Lectionary 9/2 Pentecost C June 2, 2013
Luther Memorial Church Seattle, WA
The Rev. Julie G. Hutson
1 Kings 8: 22-23, 41-43 Psalm 96: 1-9 Galatians 1: 1-12
Luke 7: 1-10
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Culture paints the role of a busy body throughout films and books and television shows. Remember Gladys Kravitz from the TV show Bewitched? So when we say that someone is sticking his or her nose in someone else’s business, it is generally not thought of as a positive thing. But in her essay “Sticking My Nose in the World’s Business”, Brigid Brockway thinks differently. This is what she writes:
I believe in sticking my nose into other people’s business. When I was a teenager, a man I knew killed his son and himself. On the TV news the neighbors were shocked that something like this would happen here, and they had not idea the family was in such trouble.
It was a lie. We all knew what the man did to his kids. We told ourselves it was none of our business, and now we were lying because we were complicit in a child’s death. We’d seen the way he talked to them and said nothing. And so when the TV cameras came along we told them we saw nothing.
I helped kill that kid, like everyone else, in the name of minding my own business.
Martin Luther King said in his “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” I’m no Martin Luther King but his call to action is as relevant now as it was then, and I know that the only way I can atone for that child’s death is to butt in, even when it’s unpopular, even when I’m not in the mood to fill out a police report or get screamed down by an abusive parent in the grocery store.
I’ve done those things, but I used to do them a lot more when I lived in the rough neighborhoods where I grew up, and when I worked at tough jobs. There was a wrong to be righted or a person to help around every corner. But then, I got a regular job. Now I live in the suburbs and work in a cubicle, and there are no great moral decisions under my nose.
The other day I finally go around to reading the stack of bulk mail from charities that has been piling up on the kitchen table. I was confronted with countless organizations wanting me to help children who are victims of war, neglect, and abuse around the world – all of it seemed so overwhelming. And it made me want to do nothing more than just sit on the couch and watch reality TV.
But Dr. King’s words keep ringing back to me. As much as I may dislike my role as busybody, I think I’m really not nosy enough. I’m worried about saving the kids up the block, but what about kids around the world whose lives are in danger because I’m not sticking my nose in their business?
I know it’s time to get off the couch and start butting in more. It begins with writing this essay, and with holding myself accountable to my ideals. I believe it’s time I started sticking my nose not just in the business of my neighbors but in the business of the world. I’m not eager to be chastised for my nosiness, but I know a little boy who died because no one likes a busybody. I believe I’ve got no right to make others suffer for my lack of conviction. [1]
Today’s Gospel is a story of a centurion, who was sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong. We just heard the story, but here are the Cliff Notes: Jesus goes to Capernaum and a Centurion, who would be a Roman soldier, has a slave who is very sick, as good as dead. And, curiously, after hearing about Jesus the centurion sends some Jewish elders to Jesus and asks that he heal the slave. And they plead the case of the centurion before Jesus. The centurion shows remarkable faith and Jesus is amazed at his faith, even to the point of saying that among Jesus’ own people he has not seen such faith. And the slave is healed.
It is tempting to see this as just another healing story. But we’d be missing the point of the story itself. You see, the centurion would have been a part of the Roman occupation force in Judea and Galilee in the first century. He is a Gentile and most likely was Roman, or at least a member of the Roman army. In other words, he is a person with power and an enemy of the followers of Jesus. And what we learn about him in the first verses of this story is that he had a slave whom the text said he highly valued and that he built a synagogue for the Jews he was charged with standing guard over.
Friends, this is a remarkable twist of events in this story. Simply by definition, we are not to like the centurion. He’s the bad guy, if you will. But he has a slave whom he loves. If this were simply a hard working slave he valued, he would not put himself in the position of sending elders to Jesus; he wouldn’t open himself up to such vulnerability. This is a slave for whom he is willing to risk much, even to the point of overcoming the power disparity built into their relationship. And even to the point of reaching out to one who purity laws forbade any contact.
And this centurion loves the very people his culture would teach him that he is not to love. He built a house of worship, a temple, for the Jews…and he was a Gentile! Can you imagine that? Would we be willing to build a mosque for our Muslim sisters and brothers or a synagogue for our Jewish friends?
Conversely in this story, Jesus is not the initiator of the action, he is the responder. Like the Jewish elders sent on behalf of the centurion and his slave, Jesus is amazed at what the faith of an outsider has taught him.
Too often, the Church, big C and small c, plays insiders and outsiders. We divide ourselves into those who belong and those who do not. Those who believe as we do and those who do not. Those who are like us and those who are not.
And this story is a surprising reminder in the middle of Luke’s Gospel that God can use the very people we call outsiders to teach us about the love of God.
Those of us who volunteer with Mary’s Place learn this each time we host these wonderful women and children in our building. They are not us, we think. But they are…they are mothers who love their children. They are women for whom life has been difficult and yet, they are doing all that they can to make it better – to lean into the challenges and walk through the trials. And what we are asked to do….it’s so small in comparison. To spend one night or make one meal or drive the van for one hour.
As a congregation, we have stated that our mission in this place and as this gathered community is one of Actively Sharing Christ’s Love in Community. I wonder how much of what we do really does come under that understanding of mission? Or, are we more concerned with what matters to us….the “insiders”. Is the bulk of what we do done in service to others or is it done so that we are more comfortable? I realize that these are hard questions…for far too long the church has been more like a club, with members and non members and less like the Body of Christ, reaching out into the world in service and being in relationship to all of God’s people. It is time that we understand that our response to God’s love for us in Jesus Christ is not one of standing idly by. It is one of holy busy-bodiness..of movement and action out into the world.
Sisters and brothers, it is a new song we are called to sing. It is a song that is beyond ourselves…it is a song for all people, all nations…for the Roman centurion, the Jewish community, the disciple of Christ. Let us sing it with the confidence of children of God and as those who follow a Savior who was reminded by an outsider of the wideness of God’s love and mercy. Thanks be to God. Amen
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