Sixteenth Pentecost
Matthew 18:15-20; Romans 13:8-14; Ezekiel 33:7-11
The stories are amazing--terrible--at times desperate--hopeless--and then remarkable for their hopefulness. So many stories it is hard to know where to begin.
She had lived in Louisiana all her life--born--grew up--married--birthed her own children and also cared for a number of her grandbabies as she called them. Her husband had aged along with her. They never had much but they always worked hard, educated their children, went to church faithfully. There had been storms before. There had been damage before and high water but the levee always held and the clean up brought new days of sunshine and music. But this time was different. The evacuation order was something new. She was among the more than 100,000 reported in the last census of New Orleans as living with no car or means to travel other than public transportation. And there were no evacuation buses, no evacuation housing that she could afford. So she stayed. Stayed with her husband and the neighbor across the way, the three of them on the second floor of the old brick building. Hurricane Katrina came calling with category 4 plus ferocity. The storm was terrible. The power failed almost immediately. They expected that and had their oil lamps ready. The glow reminded her of studying by lamp light in her school girl days. She preferred the lamps. They cost less than the electricity. They had turned off the gas to her stove, to the whole building to guard against leaks and fires, but she had prepared food supplies for a couple days and they had stored up water. But this storm was bigger and badder than any storm she had ever seen. The air was filled with flying destruction. The third story roof opened in places. They tried to stay on the second floor but the waters kept rising. They had to climb higher. Eventually it became clear that they would have to find a way to the roof, into the wind and swirling storm. As she told it later, there they huddled. The three of them praying for the storm to pass and rescue to come.
There was a lot of religion found this past week. I suspect a lot of folks remembered scripture learned in their younger days. There were deals made with God and those around. You know the words, "If you let me survive this Lord I promise..." There were many who no doubt remembered the final verse of our Gospel lesson for today. "Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them." This has been a week when many went looking for God, especially when all else failed.
For those of us who watched the whole hurricane disaster unfold on our television and computer screens there have also been moments of prayer and expressions of grave concern. There was also a feeling of frustration as we watched with growing horror the collapse of an entire city into lawless desperation. It seemed that almost everyone I talked to had their solution to the growing problem. Again and again the phrase I heard repeated was, "Why doesn't somebody..." and then came the obvious suggestions. We kept waiting for the familiar images of the U.S. military stepping in, the rescue invasion of troops and supplies. But days passed and the media was filled with more and more images of people in need. We watched as an American disaster turned into third world scenes of desperation.
We are a people who believe that with enough resources, be they military or technological, we can fix most any problem--even a hurricanes flood. Certainly we will begin to see improvements in many lives in the coming weeks as we bring the many resources of our nation to bear. There will be lessons learned from this disaster--too late for some. Hopefully among the lessons learned will be new heightened sensitivities to the needs of the poor and those in want. We may even see real works of compassion that actualize political promises. A great nation can refocus its resources but there is an even greater need that we keep our faith resources focused. As the stories of the disaster remind us, in critical life moments that challenge our hopes and future, there come times when all we have left is our faith in that which is beyond us. There are moments in each life when the hope that carries us on comes not from what we do but what we ultimately trust only God can provide. From a roof top in the midst of a storm there is little more to hope for than a miracle. When the food and water run out there is not much more that can be done but pray. Yet thousands survived by moments of unexpected grace. A tree branch grabbed at the last minute, a helicopter descending out of the storm, an unknown stranger who extended a hand. In various moments there came gifts that saved a life for no logical or definable reason. Some would call it luck, but the eyes of faith see more. Believe more.
Our world is filled with moments of crisis. If you go to the ELCA Disaster Response website maintained by our church today you will find details of how you can help address needs related to Hurricane Katrina. But you will also find that this domestic disaster is not the first disaster listed in the global consciousness of our church. The first disaster identified as needing our response is the massive famine in Niger where the UN estimates some 800,000 children--that's 800,000 children --are on the brink of starving to death. Now 800,000 is almost double what the population of the city of New Orleans was before Katrina struck. And it doesn't stop there. Number four on the disaster response list is the disaster alert that was posted August 29, the day Katrina struck the coast, concerning the famine in Ethiopia affecting some 12 million people. These are numbers that defy the mind's ability to truly grasp their meaning. They are the crowd scene photograph that pictures everyone and yet no one in particular. We encounter such needs and numbers and cannot help but wonder what anyone can do.
Two or three gathered in my name, that is what Jesus said. Jesus strove first and foremost to help his disciples to understand that God's grace and love for humanity was not for the mass of humanity at all but for each and every person. Each and every individual human being. The distinctive characteristic of Jesus' ministry was that he performed no generic miracles. That is, he never looked at the crowd and said "Okay, everyone is healed". Every miracle Jesus performed had its particularity. Jesus is a personal savior. He is not the savior of a particular race or ethnic group, not the savior of any particular lifestyle or nation. Jesus came to save each of us from our particular sin. Even the guidelines for restoring community that is part of our Gospel lesson for this day were given for particular application to individuals. They were not intended for the general community, not for a village or city, but on the particular community of faith. In the end it is a focus on the two or three who gather in Christ's name, not the hundreds of the congregation but the individual who comes before God to receive a gift of grace through word and sacrament. It is one wafer of bread, one sip of wine, a particular encounter. Grace comes to each person, each of us. And my grace moment cannot be your grace moment.
This is one of the hardest truths for us to embrace. Our God is an individual God revealed in the particular human form of one named Jesus. Our God is not elusively transformed into a rock or tree, an animal or various human forms. There has been only one divine revelation because our God is one. The creator of infinite variety and possibility yet particular in the form through which we come to know him. God comes to each of us in particular moments that are distinct for each of us.
The thousands and millions who have needs cry out for God to deliver them and the divine response struggles to find human form. As we learned just a few weeks ago, Jesus taught us that the feeding of even 5,000 is possible with amazingly little but it does require the miracle of grace in human form. There was an offering of loaves and fishes and each person received that which the disciples distributed. In that moment the miracle multiplied. Could that be what God intends. That the people of God find in the shared moments of two or three gathered the power of the community of faith.
We will send what we have to bring relief to those in the gulf states, a case of bottled water, a box of diapers. Each item will have value to the individual who receives it. There will be reports of numbers. Thousands and millions of items and dollars will be enumerated but what will matter is the particular encounter of the work team that cleans one house, repairs one roof.
What will define a life will be the school that reopens for a particular student who is waiting to continue their education. Each crisis of our lives is defined in the specific form through which we find God present to us often through the words, gestures and touch of those around us. We want to fix things, repair the damage, cure the disease, remove the pain. Yet what we know is that life, even the most perfect life, is not without the moments of doubt and struggle. It is the two or three who gather that provide space for God's grace to enter the world. There are no guarantees, no magic formulas that will fix the destruction of a hurricane over night. There is no magic here that can cure a threatening disease or restore life where it has been lost. But faith does hold us together. Faith does focus our lives and gives us something to hold on to.
"Where two or three are gathered in my name", the focus is not on a claim to the power of numbers. Prayers do not depend on unity of mind or even heart. They recognize our dependency on the spirit and body of Christ. We do not stand alone.
We have Christmas lights on a couple of the trees and bushes in our back yard. White Christmas lights that are turned on periodically even during the summer just because they add a different look to our night time yard. Our neighbor's grandchildren like them because through the woods they say they look like fairies dancing in the trees. But every fall I have to take them down and replace them with new strings of lights. The problem is that the strings of lights are set up with certain bulbs that act like a fuse for a segment of the lights and when that bulb fails all the rest of the lights go out. One bulb determines the light of the whole string. The interesting thing to me is that the key bulb's location on each string of lights is different so I have yet to be able to distinguish which bulb it is that will keep the string lit until it fails--and then it is too late.
The world tests us with words that divide and moments that define. No one can yet predict which cell in our body will cause the cancer, which point in the levee will fail, which career decision will prove most fateful. Likewise no one can yet predict which person around us will be the one we may some day need the most to support us in the moment of crisis. The one who joins with us to become the two who gather in Christ's name.
Jesus calls us to be a community of the faithful to recognize our unity in Him. To be the two or three together--in prayer--in study--in service--in worship--to be church. In the midst of the storms of life, sometimes all we can do is huddle together and pray trusting in God's grace to carry us past the storm into a new day. Sometimes all we can do is hold on to a promise that "I am there among them".
Years ago Pastor Chris told me about a resident at the nursing home where she was chaplain. I believe her name was Ruth. Ruth was on the third floor which was where the Alzheimer residents lived only she did not have Alzheimer, her struggle was Parkinson's disease. Ruth was extremely cogent much of the time but sometimes she seemed to see truths in the extreme. One day Chris brought her communion. As she prepared to leave Ruth's room Ruth took Chris' hand and held it. She held it and held it and held it, until finally Chris said, "Ruth, I need my hand." "I don't think so," Ruth replied. And then she thoughtfully added, "This may be the only hand I have to hold today."
We are the responders to the disasters of the world. We are the two or three or more who gather in Christ's name seeking a way to wholeness for God's world. We do so prayerfully and tentatively. We take each grace moment we are offered with the understanding that this may be the only grace moment we have this day, so we hold on. Hold on and live by faith. Hold on and await the promise of a new day of grace. Hold on to the promise that where two or three are gathered in Christ's name, there is he in our midst.
Amen