First Things First-Finding Your Mission in Life Preached 10/17/2010

Scripture: Mark 12:28-34 (Today's New International Version)
One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"
"The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.' The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these."
"Well said, teacher," the man replied. "You are right in saying that God is one and there is no other but him. To love him with all your heart, with all your understanding and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices."
When Jesus saw that he had answered wisely, he said to him, "You are not far from the kingdom of God." And from then on no one dared ask him any more questions.

“Shema Israel!” This is the beginning of the most important Jewish proclamation in scripture. Our devout Jewish friends remind themselves many times each day—every time they pass a Mezuzah (that small holder of these words and the Torah attached to the doors of their houses). If you look by the door to this temple, you will find just such a mezuzah. At one point in my upstate New York journey, I lived right smack in the middle of the Borscht Belt—an area marked with a conglomeration of resorts, camps, and little villages populated every summer by the Jewish families who fled New York City for the peacefulness of the foothills of the NY mountains. By the time I lived there, many of these resorts had fallen on bad times. Mostly they were used for training events and conferences. I remember attending one of these events and walking up and down the halls amazed at the wonderful variety and beauty of these mezuzahs on each door. It was impossible to go in the door to your room without noticing…what a beautiful reminder of our never-changing need to declare who our God is. “ Hear, O Israel: The LORD is our God, the LORD alone. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might. Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart.” Jesus knew this commandment well—he was one of the Jewish children who had learned it over time, in the temple, in His home, in the very streets and roads of the lands that he walked as He grew up. And so, when He is asked which commandment is the greatest, Jesus answered, "The first is, 'Hear, O Israel”. Jesus doesn’t stop there, however, He continues: “The second is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these."
In its Old Testament setting, the command to love God with all your heart, soul, and strength was accompanied by a promise—the promise of long and good lives. In the second instance, there is no such promise attached because Jesus IS the promise—these words are spoken directly to us, the direct heirs of the Old Testament promise made manifest in Jesus Himself. No more need for promises, the promise has arrived.
And Jesus, the embodiment of this promise, shows us again in this second commandment what really matters in His ministry—love and inclusivity. Now we know that most of the time our traditional outreach tends to bring in more folks that look “just like us”. But Jesus calls us to do more. Churches who respond to this call have developed a practice referred to as “radical hospitality”. Reaching beyond those usually sought for church activities, these churches seek people who otherwise would never come in touch with any faith tradition at all. We know that Jesus modeled this for us in His own ministry—a ministry to the most outcast of the earth. How does this fit with these words of Jesus?
Like it or not, Jesus had a way of putting things in context. The first commandment serves as the backdrop to the second. The second commandment which, according to Jesus, is “like the first” is to “love your neighbor as yourself”. Understanding that we find it difficult to understand how to love God and Jesus gives us the answer before we even formulate the question. We love God by loving our neighbor as ourselves. Oh good, we can all go home now…Not so fast…do we even begin to know what that means?
There is an interesting poem entitled “Outwitted” by Edwin Markham written in the early 20th Century. I believe that a few lines may speak to our dilemma here.
He drew a circle that shut me out—…
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in!
What would it look like if every time someone drew a circle that shut us out of their lives, we lovingly drew a circle that enlarged our view and priorities and re-included the very ones who shut us out? I suspect that most of the time when people draw us as individuals or community out of their circles, it is because we have missed what is most important to them to have IN their circles. When we fail to love others or express our love in ways that they cannot hear, we must acknowledge our need to learn to love anew. Mahatma Gandhi challenged us as we think about living the love of God in the world when he said: “There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.” Am I able to accept that for those fundamentally hungry people, that nothing I have to offer them EXCEPT BREAD will do? This is uncommon compassion—granting the priority to the other’s need and setting out to enlarge the circle of what I have to offer to ensure that I can meet the other’s need. This is the love of God, lived in the world—allowing my neighbor to tell me what my ministry and lifework needs to be.
As we enlarge this circle, as we learn to love differently, placing the neighbor’s need as crucial to who we are. And this is, of course, hard—Hear Marge Piercy’s words:
Learning to love differently is hard,
Love with the hands wide open,
Love with the doors banging on their hinges,
The cupboard unlocked…
How do we unlock the cupboards of our hearts and, more importantly, our priorities when it comes to loving our neighbors as ourselves. Uncommon compassion challenges us to redefine who are neighbors are. Uncommon compassion leads us to question how it is that we love? How do we include others in our circle? When Terri and I first started living together (my apologies up front to her for telling this story), I set out to learn those things about her that I would need to know in order to live together well. First of all, I discovered that she is very easy to live with and almost nothing bothers her. However, I also learned that she is, what I thought to be, unusually invested in the state and status of the toothpaste tube; that is, one must always flatten out the tube so that it is ready for the next use. Now I will admit that I was just a teeny bit less committed to that practice than she was. One day, while she was lovingly and quite humorously, I thought, engaging me in yet another conversation about the toothpaste, just to mess with her, I inquired, “Why is it that we can’t compromise on this?” She replied, “We can compromise, you can have your own tube!” It has, of course, become one of “the stories” that we laugh about as it defines who we are in our relationship.
However, while such a story can be funny, the principle of compromise by “each person doing their own thing” is not quite so humorous when applied to the really important things in life and, more importantly, in church. But we do it all the time! Entire denominations and movements were founded on that very principle! I know that I engage in this kind of “get your own toothpaste” thinking when I resist change, when I resist losing those things about our services and ministries that are comfortable for me. I know that I run into others’ “get your own toothpaste” thinking when I suggest change or look for ways to make some of what we do more inviting to those who do not currently feel welcome.
Jesus, on the other hand, would agree with Ghandi, who I quoted a few moments ago. Can we as individuals and as a church, discover what each person is hungry for and appear to them as God? If it is bread, we become filling bread. If it is acceptance, we become unconditional acceptance. If it is belonging, we become a welcoming belonging. Uncommon compassion defined as love and concern that generates acts of welcome and invitation that exceeds what we commonly hold as acceptable will push us as individuals and as a church to experience the radical hospitality that God extends to us and will enable us to open wide the doors of our hearts, souls, and sanctuary to draw a circle around the very persons who shut us out. And so, together we draw our circle larger and larger until every child of God feels welcome in our lives, in our hearts, and in our church.
Amen and Amen.