Acts 1: 15-17, 21-26 Psalm 1
1 John 5: 9-13 John 17: 6-19
Alleluia! Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed! Alleluia!
In the church year this is the seventh Sunday of Easter and it still sounds wonderful to hear this acclamation that Christ is risen! Thank you for affirming it so joyfully throughout these great 50 days of Easter.
For the past two days Luther Memorial has been well represented as the congregations and ministries of the NW Washington synod have gathered in Assembly. Jean Rizer was our lay female delegate and Gordon Trombley was our lay male delegate. I was privileged to represent Luther Memorial as your clergy delegate. It is important work that is done at these events, as well as time for worship, study, singing, and hearing reports. And it is a time to know more about the ministries of the wider church, the ELCA. We heard the stories of congregations and ministries that have found new ways to be the hands of God in the world, doing God’s work. I was struck, each time I saw a video about one of those places or talked to someone at one of the displays at synod assembly about the rich variety of ministries that we are involved in as the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. And we, at Luther Memorial, are involved in them by virtue of our support in dollars, in prayers, and as partners in mission. I am grateful.
The Psalmist wrote this in the first Psalm this morning: They are like trees planted by streams of water which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither.
All of these faithful ministries, ministries that offer shelter, ministries that offer opportunities for growth, ministries that, just like the tree that Zaccheus climbed, offer us a better way of seeing Jesus.
It’s a wonderful, fitting metaphor, this image of the tree, for faithful, courageous ministries.
Last week, as a few of you know, I was invited to come and preach in a chapel service at a private Christian school. More specifically it was at a private Lutheran school….and even more specifically, it was at a school run by the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod.
For those of you who don’t know, the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod is a more conservative body of Lutherans. They are faithful in many things, including in their strong support of their many schools. However, they differ with the ELCA in some primary ways that account for our separation as church bodies. One significant difference is that they do not believe that women are equal to men, thus they do not allow them, officially, to serve in ways that place them, hierarchically, over men. So they do not serve in leadership roles within the church and they, of course, are not ordained.
I was invited to preach at their weekly Chapel service by a courageous young teacher. I did not know her before last Wednesday, but I know her husband, who works in an ELCA congregation, and she has followed Luther Memorial’s online presence. In her invitation to me, she said “I just need the children in my classroom and in our school to see that God does value and call women to ministry. I need them to know that the little girls are equal.”
When I went to the school, I did not know whether this teacher had cleared my presence in chapel with any of the administrators or whether I was to be one great big surprise. Walking down the steps toward the school I prayed “God, this is in your hands, this is in your hands, this is in your hands…”
Signing in as a visitor in the office, the principal greeted me warmly. He walked me down to the teacher’s classroom who had issued the invitation. Along the way he told me the history of the school, which is long and rich. He shared their philosophy of education and told me something of the direction they are taking now.
In the classroom, I met the teacher for the first time. She was one of those people whose boldness in her faith had prompted her to reach beyond the boundaries of what her employer deemed appropriate. All in the name of Jesus, who could often be found hanging out with those outcast women. And as she introduced me, one by one to the children in her class, their eyes widened a bit at the site of a woman in a clergy collar.
Off we marched to the gymnasium, where chapel is held. Two more school staff, the gym teacher and the worship helper greeted me. The worship helper, a young woman, said “I’m glad to meet a female pastor. I think I’d be a good pastor, except I’m Missouri Synod and I don’t want to leave.” I could only nod in understanding.
The rest of the students in the school and their teachers came filing into our assembly area, filling the bleachers with their youthful exuberance and curiosity. When I was introduced, by the principal, they too offered a warm welcome.
And then we all sang. We sang This Is The Day, and Jesus Loves Me and I Am A C-H-R-I-S-T-I-A-N. We all did the hand motions. And before I knew it, it was my turn to preach and I was so nervous! And the average age of the worshiper was, what, eight? But they had been taught something that was categorically different than what I believed or what I embodied!
The text was our Gospel reading from last week’s Gospel from John, about loving one’s friends enough to lay down, or set aside, one’s life for them.
And then it hit me…two things, actually. One, was that in spite of our very real differences, these sisters and brothers in Christ had laid aside their lives enough to allow me to be there in an official capacity, one they neither recognize or condone.
And the second was that the trees that are planted by streams of water do not look the same, they are not of the same variety. There are mighty oak trees, strong and sturdy, old and sure. There are tall redwoods, that tower above the other in their outlandishness. There are dogwood trees with delicate flowers in the shape of a cross. There are willows that bend and blow. I know it’s a bit of a flawed analogy, but can you see where this takes us? We tend to think that we are the only tree on the riverbank. But imagine how boring the world would be if there were only pine trees.
The grace and love of God is wide and broad enough for many different varieties of trees and many different varieties of beliefs. There will be matters upon which we strongly disagree, and we should. We should speak our understanding of the Gospel with conviction. But then, we should listen. And then, we should search for some common ground. And then, maybe we should sing a song together. Maybe Jesus Loves Me.
Synod assemblies are more pleasant when there are not contentious issues over which to argue. It is a gift to receive reports of ministries that are making a difference. It is hopeful and hope filled.
But in those days when it is not easy, when we seem divided, let’s take a page from the lesson plan of a young teacher bold enough to invite the “other” to come and share a word about Jesus’ love. And let’s reach out with the handshake of the administrator who welcomed this stranger. And then like trees planted by streams of water, let us return to the waters of baptism for refreshment, for sanctification, for grace, and for love that is overflowing.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
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