Amish take the Sabbath seriously. Very seriously. On Sunday, their businesses are closed, only the most basic chores are completed, and everyone goes to worship. At first glance, their community seems to be in perfect harmony with the rhythms of work and rest. But the Amish lifestyle does not mean peace for everyone.
The Amish straddle a fine line with their non-Amish neighbors, referred to as “the English.” While they are intentional about restricting outside influence upon their way of life, the Amish impact the lives of others, especially in a small community. Some of these influences are minor inconveniences, such as horse manure on the roads. Others, however, are quite jarring. Though the Amish do not drive gasoline-powered vehicles, they do hire huge trucks and other pieces of large equipment to build their homes, farms, and businesses. I spoke with one “English” neighbor who bitterly complained that the Amish have inundated their peaceful community with a barrage of loud machinery. Now there is something I never expected to hear.
Despite my initial impression about their practice of the Sabbath, the Amish are not even at peace among themselves. Shortly before I arrived to the area, their community split over a theological issue. There was a charismatic movement among a few families who demanded to be re-baptized by immersion. The more traditional Amish balked, so some families “jumped the fence” and are no longer part of the community.
Let me be clear that I admire and respect much about the Amish. Rather than criticize their lifestyle, my point is that even a strict adherence to the Sabbath does not necessarily translate to peace and harmony. Furthermore, I certainly do not wish to appear overly critical of others because there is a great deal of tension and the potential for schism in my own tradition.
During my first summer at New Dublin, the Presbyterian Church of the United States of America was embroiled yet again in the controversy over the ordination of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people. Our general assembly passed an amendment to the ordination standards, which meant that the proposal was sent to the presbyteries. This process is roughly analogous to the United States Congress approving an amendment to the Constitution and needing ratification from the states. In the PC (USA), Amendment 10A passed in 2011.
The goal of the amendment, as I understand it, was actually to make the standards for ordination more reflective of a person’s total commitment to the faith. The language of Amendment 10A required each person to “submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ” as part of the requirements of ordination. I find it ironic that many of those against this change would fully support such a statement in other contexts. In this case, opposition arose because the new language replaced the ordination standard known as the “fidelity and chastity” clause, which mandated fidelity in marriage and chastity in singleness. Since marriage is defined exclusively between a man and a woman, this clause effectively barred people in same gender relationships from ordination.
For me, this national debate was deeply personal; several of my dearest friends could not serve the church they love with their talents, hearts, and minds because of the gender of the person whom they loved. I support Amendment 10A so that all may serve who are gifted by God for ordained ministry. Though I realize the debate is divisive, it is my opinion that ultimately our church will become stronger, larger, and more faithful because of the gifted individuals who are now able to serve alongside us.
Opinions about this amendment vary at New Dublin. We have both card-carrying Republicans and bumper sticker Democrats. Though I am to the left of the majority of my parishioners on the issue of homosexual ordination, I try to be respectful to every single person. For many on both sides, this issue hits close to home. Regardless of one’s opinion about an amendment, always remember that an issue may have a face, and that face may be a loved one.
While everyone is not going to agree, we can strive for unity—we can continue to worship and work together in ministry. New Dublin understands this better than most churches I’ve encountered. It seems to me that our ability to live together, despite our differences of opinion, is related to our practice of Sabbath.
During the spring and fall, New Dublin Presbyterian Church makes time for “lemonade on the lawn.” Immediately after worship, we gather under the canopy of oak trees outside of the sanctuary. Perhaps we have other places to be; maybe we have important responsibilities elsewhere. But we stop, at least for a moment, and we drink lemonade, eat cookies, and talk to each other. People who disagree on any number of issues still shake hands.
Before our country church is hopelessly stereotyped, I must maintain that our parishioners are just as busy as anyone else in our community. In fact, we seem to get busier all the time. While I was active in sports as a child, it is routine for today’s youth to practice a musical instrument, attend an after-school meeting, and play a sports game on the same day. When I was growing up in North Carolina, we did not even have practice or rehearsal on Sundays. Today’s games start at the 11 o’clock worship hour. I hear parents talk about their dizzying schedules between work, school, errands, and other commitments. While there are benefits to each one of these activities, I think we can safely say that our society is not promoting the practice of Sabbath.
I also believe that there is a connection to be found between the lack of Sabbath-keeping and the increasing level of hostility in our society. There is so little time to stop and think. Little wonder, then, that the nuances of ethical issues rarely sink in. Our political polarization is the equivalent of the microwave meal: pre-packed and half-baked. Our public discourse consists of sound bites that we catch on the way to the next event. We have lost the ability to listen deeply because we are rushing out of the door with the car keys in one hand and the cell phone in the other.
Perhaps part of the solution to bitter partisanship is quite refreshingly simple. New Dublin Presbyterian cannot solve our country’s problems, but at the very least, we make time for lemonade on the lawn.
As the pastor, I admit that I work during this Sabbath time. I use lemonade on the lawn as an opportunity to hear about a family member in the hospital, get an update on a child away at school, and meet that neighbor whose been wanting to come to church. I can answer a question about the sermon or offer a personal prayer. In other words, lemonade on the lawn helps me with my job.
But as a Christian, I am incredibly grateful to be a part of a community that models a practice of Sabbath. We are journeying together and should make time to listen to one another. As a church, we need take each other by the hand . . . perhaps now more than ever.
“GOOD INNKEEPERS”
July 11, 2010
Luke 10:25–37
Jesus told a parable about a Samaritan who helped a person lying on the side of the road. The moral is to “go and do likewise” (Luke 10:37). There are thousands of poignant and beautiful stories of people throughout the centuries who helped victimized people. Many good sermons have retold one of these stories as a means of inspiring people to do the same.
But I imagine that everyone here this morning already has an idea of what it means to be a Good Samaritan. I would guess that many of you have your own personal examples when you or someone you know helped someone else in need.
So this sermon is going to try a new approach by focusing on a different character: the innkeeper. This morning, I’d like for us to put ourselves into the innkeeper’s shoes. We know what it means to be a Good Samaritan. What about the Good Innkeeper?
Jesus introduces the innkeeper rather late in the parable. The poor man has already been robbed and beaten; the priest and Levite have come and gone. The Samaritan has stopped and bandaged the man’s wounds. Almost at the very end of the story, the Samaritan took the injured man to the inn. Many of us, however, don’t follow the story this far. By this point, we have identified with one of the other characters, either positively with the Samaritan or negatively with those who passed by on the other side of the road. But there are others ways for us to identify with the parable; after all, there is another character.
Focusing on the role of the innkeeper in the parable helps me to identify with him. Notice that the innkeeper was asked to help in his usual place of employment; the Good Samaritan brought the man to the inn. He also gave money, so the innkeeper was trusted to be honest with his services. In addition,