February 15, 2004

Sixth Sunday of Epiphany 

Luke 6:17-26

 “Close Enough?”

     Pete Hawkins sent me a great little story in an email the other day.  It’s about two brothers who were farmers on neighboring properties. 

     For years, they helped each other work the farms and even loaned each other equipment.  But conflict erupted between them and it drove them apart.  They stopped helping each other, even stopped talking to each other.  Eventually, things got so bad that one of the brothers took a bulldozer and dug a trench between the two farms so that a creek could run between them, creating a clear boundary. 

     One day, a carpenter arrived at the door of the older brother, looking for work.  He told him, “See that big pile of lumber over there by my barn?  I want you to build an eight foot high fence out of it so I don’t have to look at my brother’s farm or even see his face anymore!”  The carpenter said he understood and would do his best.  The farmer left for the day and left the carpenter to his work. 

     When he finally returned home, his jaw dropped at what he saw.  Instead of building a fence, the carpenter had built a bridge right over the stream, with handrails and all!  And coming onto the bridge from the other side was the younger brother!  They met in the middle as the younger brother said, “After all I said and did to you, I can’t believe you would build a bridge to me!” 

     As the brothers had a happy reunion, the carpenter turned to go.  “Wait,” the farmer said, “I have other jobs for you.”  “No thanks,” said the carpenter as he hoisted his toolbox to his shoulder, “I have other bridges to build.”

     When Jesus preached the Sermon on the Mount, he didn’t stand in a lofty pulpit, but got close to the people.  The Bible tells us he stood with them and people came from all around to be near him.  He healed their diseases and vanquished their unclean spirits.  Verse 19 tells us they were all trying to touch him because that’s the way his healing power was communicated.  Even the words of Jesus’ teaching were intimate.  “Blessed are the poor,“  he said, and the hungry and those who weep, too.

     This was not the more distant language we hear from the Gospel of Matthew: “Blessed are the poor in spirit” and “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”, but the direct, close enough to touch words of poverty, hunger and grief.

     Notice too, the “woes” that are included in this teaching.  Woe to the rich, the full and those that laugh.  And why - aren’t these good and blessed things?  Not if they distance us from one another, not if they buffer us from human need.

     The blessedness of neediness has to do with pride and privilege and comfort no longer being in the way of our relationship with God or each other.  Faith is so much stronger in emergency rooms, funeral parlors and among the poor.  Need awakens us to our fragile humanness and to the love and power of God.  Or at least it should.

     Pride is a powerful thing and some people take it right to the grave.  Blessed are those who let go of it enough to see their need for God.  Blessed are those who let go of it enough to get close to the needs of others.  Blessed are those who build bridges instead of fences.  Jesus said we are to love our neighbor as ourselves (even if that neighbor happens to be a pain-in-the-neck relative!) and we can’t do this from a distance.

     Do you see the connection here to your personal relationships?  Do you see the connection with broader relationships, too?  What chance is there that the fence now being built between Israel and Palestine will bring peace to the middle east?  About as much chance that fences, physical or emotional, are going to bring peace to our families and communities.  Bridges must be built instead.

     This morning, a dear friend of mine is taking a chance with her congregation, hoping they are close enough to her to support her in what can be a very controversial decision.  Rev. Carolyn Patierno is the pastor of All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church, our neighbor up the block.  She has decided not to sign any more marriage licenses until the state of Connecticut recognizes all couples, straight, gay or lesbian with the same rights under the law.

     I’ve worked with a number of gay and lesbian parishioners and clergy over the years, but Carolyn is the first to become a true friend.  Closeness puts things in perspective.  Friendship doesn’t allow room for prejudice.  The bridge that exists between Carolyn and myself is one of respect, understanding and trust.  Her sexual orientation just doesn’t matter to me.  Her friendship matters to me.  Carolyn matters to me. 

     “Love can build a bridge between your heart and mine”, the Judds sang in a country song a few years ago.  Jesus loves us all, no matter what our orientation to sex, to life, to anything might be.  Jesus is the bridge builder.  We are at our best when we do likewise.

I’d gladly walk across the desert with no shoes upon my feet

To share with you the last bite of bread I had to eat.

I would swim out to save you in your sea of broken dreams.

When all hopes are sinking, let me show you what love means.

I would whisper love so loudly every heart would understand

That love and only love can join the tribes of man.

I would give my hearts desires so that you might see

The first step is to realize that it begins with you and me.

Love can build a bridge between your heart and mine.

Love can build a bridge.  Don’t you think it’s time?  Don’t you think it’s time?

     Some of us crossed that bridge together yesterday and what a blessed thing it was to be here among God’s children as more than 100 people were served at our Community Dinner.  Here, many of our poor, hungry, homeless, troubled or lonely neighbors sat down to be waited on hand and foot, served restaurant-style with all the food they cared to eat.  Here, they found Valentine decorations and heart-shaped boxes of candy waiting for them.  Here, they found respect and compassion.  Here, they were blessed.  We all were.

     You have to get close to need to meet it…and to meet the Christ.  It’s not the easy thing to do, the cheap or convenient thing to do.  It’s just the right thing to do. 

     What we do with that pile of lumber that is our life is up to us - fences or bridges.  The choice is ours.  Blessedness will wait for us to decide.