PEOPLE'S CHURCH OF DOVER

John 12:20-33                                                      Making Room for All God's People

Sermon March 29, 2009:  People's United Church of Christ, Dover, DE:  The Rev. Dan Griggs

 

            Back in the days when Robert Briscoe, a Jew, was Lord Mayor of Dublin, Ireland, he made a trip to tour the United States.  Everywhere he went everybody wanted to blarney-up the Irish.  At a formal breakfast in Boston a Catholic priest, Father Joseph Manton, was asked to offer the grace.  Knowing that Lord Mayor Briscoe was Jewish, the good father prayed as follows:[1]

 

Father Manton was showing what it means to be an inclusive people, and he did it with great humor and good sense.  Wouldn't it be great if we could all be so welcoming to people not like us. 

 

            In today's Gospel Lesson Jesus is in Jerusalem for the Feast of Passover.  He has been teaching every day in the temple courtyard, and every day the authorities have swarmed over him with challenges.  The Gospel of John then tells this story about "some Greeks."  The word used to describe them suggests that they were converted Gentiles from Greece, not Jews living there.[2]  They were foreigners, outsiders, strangers in these here parts.  They probably made a lot of mistakes about when to bow, and where to take off their shoes, and what parts of the temple grounds they couldn't enter.  But it's these "Greeks" who come asking to see Jesus.  They approached Philip first—he was from Galilee and probably spoke passable Greek; but he didn't know what to say, so he asked Andrew what to do.  They talked it over between them and decided to go tell Jesus and let Jesus decide what to do.  Meanwhile these Greeks are standing there, waiting like you do when you call your dentist and get put on hold.  And that's the end of the story.  We never find out whether these Greeks got to talk with Jesus or not:  the Gospel of John launches into one of its rambling explanations of what Jesus was doing.  I'd like to think that they did get to see him, but evidently that's not the point the writer was trying to make.  It seems to me that the point of the story is this:  when the temple authorities rejected Jesus while foreigners sought him out, it was a signal to Jesus that the time had come to fulfill his mission:

And, of course, we know that during the life-time of the apostles Christianity broke out from being just a Jewish denomination and included the Gentiles—included "those other people" that some early Christians weren't really sure ought to be permitted in.  To such a point of view the Gospel of John also has Jesus say this:

Fellowship with Jesus is not just an individual thing:  we are mandated to become an inclusive people. 

            When we, here in People's Church, celebrate Holy Communion, I always try to include either in my invitation to commune or in the worship bulletin the words:  "Whoever you are, wherever you are in your life's journey, you are welcome at the Table of Christ."  It's an "extravagant welcome" that our denomination, the United Church of Christ, is trying to embody all across America; and as we can see today, it's rooted in the very words of Jesus:  "I will draw all people to myself." 

            Jesus is like the center of a bicycle wheel, and all humankind are the spokes.  The closer each one of us gets to the center, to Jesus, the closer we get to each other too.  If we think about what we're supposed to be doing as we live out our Christianity, we will be an inclusive people.

 

            I went online last week and pulled up the UCC website, then did a "Search" on the phrase "extravagant welcome."  It gave me this little essay, published last October—it begins with one of the sentences you usually hear around UCC gatherings.[3]

That's not all the essay says, but we get the idea.  This is not intended to be cultural liberalism, or political correctness, or any of the other agendas that have become widespread in secular culture in our time.  This is not the left wing of the Democratic Party at prayer.  This is not a social standard to prove how "open-minded" we are.  The only thing we have to prove, we prove to Jesus Christ—the one who said:

            Are we perfect at it?  Hardly.  We're still trying to figure out what some of it means and how it should affect our lives as individuals, as well as our lives as a fellowship of believers.  Do we make mistakes?  Of course.  Are there gaps in our practice?  Certainly.  All these different people don't always understand each other very well.  That's why I say that the church is unique in the world in getting together regularly to confess our sins.  But we have embraced that scripture verse that's printed on the UCC logo:  "that they may all be one."  Part of our task is making room for all God's people.  We aim to be an inclusive people. 

 

            Now why am I preaching about being an inclusive people during Lent?  Aren't we supposed to be denying ourselves pleasures, examining our lives to root out greed and lust and pride?  Isn't Lent about getting ready morally to receive the salvation that Jesus accomplished for us in his death and resurrection on Easter?  Inclusiveness seems like it's off the subject. 

            But Jesus mandated our inclusiveness in the same sentence with the words "when I am lifted up"—he meant on the Cross.  If I desire to be a disciple of Jesus, to follow his example in my own life, then part of my Lenten self-review is going to be about my relationship to other people, not just my own private morality.  I am disciplined by the Spirit of Christ to lay aside the racial prejudice I was taught as a child growing up in the South.  I am disciplined to meet each person for who that person is, and not for the stereotypes of my culture.  And this discipleship, this discipline is not just personal:  it's mandated not just for "me" but also for "us"—the people of Christ are invited, urged, pleaded with, reminded about, cajoled, converted, inspired, transformed to be an inclusive people. 

            Yes, this, too, is Lenten repentance.  I had a friend in college who graduated and went to New York City to interview for a job.  It was 1967, and he spoke with a strong Southern accent:  there were a lot of preconceived notions all over the country about who believed what and who acted how.  About halfway through the interview they asked him, "When did you stop being a racist?"  Without batting an eye Randy answered, "When I met Jesus." 

            America is being challenged now by another kind of prejudice—a prejudice against Muslims.  It's difficult for us to comprehend the rich diversity of the Muslim cultures because since 9-11 most of the pictures of Muslims we've seen have shown them shooting at American military personnel.  This is a big challenge for the church, because it not only crosses cultural and language barriers but religious barriers as well; and it's easy to misinterpret what's going on when several people are having a conversation in a language you don't understand.  It comes as a surprise to learn that Muslims hold Jesus in reverence and see his cross as many Christians do.  Is it not included in our Lenten self-review to attend to our unease on this issue?  The people of the Middle East will never be like us:  we need to get used to it and learn how to love across that barrier.

            I'm trying to learn Latin American Spanish these days.  I'm finding out that learning a foreign language at my age isn't nearly as easy as it was when I was in my twenties—by the time I was twenty-five I could translate five languages besides English, and I could speak in several of them.  The reason I want to learn Latin American Spanish is so that I can talk to people.  That sounds simple enough.  The majority of people living in Delaware now whose first language is Spanish—the majority of them are legal immigrants.  Most of them grew up in church.  Have you noticed the number of new Hispanic churches appearing around Dover?  These people are our sisters and brothers in Christ:  they are spokes on that same bicycle wheel; and the closer I get to Jesus the closer I am to them.  I'd like to be able to carry on at least a basic conversation with them.  This, too, is a Lenten self-review issue. 

 

            When those Greeks came to Philip and asked to meet Jesus, Jesus responded by talking about his world-mission of redemption in such a way that he mandated his followers to become an inclusive people.  There's an early twentieth century poem that puts it pretty well, written by Edwin Markham, titled "Outwitted":[4]

Jesus invites you and me to join him in outwitting the way the world is.

AMEN