Sermon Proper 11, Year B
Scripture  
Minister Wendy Billingslea
Location St. Andrew's Greensboro
Date July 23, 2006

 

Reading through the scripture passages appointed for today, a sentence leapt out at me.  It comes from the reading from Ephesians – an excerpt from Paul’s letter that we heard in the middle, between the Old Testament reading from Isaiah and the gospel reading from Mark.  The sentence that leapt out in the reading goes, “For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility, between us.”  What really jumped out at me, reflecting on this week’s disastrous news from Lebanon and Israel, were the words “dividing wall.”

There are so many dividing walls in our world right now – some political, some economic, and some religious.  Watch any news broadcast at any hour of the day; read any newspaper in any part of the world, or surf the Internet at home or abroad and the reality of “dividing walls” is more than apparent. 

Around the world and particularly, again, in the Mideast we come up against the dividing walls between Islam, Christianity, and Judaism.  In our own country, we come up against the dividing walls between the haves and the have-nots, Republicans and Democrats, mainline Christians and fundamentalist Christians, American citizens and illegal immigrants, CEO’s and labor unions, and on and on.  Even in our own denomination as Episcopalians, we have an increasingly impenetrable dividing wall between liberal and conservative views of everything from the authority of scripture to views on gender and sexuality.

And all this anger, hostility and division in the face of a scripture passage that says of Christ: “For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility, between us.”  Paul was speaking, in the first century (the time this letter was written), of the immense dividing wall between Jews and Gentiles.  As you remember, according to the Bible, Jews were God’s chosen people, and Gentiles were understood as “everybody else.”  If we’d lived in the 1st century, we would have been Gentiles.  From the Jewish point of view, they would have been the citizens and everybody else (including us) would have been aliens or illegal immigrants.  That’s one way, anyway, to try and understand how strong the animosity was – how strong the dividing wall between Jews and Gentiles.

But again, the passage says, “For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility, between us.”  Paul is trying his very best to tell us that Jesus knocked down the wall of division between Jews and Gentiles.  Jesus was the first and greatest bridge builder between Jews and Gentiles, and our own heritage as Christians, all these centuries later, is the result.
If Jesus is the great bridge-builder, the peacemaker urging us to knock down the walls of hostility between us, then how can we be wrestling with so many walls of division still between us?  It’s a good question.  Quite honestly, we’re not the first generation to ask it.  In every generation since the time of Christ, the human inclination to build walls instead of bridges has resulted in human calamities of all kinds.

“For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility, between us.”  The walls of hostility, as we all know, aren’t limited to things going on in the world; sometimes the strongest walls of all are between individuals.  Sometimes the strongest walls of hostility are between us and other members of our families; between us and other church members; between us and our co-workers. 

And so I wonder, maybe, if the greatest wall of hostility is actually within ourselves; right in our own hearts.  I know there is not a day that goes by for me when I don’t have to ask God to forgive me my trespasses – the ways in which I build walls instead of bridges – the ways in which my sins stifle the call I am given to love my neighbor as myself – the ways in which I make a stand over and against someone else.

It’s pretty easy to blame the wall of hostility on forces beyond ourselves – on foreign policy, on fundamentalist religious views, on unfair labor practices, and the like – it’s a lot harder to look within ourselves to see where we may be part of the problem rather than part of the solution.  It’s a lot harder to look within ourselves to see where our views, our outlook, and our opinions may be creating a wall of hostility between us and someone else.

That may be why Jesus in the gospel reading calls the disciples to head off by themselves for a little while for a period of rest and renewal.  When we’re actively involved and engaged in the world – worrying about not just the state of the union but the state of the world – when we’re up to our necks in problems and disagreements; in conflicts and confusion; in work and ministry and service – it is not hard at all to lose sight of what is going on in our very own hearts and souls.

Even Jesus had to get away once in a while to reconnect with God’s purpose and plan.  Even Jesus had to get away once in a while to examine his heart and soul and submit to God’s cleansing and healing power to ensure he was on the right track.  Without the clarity and clearness that comes from time away, it’s far too easy to take sides; building and strengthening those walls of hostility that keep us angry. 

We can’t stay out in the middle of the fray all the time.  We lose our perspective, we build walls instead of bridges, and we endanger our God-given mission and role as peacemakers and reconcilers.  Jesus calls the disciples away to a deserted place to help them get their hearts and minds put back together in one piece. 

One of the ways Jesus calls us to get away to a deserted place; offering us a place to get our hearts and minds put back together in one piece is right here in church on Sunday mornings.  This place may not seem very deserted, but it is certainly meant to be time away – time for Sabbath and re-creation – time to reconnect with the Prince of Peace – time to reconnect with our better selves – the image of God within us.

In peace, we pray to you, Lord God.  When we pray the Prayers of the People, as we will in just a moment or two – we will be praying that all walls of hostility be torn down.  We will be praying for peace and unity among nations, and within the communion of Christians around the world.  We will pray for hostility to cease between Jews, Muslims, Christians, and all other religions.  We will pray for all the people of the world, for the American people, for Episcopalians in the United States, and for our own community of St. Andrew’s.  We will pray for everybody who has died – our family members, our friends, as well as the Palestinians and Jews, Iraqis and Americans who have all died in battle this week. 

“Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile,” Jesus says to the disciples and to us.  Remember who you are and Whose you are.  Remember you are the Beloved of God.  Remember you belong to Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace.  Remember you are called to reconcile the world in the name of Christ.  Remember that you are called to love your neighbor as yourself.  Remember…that you are the peace-makers.   “For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility, between us.”  Remember that.

Amen.