Care Giver Sunday: Finding and Being Christ to One Another through Community

The Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost (RCL, Year A, Proper 23)
October 12, 2008

The Reverend Susan Beth Pinkerton

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I recall how chilly is was that early morning in mid June, dark, over cast skies that threatened rain any moment…a perfect day for a funeral. One of the most powerful memories I have from the time I spent in Africa was when I attended a funeral in Tanzania. As a guest of the Anglican Bishop of the Diocese of Mt. Kilimanjaro, I and several others were packed into a Land Rover as we set out early in the morning to the remote village where the funeral was to be held. We traveled several miles toward the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro, zigzagging on bumpy, dirt roads marked by crater-sized pot holes. Once we went as far as we could by car, we got out and began walking up a narrow foot path through heavily foliaged foothills. As we snaked our way up the steep mountain side, every 50 yards or so a handful of people, from tiny infants to those stopped over with age, would appear from a side trail and quietly merge into our human train, one by one. I was struck by their reverence in that they maintained a sense of quiet dignity, making few nonverbal communications to assist others up the mountain side. I was taken aback by the women’s attire with the vibrant, colorful dresses and elaborate headdresses. The men wore clean white shirts, many with ties and dress pants. Shoes seemed to be optional and considering the steep and sometimes muddy narrow foot path, I understood and considered tossing mine aside from time to time. It was quite obvious that each guest had taken great pains to wear their Sunday best to the funeral.

After hiking for about an hour we finally arrived at the home of the elderly woman who had died. The area surrounding her tiny cinder block house was full of activity as the guests numbering about 300 sat in folding chairs, quietly visited with each other while several others music play. Many of the women were cooking in the outdoor kitchen area, stirring huge pots beside barrels of home brew, preparing a feast. Inside the home, mourners were lined up to view the body that was lying in state in the main room of the home. They quietly filed by, giving their respects to the various members of the family seated nearby.

The tradition of African funerals is that all the people from the surrounding villages are invited and expected to attend the funeral of a member of their community, whether they actually knew the deceased well or not. It is also part of their tradition that one wears the best clothes they own to the service, as a show of respect for the person who has recently died. This is community in action. There was an unspoken understanding that the mourners were connected to each other. In other words they were in relationship with each other, honoring their shared traditions as they stood together in their finery, rich and poor alike, bidding farewell to a member of their community.

In Matthew’s Gospel lesson we find Jesus explaining to the Pharisees about another type of community, the Kingdom of Heaven. He uses this strange parable of the king’s wedding feast in an effort to make them understand what they simply don’t get: that the Kingdom of Heaven is about being in community; being in relationship with another out of love and compassion. Being called to enter the Kingdom is a generous invitation, made in love, to everyone, without exception, who desire to be in full relationship with God and with each other. Life in the Kingdom of Heaven is a true life, marked by abundance, likened to a festive wedding banquet that has been prepared in anticipation of our arrival. We can imagine tables laden down with huge platters of food and jugs of wine that flows without end.

Jesus also teaches what it means to reject this ultimate offer of divine hospitality. To deny this relationship, the failure take it seriously, has serious consequences for the casual invitee. The violence of this vindictive king in this parable is troublesome and difficult to understand, not fitting with our image of a compassionate and loving Jesus. However, as when reading any biblical text, it is most helpful to put it within the historical context as we wrestle with the text’s meaning and discern the impact it may have on our lives today. This parable mirrors the turbulent and brutal reality of first century Jerusalem, an occupied city by the Roman army, known for its brutality throughout its empire. In first century Palestine, it was customary for the host of an extravagant celebration to supply the invited guests with the formal garments to be worn during the event. To refuse to wear the host’s party attire, such as the wedding garment, was deemed not only an insult to the host but a flagrant rejection of his generous hospitality.

So what is the key to unraveling this strange and bizarre story? How are we to understand that, “many are called but few are chosen?” Jesus is putting forth powerful and graphic images of what it is like to in be or out of relationship with God and with each other. Jesus teaches us that to be in relationship, to accept the invitation, means to have a life of abundance, such as the descriptive images we have of the wedding banquet. To be out of relationship, to deny this offer, is to be lost, adrift and alone.

However, there is a caveat to those who accept this generous invitation. One must come prepared, showing that they have taken this invitation seriously and not simply as an opportunistic whim for a free meal. Jesus wants us to take him seriously. Jesus wants us to take God seriously. And, we want to be taken seriously, acknowledged, loved, valued and respected for who and what we are. This is the foundation of relationship. And this is the foundation of our relationship with God and each other. This is the forming of community, such as the community we have at St. Mark’s. Each one of us commits to being a part of the Christian community by virtue of our Baptismal covenant, “We will seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.” (BCP, 305) This is a community defined by the mutual desire to serve, trust and respect each other with charity and love.

This is the cornerstone of the ministry we see in the pastoral care givers that we acknowledge and commission today; being in relationship with each other and with God. This is the Kingdom of Heaven here on earth. The ministry of pastoral care, whether done formally or informally, is not possible without this relationship because it is a ministry of presence. It is a ministry of holy presence in that we, as care givers, represent Christ to those we serve. Being and seeing Christ to each other; those we visit, lay hands on for healing, take a hot meal to share, or simply lend a listening ear.

However, these relationships don’t just happen because we desire it, as the parable so graphically remind us. We need to be intentional and sincere about relationships. Relationships require us to be willing to invest our time and risk making ourselves vulnerable to one another on the most human level. This is not an easy thing for any of us. For some, it is extremely difficult and requires courage. Frederick Buechner, gifted writer and Presbyterian minister, reminds us that we “spend great energy hiding our nakedness and humanity from each other.”^[1] To be in relationship means to be willing to take the risk to be vulnerable, to reveal a portion of who we really are to another, to lower the mask of our public persona, allowing the other to get a glimpse of our true personhood, warts and all. Without the willingness to take to the risk to be vulnerable, we never get past a superficial exchange of banal niceties, so that the relationship never has an opportunity to establish a sound root system, allowing it to grow in depth. Instead, it remains superficial as it simply withers away and dies from neglect.

The reward is well worth the risk, living into an abundant life as Jesus promises, life defined by love, compassion and justice and the freedom to be who we truly are. It is this awareness which connects us to each other and to God. In the process of making these connections, we are the Christ bearers to those we serve. And it is during this time of profound caring and sharing that we see the Kingdom of Heaven materialize in our midst, looking into the eyes of another and seeing Christ. This is the role God has chosen for each of us.

The trust that evolves from being in relationship is evidenced most beautifully in the 23rd psalm we sung moments ago. This psalm serves as a poetic balm for the frightened and forlorn soul. But it is the prayer of a soul that trusts without reservation in their relationship with God. And it this trusting relationship that enables this soul to turn to God, again and again and again. It is heartfelt longing for God to be present in our lives, especially during times of strife and uncertainty. Today the whole world groans under the weight of economic turmoil and collapse. Many of us may feel that we are in a crisis mode, uncertain of our futures. It is during times such as these that community and relationships can be our saving grace, giving us the confidence and hope that we will persevere and come out the other end, stronger and with a renewed sense of community.

In the opening line to the novel Anna Karenina, Tolstoy writes that “All happy families resemble one another; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” I think the same can be said about relationships. Any way you cut it, relationships are challenging. When they are good, they are very, very good and we can’t imagine life without the love, joy and comfort they give us. When they are bad, they are pretty awful to say the least and make our lives miserable.

Relationships also require commitment from both parties…it simply cannot be one sided – like trying to play a game of tennis by yourself, with no one to return your serve. We see this in marriage or friendship. It takes two. I believe that it is the same with God. To be in any type of relationship with God, it requires our time, a desire to be with God and some serious risk taking as we accept this holy invitation.

So what does God require of us? An open heart and an open mind. These are our “wedding garments” that we put on as we enter the wedding banquet, showing our sincere desire to open ourselves to God and to one another, sharing the radical good news of the Gospel. This means we are pushed, nudged, stretched and cajoled at times into areas way past our comfort zone, as we wrestle and stumble with the notion of what it means to be in relationship with a loving and just God. Our relationship with the divine becomes our reservoir for hope and peace, for solace and comfort. The relationship rescues when we fall into the pit of despair and the trap of complacency, calling us back to become who God has called to be from the beginning of creation, his beloved.

I invite you all to try on the wedding garment that has been set aside for us and enter into the banquet hall, choosing to partake in the abundant feast that has been made in anticipation of our arrival. Just as the Tanzanian villagers hiked up the winding mountain trail in their Sunday finest, we are called to take our place within the Christian community, coming together, holding each other up when we cannot stand or praying for the other when we cannot find the words. If we dare to risk it, taking Christ at his word, we begin the journey of living a life that is true, filled with an abundance of beauty and grace. Thomas Kelly, Quaker, mystic and theologian captures what it means to be in relationship, when we are called and chosen:

Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return. Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our time-torn lives, warning with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling us home unto Itself.^[2]

Amen.

[1] Frederick Buechner, Listening to Your Life: Daily Meditations with Frederick Buechner, (New York: HarperCollins, 1992), 272.

[2] Thomas R. Kelly, A Testament of Devotion, ( New York: Harper & Row, 1941),