october 18, 2009

Anna Blaedel
First UMC, Osage
October 18, 2009
Psalm 104:1-9, 24, 35c
Mark 10:35-45

It is Laity Sunday. A special Sunday established by the General Conference to celebrate the ministry of all lay Christians. It is good that we have a designated Laity Sunday, because we need to remember to celebrate the ministry into which all of us are called. It is not good, if we believe laity should be involved in the leadership, ministry, and mission of the church one Sunday a year. We need lay leadership. We. Meaning clergy. Meaning our church. Meaning, well, the world. If we are to be the body of Christ, we must remember there is not the body without the laity. Laity—meaning, of the people. You. Liturgy—meaning, work of the people. You. You are called. Into ministries of justice and compassion. To make disciples of Jesus. To transform the world. Not just when clergy are busy. Or out of town. Or sick. You are called. To share your stories. To tell your truths. To give testimony to God’s grace at work in your lives.

This morning Penney Morse will share part of her story. Her story of faith. Of call. Of seeking to live a life and build a world that is more just, more engaged, more peaceful, more compassionate. If I had my way, each and every one of you would be up here, in worship, creating our liturgy, doing the work of God’s people. God willing, we have many more Sundays together. Many opportunities for you to share your story. The invitation is extended. And now, we turn again to the gospel…

They are ordinary folk. I mean, extraordinary in the way that all of us are extraordinary—created by God, called good by God, called into ministry by God. But they are also ordinary. They are laity, let’s not forget. Not ordained. Not rabbis or priests or rulers. They go to their teacher: Do what we want you to do. The teacher is wise enough to ask what it is that they want before promising anything. We want to sit beside you, they say. Be near you. Enter into glory with you. They want to ride on his coat tails. The teacher can do all the work, and they can bask in the glow.

The teacher says, something to the effect of, “Do you have any idea what you will have to do—what sacrifices you will have to make, what courage you will have to summon, what grief you will be given, what conflict you will have to navigate, what opposition you will face? Do you have any idea? And they say yes. But they say it a little too quickly. The teacher isn’t sure they’re sure.

So, the teacher gives them a lesson. On leadership. On greatness. On using power. There are some, the teacher warms, who think that being a leader means flaunting your power—using it to dominate others. They scare people, threaten them, and then when no one challenges them, they convince themselves it is because they have been right all along. They amass great wealth, which is unjust as long as anyone is poor. They pretend to have a monopoly on the truth. They try to make very complicated issues black and white, and are quick to call others sinful or evil to build up the façade of their own righteousness. Don’t be like this, the teacher warns. This kind of power doesn’t make someone great. It will not make you great. It will not make you a leader. It will not get you a seat on my right, nor on my left.

But. It isn’t any more right to shrink back. To convince yourselves you are powerless. To bemoan what is happening, but let others try to make it better. Doing nothing will not get you a seat on my right, nor on my left. So. If you serve. If you value kindness over kingship. If you help the poor, build relationships with them rather than rob them. If you challenge injustice in whatever forms it presents itself. If you eat with people who are usually pushed away from the table. If you do the kind of work that is important, even if it is not the work that will get you noticed. If you speak the truth, rather than repeat what people want to hear. If you find the courage to tell your story, share yourself and your God-given gifts. Then…Then… Then, you will always have a place with me. Then, you will know you are beside me, and I am beside you.

May it be so.