Scripture texts: Matthew 11:16-30
It was one of those landmark moments in my life, a moment I’m going to remember forever. It was probably 1984 or so, I was 11 or 12 years old. Was just starting to get interested in girls and we were in NYC, my first time there. Among the various sites my family and I had decided to see that day was the World Trade Center, long before the horror of 9/11. And as is often the case with any major tourist attraction in any large city, we had to wait in line for the elevator that would shoot us up 110 stories to the observation floor. So my family and I are standing in line and I checking out this girl about my age, maybe a little older, standing in line with her family behind us. Blonde, kinda cute. And as I’m watching, she turns to say something to her folks and rattles off something in German.
I was a little taken aback, since I presumed falsely that she was American. But then I looked around at all the other people in line with us. There were several Asians, Japanese I think, chattering away with excitement. Several folks who looked like they were from Africa. Plenty of white folks in line too, and while they looked like my folks and I, dressed like us, it was anyone’s guess if they were Americans or, like the German girl, from somewhere else. It really opened my eyes. For the first time, this WV boy got a glimpse, even if a small one, of the wider world in which we live.
When Sarah and I went to NYC for our honeymoon, we had that experience again standing in line at the Empire State Building. We likewise had it again with Emily last year over this very weekend when we were again in NYC. There’s something wondrous and magical about those moments that broaden our perspectives and open our eyes to the wonder that is the world and the universe in which we live. What we once knew explodes into something far more grand and far more wondrous that we ever imagined before. The world is more than we know.
It is this very truth that I think that Jesus often tries to teach us. That our perceptions of what is and what is not are much more limited than we care to admit. There is much more to the world that we know. That there is more to people than we know. And perhaps, most importantly, there is more to God than we know.
Our Gospel lesson is almost a lament from Jesus’ lips about how close minded we can be. He begins with comments about the resistance John the Baptist received, “For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’” And what did John teach that brought such insults? Charity to others, justice to the oppressed and downtrodden.
And then Jesus speaks of the resistance he’s received, “the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’” Again, what brought this on, teachings about compassion, mercy. But both men were guilty because they dared to say that such virtues were not the sole property of the “good people.” They dared to teach and to act and to live as if the outcasts and the unwanted deserved such honor and respect as well. Hard not to hear that phrase, “friend of tax collectors and sinners,” and not remember back two chapters to Jesus’ dinner party with the future writer of this Gospel story. He’s still paying the price for his boldness on that day, and for what?
Because he tried to show that people are not always what they seem and neither is God. Unfortunately, we usually don’t want to listen.
And sadly, that’s no less true today. For all of our advanced science and technology, for all of our vaunted public and private education systems here in 21st century America, there is also an almost surprising reverence for stupidity in our society. Ignorance is lauded, but if you’ve got learning, you’re some sort of snob. You’re uppity. It’s a bad thing to be smart. Bad thing to be educated.
The famed science-fiction writer Isaac Asimov once said “There is a cult of ignorance in the United States, and there has always been. The strain of anti-intellectualism has been a constant thread winding its way through our political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that 'my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge.”
He’s right and that’s scary. An astounding number of people really do believe that ignorance is a virtue. They don’t need to learn anything further. They got it all figured out. They know that people who look like them are good people and people who don’t are bad people. They know that if you set foot in the city, you going to be mugged and raped and murdered by gangs of criminals. They know that if you set foot in the country, you’re going to be abducted, raped, and murdered by inbred savages with crooked teeth. They know that all Muslims are terrorists and all gays are child molesters. They know that immigrants are only here to take their jobs. They know that the President was born in Kenya and that vaccines cause autism. They know a whole lot of things that are, for lack of a more delicate way to put it, bullcrap.
As bad as that sort of ignorance is, all the more so because of how commonplace it’s become, too often we do the exact same thing with the teachings of our faith. If I may dare risk meddling further, on this weekend in particular, how many good Christian folk in this country have blurred the line between nation and faith so much that they can no longer remember that God’s kingdom is NOT in fact the United States of America? How many have forgotten that God loves the people of France or Nigeria or Belgium or Argentina or anywhere else just as much as he does us? How many remember that to be Christian is not to be about flags and fireworks, but to be about service and sacrifice to ALL humankind, even the parts we don’t like?
When we forget those simple truths, we often fall into the same traps as those folks from the 1st century who stood against Jesus for daring to try to teach them otherwise. How dare he eat with tax collectors! We know what those people are really like! How dare he say God is love! No, he’s the lawgiver and if we just follow the rules, we’re okay. How dare he call us sinners! We’re the good people, the sinners are over there. How dare he tell me that all that I’ve done to be good counts for nothing because salvation is a free gift given through Christ! How dare he, indeed.
Jesus seeks to open our minds to those simple truths of our faith, and yet so often we resist. We don’t want to learn. We don’t want to be challenged. We don’t want to see the wonder that is the wider world, and a greater God than we ever imagined.
We’re afraid. We’re afraid of being wrong. We’re afraid of having to change our lives and our lifestyles to reflect these new truths. But the teachings of Christ are not to be feared. Listen to his words, some of the most famous and beloved in all of Scripture. “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
His burden is easy and light because his teachings point to things we can cling to in time of need. Life, as we have already discovered, is going to throw everything it can at us. Our stories have many moments of doubt and crisis. How do we navigate beyond them? We remember. We remember the truths that Jesus has taught us. We remember why he came to this world. We remember why he died and why he rose again. We remember the promises. Lo, I am with you always… Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ… Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here. He has risen…Be strong and courageous, for I the Lord you God is with you wherever you go. What am I doing? Quoting Scriptures from all over the Bible. Scriptures that have supported me, held me up in times of crisis. Scriptures that have been given to me, taught to me, taught to all of you. This is the benefit of learning at Christ’s feet. Tools to support us, the means to see the light in the midst of darkness.
How do we learn these things? The answer to that is simple. You learn them from preaching. You learn them in the wine and the bread and the water of our sacraments. You learn them through Bible studies, Sunday School, and other educational opportunities provided through the church. You learn them in private devotion and prayer. You also learn them by experience, by being open to the wider world. The Spirit uses whatever it can to teach us. And what he teaches points to those simple truths we hold dear. Never forget them.
God loves us. Christ lived, died, and rose again for us. They will never forsake us. This is the yoke that makes life bearable. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment