“Due to circumstances beyond our control it appears we won’t be live-streaming this morning.” was the message given today on Facebook.

1st Corinthians 13:1-13 & Luke 4:21-30
I believe I have told you this story before, but to serve as a reminder; several years ago, during the second Pride Day held here in Dunnville I found myself in, shall we say, a debate with a man from the United States who came here to loudly declare his opposition to that Pride event.
In the midst of our back and forth, he pronounced into his bullhorn that I was leading my flock straight into hell. Now, this is not the first time, and it certainly wasn’t the last that I have experienced Christians of, shall we say a more rigid demeanor, cast doubt on my standing as a Christian, or simply say I am not really a Christian. On a few occasions I have listened to some people condemn the entire United Church of Canada.
Now depending upon the mood I am in, this can sadden me, amuse me, or on occasion anger me. Sometimes, if given the opportunity, I will happily enter into conversation or debate. Other times I find it better to walk away. I am confident and secure in my faith and the work of our church. I don’t for a minute think we are getting everything perfect, but we are striving to be the best that we can.
But as I reflected on today’s scriptures, I found Jesus challenging me and others like me, to be careful we don’t fall into the same traps of condemnation that so many of us have experienced.
I need to be cautious in how I view those who stand in opposition to what I see as my call to be a follower of Jesus – to love and welcome our neighbour. It’s not my job to declare them false or use even stronger language. Because when I find myself turning to language of condemnation, Jesus has a remarkable way of sending me a new lesson. You see, I don’t get to choose who God invites in. I don’t get to say who Jesus visits, and I don’t have a say in who God elects to use.
I can still disagree with their stance. I can still resist their words and their actions when I believe they are harmful and destructive. But I cannot say they are beyond the reach of God.
Today’s reading from Luke carries on from what we heard last week. Jesus is preaching in Nazareth. He has impressed and excited the people in the synagogue with his words. As he speaks about bringing good news to the poor, sight to the blind, and release to the captive, they see themselves in those words. They recognize their suffering and find comfort in the promises offered.
But then Jesus says, ‘hold on’. He reminds them of stories from their bible about God healing the outsider; of visiting and feeding the foreigner while the people of Israel suffered. Their admiration quickly turns to anger and an attempt to kill their once favoured son.
“What do you mean God is not just for us?” What do you mean God sees and cares for those who are not just like us?”
The widow of Zarephath is a story of Elijah being sent to Sidon amid a famine that is devastating Israel. It is in fact a famine that Elijah called for, in his anger over the work of the King of Israel. God sends Elijah to Sidon where he encounters this widow and requests (demands?) bread and water. The widow explains she has just enough flour for bread for her and her son. When that is gone, she will die. Well, with Elijah’s presence, the flour in her jar never runs out until the famine comes to an end.
It is interesting to note that Rabbis over the centuries have seen one of the lessons of this story –
is that God sends Elijah to this widow to point out how his anger and his pronouncements have a significant impact on people the prophet gives no thought to.
Jesus points to this story to assert that God is at work in those we often ignore or see as holding less value or not being like us. It’s the same message in Naaman, the Syrian who is cured of his leprosy. Just because we see ourselves as being on the side of God; as being God’s chosen, doesn’t give us exclusive access to God’s favour.
Christianity has a way of hearing the message that God stands with the oppressed, the outsider, the enslaved; and then casts themselves as being the oppressed, the outsider, the enslaved. When in fact we are often the insider, the secure and protected, the privileged. All too often throughout history, we have lost sight of who we are and who God truly wants us to be. Not always, and not all of us. But we do need to be ready to truly reflect on who and where we may actually be in the stories we tell ourselves. To work with an ongoing image. When are we the sheep, and when are we the goats?
One of the images I find myself considering after reflecting on today’s readings, is that of Jesus always being on the move. He doesn’t stay in one place for very long. He is always traveling, blessing people and then moving on. Offering healing and teaching a lesson and inviting more people to be a part of God’s coming kingdom. And then he is back on the road, looking for more people to bless, to heal and to invite into this coming kingdom or feast.
So here we are, having received the invitation. Having experienced the blessing and the healing of Jesus somewhere along the way. We are part of the flock. So what are our jobs now?
Is it our job to start building fences and guarding the gate against new arrivals? To make sure they sound right or look appropriate or walk in the correct manner? Or is it our responsibility to make sure they are made to feel welcome and safe?
When I take time to sit with this analogy, I will confess that it is far from perfect. I realize that if I push this image, I recognize that there may be times when we need to be sure we guard against some members of the flock attacking and trying to evict other sheep. There are times when we need to have the strength to stand with those who are truly vulnerable.
God has not asked me to judge. God has not asked me to gatekeep. God has asked and expects me to love.
It is in this context that the words of Paul hit just a little bit differently this morning. This chapter of his letter to the church in Corinth is frequently read at weddings. It is often read through a romantic lens. I get it. But for Paul, love is about so much more than the relationship between individuals. It is about how we work in community.
Love does not insist on its own way. It is not resentful. It is not envious or boastful. Love is connected to faith and hope.
Faith and hope. Something we so desperately need at this particular time. But without love, faith and hope are so much more difficult to hold onto or to even find.
I wrote this sermon with some trepidation, and when I went home on Thursday, I still felt like I was missing something. With the growing turmoil in our society, it strikes me that we are increasingly pushed to pick sides and to label one of those sides as less than us. That is a dangerous road to consider.
People are experiencing fear, anger, anxiety and heartbreak right now. That’s natural and completely understandable. How we respond is critical. Where do we turn?
We need to be able to lean into a loving and reliable community that offers compassion, support and a hunger for justice. We are called as the church to be a welcoming and loving community that finds worth in all of God’s creation.
I sincerely don’t want people to think I am advocating for people to ignore the hateful and harmful rhetoric, decisions and actions of what seems a growing segment of our world. I don’t mean that we should make space or room for those who deny the humanity or existence of ourselves or those we know and love. Absolutely not. We do not compromise our values or our principles, but we cannot forget we are called to love. We also need to take care that we ourselves do not deny the humanity or the innate value of those we so forcefully disagree with, because God came as Jesus to save all of us.
We need to hold on to that vision.
Even when it makes us uncomfortable and even a bit angry. Thanks be to God.
Amen
Rev. Warner Bloomfield