What Makes A Good Gate?

 

Is this a good gate?

Acts 2:42-47

1 Peter 2:19-25

John 10:1-10

Psalm 23

 

Good Shepherd, 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.

When I turned eleven years old, I received an amazing birthday present. My mom gave me a six-week-old, Springer-Spaniel puppy who was curious, smart, and just a little mischievous. That night, I knew what to call him—Merlin because I thought he was magic. Soon I realized just how fitting his name was. 

After school, I would run and play with Merlin, so that he got some exercise and attention. We would play in the fenced-in backyard. One day I went inside to grab a snack, and not a moment later I returned to find that Merlin was gone. I ran around to the front yard, and he was trotting around proudly, sniffing bushes that he did not get to smell otherwise. It was as if he said, I did this just to show you I could do it. I chased him to the backyard and discovered that the magical dog had managed to unlatch the gate.

Merlin somehow found a way to get through the gate. For some time, I was scared that he would get out and get hurt, so anytime he pushed through the gate I got angry. A couple of times I even kicked and cussed that gate until I hurt myself or until my mom heard me. That was a bad gate. It would not keep Merlin in, it made me angry, and a few times it even let in other dogs or animals that would pester Merlin.

In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus said, “I am the gate,” but my childhood gate makes me think, is that a good thing? What makes for a good gate?

When I went on a college visit to Birmingham-Southern, a security officer looked over the entranceway. He wanted to know my name and if I was there on an official visit. Later, I discovered that the guards of this gate are there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. An admissions counselor told stories about when students broke down on the way home from Spring Break or Christmas Vacation and how the gatekeepers would make sure that these students got back to campus safely.

Jesus says, “I am the gate,” but is the BSC gate something like what he was describing? This seems like an impressive gate system. Those who are invited inside get to come in and even when in danger, they are rescued by the security guard.

On my last official college visit as a high school senior, I traveled north from Birmingham with my mom and sister. As we approached the campus of this university on either side of Highway 41A we noticed large stone columns with the name “Sewanee” on it. Our admissions tour brochure informed us that most refer to this rocky entranceway as “The Gates.” When one leaves campus, one is to tap the ceiling of the car to receive a Sewanee angel. This tradition stems from the belief that Sewanee stands out as a thin space, heaven-on-earth, as it were.

Jesus says, “I am the gate,” but is this what he meant? Does Sewanee have good gates? When you leave them you receive a holy presence that goes with you on your journey. There is no latch, nor roadblock, rather everyone is allowed inside. Yet, if inside is where the angels dwell, who and what is outside? And, what if without a real barrier those inside do not feel safe?

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday. Yet, Jesus was and is more than a shepherd. Today’s Gospel lesson informs us he is a gate too. What did he mean when he offered, “I am the gate”? Maybe, we cannot completely understand what he meant. Certainly, as our gateway then, now, and always, he is not a flimsy closure that a magic dog can easily bypass getting himself into danger, nor is Jesus a reinforced, closed, and guarded way that not everyone can enter.

Perhaps Jesus as our gateway means that we have someone who will come and get us when we are in trouble, like at BSC. Maybe Jesus as our gateway means that as we move through him, we are accompanied by a heavenly presence, like at Sewanee. Jesus as our gateway might just mean that we are invited to come into the fold when he calls, but we are also free to go out into the pasture to grow spiritually when he leads us there. 

Jesus is partially like all of these previously mentioned gates, and yet he is not like any of these gates. Gates keep things in or out. Sure, they can protect us, but they also can keep us separated. We need more than just any gate.

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday, and we learn from John’s Gospel account that Jesus was both shepherd and gate. In his day, these two positions were one in the same thing. Shepherds would lay over the only opening in a fence physically becoming the gate through which thieves and bandits would have to come to find the sheep. Imagine that! Our Good Shepherd keeps us safe, serving not only as our guide and companion, but also as our shield from those who yearn to harm us.

Christ walks with us always, and he calls us to go through his gateway into deeper life. As a gate, Christ is the way through which we experience the full abundance of life. To enter into the richness of life on and beyond we need only to walk with our Good Shepherd and through his gateway into the life eternal.

What does a good gate look like? It looks like a Good Shepherd.  

End Racism Sunday: Be Opened

On End Racism Sunday how do we confront a "racist" Jesus?

This sermon takes into account End Racism Sunday and is inspired by Mark 7:24-37.

Sermon audio may be found here.

We love dogs don’t we? We pamper them, walk them, and bathe them. We pay for their nails to get trimmed. We send them to spas, we buy them cute outfits, and even put them on extravagant diets. I’ve heard it said that if an alien looked down upon our part of the world, it would believe that dogs are the ruling species by how well we typically treat them. While we love dogs so much, to be called a dog does not often carry the same good feelings as the ones we get when we see our furry little friends.

To be clear dog idioms are a mixed bag. “You’re my dog,” “You sly dog you,” and “top dog” certainly stand out as complementary expressions. On the other hand though there is “sick as a dog,” “hair of the dog,” “calling off the dogs,” “shouldn’t happen to a dog,” “can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” and just for good measure, “thrown to the wolves.” Taken a step further no woman wants to be referred to as the female side of the canine species, and if you’re a man you don’t want to be called an SOB.

In Jesus’ day there were also doggy terms, like in today’s gospel story. When this Syrophoenician woman humbly approaches Jesus, his response comes across with a lot of emotional static. That is, we have a hard time hearing Jesus calling her a dog without cringing. Is Jesus being playful? Did some later anti-Gentile Christians put this into Mark’s story? Wasn’t Jesus all about being inclusive? These are just a few questions worth raising when we hear Jesus’ response to a panicked mother seeking her daughter’s healing.

The phrase that Jesus used was diminutive, meaning he did not call her a big mean dog. And yet, this phrase does not come across as “cute little puppy,” but rather something like, “that little b____.” (Micah D. Kiel, "Commentary on Mark 7:24-37" www.workingpreacher.org). There is however, something more problematic for us than Jesus calling this emotional fraught woman a dirty word behind closed doors.

This Syrophoenician woman was someone from outside Jesus’ own group. She was not a Jew like Jesus. The words he spoke can at best be seen as offensive and at worst can be read as racist. How we hear, interpret, and respond to this is all the more complicated by the fact that today is a Sunday set aside by our friends in the African Methodist Episcopal Church and adopted by our Church leadership to confront racial prejudice. This is a day being called End Racism Sunday. Yet, how do we do this when we hear Jesus saying about another group of people, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”?

It can be easy for us to retroactively defend Jesus by pointing to the almost universal tendency to stick with one’s own tribe. Still his words cut through this not so sturdy defense. More helpful in understanding what Jesus said is our heartfelt belief that he came to be a light for all people. The one we, as Gentiles, call our Savior was a Jewish man who came to expand the Chosen People of God from a select group of the Abrahamic Covenant to all those for whom Christ’s blood was shed. Even through our Faith in Christ the words he spoke to this Gentile woman nag at us. We cannot hide from the offensiveness of what Jesus said, especially today we must confront these words and learn from Jesus’ interaction with someone completely different from him.

In this story Jesus was in a foreign land. Traveling from work done in the overwhelmingly Jewish area of Galilee to Tyre, a place that was practically pagan. He was attempting to find a quiet place, but was immediately interrupted by one who should not even know who Jesus was. We can, I believe, all relate to the annoying feeling of someone pestering us when all we want is to have a moment alone. Despite the interruption Jesus listened. We do not know what she said, but we know she knelt before him and begged for her daughter’s healing. The humility did not strike Jesus, in fact, he became annoyed with her, comparing her people to dogs. What transformed this interaction was her boldness.

She did not get offended, melt into tears, or walk away when called a dog. The woman took the hurtful words, accepted them, and spoke something that demanded Jesus’ attention: even the dogs eat at God’s table. God’s overabundance goes beyond the Chosen People to all people, even the ones considered dogs. Jesus healed the woman’s daughter, as he heard the audacity of this brave one.
If we are to live as God intends us to live, we cannot speak from places of racial discrimination (not behind closed doors, not in jokes, not anywhere), but we must follow Jesus’ lead. Not in what he said, but in what he did. Jesus had a conversation with someone outside his own group. When he put his foot in his mouth, he was called out on it, and he did not deny his words. Furthermore, he sought healing in this relationship and with future generations of this family. What is more he went on to heal another person, which informs us more about this first miracle.

A man who could not speak or could not hear was brought to Jesus. Jesus did not only seek healing for this man, but I believe he also sought healing for himself. Jesus’ own ears and mouth, his heart and mind were opened by the Syrophoenician woman. Jesus connected back to the confrontation with her, as he took the deaf man aside, sighed, and said, “Ephphatha!” that is “Be opened!”
Be opened! That is what Jesus said to this man and to himself, and it’s what he models for us. Be opened! Open to those who are different than you. Be open to what they say. Be open to their reality being different because of the color of their skin. Be open to the possibility that you have been deaf and dumb. Be open when you say something offensive, so that you can own it, learn from it, and seek healing.

Today we intend to End Racism, but to do so we must recognize our own role in it. In a moment we will confess our sins to God and ask for forgiveness, and in the light of reconciliation Jesus shows us a path to walk: All of us are God’s chosen people not by what we do, but by God’s love for us; as God’s children we are called to speak with those who look different, listen to them, when we speak hurtfully we must seek healing and reconciliation; do not be deaf and dumb, but be opened. Ephphatha, that is be opened!

A Shift In Perspective

This sermon is based on Luke 7:18-35 from today's the Daily Office Lectionary.

I sometimes think about the absurdity of a Martian looking down from outer space observing our day-to-day lives here on earth. Among other things I think about how that Martian, let’s go ahead and call him Marvin, would think that dogs, and certain cats, are the most sophisticated and most advanced species on earth. Dogs lounge around all day long taking naps wherever they please. They are massaged and groomed. They are loved and cared for by their “owner,” maybe we should change that to “servant”? From the perspective of Marvin life for a dog is ideal. Yet, we who are down here on earth have a different perspective.

We know that dogs are often cooped up all day long. We know that they often do not have as much freedom as they would like. We understand that, at least from our point of view, we have more ability and privilege.

One’s perspective can make all the difference in the world. To the tax collector who was seen as an outcast, John the Baptist’s ministry offered the opportunity for rebirth. Evan talked about this last week at this service that tax collectors were the most despised persons who were hated everywhere they went. He likened them to child molesters of our day who cannot go anywhere without shame and ridicule. To the most rejected person any form of redemption can start to transform life itself. Imagine being completely rejected everywhere you go for years and years. No one loves you. No one will marry you. No children to comfort you. This was life for tax collectors and is life for many still today.

After torturous existence, finally someone offers not just a glimpse of hope but a promise of an opportunity to turn back to God to be counted as one of his own children. This was the perspective of the wretched tax collector and all those sinners who journeyed out into the wilderness to experience the cool, transforming waters of the Jordan River! What did they go out to see? A reed blown by the wind? OF COURSE NOT! They went to see a prophet who would call their lives back into order. Yet, this was not the perspective of those wearing the soft robes (Hey, this robe is pretty soft).

I consider myself somewhat of a Pharisee. It comes with the territory of being a priest. Soft robes were not seen in the wilderness, rather they were what the Pharisees would have worn within the Temple and what the Roman leaders would have worn while occupying Israel. The Pharisee’s perspective was different than that of the tax collector, as different as a Martian and our own perspective. They were so accustomed to being in the places of honor that they ignored anyone outside their well-dressed circle.

We can make a related mistake if we are not careful. Our worship, the liturgy that we so love, and the beautiful vessels and vestments that help us to remember God’s worthiness and ultimate place within our lives is to help us to remember. We use our religious practices to help us to come back together as the Body of Christ. The Pharisees mistakenly put religion in the place of God. They cared more about the soft robes than the call from the wilderness. If we are not careful we too can miss John’s call for us to prepare a way for Jesus. Jesus in turn puts at the center of our perspective our constant need to turn back to God.

We cannot rely upon our religion alone to save us. It will help us to shape our lives and it gives us a framework to remind us that we need God in our lives. Yet, what John the Baptist called everyone to do and what Jesus continues to whisper in our hearts tells us to turn around and come back to Our Father in Heaven. No matter what our perspective, tax collector or Pharisee, sinner or Saint, Earthling or Martian, we are all in need of repenting and receiving the healing power that awaits when we return to the embrace of God!