altogether.

But I do know that our story does not end in sticks and shouting.

So I think I’ll start with prayer—for her, and for myself.

And one day, I will talk with her. I might make sure there are no sticks around first, but I will surely talk to her again!

And when I do, it will be in confidence, for I know Jesus will be there, too. Wherever two or three are gathered, he has promised that he will there, too, doing what he always does: Healing. Reconciling. Loving us, and loving his church, to the very end. Amen.