Journal Excerpts from our 2014 Mission Trip to Maine Seacoast Mission

    

         This past week, nine people accepted the challenge to become the hands and feet of Jesus – as well as your hands and feet – by representing our church family on a mission trip to Maine Seacoast Mission in Cherryfield, Maine.  Cherryfield and the surrounding small rural towns are in Washington County, one of the most impoverished counties in all of the United States.  Based in Bar Harbor, the Mission provides spiritual, health, and youth development programs in such coastal and island communities from mid-coast to Downeast Maine. 

         Through food pantries, emergency financial assistance, home repairs, in school, out of school and summer youth leadership and development programs for children in grades 4- 12, the mission brings support, compassion, and hope to the people it serves.

         Our team (myself, Joe Foran, Caryl Gilman, Marie Guerin, Martha Morrison, Lois and Chuck Waldron, Sue Dexter, and Tom Wiley) was based on the Mission’s Downeast Campus.  In addition to a staff and office building, there is the Edge Community Center, which houses the youth programs in addition to the Table of Plenty, a weekly community-wide supper which has managed to bring what, in many places would be disparate factions unable to see eye to eye, into a cohesive community committed to bettering the lives of one another.

         There is also a building called the Weald Bethel Chapel which became our “elegantly appointed” home away from home for the week – lots of space upstairs for cots and mattresses, a downstairs kitchen and eating area, bathroom, and outdoor showers. It is no longer used as a chapel per se, but Martha discovered that its name means “a forest sanctified by the presence of God” – and I do think that a Holy Presence graced us both in the chapel and on the jobsite this week.

         We began each day after breakfast with a centering time.  Every morning, someone read the poem you just heard as well as a different translation of the reading from James.  The Message Translation was the one WE found most meaningful.  Then we headed off for a full day at our assigned jobsite. 

On Thursday, the day it rained, we completed some work instead around the chapel on the handicapped ramp and outdoor showers before knocking off early to visit the Downeast Salmon Federation in East Machias, a non-profit facility raising over 135,000 salmon fry to introduce into the local river in an effort to repopulate these fish that are now on the federal endangered species list.

         After work each day, we returned to the chapel for a well-deserved shower and then all pitched in to prepare delicious meals ranging from stir-fry to burgers to turkey with all the fixins’. We ended our days with an evening reflection, prepared each night by one of the team. 

         In the quiet candlelight of our reflection time, we wrote haiku and 6 word sentences.  We listened to a sung version of the Prayer of St. Francis and reflected on important questions about Christian mission and our expectations and attitudes toward those we serve.  Then we would always end our time together with the reading of a psalm, the singing of a song that Caryl had chosen, and a sort of benediction lifted and paraphrased from John Irving’s novel, The Ciderhouse Rules: “Good night you queens of New England and Princes of Maine.”

         Each one of us kept a journal during our time away.  I hope I can give you a flavor of our experience by reading excerpts from all of our journals – and by showing you what the week was like through the visual presentation Joe put together from the many photos he and I took.

         One evening as l lit our candles for our reflection time, one candle for each day that had passed, I spoke a single word, which I intended to summarize each of our days.  The words were travel, overwhelming, opinionated, breakthrough, and, I would add now, community.

         The following journal excerpts are both a day-to-day recounting as well as a musing on those five daily words.

 TRAVEL

         Here we go again.  Three and a half hours driving with a stop for lunch.  What does this journey hold for us?  I am leaning toward a great moving experience.  As I said – faith, fellowship, and fun.  Let’s hope that frustration does not rear its ugly head!

         The scripture at worship today was just right – get out with the people in person.

         Here is a sign that our team will work closely together.  We each brought our own individual lunches, but when we stopped, those lunches were arrayed up and down the picnic table – an open invitation and never spoken assumption that all was to be shared – egg salad, vegies, chips, blueberries, home made chocolate chip cookies.  Perhaps in that simple gesture we were like the earliest Christian congregations where everything was held in common.  Is sharing the basis of true community?

         What will I experience this week, and what will I see differently that can help me make sense of my life and start to ask myself different questions before I make decisions?

         I hope to be coaxed out of my comfort zone.  There’s no room for “can’t” or “not sure” when there are certain things to be done in a certain order to get the overall job done.

         I expect to work very hard this week.  The jobs will be much more physical than the normal workday, but I am ready for it.  Perhaps I am like the awestruck youth on Christmas morning in anticipation of what lies ahead for us.

         My thoughts turn to all the things we didn’t bring – all the things we will need to take to the jobsite.  But I need to let go and let God.  Things will work out fine.  They always do.  Besides, we can only handle what God expects from us – nothing more.  God gives us what we can handle and the desires and knowledge to overcome all obstacles. 

        

         May we grow stronger in compassion.  May we encounter God’s spirit in each other as we get down into the mud together to serve humanity.  Guide me as I strive to be present in loving kindness in the midst of pain and suffering, joy and peace.  Help me to embrace it all as I have the privilege to serve this week and to be in fellowship with such a warm and generous group. 

OVERWHELMING

         We will be adding insulated skirting to a 60+ year old trailer that houses a family of four – in addition to Muffin, an elderly dog, and a variety of cats.  Laurie appears to be a stay-at-home/unemployed Mom.  Danny is employed seasonally when he can get work.  He was on a lobster boat most of the time we were working on his home.  I understand that their annual income as listed on their application to the Mission for this work was $15,000. Sky is their15 year old daughter who is recovering from a compound leg fracture and getting used to a new set of braces.  Derek is their quiet middle school-aged son.

         Earlier this spring, the trailer was condemned because part of the roof had caved in, and the children were removed temporarily from their home.  Since then, volunteers from Maine Seacoast Mission have put on a new roof, which seemed to satisfy DHHS on the livability issue, so the family has been reunited.

         As is often the case with rural poverty, the signs are more hidden than overt:  a cracked septic line that had never been fixed and leaked sewage, a gerry-rigged series of ancient propane tanks in need of repair, no contract with a propane company for lack of upfront money, obesity and the tendency toward it most likely the result of food insecurity – not lack of food but lack of the ability to shop for much other than processed foods with all that high fructose corn syrup – a sense of hopelessness, a feeling that this is the way life is, and a loss of energy perhaps best exemplified in the old tires and rusted tools lying around, the complete lack of landscaping, and the nasty wasp and hornet nests left to multiply in the walls.  The only thing that seemed precious to Laurie was a poorly maintained lilac bush that her father had given her and that she asked us not to remove.

         We arrive at the job site, and it feels somewhat overwhelming – lots of stuff around that has to be moved, lots of digging, sawing, building to be done – WOW!

         We will have a lot of cleaning up to do before we can actually begin work on the skirting – hauling, digging, clearing brush.

         No decent plumbing, rotted wood, and lots of stuff all over the yard.  I have seen such places many times, but the impact of discovering people actually live there is humbling.  

         I’m thankful for the energy to bend, lift, throw, kneel, give something of myself to others. 

         Lois went right to the digging and leveling.  I think she worked on it almost across the whole front of the trailer.  I liked working with her and with Martha on measuring and cutting.  She is very calm and right there with tools you might need. 

         The team is working well.  People see a job that needs to be done and just “get their hands dirty.”  And oh, also their face, shirt, pants, and places in between. 

         Joe and Chuck are the problem solvers.  Chuck said one evening that he had not done that sort of thing in a long time and did not know if he was still capable of it (Believe me, Chuck, you are!).  Each segment of insulating foam board and plywood needs to be attached to a wooden frame.  Those frames need to be appropriately reinforced and fitted plumb under the trailer.  Since the trailer is so old, there are rusted structural flanges to be taken into account as well in getting a proper fit.  The two of them spent a good part of their day on hands and knees or prone:  measuring, digging, shoving, digging some more.

         Building and installing the frames in picky work and slow going – doesn’t feel very productive.  Each frame has to be custom-built, and the next one can’t really be customized until the first one is installed. 

         Like the tortoise – slow and steady wins the race.  Building the frames takes time, but just like all we do.  If we are in a hurry we don’t enjoy it.  Also we do not build a strong basis as we are taught each and every day of our lives.

         We all know something that needs to be done but not always how to do it. 

         There was a lot more progress made than most people had expected – in spite of things like wasp and hornet nests and structural pieces of the trailer which became working obstacles.

         Marie is the Chop Saw Queen.

         It’s part of my make up to think we are supposed to stretch and take on hard work and not expect God to carry us through.  But what if the whole point is that God is like Tom and Joe and Caryl and creates thoughts in us that we then examine? God starts us; we choose what to dare, and God keep us going.  Yesterday, Joe said, “Come on – it needs to get done and you can do it.”  I said, “Not sure, but I’ll try – and don’t let me hurt you.”  Joe arranged the task so I could do it.  It was not about him, and now I can dare more next time.  And so in that recognition, I cry out “Abba”, which a teacher three years ago told me means “daddy” in Aramaic:  my daddy on this trip as well as my Heavenly Father. 

         Where two or more are gathered in my name – there is love.  St. Francis’ prayer always grounds me and nourishes my soul and my heart.  I want to begin each day reflection on this with intention.

         I love painting.  

         Faith into action. 

         The teams shift depending on what needs there are.  There is no animosity for folks taking breaks as we each are pushing ourselves at different paces.

         “Being useful”:  my Mom’s voice echoes to me.

         Many hands make light work they say – it’s often times like that one can accept the difference they’ve made but it also makes me think that another saying “it takes a village” might be more appropriate.  We contributed in keeping this family together. 

         Hot sun, misty rain, bee stings, dirt, mud, bandaids, power tools, measuring, cutting, hauling, lifting, fitting, refitting, refitting again, laughing, eating, praying, reflecting, asking more difficult questions than perhaps we have asked before.  No mission trip is the same.

OPINIONATED

         What is the purpose of mission?  Why are some people so easy to serve – and others not?

         It continues to puzzle me why people would throw trash in their yards.  This worksite reminds me of India.  It puzzles me how careless some can be of their surroundings.  I need education on this. 

         Despite the pigpen around the mobile home, there are some beautiful trees.  Nancy helped me liberate a small one from undergrowth.  I would like to know the skill/secret to liberating people from patterns of living that are not positive and lead to poor decision-making. 

         I understand diversity and varied levels of motivation, but I wonder why.  Will the answer be revealed in the afterlife – or will we not need to know?

         How can a family with an annual income of $15,000 afford a satellite TV dish and a separate internet dish?   Is TV really that much of a necessity?

         Trying to keep positive and smile - this puts me at peace.  I truly am here to contribute and re-assess.

         Yesterday Dad raised an interesting question – why do you go?  Is it for the people you help?  Or is it for what you gain in your heart and soul? 

I said the former, and Dad pretty much insisted it must be the latter, but that our goal must be about the changes we know our work will bring – in us, in our faith, our sense of helping and being a part of the world – and in one sense of doing what God would do – and does – through us and our energy.  I don’t know how to answer the question but maybe I will understand a bit better by Friday. 

         Why is the family indoors watching TV all day?  Why does Maine Seacoast Mission not have an expectation that the family will help out in some way – sweat equity?  Sometimes I feel like I’m a hired hand, a nameless contractor here to do business.

         This family is so different from last year’s client we served.  Their level of poverty was so easily traced to uncontrollable medical issues that brought them down and left them in a financial bind they could not escape.  This year’s family is so different. I suspect this is second or third generation poverty. We have all sensed their lack of communication with us.  Why? Is there a sense of entitlement here?  Are they embarrassed? 

         For the family, there seems to be little knowledge of public health.  Reminds me of the novel by Ken Follett (Pillars of the Earth) about medieval living.

         We are all trying to make sense of this.  Maybe we were spoiled last year.  If this year’s work had been our first year’s work, would we have been so eager to return?

         What is mission?  What should our relationship with this family be?  Is what we are doing just a bandaid – eliminating a symptom of poverty but not touching the cause?  Or is a bandaid enough?  Who decides who is deserving?

BREAKTHROUGH

         Who are we to jump to conclusions?  But it can be second nature to do so. 

         Thank you, God, for your guidance and compassion.  What would you do and in what spirit would you do this – our work with this family?

         Just read of the passing of Robin Williams.  That makes you stop and think about how vulnerable we all are in this little world.  We may never know all the details but as I have learned very often dealing with my demons….sometimes the inside doesn’t match the outside.

         I was new to the endeavor and knew not what to expect other than the tales of prior days and pictures to date.   Though I often note the failings of my own aging home, or the upkeep that needs tending...  I realize I live in a very modest home but it's much more than several have in this far northeast corner of our own state of Maine.  First observations are not good, and I don't even realize how judgmental and prejudice my thoughts are until hours later.  

        

         As I sit back later and hear a few others share their dismay at the living conditions, surmising what has brought the family to this situation, and I realize my thoughts were not alone.  I reach a bit deeper to think of my own living conditions.  I realize that this group is trying to make a difference and feeling challenged with the tasks at hand but it's a step.  Who am I to judge?  I certainly don't have the cleanest house, I don't have the most kempt yard in the neighborhood, and I don't strive to 'have it all'.  We each prioritize and either fight for more or accept what we have - thus the phrase "to each his own" but I'm struggling with how bad things must be to just 'accept'. 

         Maurice (our at-the-site contact from the Mission) asked me what I thought of the people we worked with in Washington County.  After hearing his own story, I will say:  “Maurice, when I think of Washington County, I’ll think of peo0ple like you who care, help, participate.  Learning his story has taken away the argh of what appeared to be a family in opposite mind-set.  I do not know their circumstances totally, so no more judgment!

         Dad was right, you know….Yes, it’s about giving and doing as God would do, but it’s also and probably most about what can change within our hearts and perspectives.  It’s about not just doing and execution and getting it done but also about listening and empathy and communicating –

with each other, but also with the family we serve. 

         We talked about our reaction to the trailer and the family and then realized that maybe we had a few prejudices ourselves, some expectations, and some disappointments about our experience.  So Dad was right.  We needed to be self-conscious about the importance of OUR experience and pour in a few cups of “what’s it like for our homeowners “and a few tablespoons of communication with a pinch of common sense. 

         We got to a very good place together and it took all of us to get there and it was very good, the way it happened.

         I guess maybe we need to be less concerned about the satellite dishes on the roof, the whys and wherefores of the homeowner’s lack of financial resources or their relationship with us as a mission team – and more concerned with what we were called to do – upgrade a pretty dismal living space so that the family – Laurie, Danny, Sky, Derek, Muffin, and the cats - can remain together under one roof and in one trailer.  It may not be the sort of life we would want to be living, and we should never stop asking the bigger questions, never stop trying to untangle the roots of poverty, never stop walking in the footsteps of Jesus, but maybe for this week, we were called to set aside our prejudices and expectations and be content knowing that we have been that small church with a big heart in action, that we have made a difference. 

COMMUNITY

         I look forward to pizza with the family on Friday and getting to know them. 

         After our breakthrough reflection, I think we are all feeling upbeat about the work we are doing. 

         We have made it to the top of the mission roller coaster and are on the way down.  Powerful and meaningful reflection last night.  My Lord, make me an instrument of your ways.  Take my hand and guide me on this mission.  The work we are doing is your work. 

        

         On our final day, we got to do some stuff from the heart as well as from the hands.  I made a garden box for the front of the trailer.

         We transplanted small evergreens and golden rod and strawberry plants to the front and side of the trailer.  The practical reason was for erosion control, but the heart reason was to add a bit of beauty to this place.  Maybe Laurie will try to keep the plants and trees watered and maybe do some gardening of her own.  Being outdoors working the soil is such a calming thing to do.  Maybe planting and maintaining a garden could give her a bit of control in a life, which must so often seem out-of-control.

         I really loved adding a little extra to both hold the dirt and make it more beautiful.

         The front of the trailer now features a transplanted garden, properly sloped drainage, and on the side a new dryer vent.  What seemed like a daunting task at the beginning of the week is taking shape. 

         In addition to functional changes, there have been aesthetic ones too.  Very satisfying week!

         I have learned or used skills that I don't use every day, I've stepped out of my box and gone on this trip, and I've made a small difference.  So, it's about me and feeling comfortable with myself, but it's also the feeling that we were a team.

         Lois works hard doing everything from shoveling to putting in screws to cutting blue foam to painting to landscaping.  And, if you ask her if she want’ me to “spell her”, the answer is no!

         Chuck, in addition to being a retired chief actuary, is a major problem solver.  He is also one with the puns, keeping us suitably entertained with his crazy word plays.

         Joe laughed more this year than last – either because Chuck tells funny jokes or they just had a good time problem solving together.

         Martha is the perfect surgical or building assistant, bringing just what you need when you need it – when she is not picking up, shoveling, measuring, and more.

         Tom is the chief boy scout – always prepared, lots of energy, and a master at putting the plywood skirting on the trailer.

         Sue will do anything….dig, hold screws, screw in screws, use a pick ax to dig out dirt, landscape, and more.  She does it all quietly and patiently. 

         Nancy, our spiritual project manager, made sure we had a reflective time in the morning and night.  Her choice of the poem was inspired – really had me ready to spread the love as I could each day. 

         Caryl (who wrote this) was in my element as project manager on Wednesday when I knew what needed to get done and could have two crews working on separate but related work. 

         Marie is the Chop Saw Queen (the CSQ).  She stood there for hours each day cutting pieces for the boxes to hold the skirting – or cutting whatever else was needed.  She also did other things as well – putting in screws, grading, and more.

         This is quite a crew and just right to do the work we did. 

         I remember the poem, and I see stardust everywhere!

         Working together, struggling together, learning together, eating together, laughing together, sharing together, praying together, singing together, accepting one another.  So much gratitude – thank you, God. 

         It is time to go home.  Eyes are squinting and very tired looking, but we have made it through.  Hopefully we will help Laurie and her family stay together. 

         The trip is awesome and teaches us what we should be as a fellow Christian.  Yet each and every day we get carried away with our personal needs and not those of our fellows. 

We all need to practice being a better Christian each and every day.  Be more for the men and women around us and less for ourselves.  What a concept!

         This week was a lesson in realizing how often we make assumptions, how near to the surface our prejudices really lie, how the roots of rural poverty are tangled and many, how we are called to set all this aside, to be in the moment for a while, and to be Christ-like in our actions toward others.

         I have gained more spiritually by being a part of our group than I have ever imagined.  Thank you, God, for taking me out of my comfort zone and into the mud.  Amen. 

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church (U.C.C.)

        

        

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 "Of Children's Games and Oxen Yokes"

        You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly! 

         “Mom….Mom…Mom!”

         “What?”

         “I’m bored!”

         Who among us has not heard a child somewhere, sometime, using the “B” word – and using it in that whiney voice that children have been perfecting since the very beginning of time?

         “Mom!  I’m bored.”

         It is summertime, and the livin’ is easy.  School is out, but not many days have passed before it begins.

         “Mom!  I’m bored!  There’s nothing to do.”

         “Why don’t you go outside and play?”

         “It’s too hot!”

         “Then sit by the fan and read a book.”  (PAUSE)

         “Mom!  I’m bored!”

         It is like those fickle boys and girls that Jesus was talking about, the ones trying to decide on a game as they sat around in an ancient Capernaum marketplace.  “We played the pipe for you, and you did not dance.  We sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.”

         However, in this passage that we just read, Jesus is really not talking about children in a marketplace unable to choose between pretending to be brides and grooms, pallbearers and gravediggers.  He is talking about his generation of fellow Jews, all of them awaiting a Messiah that was both big enough to save them from the imperial domination system of the Roman Empire that was crushing them economically and socially and yet small enough to neatly fit into a box that was understandable, manageable, and, above all, satisfying.

         And in these verses we just read, Jesus – in his usual blunt manner - accuses his listeners of not being content with anyone God might have sent to help them out of the predicament God understood them to be in.  God just could not seem to get it right – from their perspective, that is.

         First, there had been John the Baptist.  Now he was a real loser – running around like a mad man predicting in his fiery rhetoric the most dire doomsday imaginable:  The end is near!  The end is near!  Repent, or every single one of you will be swept up off the proverbial threshing floor and burned like the leftover chaff when the wheat is milled.

         And the outfit he wore?  A tunic made of rough camel hair?  Now that was really over the top.  I mean, come on, how comfortable can that be?  Besides, John did not even eat like a normal human being.  When he was not fasting, he was noshing on insects.  And I heard tell that he never once touched a drop of wine.  That John was way too stern and serious.

         Surely such an oddball freak – not to mention such a dour, down-in-the-dumps one – surely such an oddball freak could not be speaking the word of God to them.  After all, they were the chosen people.   “We sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.”

         And now there was this itinerant rabbi, Jesus.  He wore a normal dusty, dirty robe with a splattering of last night’s dinner speckling its front – no camel hair, at least.  And he did not do the locusts and wild honey diet either, but, really, the people he ate with?  Definitely the wrong sort:  you know, from the other side of the tracks - most of them being drunkards and gluttons. 

         And we all know that birds of a feather flock together.  Dour, down-in-the-dumps John may have been a teetotaler, but that Jesus?  Why, I heard tell that once he did not have enough wine to drink at a wedding, and so he made more – six big jugs of it - from purified water, no less.  Bet he had a headache the next morning after that little binge.

         And besides, Jesus laughs too much.  He smiles at and actually seems to enjoy little children.  And all he ever does is tell stories. He makes religion seem like a joyful thing.  

         Surely such an oddball freak – not to mention such a gentle and humble at heart one – surely such an oddball freak could not be speaking the word of God to them.  After all, they were the chosen people.  “We played the pipe for you, and you did not dance.”

         You cannot win for losing!  That is for sure.  “Nothing satisfies this generation,” Jesus declared.  “I mean,” he pointed out, “there just seem to be an awful lot of bystanders and critics sitting around calling out the shortcomings of anyone God might have sent and all the while awaiting a Messiah that meets their own narrow and downright silly expectations.”

         Open your eyes, O fickle generation!  Open your hearts to embrace God’s passion for the world!  Throw your narrow and downright silly expectations for the Messiah out the window, and see that Jesus – this laughing, humble, gentle, wide-eyed lover of life embodies God’s dream for us.  This man Jesus is all that God hopes we will someday be. 

         And if God’s dream for the world is to come true someday (and face it, we are a long way from that particular truth), then surely we will need to change our tune.  As Lutheran pastor, Joshua Villines, noted, “It means changing the way we see ourselves, it means changing the way we see other people, and it means changing the way we live our lives. That’s takes a lot of effort.”

          When it comes to change, you see, we all carry a lot of baggage.  When it comes to change, we are all burdened, and we are all heavy-laden. Just like the final verses in this passage point out.    These are verses that, at first reading, seem so disconnected from the image of children playing in the marketplace.  However, if we read them in their entirety and if we affirm that as Christians, as followers of Jesus, he challenges us to walk his way, to embody in our own lives the precious dream of God that he is, then these final verses are none other than the very foundation of our hope that – somehow, sometime - we will indeed usher in God’s reign of compassionate love along with that peace which passes all our understanding.

         There is a little known legend about Jesus in the years before his public ministry, those decades that our four Gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John - tell us nothing about. The legend claims that Jesus was not only a carpenter, but he was one of the master yoke-makers in the Nazareth area. People came from miles around for a yoke hand carved and crafted by Joseph’s talented son.

         When customers arrived with their team of oxen, Jesus would spend so much time measuring the team, their height, the width, the space between them, and the size of their shoulders. Within a week, the teamster would return with his beasts of burden, and Jesus would carefully place the newly made yoke over their shoulders, watching for rough places, smoothing out the edges, and fitting the yoke perfectly.

         It is a lovely legend, I think, because it directs us to the yoke Jesus invites us to take, the one he speaks of in our passage.  “For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. 

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

         However, do not be fooled or lulled into complacency by the word “easy” that so many Bible translations use.  You see, the root word in Greek refers to tailor-made yokes.  So – what Jesus is really saying is this:  “My yoke is well-fitting.”

         The yoke Jesus invites us to take, the yoke that brings rest to our weary souls, is one that is made exactly to our lives and hearts. The yoke he invites us to wear fits us well, neither does it rub us nor cause us to develop sore spirits.  Most of all, the yoke is designed for two. And our yoke-partner, of course, is none other than the Messiah himself.

         However, be aware that Jesus is not letting us off the hook when it comes to the heavy baggage and burdens we bear.  As Methodist pastor, Curtis Goforth notes, “Jesus is using the language of plowing here, of yoking two animals together so that they can get some work done. Notice Jesus doesn’t say to us, ‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. For my mattress is made of space-age foam and my pillow is soft and smells like lavender and eucalyptus.’ Jesus doesn’t promise anything about removing work from those who come to him. But he does promise rest to them.”

         Goforth goes on to say: “When Jesus says to ‘take my yoke upon you, and learn from me’ he is not simply telling us to listen to his words because there might be a pop quiz next week. A better way of translating the Greek here “learn from me” might be something to the effect of “be my apprentice” or even “be my yoke mate.” Jesus isn’t telling us to simply listen to his words but to learn from his actions and to work along side him—the same way an apprentice watches the master and learns how to do his craft. We are to watch the way Jesus operates so that we might see how to operate.”

         There will always be fields to plow.  There will always be Kingdom work to be done.  And there will always be times when the fields and the work seem endless, when our lives pull us in too many mindless or painful directions, when more than anything we just want to rest, put down our heavy loads.

         We all yoke ourselves to something, you know.  It may be to a job that is grinding us down bit by bit.  It may be to loans and credit cards that are burying us dollar by dollar.  It may be to a marriage that is falling apart day by day. It may be to an event in the past that we could not control then and the repercussions of which we cannot control now. 

         But whatever that yoke is for you, it dominates you and pulls you to places oh so dark and scary.  It carries with it a burden you cannot possibly carry.  And there is no yoke-mate.  You are alone.

         But the way of Jesus is different.  We are not shouldering the yoke by ourselves.  He is there, beside us, sharing the baggage we carry, not eliminating it, but simply sharing it, which, when you think about it, is really enough to manage the fear, the pain, the sorrow.  Take up his yoke and learn from him.  Learn of the power of prayer.  Learn of the need for friendship and companionship.  Learn of the fact that, as theologian Frederick Buechner wrote, “there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you too.”

         Open your eyes, O fickle generation!  Open your hearts to embrace God’s passion for the world!  Throw your narrow and downright silly expectations for the Messiah out the window, and see that Jesus – this laughing, humble, gentle, wide-eyed lover of life embodies God’s dream for us.  This man, Jesus, can be our yoke-mate and share our baggage and burdens. We can learn from him.  We should learn from him because he is all that God hopes that we will someday be ourselves – and be for one another.    

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church U.C.C. 

Matthew 10:40-42 "The Journey of Welcome"

You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly! 

         I heard a story about a woman who had invited some friends to supper.  When everyone was seated at the table, she turned to her six-year-old daughter and said, "Would you like to say grace?" 

         "I would not know what to say," the little girl replied. 

         "Just say what you hear Mommy say," her mother said.

         The little girl bowed her head and prayed, "Dear Lord, why on earth did I invite all these people to dinner?" 

         However you may personally feel about opening your heart and your home to strangers and guests, you would be hard-pressed to deny that the theme of welcome and hospitality threads its way through our Gospel reading this morning and, therefore, must have something to do with who we are called to be as Christians, as followers of Jesus.

         “Good morning and welcome to the Raymond Village Community Church.” “Welcome to Walmart.”  “Welcome to Maine:  the way life should be” – though I guess now it is “Welcome to Maine: Open for Business.”  Welcome to Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.  From welcome mats to welcome signs, we like to think of ourselves as being pretty well refined in the art of welcome and adept at the rituals of hospitality. 

         As well we should be, right?  After all, the art of welcome along with those rituals of hospitality are both deeply embedded in our religious psyche.  They are part and parcel of who we are in the Judeo-Christian tradition. 

         First off, welcoming the stranger is integral to the Jewish Torah.  There are numerous stories in the Bible to illustrate that ancient custom – like the one we read this morning about Abraham welcoming the three strangers to his tent.  Hospitality was a measure of the Jewish community’s faithfulness to God, and so, it is not surprising that the art of welcome lay at the roots of the earliest Christian communities as well. 

         For example, in the letter that the Apostle Paul wrote to the congregation in Rome, he advised the fledgling church community to welcome the stranger. Likewise, in the Biblical Book of Hebrews, the author reminds readers that in offering hospitality to those unknown to them, they might well be “entertaining angels unawares.”

         And here in our passage from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus cautions his disciples to welcome even the lowest and the least with, if nothing else, a cup of cool water.  In fact, he suggests that it is the very smallest of acts of selfless kindness that signal the start of true hospitality.

         These verses from the Gospel of Matthew conclude Jesus’ chapter-long discourse to his disciples as he sends them out on a journey of welcome to heal the sick, cleanse the leper, and even raise the dead.  So far, he has outlined the scope of their ministry and told them in no uncertain terms that what they are about to embark on will not be easy.  Now he finishes up his instructions and observations with a reminder of the ancient custom of welcome and hospitality – and the tantalizing mention of a reward.

         And on that note, Peter, James, John, Andrew, and the other disciples head out to do the work of ministry.  Jesus sends them with no suitcases or even a clean robe to change into. 

He sends them with no provisions, and therefore they will not know where their next meal is coming from. He sends them with nary a map or a GPS.  He sends them with no weapons save their compassion, their faith in a loving God, and their trust in the power of the Holy Spirit that somehow had lit a fire in the heart of each one of them. 

         “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me,” Jesus tells them as he bids them farewell.  “Whoever accepts what you do, accepts me, the One who sent you. Whoever welcomes or accepts one of God’s messengers, well, that is as good as being God’s messenger. Accepting someone’s help is as good as giving someone help. This is a large and difficult work I have called you into, but do not be overwhelmed by it.”  And with a wave of his handkerchief, he sends them forth on a journey of welcome.

         Now what made it all so darn difficult for the disciples was that being a person of welcome was far more profound and intimate than just being friendly.  Jesus asks more of his followers than kind smiles and easy handshakes.  The work of welcome is more than greeting people and saying hello – though our little ritual at the beginning of worship today is perhaps a tiny start.

Face it though: Real hospitality, like much of Christianity, is a risky and downright challenging business.

         You see, what Jesus is really talking about in this passage about welcome or hospitality is a deep and heartfelt acceptance.  What he is challenging his disciples to do is to receive people from the very bottom of their hearts and souls. What he is challenging them to do is to merge their life stories with the stories of those they meet along the way – even if they do not like or are fearful of those other stories – because that is how new and vibrant communities are formed.

         The work of welcome is acceptance – not tolerance but acceptance – of people with all their funny foibles and individual differences and divergent preferences.  The work of welcome is recognizing – and, more than that, embracing - the lesbian, the oddball, the Muslim, the freak as a child of God, just like you. 

         As Anglican Church of Canada pastor Craig Condon wrote, “To Jesus, hospitality meant acceptance of even those who, in his society and in his day, were deemed to be unacceptable. This is why he put his arms around lepers, ate with tax collectors and sinners, forgave adulterers and broke Sabbath laws. Hospitality was not only important to Jesus, it was at the very heart of being God, and it didn’t make any difference to him where such hospitality took place, or to whom, or on what day.”

         The work of welcome is venturing out of your comfort zone to where the other person is, rather than expecting the other to come to you.  It is inviting someone to worship – or inviting someone to coffee hour after worship – rather than figuring it is their responsibility to come through those doors into a place they have never been before or their responsibility to venture down to the Vestry and into the midst of a bunch of people they do not know. 

         The work of welcome is moving beyond a friendly greeting and instead personally inviting people into every aspect of what it means to be this church family here in Raymond – from pot roast suppers to Bible and book studies, from cantatas to hymn sings – not just an invitation to come but an invitation to work to plan, and to volunteer.  As Christian author Arthur Sutherland states, "Hospitality is the practice by which the church stands or falls."

         In this brief passage we read, Jesus may be speaking to his disciples – Peter, James, John, and the others - and maybe we are thinking that we should be breathing a sigh of relief that we live some 2000 years later – and are not in danger of being swept up in the company of that ragtag bunch – sans suitcase, provisions, maps, and suitable weaponry.  However, Jesus’ words about welcome are for us as well, both as individuals and as a church family. 

         Just as he sent the disciples all those eons ago, Jesus also sends us – we who say we are Christians - out on the same journey of welcome.  Oh, not all of us may be ready to knock on doors, seeking out the marginalized, the lost, and the lonely.  He understands that.  However, surely, all of us can at least open the door.  And maybe it is time for us to push the boundaries a bit anyway, move outside our comfort zone, trusting as we have been taught that with God all things are possible.

         The journey of welcome we have chosen – and our presence here today is a testament to that choosing – the journey is a difficult one; that is true.  However, the journey of welcome is also a privilege.  It is a privilege because, as we journey, we get to represent Jesus.  On this journey of welcome, we are called to be Christ to those we meet.  By what we do, people will see what God is all about.  How exciting and inspirational is that?        

         And so I ask you, as Methodist pastor April Blaine once asked her congregation: Who will meet Jesus this week in you?  Who will see you this week and also see God?  Maybe through something you say or do not say.  Maybe the time you take to listen.  Maybe the care you offer to someone right at the moment they need it….For whom will you be Christ’s representative in the world?....Who will see God in you?”

         And not only will we represent Jesus on this journey of welcome, we will also encounter unending opportunities to see Jesus in those we meet.  It is as Mother Teresa once noted: "I see God in every human being. When I wash the leper's wounds, I feel I am nursing the Lord Himself. Is it not a beautiful experience?" 

         The journey of welcome then is at once challenging, inspirational, and beautiful beyond measure.  One would think that such would be enough for even the most cynical among us.  However, woven in and among Jesus’ words in these verses is talk of a reward, a reward for embarking on this journey of welcome.  Whatever could he mean by that?        

Well, first off (and hopefully this is not too much of a disappointment), the reward is not something we earn – like a pat on the head, stars in our crown, or a one- way ticket to the pearly gates when the time comes.  The reward is not payment for services rendered, so we ought not bother keeping score:  I cleansed two lepers and helped one old lady cross the street today. 

         No – the reward is Jesus himself.  The reward is the experience of God’s grace. The reward is a life transformed – both our life and that of the man or woman or child we meet along the way. The reward is the gift of doing our part to bring forth God’s kingdom of justice, reconciliation, peace, and compassion. The reward is truly being in relationship with Christ.

         That’s it! Risky and challenging as it may be, Christianity is really startlingly simple.  It is like the story of a Sunday School teacher who could not open the combination lock on the supply cabinet at the church. She went to the pastor for help.

         The pastor started turning the dial of the combination lock, stopped after the first number, looked up serenely toward heaven, began moving his lips silently, turned to the next number, repeated the process of looking up and moving his lips,

then turned to the third and final number, opening the lock to the cabinet.

         The teacher gasped, "I'm in awe of your faith, pastor, and the power of your prayers."

         The pastor replied, “I have to be honest. The three numbers are written on a piece of tape up there on the ceiling."

         You just have to know where to look.  You just have to know the basics, which are stated in all the Gospels in various ways.  For us today, the basics are these.  First, you are on a journey of welcome, and when someone sees you, they see Jesus.  Though your actions, you let them know what God is like.  And second, on this journey of welcome, when you see someone, be looking for Jesus, for he is there in your presence – and respond accordingly.

         As Presbyterian pastor Alan Brehm noted, “It’s really no more complicated than that. No elaborate systems, no obsessions with keeping every jot and tittle. At the end of the day, it’s about having a heart that is willing to give to others the same grace, and mercy, and unconditional love that we have received.” 

         Jesus calls us to a journey of welcome. It is a journey that is at once challenging, inspirational, and beautiful beyond measure. And now is the time to take those first steps.  So go, go forth and be persons of welcome as Jesus has called you to be.

.

        by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church U.C.C.