Softhearted Discipleship

Click the link above to view the video of this sermon.

 

This sermon was preached on the 20^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 22B) at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. A video of the sermon may be found here. The readings for this Sunday were the following: 

Job 1:1; 2:1-10

Psalm 26 

Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12

Mark 10:2-16

 

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

One of the things that the Search Committee shared with me this time a year ago was the desire for this community of Holy Apostles to experience dedicated formation, so that we collectively may learn the way of Christ. For the past several weeks, we’ve spent time with our Teacher Jesus learning to be students or what we often call disciples. Today’s Gospel gives us a challenging lesson about that call to learn from Christ, as we see Jesus engage in a difficult conversation with the Pharisees about divorce.

At first glance it appears that Jesus is instructing in no uncertain terms that marriage is good, and divorce is bad. However, this passage is not simply about divorce law, nor is it simply about marriage in Jesus’ time. It’s about what we value and, more importantly, whom we value.

In this Gospel lesson, the Pharisees approached Jesus with a question meant to test him. They focused on the letter of the law, particularly the mandate giving men control over women’s lives. I wish that this story was just something confined to long ago, but the obsession of some men controlling other people, especially women, has echoed hauntingly throughout the centuries. Back in Jesus’ day, a woman’s worth was limited—defined by her ability to bear children and run a household. Divorce was simple for men, who could dismiss their wives with a certificate. What mattered was the man’s authority, not the woman’s well-being.

But Jesus saw things differently. He turned the teaching on its head and pointed to a deeper set of questions: What do you truly value? Is it power? Is it self-interest? Or is it the well-being of those who have no voice—those whom society deems less than? Less than important, less than worthy, less than others.

In our time, we may look back and feel we’ve come a long way. And in some ways, we have. But still, the vulnerable among us often go unseen or unheard. Women, children, people of color, the poor, the persecuted, the immigrant, the member of the LGBTQIA+ community, the imprisoned—whom do we value? We still hear stories of injustice and hardship. In many cases, women remain undervalued in the workplace, survivors of abuse are often blamed, and vulnerable groups continue to be marginalized.

Jesus’ instruction still resonates clearly: We must value those whom society overlooks.

I see that spirit alive at Holy Apostles. Even as we gather here, I am reminded of last week’s Church in the Park service. We gathered in Shades Cliff Park not just for worship, but for connection, for fellowship, and for the sheer joy of being together in God’s creation. In more casual settings like this we have the opportunity to see each other’s true selves—the divine image-bearing part of us that we were each made to be. Together we glimpse the Kingdom of God when we extend open arms to one another, sharing our lives and our love freely. And in this Kingdom, in this Reign of Christ, we strive to emulate Christ Jesus’ own example. 

Long ago he did not say, “Don’t get divorced ever, even if you are being hurt or abused.” No, Jesus warned that divorce should not be used by men to easily dismiss their wives—leaving the more vulnerable half of the species at that time in an even more precarious situation. We are to follow the Way of Christ, not the way of the world. We must value those whom society overlooks. 

This work of reaching out to those in need is a big piece of who we are at Holy Apostles. And, it is one of the reasons why in this season of financial stewardship, I’m reminded that stewardship is more than a conversation about money. It’s a reflection on what we give worth to. You may know that worth and worship share the same root word. So, what we give worth to in our lives is what we worship—remember that the next time you review your bank statements. Sometimes I start to wonder am I worshipping God or am I worshipping Target?

The more lasting question here is where do we invest our time, our talent, and our treasure? In this season, we are being invited to ask ourselves hard questions about how we value the vulnerable, not just through our words but through our actions. Do we live out the values that Jesus embodied?

One recent example that exemplifies this kind of softheartedness is the story of Mark Elwood, a parishioner at my former church of All Saints. When Hurricane Helene hit Mark felt a tug on his heart to care for those who are vulnerable and without necessities they need. Mark worked with the people of All Saints on collecting supplies. Then, Mark flew his plane full of food, water, and essentials to give to the Rev. David Henson and the good people of St. James, Hendersonville, North Carolina. When Mark heard of the suffering of others, he let his heart be softened. 

All of us have hearts made of flesh. Even if the world tries to solidify your heart into something made of concrete, rebar, and reinforced steel, God is actively working in your life to soften that heart, so that you might reach out in love to those who are hurting. And, if you are one of the ones who is hurting, reach out and ask for help!

So, this is the question worth us pondering here at Holy Apostles: How do we keep our hearts from hardening? In a world where it’s so easy to become overwhelmed or discouraged, let’s choose a different path—the Way of Love.

Let’s ask ourselves and each other questions like: How do you stay open? How do you remain softhearted and compassionate, even in the face of adversity? These aren’t exactly new questions—they are ones that people of faith have wondered for centuries—but it feels particularly pressing in our current moment. When the world around us grows tough, when we’re tempted to shut down or turn away, how do we keep that childlike openness Jesus speaks about in today’s Gospel?

It may seem disconnected, but in the Gospel according to Mark everything is connected. So, when Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me” it’s no coincidence. The children, in their innocence and vulnerability, are central to this passage. In a culture that often overlooked them, Jesus welcomed them. He knew that to embrace God’s Kingdom, we need a childlike heart—one that is tender, open, and receptive.

This is what I long for from us as a community at Holy Apostles—to talk regularly about how we might actively seek out ways to give our hearts to God. I’ve often heard people share how our music, prayers, relationships, and liturgy all play a role in softening their hearts. These practices help us remain open to God’s presence and to the needs of others. In all these ways we are invited to give our lives over to God who takes, blesses, breaks, and gives our hearts and lives back to us transformed. This might sound a bit scary frankly because it is. Giving over our hearts to be broken sounds scary, and I have apprehension about this. 

And yet, a few years ago, I came across a profound insight from Brother Curtis Almquist of the Society of St. John the Evangelist, which helped me to step into this endeavor of softening my heart with newfound refreshment. Brother Almquist told the story of a young monk who came to his superior for wisdom.

The novice said he found it strange that in the Old Testament there were many references to the Word of God being written on our hearts. The young man added that it made no sense for God’s word to be etched on the outside of our hearts. The old monk sat and thought for a moment, then asked, “I wonder if the Word of God is written on our hearts, so that when our hearts inevitably break, God’s Word will fill our hearts and make them whole once more.” Sometimes it is only through our brokenness that we truly embody God’s compassion and love.

So, what do we do when we feel our hearts hardening? When it’s easier to protect ourselves than to remain vulnerable? Jesus offers us the way forward in this Gospel: we are called to soften our hearts by receiving the Kingdom like a child. That means living with compassion, humility, and openness—even when it’s difficult.

As we continue through this season of stewardship, I encourage each of you to ask: What do I value? Whom do I value? How does my life reflect these truths? And, where is God calling me to soften my heart? 

Whether it’s through our ministries, our personal relationships, or in the way we engage with the world, may we be people whose hearts are tender, ready to welcome the vulnerable, and eager to reflect the love of Christ.

May God grant us the grace to keep our hearts soft, and when they break, may they break open to receive God’s living Word. Amen.