The Murder of a Deacon and the Exile of a Father

After Jesus ascended, it took a while for his followers to settle down and get organized. One problem that quickly arose was the care for the poor, specifically the widow and orphans. They were being overlooked by the disciples because they were busy preaching the gospel and getting arrested. The complaint was brought up by the pastoral relations team and the disciples said to another, “It’s not right for us to forsake the word to wait on tables.” So they told the group to choose seven men who would oversee the care of the poor within their community. They would be responsible for making sure the widows were looked after, and any other need that arose within the community.

The community agreed, thinking this was an excellent idea and they chose seven men. One of these men in particular was a man full of faith and the Holy Spirit, named Stephen. We are not told a lot about Stephen except that he was full of grace and power, and did great wonders and signs among the people.

He argued with those who belonged to the synagogue of the Freedman. They could not match Stephen’s moxie and wisdom. They were angry with him and began to organize a coup to get rid of him. Eventually they convinced enough people that he was a heretic and the Jewish authorities called him to court to defend himself.

Stephen made them a long speech, the gist of which was that from year one the Jews had always been an ornery lot, stiff necked and circumcised as all get-out in department, but as cussed and mean as everybody else in the others. They’d given Moses are hard time in the wilderness, he said, and there hadn’t been a saint or prophet they hadn’t had it in for. The way they treated Jesus was the last and worst example of how they were just missing the boat, but doing their darnedest to sink it (Fredrick Buechner).

The authorities become incensed and filled with rage. For some strange reason, Stephen doesn’t come to invitation time after his sermon, instead reveals a vision he is having. He looks up and sees the heavens open up and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God. Well this angered the court even more. They covered their ears and rushed him with a loud shouts. They dragged him out of the city and began to stone him.

I am not sure if you have ever stoned someone to death. I doubt you have. It’s hard work, beating a person to death, especially a young person. You can’t just use pebbles and bottles. You have to get your hands dirty. You need the big rocks and you need to work up quite a sweat to finish the job. So they took off their coats, laid them at the feet of a young man named Saul, rolled up their sleeves and got to work.

The murder of Stephen ends a series of unfortunate events for the apostles. Things started off well. Hundreds upon thousands were joining the God Movement after Jesus ascended and the Holy Spirit descended on them. They were out doing amazing works until they hit a few bumps in the road. They encountered a pair selfish members who lied about their finances. Several of the apostles were beaten by the council after healing others. And then the disciples are tasked with solving a serious issue within the Movement, the care for the poor among them, specifically the widows. After Stephen’s murder, Saul begins to put the heat on the Movement, and many of them were scattered.

The murder of Stephen provides an honest tale of speaking something new into something old. If we were to place it in today’s context, you could see Stephen stepping into one of those mega-churches, standing in front of the preacher, and before the thousands seated there, “The Almighty does not live in man-made buildings. The prophet bears this our when he says, “The sky is my office, the earth is my den,” says the Lord. “What kind of house could you build me, or what kind of a resting place, seeing as how I’ve made everything already? (Isaiah 66:1, Cotton Patch Gospel).

You could see the preachers hearing this and stirring up one another. You could see them arguing with but unable to hold a candle to his wise and inspired answers. You could see those preachers calling up their friends and cohorts saying, “You won’t believe what we heard Stephen saying. We heard him saying some awful things about God and the Bible.” You could see them trying to get him arrested, claiming he is a communist, and how he’s against the American way of life.

We need to acknowledge, just like Jesus, it’s not atheists who murder Stephen. Stephen is murdered by the high priests and followers of God. Stephen is murdered by the Church. If I may, I would like to make a bold statement. Observing what informs our interpretations of scripture, our theology and image of God, I have come to the conclusion we no longer look through the lens of Jesus, but through the lens of twenty-four hour news stations, Christian network news, and other Christian celebrity personalities. In doing so, we have come to believe we are a persecuted group.

I would agree that we are persecuted group. We’re not persecuted by an anti-Christian government or lawmakers. The majority of the members of our three branches of government claim to believe in Jesus. In fact, the Supreme Court recently upheld prayer at the beginning of Government meetings. You may recall the Congressional chaplain taking congress to task in prayer to God for the government shutdown last year.  A prayer in which several praised him for. He did not end up like Stephen.

We’re not persecuted by antireligious groups. In fact, I wrote this sermon at a public restaurant in which I displayed my bible on the table, and prayed before eating. I wasn’t asked to leave. I wasn’t told to put my stuff away. I wasn’t taken out and beaten. We are gathered here this morning without the fear that someone will set our church on fire. The only fear I have this morning is being understood and making someone upset.

We’re not persecuted by the people we are lead to believe.

No, we’re being persecuted by those within the Church. We are persecuted by those who seek to maintain their worldly power masked as Christian propaganda. We are persecuted and divided by preachers and televangelists who build their flashy mansions on the sands of the dollar. We are being divided by those their own televised hour of commentary. We are persecuted by those who our brothers and sisters in Christ. The Church is persecuting the Church. The Church is persecuting anyone who dares to challenge the power structures of wealth found in the sermons of some of our prominent preachers.

I want to share with you my own experience of persecution. You may or may not be aware of this but I have experienced the pain of being fired from a church. I didn’t receive a letter from the President or Governor ordering my dismissal. I was fired because a deacon wanted my job, parents were upset about the type of kids showing up to the church. I was fired because I supported women in ministry. I was fired because I spoke out against the injustice of small town politics and silence regarding the abuse of many of the students. I was fired and we were literally given two weeks to get out of town by god-fearing Christians.

In 12 years of ministry and 33 years of life I have never been persecuted by an atheist or agnostic or a person of another faith. I have been questioned by them and engaged is some of the best conversations. However I have been called a liar, a heretic, and accused of apostasy. I have been accused of intellectualism because of my education and my critical interpretation of the scriptures. I have been told the devil has a grip on my life because of my struggles with depression. I have been called to council, cussed at and emotionally abused, all at the hands those who call me a brother in Christ.

It wasn’t the President who tried to get me expelled from seminary because of my understanding of Jesus. It wasn’t congress or the senate or the Supreme Court who fired my pastors and friends. It wasn’t atheists who organized secret meetings and secret emails, accusing the pastor of abandoning the biblical principles of the bible because he urged them to care for the poor and needy. It wasn’t an atheist who told the preacher she was sinning since she wasn’t preaching on hell, the inerrancy of the bible, the Holy Spirit, and the evils of abortion every Sunday. It was a deacon and when asked where he got that information, he said it was the 2 am telepreacher who told him so.

It wasn’t the atheist groups or Islamic groups that ran a young preacher out of a North Carolina town because of her gender. It was the local Baptist who did so with their pitchforks and threats of disassociation. It wasn’t the atheist who held the lives of starving children hostage until World Vision recanted their nondiscriminatory hiring policy. It was the evangelicals.

In my experience, my conversations with those who do not believe or do believe but no longer attend church, their reasons have nothing to do with our three branches of government or nonreligious groups. Their reasons are filled with stories of emotional abuse by their pastors, or other church members. Their reasons are filled with tormenting stories of alienation by other members because their skin color, gender, sexuality, their clothes, their hair, their tattoos, and their wealth were not up to the standards of the church. In my experience the enemies of the Church are the Christians who attend church.

It is safe to say that if Stephen were here before us. If he was preaching about how we were constantly missing the boat, all the while trying our darnedest to sink it, and how we’ve become not a people of God but a people of nationalism and power, I think we’d take him out back, and get to work on him.

There is good news though. You may recall a certain archconservative Jew named Saul stood by and watched the coats of the men who stoned Stephen. He never forgot that experience. He began chasing after them, seeking to end this God Movement before it could get going. He was the vilest of them all, as he often said of himself, until one day when he was on the road to Damascus and there he was blinded by the light of the Lord, and became a new creation. I wonder, as he stood there beside the coats, watching as a man is beaten to death, if he ever thought by the grace of God he would one day be on the other end?

I want to close with a true story: How many of you know who I would agree that we are a persecuted group. We're not persecuted by a anti-Christian government or lawmakers. We're not persecuted by antireligious groups. We're not persecuted from the people we are lead to believe.

No, we're being persecuted by those within the Church. We are persecuted by those who seek to maintain their worldly power masked as Christian propaganda. We are persecuted and divided by those who build their flashy mansions on the sands of the dollar. We are being divided by those with their own televised hour of commentary

Robert Carter III is?

Carter was the richest of all the members of the Revolutionary-elite and one of our founding fathers. He raised his children in a pristine mansion, owned a textile mill, over twenty plantations that produced cash crop, a bakery that could produce one hundred pounds of bread at once, a one-fifth share of Baltimore Iron Works, and nearly five hundred slaves. That’s more slaves than Jefferson and Washington combined.

Carter was a deist like Jefferson and Washington until the summer of 1777 when came down with fever heat from smallpox. He experienced what he called a grand illumination of the spirit. He began to explore religiosity, reading every book he could find, talking with ministers of every denomination, eventually confessing to the Church, “I doubted, till very lately, of the Divinity of Jesus Christ—I thank almighty God, that, that doubt, is removed.” He wrote to Thomas Jefferson a year later, “I do now disclaim it and do testify that Jesus Christ is the Son of God; that through him mankind can be saved only.”

Carter’s conversion went beyond pious posturing and words. The slaveholder who never intervened in overseers’ disciplining of his slaves now began to defend them openly. He scandalously he worshiped with not only Baptists, who at the time were thought to be ignorant and illiterate and were subject to summary arrest, he also worshiped with integrated congregations. On September 5, 1791, Carter put into action what the signers of the Declaration of Independence only wrote about, and freed every slave he owned. Not only did he free all five hundred (the largest number of enslaved human beings ever freed in America until the Emancipation Proclamation), he made provision for them during their transition to freedom, including housing that had been built for whites and arranging for them to farm their own shares on his plantations. He even refused to rent one of his plantations to a well to do Episcopalian minister because, Carter explained, his “present wish was to accommodate the poor.”

His actions caused a great deal of anxiety among the other revolutionary elite that some of his peers, including Thomas Jefferson, objected and claimed Carter’s actions were subversive to the colonies’ social balance and racial relations. They feared the potential of a backlash by white workers against their new competitors for wage labor. In other words, they feared his actions of freeing the enslaved would doom their revolt from a government that taxed without representation. They were afraid he was setting a dangerous precedent. He ostracized and his dangerous liberationist intentions were opposed at every turn.

Carter’s emancipation of his slaves cost him financially since slaves represented wealth in America’s economy and it cost him socially. To escape the controversy and the scorn of his peers, Carter moved to Baltimore, where he died in 1804, virtually alone. Yet his courage and willingness to put into deed the egalitarian, liberationist ethics of the faith that this nations’ Founding Fathers only put into words, and “laid the primitive groundwork for an interracial republic, challenging in numerous small instances the notion that young America would fall apart if blacks and whites were free at the same time” (Hendricks, Obery M. The Politics of Jesus: Rediscovering the True Revolutionary Nature of Jesus’ Teachings and How They Have Been Corrupted. p.185-87).

In the words of Paul for us today: For all of you are, children of God by the virtue of the Christian faith. You who were initiated in the Christian fellowship are Christian allies. No more is one white and another black; no more is one American and another foreigner; no longer is one a male and the other a female. For you are as one in Christ Jesus.

Love Is Stronger Than Death

It is impossible to narrow the kinds of suffering down into two manageable categories. Suffering of any kind is suffering. There are moments in life when we suffer for a purpose such as getting into college, finding a job, running a marathon, giving birth, or following the vision God has laid out for you. All of those things mentioned involve suffering because you are seeking to bring something new into the world. It’s painful suffering but it has a purpose. One cannot run a marathon without suffering through the training it takes to run twenty-six miles. One cannot give birth without having the pains of childbearing, no matter how many epidurals you may have. A church cannot follow its vision to serve God without encountering a few set-backs such as feelings of loss due to the change happening around you. These kinds of examples have a purpose. You are bringing something new into the old and doing so brings about a certain amount of pain and suffering.

There are moments in life when we suffer without a purpose, without a reason, without a logical explanation. Those moments include children who suffer abuse by the hands of authority figures such as parents, relatives, teachers, and strangers. Those moments include children who are kidnapped from their homes, sold into slavery or prostitution. Those moments include the loss of life to violent crimes and poor decisions. Those moments include those suffering from cancer, dementia, Alzheimer’s, AIDS, and other diseases.  They are examples of suffering in which there is no purpose and no reason. They are examples of our unfair world in which innocent people suffer because we are caught up in vicious cycles that bond us to the suffering of innocents. Our history has been built on the suffering of others.

Letters like First Peter have been used in our recent tradition to glorify suffering. Suffering, specifically suffering for Jesus, becomes a tool in which we are to engage in order to be commendable before God. We glorify suffering and we glorify death. In many ways we convey the message that death and suffering do not matter, and in turn we create an army of zealots who will follow anyone with a message of violence and destruction in the name of God. We create more Major Frank Burns than we do Captain BJ Honeycutts and Hawkeye Pierces or Radar O’Reillys. We build churches that are un-empathetic to plight of the poor and elderly, or those who suffer around them.

Without realizing it, they begin to turn on those within their own church. They begin to exile any who suffers and does not come to the conclusion that God has a plan for them so they should suffer in silence. The church becomes a place full of quiet suffers bullying others to hide their own pain. This theology leads to inquisitions, crusades, holy wars, violent and destructive acts, as well as life denying acts such as caring for the poor and elderly. Such a church’s slogan would read, “Dear children, you’re starving to death because Jesus wants you know how much you need him.”

Death and suffering, it can be argued from our current Christian perspective, is a tool in which we use to get from one side to the other, from one life to another. We have turned death into something that is glorious, passé, and unimportant. The grief process of death is swallowed whole by well-meaning friends with sayings such as, “He is in a better place,” “She is watching over you,” “Heaven has an angel,” or the worse one of all, “God needed your child to be with him.” The implication being one is not allowed to grieve because their loved one is in a better place, as if the family would prefer them to be there instead of here.

We have glorified suffering and death. We sing about death and suffering on a cross. We sing about being washed in blood. We cling to an old rugged and blooded cross, transforming its suffering and death into a joyful celebration. Clarence Jordan opted to use the word lynching instead of crucifixion in his Cotton Patch Gospel, saying, “Our crosses are so shined, so polished, so respectable that to be impaled on one of them would seem to be a blessed experience” (Jordan, CPG p.4). In other words we create a tenth beatitude: Blessed are the ones who are crucified for they will hang with Jesus.

We forget that First Peter was written to community without power. They are strangers in a foreign land. They were exiles trapped under the powerful heel of Rome. They were suffering extreme violent and perverted acts. They were being forced to suffer in order to divert the public’s attention away from their own suffering of hunger and oppression. These Christians were most likely poor, indentured servants, or slaves. They were not people of power. They did not have the power to change their circumstances in a manner conducive of members of the Movement.

Peter urges them to submit as a form of rebellion. He urges them not just take it like Jesus took it but to look to Jesus as their example. He urges them to not take up arms and resort to a violent rebellion that would certainly be squashed. No matter how much success Spartacus’ rebellion was, he was crushed by the boot of Rome and the 6,000 who had followed him were nailed to crosses lining the Appian Way. Peter offers another way. He tells them to follow in Jesus’ footsteps.

The response Peter makes an argument for is one we find within the Sermon on the Mount. He subtly refers to the passages on repaying evil with evil and the command to turn the other cheek. He does not, in any form, order the suffering Christians to just take it. He offers them a way to transform their enemies into their neighbors. What Peter is suggesting is reclaiming the power they have as human beings. It’s not power like those in authority. They cannot make any new laws. They cannot legally set one another free. They do not hold power given by authority of position or wealth. However, they do hold the power of participants in the Movement. It is the power that leans on the everlasting arms of a risen Christ.

Instead of giving into the vicious cycles of their context that leads to war, famine, greed, lust, and alienation, they are too lean on the everlasting arms of Christ by turning the other cheek. Peter does not any form glorify the suffering of his readers. He does not glorify their deaths. He speaks to another way.

How then do we apply this to our context? In the words of Indigo Montoya, “let me explain. No there is too much. Let me sum up.”

At 4:30 pm on February 1, 1960 four African American boys, dressed in suits and ties, sat down at the lunch counter at Woolworth's in Greensboro, NC, waiting to be served. Their order was never taken. They were denied first by a white waitress who reminded them, "We don't serve Negroes here" and then chastised by an African American girl, who helped with the steam table, "You're acting stupid, ignorant! That's why we can't get anywhere today. You know you're supposed to eat at the other end." The boys stayed seated (Wolf, Miles. Lunch at the 5 & 10 p.12).

These four college students began a movement that would sweep the South. They only hoped to do something local. They simply wanted to obtain service in a store which welcomed African Americans at all but one counter. They sat there.

The manager was instructed by the company to just let them sit there and not to say anything else to them. The belief was they'd get bored and leave. Ezell Blair Jr., Franklin McCain, Joseph McNeil, and David Richmond did not leave. The four men inspired a movement of sit-ins throughout the South in response to segregation laws that continued to alienate and exclude others because of their skin color.

The Greensboro sit-in exemplifies what Peter writes, “When abused, he did not return abuse; when suffered, he did not threaten; but he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly.” Those four young men were being refused the basic need of food because they were sitting at the wrong counter. They were being denied the right of life. Instead of passively suggesting, what Dietrich Bonhoeffer calls cheap grace, the kind of grace of which “people congratulate themselves that they are forgiven, without repenting; that God is on their side, without following the way of God as revealed in Jesus; that they are Christians, without it making much difference in their way of life (Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. Cost of Discipleship, p.40, 45ff).” The four men confront in the injustice through the nonviolent means of their presence. Their presence and the denying of food forces the other customers to come to terms with their own participation in segregation. They do not let Woolworth’s deny their humanity. They transform the suffering of their people.

Dr. King said it best: “What is needed is a realization that power without love is reckless and abusive, and love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.” The greatest example of this power is seen in the cross.

The cross is the nonviolent means Jesus uses to confront the injustice of nationalism, power, corruption, alienation, segregation, and does not allow space for one to remain as they were. Jesus nonviolently reclaims his power by going to the cross. It is a transformative initiative. Jesus does not accept the cross instead he transforms the cross. He engages in his own transformative practices within the Sermon on the Mount by turning the other cheek when he is nailed to the cross. He hangs there for all the spectators to gaze upon leading to the humbling of many in the crowd and the confession of a Roman captain.

The cross is God’s nonviolent response to our inhumane violence. As Jesus hangs there, we are confronted with the consequences of our actions and inactions. We see an innocent man dying before our eyes because we chose to participate in the violent vicious cycles of alienation and separation. We see an innocent man dying before our eyes because of our inactive responses to those vicious cycles. Jesus never glorifies his suffering and death.

The bible tells us that love is more powerful than death, stronger than the grave. The scriptures tell us love cannot be drowned by oceans or floods; it cannot be bought, no matter what is offered. It’s hard to believe such a thing as much as we’re surrounded by death and suffering. It’s hard to believe love is stronger than death. Death and suffering, in time, come for us all. Death does not discriminate. No matter your race. No matter your wealth. No matter you celebrity status. Death will find us and claim us. It’s just a matter of time. It feels like death has won.

Noah survived the flood, still he died. Looked like death had won. Isaiah prophesied of the lion and lamb lying down together, still he died. Looked like death had won. Peter walked on water, still he died. Paul survived shipwrecks, snake bites, imprisonment, still he died. John wrote of a new heaven and a new earth, still he died. We have seen scientist, actors, presidents, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews, children, and friends, come and bring great light to the world, still they died. And it feels like death has won. Still the bible kept saying love is stronger than death. Like two gladiators in a fight, every time they entered into the ring, it looked death had won.

As hard it is to believe, I hold onto my faith and I got up this morning to tell you that 2,000 years ago loved rolled into the ring and said, “Wait a minute, death. You’ve been bullying people for a long time but I want to set the record straight, love is greater than death.” Love rolled up his sleeves and they fought all over Jerusalem and wrestled all through the cross. The fight went down into the grave and death said, “See, I’ve done to you what I’ve done to all the others.” Death started having a party that Friday night. It was one of those weekend parties. It lasted all through Friday night and into Saturday. It looked like death had won. But early Sunday morning, love rolled up his sleeves and said, “Wait a minute death. Wait a minute.” Snatched death and took the victory out of the grave” (adapted from TD Jakes’ reflection at Whitney Houston’s funeral).

I look at that cross, covered in the stains of injustice and the blood of the innocent and I reminded that love is stronger than death. The cross is power correcting everything that stands against love. Death and suffering of the innocent stands against love. Let us show our empathy to their suffering. Let us work together to end their suffering. Let us show this world that death and suffering do not win.

Broken Bread and the Poured Out Self

In the summer of ’95, at youth camp in Falls Creek, Oklahoma, I had a vision. Every year at this camp, on the last full day of camp, they would hold a race. For years it had been about a mile and a half run but this particular summer they changed it to a 5k. Now, I was 15 and had won several races in middle school including running a 5:15 mile that year at the 8^th grade district track meet, but I never ran longer than 2 miles. The race began and off we went through the mountains of Southern Oklahoma.

At the second mile I felt a voice telling me I was to quit football and be a runner. Now, the voice startled me because I was raised in a proper Texas Christian household with a coach as a dad. I figured I must have heard wrong or wasn’t really hearing God, because God would not tell a Texas boy to quit football and run track. My dad concurred with me so I ignored the voice.

It worked out for the best that year as I was still growing into my body and my joints weren’t exactly adjusted and I couldn’t run without my body breaking down. So I played football like a good Texas boy until the following year. Then I rebelled, quit football, went straight cross-country and track, won that race at Falls Creek the next three summers in a row, went to college on a scholarship, and earned my degree. I learned rather quickly I followed the right vision even though it took me a year to give in.

The writer of the Gospel of John had a vision as well. His vision was the pouring out of God’s word over the people of Israel. The vision of John’s gospel is the breaking of bread and the pouring of God’s self in Jesus. John believed that the Word was in the beginning, was with God and is God. For John, the Word of God is not a book that sits on our bookshelves or tables collecting dust. The Word of God is the flesh and blood Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us. It’s not hard to believe then that Peter would believe the same thing, thus his vision in his letter is that of a people who are born anew, not of perishable seeds such as money, but of imperishable seed, through the living and enduring Word of God, Jesus.

Since we are currently exploring a vision for our church, I would like to share with you my personal vision, one that is the foundation of my ministry and I would like share a few stories.

A few years ago I sat in room with eleven others at a visioning retreat. It was to be the accumulation of 18 months of prayer and discernment for our church, and we were tasked with writing the future story of our church. As we sat in front of a blank whiteboard, I started to hear words that warmed my soul. I heard words such as “healing”, “wholeness”, “sanctuary”, words that held a great sense of meaning and redemption in them. Words that I thought would make the church into a great place for the hurting, the lost, the poor, the young, the old, the outcast, the broken, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the sick, the victim of abuse, the offenders, the addicts; people in need of reconciliation and God’s infinite, abiding love through Jesus.

It’s a lofty vision and I left that retreat with a great sense of hope. Finally, we had a vision that was going to be worth the pain it was going to take to make the vision a reality. A few weeks later, a letter was sent out blasting the vision and the future of the church. In the letter I could tell that all the hope I had felt just a few weeks before was not going to be for that church. I knew as soon as I read the letter my time was coming to an end because I couldn't go back. Since then that vision became my personal vision of ministry. It is the pouring out of the self of others so that they may come to know Jesus in fullness and made whole in every way.

You see, I believe with all my heart that the Gospel message is seen best by the pouring out of God’s people. We see the Gospel come to life through God pouring out, God with us, in Jesus. We see the Gospel come to life as Jesus pours out his spirit on his disciples. We see the Gospel come to life as Jesus pours out his compassionate healing and miracles. We see the Gospel come to life as Jesus breaks the bread and the pours the cup. We see the Gospel come to life as Jesus’ body is broken and his blood poured out. We see the Gospel come to life as Jesus dies upon the cross. We see the Gospel come to life as Jesus gets up early three days later and walks out of the tomb. We see the Gospel come to life as Jesus pours out his spirit onto Mary and Mary, comforting them and telling them to go and tell the others. We see the Gospel come to life as Jesus is recognized by his disciples when breaks the bread and feeds them. We see the Gospel come to life when he appears to Thomas and says, “See my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side.” The Gospel comes to life only when it is poured out for others.

The writer of 1^st Peter compels his audience to know they have snatched from their traditional, futile ways, not with perishable items like money and jewelry but they pouring out Christ himself. The writer compels his audience to know since they are now followers of Christ, they have been born anew. He remind us readers of Jesus telling Nicodemus that one must be born again. Peter holds to the belief that those who follow Jesus have been born of the Spirit, born from above. Those who follow Jesus are not born of this world but are children of the Movement, of the Kingdom. Those who follow Jesus are to pour themselves out so others may be filled with the hope, peace, joy, and love of Christ.

I was working on an article I had due for a class last March and I came across a story that made me think of what Peter is getting at.

Once upon a time, there was a priest named Malcolm who worked in a parish that developed a particular ministry to rehabilitate young offenders which included a furniture resource center, which took old furniture and restored it and made available to any in need. One of those offenders was a teenager named Paul. Paul was 15 years old with a history of misusing drugs. He supported his drug habit by breaking and entering homes and stealing valuables that he could pawn off. During his ministry, Malcolm came to know a woman named Kristel.

Kristel lived with her young daughter in a house down from the church. She too had a drug problem and financed by bringing men back to her house at night while her daughter was asleep. When Malcolm came to visit her, he discovered there was no furniture in the house, except a lone mattress. Everything else had been sold to pay her pimp. Malcolm thought she could benefit from the furniture resource center.

The day came when Paul and Malcolm filled the truck with tables, chairs, cupboards, chests of drawers, and wardrobes, along with toys, games, and books for the little girl. They arrived at Kristel's home and knocked. No answer. No Kristel and no little girl. Having no idea what happened to them or where they were, Paul had an idea. “Tell you what,” he said, “how about if we just take all the stuff in anyway—she'll get a surprise when she walks in!” It took Malcolm a little while to understand what Paul was suggesting. “You mean, break into the house?” but as soon as he said it, he recalled that a mere lock was no obstacle for Paul. In no time they were in the house, and the furniture was all off the truck, the toys all over the floor.

Then Kristel came home. She saw the opened door and ran into the house, shocked and terrified. She saw Malcolm and burst into tears. “I can explain--” he said but quickly realized that the tears of horror had turned to tears of joy. Her little girl had toys and books. She herself had comfortable chairs and a place to eat and talk and relax. Malcolm was thrilled to see her joy and then he saw Paul. Paul was crying too, but for a different reason. He'd never made someone happy before. He knew how to break into houses and knew that he had broken hearts and lives by doing so. Now he had broken into someone's house, into someone's life, and for the first time brought joy not tragedy, hope not despair. His new life had begun.” (Wells, Samuel. Improvisation p.148-149).

The purpose of the Christian life is not to exclude others from the table of Christ. The purpose is to make room for them at the table. Peter knows a thing or two or three about being excluded from the table of Christ. You may recall it was Peter who was the first disciple to confess Jesus as the messiah. He immediately followed it up by getting on to Jesus for talking about his upcoming death. You may recall it was Peter, sitting near Jesus, who said, “I will never leave you, even if others run away with their tales between their legs. I will never leave you.” You may recall Jesus saying, “Peter, I tell you the truth. Before the rooster crows, you will say you never knew me three times.” You may recall Peter gets angry and declares that he will never disown Jesus publically. You may recall Peter claims to not know who Jesus is three times before the rooster crowed.

You may not recall the humiliation and hurt Peter felt inside knowing he did exactly what Jesus said he would do. Peter must have felt like Judas. The pain setting in as he realizes he has sinned against his Lord, against his friend. While Judas was overcome by his guilt that he could no longer believe in God’s mercy, and hung himself, Peter returns to the Lord with mourning. You then may recall Peter ran to the tomb, being the first to step inside and find it empty. You may recall Peter swimming to shore when he discovers Jesus waiting for him with a fire and breakfast. You may recall Jesus asking Peter, “Do you love me? Feed my sheep” three times as the sun came up. You may recall that tradition says as Roman soldiers under the order of Emperor Nero nailed Peter to a cross, he told them he was unworthy to die in the same manner as his Lord. The soldiers turn his cross upside down. You may recall that tradition says it took Peter three days to die.

St. Laurence was a deacon of the church in Rome in the third century, during the persecution of the Christians by Emperor Decius. The Roman magistrate ordered Laurence to bring into the church all its riches. Instead of resisting violently or falling victim to the vicious cycles of alienation, Laurence turns the other cheek by asking for three days to consider what the riches of the church were. On the third day, Laurence invited the magistrate back to the church. As the magistrate walked in he was not treated to mountains of gold and silver, but to a sanctuary filled the poor, the lame, the orphans, the widows, and said, “These are the riches of the Church” (Wells, p.146-147).

Peter, St. Laurence, Paul, and others in our past, and our present understood, first hand, the purpose the Church. It was not to exclude others from membership or exclude others from his table. The purpose of the Church to was go out to the ends of the earth and bring people, from all over, to Christ’s table. The purpose of the Church is to feed a broken world. What feeds a broken world? Exactly what Jesus feed those around him, broken bread and a poured out self.