It is great to be here at St. Mary’s this morning. I have a long connection to this parish and it is good to be back once again. I am grateful for so many aspects of this parish. For the community connections, the outreach, the Christian formation, the concern for others, the Halloween neighbourhood connection, the response to the gospel in a variety of ways. I am grateful to Lindsay and her ministry here and in different parts of the Diocese. I am grateful to Roberta for her ministry here and in lots of places in the Diocese, particularly when she did so much interim work in a variety of parishes. I am grateful to all of you for your commitment to living out your baptismal vows here and in a whole variety of ways. It is good to be here.
I read an article a few days ago which was published in The New York Times, entitled There’s a Path out of this Divide, written by David French. It began in this way, and I warn you it is a bit shocking: (Quite recently)“An evil man rammed his truck into a Mormon church in Grand Blanc, Michigan, opened fire on the people inside and lit the church on fire. By the time the embers cooled and the bodies were counted, we learned that four people were killed and eight were injured—another terrible day in a series of terrible days in a nation that can feel as if it’s coming apart.”
It was a horrendous story, but we sort of get numb to these stories, don’t we? Oh, it’s not intentional, but it is hard to take them all in and somehow live with them. As I read the article, I assumed that it would discuss the horrors of this situation, and believe me, there are horrors, but then we would all get back to pretending it did not happen in Michigan or somewhere else in the world. That we simply blame certain people or situations, but not be willing to do anything about it. You know the type of article, lots of questions but no answers. We can live this in our own lives as well, of course, blame certain people or certain places or certain situations to try to minimize things so that we don’t have to get too involved, so that things don’t overwhelm us, so that we can protect ourselves a little bit. It makes sense because the horrors of this world can mount up and overwhelm us. We need ways to shield ourselves and deflect things a little bit. God, I thank you that I am not like other people we might say or pray or offer. And I will come back to this prayer.
But this article didn’t go there. Instead, it went in a direction I was not expecting. The article continued about the situation in Michigan, “But then something remarkable happened—something entirely unexpected. A member of the church started an online fundraising campaign… for the family of the shooter. He was killed at the scene and had left behind a wife and a young child.” In two hours, it raised $7000, which became $100,000 and then $300,000. One of the people who donated offered these words to the shooter’s family: “We are heartbroken as we think of what you are going through. You are loved and precious, just as much as any other family. We hope that you will have everything you need, both now and in the years to come.”
I was flabbergasted, quite honestly. How could people be willing to respond in such a way, in this world, at this time? Compassion, despite some of the greatest griefs.
And then I read the parable that Jesus offered to a crowd that had gathered around him long ago and it too got me thinking about a few things.
You just heard the parable, and so I don’t need to repeat it, but let me retell it with a different angle and different words.
You see, there was this religious leader who went off to pray. He was one of those wealthy religious types that everyone knew they were supposed to respect. You know funny hat, fancy robes, maybe a purple shirt. You know the type. He was pretty sure that he had this God thing all figured out. He knew what God wanted, and he was confident that what God wanted was what he was offering God. He read the Bible, followed the commandments, said his prayers, received the sacraments. He was the model person of faith even if he said so himself. Maybe you know what I mean. People respected him, after all he had a role in society, a special title, a space at the important tables. He knew what this faith thing was all about, and he had it mastered, God was in his back pocket, he was confident of that. And he expected people to see that in him.
And he went to offer his prayers and he offered this pretty good prayer if he did say so himself. God, he prayed, do you mind if I call you God? I thought so. “God, I thank you that I am not like other people…” and so he prayed. And he told God all about those other people. And we can probably imagine who he prayed about and how he described what they did. Perhaps you yourself have prayed such prayers for many of us have. O God, I am glad that I am not like them… and those “them” have been many folks down through the centuries that we have added to an imagined list that God keeps. And people still keep these kinds of lists and it continues to cause all sorts of problems even in the world of today. You would think that we would have learned. But you know what I mean, lots of people have been placed on that list: the poor, the homeless, the immigrant, the stranger, the queer, those of different ethnicity, women, the divorced, addicts, the mentally ill, Indigenous people, non-Christians, those differently abled, the lepers of all kinds and the list goes on for some time. You know the list, you have seen it. And you know people still pray that prayer and might even assume that it is indeed a pretty good prayer. And I can understand that. I can understand that… until we stop and think about one tiny fact. And that is that we are followers of Jesus Christ and then it all falls apart. This Jesus we proclaim doesn’t let us get away with any of this smugness. It is annoying, I have to tell you, but he always seems to turn things around on us and make it all so complicated just when we had it all so neatly organized and worked out. Who’s in and who’s out.
You see the parable continued. And after the religious leader had finished his fine prayer, he sort of high-fived himself for all that he had done and assumed that God had listened intently to every word he uttered. But it seems that God in fact was too busy listening to someone else’s prayer.
You see this tax collector, one of those people. You can insert whoever or whatever title you want but in Jesus’ parable it was a tax collector. But this tax collector stood a ways off and had tears in her eyes and concern on her heart. This tax collector seemed to be realizing something that often gets lost in this faith thing. She was a terrible pray-er but she offered the most beautiful of prayers. She could not look at herself or anywhere where God might hide. And so in barely a whisper, but with a wisdom that bowled over the religious elite of that day and our day, she said but a few words… but if you take them seriously they will affect how you live each and every day. For this annoying Jesus that we were baptized into made sure everyone could hear it. She said in but seven words all that could awaken us to what it means to be a person of faith, not the robes, not the fame, not the glory, not the recognition, not the prestige… but the humility of saying words that will trouble you each morning if you dare to offer them from your heart. She prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” That was it. But if they sink in you will never be the same again.
And a group of people in Michigan, not all that long ago prayed this prayer. And suddenly they were offering money to support the family of someone who had tried to kill some of their friends, family and community. They couldn’t simply blame the other, they recognized the other was in them as well and they were not going to let that other win out.
This morning, Steven and Philip are being received. Now to be received is to revisit one’s baptism and say that you take seriously these words of Jesus and want to be transformed by them. It is saying that these are not idle words but words that will shape and change and helps us evolve into what God is hoping of us. And Philip and Steven I hope and pray that you can hold this before us.
For we are called to be part of the light that the world desperately needs right now. We are called to be part of bringing hope instead of shattering it. We are called to be part of ending a cycle of hate even though it is tempting to simply jump on that bandwagon. We are called to find that different path because we believe in Jesus Christ. We believe that we are called to let his annoying and challenging words get to us and change us and transform us and renew us and bless us. We believe that we too are called to say: God be merciful to me a sinner. For it is true. And it changes everything.