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Edgy FriendsJune 24, 2007 Fourth Sunday after Pentecost It’s stories like the one Cathy read for us from Luke’s gospel that convince me the church has done a good job of domesticating Jesus. As you heard, he was on the very edge of society when he engaged a naked, ranting man who lived in the cemetery, a man who often broke the chains and shackles that bound him to roam wild in the wilderness. A man said to be possessed of demons. Jesus has left the shores of his own people and stepped into gentile territory here. So he’s on the fringe of human community in this wild, 2,000-year-old story, but now he resides in sparkling golden mosaics in the very epicenter of successful, even resplendent, propriety on Park Avenue, New York City. He’s gone from the edge to the center. From the depths to the heights. It’s a bit disorienting, actually. Although, walk by Christ Church any night this summer and you will find our doorways and courtyard home to many who have no home; it seems we could postulate these homeless sense the hospitality of the man for whom this property has been named. Of course, some of our neighbors don’t appreciate our namesake’s hospitality. That’s the tension in the paradox of following the path of one who would just as soon hang out with the least, the last, and the lost, and with the high and the mighty. No question we Christians at Christ Church, New York City practice a dynamically paradoxical religion, or faith, or spirituality – call it what you will. We’ve inherited a wondrous temple fashioned in the memory of a man who, in his own day, was deemed too radical for privileged society. In the last days of his life, he was tossed back and forth among the power-wielders in his nation’s cultural and political epicenter, ultimately sent out to the very edge of the city precincts where he was lifted high to die. Back then, that’s where it was deemed he belonged – out on the garbage heap where the riffraff found their humiliating, torturous end. No question he was an edgy character and he hung out with edgy characters – they were his people, so to speak. Today’s story is jam-packed with rich details and prompts many questions from us that concern our human condition, including the matters of demons and sanity and healing. For the moment, though, I want to stay with the simple fact that Jesus was often found engaging people who were on the edge of society, that he cared deeply about them, that he gave them his unqualified attention, and that his work and God’s purposes came to life when he addressed himself to their needs. There is a powerful humility found in this, a humility that we’ve paradoxically elevated into exquisite beauty, sparing no expense to do so, including locating this very temple on a rarefied piece of real estate that we say is “in the heart of the city, in the heart of the world.” There is a great tension in this – if we allow ourselves to see the scale of the paradox – as well as great responsibility. This tension and responsibility serve God’s purposes if we let them; they keep us focused on what matters most of all and who God deems is part of the human community. No question, Jesus loved the crazed demoniac who lived in the cemetery at the edge of human society. When he healed him, he told him to stay among his people, with his family, and live the truth that was now manifest in his life. I recently heard a story that serves as a small parable about this sort of radical inclusion and healing and family. Dick and Rick Hoyt are a father-and-son team who together compete in marathon and triathalon races, the latter being the daunting combination of 26 miles of running, 112 miles of cycling and 2.4 miles of swimming. Together they climbed mountains, and once trekked 3,735 miles across the United States. [1] For the past 25 years, Dick, who is 65, has pushed and pulled his son across the country and over hundreds of finish lines. When Dick runs, Rick is in a wheelchair that Dick is pushing. When Dick cycles, Rick is in the seat-pod from his wheelchair, attached to the front of the bike. When Dick swims, Rick is in a small but firmly stabilized boat being pulled by Dick. At Rick’s birth in 1962 the umbilical cord coiled around his neck and cut off oxygen to his brain. Dick and his wife, Judy, were told that there would be no hope for their child’s development. “It’s been a story of exclusion ever since he was born,” Dick said. “When he was eight months old the doctors told us we should just put him away – he’d be a vegetable all his life, that sort of thing. Well, those doctors are no longer alive, but I would like them to be able to see Rick now.” The Hoyts brought Rick home determined to raise him as normally as possible. Within 5 years, 2 brothers were added to the family, and Dick and Judy were convinced Rick was as bright as his siblings, but schools disagreed. Dick recounts that, “because Rick couldn’t talk they thought he would not be able to understand, but that wasn’t true.” The dedicated parents taught Rick the alphabet. “We always wanted Rick included in everything,” Dick said. In the 70’s, engineers developed an interactive computer that would allow Rick to write out his thoughts using the slight head movements that he could manage. The family quickly learned that Rick loved sports: the first words he managed to type were “Go Bruins!” Two years later he told his father he wanted to participate in a five-mile benefit run for a local boy who had been paralyzed in an accident. Dick agreed, and though they finished next to last, that night Rick reported he didn’t feel handicapped when they were competing. This birthed Team Hoyt – father and son began to compete in more and more events. But not without resistance. As Dick remembers, “Nobody wanted Rick in a road race. Everybody looked at us, nobody talked to us, nobody wanted to have anything to do with us, but attitudes began to change when they finished in the top quarter of the Boston Marathon. They’ve been competing ever since, and have included triathalons. Their mutual inspiration for each other has embraced others too – many spectators and fellow-competitors have adopted Team Hoyt as a powerful example of determination. “It’s been funny,” Dick says, “Some people have turned out, some in good shape, some really out of shape, and they say, ‘we want to thank you, because we’re here because of you.’” Most of all, the Hoyts see an impact from their efforts in the area of the handicapped, and on public attitudes toward the physically and mentally challenged. “That’s the big thing,” said Dick. “Rick is helping many other families coping with disabilities in their struggle to be included.” Ultimately Rick finished high school and graduated from Boston University with a degree in special education. Rick is confident that his visibility – and his father’s dedication – perform a forceful, valuable purpose in a world that is too often divisive and exclusionary. Rick types their mission: “The message of Team Hoyt is that everybody should be included in everyday life.” They have a powerful message of embodied love. This takes them on many journeys around our nation and increasingly, around the world. Interestingly, this love translates across cultures and languages. That’s because this love touches Truth, capital “T”. I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to think of their work as a variation of the work the restored man in today’s gospel lesson was admonished to accomplish, following his healing. “Jesus sent him away, saying, ‘Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.’ So he went away proclaiming throughout the city how much had been done for him.” What had been done was a work of love. That’s the sort of love we’ve visually elevated into golden splendor here. And, as we stay true to our purpose to love God above all things and our neighbors as ourselves, we also form a team that moves from our home base, here at Park and 60th, out into our families and places of employment, into the city, nation and world, and back again. How could it be otherwise if we follow along on Jesus’ path? Inevitably we’ll find ourselves going where he goes, associating with the people he associates with, doing the sorts of things he does, proclaiming the kind of wisdom he proclaims, and forming the astonishing community he forms. Surely, if we stay true to this course we’ll continually find others joining in. And, as if to put an exclamation point on this, today we welcome new friends into our family, persons who evidently can bear the tension in our call and mission here at Christ Church to love God and neighbor. We’ll be stronger for their partnership. Just more evidence that Christ lifted high, attracts the world’s attention. ___________________________ Previous sermon: Grace Won the Day! • Next sermon: You Have Been Set Free All past sermons |
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