The following sermon was preached by the Rev. Jeanne Tyler, November 1, 2000, at the weekly Wednesday, 9:00 a.m., service in Amistad Chapel, The Church House, 700 Prospect Avenue E, Cleveland OH 44115-1100.
The UCCDM, meeting in Cleveland at that time, was invited to lead that service. Jeanne is co-pastor of St. Paul’s United Church of Christ in Lincoln, Nebraska.
Scripture: Job 1:1, 2:1-10, Psalm 26, Mark 10:2-16
The question that Job raises for both Jews and Christians is a profound one, one that goes to the heart of the faith. How is it that we are able to praise God in a world that seems evil and, on purpose, intentional about doing us in? Why are our efforts to be good not rewarded? How can it be that a God we worship and call good can allow bad things to happen to good people? Why do good people suffer? The book of Job raises this question in a way no other book does.
How is it possible that I can stand here and praise God for my life when I have not often heard good news, or any news for that matter. Words often sound muffled to me without my hearing aids. I love music, but have a difficult time understanding the words that are sung. (My sons had an easy time growing up because I could not hear the lyrics to the music that they listened to with such rapt attention.)
The audacity with which I stand up here and proclaim God’s faithfulness must seem odd to some people. To me, God’s presence is like my next breath. Even when I have been most angry and uncertain, God has been a presence. Unlike Job, I struggled from the very beginning, first to walk and, then, to speak so as to be understood. Struggle defines my existence, and courage and hope come from this persistence to see God in the struggle with me and not against me.
Decisions we make have consequences. Sometimes we cause our own suffering by our actions. It is very difficult to live with this knowledge. This is called assuming responsibility for our actions; however, this was not Job’s problem. He was faithful and still afflicted.
Some terrible events just happen and we feel out of control. We feel powerless to affect change. This is how people with disabilities and their families often feel. My parents had a difficult time accepting my disabilities without being fearful about my future. It was of great concern to them. I just wanted to be accepted. I felt so different, and this was confirmed by my peers who could hear, and walk, and play with ease.
The church was the one place that felt welcoming to me. I want to make this church the most welcoming place in our culture. I want this church to be welcoming, not only to me, but to others who may be different. I want to see our circle of fellowship grow bigger as we are transformed into community.
We expect one another to bring gifts to church to honor God. I expect to receive gifts from every person I meet. For some, it is their anger or pain, for others, it is their thanks and abilities. I am thankful for people’s gifts. For most of us, it is our finances we bring to our offering. Most of us come with gifts and some of us know our gifts and yet others do not recognize the gifts they bring.
For many years, I was one of those who did not know my gifts. I was lost looking for community in all the wrong places, of course. My friends were not necessarily wrong, it
is just that we did not fit in well. We either looked or acted differently. We certainly did not fit in. I persistently went to church. I felt like I knew the church was a place of hospitality. Even when it was not being that way towards me or towards others even more excluded than I was, I knew it was called to be a place of hospitality. The glory of God was reflected in the people, all of whom were created in the image of this God.
As a child, the story of Adam and Eve had meant that we were all related-family, really-with all people. I never assumed anything else. This has influenced my ministry, making hospitality at the center because we are all cousins at one level or another.
I hope you can see how my disabilities have made me aware of my gifts for ministry. This in no way justifies the disabilities. I am burdened by a hearing loss. I am one of those people who are different. I stay connected with God because being connected with God makes it possible for me to be connected with the creation, including myself. I take great strength and courage from that bold statement the Rev. Jesse Jackson made popular years ago by proclaiming, “God don’t make no mistakes.” I take very seriously the image of God in whom we are created.
You know, I really wanted to be a college professor, and some of my friends thought that was what I would eventually do. However, I should have known my calling to ministry years ago. The summer I was seventeen years old, I did volunteer work with some children in a hospital setting. The children had various lung problems, in fact, one little boy died while I was there. That little boy was the orneriest little boy. He died of cystic fibrosis. He was so ornery no one was particularly sad. I worked with a couple of children and found a gift of relating that I did not know I had. I found it meaningful to see these children smile when I came into their rooms. One of the children had been abandoned because of her injury. She was literally growing up in this hospital ward.
I like giving hope to people around me. I like being hopeful. It sure beats giving up. I mean hope not in a false way of pretending everything is going to be fine, but in a way of trusting God with the worst, trusting that there is a way through the pain and despair. This is a gift I share with you, a gift I bring to the ministry.
Hope in God’s love and faithfulness that knows no end and hospitality are marks of the church. Sometimes we Christians try to prove God by claiming our happy lives are proof that we are special in God’s sight. The book of Job forever challenges this view and moves us to a deeper appreciation of belonging to the community of faith.
As we welcome one another, let us enjoy the gifts we bring and share the burdens we carry. Disabilities Ministries is about using everyone’s gifts for the glory of God. UCC Access Sunday is about raising awareness of the challenges of finding a place of worship that welcomes us and is inclusive of us. Hospitality defines us as welcoming.
Hope is what we offer; hope as belonging together and to God; hope as wanting peace in a world that seems violent; hope as including everyone at the table where resources are discussed and allocated. Hope is listening to one of the children whom I mentor read a book to me.
Hope is active, inviting, welcoming, and affirming. In the gospels, Jesus invited children to the center of faith. During the time of Jesus, children were not important because the death of so many children left families numb. Yet, Jesus chooses the vulnerability of children as central to his community.
Likewise, we who are vulnerable-who are defined as outsiders-find ourselves at the center of faith inviting hope. At the center of faith where Jesus is, our vulnerability, the ease with which we are excluded and discounted, is forever transformed. This community of children, persons with disabilities, different races, different cultures, different sexual orientations, and the poor, finds themselves filled with hope and courage to envision a new day that is already here and yet not quite. This imminent hope is what needs to be filled with acts of courage. We find ourselves at the dawn of a new day.
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
