Kahu's Manao

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany
Sunday, January 31, 2010

The Rev. Kealahou C. Alika

“The Cost and Joy of Discipleship”
Jeremiah 1:4-10 & Luke 4:21-30

“You know,” he said, “There’s no one in our congregation who is willing to step forward to serve as the Moderator of our church. I’m tired. Maybe it’s time for me to move on.”

I wanted to offer words of encouragement until I remembered that we are in a bit of the same predicament ourselves here at Keawala‘i. There is still a need for us to find someone to serve as the Secretary of our church. There is still a need for someone to serve on our Board of Mission & Outreach as well as at least three others to serve on our Board of Christian Education and a minimum of two others to serve on our Board of Trustees.

I learned a few days later from a member of his congregation that there is a sixteen year old boy who is willing to serve as an officer of their church. “Some said he is too young, but no adult has stepped forward,” she said. “He is a very capable young man,” she continued. “He is not timid and I think he will do just fine.”

It should not surprise us that we often place our young people on the margins of our churches and our communities. Perhaps that is why when Jeremiah was called to serve as a prophet to the nations, he expressed his reluctance to God by saying, “I am only a boy. I do not know how to speak.” (Jeremiah 1:7) He may well have asked, “What will others say?”

Or he may have wondered, “I would be a fool to think that I could be a prophet to the nations, to those who are our enemies, to those who seek to destroy us.” But Jeremiah becomes aware of God’s promise and knows that whatever the cost and joy of his calling, God will be with him every step along the way.

All of us are called in some way and in some fashion to a life of service. We see what such a life of service may mean when we look at what happened to Jesus when he returned to Nazareth.

The message of the good news of God’s love is to all – especially to those on the margins of society. If we are to comprehend God’s grace and mercy, it will not come from the walls we build to exclude others.

That is what Jesus makes evident when he speaks to those who were in the synagogue that day. “The truth is when there was a famine for three years and six months during the time of Elijah, Elijah was sent to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon.” (Luke 4:25-26). He adds, “In the time of the prophet Elisha it was Naaman the Syrian who was cured of his leprosy.” (Luke 4:27)

“There were many widows and lepers in Israel,” Jesus explains, “but none of them were helped or cured.” (Luke 4:27) Those who heard him speak that day were filled with so much rage they were prepared to kill him.

Who are the ones we place on the margins of the societies in which we live today? Who are the “widows” and “lepers” among us today? The danger we face when we confine ourselves within the walls of the church is that we may find ourselves confined within the walls of our own minds and hearts. We assume that the good news is only to us and not to those whom we marginalize because they are different – different because of their gender or sexual orientation, race or religion, age or disability, marital status or family constellation.

I was on O‘ahu for a meeting on Tuesday. On my way to the airport I drove into the cold front that was pushing its way from Kauaʻi to O‘ahu. Within a day that front would find its way to us here on Maui.

I had just enough time to get to the airport from my meeting in Manoa. He was there again at the intersection of Nimitz Highway and Paiʻea. The rain that came in with the cold front fell in heavy drops between the massive concrete columns of the elevated freeway.

He stood on the corner under a section of the freeway that gave him a modest amount of cover from the water cascading down the gray walls of the columns to the ground. The soles of his bare feet – not shoes – were black from dirt and grime.

Whatever he was wearing was caked with mud. His hair was matted and his face and hands were covered with the same dirt and grime that covered his feet.

He stood about three feet from my window at what must be the longest traffic light on the island of Oʻahu. I wasn’t sure if I should look at him to simply acknowledge his presence or to avoid looking at him altogether.

I managed to glance at him a couple of times as he puffed on what may have been a discarded cigarette butt. He moved closer to my window. I thought then that his eyes seemed hollowed-out and his mind vacant.

I worried for a moment that he might gesture with his finger, “Roll your window down,” and then ask for “spare change.” But he didn’t.

Would the good news of God’s love for him make any sense if he did not have enough food to eat and water to drink or a place to call home? I wondered. I also wondered how it was that when we talk about budget cuts we always seem to abandon those most in need – by cutting support for mental health workers, public defenders, teachers and so many others.

The light turned green. I drove on watching his image in the side mirror quickly dissolve into the icy rain.

If the truth be told there are many who want the “Syrophoenician widows” and “Syrian lepers” and the poor among us to disappear from view. The “labels” or the “categories” or the “issues” may be different but the consequences are the same.

“We are not like them. They are not like us.”

Like those in the synagogue that day who became filled with rage over what Jesus said, there are those in our churches today who seem to be filled with equal rage if we dare say anything about “them” – whoever “them” may be. But Jesus spoke the truth.

So it is that we find ourselves having to speak our own truths, not to those outside the walls of our churches, but to those within. And the truth is this: God will be present in and among those whom we least expect. Yes, even in and among those whom we do not expect and God will be present in and among those whom we exclude.

We may create margins on the edges of our societies for those we deem less desirable. Such folk may not be welcomed in our some of our churches but there is room enough for all in the kingdom of God. There are no margins in the kingdom of God.

We may lament the lack of enthusiasm among some to serve others through the various ministries of our churches, but if there is any consolation in the story of Jeremiah’s call it is that God calls each of us to a life of service and that God will be with us along the way. The cost may prove to be more than we bargained for especially in light of what happened to Jesus that day in Nazareth. But the joy – the joy will be more than we will have ever imagined possible.

Amen.

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