Sermon 8/29/04
Where to Begin? - Luke 14:1, 7-14
(view lectionary notes for this text)
"Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me; let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be/ With God our creator, children all are we. Let us walk with each other in perfect harmony. Let peace begin with me; let this be the moment now. With every step I take, let this be my solemn vow: to take each moment and live each moment in peace eternally. Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me." This short and simply hymn by Sy Miller and Jill Jackson was written in 1955, and takes eighth place in our congregation's worship survey last fall.
According to their publisher's website (1), Sy Miller and Jill Jackson were a husband and wife songwriting team. "In 1955 they decided to write a song about their wish for world peace and what they believed each person could do to create it." Writers of a great deal of children's music, the duo introduced the song first to high school students attending a retreat in California, teens selected by Miller and Jackson who "were purposefully from different religious, racial, cultural and economic backgrounds. Their purpose was to create understanding and friendship through education, discussion groups and living and working together in a camp situation. Sy Miller wrote in his own words what happened:
"One summer evening in 1955, a group of 180 teenagers of all races and religions, meeting at a workshop high in the California mountains locked arms, formed a circle and sang a song of peace. They felt that singing the song, with its simple basic sentiment - Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me," helped to create a climate for world peace and understanding.
"When they came down from the mountain, these inspired young people brought the song with them and started sharing it. And, as though on wings, "Let There Be Peace on Earth" began an amazing journey around the globe. It traveled first, of course with the young campers back to their homes and schools, churches and clubs. Then the circle started by the teenagers began to grow. Soon the song was being shared in all fifty states - at school graduations and at PTA meetings, at Christmas and Easter gatherings . . . It was a theme for Veteran's Day, Human Rights Day and United Nations Day . . . It was taped, recorded, copied, printed in songbooks, and passed by word of mouth. The song spread overseas to [Europe]. To South America, Central America, Africa, Asia and Australia . . .
"This simple thought, "Let There Be Peace on Earth, and Let It Begin With Me" first born on a mountain top in the voices of youth, continues to travel heart to heart - gathering in people everywhere who wish to become a note in a song of understanding and peace-peace for all [humankind]."
This simple hymn coincides in the life of this congregation with a strange gospel lesson - strange enough on its own, and strange when held up to the words of this hymn. The passage we read today from the gospel of Luke is a strange sort of etiquette lesson, as if Jesus is preparing us how best to eat out when we're invited over for dinner. Many stories in the gospels find Jesus at meals, dining with friends, religious foes, or the untouchable and unloved of society. The meal time was an important time, and Jesus used the images of sharing meals together or attending banquets to teach lessons that had deeper meanings. Today's lesson is no exception. We begin with Jesus going to the home of one of the Pharisees, religious leaders of the community, for a meal, and we read that the Pharisees "were watching [Jesus] closely," waiting for him to make some mistake. Jesus doesn't seem to mind, though, and instead starts in with some advice. When you're invited over to a wedding banquet - don't choose the best place - choose the worst. Why? Well, you don't want to be embarrassed and asked to move to a lower place so a more important guest can take a seat! Those who exalt themselves are humbled, but those who humble themselves are exalted. In the next example, Jesus advises that those who host a dinner should not invite relatives, friends, and rich neighbors, but should instead invited the poor, crippled, lame, and blind, those unable to return an invitation. Don't look for repayment from humans, Jesus urges, but from God, whose rewards much more valuable.
Jesus' advice, as usual, goes against some traditional understandings his dinner guests would have had. His suggestions might sound to us just like savvy suggestions for maintaining a good public image. But actually, behaving as Jesus suggested - choosing the lowest seat at a meal, missing an opportunity for recognition by inviting less-than-classy people to a meal - these actions would have made a person seem quite odd if not altogether offensive. It's hard to find something to compare this to today - our culture and customs are so different. But actually, as I spent time at the wedding reception of a high-school friend this weekend, I thought that perhaps things really aren't so different. At wedding receptions, guests are usually seated at numbered tables in assigned groups. The wedding party sits at the front table. The other guests are seated usually based on relationship to the bridge and groom. Family and close friends are at tables close to the front table. Those who are acquaintances are likely to be farther away from the action of the reception. Perhaps we can connect to Jesus' words after all.
And even within our own congregation, we perhaps have our own little seating system in order. Rev. Richard Fairchild suggested starting a sermon on this text by asking everyone to stand up and trade places and pew seats. Those who sit on the left would move to the right side. Though who sit in the back would move to the front. And vise versa. (2) I thought about trying this here at St. Paul's, but I feared that there might be a revolt, so I'll let you off the hook this time. But you can see that those people who attend here regularly tend to have "regular" pews as well, a place you can always find them sitting on Sunday morning worship.
These customs that we have, you might say, aren't necessarily bad. Even Jesus doesn't say that the practices he highlights are necessarily bad. What Jesus does is offer something different - an alternative way of behavior - a challenge that is both harder and more rewarding. It is this challenge that Jesus issues that I want to tie into our hymn focus for today. In my childhood, my mother, here to attest to the fact today, would chide me and my brothers for fighting by saying, "how do you expect to have world peace if you can't even get along with one another?" Her point was the same as the point of the hymn we sing today. We say we want peace in our world, in our lives. But where does peace begin? "Let it begin with me" our hymn repeats. World peace is a daunting task to attempt to accomplish. Peace in ourselves and in our actions toward others is something we can and should be working towards -because only when we ourselves are vessels of peace can peace be the way of the world around.
In Jesus' strange teachings today, I think he shares a similar message. As Christians, we want to end hunger and poverty. We want everyone to get enough, we like to see people on generally equal footing with one another. We want everyone to be invited into God's kingdom, right? But what an overwhelming task! Where do we begin? Again, the answer, Jesus tells us, is to begin with ourselves. If we want others to have more - others to have more than the nothing they've had for so long, we must begin by taking up less ourselves. If we want others to be invited in, we must make room at our own parties, so to speak. If we want everyone to share equally in this world, we have to begin by going with less. It begins with you. It begins with me.
Beginning with ourselves, in our own lives, is a task we can actually work on. We don't have the excuse that something is too big or too far away or two disconnected from our lives to make changes. We can change our own lives and the way we live. And as the saying goes, when a butterfly flaps its wings on one side of the world - the movement triggers a storm on the other side of the world. You can be an agent of peace. You can be an agent working to end world hunger. You can be a missionary who welcomes the stranger. You only need to begin right here, right now, in your own life, to follow Jesus, to become a disciples. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled. Those who humble themselves will be exalted. Come and see what God has promised. Come, let's begin. Amen.
(1) Jan-Lee Music, http://www.jan-leemusic.com/
(2) Rev. Richard Fairchild, http://www.rockies.net/~spirit/sermons/c-or22su.php