I Don't Want To

A Sermon by the Rev. Ana Gobledale
Preached at the First Congregational Church UCC
Bellingham">

 

 

I Don't Want To

A Sermon by the Rev. Ana Gobledale
Preached at the First Congregational Church UCC
Bellingham, Washington
September 26, 1999

Matthew 21:23-32 (NRSV)

23 When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, "By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?" 24 Jesus said to them, "I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. 25 Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?" And they argued with one another, "If we say, 'From heaven,' he will say to us, 'Why then did you not believe him?' 26 But if we say, 'Of human origin,' we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet." 27 So they answered Jesus, "We do not know." And he said to them, "Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.

28 "What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work in the vineyard today.' 29 He answered, 'I will not'; but later he changed his mind and went. 30 The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, 'I go, sir'; but he did not go. 31 Which of the two did the will of his father?" They said, "The first." Jesus said to them, "Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. 32 For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.

 

First, I bring greetings from the members of the Plumtree Congregational Church in Zimbabwe. The church roof is on, the walls are painted, the windows and doors are in. Thank you again for your help. And I bring greetings from our two librarians and the 900 people who are members of the church's library. The library, which you all have so generously supported through your book drive, now holds 3000 books. Tod and I now are helping to establish libraries in several rural schools. So thank you all here at First Congregational Church in Bellingham. [Note: Our church sent half of its 1998 Fall Offering to the Plumtree Congregational Church to assist in completing the church building. And we have sent many books to support the library which Ana and Tod have begun.]

Let us pray, "God may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable unto you, our rock and redeemer. Amen."

Join me in Zimbabwe for a few minutes...

I've driven for two hours over dry dusty roads. The African sun has baked the land and quieted even the birds. I didn't want to come. I'm hot and thirsty. Before I have a chance to take a swig from my water bottle, I'm enthusiastically welcomed by a group of smiling church women. They have gathered here at the Matole church for our annual women's fellowship conference.

"This way. This way, Umfundisi," they beckon to me. "Umfundisi" is the Ndebele word for "Pastor". I follow around to the back of the classroom building which doubles as the church. With broad grins the women gesture to a large goat tied to an acacia tree.

"What do you think?" Mrs. Pahla asks.

Not sure of the topic about which I should be thinking, I extend a blank look.

"About the goat," she continues.

"It looks like a fine goat," I state, wondering what one looks for in a goat.

"Then you approve?" Mrs. Pahla asks.

"Approve?" I'm wondering what I'm supposed to be approving.

"This is our dinner."

"Aha! "

Now, in seminary they never taught me about sizing up goats for dinner at a church revival. But Mrs. Pahla feels assured by my responses, so the goat is quickly slaughtered.

Now, I didn't want to lead that poor goat to slaughter, so to speak.

Nor did I want to drive two hours down dusty roads. I don't look forward to sleeping on the cement floor of a classroom tonight with 20 other women. I don't want even think about hauling cold bathing water in a bucket tomorrow morning.

Actually there are a LOT of things I don't want to do in my ministry. I don't want to help deliver babies in mud huts. I don't want to visit the Hlomani's who are facing a third son dying of AIDS. I don't want to head out in the evening to the all-night vigil for Pretty Maphosa's infant son, Bismark, who has died from AIDS. I don't want people to die in my car, what happens because our car, one of the few in the community, often serves as an ambulance.. I don't want to prepare for a women's fellowship meeting where I'll have to hear the week's run down on relatives who have died from AIDS or numerous unexplainable ailments. I don't want to visit 9 year old Willet Dube and feel helpless that I can't help her get surgery for her eye cataract. There are a lot of things I don't want to do, a lot of places I don't want to go.

I usually keep quiet about my obstinacy and my desire to be disobedient. I write about it in my journal, and often mention my unwillingness to my husband Tod, perhaps hoping he'll bail me out! But it's surely no secret from God.

But through God's grace, I'm given a second chance, like the first son in our reading today. I get to apologize, and follow up on the request, and do what is pleasing in God's eye.

By the grace of God, I always go, well, almost. And the amazing thing is ... I'm ALWAYS glad I'm there. And I'm always glad I went. For when I act on God's call to action, I encounter God's grace, I encounter the face of Christ. And I am filled with joy and gratitude.

On the second day of the revival, Mrs. Pahla says we're going out to visit the son of a parishioner. As usual, I don't want to go. But I do. We are a group of about 12 church members. We walk through acacia groves, across a dry river bed, past numerous mud and grass round homes. The heat of the day is working on me. I enjoy a swallow of refreshing water from my water bottle.

"Almost there," Mrs. Pahla has repeated several times for about the last mile.

We finally arrive at the Moyo's home. Mrs. Moyo, a church deacon, greets us. Relief and gratitude cross her worn face. We enter a musty room, a round thatched mud hut. The women roll out grass mats upon which they sit. Homemade wooden chairs are brought for Mrs. Pahla and myself. A bed on one side of the round house holds a man. Noah Moyo is more like a shadow of a man. In his mid-thirties, he had been working in South Africa. The breadwinner for his family. Now he has come home to die from AIDS. His wife died last year. Victims of the AIDS epidemic that has already claimed the lives of about 20% of Zimbabwe's population, 2 million people.

We sing and pray together. The Spirit moves among us, replacing despair with peace, fear with courage, weakness with strength. Noah, his mother and his children,, are buoyed by our voices, our love, God's love.

To witness God's grace transform another. To see the hopeless be given hope. ..

The dusty road is forgotten. The slaughtered goat, the cement floors, the African heat, are all forgotten. In this moment of grace, I feel privileged to be present, to have been called down that road, and over that path, and into this home. I feel honored to see the face of Christ in Noah Moyo. God calls us into moments of grace. Moments when the clutter of the modem world clears and the noise quiets, and God's overwhelming peace enters and transforms the moment. Often for me, these moments happen way out at the end of a dusty road, after sleeping on a cement floor and approving the goat for slaughter, after crying with a family who has lost yet another loved one to ADDS. You each have your own roads to travel and tears to share. Those of you who have been church members for fifty-plus years have surely walked down many roads, shared many tears, known many moments of grace. Often these moments of grace happen after we've kicked and moaned and complained, and done it anyway.

I'm not suggesting this as a behavior type to follow -- the obstinate and hesitant do-gooder. I don't think the father in our reading this morning was very pleased with either of his disobedient sons. I'd rather be like Isaiah and jump up to eagerly proclaim,, "Here I am, Lord, take me." But part of being the best children of God we can be, is to continue to try to BETTER do God's will, to more often respond eagerly and without hesitation--in BOTH word and deed.

When we get over our initial resistance to doing good, when we get out and help someone, or graciously receive help from someone else. That's when we witness the powerful transforming grace of God, when we encounter Christ face-to-face. When we, like the first brother in our scripture reading, go out into the field, even when we don't want to, God's grace goes with us, Christ walks beside us.

We each can try to respond more quickly with the affirmative response God wants from us, quicker to respond "Here I am God, use me." We can learn to answer in the affirmative and readily carry out the action God calls us to perform. But in the meantime, we can do what we do not want to do, and meet Christ face to face.

May you each hear God's call to you today, and respond in both word and deed. May the light of God's grace shine upon you.

Amen