As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty, or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but rather on God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.
Apostles, this is us. How does that sentence sound?
Do you know that apostles means the sent ones?
Apostles – sent ones – it is us who are the rich in this present age – and what are we doing with that richness? And what richness – as apostles – again, as ones who are sent – do we seek? And, yet again, as sent ones, what does it mean for us to find joy in the things we have? And as we have so much, will we yet find more joy in the things we give?
This is us Apostles. And today, as Apostles, I want to invite you to indeed, put your hope in something bigger and better than the riches of the world that surround us – and to give yourselves to good works – to become rich in them – to enjoy them more than all else. And why can we do this? Because our hope isn’t in our riches – whether they are the riches of the world or the richness of good deeds – our hope is in God – not a God who gives us what we need to scrape by or who wants to use us to bring about his Kingdom – or who gives us things only to ask for them back. 1 Timothy tells us that this God in whom our hope is is the God who provides richly for our enjoyment – not for our refinement – for our enjoyment! And it is a blessing that God is quick to supply us with the true riches of true life – the opportunities to give with joy and see God’s Kingdom.
So, with that, I’d like to tell you a bit about my time in Rwanda. And, it’s a lot like the Gospel story.
It begins a lot like the Gospel – amid darkness and human sinfulness and, like the day we strangely though accurately call “Good Friday,” it begins in utter death and despair. I want to Rwanda hoping that God didn’t exist but suspecting that God did and was not the good-willed, loving God our scriptures describe. God had not protected me in crucial times in my story. God is not protecting Africa – not protecting orphans, widows, and those vulnerable people affected by AIDS. I was done with God.
Then, on my first day in Rwanda, I went to the genocide memorial in Kigali. I went there after 33 hours of traveling. I was exhausted and so had no defenses left as we toured the scenes of death. The worst was a children’s wing. It had stories and pictures of children killed in the genocide. On one wall there were snap shots of hundreds of children killed in the genocide. The pictures were fading and I knew that, the moment that child’s face disappeared off of the photo paper into a small see of dusty yellow, their memory – every mark they had in the world – all evidence of whatever of God’s image was delicately encoded in that child – would be gone from the memory of the world. Have you ever tried not cry when everything in you is falling apart – when it feels as though evil has set of an atomic bomb in your heart? You begin to choke and then make inhuman sounds before the well of tears and shakey breathing, and trembling lips and desperate, desperate cries explode out of you. I found myself amid this explosion on my first day in a foreign country and my first day with a mission team I had warranted distrust of. Just as those children were vulnerable, I was vulnerable and quite near to what I thought was spiritual death – to utter disbelief in a God of love. And then, and then he spoke. A man on my missions team made fun of me for crying.
That was it. God protected no one. God loved to see his people break and be murdered by their friends and neighbors. I was done. And I was broken. And I hated hope and was over-joyed to see it decimated. Now, without hope, I was free to move on numbly though life – or I would be free for that once I got done grieving this last attack.
This was Good Friday and Jesus was in the tomb. I wanted to just give into taking all my joy from the things I have and forgetting the giving part because I could only do so much and clearly Jesus wasn’t there to do his part. I wonder if the disciples felt this way on Good Friday – “Man, we never should have abandoned our nets – they take years to make. How do I return to being a fisherman? Why did I ever leave? I’m such a fool – but I can’t go back – so what? What do I do?”
Then, when you least expect it, there is something crazy called resurrection – and it always comes in the ashes – in despair – in the wake of submitting yourself to utter grief and painful giving-up.
So I went about my time in Rwanda – and at every turn – everywhere we went, I heard an unbelievable story of reconciliation, or how God protected someone, or how God has brought rape victims together so that they can love each other back to wholeness, or simply how hope has not died and grass roots movements are empowering the powerless and loving the unloved. There was even one time when I felt God protecting my weary shattered heart when, while speaking at a marriage conference – don’t ask. I still don’t know how it happened – I’m single! – I had an awkwardly long standing ovation from people who previously wouldn’t listen to me because I was a single woman. In the middle of my raw grief – I looked around at what should be one of the most grief-stricken lands and found one of the most hopeful places – because they too had seen Good Friday and were in the midst of Resurrection Sunday. And I too found myself in the midst of resurrection.
And then, in response to this resurrection – I found that hope – hope in the God who gives richly for my enjoyment. I found myself praying with a woman imminently dying of AIDS, dancing with prisoners who have committed genocide, playing with disable AIDS orphans – and – while it was sad and hard – I found greater joy than I had ever known in these things.
And, here’s my favorite story – there was this one kid in the poorest and least respected part of Rwanda. He was filthy and – truthfully – a really mean kid. At probably 2, he was running around with a sling shot shooting all the other kids – who would faithfully break his sling shot and I, the stupid American who couldn’t bare to see the toddler cry, would fix it and so on until it was beyond repair. He cried and cried and cried. I got down on my knees next to him. As the mud bonded with my legs, it was apparent that the other kids were not ok with the white woman getting dirty – but I didn’t care. I rubbed his dirty back and said, “It’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” But he was inconsolable. So, I decided to pick him up. As I lifted him and rested him on my arm, we both looked into each other’s eyes – he was unsure because I was holding him. I was unsure because I quickly realized that he should be wearing a diaper but was not. But then, we both began to smile and giggle. This was, I am convinced, the richest moment in my life.
The God of hope has given me riches for my enjoyment. The God of hope loves to give us riches for our enjoyment!
Let me close with a poem from my brother Jake Tucker. There are three well-placed cuss words in it so – know that they are coming. But as I said, they are well-placed.
bull shit
by jake tucker
On a Sunday morning in earliy may
The Rhodendrons are blooming
and every bird is singing
as I walk the three blocks
from my house to Church
I have a view
it's panaramic
Bellingham bay, San Juan Islands and Cascade mountains
I can see straight on into Canada
I sit in a pew as light filters in through stained glass
I sing to God
At the podium someone is telling us about orphans
In Uganda, with no food,
no shelter,
no money
Asking if we could help
lend our support,
money or prayer
It's moving
On my way out
I walk past their booth
Look straight into the big eyes of a Young Black Boy in a picture
And keep walking
Go Home
Order some Little Ceasars
Scripture states that the only religion which God accepts
Is taking care of orphans and widows in their distress
If that's the case
than it is time to quote REM
Because that is me in the corner
But this isn't in the spotlight
in shadows and crowds
I'm performing my magic tricks
Apathy is my magic wand,
I'm pulling a rabbit out of my hat,
Turning reality into fantasy
Orphans turn into science fiction
People turn into statistics
something far away
something that can be ignored
like a parking ticket or library fine
people lose their humanity
In Christian theology we have a term for this
Bull Shit!
It's a shift in focus
From changing to waiting
Christ taught us to pray
"Thy Kingdom come"
Instead of bringing it
I wait for it to come
In lethargy I have great patience
Heaven is supposed to come down
Descend to earth
Heaven is not someplace far away
Someplace to go when we die
Heaven is near,
it is knocking
It is availible
NOW
It will start to come in me
When I get off my ass
Fill out the damn card
send a fraction of my paycheck to buy vaccinations and education
For someone who wasn't born on the right continent
With the right color of skin
Heaven will come
When I see people as what they are
Art
Created in the image of God
Each made with divinity dripping from every pour
Each the pinnacle of creation
Each made with more care
detail, attention,
and love
Than I can fathom
Each one the Creator took a step back from
To get a better look
Decided
With tears welling up
from the bottom of him
That it was good
it was very good
Heaven will come when every tear is dried from tired eyes
When every head is lifted
When pain and mourning cease
When hope dawns
When love finally conquers
once and for all
So, lord haste the day
when my faith shall be sight
the clouds be rolled back as a scoll
the trump shall resound
The lord descend
and the Dancers will dance upon injustice
So, Apostles, with that, I invite you to put your hope in the God who gives richly and to become rich: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, to pray with AIDS victims, and dance with prisoners – and even to pick up the urine-covered kid. Get dirty for the sake of the Gospel– because it is there that you will find that the Gospel is indeed true and that God longs to richly give to you for your enjoyment!
Now, it is time for something we call open space. This is a chance to explore how the texts and the “reverb” are reverberating in you. Today, we are packing up. As many of you know, we are making a pilgrimage down to Fremont Baptist church for a couple of months as this space is being renovated. So the liturgy guild thought it would be a good idea to pack up. There are two suitcases here. One is for things that we have and one in for things that we give. We invite you to come up and write down the things that you have – and take joy in them – offer praise to God for these as you put them in the suitcase. Also, write down what you give – and take joy in this – offer praises for these things – and put them in the other suitcase. Of course, as always, there are also the prayers of the people station and the all angels’ station.
Please enjoy this time.
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