SERMON Doorkeepers

Pentecost 11(C)(2007) Lectionary 19 :

Genesis 15:1-6; Psalm 33:12-22; Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16; Luke 12:32-40

The parable that Jesus tells this morning about the master returning and finding his servants alert is called "The Doorkeeper." This is something that I learned this last Thursday at churchwide assembly between communion preparation and usher training re-reading Joachim Jeremias' book, The Parables of Jesus.

Now "The Doorkeeper" might strike you as an odd name for Jesus' parable this morning because there is no doorkeeper in it. It turns out that it has this name because the author of Luke's gospel based this morning's parable on one in Mark 13 -- a parable that does have a doorkeeper in addition to the servants to keep watch. This explains a lot -- and not just about this morning's gospel.

When I was called to Wicker Park eight years ago this month, one of the first things the older members told me about was Doorkeepers. I could never place the name, and no one could explain it to me. They could however, tell me about the Wicker Park Lutheran group called Doorkeepers. Doorkeepers was a woman's group that flourished during (at least) the first half of the 20^th century. But it was not just any woman's group. From all I could gather, membership was by invitation only, and invitations and membership were highly prized. Doorkeepers did all sorts of things, charitable, fun, serious.

Until my re-reading of Jeremias last week, the name "Doorkeepers" -- because of the Wicker Park association -- suggested limited access: closed doors with vigilant doorkeeper guards posted outside.

Which, in a sense, was true of the churchwide assembly volunteers at Navy Pier last week who were assigned to be door monitors. Door monitors were told either to welcome persons into the assembly halls and designated areas or to bar them based on the color of their badges. This, the door monitors did with great efficiency and firmness, directing voting members, ecumenical visitors, and observers to their appropriate sections. (I think only former presiding bishops and current ELCA hierarchy were allowed to roam anywhere.) None of the monitors (and there 30 every shift) fell asleep on the job.

And at, first blush, this is what Jesus is saying this morning. "Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes." "Be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks," he tells them. In other words, "Be doorkeepers."

But Jesus is saying much more.

Part of the "more" of what Jesus is saying is reflected in what we hear from the author of Hebrews this morning.

The author of Hebrews is writing to a late first century Christian community whose members are, through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, part of the great nation promised to Abraham, participants God's history. It is a community that knows persecution, a community that has waited but still hopes for the imminent return of its Savior. And what we hear this morning is part of a little homily -- something of a pep talk -- to rally the troops.

What the homily is about is faith -- faith like Abraham's -- faith (we all recognize the words) that is "the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen."

The Greek word translated as "assurance" is the same word that is used earlier in Hebrews to describe the very being of God. It means that faith is the groundwork for all that we hope for. The word translated as "conviction" is in Greek a legal term for cross-examination or testing. So it is by faith that we can test the things unseen.

Having so forcefully defined faith, the author of Hebrews tells that late first century Christian community that it is this faith, and the faith of all those who have gone before, that has made them -- and makes us -- part of God's history and God's great nation. This is the faith that Abraham knew as he stood looking at the stars too numerous to count. This is faith that is for us, as it was for Abraham, pure gift from God.

But this is also the faith that is acted out in faithfulness. The great preacher William Sloane Coffin once noted:

It is terribly important to realize that the leap of faith is not so much a leap of thought as of action. For while in many matters it is first we must see, then we will act; in matters of faith it is first we must do, then we will know, first we will be, then we will see. One must, in short, dare to act whole heartedly without absolute certainty. (Credo 7)

And that was certainly true for Abraham. By faith, our Hebrews preacher tells his congregation and us, Abraham obeyed God's command "not knowing where he was going." With the other patriarchs, Abraham hoped for a holy city that none of them ever saw. None of them turned back. Instead, they "died in the faith without having received the promises [of seeing that city]" (Heb. 11:20). This is what our Hebrews preacher will go on so beautifully to describe as being "surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses" (Heb 12:1). Witnesses both to the faith and to faithfulness.

What this faithfulness means for us is spelled out by Jesus this morning.

It is recorded in a gospel written for a community, like the Hebrews community, living with the reality of persecution in anticipation of Jesus' return and the coming of God's kingdom. Probably in light of that persecution and anticipation, Jesus is recorded as advising, "Travel light. Sell your possessions and give alms" -- something our LVC'ers know about first hand.

But Jesus also says -- and this is not only for the LVC'ers but for us as well: "Keep focused on the kingdom that is coming," and, "Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit." In Greek, "be[ing] dressed for action" means "[to] gird up your waists" -- take the long skirt of your robe and tuck it in under your belt at the waist so you can have freedom of movement. And just as shorten robes enable movement, the lit lamps make vision at night possible.

Having told his disciples to be ready for action, day or night, Jesus tells them the doorkeeper parable. The master has gone to a banquet. The servants who are left behind are to be alert, keeping watch -- they are to carry out the master's duties in his absence -- and to be ready to open the door for the master when he comes. And we -- we, in this community of faith -- are to do that. Be alert, be engaged, like Abraham and the patriarchs, keep moving forward.

Do what Jesus would have done: by faith and in faithfulness, heal the sick, feed the poor, empower the powerless, advance the kingdom. Become part of the great cloud of witnesses.

But there is still more.

In the parable, Jesus describes what will happen when the master returns. He begins by saying, "VAmh.n -- the Greek word is the Hebrew word, "Amen," "So be it!" So be it that -- the master will gird up his waist and have the servants sit down -- and the Greek verb here is "make them recline" -- something reserved for special, important meals like Passover seders and Sabbath. The master will serve the servants that he finds ready and alert when he returns. The master will serve the servants!

The ending of this parable -- the astounding reversal of roles -- adds a new, almost radical dimension to the promise, faith, community, and faithfulness that were established with and through Abraham. It reminds us that the God of all creation, the creator of this and all other galaxies, the God who established a chosen people through Abraham in faith is also an incarnate God -- a God who, in Jesus, became a part of the history that the writer of Hebrews celebrates. A God who in that history, through his Son, reveals himself as faithful and just, compassionate and forgiving, served and serving.

For us as Christians, as members and friends of Wicker Park Lutheran Church, this means that we both serve and are served. We serve when, varied and as different as we are individually, we are faithful and just, compassionate and forgiving with one another. But not just with one another. As the body of Christ in the world, we serve when are faithful and just, compassionate and forgiving with those on this block and in the greater community. Faithful and just for all of God's creation. At the same time, we are sustained in faith by not only a cloud of witnesses (including generations of Doorkeepers!) who have gone before us but by a God who serves us in Word and sacrament in anticipation of the kingdom that is to come.

And it is here that door keeping takes on an entirely new dimension. We are doorkeepers here in this place to open the door to others. To welcome others as we have been welcomed. Our expression as the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America is similarly called. Perhaps not to let visitors sit in sections reserved for voting members, but called to open the door of the ministry of Word and sacrament to all those called and qualified, regardless of sexual orientation. The faithful and just, compassionate and forgiving master who serves asks no less of us. For that we thank God.

Amen

August 12, 2007

Ruth VanDemark, pastor

Wicker Park Lutheran Church, Chicago