OPEN HEARTS, OPEN DOORS

Sermon for May 9, 2010

Scripture: Acts 16:9-15; John 14:23-29

“Do not let your hearts be troubled; do not let them be afraid.” These words of Jesus, part of his goodbye to his dear friends before he was arrested, are still potent words for us today.

Our hearts are often troubled over tragedies like the death of the bicyclist who didn't survive an encounter with a City truck, and closer to home, the death of one UVa student athlete at the hands of another. That wasn't just troubling, it was heartbreaking news. Unfortunately, fearfulness is a part of life, when anything we hold dear is threatened. We can be anxious about terrorism, war, crime, accidents and random violence; change and loss of all kinds. Sometimes we are troubled for no reason at all—I've been known to worry about possibilities far in the future…

Jesus spoke these words originally to his students and life companions, many of whom had left all they had to follow him on the Way—homes, families, and livelihoods—and now he was leaving too. Of course their hearts were troubled!

On top of that, they were living at a time of great fear—the Romans ground Palestine under foot, and anyone suspected of insurrection was cruelly executed. And yet Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled; do not let them be afraid. My peace I give to you; my peace I leave with you.” How can we keep from being fearful?

Let's turn to the reading from Acts, the story of Lydia . Lydia was the first European convert to Christianity, and Paul's first Gentile convert. She was a businesswoman, a seller of purple dyes and fabrics. Historically, purple is a symbol of wealth, luxury and opulence; it is often worn by royalty, and coincidentally, it is Sojourners' color!

in the ancient world, purple dyes were very expensive and hard to come by. The color came from a small snail called a murex that washed up on the beach. Thousands of snails and a very smelly process only produced an ounce of dye.

Lydia was very independent for her day. The fact that her name is mentioned at all, in scriptures full of anonymous women, indicates her importance. Of course she was a woman in a man's world, doing business in the Roman Empire . We learn later that she is the head of a household, so she was probably a widow and person of wealth.

Paul meets Lydia on the river bank outside the city of Philippi , a Roman colony in what is now Greece . It is the Sabbath, and Paul wants to worship God and teach about Jesus. He always tried to preach in synagogues if he could. But this time, he seeks out a gathering of women on the riverbank, a place of prayer he had heard about. We don't know why they gathered on the river, women together on a spiritual quest. Perhaps there was no synagogue because the Jewish population of Philippi was too small. I don't know if they lived in a locality and time in which there was much persecution so that they needed to hide. Perhaps they simply wanted the freedom that comes with having their own worship group, with leaders of their choice and the ability to worship God in their own way—somewhat like Sojourners!

At any rate, Paul is welcomed as a guest, and Lydia listens to what he has to say. As the author of Acts describes it, God opens her heart so that she listens eagerly to Paul's preaching. It's a curious expression throughout the Bible—God opening hearts and conversely, God hardening hearts. It's seems almost as if we have nothing to do with it. What a “good” excuse! If we are stubborn, racist, close-minded, sexist, or homophobic we can just say, “Sorry! God hasn't opened my heart yet. Not my fault!”

Perhaps the idea of God meddling with our hearts seems scary, as if God is doing it against our will. Do you remember Psalm 139, which tells us that no matter where we go, or where we wind up, God is always there with us? This is also the theme of Margaret Wise Brown's The Runaway Bunny that I read to the children. 139 is my favorite psalm, but not everyone likes that feeling of an ever-present God. Francis Thompson, an English poet of the late 19 th -early 20 th century found it very frightening, and wrote a poem describing God as “The Hound of Heaven,” a takeoff on the “hounds of hell.”

Thompson, who struggled with an opium addiction, writes about years of anxious flight from God, and God's relentless pursuit; he describes his heart as “a broken fount.” He writes:

“I pleaded, outlaw-wise,
By many a hearted casement, curtained red, Trellised with intertwining charities;

(For, though I knew His love Who followed,

Yet was I sore adread
Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside)
But, if one little casement parted wide, The gust of His approach would clash it to.”

In other words, a tiny window in his heart that he bravely opened would blow shut as a result of the overwhelming presence of God.

At the end of the poem, he gives up, worn out, and takes God's loving hand. In the process, he discovers that the darkness he thought he was burdened with throughout life was only the shadow cast by God's outstretched hand!

I think that God is always gently at work, seeking admission to our hearts in loving, peaceful ways, not forcefully. Jesus says: “Behold! I stand at the door and knock!” Sometimes we let him in; perhaps more often we bar the door. We fear the loss of our autonomy; perhaps even our bad habits that are so enjoyable! We may worry, as Francis Thompson did, that if we let God in, we will have nothing else left of ourselves and our preoccupations.

I believe that if we want it, God will open our hearts with God's very being. As it says elsewhere in the Gospel of John, “those who love me will keep my word, and my Father-Mother will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.”

To me, this presence of God in our hearts is the secret of not being anxious and fearful; it is not a cause of anxiety or fear. How about you?

We don't know Lydia 's feelings about God's heart work on her. We do know that she goes on to share her faith with her household, and then she opens her home to Paul and his party. Her opened heart leads her to open her home and her life as well.

The openness and freedom of personal hospitality is a gift from God, and a significant part of the Christian journery. Hospitality requires that we trust others enough to allow them to come into our lives. We make ourselves vulnerable, and others are vulnerable to us, when we share our time and our property in this way.

Of course hospitality has been at the core of the Christian church for millenia. As God has welcomed us, so we are called to share that embrace with other people who are seeking God….

Millie gave me one of your bumper stickers that says “Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors.” (Too bad the Methodists stole that one!)

It's hard to be welcoming sometimes, isn't it. We are often so much more comfortable around people who are like ourselves, particularly in class, educational level and politics. I constantly used to remind a previous church, which was very liberal, that being an open church not only meant welcoming multicultural intenerational and GLBT folk, which they were great at, but Republicans as well!

The United Church of Christ likes to celebrate its extravagant welcome to all. The slogan goes, “No matter who you are, no matter what, no matte where you are on life's journey, you are invited and welcome.” But as one of you pointed out to me the other day, the earlier God is Still Speaking commercials were somewhat dismissive of other denominations. Is the UCC truly an open church, then, if it only welcomes those who think alike?

And how about Sojourners? This interim period is our time to study together, to find out who you are at this time in your history, and look forward to who you will become. What will be the bumper sticker of the future? Do you still claim open hearts, open minds and open doors as a slogan that describes you, or would a new one be better? And if you claim it, do you still live it? (One of an interim minister's main jobs is to hold up a mirror, to help you discover whether your self-image fits your reality). Are you truly open to new people, new ideas, and new ways of worship? Most of us would say so, but I have to tell you, in my first days here, I moved the books on the shelf of the lectern to put my water glass there—and no less than three Sojourners, on three separate occasions, moved them back, some with the words—“this is where the books go…”

True openness can be hard to come by because it involves so much risk. Life is hard; there's no getting around it; and we need church as a place to be restored, so that we can go back out into the world rejuvenated. It's much easier to be restored if things are just the way we like them, the way they've always been. Soothing, in fact. Restful. Predictable.

But our God is not predictable. We worship a God of change, of new beginnings. God is sometimes restful and soothing, but more often provocative and challenging. God can be a nudge! Arnetta Jones in the Catonsville office, one of the people who keeps the Conference running smoothly, has this saying on the bottom of her e-mail:

“God whispers in your soul and speaks to your mind.  Sometimes when you don't have time to listen, God has to throw a brick at you. It's your choice: Listen to the whisper, or wait for the brick.”

If we have allowed God to open our hearts, then our minds will also be open to new ideas, and new ways of doing things. If our hearts are open, we will experience peace—not as the world gives, not as a soothing, womblike, numbness, but a deep sense of peace at the core, a feeling that no matter what happens, no matter where we go, God is with us.

A closed heart, on the other hand, is a fearful, troubled heart. A closed heart keeps everything the same, holding fearfully on to the past; not taking risks; not even experiencing the present fully, much less moving into the future.

Lydia took risks. She knew the prejudice that falls on a woman alone in a man's world. But instead of shutting herself away fearfully, she opened herself to new opportunities both business and spiritual. She opened her heart to God and her home to people who were not like her, and helped found a new church in her place and time.

May we be more like her! Thanks be to God!

you, or would a new one be better? And if you claim it, do you still live it? (One of an interim minister's main jobs is to hold up a mirror, to help you discover whether your self-image fits your reality). Are you truly open to new people, new ideas, and new ways of worship? Most of us would say so, but I have to tell you, in my first days here, I moved the books on the shelf of the lectern to put my water glass there—and no less than three Sojourners, on three separate occasions, moved them back, some with the words—“this is where the books go…”

True openness can be hard to come by because it involves so much risk. Life is hard; there's no getting around it; and we need church as a place to be restored, so that we can go back out into the world rejuvenated. It's much easier to be restored if things are just the way we like them, the way they've always been. Soothing, in fact. Restful. Predictable.

But our God is not predictable. We worship a God of change, of new beginnings. God is sometimes restful and soothing, but more often provocative and challenging. God can be a nudge! Arnetta Jones in the Catonsville office, one of the people who keeps the Conference running smoothly, has this saying on the bottom of her e-mail:

“God whispers in your soul and speaks to your mind.  Sometimes when you don't have time to listen, God has to throw a brick at you. It's your choice: Listen to the whisper, or wait for the brick.”

If we have allowed God to open our hearts, then our minds will also be open to new ideas, and new ways of doing things. If our hearts are open, we will experience peace—not as the world gives, not as a soothing, womblike, numbness, but a deep sense of peace at the core, a feeling that no matter what happens, no matter where we go, God is with us.

A closed heart, on the other hand, is a fearful, troubled heart. A closed heart keeps everything the same, holding fearfully on to the past; not taking risks; not even experiencing the present fully, much less moving into the future.

Lydia took risks. She knew the prejudice that falls on a woman alone in a man's world. But instead of shutting herself away fearfully, she opened herself to new opportunities both business and spiritual. She opened her heart to God and her home to people who were not like her, and helped found a new church in her place and time.

May we be more like her! Thanks be to God!

Rev. Patricia Barth

May 9 , 2010

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