4 Epiphany B February 1, 2015
Luther Memorial Church Seattle, WA
The Rev. Julie Hutson
Deuteronomy 18: 15-20 + Psalm 111
1 Cor. 8: 1-13 + Mark 1: 21-28
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God who creates us, Jesus who saves us, and the Holy Spirit who walks with us. Amen.
Recently I’ve been much more intentional about being present in our community, our neighborhood, in visible ways. In ways that people know I’m your pastor, or at least ‘a’ pastor. This is important for many reasons. It’s an opportunity for relational ministry – getting to know people who might never walk into our doors. It’s a chance to share something of our mission and ministry here when people ask where I’m a pastor. Usually when I tell them Luther Memorial, they say something about our sign. It’s one of our best evangelism tools.
Lately I’ve started writing my sermons in different coffee shops – Diva Espresso, Starbucks, Neptune, and Green Bean coffee house. Green Bean is owned by another local congregation: Sanctuary Church. They worship at Taproot Theatre and have offices on Greenwood Ave., but they don’t have a physical space. This coffee shop is their ministry of presence and its patrons are not required to make any purchases; they can simply come in and hang out. Many people do. Lots of meetings and things happen there.
Anyway, last week I was in Green Bean, trying to write this very sermon. I was distracted and I was struggling with the texts and it was a very sunny day, which made me want to go out and take a walk. Pretty soon I just found myself surrounded by lots of people. There were several parents buying their kids after school snacks. There was a meeting of some sort happening at the big table set up for that purpose. There was a woman with her cute little dog. There were two hipsters talking about whatever hipsters talk about. And there were at least 3 or 4 folks getting warm and making plans to walk together to the free community meal that night. It occurred to me that I was sitting in the middle of the Kingdom. All God’s children.
At the corner table was a man with all of his belongings piled at his feet. He was muttering over his book and would occasionally curse loudly enough to cause the parents in the place to raise an eyebrow at him.
As the afternoon wore on, another man began to pace just outside the doors of the coffee shop. He had on an oversized coat but no shoes and he paced back and forth. Back and forth. Finally, he came to an abrupt stop in the front of the doors, hurled them open and shouted something about Marshawn Lynch being the anti Christ before stumbling into the coffee shop.
In the next seconds, to my absolute horror, people looked to me, at my table near the door with my sermon writing supplies spread out. They looked as though they expected that since he was shouting about the anti Christ and I was wearing a clerical collar, perhaps it was my job to intervene somehow.
And in the next seconds, the man at the table with all of his possessions stood and approached the man in the doorway. The man in the doorway swore loudly and assumed a defensive posture and the man from the table kept approaching him and I began to wonder if I was going to be in the way of a physical exchange. And I was. Because the man from the coffee shop reached out, and embraced the man from the street in his arms. “It’s ok, man, it’s ok” he said softly. And the defiance seeped out of the man from the street as they sat at the table together and the barista brought them warm cups of tea.
And as suddenly as this drama had started, it ended, and the two men were absorbed into the ordinariness of the day.
I wonder what it was like for Jesus and the disciples when they walked into the synagogue in Capernaum on that Sabbath day? They encountered a man whose very being had been overtaken by darkness or by what the text calls a demon. And it was the demon that recognized Jesus. Not the scribes or the religious leaders in the synagogue, but the demon who knew that Jesus had the power to rebuke him and cast him out of the man.
We don’t hear much talk of demons these days – but that doesn’t mean that people are not still overcome with darkness and struggles and illnesses and troubles that weigh them down. It doesn’t mean that we are not overcome with darkness and struggles and illnesses and troubles that weigh us down.
And so I wonder: do we recognize Jesus in our midst? And can we be Jesus to one another? Can we be the Body of Christ in the world? And when we encounter Christ, what is our response? Are we, like everyone in the synagogue that day – amazed?
It is pretty easy to see Christ in one another on Sunday morning. I see Jesus here – in the many ways we care for one another as we gather together to worship. I see Christ when our children, tall and small, sing the songs of the faith. I see Christ when we give out lunch bags and when we give gloves and scarves to people who are cold. I see Christ in those of you who hold a hymnal for the person who cannot. I see Christ in those of you who teach our children. I see Christ as we gather around a table and share food. It’s easy to see Christ here. I think it’s a part of the reason we come to worship, to be reminded to look for him. To be fed by him. To hear the stories of the way Jesus was in the world when his feet touched the earth. And then we are equipped and empowered to go out and look for him in our days.
So where do you see Christ? Where does goodness outshine evil? Where is there comfort in the midst of pain and suffering? Where is there a faithful companion on the journey that we don’t recognize?
This is my challenge to us – to pay attention in our daily living so that we might see Christ, wherever he is found. Maybe the person being Jesus in your world is your teacher or your friend or your neighbor. Maybe Christ is found in your child or your parent or your sibling.
Maybe Christ is found in the Seahawks fan who gave his prized Richard Sherman jersey to a dejected little boy who was a Packers fan.
Most certainly Christ was found that day in the Green Bean Coffee shop, but it wasn’t in the person wearing the clerical collar. On that day, at that moment, Christ had all of his possessions at his feet and was cursing from time to time. But when he saw his brother who carried darkness and demons with him, Christ went to him with an open embrace and words of assurance: “It’s ok, man, it’s ok.” And Christ also came from behind the counter with two cups of hot tea, on the house, to soothe wounded spirits.
Christ is all around us. In the days ahead, can we slow down and pay attention and consider that he might be a poor carpenter’s son from Nazareth or the man from the streets of Seattle or the woman we’ll encounter when we stop at the store on our way home today? How will we respond when we meet him? Will we be amazed?
Thanks be to God. Amen.