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Sunday, January 23, 2022 - Sharing in Jesus' Ministry

This sermon was preached for the Third Sunday after Epiphany, January 23, 2022 at St. Andrew's Episcopal Church. The texts for this sermon are: Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-101 Corinthians 12:12-31aLuke 4:14-21, and Psalm 19.

I have a confession to make. I’m on TikTok now. Yes, it’s yet another social media platform. Yes, it’s majorly addictive. And I would say that it’s part of my job to be where the new generation of young people are. I could claim it's important for a youth minister to understand the social media worlds young people are immersed in...except that it was totally my sixty-year-old retired father who convinced me to finally install the app. 

You don’t have to spend a long time on TikTok, or Facebook, or Instagram, or Twitter, or Reddit or any of the other internet community spaces or social media platforms to realize that people are profoundly confused about what Christianity is. People aren't sure what the church stands for or what Jesus’ teachings really are. It’s partially that the generation of young people dominating the conversation in many of these places are less religious and more unchurched than previous generations. It’s partially that the internet is the means through which many of the most churched and most religious of that generation have begun to discover new ways of thinking and believing and interpreting the Bible, breaking out of enclaves and sharing across denominational lines.

But a lot of it, a whole huge tragic part of it, is because church and Christianity is where many, many people have encountered hatred, harm, and abuse. So, much of the confusion is really grounded in pain. It's pain stemming from all of the ways the words and deeds of Jesus, God's message of love and justice, have been completely contradicted by his followers. 

A young Episcopal priest I profoundly admire, Father Lizzie, does incredible ministry work in these spaces - what she calls “the digital translation” of the good news of God. It’s intensely brave work, often involving standing up to trolls and enduring harassment. And yet the impact of her content, and the content of other young women and queer clergy, is profound, and life-changing. Again and again, comments on their videos, images, and 30 second sermon pieces echo the same sentiment:

The inevitable - Women can be priests?? 

But also…

“If only someone had said that this was what Christianity was…” “I needed to hear this a long time ago”  “I haven’t been a Christian for a year but I’m healed a bit every time I hear a pastor say things like this.” 

I never knew.

No one ever told me. 

I can’t even imagine the difference this would have made in my life.

Now this is a church I could feel safe in. Where can I find a church like yours near me? I’m coming on Sunday.

And as Father Lizzie confirmed for me on Friday, they do indeed show up on Sunday mornings, drawn by the Jesus they heard about through her witness. 

Silly dances to viral songs, simple clips of holy gestures and vestments, heartfelt messages. This is the work of proclaiming good news, liberation, and healing to people who have been shut out, silenced, and shamed. Father Lizzie speaks love in a language people can hear and feel. She and others like her offer faith with care and beauty directly to people longing to heal and connect with Jesus once again. And with patience and grace, they say over and over, it's okay if you aren't ready yet. We'll be here, God will be here, when you are.

When people ask me, in real life and over social media, what Christianity is, I point to Jesus’ summary of our faith in Matthew 22:37-40. “Jesus said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

Or, in the words of Presiding Bishop Michael Curry: “Love God, love your neighbors, and while you’re at it, love yourself.”

That’s all well and good, love. But what does love mean out in the world? That’s when I point to Luke 4, to today’s Gospel, when Jesus stands up in the synagogue and reads out the words of the Prophet Isaiah. Jesus’ summary of his ministry, his mission statement. 

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

This is what loving God, loving neighbor, and loving self looks like out loud: it looks like good news for the poor, release for the captives, healing for the traumatized, and freedom for the oppressed. 

It is a message of hope for those who have been left out of today’s economy, squeezed out of opportunities, and turned away from the chance to live a good, full life. 

It is a path out for those who are stuck in addiction, shame, and despair. 

It is a new perspective for those who have been lied to, gaslit, and misled. 

It is the celebration of voices that have been shut out, silenced, and shamed for far too long. 

If it’s not about these things, it’s not about Jesus’ ministry. The difficult truth of Christianity today is that our work has been made harder by all the ways, subtle and obvious, historical and contemporary, that our tradition and our institutions have held down the poor, tightened the chains on captives, and trampled the oppressed.

So this work of love needs to be done both in here and out there. In here (heart) and out there.

If Christianity has ever been used to hurt you, if church has ever been an unsafe and unwelcome place for you, if Jesus' words have ever been used as a weapon against you, and you are still here - Thank you. Thank you for being here with us, (online or in the pews). Your presence is a gift.

And if you have ever known a loving Jesus, if you have ever felt like you belonged at church, if you have experienced Christ's healing in your life, you've got a gift to share. 

Chances are any of us sharing Jesus' good news will not take the form of a goofy viral video...but it will surely take courage. Perhaps it might look like a vulnerable conversation with a family member who's been hurt by Christianity - the kind of conversation where you listen more than you talk. Or patiently answering curious questions from a neighbor who's just learned you go to church. It might look like any of us signing up to learn more ourselves - about what's involved in authentically standing where Jesus is, alongside today's poor, imprisoned, and oppressed.

Believe it or not, Jesus' liberating love is a gift that people are wondering about and yearning for. It's a gift so many have yet to know.

 

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