Acts 11:1-18
“Stories, not
arguments, change lives”
The Apostle Peter was not only a great
disciple, he was a pretty good Jew. Both religiously and culturally, he was
observant of Jewish Law. Peter was a perfect example of how religious and cultural
beliefs are often homogenized to create dangerous habits which we bless as
holy.
For some very good reasons, the cultures
of the Middle East followed similar food laws.
Even today, one would not offer a ham sandwich to a Jew or a Muslim. The reason
for this was a dietary reality which evolved into a religious custom. Spoiled
meat makes one sick. In ancient times, most folks in the Middle
East had not developed the technique to preserve certain meats
such as pork. Therefore it was believed if pork made you sick it must be sinful
to eat it. The fact that the Greeks and Romans had learned to correctly cure
pork had very little bearing on this ancient Jewish custom. They were gentiles.
What could they possibly know anything about the mind of God?
Another curiosity concerning the Jews is
all males were circumcised at birth. This was done to properly identify the
child as a member of God’s community. There were no exceptions. In order to be
a Jew, one must be circumcised. This action was understood to have been commanded
by God but perhaps this “command” also came with a great deal of cultural
pressure. Unlike Christians, who are commanded by Christ to baptize the world,
Jews have never aggressively involved themselves in evangelism. Courting
gentiles was seen as a detriment to the purity of their culture. Besides, how
many non-Jews would want to go through this initiation?
Peter, a circumcised, non-pork eating
Jew, was struggling with both the commandment of Jesus and his cultural
upbringing which suggested such as action would be against the will of God.
Members of the church in Jerusalem
debated the nature of this new movement. Would converts become an extension of
their Jewish faith or were they something altogether different? Could followers
of Christ still remain Jewish? The debates raged into the night. Paul seemed
determined to take his story of conversion to Jews living in the Gentile world.
What was to stop Greeks and Romans from desiring to hear Paul’s good news? Where on earth was the new church headed?
In order to escape the debate, Peter
made a trip to Joppa. There he had an amazing dream. He saw heaven opening up
and a feast being laid before him. Only the food offered was not lox and
bagels. God offered a banquet of pork and all other kinds of unclean meats. Peter
protested, only to hear God say, “What God made clean, you must not profane.”
Peter awoke greatly puzzled by the dream,
but only for a moment. Men appeared at his door claiming they had been sent to
ask Peter to follow them to Caesarea and meet with a prominent Roman who wanted
to know about Jesus. Ignoring his traditions, Peter followed the men, met with
Cornelius, and testified to him about Christ. That day Cornelius asked that his
whole family be baptized. Peter, remembering his dream, baptized the
uncircumcised gentile and the rest of his family.
Then
Peter made a bee line to Jerusalem. Finding the council still engaged in debate
over their mission to Gentiles, Peter quieted the crowd and told them his story.
He ended it by saying, “Who was I to hinder God?”
A
hush fell over the crowd. Then they praised God saying, “God has given life
even to the Gentiles.” (stop)
I
believe, more often than not, stories, not arguments, change lives. Every
culture has the habit of forming their beliefs out of its tradition. That’s why
conversion from those traditions is so hard. We have all the facts and
sometimes even Bible verses to support our cultural conclusions. And then we
have a dream or hear a story that makes us reconsider what is holy.
Some
of you are old enough to remember when only men could be ordained as ministers
in the Presbyterian Church. In 1965, Hanover
Presbytery ordained Rachel Henderlite as a minister of Word and Sacrament. I
remember being a bit outraged over the fact that a woman could be a preacher. I
asked my father what qualified her to be a minister. He started out with her qualifications.
“She is a graduate of Agnus Scott. She received a Masters from New York
Theological Seminary. She has a Ph.D from Yale. She teaches Applied
Christianity at the Presbyterian
School of Christian
Education and has written five books.”
I
interrupted him, “But she is still a woman!”
“And
so is your Aunt Evelyn.”
My
dad did not need to repeat the story of my aunt becoming the first woman elder
in Blue Ridge Presbytery. He did not have to remind me of the difficulties she encountered
once she was awarded this distinction. I
knew my aunt well. I knew her as an intelligent, faith filled woman who was a
blessing to her church. In my eyes no one was more qualified to be an elder than
my Aunt Evelyn. I stepped back from my previous position, convinced it was OK
for Rachel Henderlite to follow in the footsteps of my aunt.
That
might have been my first conversion, but it was not my last. Being a proud white
Anglo-Saxon Protestant, I am not ashamed of my heritage. I am not a racist.
None of us are, at least in our own eyes. Logically I knew all men and women
were created equal. But deep down I knew God had created me a cut above anyone
else. The proof of my ignorance came at
church where everyone looked just like me.
In
college I developed a relationship with a fellow student named Ballard Lee.
Ballard had completed two years of college before being drafted. After two
years in the Army, including a tour in Viet Nam , Ballard enrolled as a
junior at King. Ballard was 6’7’’ and weighed around 240 pounds. He played
power forward on King’s basketball team. Having become somewhat enlightened in
my racial stereotyping, I was delighted when Ballard came to King because now
we had two blacks starting on our team. I went to all the games, home and away,
as the Tornadoes ran through its conference schedule. One day on our way to
class I said to Ballard, “You are a man among boys on the basketball court.” He
stopped, placed his huge black hand on my shoulder, smiled and said, “I am a
man on any court. I think you are the one who needs to grow up.”
Those
words were not spoken out of anger or resentment. They were words of truth
spoken in love by someone who understood God a whole lot better than I. Ballard
knew if I was going to travel God’s road I needed to revisit some of my
presumed truths.
Jesus
said to the disciples, “I give you a new commandment that you love one
another.” Karen Armstrong in her book The
Spiral Staircase notes that in most religious traditions, faith is not
about belief but about practices. There are so many things that we practice as Christians
that might not have anything at all to do with Christ. Being a good Christian I
once questioned the credibility of folks who didn’t happen to be male or white.
I judged rather than loved, causing me to say and think some rather foolish
things. I give thanks for stories that cleansed and corrected my vision.
I
suspect we all have our cultural idiosyncrasies that keep us from fully
embracing our neighbors with the love of God. While some churches in our denomination
continue to be embroiled in arguments concerning sexual orientation, this
congregation has a story that has helped to define us as the Church of Jesus
Christ. Rather than being compromised by a shallow reading of a Levitical law, we
embraced the command to love one another.
Wouldn’t
it be wonderful if instead of identifying folks as “gentiles” we could encounter
them as Christ has always encountered us? Imagine greeting each other without
prejudgment, without cultural bias, without suspicions. Imagine simply greeting others with the peace
of Christ.
I
know we live in a dangerous world. There are a lot of crazy folks out there.
But sometimes it is our preconceived godly practices that lights the fuse of anger
or hate. Or in the words of my friend, “Sometimes we are the ones who need to grow
up.”
For
the life of me I can’t remember Jesus saying, “They will know you are
Christians if you believe the right things.” I seem to remember what Jesus said
was, “Love each other, as I have loved you, and everyone will know you are my
disciples.”
To God
be the glory. Amen.
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