July 15, 2001
Tara Barber
The Community Church of Sebastopol
Luke
10:25-37
What do we have
to do? What do I have to do? That’s a question I ask everyday and maybe you do
too. This question that the lawyer asks of Jesus, “What do I have to do to gain
eternal life?” is probably framed a bit differently than the questions I ask and
the questions you ask everyday. But I really think that underneath it all, we
too are asking, what do I have to do to live? But most days the questions sound
more like, “What do I have to do to lead a good life? What do I have to do to be
happy? What do I have to do to get good grades, to be successful, to feel
good? What do I have to do to make sure that my kids are going to turn out
alright? What do I have to do to be liked or to be loved? What do I have to do
to become your associate minister? What do we have to do to be in relationship
with God?” This is how I frame the lawyer’s question. “What do I have to do to
be in God’s love now and forever?”
And Jesus’
response is quite clear. You have to love. You have to love God with
everything, love yourself and love those you meet. I don’t know about you, but
I’ve never made a to do list that starts like that. It’s much easier to
worry about the laundry or the bills than to figure out how I’m going to love
this day. My lists are important, they keep me focused and they keep me from
what’s really important. So what do I have to do? Well, this is what I did.
I raced to the
airport in rush hour traffic going nowhere and arriving two minutes ahead of my
family’s scheduled time to get there. The screen showed that the flight was
delayed, but it didn’t say what time they would be arriving. I went to the gate
hopeful that there had been some mistake - they would be there - their plane
would be there and I would be able to pick them up, joyful to see them after a
long week here. But no.
I got to the
gate and there was no airplane. I waited in line to get up to the counter to
find out what the delay was and what time I could expect them and I was told
they were coming in at ten o’clock. Three hours later. Three hours with
nothing for me to do but wait and I am not a good waiter.
So I sat down
near the gate and attempted to get a grip and try to figure out what to do.
What do I have to do? I heard a man ask the airline assistant at the gate if
his family was indeed on the flight and I thought, there’s an idea. Maybe they
took an earlier flight and they will be here soon. So I approached and asked
and they said, no your family hasn’t checked in yet for the flight from
Seattle. I thought that was good, at least they weren’t waiting.
So I breathed a
sigh of relief and sat down to wait. After about 30 minutes I decided to check
back with the gate attendant and see if maybe they could say now they had
boarded the plane and I could just relax and wait the other 2 ½ hours. But when
I went up to the gate attendant and asked if they were indeed on that flight,
he pushed around on his buttons, looked at the computer screen, looked back at
me, looked at the computer screen and said, “I’m sorry. I cannot give you that
information. They had a reservation. I can tell you that, but that’s all I can
say.”
All you can
say? This is my family who may be on a flight from Seattle, I don’t have a cell
phone, we don’t do cell phones and all you can say is they had a reservation.
That’s my son on that flight. I’m a parent and that’s my son, doesn’t that
count for something? “No, I’m sorry, we cannot, for security reasons, tell you
anything more.”
Well, my heart
was pounding like it is now. I tried to use all my good intuition to figure out
why he wasn’t telling me anything more. Believe it or not, there are a few
things I haven’t told you about myself this week. One of those things is that I
am really good at worrying. Now, this may come as a shock to you that there are
others in the ministry that worry as well. So, in the midst of this worry and
panic I decided to look at my sermon again and re-read the scripture text hoping
to find something that addressed my worry. But you know, the Good Samaritan
story doesn’t say one thing about worrying. In fact, I don’t think in the whole
New Testament, Jesus says once, “Go out and worry.” And try as I may, changing
the Good Samaritan story around to say that message would not serve the text
very well. And believe me I tried. I figured that the injured man probably
waited and worried. That’s as close as I could come. And it probably wouldn’t
have made for a very good sermon.
So, I believe
that the scripture has something to tell us. I believe that there is a
redeeming word found in scripture so I looked back again. “Do this and you will
live.” Jesus said. Not “this” meaning worry, but “this” meaning love. As much
as my worrying was rooted in my love for my family, worrying is not a very
good expression of love and I still don’t think Jesus said anything about
showing your love by worrying about your family.
Now what to do?
Now, what do we have to do? My first response to that question, sitting on the
floor in the airport, is that we have to let go of those things that get in the
way of loving. Now in three hours (you know I was trying to let go of worrying
for a whole of three hours) maybe five minutes I did a good job of this. I
realized there in the Oakland airport that what really matters is my family and
not saying the right thing so that you will vote for me. And not worrying about
what’s going to happen today. And not even worrying about their delayed
flight.
I also realized
something else that’s really important. I realized that in all of our
conversations about what I was going to do with the youth if I am called to be
the associate minister, I probably didn’t tell you what I think is most
important. And the most important thing that I can do with you while I am here
is to love you. One of the high school students at Senior PF last week said
that what is most important to her about being in the youth group is that she is
known. And when she’s missed a few weeks and she comes back, she is
celebrated. People are glad to see her. In short, she matters and she is loved
in this place. And what I’m going to do with the programs is to love the youth
- to continue to love the youth, so that this place is a place where they matter
- where when they leave and come back, they are welcomed home.
At Junior PF
last week, I was put to the test. Literally. One youth told me that he wanted
to see where my limits are and was going to find out in the next hour and a
half. Now in junior high translation this means, “Are you really gonna like me
no matter what?” And I tell you, I was up for the test. That was the beginning
of the week. Good thing! I tell you, I was up for the test. So he tested and
I loved him and he tested and I loved him and in the end, he can be liked and
loved, no matter what. I do have limits, but he wasn’t going to push them just
by being his best junior high boy self.
So Jesus says
love God, love one another and love yourself. In the story of the Good
Samaritan, loving is defined as seeing the needs of another and risking getting
involved. So how might we risk loving? What do we have to do?
Leanne Womack
who I discovered this week is really a country singer, and the grammy winner
this spring, has helped me understand what it means to risk. The song she wrote
for her daughter entitled “I Hope You Dance” tells me what it means to risk
loving. She sings, but I won’t, for your benefit. She sings:
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
I hope you get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
And God forbid that love ever leave you empty handed
(I
should have known that she was country by the way it rhymes.)
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope that one more opens
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance!
I hope you dance. I hope we dance. I hope we can dance together. Really, I hope that you risk engaging with one another and with the world. That Good Samaritan took a risk. After seeing what was really important, he crossed the road to help someone in distress and I believe he danced.
Now there’s a
risk in dancing. If you want to dance with someone else you have to risk
rejection. If you want to dance in front of others, you have to risk exposing
yourself and if you want to dance with those on the margins, you risk a lot.
For some, deciding to dance with me in ministry is a risk. And for me, coming
to dance with you will be a risk. But I hope you dance and I hope that we
dance.
The story of the
Good Samaritan didn’t end with seeing and risking. The Samaritan took action.
He tended the man’s wounds. He took him to a safe place to heal. He gave money
so that the man could continue to be cared for. The Samaritan did something
that mattered. So what do we have to do? Well, I’d say we have to love. We
need to live in that place where being and doing meet. We have to love. We
need to see what’s important. We need to risk dancing with one another and with
the world. We need to love. For we are first loved and called by a God who
shaped creation and who has given us life, and love is our only response.
In the words of
my favorite poet, Mary Oliver, I ask you: “What are you going to do with your
one wild and precious life? How are you going to love?” Please be with me in a
moment of prayer:
Ever present God, help us to remember what is really important. Free us from our To Do lists and worries that we may really see one another and risk loving each other. Help us love one another into healing and wholeness and risk giving ourselves so that another may be made whole. Invite us again and again to dance with you that we may dance with your world. Amen.
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