Scripture:  Psalm 131 and Matthew 6:24-34

I would never have thought that Jerry Springer’s name would cross my lips in the context of a sermon, but it just did and it will again.  When I read the edited script of his remarks to the 2008 graduating class at Northwestern University’s School of Law, I knew his comments had something to do with today’s message, but I wasn’t sure just what it was.  I’ve got it now and I hope that by the time I sit down, you’ll have it too.

This morning’s gospel lesson is a familiar story, perhaps too familiar.  It may be too easy for us to say, “Oh, I heard that before and here’s what I think of it.”  Maybe we react to it by saying, “It’s easy for Jesus to talk about the lilies of the field and the birds of the air.  He didn’t have a mortgage, and tuition payments, and insurance premiums, and a hectic schedule that kept him running from one end of the day to the other.  What does he know about what I have to deal with every day?”  And you’re right.  What does Jesus know about what you face every day? 

There were no cell phones, or internet, or television, or radio 2000 years ago.  People had to rely on speaking directly to each other to know what was going on.  They had to rely on others carrying the story in that almost totally oral society.  There were no hiring standards or insurance coverage or cost of living increases.  Most of the people Jesus interacted with had no regular work that they could depend on.  And when they did find work they were completely at the mercy of the one who hired them as to how they would be treated and compensated.

The author of the gospel of Matthew places this story in the larger piece referred to as the Sermon on the Mount.  Another familiar reading from the Sermon on the Mount is Jesus teaching the disciples to pray.  It’s not the exact same words we’ll be saying in a few minutes, but it’s close.  Two of the petitions in the prayer are these:  “Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (NRSV, Matthew 6:11-12).  Many of the people in first century Palestine, many of the people to whom Jesus was speaking, were always on the brink of starvation and always on the brink of destitution.  In order for them to survive they needed bread for themselves and their family and they needed not to be enslaved to pay off debts. 

For us to relate as 21st century north shore residents to 1st century Palestinian life, we have to find the connections between their reality and ours.  That may seem like quite a leap, but I don’t think the distance is really that big.  Most of us do not face the daily prospect of starvation.  Our food needs are met in abundance.  Perhaps there are other needs that we face.  Not an empty stomach, but perhaps an empty heart.  There may be something that we long for, a sense of fulfillment, a sense of worth, a healed relationship. There are few of us here who don’t long for something. We imagine that something will give us a sense of wholeness. 

Most of us do not face the possibility of spending time as indentured servants to pay off our debts, but many of us are slaves to debt.  It often feels impossible to work our way out of debts accrued through mortgages, school tuitions, or an investment in some surefire opportunity that went south. Perhaps we’re tied to some notion about how much we need to accumulate before we can afford to retire and not be a burden to others.  Our sense of value comes all too often from what we own not from who we are.

The writer of the gospel of Matthew opens today’s story with these words:  No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other.  You cannot serve God and wealth (NRSV, Matthew 6:24).  These are words of encouragement from Jesus to those around him.  In his day, just as in ours, there was a tendency to believe that those who had wealth were particularly blessed by God.  Jesus, as he is wont to do, turned that notion on its head.  That was a central tenet of his ministry.  In the Gospel of Luke, he says, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (NRSV, Luke 6:20).   In the Gospel of Mark he advises a wealthy person to give his wealth away (NRSV, Mark 10:17-22) and he says that “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (NRSV, Mark 10:25).  Jesus was bringing good news to the poor of his day.  I think he’s bringing us good news too.  The point for Jesus is that God is our God, neither money nor fame nor talent nor power should distract us from what is most important.

Recently, I read a book called Three Cups of Tea.  It’s the story of Greg Mortenson, a former mountain climber, and his mission of promoting peace by  building schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan.  The title of the book comes from advice that Mortenson received from one of his mentors, Haji Ali, a Pakistan village chief.  Ali told him that “Here (in Pakistan and Afghanistan), we drink three cups of tea to do business; the first you are a stranger, the second you become a friend, and the third, you join our family, and for our family we are prepared to do anything – even die.”  These words were central to the success that Mortenson experienced in his work, through which he brought together Suni, Shii, and Ismaeli factions to focus on what they all wanted – schools for their children. 

Mortenson’s work was slow, very slow, and very steady.  He was successful because he didn’t get caught up in how important he was.  He stayed focused on the mission of sustainable and successful development which required that all projects were initiated, implemented, and managed locally.  Since 1993, Mortenson, through The Central Asia Institute, which he serves as Executive Director, has built 64 schools in Afghanistan and Pakistan, educating over 25,000 students with an emphasis on girls’ education.  He was able to stay focused on what was important – using his experience and connections to assist those whom many of us may view as our enemy.  He sees them for the people they are and in so doing helps the cause of peace.  This is a wonderful story of someone with few resources who was able to rally others to this cause and impact the lives of those who have been forgotten. (www.threecupsoftea.com)

I was reading the Metro section of the Tribune last week when I happened upon a photograph of a woman who could have been in a Norman Rockwell painting.  It was a photo of Irena Sendlerowa, who died earlier this month at the age of 98, in a nursing home in Warsaw, Poland.  During World War II she saved the lives of 2500 children by risking her life to go into the Warsaw ghetto and smuggle the children out.  Her Roman Catholic parents raised her to care for others, and that she did.  Ms. Sendlerowa was a social worker and could only enter the ghetto by pretending to be a sanitary worker.  Under that guise she brought in food, clothes, and medicine.  Later, with a group of her friends, she began smuggling children out after convincing their parents that it was safer to send them with her than to face death in Nazi ovens.  The children were taken to Catholic convents, orphanages and homes, and given non-Jewish aliases.  In order to reunite these children with their families, Sendlerowa wrote both names for each child on thin pieces of paper, placed them in jars and buried them in a friend’s garden.  In 1943 she was captured and tortured by the Nazis but did not reveal any names.  A bribe bought her escape on the way to her execution.   She was recognized as a Righteous Gentile in 1965 by Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust Authority.

Eight years ago a wider audience began to hear her story as four Kansas schoolgirls wrote a short play about Sendlerowa.  They called the play Life in a Jar and it has been performed over 250 times in the United States, Canada, and Poland.  As her fame spread, she responded to the attention by saying simply that, “Every child saved with my help is the justification of my existence on this Earth and not a title to glory.”  She did not allow her good deeds to go to her head.

This brings us, ironically, back to Jerry Springer.  You may remember the controversy that swirled around the invitation he received from the Northwestern University School of Law to be the commencement speaker this spring.  I understood and appreciated the uproar.  I thought Northwestern had lost its way.  And don’t I hate it when I’m proven wrong.  He hit the controversy head on.  After a brief introduction in which he noted that he sat where they were sitting 40 years ago, Springer had this to say:

. . . as happy as I am to look out and see all of your faces – I understand there are a number of you who aren’t too happy to see mine.  To the students who invited me – thank you.  To the students who object to my presence – well, you’ve got a point.  I too would have chosen someone else . . . But in an attempt to soften the pain, let me stipulate to the facts [I assume that’s lawyer language].  You are right, I am an imperfect being – (on my talk show, more colorful language might be employed) – and I feel hardly qualified to tell you what to do with your lives.  The truth be told, though I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy a comfortable measure of success in my various careers – let’s be honest – I’ve been virtually everything you can’t respect – a lawyer, a mayor, a major market TV news anchor and a talk-show host.  Pray for me.  If I get to heaven, we’re all going (Chicago Tribune, 5/21/08).

It’s very disarming to have someone say out loud what you’re thinking.  Springer went on to talk about some of the ethical challenges that he has faced in his various careers and that these graduating law students are likely to face as they begin theirs.  Springer talked about struggling to decide how much he would compromise as Mayor of Cincinnati in order to get important legislation passed; of the choices to publish stories in the press that would sell papers but visit interminable embarrassment on those the stories were about.  He suggested scenarios that these graduates may be facing in the next few months, placing them in the difficult position of having to defend a corporate client that is known to be polluting the environment or working for an insurance company bent on not paying claims.  In other words, Springer helped us look at the dilemmas that each of us face, the opportunities to choose what is ultimately good over what is expedient.  He raises moral dilemmas that speak to Jesus’ caution in our scripture lesson today  about the impossibility of attempting to serve two masters.  Springer welcomed these graduates to life.  This is what it is, each and every day.  Making choices.  Taking those choices seriously.

So here we are.  We’ve arrived at Memorial Day weekend, the beginning of summer.  We’re being encouraged to seek God’s way and wonder what that may mean today.  I hope that you will enter this summer with intentionality.  What are you going to do for you and those you love that will help you focus on what is important?  Will it be time at the beach or going for a walk or enjoying the Botanic Garden or the zoo?  Or will it be more time at work?  How many books are stacked on your night stand, waiting to be read? Will you make some time to read?

And what about that volunteering you’ve been promising yourself you’ll do one of these days.  Can’t this be that day, that summer.  It’s not likely that you’ll build 64 schools like Greg Mortenson or save 2500 children like Irena Sendlerowa, but you could serve meals at the Good News Community Kitchen or help prepare the meals that will be served.  You could help with Hands of Peace when a couple dozen teenagers travel here from the middle east in July.  You could spend time with an older person who isn’t able to get around like they used to. There are so many things that each of us could do to help us stay focused on what is most important.

And on this weekend in particular, as we remember those who have served our country, take time to do something concrete for members of our Armed Services and veterans.  Write to your legislators to insist that we spend what is needed to make sure that those who serve and their families are adequately cared for and that they don’t have to continue the fight back home for the benefits they deserve.  Write to your legislators to insist that we place as much or more emphasis on justice throughout the world and on diplomacy as we place on war. 

Regardless of the religious background of those in leadership positions, almost all religions turn on the golden rule.  In the Jewish tradition from the book of Leviticus, we have these words:  “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18).  In the Gospel of Matthew, we hear the same words: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt. 22:39).  And in Islam we have this lovely reading: “Not one of you is a believer until he loves for his brother what he loves for himself” (Forty Hadith of an-Nawawi 13).  We don’t have to make a choice here.  We can follow Jesus’ lead and serve the interests of the world. We have only one Master.  And that is the God Jesus tells us about.