Sermon from January 28, 2007
In the movie Dream Girls, we hear a dialogue between Ellie, the lead singer, and her brother. He wants her to step down as lead singer and she is not happy. . . she is angry and crushed. But he believes that they are on the verge of something huge. "Whatever dreams we have are for the family," he tells her, "The dream is big enough for all of us to share. . . it is more than you and me." The dream is huger than her. In the song we hear the words, "We are a family, like a tree, reaching out to the sky. We are a family like a tree, growing stronger and wiser."
We too are a part of a dream as Christians. The dream and the Dreamer are much larger than any one of us. We are family.
There have been many movies this year that have talked about family. But the one I have enjoyed the most is Little Miss Sunshine. This family is the definition of dysfunctional. The father is a motivational speaker who can't motivate anyone. The family sighs and rolls their eyes at his lectures. The grandfather walks on the wild side. The uncle is a university professor who tried to kill himself because the man he had a crush on chose another. The fifteen-year-old has taken a vow of silence until he gets into the Air Force Academy, only to find out he is colorblind. And the little girl. . . why, the little girl is wonderfully unique.
She loves life and believes with all of her heart that she can win the "Little Miss Sunshine" beauty contest. She is her own person and proud of it. She is someone you fall in love with. The family all joins together to take her to the "Little Miss Sunshine" contest, each dealing with their own issues, in their own little world. But something amazing happens. They all seem to find each other. During the "Little Miss Sunshine" contest, each contestant is asked to perform in the talent competition. The little girl has been practicing and practicing for this moment. What we find out is that her grandfather has taught her a risque dance, almost a striptease, to the song "She's a Sexy Girl." As she begins the performance, the crowd is appalled. The father is asked to escort his daughter off the stage. He is torn, for he loves her. He is embarrassed at the same time, swayed by the crowd. . . but he loves her. So he gets up on stage to escort her off. . . and begins to dance with her. Then the uncle jumps up on stage, then her brother, and then eventually her mother. With joy they dance together, unafraid and unashamed, with freedom and laughter. I see this as the family of God - all broken in our own ways, all dealing with our own issues, rallying together and dancing together, even when society tells us that we are a bit wrong for the part. We don't care, for we are loved, and we are family. . . and we dance!
As the family of Christ, we are connected through God's spirit to create a household of grace. From the beginning of time, ours has been a dysfunctional family. But God blesses us and loves us. Some members of our family are judgemental, play games, and have secret agendas. But ultimately we are family. And we are called to find a way. For as people of Christ we are called to be open, compassionate, forgiving, and connected. Wow! That is hard!
Our household of God is all-encompassing. Everyone, and I mean
God calls us beyond ourselves. This is sometimes hard. We are all busy learning, developing skills, fitting in time for a social live. . . trying to think of what we want to be when we grow up. But we are called to be involved in God's sacred movement in the world. In I Kings, we find Elijah called to approach a Phoenician woman - a widow, a foreign woman - for water and bread. She is gathering sticks to prepare her last meal, for her and her son. She has only a handful of ground meal and a little oil left. She looks at the handful of meal and shakes her head. She can't do it. but Elijah promises her that God will not let the jar of oil or meal go empty until the drought is over. During a time of famine, Elijah was challenged to reach beyond the bounds of his tribe in order to receive nourishment. He needed the help of that widow. And she was called to take that last bit of flour in her hand and feed a stranger. They knew that there was something beyond what they could see right in front of them. They both risked in order to live in God's dream, to discover that God's family is beyond boundaries. What a sacred moment it was for them to discover God's presence calling them together.
Jesus, in the Gospel of Luke, announced his ministry by reading the words from Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." Those words are words of God's promise throughout the centuries. It was a promise that the Hebrew people clung to. When he said, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing," he was announcing the Kingdom of God - when all debts were cancelled, when war was over, when everyone felt safe. . . and was safe. The dream - the promise - was no longer something to be embraced in the future but in the here and now. The crowd was astonished. This was Joseph's son, a hometown boy. The word had spread that he was performing miracles, but Jesus? The Messiah? Then Jesus said one more thing that made them angry as Hell. He told them that the promise - the dream that they had been waiting for for their people - was much huger than they. It extended beyond their tribe. It was for everyone. They were infuriated.
We all have an investment in "our people" - people like us - being right and getting what we deserve. . . and others getting what they deserve (a jolly little trip through Hell). But God calls us to connection. God challenges us to see the dream and the Dreamer that extends beyond our limited worldview. We are called to connect on a profound level.
Paul Simon, in his CD Surprise, has a song called "Wartime Prayers." He sings about how just trying to muscle our way through each day doesn't cut it. He says, "Every family is scattered, every family is broken. When the wounds are deep enough, all we can do is wrap ourselves in prayer. And the prayer of every person around our globe is the same: that our children are safe."
We are connected through prayer, through hope, through the yearning for the Kingdom of God.
We are never alone on this journey. You are never alone because you are a part of this family. There will be hard times, impossible times, back-breaking times. But you will get through it because you are not alone. Your times of joy, of success, of finding open doors, of sheer love. . . will be much sweeter and much more powerful because you are not alone. You are loved. Even though you may, at times, feel like you are standing on a stage wearing very little - nothing to hide your wounds or hopes or fears, there for all the world to see - you are joined by, surrounded by, the family of God. Because that is what families do.