The Rev. Charleston Wilson
The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost (B)
Church of the Redeemer
In the Name of the Living God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Did you hear that word “stranger” in the Epistle? “Stranger” – what a word!
I was told not to speak to strangers in grammar school. You probably were told the same thing.
Ironically, in tiny Linden, Alabama, with a population of fewer than 2,000, there were, in fact, no strangers. I knew everyone, and they knew me. And this reality posed quite a problem for me, because my parents knew all the mischief I’d gotten into before I could even get home from school to present my side of the story. I never got a fair trial!
We tried a few years ago to stress the idea of “stranger danger” to our then five-year-old extroverted daughter, Camille. Malacy sternly quizzed her one afternoon, after we’d picked her up from pre-school, saying, “Camille, what would you do if a stranger pulled up and asked you for the password to collect you from school?” Camille, said, “Duh, Mom, I would never give out the password, unless he was in a really nice car and looked like a lot of fun!” Help me, Jesus!
Camille aside, there is something about encountering strangers that strikes a chord of unease in our minds. And while we certainly must safeguard the most vulnerable among us, I have watched the concept of “stranger danger” develop into a society-wide panic that instinctively assumes all strangers pose some kind of existential threat.
The great irony, of course, is that we all start out as strangers. Every single person near and dear to you, and every single person near and dear to me, was technically once a stranger. And we once were strangers to them. That’s just how it works.
In the second chapter of St. Paul’s letter to the Church at Ephesus, which was circulated within a community of both Jewish and Gentile Followers of Jesus, he reminds the Gentiles that they were also once strangers – “strangers to the covenants of promise,” he says.
But, most importantly, St. Paul makes clear that all who are in Christ – regardless of past, present or future – are “no longer strangers and foreigners — but “fellow citizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (Ephesians 2:19).
The good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ – perhaps the best news – is that Christians, people just like you and me, are no longer strangers to God!
There are no strangers in God’s kingdom: we are citizens! We are family rooted in the Living Jesus in whom “the whole structure is joined together,” and being built up, by grace, growing “into [that] holy temple in the Lord” that you and I call Church of the Redeemer.
But, you know, I meet a lot of people – a lot of Christians like you and me – who still act like God hasn’t made us part of the family of grace, who keep going on, spiritually at least, as if God is a complete stranger. I call this condition “spiritual stranger aversion.” I made that term up, but I think it works.
And when I think of this stranger aversion, I think of when I used to travel for work several days every week, and I think of that total stranger inevitably sitting by me in the middle seat of that redeye domestic flight to some rather un-romantic domestic work destination – like Tulsa or Tupelo.
Seriously, strangers on airplanes are a whole new level of stranger! I had one guy lick his fingers sitting next to me after eating a Whopper during takeoff! I wanted to chew off part of my sleeve and give it to him.
And when you glance at airplane strangers, as you settle-into your shared piece of real estate, you just pray your eyes don’t meet! Eye contact is the kiss of death on an airplane, because, if eyes meet, then you actually have to talk to the stranger – and you end up talking about your own aunt or cousin who also likes travelling with scrapbooks of her deceased cats. You know this stuff happens; the truth is always stranger than fiction!
But, isn’t it just the opposite with God? He isn’t trying to avoid intimate eye contact! He’s trying to make contact – the deepest, most meaningful contact ever – with you and with me, giving Himself to us over and over, which He does every time we gather, in the Sacrament of the altar, to remind us that we are family – citizens of the household of God.
And, if He can give Himself totally and fully to us in the altar – Body, soul and divinity – if He keeps making the first move, if you will, don’t you think that you and I might realize it’s time to respond likewise – to open up to Him and stop acting like He is the stranger?
I believe, with every fibre of my being, that if He can give Himself to us through His Son, born in abject poverty so that we might become rich in grace, if He can give himself to us stripped naked and murdered on a cross to pay for our sins – all to prove His love – it’s high time you and I get to know Him not as a stranger, but as friend!
But, this approach has risks, of course. If our eyes meet, if we speak to Him and we get to know Him more intimately, through prayer, Holy Scripture and the Sacraments, I’m going to be sharing some things with Him I’ve never told anyone, things I don’t want known.
Isn’t it amazing how much we fear our loving and forgiving Heavenly Father? And I’m not talking about that good kind of fear – that feeling of holy awe and reverence we all should have. I’m talking about being afraid to go further, to really stand before the Loving Lord with all our baggage and get to know the One who already knows us, who created us, forgives us and has called us to new life in His son, Jesus Christ.
I think we are all (all!) deeply afraid of getting punished, getting slapped on the wrist for those things “done and left undone.” You know, I have to admit it: Satan does a great job of convincing us that we are still estranged from God, relentlessly whispering our shame and guilt to us each and every day.
But St. John is absolutely right: “There is no fear in love, because perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment.”
You and I are being “perfected in love” by the power of grace, because we are not strangers to God.
Sermon preached by the Rev. Charleston D. Wilson
Church of the Redeemer
Sarasota Florida
9th Sunday after Pentecost
22 July 2018