Sermon by Susan N. Eaves for Sixth Sunday of Pentecost, July 6, 2008

Jesus said to the crowd, "To what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,

`We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;

we wailed, and you did not mourn.'

"To what will I compare this generation?" Jesus is seriously ticked off. You can just hear the frustration in his words. "For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, `He has a demon'; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, `Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!" In other words, "You people are never satisfied." In fact, this gospel omits the section in the story where Jesus loses it entirely and goes after the people of the towns in which he has preached the gospel and done great deeds. He is angered by their indifference, their lack of response, their ignoring of the good news. "No matter what I do," he says, "you ignore or reject it. Do you not realize how urgent this is? Do you not understand that it is God who is speaking in me? Do you not care that God is demanding better from you?"

Jesus is faced with crowds of people who do nothing but listen and criticize - no matter the starting point. Hence, "For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, `He has a demon'; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, `Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!" It is the all too familiar, "I'm dammed if I do and I'm dammed if I don't" scenario - perhaps the most frustrating of all human experiences. It is the sense that no matter how sincere, how important, how urgent, or how right the content of what I am saying or doing, I am dammed by the mindset that reduces those same words and actions to ashes. How is that accomplished? By always finding something to criticize, judge, or deny.

It's a very clever technique if you stop to think about it. It actually prevents anything being accomplished. For to introduce an element of suspicion, of doubt, is to paralyze the whole process. And here we are this morning with the Son of God unable to budge the crowd an inch. This was most likely the very problem that led eventually to his crucifixion. It was easier to bring about his death than to respond to the changes he envisioned for the world.

We are not unfamiliar with this kind of response in large ways and small. We who have assassinated two presidents, one presidential candidate, and the major leader of the civil rights movement in one century alone should know something of the power of humanity to silence the unpalatable. And it doesn't stop there. We see our government paralyzed by exactly the same pursuit of personal agendas and desire for the upper hand at all costs. We are so used to lies, deceit, and manipulation in the political arena we have come to distrust what we hear and what we read. And in our churches, where mainline denominations are losing ground as they refuse to ask what would Jesus have us do, but only want to have the church be "as we like it", we attempt to suppress the Spirit working among us for God's kingdom. And the result is paralysis - little if anything is accomplished, little if anything is changed.

On the personal front we are so often overcome by the petty frustrations of life, daily injustices, and the difficulties of relationships that it easy to feel defeated. "Life is not fair," whispers the devil in our ear. We want our freedoms but we are disappointed in ourselves too often to be good for us. We want to love but we drift towards indifference. We know we should forgive but we don't feel that generous. We know the other person's views count but we want to follow our own. We desire God but there are just too many distractions.

Our spiritual journey too often becomes a crash course in the limits of self-sufficiency. It's easier to keep our distance, to find fault, to deny, and to judge. And the result is paralysis - little if anything is accomplished, little if anything is changed.

So, if things are fundamentally the same as when Jesus was around is all this worth it? I mean, why bother? What's the point of us coming to church, of singing these hymns, hearing this scripture, receiving the body and blood? Why not just sit home on this holiday weekend, watch Wimbledon, and read the newspaper? If, as Paul acknowledges, "For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do." why not give up now?

Because the truth is that God doesn't give up. No matter how weak our faith or the depth of our despair, God is there. No matter the dilemmas, no matter the problem, God is there to carry it with us. No matter the blessing, no matter the size of the achievement God is there to make it real. No matter our failure, God is ready to raise us up to life. And that is what changes the world - not us. "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest. 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. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

What God is asking you and asking me is simply to co-operate, to try, to respond, and God will do the rest. And that isn't necessarily a dramatic thing, though it might be, but it will be something for the good. God will take it and multiply it and bless it. We see that blessing all around us if we are prepared to stop criticizing and start seeking it out. The world is filled with transforming moments if we will stop judging and begin seeing. This church is a place of miracles when we stop resisting and start embracing.

On the home page of the Today Show on Thursday, amidst the headliners "Sex. Lies, and Hush Money," "Condoms for climate change?" "For a patriotic toast raise a glass of sangria," hidden away in a section called "inspirational athletes" is the story of Macharia Yuot, one of the lost boys of Sudan. At the age of nine he began the walk through the desert while seeing half the twenty-five thousand children around him die in their tracks. But still he walked. He lived in grim refugee camp until he was finally sponsored by an American couple and brought to the United States. They proudly tell of his incredible accomplishments in cross county running (the same skill that had led him to escape death) and how now, as an American citizen, he wants to compete in the Olympics. Little could they have imagined the outcome of a simple act of kindness and, perhaps even more amazingly, the discovery that his mother and siblings are not dead but still alive? There was not, of course, a dry eye in the house as they showed footage of his reunion with his long lost family.

Jesus may be frustrated, but he is frustrated because the good is out there waiting for us to claim it. We just have to want God to open our hearts and let the blessing happen. God is happening all the time inside and outside the church. It is God's world and God moves freely about among us making all things new.

Today, fourteen years after the beginning of his ordeal, Yuot does not complain about another practice lap around the track. He does not complain about lungs that burn or about feet that blister as he trains. He does not complain about the bus rides to a job at a senior citizen's group home, where he helps feed the residents, or about the late-night returns to campus. He doesn't complain because these bus rides, these races have an ending. Fourteen years ago, the walking seemed to go on forever. Now there is life, the burdens are light, the yoke easy. In that there is rest for the soul.

Amen.