Wednesday, June 12, 2024

Mark 12: 28-34 and Ruth 1: 1-18 -- 4 November 2012

 

One of my favourite Mark Twain quips is, “When I was ten, I thought my parents knew everything. When I became twenty, I was convinced they knew nothing. Then, at thirty, I realized I was right when I was ten”.

When I was a 20-year-old kid in university, I remember bringing home all kinds of new ideas and opinions to my parents.  I think that I truly believed I was doing them a favour. Sometimes they would challenge what I was bringing home, especially if it was accusatory;  sometimes they would be really interested in the new perspective and we’d have a great discussion about it; most of the time, I think that my half-baked new ideas went in one ear and out the other, and deserved to be.

One of the places that we had disagreements was in the whole idea of whose land we were on.

I had been raised with a basic understanding that since my ancestors, the good folk of the British Isles had done so much work breaking the land and providing organization and leadership throughout most of English-speaking Canada, there was no question.  The land was ours, and anyone else wishing to join us could do so but only if we said they could, and only if they understood that the rules we’d set were THE RULES.  And until 1967, the laws of Canada did more or less agree with this opinion.

In contrast to this, one of the ideas I trotted home from University was the idea that all of us from the British Isles were at one point newcomers to this land.   Theologically, we could say that the land belonged to God; politically, we could say that the land was primarily the home of the various aboriginal peoples who inhabited it for several millennia before our ancestors’ arrival; but there was not much to support that me and my ancestors had a primary claim, and nothing to support the breach of hospitality in the way we moved right on in.  On this point, my parents and I definitely did not agree.

Now that my kids are in their early 20s, they’re challenging/renewing my thinking on such matters.  One of our daughters, for example, never writes Victoria BC as her return address – it’s always Victoria, Unsurrendered Esquimalt Territory.   As someone who is just 4 years away from finally having our Calgary mortgage paid off, and has become rather complacent and conservative as a householder, I guess I needed the reminder that the issues that burned within me 30+ years ago are still live issues. Whenever I start feeling possessive of the land, and culture, and Church, in which I live, there is another voice correctly challenging my understandings.  

Today’s first reading, the familiar and well-loved story of Ruth and her devotion to her mother-in-law, Naomi, is an ancient story that challenged some of the understandings of its day.  Naomi, and her daughters-in-law Orpah and Ruth were all widows, and they all needed to make some big decisions.  In this story Ruth functions as the kid bringing new information home to mom (or, in this case, mom-in-law) because her devotion to Naomi, held greater force than her trust in the common wisdom of the day. Naomi was an Israelite so when her husband and sons died, and there was a plentiful crop back home, it only made sense to return to Israel.  But Ruth was a Moabite girl, Israelite by marriage only, so when she and Orpah were widowed Naomi said to them “go back home and stay with your mothers.  May the Lord be as good to you as you have been to me and to [my sons].”  But Ruth would not stay back in Moab – her place was with her mother-in-law, her devotion was to the God of Israel.  Common logic said, understand your place and stay home.  God’s call said something else. 

This is a beautiful story of devotion.  It is also a story with a huge message about the interaction of peoples, of relations between God’s people and those we might see as outsiders.  In order to make sure that we get this message, the book of Ruth ends (4: 13-22) with a tremendously important note about genealogy:  Ruth did go to Israel, where she married Boaz and they had a son named Obed.  Obed became the father of Jesse, and Jesse was the father of David.  So King David, the great hero of Israel, was one-eighth Moabite.  From a Christian standpoint, we can add to this the genealogy of Jesus from the 1st chapter of Matthew, which tells us that Jesus of Nazareth, 28 generations after King David, stands heir to a line that includes Moabite blood.  

From a historical-critical standpoint one can look at these genealogies and say, “well that’s lovely, but fanciful.  Clearly, those family trees are just make-believe.“  Which may well turn out to be true if we were able to unearth some census records and do some fact-checking, but something else is even more true.  Those who determined what goes in the Bible and what stays out looked at this story and wanted to deliver a message to all succeeding generations, and the message is this: Don’t you dare treat this as somebody else’s story.  Don’t you dare point at the Moabites coming across our border and say they don’t belong here.  Ruth is one of our great-great-grandmas in the faith.  So every time you deal with a migrant from another nation, every time you are faced with refugees escaping famine in their land, treat them as if they were your own sister or brother.  Extend the kindness of Leviticus 19:33, which specifically says (TEV) “Do not ill-treat foreigners who are living in your land.  Treat them as you would a fellow-Israelite, and love them as you love yourselves.  Remember that you were once foreigners in the Land of Egypt.  I am the Lord your God.”    

Throughout the Bible, the people of God were occasionally the settled ones, but more often we have been migrants, refugees, nomads, people without a home.  Scripture does not let us neatly divide the world into us and them, insiders and outsiders, and God does not allow us, ever, to close our eyes to the plight of the world, no matter where people are located or where they are from.  Whether we are trying to find right relations with our aboriginal sisters and brothers who pre-date us on this land, or are welcoming others who are new to our land, our community, we need to realize that new and old, central and peripheral, are labels that easily change with time and at all times, kindness and compassion are the order of the day as we deal with one another.

Keep that understanding in mind as we turn to the reading from the gospel of Mark.  In both Matthew and Luke, the question about which commandment was greatest was portrayed as a set-up, designed to get Jesus into trouble.  But here in Mark it is remembered differently.  Here, a teacher of the law who was already impressed with how Jesus handled other questions comes to Jesus privately and asks an earnest question: “which commandment is the most important of all?”. 

The answer is two-fold:  a foundational commandment and well-known worship element from the 6th chapter of Deuteronomy, to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind and strength; and a lesser-known scripture from Leviticus 19.  This was the same chapter that contained the rules about not harvesting the corners of your fields so the poor would have some gleanings, the same chapter that contained the rules about referred to earlier about fair treatment of foreigners in the land. From Leviticus 19 Jesus picked obscure little verse 18 as primary: to love one’s neighbour as oneself. 

Jesus challenged his hearers then and his hearers now to keep those two aspects of our life interlinked: our love of God and our love of neighbour.  Neglect neither, for together they create a great balance.  Whole-hearted devotion to God with no recognition of the needs, or even the presence, of others, is not our calling.  But similarly, while we are directed to be engaged in healing the hurts and alleviating the troubles of those in need, our calling is to do this as an expression of a deep connection to the loving, forgiving power of God. Jesus has told us that these two commandments taken together, to love God and love neighbour, are the lenses through which we evaluate all else in life.  Whatever else I do, whatever else I believe, gets measured by whether it brings me closer to God, and whether it expresses Christ’s own love of neighbour.  

No matter what issue we are trying to figure out, that two-fold great commandment holds the day.  They are the first two questions to have in the back of your mind when making ethical decisions, something like the WWJD bracelets from a few years back that encouraged us to wonder “what would Jesus do”  - except that the two-fold Great Commandment does not just ask “what would Jesus do” but “how would Jesus think this one through?”  From our response to Canada’s recently - changed immigration laws, to our expressions of hospitality here at Church, to our understanding of ourselves as sojourners on first nations land, our willingness to love God and love neighbour frames our thoughts and actions and identity.

In a few moments, we will share in the ritual meal that Jesus has given us.  It’s a meal that puts the great commandment into action: the great thanksgiving prayer gives praise for the ways that God is active in the unfolding of history, and the meal itself is shared with all neighbours who seek the path of Jesus.  Whether we are feeling close to God at this moment, or are feeling separated for some reason, we are invited to share in the bread and the cup.  Whether we’ve been part of this Church forever, or just walked in the door this morning, we are equally called and equally loved.  Whether we feel a bit out of place, like Ruth, or are totally devoted to God, like Ruth, or are more important to the faith lives of others than we would ever imagine, like Ruth,  this table and this house of worship are intended to be home for us. The Bible may not let us get comfortable in identifying insider vs. outsider in our understandings of faith and life, but the invitation of this table is clear: all are fully invited to come to the table of our Lord Jesus Christ.  

In the light of same fairly blunt Biblical admonitions this morning, I have to say that I am proud to be serving this congregation.  I believe that RCMUC has a real heart for the ministry of welcoming.  Marshall, Donna & others do a great job meeting new worshippers at the door and then it continues as all of us become involved – at coffee time, in the pews, when you see someone you’ve not yet spoken to, when you spot someone on the edge of a social gathering or not staying around real long after Church and invite them to join in, when you go from this place and engage newly-arrived neighbours with the gift of hospitality. The newly-instituted Benevolent Offering on Communion Sundays is another way we express our connectedness to our neighbours and their needs, whether those needs are spiritual, material, or both.  As a community gathered in the name of Christ, we are called to continually invite others and the great thing about it is, that as we invite new people we, in turn, will be changed by their wisdom, and bolstered by the strength of their faith. 

In that spirit of invitation, and by the power of Christ’s love, please rise and greet one another in the name of Christ.  May the peace of Christ be with you all.  Amen.

For further reading:

A Christian reply to Canada’s Immigration Legislation, Bill C-31, from Kairos Canada:
http://www.kairoscanada.org/dignity-rights/migrant-justice/protect-refugees-from-bill-c-31-joint-statement/

United Church of Canada’s efforts for right relations between the Church and First Nations: http://www.united-church.ca/aboriginal

Some pithy Mark Twain quotes, at http://www.betatesters.com/penn/twain.htm

© 2012 Rev. Greg Wooley, Ralph Connor Memorial United Church, Canmore AB

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