Teach Us to Pray

Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts

July 28, 2019              7 Pentecost

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

            Jesus taught his disciples how to pray, at their request mind you, because they have seen him praying in that “certain place”, and they want to learn how to pray just like him. Or maybe they compared him to John the Baptist, who also taught his disciples how to pray. “Why don’t you teach us just like him?” they might have asked Jesus. Getting a text from someone while he was praying, Jesus responded immediately. “This is how you do it,” he said. “Just pray these six short phrases and you’re done.”

Not really; for Jesus then told his disciples that they needed to persist in their prayers. It’s not a matter of “one and done.” Like the man who ran out of bread in the middle of the night, and persisted in knocking on his friend’s door, Jesus told them that they should keep on praying. It wasn’t the friendship that mattered in this midnight run. No, it was the man’s annoying persistence. In today’s jargon, we might tell them to “keep on trucking” or “keep on, keeping on!” with their prayers.

According to this story, the man first told his friend at the door to go away, but the friend persisted. Having pressed the snooze button many times, the man finally got out of bed just to stop the racket outside. Flinging open the door to his home, he told his friend, probably not in the most hospitable voice, to take whatever he needed and go home so that he could go back to bed! Persistence trumps friendship, said Jesus.

The request for bread, quite frankly, doesn’t seem to warrant such urgency; but then I am living an extremely privileged life. In truth, I’m a little appalled that this man is pounding on the door of his friend because he needs bread for his guest. Can’t it wait until the morning? Presumably, he has a home, and so, isn’t there some hummus, or grapes, or dried fruit in his kitchen that he could offer his guest until the morning?  Really, I wondered, what’s so important about bread that this man leaves his guest in the middle of the night to go to his friend’s house and knock on his door?

Now what comes next in Luke’s gospel seems equally as annoying to me. Jesus claims that if we are persistent in our prayers, we will also get what we ask for. When we search for something lost, God will find it for us. When we knock on the door of God’s mansion, which has many rooms, God won’t tell us to go away because his children are sleeping and God is too. No, Jesus says, God will get out of his king size bed and respond. Opening the door in the middle of that dark night, God will not be annoyed, nor will God tell the servants to fetch whatever is needed. Indeed, God will personally and graciously hand over the goods. Goods as simple as daily bread. Gifts that are good and won’t hurt us like a snake or a scorpion.

             You would think that praying would be simple; and yet, for many people it’s not. Although basic, prayers can be hard to understand, let alone do, which is why I have a gazillion books written on the subject. Prayer is both a holy mystery and a simple task; and I’ve found that my prayer life keeps changing over my lifetime, rising like yeast, then getting stale, or becoming flat like unleavened bread. My prayers come in all sizes and shapes, colors and tastes. They can be home-made or store bought, sliced thin, or with a thick crust. We all pray differently; I like multigrain bread with lots of seeds, while my husband prefers toasted Italian.

Fortunately, we have a basic text book that we call The Book of Common Prayer. For us Episcopalians, this book is like having a religion course called Prayer 101. With this book in hand, we don’t have to rely on the Holy Spirit to teach us how to pray. We can just read the lines that are right in front of us. Besides Jesus already taught us how to pray using those six simple lines from scripture.

Perhaps you, like me, will resort to the Lord’s prayer, when you’re in a pinch or on the spot and don’t have a book in front of you. It’s one of those prayers that serves us well when we’re feeling at a loss for words, we don’t know what to say, or how to pray. And yet, we forget that Jesus also promised to send us the Holy Spirit to teach us those things that he could not teach us while he was among us.

As St. Paul reminded the Christians in Rome, the Holy Spirit “helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes (for us) with sighs too deep for words.” Is this not what Jesus said in Luke’s gospel, that our “heavenly Father will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask?" When we ask, seek, and knock on God’s door, God will give us God’s Spirit, who knows what we need. It may not be exactly what we want, and may even be something we don’t like. It may even hurt a little bit, but it won’t kill us like deadly venom; and so we persist in our prayers. For God’s Spirit will help, heal, teach, comfort, and guide us.

When I am desperate, that is when I am asking, and knocking, and seeking something that I need or want in the middle of my dark night, I persist with my “arrow prayers.” These are prayers that come from my heart, like that man who was pounding persistently on the door of his friend. I ask God, “Please, help me.” Or dropping to my knees in fear, I quietly whisper these very same words. When we pray like this, our words rarely come out in “stained glass voices” or from a book. We beg the Spirit, or Jesus, or Mary to intercede for us, to wake up our sleeping God. We ask God to get out of bed, and give us the bread that we need today.

To be honest, I have prayed fervently and faithfully throughout my life with mixed results. There were times when I could not pray at all, and so I leaned on those who could. My requests have never been for actual bread, but rather requests for help. Unfortunately, God has not delivered the goods on more than one occasion. To be fair, sometimes it was a time delay, or unfamiliar packaging, that confused or disappointed me. And then, there have been those moments when God has delivered what seemed like manna from heaven, and I have been overcome with gratitude. My prayers of supplication and petition have then turned to prayers of adoration and thanksgiving.

As N.T. Wright once wrote, our prayers are often because “we’re usually in some sort of mess and we want God to get us out of it. Or we have some fairly pressing needs, like bread in the middle of the night, and we want God to supply them.” (The Lord and His Prayer) Because these things can lead us astray, forgiveness is part of our prayers. While God is not Marie Kondo, the one who promises to declutter our lives, reorganize our closets, and sort out our problems, we do know that God has forgiven us, loves us, and gives us the power and courage to do what we can, through the gift of God’s Holy Spirit.

On my credenza at home I have a sign that says “prayer changes things.” While I remain unconvinced about whether or not prayer changes things, I do know that prayer changes me, and sometimes even changes other people or events. And so it has always been a comfort to me when I hear Jesus say “this is how you pray” and when scripture tells me that the Holy Spirit knows what’s going on in my life and in our world. In the meantime, I “pray as I can, not as I can’t.” Or as Brother David from SSJE will say, “If a certain place or way of praying is not helpful to you, then don’t do it. Find something that is helpful.”

These days, I pray much less formally at home. I build my prayer muscles at Body Pump classes, and defend myself against evil spirits in Body Combat. I go for long walks along the Charles and find peace in Body Flow, stretching places that have become tight with fear. Sitting in my living room in silence, I ponder life’s blessings and challenges, as I piece together my latest puzzle, letting God’s Spirit search me out and make things known. All in all, I believe that we pray through our words and actions on a daily basis; and that holy mysteries and simple tasks are part of that process.

I love being part of a community of faith because it holds me accountable to a life of prayer, of listening to the words of Jesus as recorded in scripture, and hearing what the Spirit is saying to God’s people in church. When  Jesus teaches me to pray, saying “Our Father,” I acknowledge that we are all beloved children of God.

Recently Pope Francis approved a change in the wording of the Lord’s prayer. Instead of saying, “Do not bring us to the time of trial or temptation” we can pray “Do not let us fall” absolving God from all blame for our human sins. Our prayers change over time; we use words when necessary. In the Eucharistic prayer, I thank God for Jesus, who is the Word of God, and who said, “I am the bread of life and whoever comes to me shall never perish.”

In 1996, N. T. Wright wrote, “If you think it was relevant for Jesus to teach his disciples over 2000 years ago how to pray, then how much more for us even today.” And so we pray, as Jesus taught his disciples, then and now. Amen.

Genesis 18:20-32

Psalm 138

Colossians 2:6-15, (16-19)

Luke 11:1-13

Worried and Distracted

            

Emmanuel Church, Wakefield, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

July 21, 2019  6 Pentecost

             It’s good to be with you again this morning in Wakefield. And thank you for your gracious and warm welcome last Sunday. Frankly, with almost 100 degrees of heat today, I was hoping you would welcome me with a little less warmth! But here we are - ready to worship God, to sit and listen to what the Spirit is saying to God’s people, and to be fed at Christ’s Table!

I had a delightful time this past week with my dear friends from Ireland. I had worked for the Dean of Christ Church Cathedral in Dublin a few years ago, and Dermot and his wife Celia are currently traveling in the United States with the Cathedral choir. They started their tour in Washington D.C. at the National Cathedral, then came here to Old South Church in Boston, and this weekend they are singing at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine in NYC. Despite the summer heat, thunderstorms and pouring rain, the Wednesday evening concert had about 200 people in attendance. With tears in my eyes, I sat and listened with awe and wonder to their music. It was heavenly.

Thank you also for some of your inquiries last Sunday about my grandsons and the Celtics basketball team. This afternoon, I will fly to Minnesota for a few days to be with my daughter and her husband to help them care for their 4 month old twin boys. Every three hours, the boys need food. Their diapers need changing. The dog needs walking. And Mom and Dad need more sleep and something to eat. I will sit and listen to my grandsons cry and suck and coo; and I will sit and listen to the joys and struggles of these first-time parents. I will also get up and do what is needed to help. I’ll go to the kitchen and make a meal, or two, or three.

In between working on things related to my vocation as a priest and a family member, I’ve also been listening to various comments about the Celtics basketball team. They’ve lost some super stars, and there are some lingering resentments. I have high hopes for the upcoming season and am excited about the new team members. No wonder I’ve been feeling a little distracted this week, a little bit like Martha in today’s gospel lesson; and yet, you know what they say, “if you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.”

 Last week, we heard Jesus tell the lawyer about the good Samaritan, the man who was moved by pity to stop and care for a wounded stranger lying on the side of the road. According to the story, neither a priest nor a Levite stopped, but Jesus doesn’t tell us why. The road to Jericho was known for its robbers, and maybe they thought he was a distraction, a decoy for an ambush by those lying in wait. Or maybe, like me, they were simply distracted by their “to do” lists, or perhaps worried about someone at home. I imagine them walking with their heads down, in deep thought or prayer, looking at their cell phones, and blind to the needs of those around them. Clearly these two men could have been worried and distracted by many things; but who knows? And who’s to judge? Not me!

 Not unlike them, or me, or perhaps you, Jesus accused Martha of being worried and distracted by many things as well. Now last week, Jesus told the lawyer to “Go and do like” the good Samaritan. Today, Jesus doesn’t tell Mary to get up and get going; but rather he tells Martha to get out of the kitchen and “Sit and listen.”  “So, which is it?” I ask myself. “Am I supposed to “go and do” or “sit and listen?”  “How do we inherit eternal life?” the lawyer asked Jesus last week. “Are we justified by our good works or by our faith?” I want to ask Jesus. "And which, exactly, is the better part?"

Joy Douglas Strome once wrote, “The story of the good Samaritan becomes the illustration of how (to) love one’s neighbor. The story of Martha and Mary (shows us how to) love God. Luke is (trying to) define discipleship for the early church, and these two stories begin to pave (the) way.” ( Xian Century, July 10 2007) Discipleship is a way of life that includes both receiving and giving, both sitting and doing. Both Martha and Mary are disciples; and today Jesus is saying that the only thing they need is to first receive God’s love and listen to what God is saying.

I must confess that we have a lot of Marthas in our family, all saints of God to be sure. You can find them in the kitchen, in our homes, at our desks, and on our jobs. As busy beavers, we are worried and distracted by many things, and so we multitask to get the job done. When Jesus says, “Go and do,” we can’t get going fast enough, that is, until we begin to feel resentful about the loads that we are carrying. Turning to Jesus, and pointing to a family member, we will say, “Please tell her to get up and help me." And yet Jesus may say to us, “Please, just sit down for a little while and listen to God.” This is the better part.

Our society and culture, indeed many of our families of origin, will encourage us to stay busy. They say that being “idle” is supposedly the devil’s playground, and being a Christian means being active. At times, we may feel unworthy if we aren’t helping like good Samaritans. We may only feel valuable if we can satisfy someone else’s needs or fix someone’s problems. And then there are those people who will just sit there and keep on taking, never lifting a hand to help, fueling our resentments.

 Fortunately, as this morning’s collect says, God knows our necessities before we ask and our ignorance in asking. God has compassion on our weakness, and mercifully will give us those things which for our unworthiness we dare not, and for our blindness we cannot ask. Jesus invites us to sit down for a little while, and listen to the voice of the Spirit, so that we know what we need, and how loved we are by God. Then Jesus invites us to get up and go, and to be good Samaritans.

Our family has struggled with many diseases over the course of our years together. We know about the challenges of alcoholism and lung cancer, mental illness and dementia. Like the prophet Amos, we know about lamentations and mourning, about fearful days and sleepless nights. We have seen our summer fruit turn into a bowl of pits, and have thirsted for springs of living water. In silence, we have strained to hear the words of our Lord, listening for answers to our questions, and looking for a balm for our wounds.

It is through both good times and hard times that I can relate to the story of Mary and Martha. When worried and distracted, I am reminded of Mary to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen. When I find myself demanding help from others, or begging for mercy, and when the kitchen gets too hot, I will turn to the serenity prayer, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I am also reminded of Martha, that it is good to get up and go, and to do something however small. I know how valuable the ministry of hospitality is, how good it feels to be warmly welcomed by friends into a home or church, and provided with food and drink.

Distractions and worries abound in all of us; and today Jesus calls us to stop. Stop what we are doing, and sit and listen, before we stand up and start doing once again. Anthony Robinson wrote that “the irony is that healing - whether of a disfiguring ailment of the flesh (like leprosy), or of diseases like alcoholism (or mental illness), or of a broken spirit (that leads us to despair), or of a crippling arrogance (that makes us think that we don’t need medication or help), always begins when we acknowledge our vulnerability, our inability to be in charge, when we encounter a grace and power beyond our own.” (p.9 Pulpit Resource, Vol 29, No. 3, Year C, July, August, September 2001) Our healing begins when we sit at the feet of Jesus; and our power to do something comes from God.

Initially, people may think that Jesus was saying that Mary is the better disciple, and yet this is not true. Rather Jesus is saying that everyone is called to be his disciples, and our discipleship will take many forms. It is not an either/or engagement - a “pots and pans Martha” versus a “googly-eyed listening Mary.” We are all diverse, multi-faceted, uniquely beautiful creations of God, who are called to receive God’s love and then to share God’s love in many and various ways. Sometimes we will go and do; other times we will sit and listen. “Don’t set up some abstract standard for how real discipleship is supposed to look,” said William Willimon. (p.17 Pulpit Resource)

Today’s story about Mary and Martha, indeed of the good Samaritan, is only a snapshot of our lives. If we watch our home movies, we will see ourselves leaving the kitchen in order to spend some time with Jesus. We will also see ourselves getting up to clean the pots and pans because someone else has done the cooking.

Today, be Mary. Sit down and listen to what the Spirit is saying to you. And then go and do something. Get back in that hot kitchen and be Martha. And do not worry. Jesus will give you food and drink for your journey.

Amos 8:1-12

Psalm 52

Colossians 1:15-28

Luke 10:38-42

The Plumb Line

July 14, 2019, 5 Pentecost

Emmanuel Church, Wakefield

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

           There are so many presenting social issues these days that I find it overwhelming to even think about them, let alone try to do something about them. There is the on-going humanitarian crisis on our borders and throughout our world, as people migrate from one place to another for various reasons. We have concerns about climate change; and the recent earthquakes in California were reported as a “wake up call” for all of us. When it comes to the opiod crisis and addictions, I find myself personally frustrated with this baffling and cunning disease, one that easily crosses all socio-economic boundaries and borders. Indeed in a recent survey, people were asked about the “very big” problems in our country today. The number one answer, that is 70% of the responders, said drug addiction.(Christian Century, July 3, 2019)

            It was the plumb line of Amos that brought social issues into sharper focus for me. I had been involved with a coalition of churches in Connecticut which had created a transitional living facility for homeless women and children. We called it Amos House, notably after the prophet in today’s Old Testament lesson. Amos had left the fields in his hometown of Bethlehem, where he worked as a shepherd, to speak God’s words of judgment to those who lived in Samaria, and the cities located in the northern kingdom of Israel.

According to HarperCollins Study Bible, the message of Amos is “direct and uncompromising. Over and over he announces to the people of Israel that, because of their social injustice and religious arrogance, the Lord will punish them by means of a total military disaster.” Indeed it was only 50 years later that the king of Assyria, which is current day Iran, began to aggressively incorporate both Syria and Israel into his empire. The conflict in the Middle East remains of concern to all of us even today.

Amos believed that he had been called by God to sound the warning bell, not just to the Israelites but to other countries as well. He told them that they had violated standards of international conduct. They lacked integrity, and accused them of religious corruption, exploitation of young girls, and prosperity for a few people at the expense of many. Amos spoke about the lack of legal due processes in their courts and the enslavement of people because of debts. You have forgotten your covenant with God and chased after false idols, Amos prophesied. You have neglected the needy among you. You are a self-indulgent society and this plumb line reveals that your lives are crooked. “Prepare to meet your God,” warned Amos.

            In true rabbinic fashion, the lawyer, a teacher of the law of Moses, was preparing himself for eternal life by testing Jesus. He asked questions because he wanted to be justified, that is to say, he wanted to be made right in the eyes of God and his fellow Jews. He wanted his plumb line to hang straight. “Who is my neighbor?” he asked Jesus, “and how can I inherit eternal life.”

            In addition to the plumb line, Amos uses four other images to paint a picture of God’s impending judgment. Locusts will come like a plague and destroy your crops. Fire will reign down from heaven like a lightning bolt in the middle of a summer storm, striking your boat in Boston Harbor and setting it ablaze. Your basket of summer fruit will rot and you’ll never see the time of the fall harvest. And then, in his final and most disturbing vision, Amos says he saw the Lord standing beside the altar giving orders for the total destruction of their people.

Are we shaking in our boots yet? Like the lawyer in today’s gospel, we too might start asking Jesus these very same questions. We might wonder, “What must I do, indeed, what must we do to inherit eternal life?” “You know the answer,” said Jesus. “Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.

Not so easy, I say. It’s hard to love people when their behavior is unloveable, antagonistic, and destructive. When the late Fred Rogers walks into my room and asks, “Won’t you be my neighbor?” my response may be, “Well, that depends. You seem kind and gentle, but I’m not so sure about them.” Overwhelmed with the social injustices and systemic corruption of today, we may throw up our hands in despair and wonder, what on earth can I do, and what on earth can we do, when the problems seem so very big and we are so very small.

 Frederick Buechner once wrote, “If we are to love our neighbors, before doing anything else, we must see our neighbors. With our imagination, as well as our eyes, we must see not just their faces but the life behind and within their faces.” (Whistling in the Dark ,1988)  It’s hard to love people from a distance, when we don’t know their stories, their histories, their struggles, and their wounds.

 Like the priest and the Levite I have crossed the road many times to avoid someone that makes me uncomfortable. I have put up blinders so that I cannot see people who are standing, lying, or sitting right in front of me in distress. I have made false assumptions about people because I don’t know their story. Too often, I have chosen to hide in my room, in my office, or in my bed rather than face a difficult person, a challenging situation, or listen to someone’s painful story. I have erected barriers, big walls and little fences, so that they can’t get too close to me, because, for the life of me, I do not know what to do about them or me or it.

Amos said that it was never too late to change. We can avert the disasters that loom on our horizon, he said, if we repent and return to the Lord first, and then make God’s love a verb. We ask God to fill us with God’s love and show us how to serve. There are people lying in the proverbial roads all around us. These people, maybe they are even us, are people who have been wounded physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually by someone or a system that has robbed them of something. “Who is my neighbor?” the lawyer asked. And Jesus replied, the one that is right in front of you, the one who needs God’s mercy.

When Jesus redirects his gaze at me, I find myself squirming uncomfortably, trying to justify myself. I look at the sick man one block away, sleeping on the grass, with multiple layers of clothing in 90 degree heat, a shopping cart filled and overflowing with garbage bags of I’m not sure what, and I hear today’s gospel about the Good Samaritan and I cringe.

No, I will not go to him with oil and wine, place him in my car, and drive him to the local Marriott, where I will pay for his food and lodging. No, I will not even approach him and ask him about his life and his story, how he came to be on the grass on this side of the Charles River, rather than on the city streets of Boston. No, I will not cross the street to avoid him, or tell him that Jesus loves him, but rather I will look him in the eye to acknowledge his humanity, and see the goodness that lies underneath all those layers. Then I will think about what I actually can do.

The needs of this world are endless. While we cannot respond to everyone in our paths, we can take one small step closer to one person in need. If we’re willing to say “Yes” to the call of Jesus, to be a laborer in his harvest, we have multiple ways we can do that. “Keep it simple, silly,” I say to myself. KISS God, KISS yourself, and KISS your neighbor.

Offer a kind word,“I understand” or a simple apology, “I’m sorry.” Ask questions about a problem, show up for a vigil, walk for a cause, and listen to someone’s story. Give a little more of your time, talents, and treasure.

 Luke’s gospel is known for its focus on the forgiving and healing power of God as manifested in the person of Jesus. In the last chapter of Amos, the prophet assures his listeners that the day is coming when nature will be incredibly fruitful and those who experienced the judgment of God will see God acting to save them. Our Lord stands at the altar today, not with a message of impending disaster, but rather with God’s message of love and salvation.

We can see the judgment of God in the plumb line which we call the cross. Through Jesus, we have inherited eternal life, and have been justified and made righteous in the eyes of God. On the cross, we can see our Good Samaritan, the One who picks us up, heals our wounds, and tells the innkeeper to put the bill on His tab. Loving God for his gracious act of mercy for us, we can then love ourselves and our neighbors as God loves us. We can also make love a verb.

Amos 7:7-17

Psalm 82

Colossians 1:1-14

Luke 10:25-37

Our Common Humanity

             

Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

July 7, 2019: 4 Pentecost

             I’m delighted to be celebrating many things with you here today at Church of the Redeemer in Chestnut Hill. As a missionary and evangelist, and a self-described “free agent in Christ”, I find great joy in being part of different communities of faith throughout our diocese and beyond its borders. As St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Galatians, “For freedom Christ has set us free; and you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters, for love.”

            Speaking of love, my husband Paul and I celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary last weekend in London, where the Red Sox played the New York Yankees in that great American game of baseball. It was an historic event in three ways; it was the first time that American baseball teams played in London, 50 runs were scored in only two games, and one game was close to five hours long. That’s a lot of beer and hot dogs, a lot of peanuts and cracker jacks! The first ball was thrown out by Prince Harry and his wife Meghan, whose wedding was an historic event in its own right, not least being that our Presiding Bishop was the preacher.

 While we were in London, Paul and I heard a lot about the history of England - about all those battles that were waged over the centuries, “ both inside and outside the country. Evidence of World War 2 was pointed out to us in the stones of Westminster Abbey. In Parliament, we heard about their current political arguments. “Shall we shake the dust off our feet and move on?” Or do we remain in the European Union?

 There’s a lot of fighting going on these days, don’t you think? A lot of people are “picking quarrels” with one another for various reasons. In a recent Boston Globe article, Oliver Stone and Dan Kovalik wrote, “In two global polls, people ranked the United States as the greatest threat to world peace.” Indeed, the world continues to debate about which leader or what country is the greatest war-monger. No wonder there was such great controversy over the military displays of our power in Washington D.C. during our Independence Day celebrations on July 4th. (Oliver Stone and Dan Kovalik,July 1, 2019)

Not unlike today, the king of Israel thought that the king of Aram, that is current day Syria, was picking a fight with him. It didn’t matter that Naaman was bringing gifts of silver, gold, and garments from the Syrian king. Or that the king claimed that he sent Naaman in order to find a cure for his commander’s leprosy. No, the king of Israel was sure that he was being set up for failure, that the king of Aram was looking for an excuse to attack Israel. Tearing his clothes in fear and grief, the Israelite king assumed the worst. "Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me."   

Now Namaan was a powerful man in his own country. Like our own 4 star generals, he was well known as a mighty warrior, who had been victorious in many battles; and yet, he suffered from leprosy. When he heard that the prophet Elisha might heal him from his disease, Namaan asked his king if he might go to Israel, hoping for a cure.

            Like the prophet Elisha, Jesus was also known for his healing powers, and victorious in his battles over demons. Wanting to help as many people as possible, and not limiting himself to his own people or his own country, Jesus appointed 70 others to join him on his mission. He sent his troops out in pairs, giving them authority and power over the enemy. Offering no gold or silver, wearing no metal armor for the battlefield, these disciples had no purses, no bags, and no sandals while on their mission of healing.

“Yes, I know,” said Jesus. "I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. And yet, whatever house you enter, first say, `Peace.’ Cure the sick, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.'  The Rev. William Willimon reminds us “that absolutely nothing is said about the qualifications of the Seventy—their gifts and graces, prior experience, gender, sexual orientation, or grades in college. Apparently any qualification is beside the point, other than the call and commission of Jesus.” (Christian Century, July 2, 2007)

While we often think of this story as our call to be like them, my Harper Collins Study Bible invites me to widen my perspective. The number 70 may also refer to the 70 nations mentioned in the book of Genesis. How God created everyone and everything, including the heavens and the earth. How the waters in the garden of Eden were no better than those found in Syria or Israel. How Cain picked a fight with his brother and then murdered him. How wickedness grew so much that God regretted God’s own creation and sent a flood to destroy it.

 You know the story. Along with two animals of every kind, only Noah was saved. Guided by a dove who carried an olive branch in its beak, the ark finally arrived on dry land, and Noah built an altar to God in thanksgiving. Afterwards, Noah’s sons created many nations, indeed the 70 nations to which this gospel alludes. Initially, these “nations represented a temporal “tree of life” that included a magnificent geographical sweep, mingling cities, lands, and peoples as family members of one another.” (HCSB, p 16) And so it is today.

God knows that human beings are tempted by unruly passions and strong wills. That wars, hatred, and violence will continue to rage in our hearts, our homes, our countries, and throughout our world. Beginning with simple sleights to our pride like Naaman, or with fear like the king of Israel, we know that demons, death, and destructive forces are real, and that not all intentions are good.

Jesus knew that we live in a world where wolves are hungry for power and are looking for lambs to consume, that we are vulnerable to voices that will tempt us to fight, that people will reject us even when we bring them good news. “Go, anyway,” said Jesus, “and tell people that the kingdom of God has come near to you. I know that the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. So go, and speak words of peace in every house that you enter.”

I’m tired of the political battles in our country, and people picking fights with each other for personal gain. And so it was with similar interest that I read an article in this week’s Boston Globe. “Both billionaires, the leftist financier George Soros is an old-fashioned New Deal liberal and the Koch brothers are fire-breathing right-wingers who have found something to agree upon: the United States must end its “forever war.” In one of the most remarkable partnerships in modern American political history, Soros and Koch are uniting to revive the fading vision of a peaceable United States.” (By Stephen Kinzer, Boston Globe, June 30, 2019)

             For the love of God, what on earth will it take for us to find peace in our world? St. Paul’s letter to the Galatians was written during a similar time, when Christian Jews were arguing amongst themselves about certain religious laws. “His letter reflects a critical moment in early Christian (history), with St. Paul’s emphasis being on God’s initiative -  setting humans free from sin and the powers of the present age.” (HCSB, p2181, 2182) Stop fighting, St. Paul insisted. Do what is right. Work for the good of all. And, do not give up. Trust in God’s power to heal and save!

            On Sunday mornings in London, there is a Speaker’s Bureau in Hyde Park. Anyone can stand up on a soap box or a chair and offer their perspective on whatever they want, just like me today, as long as they don’t say anything bad about the Queen or use foul language. Last Sunday, we heard a Muslim man talking about the importance of respectful dialogue. “Whether we are a Muslim, Jew, Christian, or atheist,” he said, “we share a common humanity.”

Linday Hardin wrote, “Both the servant girl and Elisha helped Naaman to (heal) because of their common denominator: a simple and strong belief in a God who acts, and a God who heals. The unnamed servant girl had no worldly power—yet across the centuries, she has been a mighty evangelist, leading others, even her enemies, to God. Perhaps that is the real lesson today: that being healed may not be as complicated as we think.” And I would add that the power of God can work through any one of us. (Lindsay Hardin, Xian Century, June 28, 2016)

The life and death of Jesus was an historic event. After his resurrection, he became known not as a war monger nor the king of the Jews, but rather as the prince of peace. Eschewing hatred and violence, Jesus proclaimed God’s love for the world, and gave us the freedom to love in that same way. He calls and commissions every one of us to be freedom fighters, agents of peace, and servants of God’s healing power.

Your rector, in his sermon on June 16, called you “Holy Spirit people,” and St. Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, reminds us what the fruit of the Spirit is : love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. Today, be on God’s mission of love. In the name of Christ, be Holy Spirit people. Remember that we are all members of the same human family, and that we all bleed red! Go Red Sox, and God save the Queen!

2 Kings 5:1-14

Psalm 30

Galatians 6:(1-6)7-16

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20