Sermon for Sabbath, January 12, 2013, at
Green Lake Church of Seventh-day
Adventists
Texts: Matthew 5:40-48; 20:25-28.
The setting of one of my favorite Max
Lucado stories is Cinderella's castle at Disneyland. The place is
jammed with noisy, excited, rambunctious kids. Cinderella comes in
one of the doors. Like a flood, the kids rush her direction,
clustering around her to get their pictures taken, to admire her, to
bask in the excitement and glamor of her presence.
She is beautiful, of course. Her
natural grace enhanced with exquisite costuming and made up. She
poses for photos with kids and grand kids. She smiles endlessly. Then
you notice her begin to move purposefully through the crowd toward
the opposite side of the room. You turn and see the great empty space
across from the princess and her crowd, a couple of guys. One an
ordinary teenager, sixteen, maybe seventeen years old. The other—it
must be his brother—a grotesquely deformed youngster about four
feet tall. When he moves, his actions are so awkward they look
painful. When he doesn't move, his misshapen form is painful to look
at. You are ashamed for thinking it, but the thought goes through
your mind that you've never seen anyone so ugly.
You back at Cinderella, this fairy
princess, this gorgeous young woman whose life at every step will be
eased by the grace of her beauty, then back at the ugly kid. Your
heart breaks because you know that this boy will spend his entire
life trying crawl up the down escalator.
Cinderella is still working her way
through the crowd. Escaping another photo session she moves quickly
enough to make to the edge of the crowd. Then she is walking across
the empty space toward the brothers. The crowd trails after her, like
the tail of a comet, like an entourage.
Then she's standing in front of the
boys. The crowd behind her pauses. Repulsed, perhaps even made afraid
by the broken kid, they hide behind their princess. In a single
camera frame, you could capture on one side perfect ugliness, on the
other fearful loathing, and dead center perfect beauty.
Then what? What does she do, this
golden girl, this incarnation of beauty and privilege? This leader of
an entire entourage of healthy, active, beautiful children? She
stoops and plants a kiss on the little boy's cheek. The loathing
vanishes. For at least an instant, the entire crowd is transformed.
The guys dream of trading places with the ugly boy, for the privilege
of her kiss. The girls wish they had her courage.
Beauty is one of the most universally
revered forms of status. In this story, Cinderella attracts swarms of
little kids. But if she walked into a crowded coffee shop, if you
watched closely, you'd see the face of every guy in the place light
up, young men, men old enough to be her great grandfather, they'd all
look and if she dropped her napkin, every guy in the place would
consider it an honor to pick it up. If she applied for a job, the
males in the process would have a hard time paying adequate attention
to the deficits in her resume. In school, male teachers will struggle
to be objective in their grading of her essays. Beauty confers status
quite apart from intellect, character, money, education.
Another story about status. This time
an incomplete story.
Ethan Durden.
In his late teens Ethan Durden got into
drugs and crime. He was arrested, convicted and sentenced to prison.
20 years! His mother did not object to prison time. She did object to
20 years for crimes in which no one was hurt. In prison, Ethan came
to himself. He availed himself of every educational opportunity. It
was universally recognized that he was a changed person. There was no
point in keeping him in jail, except for the “little detail” that
it was the law.
In our system, there is one last resort
people can appeal to when the law itself turns out to be unjust: the
governor can pardon people or commute their sentences. We have given
the governor extraordinary status, the power to overrule the verdict
of courts and the process of law.
Society would fall apart if we allowed
everybody to challenge the rule of law and the verdict of the courts.
On the other hand, there is a deep understanding that the human
condition is so complex that sometimes, true justice requires a
personal touch outside the machinery of the courts. That personal
touch is part of the exalted status of the governor.
Last year Ethan appeared before the
clemency board. They voted unanimously to recommend that Ethan be
released from prison. Now it's up to the governor. She can use her
status to restore this young man to life and freedom.
You and I can only attempt to help
Ethan by writing letters. The governor alone has the status to make a
decisive difference.
The question is: what will she do with
her status?
When it comes to status, this is the
most important question for all of us. You may not be a gorgeous
woman or a governor with the power to grant or deny clemency. Still
you have some measure of status. What are you doing with it? This
perspective is highlighted in the words of Jesus recorded in Matthew
20:25-28.
Jesus called his
disciples together and said to them, "You know that the rulers
in this world lord it over their people, and officials flaunt their
authority over those under them. But among you it will be different.
Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be your servant, and
whoever wants to be first among you must become your slave. For even
the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve others and to give
his life as a ransom for many." Matthew 20:25-28.
When we think about status, we can
imagine it as a place of privilege or as a platform for service.
Cinderella made her status a platform from which to serve. She could
have merely basked in the adulation of her admirers. Instead she used
the status of her beauty as a tool to elevate a boy with no status of
his own.
This is what Jesus calls us to do. In
fact, using our status to serve others is the essential definition of
godliness, the essential definition of what it means to be a devotee
of Jesus.
Consider these words from our scripture
reading:
Jesus said, love
your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you
will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. For he
gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain
on the just and the unjust alike. Matthew 5:44-45.
The salient trait of the heavenly
family is indiscriminate generosity, giving not because others
deserve it, but because we have it to give. We are to give as
recklessly as God who sends sunlight and rain without asking who is
receiving it. Whatever gifts are included in our status are intended
as resources for blessing others.
Late this week I received an email from
a doctor I have not yet met. She is a dramatic model of godliness—at
least the kind of godliness Jesus describes here in Matthew 5.
Dear Pastor,
I am a retired family doctor from
Seattle currently serving as a Peace Corps volunteer at the Maluti
Adventist Hospital in Lesotho. My service will be completed in August
and I will be returning to my home on Phinney Ridge in Seattle. While
I myself am a Quaker, I have developed a strong attachment to the
hospital here and the wonderful people who put their hearts and souls
into service to some of the world's poorest and sickest people. I am
hoping to create some links between Lesotho and Seattle when I
return.
The Green Lake Adventist Church is the
nearest to my home, so I have decided to start with you. I am writing
to you now to learn if there are some particular elements of the work
here that might be of interest to your church members. I would be
happy to collect specific information to address such an interest.
Lesotho is in the bottom 10% of
countries on the United Nations Development (UNDP) list, with an
unemployment rate approaching 50% and an HIV rate of 23% among adults
and around 40% for pregnant women.
There is only one doctor for every
15,000 people (compared with one per 500 in the US). . . . The
postpartum ward in our hospital has 21 beds and only one toilet and
shower. . . .
In a country of 2 million people, about
160,000 children have been orphaned by HIV. In every community, one
finds child-headed households, sometimes with the oldest child only
12 years old. . . .
I recognize that your church is already
very generous in its outreach and I am not expecting it to tackle a
large project. There are needs as small as the purchase of a blood
pressure cuff or providing a food package for orphans that would make
an immediate difference here.
The hospital is located on a campus
where many of the staff reside, with the Maluti Adventist Church
located immediately adjacent as well as a preschool, primary school
and School of Nursing. Would your Sabbath School be interested in a
pen pal exchange? I can talk with people here about anything that
would interest you during my remaining few months here.
Thank you so much for taking time to
read this. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.
May you have a blessed Sabbath,
Barbara Meyer MD, Mapoteng, Lesotho
Barbara, like Cinderella at Disneyland
has status. Barbara's service in Lesotho will not cure the 40% of
women with HIV. Her service will not replace the missing parents for
the 160,000 children orphaned by HIV. But she has planted a kiss on
the ugliness. She has touched the pain.
Then she has used her status as an
American from a neighborhood just blocks from this church to recruit
us to share in her ministry. She has stretched her status to the very
limits of its capability to serve. She is a beautiful illustration of
Jesus definition of what it means to be a daughter of God.
Most of us are not doctors. Most of us
can go to a remote, impoverished place like Lesotho. But all of us
have status. Will we use our status to serve?
Does math come easily to you in school?
That confers a certain status. How are you using that status to bless
other students?
Have you been granted tenure at the
university? How much richer has that made your service to your
students and your colleagues in the department?
Are you popular? Do people like you?
What are the ways you can use that popularity to decrease the
loneliness at your school or office?
Have you mastered habits that enhance
health or family life? What about inviting others to experience those
habits with you?
Can you make music?
Are you healthy?
God has granted all of us some measure
of status, some gift that is uniquely operative in us, something that
makes us beautiful. When we walk across the room and kiss someone who
is entirely bereft of our gift, we are acting as the true children of
God. We are making the ultimate statement about the goodness and
reality of God.
1 comment:
It is easy to forget how blessed we are; ...and how great the need is on this world for ministry, prayers and Jesus. Thanks, Pastor John
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