Christ Episcopal Church
April 28, 2013
5 Easter C
Last spring, in preparation for Reading Camp, a number of us read the book "Understanding Poverty" by Ruby Payne. I read the first edition of the book a number of years ago and found the book incredibly helpful, transforming my understanding of poverty. The book is full of valuable information-things that I, as a middle class individual from a middle class family, living in a middle class neighborhood, had never thought about. The most important thing I learned, however, is that the most valuable asset of people living in poverty is their story. And I thought of all the times the doorbell in Hollenbeck House had rung, and someone was there with a long story, so complicated that I could not imagine the story to be true, sometimes about distant relatives in far away places that could not possibly have anything to do with what the person standing before me needed. The book, by the way, gave example after example of true stories that sounded a lot like the stories that seemed to me to be pretty good fiction. And I thought about all the times I asked, long before the person had finished telling the story "But what do you need? What can I do for you?" I did not need to hear the whole long story in order to give the person a gas card. What I failed to realize is that a) the person in front of me needed to share the story and was offering me something of her most valuable asset, and b) I really did need to hear the story, both to receive that gift, and to get over my impatience.
So, now I try harder to listen to the story. And what I have found is that those stories bind us together as humans. We all are concerned about our kids, need to overcome obstacles that are placed in our way, want to know that someone cares enough to lend a hand, and that our life stories are worthy of honor. Some of the stories I hear make me grateful for the life I have, the security I know, and the systems of support I have in my life. Other stories I hear cause me to marvel at the amazing depths of people’s faith in the midst of adversity and show me the strength of human spirit. By hearing the stories of strangers, my own life and faith have been enriched.
Our reading from Acts this morning also points to the transformative power of a person’s story. We hear in the reading from Acts that the apostles and believers in Judea were having a bit of a problem with Peter’s choice of dinner companions. I find this a little odd, since Jesus spent so much time eating with questionable dinner companions, but I believe the apostles’ criticism comes from knowing the power of a shared meal. Not only does a shared story bind us togther, a shared meal does much the same. So, to be bound together through a shared meal with someone considered unclean would spread the uncleanliness. Or so the apostles thought, despite their time with Jesus.
Peter could have pointed to the example of Jesus, or Peter could have laid out a beautifully articulated theological argument to convince the apostles and other believers of the error of their ways. But instead, he shares the story of how he, Peter, came to believe that God intends no distinction between those who keep the Jewish dietary laws and those who do not. Peter told the apostles how he witnessed the Holy Spirit falling upon a Gentile just the way the Holy Spirit had come upon them. Then Peter asks "If God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I to hinder God?" At that, the apostles were silenced, then began to praise God saying "Then God has given even the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life."
Scripture is full of stories-stories about people encountering God, or having their hearts and minds changed through divine or human encounters, stories about people who are concerned about their children, or their health, or what to eat or how to survive. Jesus told stories, some of which have obvious meanings and some of which we have to work at to understand. Through those stories, we can make connections between our lives and our faith, and the faith of Moses, or Ruth, or Abraham, or Esther. This morning, we hear a piece of the story of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, and we hear Jesus command the disciples, and us, to love one another. Jesus could have just commanded the disciples to love one another as he loves him, and be done. But the way the story is told, Judas has just left the dinner table to betray Jesus. Jesus knows exactly where Judas is going and what he is up to. So, when Jesus tells the disciples to love one another, and he does not say "except for the rat who just left to betray me," we understand from the story that Jesus is talking about sacrificial love. The kind of love Jesus is talking about involves some work, and includes not only people we disagree with, or have nothing in common with, but goes so far to include those who betray us. Through the story, we understand more fully the depth of the love Jesus is talking about.
Stories are the way our faith is conveyed. Whether the story of Scripture or the stories of the great heros and heroines of the faith, or our own stories, that is the way our faith is shared. For stories to work, however, we have to live with the love Jesus commands us to live-love that allows us to be vulnerable enough to share our own story and to be willing to listen deeply and to the stories of others. When we are willing to love in such a way that we are willing to be transformed by the stories of other people, our relationships with God and each other are transformed and the world will know that we are Jesus’ disciples.
Amen.
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