March 9, 2008

A Meditation on John 10:16
by the Rev. James Schimmel, Guest Preacher

JESUS KISSES FROGS

(A much gentled hint that the time has come to consider an intentional ministry to all God’s people in reaching out and embracing the “others” of society including people who are often marginalized not only by society in general, but more specifically and more drastically by the “church” itself.)


Originally Preached at Central Christian Church
Warren, Ohio on October 28, 2007

Text: John 10:14 - 16


BEIN’ GREEN

[To be sung]

It’s not that easy be-in’ green,
having to spend each day the color of the leaves,
when I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow, or gold,
or something much more colorful like that.

It’s not easy being green.
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things,
and people tend to pass you over
‘cause you’re not standing out like flashy sparkles on
the water,
or stars in the sky.

But green is the color of spring,
and green can be cool and friendly like,
and green can be big like an ocean
or important like a mountain or tall like a tree.

When green is all there is to be,
it could make you wonder why.
But why wonder, why wonder?
I am green and it’-ll do fine.

It’s beautiful, and I think it’s what I want to be.

     -- Music and words by Joe Raposo

“And I have other sheep, that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice. So there shall be one flock, one shepherd.”

THE ENCHANTED GARDEN
(A Parable of Frogs)

God looked around at all of creation, and decided to make one very special place - an Enchanted Garden. So God formed a beautiful garden where the colors were brighter and deeper than anywhere else in all creation. The blues were truly royal, and the reds were brilliant crimson. Orange was a warm happy hue, and yellow was bright and cheerful. Indeed all the colors and shades of color were more beautiful than anywhere else in all creation. So it was with everything in the enchanted garden. The water was cool and clean, the trees bore the most delicious fruit. All was simply perfect in God’s Garden.

But as God sat and looked around at all this wonder, God noticed that the garden needed some living creatures to enjoy and love the Garden. So God looked out beyond the Garden and spotted hundreds, and thousands of frogs. “I will invite the frogs to live in my Garden,” God said. God spoke to the frogs and invited them to come and live in the Garden. “Oh no!” the frogs shouted. “We could never live there. It is too beautiful and we are just plain green frogs. Who are you to invite us there anyway?”

God said, “ I built this Garden. I am The Gardener. Certainly you are welcome to live here.” But the frogs just would not hear of it. “ We cannot live there” they repeated. “We are just plain green frogs.” So God decided to change all that. God went around kissing all the frogs, one by one, and then by the hundreds and by the thousands. Suddenly all the plain green frogs changed into beautiful princesses and handsome princes. “Now,” God said, “You can come and live in my Garden and feel at home there.”

So the beautiful princesses and the handsome princes moved into the Enchanted Garden and knew that they would be forever happy there. They loved the Garden and they loved the Gardener. But most of all they loved one another. As they looked at one another – all of them beautiful princesses and handsome princes – they really loved each other. They enjoyed everything about the wonderful Enchanted Garden. They sometimes wondered if the Gardener was really a beautiful princess or a handsome prince, but they could not be sure which one. Anyway they loved the Garden and the Gardener. And they loved one another.

Many years later, The Gardener came to the beautiful princesses and the handsome princes and said, “I have decided to invite another group of the frogs to join us in the Garden. “FROGS!” they all shouted almost in unison. “FROGS! FROGS????? – We don’t want any froggggggs in our garden. They are so greeeeeeeeeeeeeen!”

“But you were all frogs until I kissed you,” God said.

“Oh Gardener, that was such a long time ago. We are all beautiful princesses and handsome princes now. This is our Garden. We love it here, and we love one another so much. We don’t want those frogs in our Garden.”

“But they are my frogs, and I shall kiss them, and they will accept my invitation to the Garden,” God said. “There shall be one Garden, and one Gardener.”

So God went out into the fields around the Enchanted Garden and started kissing frogs.

 

Two Stories

Before we look at the text this morning, I would like to share two real life stories with you. The first story is about a teenage boy at Camp Christian and the second story is about a couple in Columbus named Vicky and Hughie.

One day as I was serving as a counselor at Camp Christian, a teenage boy approached me and asked me if we could talk. “Of course,” I responded, and asked him if he would like to go for a walk. I had learned that boys especially were more comfortable sharing if we were walking side by side than they would be if we were in a more face to face setting. “Actually, I would like to walk out to the vesper spot if you don’t mind,” he told me. We set out walking rather slowly to the vesper spot. We walked in silence. I was wondering if he was really going to open up at all as we arrived at the bridge leading to the vesper area. We sat down on the wooden planks that served as benches, and as we did he took a seat facing me. We remained in silence for a few minutes as he sat there staring down at his feet.

After a few moments he looked up at me, tears forming in his eyes. “God hates me,” he said. Then he added quickly, “Uncle Jim, why does God hate me?”
“First of all, God does not hate you,” I answered, “but why do you believe he does?”
“Because my dad told me so, and he hates me too.”
His father was am acquaintance of mine. I was taken quite by surprise at the young man’s statement about his father. “Tell me what happened,” I suggested.

This conferee began to tell me his story. For some time he had been struggling with his feelings and sexual orientation. Finally he came to the conclusion that he was gay, and after considerable inner debate decided to talk with his father about it. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his father glared at him in anger and disbelief. His father told him that it was not even possible that he was gay. When the son insisted that he was sure it was true, the father shouted his words of anger: “I hate you for that! You cannot be my son. And God hates you too!” With that the father stormed out of the room. I learned that this exchange took place just the day before coming to conference. As we talked in that vesper spot, this young man asked me over and over again, “Does God really hate me?” We talked together, and prayed together as I tried to assure him that God loved him. When we stood up, I gave this young man a big hug. As we started back to the cabin area, he said quietly: “Thanks for hugging me. I had thought maybe you would be afraid to even touch me.”


Vicky and Hughie were a couple living on the East side of Columbus. Probably in their forties, they found shelter in various semi abandoned houses and structures in the area. They came by our church periodically for simple food supplies and occasional articles of clothing. Frequently they stopped by for coffee and donuts which we kept on hand weekdays as well as Sunday mornings just for people who might stop by the church. Many street people and semi street people enjoyed that simple gesture. On rare occasions Vicky and Hughie would come into the worship service on Sunday mornings for a few moments. They did not stay through any service and usually left as noisily as possible.

One day as I was reading the paper a caption caught my eye. A man had jumped to his death from the Town Street bridge. It was Hughie. The article listed the funeral home that would be handling his burial. I called them and explained that though Hughie was not a member, that we did have some contact with him. I offered to do a service if the funeral director wished me to do that. He informed me that there would be no honorarium involved, and I assured him that I would not feel right accepting one even if offered. We agreed that I would conduct a service for Hughie.

On the day of the service I arrived about an hour early at the funeral home. Soon Vickie arrived. She was crying as she walked in but she smiled as I went to the door to greet her. Shortly a line was forming at the door. This was a phenomenon that was not anticipated either by the funeral director or myself. People on crutches, people in wheel chairs, people dressed in somewhat bizarre combinations, all started to come into the funeral home. Vicky’s face lit up as she saw them. She ran to the door. I decided to join her there, as the most interesting group of street people and semi street people – some sober some not; some clean, most not; some quiet, most not – started to fill the room. The funeral director had to bring in more chairs. As we told them the service was about to begin, they all took their seats, and the room fell into complete silence. Vicky sat in a seat in the front row immediately in front of the lectern.

I had barely begun to speak when Vicky’s hand shot up. “Preacher man, preacher man!” she shouted. “Yes Vicky,” I replied. “Do you think he knew I loved him?” “Yes Vicky, I think he knew that.”

A few moments later, her hand shot up again. “Preacher man, preacher man! Do you think he knew I loved him?” “Yes, Vicky, I’m sure he knew you loved him.”

A third time she threw her hand into the air, “Preacher man, preacher man! Are you sure he knew I loved him?” “Yes, Vicky, I’m sure he knew you loved him.” “Then why did he jump from the bridge?” she asked quietly.

I looked directly at Vicky at this point and said: “You know Vicky, sometimes people are really hurting inside. I mean really, really hurting, and we don’t even know it or know why. But sometimes that pain gets so bad we do really stupid things. Hughie knew you loved him, but a pain that was not at all your fault just got too big for him, and because he did not know what to do, he did something very stupid. When he jumped from that bridge he was trying to get away from the pain. But Vicky, he knew you loved him, and I believe that he really loved you too.”

Vicky sat there very quietly. I left the lectern , went over to her and reached down and kissed her on the cheek. “ God loves you too, Vicky.” She looked up at me with a big smile and said, “Thanks preacher man, I guess God must love me a whole lot.”
The entire room of people simply said, “Amen.”

Scripture Lesson
Let us hear the words of our Lord, Christ Jesus.
“I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me, as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep, that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice. So there shall be one flock, one shepherd.”
John 10:14-16 NRSV
 

Beloved, this is a good word about God.

Let us pray.
Dear Abba God, Help us to be gracious enough to accept your unlimited grace and humble enough to accept your unbounded love, especially since we do not really understand either of them. In Jesus name. Amen.

Now the prayer has been offered. Let the sermon begin.

JESUS KISSES FROGS

I am a frog. Ambivalent as to who I am, ambiguous as to what I am, often confused, sometimes hurt and angry, frequently profoundly lonely, I am a frog. I am usually found on the outside looking in at all the beautiful princesses and all the handsome princes in the Enchanted Garden. But I am, after all, only a frog.

I am Vicky, hurt and questioning if the man I loved even knew that I loved him when he took his life. I’m not much to look at, more often than not unwashed, sometimes loud and crude, but also looking for a safe place where I can be accepted and loved. I am a frog but I’m told that Jesus loves me. Can you?

I am a teenage boy, torn up inside because of my desires and feelings. I know that I am not “normal” by your standards, and when I tried to talk with my father when I him needed the most, he told me he hated me and that I could no longer be his son. He says that God hates me too. I am a frog, but I’m told that Jesus loves me. Can you?

I am the woman at the well. I am the woman of broken marriages, broken heart, broken promises, broken relationships. Even now I live outside your proper legal and moral requirements. I am foreign to you in so many ways. I am not acceptable to “good and decent” people. I am a frog, but I’m told that Jesus loves me. Can you?

I am a young African-American male. I am often angry and frustrated with white privilege. I resent knowing that if you see me on the street you see potential violence and fear me simply because of the color of my skin. I believe that you do not see me as a young man but specifically as a young black. If I am with several friends as you approach us on the sidewalk, I am sure that you will consider crossing the street. I am a frog, but I’m told that Jesus loves me. Can you?

I am the woman caught in adultery. I have been dragged out into the streets naked and thrown at the feet of Jesus by a mob of angry self righteous men who demand my death by stoning. I know deep inside that in this society of male domination that their attitude toward me is more because I am a woman than because of anything I have done. I lie there at the feet of Jesus humiliated, ashamed and terrified. But as I took into his eyes I finally see compassion. I am a frog, but I’m told Jesus loves me. Can you?

I am a leper, diseased in body and soul because my sickness has been declared punishment by God. I am outcast, untouchable, and I cried out to Jesus for healing. He touched me. Can you believe that? He touched me. I am a frog, but I’m told that Jesus loves me. Can you?

I am a gay man trying to live in a straight world. I only wish to be accepted for who and for what I am. I do not want you to try to change me, let alone condemn me. I struggle to be treated with the same rights and respect that all other people enjoy in a society that rejects me as perverted. I look to the church for understanding and as a place of safety and acceptance, only to learn that most of the church hates me more than the rest of the world around me. I am a frog, but I’m told that Jesus loves me. Can you?

My stories this morning are about the “frogs”. But the sermon is not about us frogs, it is about you, the beautiful princesses and handsome princes of God’s Enchanted Garden. You can provide a welcome place of safety and understanding, a place of haven and rest, a place of love and acceptance, a place of compassion and hope to all the “others” who as yet are on the outside looking in. Yes, my beloved, the sermon is about you. I envision you as the people of God’s Garden who can intentionally reach out to embrace all of us “others” that Jesus insists he will bring along, because we will heed his voice. Jesus kisses frogs. And so, beloved, can you. Amen and Amen!



Franklin Circle Christian Church
www.FranklinCircleChurch.org


 

Copyright 2008 -- The Rev. James Schimmel

Franklin Circle Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

1688 Fulton Rd., Cleveland, OH 44113-3096