None Of Us Is The Messiah: Mid-week Reflection

THE REV. KATHLEEN M. STURGES

“The Messiah has come…and you are not he!” Several years ago one of our bishops declared this to a group of priests. The bishop was addressing the tendency of priests to work too long and carry too much of a burden upon themselves. But parish priests are not the only ones who struggle with this. We all find ourselves in situations where people’s needs and the demands of life can consume our time, attention and energy. Surely, I am not the only one whose calendar is packed and to-do lists are exhaustive? I don’t think so.

We all need to be reminded that none of us are the Messiah, the Savior of our churches or workplaces or families. Thankfully, that position has been taken by someone who is much more capable and qualified than any one of us. Our role when faced with the various needs is to be present and engaged, to support those in our care to the extent we are able, to trust and pray - all the while recognizing that we cannot do it all. Some things will get done, other things won’t. Some needs will be met others won’t – at least not by us. But because the Messiah has truly come and we are not he, it’s going to be OK.

10 Pentecost Sermon

THE REV. KATHLEEN M. STURGES

“Your assignment,” said the college professor, “Your assignment is to go out into the community, play the part of a person in need, and ask for help.” Jake Herzog, eighteen at the time, remembers sitting in his freshman counseling class in Michigan hearing those words. It struck fear in his heart, but being a good student he knew that he would do it.

So on the morning that he chose to complete his assignment, Jake awoke, didn’t comb his hair, didn’t shave, didn’t shower. He smelled a bit from working out the night before which was good. Then he dug through his laundry basket to find the dirtiest, smelliest outfit he could. And when you’re eighteen living on your own for the first time, it’s not a hard to do. Next, he hopped into his car drove to the next town over and found the biggest, most imposing church around.

Turns out it was a Catholic Church. Jake parked in the parking lot and gathered his courage. He then walking into the church building and asked to see the priest. A priest soon invited Jake into his office where Jake proceeded to tell him a true, but almost unbelievable story of an experience he had where it seemed that God acted in an amazing, even supernatural way. The distress and the help that Jake needed revolved around the fact that when he shared this experience few of his friends believed him. The priest kindly listened to all of it, offered his counsel and then ended with saying, “Jake, I believe you.” Jake was so relieved not only because this priest believed him, but even more so because his assignment was now over.

Fast forward twenty or so years later and Jake is once again in a church parking lot. This time after a Sunday service he attended. He’s headed to his car when a young, scruffy-looking man approaches him and asks for money for food. Jake’s a bit skeptical and in an attempt to see if the request is valid Jake offers to take the man across the street for lunch. “No,” the young man says, “that won’t work because I’m in a hurry to catch a bus. Can I just have the money?” Well Jake figured that this was a scam, but for unknown reasons he decided to give some money to this guy anyway. But just as he was about to hand over some cash the young man speaks again, “Uh, sir, actually I don’t need your money. I’m really a college student and I have to do this assignment for class. And you know what? This is the third church I’ve stopped at and you are the only person to offer any help.”

Jake was stunned. What were the odds of being on both sides of this assignment separated by years and 2000 miles? And on top of that how curious that both Jake and this college student both chose churches to test.

Our reading from Hebrews today tells us, “Do not neglect hospitality to strangers.…” Hospitality is supposed to be a key hallmark of a church and of Christians. Throughout Scripture, in both the Old and New Testaments, God commands over and over again for her people to extend hospitality to everyone and, in particular, the stranger.

Nonetheless, it’s a struggle because human beings have this type of psychological gravity about them. You know how the earth’s gravity wants to pull everything toward the center? Well people, Christians and non-Christians alike, have that type of gravity, too, in the sense that our feelings, our concerns, our resources get pulled into ourselves so very easily that there is little room for hospitality.

Now when I talk about hospitality I’m talking about more than just being nice and polite. Although being nice and polite is a good place to start. I’m sure we can all remember going to a church for the first time and whether or not someone said hello. It makes a huge difference, doesn’t it? And I hope that sitting here in this church that if you see someone you don’t recognize that you warmly welcome them and help wherever needed so they can know what’s going on in the service.

Hospitality starts there, but quickly moves into a deeper way of being. Christian hospitality is about generously providing care and kindness to whomever is in need. And we do so in response to experiencing that generous care and kindness showered upon us by God. We then become conduits of God’s hospitality - we receive it and then it flows through us.

However, if hospitality is solely focused on what WE do and how WE serve, then such hospitality is a one-way street and there may be a problem because it can set up a very unhealthy dynamic. Several years ago I was listening to an author being interviewed. The book title was what caught my attention, Toxic Charity: How the Church Hurts Those They Help and How to Reverse It. I haven’t read the book, but that idea of toxic charity has stayed with me. The way I understand it is that if we as the Church insist on having exclusive rights to being the giver, then the relationship can become poisonous. On one hand you have the “haves,” those who extend hospitality, those who have the power and on the other hand you have the “have-nots,” those who receive, those who are powerless and are at the mercy of the haves. Even though our hospitality may be well-intentioned, such a dynamic can damage the soul.

The book of Hebrews offers us a life-giving way of understanding hospitality. “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers,” it says, but then it goes on, “for by doing so some have entertained angels without knowing it.” Now I’m not going to get into whether or not angels are among us, hiding their wings under their coats or not. But what I do want to highlight is that the role of an angel is to be a messenger for God. In fact, the word, “angel,” comes from the Greek word, “angelos,” which literally means “messenger.” If that is the case, if when we show hospitality to a stranger we are actually encountering an angel, a messenger from God, someone who has something for us, an encounter with the Holy - then it changes the relationship of hospitality so that both parties are givers and both are receivers. We may have resources to give, they might have some message from God that we need to hear. It becomes a two-way street.

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

May God grant us the grace to push against the forces of psychological gravity that pull us towards ourselves so that we might have a greater ability to see beyond ourselves - showing gracious care and kindness to both friend and stranger. And regardless of whether we serve a student on assignment, an angel in disguise, or someone who’s down on their luck, may we heed whatever message God has for us as we experience the joy of sharing God’s hospitality to the world.

Reflections from Summer Camp: Emily Rutledge

Dear Parents,


I saw you, during that opening in the pavilion this week as you dropped your babies off at camp.  I was the chaplain, the one that prayed during the opening and watched carefully as you each worked your way through the registration line to get your child’s cabin number and head up the mountain. See, what you may not have known was that across that field in a home I could see from where we were standing were my two little people; 4 years old and 2 years old.  They are here with me as a chaplain for the next week and a half.  As each of you walked up that mountain to settle your camper and then walked back again to get into your car and drive away, I prayed for you.  My mama heart could not imagine that feeling.  Maybe this isn’t new for you and the anxiety was less, maybe it was your first time and you worked hard to hide any concerns you were feeling. 

We feel it, don’t we?  When we are responsible for a human and then drop them off with people we know are good people but know nothing about -- there is a tiny knot in our stomach that forms.  We worry about whatever we have to worry about for our particular kid; bullying, breaking a bone, missing home, food allergies, lack of a filter, sleep difficulties, and all the things that make our kid our kid.

Here is the report from the front lines: they are okay, better than okay actually. 

Those counselors.  Their whole self is invested in your child finding community.  I’ve seen it.  They seek the outlier.  They spend their time knowing your child, connecting them to others, and finding ways for them to grow life-long friendships.  They worry and pine and pray over the child that is struggling and refuse to give up no matter how many failed attempts at connection or brush-offs they receive.  They come back early from their days off just so they don’t miss their favorite evening activity with them.  They are all in.

Those medical forms.  People read them… carefully.  The nurse is of course fully aware of all issues but your child’s nut allergy or asthma is the first thing covered in the first staff meeting that they have when your child arrives on the mountain.  No one is playing around with allergies or illness.  There is care and kindness and attention paid to each child’s individual needs.  Those forms are not looked at once and thrown aside.  Cabinets are cleared, bunks chosen, and daily plans made to be sure each child is safe and well-cared for.  Also, those emergency medicines are no small thing!  Those counselors are ready at any second for the worst to happen… fanny pack on hip.

Those kids missing home.  They exist.  They miss you… and they are never ever left alone to do so.  Those first few days can be hard as they miss the people who care for them at home.  When they feel that creep in, the people here show them how worthy of love and time they are.  They are learning about the body of Christ in a tangible and concrete way.  Yes, your child may have shed a tear at some point.  No, it was not unrecognized or pushed away.  They were given an extra dose of love, a few more hugs, and lots and lots of reminders of why camp is exactly where they need to be… we would be incomplete without them.

And finally, yes, they have found friends.  We are mid-way through St. George’s III and those kiddos are connecting and laughing and being ridiculous together.  They already have cabin inside jokes and nicknames.  They are walking arm in arm, singing silly songs, giving high-fives, and being part of something positive and life-giving and real. 

My two little people are here with me and I have to tell you, I’m so glad you raised the kids you’ve raised.  They have taken my children in, loved them, played with them, and made them feel safe and secure. Someday, I bet, your child will be my children’s St. G’s counselors and that makes the knot in my stomach for drop-off in 5 years much much smaller.

So no matter what totally non-detailed answer they give you about camp… I caught them having the time of their lives, and they are thankful for you loving them enough to send them here!

Blessings and camp joy,

Emily

Click here to learn more about The Diocese of Virginia's Episcopal summer camps at Shrine Mont