Knock,
Knock. (Who’s there?) Interrupting Cow. (Interrupting Cow…) Moo!
Ok,
I’ve got another one. Knock, knock. (Who’s there?) Interrupting Holy Spirit.
(Interrupting Holy Sp…) I love you, but guess what? I love them, too!
I
know that sounds weird, but that’s what’s going on in our reading from Acts.
Peter has traveled North of Jerusalem. He’s seen what the Holy Spirit can do in
Samaria. He’s even called a woman back from death’s door by the power of faith
in Jesus, and he’s had this vision while praying on a roof.
Praying
on a roof is almost as weird to you and me as receiving visions, but the roof
was actually designed to be a part of the house that you might go to for
solitude. Anyway, he had this vision of a sheet being lowered with all kinds of
animals, and he heard God tell him to “kill and eat” for what God “has made
clean, no one is to say it is unclean.”
That
happened three times. Three is an important number. It demonstrates
completeness and certainty. Once may have been chance. Twice may be have been
just plain lucky, but three times? Such a thing is ordained by God.
Just
like the three days of Jesus’ death – and Peter’s three denials of Christ in
one night – this is our third encounter with the Holy Spirit “falling upon” or
conspiring to include those outside the covenant of God’s chosen people. First
were the Samaritans. Next was the Eunuch, and now Peter is giving an
explanation of Jesus as the Jewish messiah to a nice booster club of God
Fearers.
At
least, I imagine that’s what it felt like to him. Here he was in the home of a
wealthy Centurion who had a good reputation of being nice to the Jews in his
community. While Peter certainly would have wanted to set him straight in his
understanding of Jesus, I imagine he felt a bit like I do when I’m called to
pray, pro forma, for a graduation or other secular event. I am certainly thankful for the chance to
reach out to new groups of people, but there are times when I feel a bit like
the garnish on the plate.
Anyway,
Peter made sure to proclaim Jesus as the one that God had worked through, and
the one through whom God would judge the living and the dead. He didn’t get
into substitutionary atonement. He simply honored Jesus as the revelation of
God. And when the Holy Spirit came upon them as proof that they believed, he
said, “Who can deny them to be baptized?”
It
must have been terrifying for him. Including outsiders was not only risky for
the community of faith, it was risky for him. Yet, his whole speech began with,
“I can see that God shows no partiality.” How can you look at someone and say
that you know God loves them and then turn around and say that they are
excluded from the community of people that God loves?
Of
course, the funny thing about that is that the church has been doing that
almost as long as there has been a church. Whether it was slave galleys in the
southern church, or paid family pew boxes in the colonial church, or the
current struggle over when and how to acknowledge God’s love of those in the
LGBTQ+ community, we just can’t help but circle our wagons when it comes to our
communities of faith.
Yet
for those that do not close themselves off, there is a certain attractiveness
that invites the question of how deep and how wide the love of Jesus might
abide. While this congregation has not made official statements of inclusion in
the way of a “More Light” congregation – those are a certain affiliation of
PC(USA) churches that are open and affirming of LGBTQ+ – we have had the active
participation of members and staff and their partners who are gay for decades.
I
don’t want to call names or make anyone a poster child, but there are ministry
opportunities in almost every facet of this congregation that have been
impacted by members of the LGBTQ+ community. In fact, one of my first pastoral
interactions in this church was from a closeted individual – who later came out
to some in his life but not to all – who met with me and said, “I’m gay. No one
knows, and I don’t want them to know. What I want to know from you is if you
will love me or condemn me. Because if you will not love me, then I won’t
bother coming.” I told him that of course I would love him, and he remained
faithful until he moved away.
I
tell you this because I know that even in this beloved community there are a
variety of views on the subject. I tell you this because even as we speak there
are other congregations and denominations tearing themselves apart over the
issue of inclusion, acceptance, and love, and I do not want that to be us.
For
we are called to something greater. Truly, all who follow Christ are called to
something greater. We are called to abide in God’s love. We are called to be
the church of Jesus Christ. That’s even more than what Ella Fitzgerald called a
Sunday kinda’ love. Abiding in God’s love is more than coming to church like it’s
a spa day for your soul.
Abiding
in God’s love is nothing short of recognizing that God’s active presence is the
air we breathe. It is the blood coursing through our veins! It is the very
electrical impulse that fires from synapse to synapse in these beautiful,
organic expressions of the Creator that look like you and me and act like Jesus
every now and again.
You
see, Jesus told his disciples that the love of God for him was the same as
Jesus’ love for them, and that it would be the same from them if they were his
friends. It wasn’t a condition or a transaction. Jesus wasn’t a child telling
them to play with the blocks the way he wanted to play with them or else he
would take his blocks and they would not have any.
No,
my friends. Jesus was describing what they (and we) will put into action when
we follow the commands of Jesus. Just what are these commands? Was Jesus
prescribing a doctrine? No. He was telling them that there are certain things
they will do, if they truly live in the love of God that he has revealed.
Essentially
he wanted them to know that they could believe that he had revealed God’s love
to them. He wanted them to know that they could trust him and his authority
over sin and death, and because of that they could expect a new quality of life
in this life and in the one to come. Not only that, but they were chosen by him
to bear fruit in works of love and service to others.
Now,
here’s the real kicker. These claims about love are sandwiched right between
Jesus telling them of his betrayal (and telling Judas to get on with it), and
his prediction of Peter’s denial. His love includes the one who leaves and the
one who denies. His love opens us to a new understanding of God’s willingness
to suffer with us and for us, so that we will know of God’s presence that has
always been with us.
His
love draws us to this table, where we taste and see the bread of heaven come
down and the fruit of the vine in mercy given. This is the place that our eyes
become open to the depth of love we have received, so that we can understand
what we have withheld and we can recognize the opportunity to love as we have
been loved.
That’s
much easier to say than to do, but thanks be to God that we’ve been given each
other to work it out and make it real before attempting to love those that
might hurt us. That is always the risk of loving. Some will betray. Some will
deny. Even worse, some will accept, and then we have to go through the hard
work of being transformed.
That’s
the beautiful and terrible thing about loving. It changes you, over and over
and over, until as the old song says, “To turn, turn will be our delight; Till
by turning, turning we come 'round right.”
In
the end the Spirit of God will testify in and through you and me to what is
true. In the meantime, let us continue to open ourselves to the active presence
of God both here and now and there and then. Let us bear fruit in acts of love
and kindness, because God loves us, and God loves them, too. Amen.
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