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The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost September 27, 2015

This Weekend's Readings (click each reading to view the passage)

Numbers 11:4-6,10-16,24-29; Psalm 19:7-14; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50

Pr. Christine's Sermon - Undocumented Workers

Children's Sermon - Be Salt

Youth Bell Choir - Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus

Youth Bell Choir - Blessed Assurance

Sermon Notes from Pastor Christine...

You know what this is? It is my honest-to-goodness 'Pastor Card'.   Yup. That's right, it's my membership that states The Reverend Christine L. Stephan [it hasn't been updated since I was married] is an official, licensed, registered, card carrying member of the Jesus Club.   All signed by the Bishop and everything. Pretty cool, huh?

It actually doesn't say I'm a member of the Jesus Club... I mean, I am but I don't need a card to be in it. Really it certifies that I am an ordained minister in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America in the Metropolitan Washington D.C. Synod.

Pretty 'special,' huh?

Please note the heavily laced amount of sarcasm I place on 'special'. Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure what privileges this card can invoke for me. The only times I've ever used it is to prove I'm actually a pastor.

I'll be in a group of folks - some I know well and some I don't know - and unfailingly the conversation will turn to what everyone does for work.

And I'll say, with some reservation because I can predict with a fair amount of certainty what the response will be, "I'm a ... pastor...".

Blank stare, followed by, "Really?"

And if one of my good friends is there, they will say, "Show them your Pastor Card." So I do, because it lightens the awkwardness and provides some comic relief.

I feel like this is not the Bishop's intended purpose of the card.

I think the purpose of the card, if there is any, is to 'prove' that I'm a pastor when visiting hospitals, to designate me with an ID number for administrative purposes, and since it has an expiration date on it...to declare that I am under call, because if one hasn't served the church for a period of time, they can eventually forfeit their ordination unless the Council of Bishops agrees to extend one's leave from call.

Mine expires this year, by the way. Pretty sure the Bishop will renew me.

Regardless, those are about the only reasons I come up with for needing a pastor card.

However, while it is true the physical card doesn't really 'get' me anything, it's also true that without all that lies behind the card [the education, the panel approvals, the internships, the promises, the call] I've got nothing.

No claim on pastorship. No specialty. No identity.

I'd be an undocumented worker.

So, the card - it really does entitle me to something, at least within the social, political, and religious structures of today.

And, I think Jesus would look at my card and roll his eyes and probably tell me to my face, "Pretty fancy card you got there. So...? That means nothing to me or within the kingdom of God."

When John starts complaining about this horrible undocumented worker who is, GASP, casting out demons, Jesus is quick to tell him it's not his place to call dibs on righteousness or faithfulness, or check papers to ensure people are registered members of the Jesus club.

John can't fathom letting people go around willy-nilly changing the world for the better when they have no right! The nerve of some people.

Right? This was the issue for John and disciples...undocumented workers were taking away their jobs, but those with the right paperwork had missed the point.

See, apparently the early Christian church wasn't all united in their beliefs, sometimes clashed with each other, and occasionally even berated one another over differences in practice. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Just the other evening, I was walking down Half Street in DC towards Nationals Park and there in the middle of everything 'I saw someone' [remember those words, they're important - I. Saw. Someone.] holding up a giant black billboard with the words, "The Pope is the anti-Christ" and "Repent and be born again or burn in eternity". He also spewed bastardizations of the Gospel through his megaphone. It was pretty hard to ignore.   He drew a lot of attention.

I turned to Drew and said, "See, this is what people think of the church. This is everything that's wrong with Christianity." Drew then seriously turned to me and said with a twinkle in his eye, "You want to go take him on...?"

I wasn't in the mood for a fight, but clearly I have an issue with the way he's going about 'bringing people to Jesus.'

Unlike the man in our Gospel story who isn't 'documented,' this guy is a 'documented worker' - he goes to church and knows a lot about the Bible...And he's doing 'work' for the kingdom? God help us all.

Although, it's probably a matter of perspective. If you asked him, I'm confident he would say he most certainly is a committed follower of Christ. Since I didn't have a conversation with him, I can only guess, but I'm pretty sure he envisions his job as a disciple to save souls for heaven and he's giving it his best.

If you ask me, also a card carrying member of the Jesus Club, I'd say he's not for the kingdom, but against it, despite the fact he's making decrees in Jesus name.

But.... I have the distinct feeling that my finger wagging won't get far with Jesus, especially since He suggests that it would be better for me to slice my finger off in a Cuisinart while making a dish for the next church potluck, rather than focusing on rightness and wrongness.

Guess it's a good thing I didn't 'take him on,' as Drew suggested, otherwise I'd probably be down a tongue for my verbal assault and be donning an eye patch for the remainder of my days for the nasty glares I would've given him.

Jesus would shake his head and say to me, "For God's sake. I was kidding about the whole maiming thing. Get over yourself. You're making this whole kingdom stuff harder than it is.

Jesus doesn't seem to care if we're documented or undocumented, which can be defined in many ways: attend church or never attend church, baptized or unbaptized, Lutheran or Jewish. The list of ways we divide ourselves is innumerable.



Jesus boils it down to: Do you love well? Do you enact peace? Do you stand for equity? That is kingdom work.

The disciples thought they knew better. They had better knowledge. And they had a better handle on Jesus than anyone else, however jealousy and elitism has made them sound like 6 year olds tattle-taling to their mother, "We saw someone...".

Right? Just like, "I saw someone..."

And Jesus puts them in their place. Arrogant religious sophistication has no place in Jesus' kingdom.

Jesus has a problem with sides; at least, he has a problem with us picking them, creating them and defending them, especially in 'his name'. We get so caught up in our being right, that sometimes we miss the in breaking of the kingdom before our very eyes.

Jesus teaches that Love is the paramount expression of Authority, which is totally contrary to the way we understand authority.

Authority in our minds is linked to status, power, and knowledge, all of which allow us to exercise judgment and punishment upon those deemed lower, weaker, and frankly, dumber.

All you have to do is think about the ways I wanted to act as an authoritarian voice based on my 'knowledge' to realize my desire to demean the ball field evangelist was basically a means of punishment, of illegitimizing his citizenship in the kingdom of heaven.

And then there's the disciples who want to punish the guy who's doing work that he's not licensed to do, despite the fact that he's enacting goodness. And there's the young man who goes to complain about Eldad and Medad who are prophesying in the camp, even though they aren't supposed to.

We have all felt like this. We meet someone with whom we completely disagree either religiously or politically? Or there's a divide on how to proceed at work or a disagreement within your family? Or we think we have the right to do something and someone else does not?

And then the authoritarian in us comes out...   What's so difficult about these scenarios is typically disagreements arise not because we don't care, but because we do care. The disciples may be jealous and dense, but there's no denying they care.

Like in my example, I was upset because faith and church and God are so important to me that was convinced the sign he displayed and the message he proclaimed was doing damage in the kingdom, rather than build up faith and share love... Which I'm still convinced is true

But there's no denying the ball field evangelist cares too. A lot. [I mean, I've never gone down to Nats field and held up a giant sign declaring my love for Jesus!]

It's not my job to put a stumbling block in this man's way. It's my job to love him. It's my job to be a worker with him in the kingdom of God - a kingdom in which all are beloved citizens.

The only way I can do this is to replace my penchant for 'I saw someone...' with my faith's message of 'I see Jesus...'

Even in someone with whom I disagree, I see Jesus.

Even in the politician I despise and want to ridicule for the newest asinine remark he's made, I see Jesus.

Even in the co-worker who opposes every new idea and who's action aren't those we would take, I see Jesus.

Even in the loud, screaming, hell-doth-cometh preacher man at the ball field, I see Jesus. No matter the sign he carries.

The only way to stop the abuse of the Authority of Love is for us to stop abusing others - not only in word and deed, but in thought too. We must not crucify love.

You know the greatest sign that was ever erected we tore down. That sign was the cross and on it hung the only man who did know the fullness of right and wrong... And he allowed himself to be made wrong.

He gave up the right to be right.

The right to be loved.

The right to be justified.

The right to be accepted.

So that we might know that He would give up everything for us.

On the cross Jesus becomes 'wrong' so that we might be made 'right'... not in knowledge, but so that we might know how 'right' love can make us.

The enormity of that type of love and acceptance will bring us to our knees...

The sign of the cross is not about how much blood was spilled, not about who did the crucifying, not about religious affiliation, not proper worship, not strict or loose biblical interpretation, not about what card you carry...

The sign of the cross come down to this:

We are saved through love alone, by love alone, for love alone....and that, that is everything. Amen.