Sunday, September 16, 2018

Sermon: September 16

Almighty God, you proclaim your truth in every age by many voices: Direct, in our time, we pray, those who speak where many listen and write what many read; that they may do their part in making the heart of this people wise, its mind sound, and its will righteous; to the honor of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. – In our first reading, the prophet Isaiah speaks of his role as a teacher, to sustain the weary with the words he uses.

Our second reading from the letter of James reminds us that “the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits. How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.”

Our tongues, the words we use, are to be for the benefit others. Sadly, our words spoken and those we write (mostly through our social media habits) often are not. They represent our partisan or tribal interests, we demonize the other side, we curse those made in God’s image for they do not believe like we believe.

James is right we often get in trouble for the words we say, giving poison instead of healing words.

When Jesus asked his disciples what people were saying about him… “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.”

But as Jesus taught them about what was to come, Peter took him aside and rebuked Jesus. But Jesus turned for all to hear and rebuked Peter, reminding him to keep his mind on heavenly things and not earthly.

The words we use matter, especially we can sustain the weary, when we offer a blessing instead of a curse. And as followers of Jesus, that is part of our calling too.

Mister Rogers was once asked to meet a boy with cerebral palsy. The boy was unable to talk or walk - but he not only suffered physically but emotionally. Some of those entrusted with his care made him feel responsible for his illness, that only a very bad little boy would have to live with the things he had to live with. When the boy grew up to be a teenager, he would get so mad at himself that he would hit himself, hard, with his own fists and tell his mother on the computer he used to communicate that he didn't want to live anymore, for he was sure that God didn't like what was inside him any more than he did.

The boy had always loved Mister Rogers, and now, even when he was fourteen years old, he watched the Neighborhood whenever it was on; the boy's mother sometimes thought that Mister Rogers was keeping her son alive.

On a trip to California, Fred Rogers made time to meet the boy. At first, the boy was very anxious about meeting Mister Rogers. He was so nervous, in fact, that when Mister Rogers arrived, he got mad at himself and began hating himself and hitting himself. His mother had to take him to another room and calm him down. But Mister Rogers didn't leave. He just waited patiently, and when the boy came back, Mister Rogers talked to him, and then made this request: "I would like you to do something for me. Would you do something for me?"

On his computer, the boy answered yes, of course, he would do anything for Mister Rogers, so then Mister Rogers said, "I would like you to pray for me. Will you pray for me?" The boy was thunderstruck. Nobody had ever asked him for something like that, ever. The boy had always been prayed for, and now he was being asked to pray for Mister Rogers. At first he didn't know if he could do it, but he said he would, he said he'd try, and ever since that day he kept Mister Rogers in his prayers and didn't talk about wanting to die anymore, because he figured Mister Rogers is close to God, and if Mister Rogers liked him, then that must mean God liked him, too.

When a reporter who was there complimented Mister Rogers on how beautifully he boosted the boy's self-esteem, Fred Rogers saw the situation much differently. "Oh, heavens no, Tom! I didn't ask him for his prayers for him; I asked for me. I asked him because I think that anyone who has gone through challenges like that must be very close to God. I asked him because I wanted his intercession." [From "Can You Say . . . Hero?" by Tom Junod, Esquire, November 1998.]

Words matter. Mr. Rogers knows this and in a simple gesture helps a young man in his life, he sustained him in a beautiful way, and likewise was sustained himself. We are called to help each other.

One pastor calls it the “church downstairs.” For years, Alcoholic Anonymous has met in the church hall every day of the week, sometimes twice a day. The supportive pastor started thinking of those meetings as the “church downstairs” after a new parishioner told him how she came to join the parish after first going “downstairs” for several months. The priest occasionally sits in on the meetings and it has helped him understand what it means to be “church.” Three things about AA have struck him:

First, there is a “genuine and low-key sense” of welcoming. But it is not simply a matter of a designated greeter shaking every new hand. In fact, “AA is at its most hospitable after the meeting is over. No one is bolting for the door when the last word is pronounced. Instead, people stay around for another cup of coffee, especially if someone new has joined them.”

The second thing the pastor has noticed is how the “church downstairs” rallies around the weak, the powerless, and the hurting. “Even those some might relegate to the social fringe are met with acceptance in the group, not least because a common denominator — We are all powerless over alcohol — remains central.”

And the third thing that Alcoholics Anonymous groups demonstrate so well, the pastor admires, is “the belief that everyone has a story to tell and a right to be heard. This belief is essential not only to the Twelve Steps, but to the sense of commonality and communion that is generated in the group. Everyone can learn something from another person’s story . . . ”

Welcoming strangers. Lifting the weak and struggling. Listening to what everyone has to say. Maybe that’s why they need more chairs at the “church downstairs.” [From “The Church Downstairs: What Catholics Can Learn from Alcoholics Anonymous” by Father Nonomen, Commonweal, July 13, 2012.]

Taking up the cross of Jesus, mirrors Jesus' call to us in baptism, to take up his work in the service we give and the respect we afford to others through our words. As Fred Rogers understood by requesting this suffering boy's prayers, only in putting ourselves in the humble service of the poorest and neediest, of the forgotten and the rejected, can we come to know the love of God in our lives. By offering comforting words to the weary, in a community of support, AA becomes the church downstairs.

May we do the same upstairs here and in our own lives. Before you speak, before you post, think about your words, the meme you are about to post. Does it sustain the weary? Is it a blessing or a curse? Amen.

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