The Reverend Barbara K. Briggs
September 27, 2009
The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 20, Year B

For the past six months there has been a black cat hanging around our house, meowing, night and day.  It is an annoying meow that goes right through the walls of the house.  He hangs out on the back deck, the picnic table, the front steps, anywhere he thinks he’s got an angle for a quick and surreptitious entry.  Occasionally, when the door is open to let in groceries, mail, or people, the cat scoots in and makes a dash for the food dish belonging to our cat, as if he’s known we’d been hiding it from him all this time.  He’s big and strong, and it takes some effort to get him out of the house again.

After a while I learned his name:  Mickey.  Opinions were divided as to whom he belonged.  Everyone in the neighborhood seemed to have a different idea as to which family actually owned the cat, but they were all clear that it was not a stray.  When I finally found out to whom he belonged, I told the owner that I had almost taken him to the animal shelter.  The next day he showed up with a nice, new red collar and tag.  I’ve captured him and taken him in our cat cage back to his home more times than I can count.  He keeps returning.  He’s tenacious:  willing to forgo his meals and a warm bed to camp outside our house in the hopes of making it inside.  He’s adopted us and it doesn’t matter to him that we don’t want him.  He’s made his choice and he’s sticking by it, no matter what the personal cost.  He wants to belong to our family.

Have you ever wanted to be included in a group so badly that you were willing to do almost anything to get in, to belong?  From a very early age, we want to belong, but the fear of being disliked or rejected makes us hesitant to go toward the stranger.  It would be easier if they took the risk and came to us.  This is why radical hospitality takes an effort on our part.  Going toward the stranger is risky.  We have to work at it and be intentional about it in order to overcome our sometimes deep-seated fear of rejection.  Mickey doesn’t care what we think or how many times we take him back to his house.  He wants to come in our house.  He’s camping at the door if that’s all we’ll allow, but he’s not leaving.  His choice comes with a cost and he’s willing to pay it.

The disciples were complaining to Jesus about some outsider acting as if he belonged.  He was casting out demons in Jesus’ name, but he was not a part of the “in crowd.”  He was not one of the disciples who went about with Jesus day in and day out.  They were concerned with making sure that their inner circle was protected and that their status as special members of an elite group not be jeopardized by outsiders.  Jesus reassures them that they don’t need to worry.  This man is part of the group, too.  He tells them, “Whoever is not against us is for us.”

But this belonging has consequences and is not to be taken lightly.  It is not a matter of convenience.  It is a choice that comes with a cost.  At some point, following Christ is no longer about trying to be accepted, included, or taken in.  At some point, we realize that in order to take our belonging to Christ seriously, we have to take our belonging to one another seriously.  The wellbeing of the community (any community, it doesn’t matter if it’s your family or your country or your church), depends on the personal investment of each of us.  Unless we each invest ourselves, take a risk and start taking personal responsibility for the wellbeing of the whole, we risk losing the very thing we seek.

Jesus was strikingly clear with the disciples about the importance of their choice to belong.  They couldn’t have it both ways.  He warned them that if something caused them to fall away from their choice to follow him, they were to eradicate it from their life, even if that meant losing a body part.  I don’t think that Jesus is telling us to start maiming ourselves when we are not faithful to our decision to follow him.  I do think he is telling us to stop fooling ourselves.  We either want to belong and will do everything in our power to live accordingly, or we put it off, use delay tactics, or tell ourselves we’ll do it when the conditions we have set for ourselves are met.  What if those conditions are never met?  How long will we be satisfied with playing things safe?  How long will safety win out over adventure?  When will we finally take a risk and invest ourselves?

Following Christ, serving Christ, loving Christ and loving one another is risky.  It is not a spectator sport.  No one else can do it for us.  It means letting our desire to belong outweigh our fear.  It means letting go of playing it safe, whether we are playing it safe financially or personally.  It means investing ourselves and standing behind our choice, even if it means we need to shift our life-style in order to make it possible.

Mickey the cat has shifted his life-style.  He camps outside our house now because he wants to come in and he’s taking all the means necessary to make that a possibility.  He’s investing his whole self in his choice, and he will not be dissuaded.  What if we were all as resolute about our choice to belong to Christ as Mickey is in his persistent efforts to get into the Briggs’ house?  This place would be on fire.  Nothing would be impossible.  A hungry, hurting world would not just be drawn to our doors, but would be fed, healed and sent forth to carry the light of Christ.  At the very least, we would no longer be worried about the budget.

So, will we play it safe and engage in endless rationalizations, or will we join the adventure and get in on the action?  If we can count on anything, we can count on Christ’s desire and efforts to bring us in the house and give us a family.  He will do anything to help us let go of whatever is holding us back but he won’t pry our fingers off by force.  We have to loosen our grip.  That’s all.  Just loosen our grip a little, and he’ll help us with the rest.

Amen.

Copyright © 2009 by the Reverend Barbara K. Briggs