So, I wrote this after a weekend, an amazing weekend, in Pittsburgh at the Jubilee Conference, then preached it in Chapel. It rocked.
Have you ever been to an emergency room at midnight?
It’s amazing. There is such a mix of people. You might even call them characters. There are drunks. There are whores. There are soccer moms and college students. There are homeless men in rags and wealthy women in diamonds. There are those who have tripped down the steps of their gigantic mansions and those who are come to the ER in a state of desperation. They have not sought medical treatment yet, because they cannot afford it. It is a messy place. People scream, cry, beg, puke, and bleed. There is nothing neat and tidy about the Emergency Room. It is a place, though, that ultimately offers hope. Those who work in the ER work on the front lines of the battle. They comfort, command, stitch, bandage, and labor in a choreographed frenzy, with a spirit of teamwork and strength.
Growing up, I was surrounded by the church. I was raised to believe the church is the way to truth, peace, happiness, and most importantly, love. The truth is I found the church is a place of judgment, of pain, of hurt. Church is a place where people, God’s supposed Children, reject and are rejected.
You see, my mother was a drug-addict who had AIDS. I never knew how she got it. She did use drugs, so maybe it was a dirty needle. Maybe it was unprotected sex. I don’t know. I never asked.
She rode motorcycles. Harley Davidsons, actually. She was covered in tattoos. She lived in sin with her boyfriend and drove a pea green pickup truck. There was nothing about her that fit into the image of the church I knew. I rode to church with my neighbors, Chuck and Faye and their children. I remember telling someone there about my mother’s disease. I was met with fear, rejection, and ultimately judgment.
I was eight at the time. This, I began to believe, was the way of the church.
God is love, people would tell me.
God is broken, I would think.
However, Luke 4:18 tells a different story. The spirit of the Lord is on me, Jesus said, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
There is nothing broken about the Christ Jesus of the gospel of Luke. Jesus is here to preach good news to the poor. He is here to unlock the cell for the prisoner, to make the blind see, to unchain the oppressed, and to loudly proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. The Jubilee.
This weekend, I, along with fourteen others from Peace College, drove ten hours to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. We arrived at a hotel, busting with young people, luggage and bibles. It was overwhelming! I clung to our Rev, Tara, wide-eyed and intimidated. Slowly, though, I began to get my sea legs under me. I felt my way. I began, in fact, to feel at home.
At this amazing conference, surrounded by two thousand people interested in talking about Jesus and God and the Kingdom, I began to feel and understand something that I had never felt and never understood.
God is love.
God loved us so very much that He sent His beloved son to preach good news to the poor. He anointed His beloved Son to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
John 1 said: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the word was God. He was with God in the beginning… The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.
God is love and the Word is love and the Word became flesh.
Take a moment to think about that.
The Holiest of Holy, the Son of Man, the Messiah, the Lord our Savior. He Himself took the form of a human, wrapped himself in our vulnerable flesh, and came to dwell in the world.
And the amazing thing about this is that we are anointed with the same spirit that anointed Jesus. We are God’s beloved children. He cherishes us, wishes to hold us to his chest, to hear our worries, rejoice our victories, and soothe our aches. He is so very pleased. He is SO very pleased with his children, with you.
Do you hear me?
God is pleased with you.
God is impressed with you.
God is love and he loves you.
This weekend, I was so privileged, so blessed, to go to lectures presented by various luminaries who gave their time to the Jubilee Conference. One of them, Kenny Crosswhite, is actually the Chaplain for NASCAR, among other things. He spoke on finding our part in God’s Story. To be quite honest, his speech moved me in a way that not much ever has. He spoke of Grace. God’s amazing Grace. Share, he said. Pass on God’s Grace. Give Grace to everybody. From the hooker to the drunk and everyone in between.
Grace. Grace is such a beautiful word when you think about it. Perhaps there was grace extended to me when I was a young child, attending church. But it is not the grace I remember. It’s the rejection. The damnation. The pain. That’s not what church is supposed to be about. I refuse to allow the precious church to be that anymore. No.
The church is the only club in this world that ought to exist for the benefits of its non-members. Church is a community of followers of Jesus, coming forward, extending grace and love. Becoming the flesh. The word becomes flesh.
Another amazing follower of Christ spoke. Tony Campolo, a Baptist Preacher, urged us all to remember that we are the body of Christ. Christ Jesus has ascended to the right hand of God the Father, but the Spirit of Christ would live on through us. John 14:12 says: 12Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father… You will do greater works than these? You, and me, will do greater works than Jesus?
What’s the meaning of that? It means that, through us, through those who have faith in Christ and the Father, even greater works will be done. Those who carry on in Christ’s name will do greater things than these. You can carry on in Christ’s name. You can do greater things than these. It is, in fact, your responsibility to do greater things than these. Through Christ, there is a limitless amount of grace, compassion, and love. No one in the world need starve for the Good News.
In the Old Testament, God said to himself: I’ll preach at them. I’ll send them some books. I’ll create law on a tablet of stone. And he did. But he realized that words were not enough to bring true Grace to his sons and daughters. And so, God sent his Beloved Son. And Jesus brought the Word. Now, Jesus didn’t walk around, telling people about what He was capable of. He didn’t perform the miracles to impress people, or to gain status or to gain position. No, Jesus performed the miracles because he loved people. He performed acts of love, and let them speak for themselves. He preached the gospel only after he had met their needs, shown them love, and extended them grace.
No, Jesus didn’t come to talk. The spirit of the Lord is on me, he said, because he has anointed me to preach the good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
For me, the Jubilee conference opened my eyes to the Kingdom of God. It made me aware of the desperate want for love and grace we have in this world. It made me aware of how broken we all are. How we are all broken sinners, kneeling at the foot of the cross, begging for mercy and needing God’s healing love.
And this is the thing.
Where you sit, right now?
Was once a hospital.
Once upon a time, in another century entirely, this very building served as a hospital to the sick and injured and dying. This very room housed those in desperate need of comfort. Main Building, before it was the College as we know it, was an Emergency Room. This very building protected those who were weakest, who had no way to protect themselves. The proud columns were not a symbol of learning but a symbol of healing. The brick that makes up this building was not just beautiful to look at, but kept the wind and the rain and the sun off the sick and injured; off the broken.
Pause and consider that.
This was a hospital. And I tell you that it still is. We sit, today, in God’s Emergency Room.
We, as the body of Christ, have a responsibility to care for those who are broken. Maybe those people aren’t broken physically. Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t poor in money, but in faith. Like the amazing team working in the Emergency Room at midnight, we must reach out to those who need us. They come in all shapes and sizes, from every nation, bearing every flag, carrying every burden and offering every joy. They all need us. We all need them. We need each other. We are in need of the body of Christ and I say to you that the body of Christ is around us!
We should not be telling our brothers and sisters to lay their woes at the feet of Jesus! We should be encouraging, begging, empowering our brothers and sisters to lay their woes at OUR feet! We must extend grace to the people, to each other! We must realize that all is not well in the world. As long as there is plenty, poverty is evil.
Today, as I speak, evil is done in the wilds of the world. Widows slowly starve in the ghettos of Calcutta. Young men die in the concrete devastation of the American inner city. Innocent kids dig for illegal blood diamonds until their hands bleed the proof of our vanity. There are, in this world, in this country, in this room, people who know nothing but pain and suffering. We, as the body of Christ, must engage Grace with those people. No, all is not well, but we can make a difference.
When someone says to you, in a saccharine and dismissive tone, hand your grief, hand your pain, hand your troubles over to Jesus, just give it to Jesus, what they should be saying is… hand it to me.
This is the true way of Jesus and God and the Church. The Church is not a museum for saints, but a hospital for sinners. All are accepted. None should ever be turned away. God’s Emergency Room is filled to the brim with those people who are in need of treatment, love, and care. And not just those bearing the tragic stories of poverty, illness, and war. No, God’s ER is filled with us. Broken sinners with a desperate need for Grace.
Grace is what is prescribed in God’s ER. We can take that Grace and we can pass it on, we can serve as the body of Christ, and do for Him, in His name. Because, my friends, we are anointed with that spirit, that very same spirit, who anointed Jesus. We are our each others keepers. We are responsible for one another. We are Christ to one another. We must show each other grace. We must labor and love in God’s emergency room.
Following the footsteps of Christ doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to leave this chapel, pack your bags, and go to Africa to spread the Good News. No, following in the footsteps of Christ can be done in a million ways. Speaking kinder words to the girl on your hall who you think is a little weird. Taking your academics seriously, to learn knowledge that you can use to serve the Lord. Smiling at a stranger as you pass. These things, these small things, all plant your foot firmly in the footprint left by Jesus.
Will you join me? Will you?
