Sermon #16 @ St. Paris UMC (10.11.09)

Pastor Dave Kepple

Text: Matthew 25:31-46

Title: “Cultivating Fruitfulness, Part 4: Risk-Taking Mission & Service”

Date: Oct. 11, 2009 (19th Sunday after Pentecost)

Internet Link for primary scripture texts used in this sermon:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/index.php?search=Matt.%2025:31-46&version=NIV&interface=print

I don’t know about you, but I like safety, I like comfort, and I like convenience.
But there have been times when I stepped out of my comfort zone for the sake of the gospel, and I bet you have, too.
In fact, if we haven’t taken a risk or two because of our faith in Christ, we may be missing out on some of the most joyful experiences life has to offer.
Living for Jesus – seeking first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness – has always been a risky business. It also is the only true pathway to peace and freedom in this world.
And as the Lord suggests in the parable of the sheep and goats, how we respond to opportunities for mission and service also can have eternal consequences, for good or ill.
Indeed, there’s something downright “judgmental” about this story Jesus tells in Matthew 25. That’s a little shocking, perhaps, to our 21st century mindset, where judging others sometimes is seen as the greatest sin of all. But there’s no getting around it, for in this parable Jesus is talking about his eventual return to this earth and along with it, a final judgment of our lives.
It sounds like Jesus wants us to make a difference in this world. It sounds like He really cares about the least, the last and the lost.
Which leads to the topic of “Risk-Taking Mission and Service,” the theme for our worship today as we continue our sermon series on “Cultivating Fruitfulness.”
When I began reading the devotions about “Risk-Taking Mission and Service” from the Cultivating Fruitfulness book, I was pleasantly surprised to find a reference to Kairos prison ministry and to a gentleman who has served in that program.
It’s been a while since I’ve thought much about my own experiences with Kairos at the Lebanon Correctional Institution.
If you’re not familiar with Kairos, let me explain. It is an ecumenical Christian ministry, which operates to help grow and nurture strong Christian communities within state and federal prisons. With God’s help, Kairos volunteers provide prison residents the opportunity to know Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior – or to renew that relationship – starting with a three-day “short course on Christianity.”
During the Kairos weekend and follow-up activities, residents are challenged to accept God’s call to a life of Christian witness and service to one another and the prison staff during their stay in the institution – and beyond.
Notice we call them residents – not prisoners or inmates. That’s just a way of keeping the dignity of these men in the forefront, reminding ourselves that Jesus died for every one of them, too. As a matter of fact, one of our firm rules in Kairos is that we don’t ask the residents what crime led to their incarceration, or how long their sentence might be.
I remember my very first Kairos weekend back in 2003. How nervous I was that first afternoon inside the gymnasium at Lebanon Correctional, waiting for the arrival of the 42 residents taking part. Maybe it was something about the security waivers we had all been asked to sign, or some of the stern cautions we had received from the prison chaplain about being inside the walls.
Most of the 50 or so lay and clergy volunteers on the Kairos team had been asked to “sponsor” one of the 42 residents. This involved writing them a note which they received prior to the weekend, and also greeting them on that first afternoon, to give them a welcome and help break the ice.
The fellow I sponsored went by the nickname “Alabama,” and he was a short, stocky, bearded fellow – very cheerful – and he appeared to be about my age. He quickly volunteered that he had been convicted of murder, a disturbing fact I couldn’t entirely put out of my mind. Alabama was one of many violent offenders in our midst for those three days.
Nevertheless, as the weekend proceeded, those 42 men in prison garb became our “brothers in blue,” as we shared from our journeys, sang praises and gave testimonies, ate together, laughed together, cried together, prayed together. It didn’t take long at all for the nervousness of that first afternoon to melt away.
In its place came a sense of joy and peace as I watched a unique fellowship blossom -- reminding me of the miracle of the Church that was born in Acts 2. Remember, we read about it last week, how “they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done.” (Acts 2:42-43)
A few years later, by the time I took part in my fourth Kairos weekend, I could even laugh when one of the corrections officers joked about pulling me aside for a strip search as we awaited entry to the prison. OK, it might have been nervous laughter, but still . . .
In this adventure of “Risk-Taking Mission and Service,” I experienced the reality of these words from 1 John 4:18 – “Perfect loves casts out fear.”
I have concluded that risk-taking mission and service can bring all of us to know the joy and peace of the perfect love of Jesus Christ, and I believe it is part of God’s call upon all who follow Jesus. Indeed, our Lord made it clear from the start that mission and service to the least, the last and the lost are central to his Kingdom.
In the gospel of Luke, you may recall, Jesus began his ministry at his hometown of Nazareth. On the Sabbath day, he went into the synagogue. He must have been the liturgist that day, because someone handed him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah to read. “Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:
‘The Spirit of the Lord is on me, 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.’ ”
And then, Luke tells us, “He rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him, and he began by saying to them, ‘Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.’ ” (Luke 4:16-21)

Rev. Allen R. Bevere, pastor of First United Methodist Church in Cambridge, Ohio, warns that the future of churches everywhere depends upon Risk-Taking Mission and Service.
In his message “Risky Business,” Bevere says: “A congregation that loses the profound reason for its existence will slowly wither and die. The church of Jesus Christ exists for others; it exists for the world.
“What can happen (and Bevere says happens all too often) is that congregations move from existing for the world to existing for their own sake. They see their mission not as reaching those outside the church for Jesus Christ, but as catering to the current constituency.
“As important as it is for the church to care for its membership,” Bevere adds, “focusing inward on those who are members instead of outward on those who need to know and embrace God’s saving love is a recipe for eventual stagnation and decline.
“After 24 years as a pastor,” Bevere concludes, “I have become convinced that the primary reason the church turns inward is because we are afraid. We are not afraid to be in mission and service; we afraid to be in Risk-Taking Mission and Service.

What about us and our church? What about you and me?
I know this church has a heart for mission and service. It has been evident to us from the time of our arrival a few months back. I believe there is a strong desire to share the love of Jesus Christ in the community. And what’s more, I trust we know in our hearts the “community” extends well beyond the boundaries of the Graham School District, indeed, beyond Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.
But are we truly risk-taking in our mission and service? Or is there room for growth in our lives as we trust in the Lord at a deeper level?
Are we ready to take the leap – a leap of faith – into the risky business of being vulnerable, of stepping outside our comfort zones, for the sake of Christ and His Kingdom?

Bishop Robert Schnase, author of our “Cultivating Fruitfulness” devotional books, notes that the stories, teachings and parables of Jesus consistently point toward God’s love for the poor, the sick, the outcast – those who have often been beaten down by life.
Schnase writes: “Against the resistance of the religious elite and contrary to the advice of his disciples, Jesus lifts up the bent-over woman on the Sabbath, touches the unclean with healing power, releases the paralyzed from his bed, eats with tax collectors in their homes, and risks the violence of the mob to (help) … the woman caught in adultery.
“In teaching and in action,” Schnase goes on, Jesus “shows that God’s way includes costly demonstrations of God’s love to the least likely.”
And finally, as we see in today’s gospel lesson from Matthew, Jesus tells that in every act of compassion, people touch Christ:
“I was hungry, and you gave me food; I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you welcomed me; I was naked and you gave me clothing; I was sick and you took care of me; I was in prison and you visited me.” (Matt. 25:35-37)

I want to close with a story I received by e-mail the other day. I don’t normally use this kind of stuff in a sermon, but somehow it seems like I’m meant to share this one with you today. It’s about a woman named Ruth.
The story goes that Ruth went to her mailbox one day and found a single letter. She picked it up and looked at it before opening, but then she looked at the envelope again. There was no stamp, no postmark, only her name and address. She read the letter.

Dear Ruth,

I’m going to be in your neighborhood Saturday afternoon and I’d like to stop by for a visit.

Love Always,

Jesus

Her hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table.
‘Why would the Lord want to visit me? I’m nobody special. I don’t have anything to offer.’
With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets. ‘Oh my goodness – I really don’t have anything to offer. I’ll have to run down to the store and buy something for dinner.’ She reached for her purse and counted out its contents. Five dollars and 40 cents.
‘Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least.’
She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of French bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk, leaving Ruth with a grand total of 12 cents to last her until Monday. Nevertheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meager offerings tucked under her arm.
‘Hey lady, can you help us?’
Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans she hadn’t even noticed the two figures huddled in the alley – a man and a woman – both of them dressed in little more than rags.
‘Look lady, I ain’t got a job, you know, and my wife and I have been living out here on the street, and, well, now it’s getting cold and we’re getting kind of hungry and, well, if you could help us … Lady, we’d really appreciate it.’
Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, they smelled bad and frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to.
‘Sir, I’d like to help you, but I’m a poor woman myself. All I have is a few cold cuts and some bread, and I’m having an important guest for dinner tonight and I was planning on serving that to Him.’
‘Yeah, well, OK lady, I understand. Thanks anyway.’
The man put his arm around the woman’s shoulders, turned and headed back into the alley. As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart.
‘Sir, wait!’ The couple stopped and turned as she ran down the alley after them.
‘Look, why don’t you take this food. I’ll figure out something else to serve my guest.’ She handed the man her grocery bag.
‘Thank you lady. Thank you very much!’
‘Yes, thank you!’ It was the man’s wife, and Ruth could see now that she was shivering.
‘You know, I’ve got another coat at home. Here, why don’t you take this one.’
Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it over the woman’s shoulders. Then smiling, she turned and walked back to the street – without her coat, and with nothing to serve her guest.
‘Thank you lady! Thank you so much!’
Ruth was chilled by the time she reached her front door, and worried, too. The Lord was coming to visit and she didn’t have anything to offer Him. She fumbled through her purse for the door key. But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox.
‘That’s odd. The mailman doesn’t usually come twice in one day.’

Dear Ruth,

It was so good to see you again. Thank you for the lovely meal. And thank you, too, for the beautiful coat.

Love Always,

Jesus

The air was still cold, but even without her coat, Ruth no longer noticed. . . .

. . . Whenever we do anything for these, the least of our brothers and sisters, we do it for the Risen Christ. Thanks be to God!