As most of you know, last week I was at the General Assembly in Indianapolis. I want to thank you, the members of this congregation, and especially our board, for making it possible for me to attend. Although I have been to a number of previous assemblies, I had forgotten just how important, how valuable it is, to attend, to represent our congregation in the business sessions, to maintain our connection to the wider church, and to be enriched by the speakers and resources that enable a more effective and successful ministry.
To tell you about the whole Assembly would be too much, unless you want to sit here for a couple of hours. That would be a real Assembly experience, because there is, in fact, a lot of sitting at the General Assembly—sitting through business sessions, sitting through resource groups, sitting through meals and evening worship. But I will spare you that part of the experience.
So I’ll tell you about just one day. The day I think I will tell you about is Saturday, the fourth day of the assembly. I woke early on Saturday in order to attend the Ministers’ Breakfast, which was sponsored by the Pension Fund. It took place at the Marriott hotel, just across the street from the convention center.
The speaker at that breakfast, William Lee, did an outstanding job of speaking to health and wholeness. He pointed out that ministry is ranked lowest among professions when it comes to one’s health. Ministers, I guess, just don’t do a very good job taking care of their bodies. We need to do better, he said.
He spoke to us as we were eating our breakfast of bacon and eggs and delicious, high-carb muffins. I think he may have had a point.
When breakfast was over, I walked across the skywalk that connected the Marriott to the convention center. Business sessions always start with a Bible study; then, for the next several hours, we received reports and voted on various resolutions.
Lunch that day was, for me, at a meal sponsored by Christian Theological Seminary, which is the seminary from which I received my Master of Divinity. It took place back at the Marriott, so back across the skywalk I went. This large meal included fried chicken, and ended with a dessert that was half apple pie and half cheesecake. It was good!
Saturday afternoon I spent in a three-hour writing workshop led by singer-songwriter Carrie Newcomer. I understand that, last week, Galen Goben mentioned Carrie Newcomer in his sermon. Well, not to brag or anything, but last week I was having conversation with Carrie Newcomer.
Dinner that night was once again at the Marriott. For some reason, three of the four meal functions I registered for were on Saturday, and all of them were at the Marriott, so once again, I headed across the skywalk.
This was the Disciples Care Network dinner, which featured Fred Craddock as the speaker. I hadn’t originally planned to attend this dinner, but Laurel graciously bought me a ticket, for which I am thankful. Dinner included three pork chops, rice, vegetables, and a large piece of rich chocolate cake.
In his speech, Fred Craddock spoke about the NBA—the National Benevolent Association—which was once the pride of the denomination. The NBA once had over a hundred facilities across the United States, care facilities, providing services to the elderly, the mentally disabled, and other groups. It was, I believe, the 12th or 13th largest charity in the nation at the time. Because of the NBA, we were the envy of other denominations. As Craddock put it, “They will know we are Christians by our NBA.”
Then the NBA went bankrupt. People were hurt by this. Some said that probably it wasn’t right for us to be in the “care business” in the first place, and we should just let it go; but Craddock said that if we are going to get out of the “care business,” then we might as well get out of the “Jesus business,” because the two are the same.
Now we have the Disciples Care Network, which is a network of various organizations and care agencies all affiliated in some way with the Disciples. In northern California, I worked with one of those agencies—California Christian Homes—at a place called Buttes Christian Manor. We are still very much in the care business.
Which is very much a good thing. The theme of the Assembly was “For the Healing of the Nations,” and if we aren’t providing care, if we aren’t caring for others, especially the least of these, then we’re not helping them, allowing them to heal. If we’re not caring and healing, then we’re not living up to our identity as “a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world.” There are a lot of broken people, broken lives, in the world, and Jesus calls us to care for our neighbor, to help them find the wholeness they are lacking.
Well, after Craddock finished speaking—and even though I, despite my best efforts, left about two bites of chocolate cake on my plate—it was time to head over for the evening worship service. So once again, I headed across the skywalk.
This skywalk on which I kept going back and forth allows one to pass twenty feet above the street in air conditioned comfort, without having to cross the traffic. Twenty feet above the cars and trucks, twenty feet above the noise, and twenty feet above the beggars on the sidewalk.
It’s so nice not to be bothered by the beggars. They just make us feel so guilty. The chocolate cake just wouldn’t taste as good when you have to walk by someone who is hungry, someone who is in need of healing, someone who is in need of some … care. Thank God for the skywalk. If only the priest and the Levite could have had it so good.
I walked across the skywalk one more time and headed to worship. I won’t describe worship to you, ‘cause that would take too long. It was very good; you can watch it online if you want, at www.disciples.org. At the end of worship, it was announced that there was going to be an interfaith prayer vigil for health care. Originally scheduled to take place on the lawn of the state capitol one block away, the threat of rain changed the location to one of the convention center meeting rooms.
Even though it was late—about 10:00 by the time it got going—hundreds of people showed up. Our General Minister Sharon Watkins spoke. John Thomas, General Minister of the United Church of Christ, spoke. T. Garrot Benjamin, pastor of Light of the World Christian Church in Indianapolis spoke. A pastor who I was surprised to learn was my mom’s pastor up in Westwood spoke. And it wasn’t just convention-goers. People from the community were present, including representatives from Islam and Judaism.
T. Garrot Benjamin was the featured speaker. Ten years ago, Light of the World Christian Church brought to the General Assembly a resolution calling for health care reform. Benjamin referred to the scripture we heard this morning, how the Samaritan (of all people) was willing to spend his own money to care for the injured traveler, who—needless to say—had no health insurance. Shouldn’t we—he asked—be willing to do the same? As followers of Jesus, aren’t we called to care for those who need care, even bearing some of the expense for the care of those who cannot afford it?
As he spoke, I thought about the beggars on the street. I thought about the hotel workers, who I never saw, but who came into my room each day to straighten it while I was busy doing “God’s work.” I thought about the convention center workers, who took out my trash and kept the place clean. If they were earning minimum wage, that means their annual salary is $18,000 a year, probably with no benefits, no health insurance.
And that was when everything I’d heard throughout the day came together. The message of caring for ourselves that I heard at breakfast. The message of caring for others that I heard at dinner. And then the call to pray for health care reform late at night. It’s all connected. Being in the care business really is being in the Jesus business. It’s what we are called to do.
It is a challenging message. Many will ask, “Why should I help pay for someone else’s care?” The priest and the Levite asked that same question. Today, we can take the skywalk and avoid confronting that question altogether. But the Samaritan—the good Samaritan—confronted that question head-on, and the answer he came up with was this: We care for others, even if it means digging into our own pockets, because those others are our neighbors. And that’s just what he did, shelling out two denarii, equivalent to two days’ wages, for the poor traveler’s care.
Through the Disciples Care Network and its related organizations, we are caring for our neighbor. Through Week of Compassion, which responds to disasters and humanitarian crises around the world, we are caring for our neighbor. Through Global Ministries, which works to improve the lives of people in many countries, we are caring for our neighbor. Through the work we do here locally, in partnerships with COIA and other organizations, we are caring for our neighbor.
Now there is a new opportunity to care for our neighbor. The need has been present for a long, long time, but the opportunity is now. In a letter to the church, Sharon Watkins wrote that legislators are close to making health care reform happen, but they need to hear from the faith community.
On the day I returned from General Assembly, Ginger and I went to Wal-mart to get a few things we needed. There is no skywalk to take you from your car into Wal-mart; you have to walk across the parking lot and in through the front door. And there, in front of the store, just outside the door, were two girls selling candy out of a small ice chest. “Do you want to buy some candy?” they called out as we entered the store.
“No thanks, I’ve had way too much junk food lately,” I replied. I thought it was a good answer; I had eaten way too much junk food lately, and by saying no, I was caring for myself, just as William Lee had said to on Saturday morning.
We spent close to an hour in the store, buying some school clothes for the boys, and a couple of grocery items. On the way out of the store, the girls were still there, and, not recognizing us, they asked again. “Do you want to buy some candy?”
“No thanks,” I said, and walked on by. But then curiosity grabbed hold of me. I stopped, turned to them, and asked, “What are you selling candy for?” I assumed they were raising money for a school group or youth organization of some sort.
One of the girls, who looked to be about ten, said, “What?”
I said again, “What are you selling candy for?”
She said, “So I can have some new hearing aids.”
What kind of a world do we live in, in which a ten year-old girl has to sell candy in front of Wal-mart just so she can hear?
It is, indeed, a fragmented world in which we live. Today, more than 46 million Americans are without health insurance. They are our neighbors. Jesus calls us to care for them; but how? Selling candy bars in front of Wal-Mart isn’t going to be enough to provide them the care they need.
At the Saturday night prayer vigil, Sharon Watkins said, “I don’t have all the answers. I’m not a political wonk, I don’t know how to do this. But there are people in Washington who do. And they need to hear from us.” She’s right. Our elected officials need to know that we who are in the Jesus business are also in the care business. There is no difference between the two, as Fred Craddock said.
Our elected officials need to know that it’s important to us that those who are sick get the care they need. They need to know that if they make this happen, we’ll support them, and if it costs us a couple of dollars, we’ll still support them. They need to know that it’s important to us that little girls who need hearing aids get them.
All who claim to be in the Jesus business have a moral obligation to care for their neighbors, to not pass by on the other side. How we treat those in need of care, the least of these, is how we treat Jesus. Jesus said it himself: there is no difference. That girl selling candy bars, hoping to sell enough to pay for her medical care—she is Jesus in our midst. She is our neighbor. Like so many others, she is in need of healing, wholeness…
My friends, it’s not enough to call ourselves a movement for wholeness. We need to be a movement for wholeness … a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world.
No comments:
Post a Comment