The blessing of Christ’s love is for all people–regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, national origin or
religious identity. Faithful discipleship in Christ calls us to extend welcome and hospitality to all.

That last phrase in the resolution of resistance to Christian Nationalism recognizes that welcome and hospitality are not just for those who are like me, or like you, like the in-group, but for the stranger, the one I fear, the one whose language or culture I’m not familiar with and are alien to me.

And even though it’s not the suggested text for this week, the story that came to mind for me was the Good Samaritan. One of the most familiar parables in the bible. A man who goes out of his way to care for an injured and violated person on the side of the road after a priest and Levite from that person’s own culture and religion had passed him by. By now we all know that Jews and Samaritans were, if not enemies, culturally suspicious of each other, viewed each other as other/outsider/unclean.

And because I thought of that story I thought about an experience I had when I was 21 or 22 and living close to downtown Winnipeg. On my way home from work one day I saw sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, leaning back against a fence, a young indigenous man who was bleeding. From his forehead and from his nose. His eyes were closed. He had clearly just had some kind of violent encounter.

I walked by.

For 25 years I have thought about that man with a heavy heart and wished that I had stopped. Wished that I had had the presence of mind to find care and help for him. A person who was indeed different from me. Outside of my understanding and unlike those in my circle. I was afraid. And for 25 years I’ve felt guilty about it.

For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matt. 5:47-48)

Be perfect!? That is the same scripture as we just heard a few minutes ago. Only I’m quoting the NRSV instead of the Common English Bible. And I’m reading it again and from this specific version because a) it’s what I heard for many years; The one that I’d have heard already many times as a 20-something-year old. It might also sound more familiar to you. And b) I’m quoting it because I think it’s wrong.

For so long I thought the bible was telling me I needed to be perfect. And not just any kind of perfect: as perfect as God. (Luke’s version of this says “Merciful”). How can we – any of us, even the perfectionists – ever be as perfect as God? It is a losing endeavor.

I give thanks to that same God for bible translators who know their business and offer us the translation that we read in the Common English Bible – the same version used for the Anabaptist Community Bible: “Therefore just as your heavenly Father is complete in showing love to everyone, so also you must be complete.”

Last week talked about the mustard seed growing into its ‘right-size’ – it’s that kind of thing – right size when it was able to offer food and shelter as a shrub. The tree is complete when it’s grown and becomes a place for the birds to roost. And because I now know that meaning and can release my perfectionism, I have become somewhat hard on myself. I continue to grow into my right size.

We can know that Jesus is talking about a complete love of God (vs perfect) and that this is a better interpretation for that original word teleios because of a couple of things. For starters, that ‘therefore’ at the beginning of the sentence points to a conclusion/competing statement. Jesus is summing up a whole bunch of examples that describe a whole, examples of how God’s love is indeed for all people, as our focus text for today says, across race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, national origin or religious identity. God is complete in showing love.

(Also there’s no word for perfect in Hebrew of Aramaic, so Jesus wouldn’t have used it. Anyway…)

In the Believer’s Church Bible Commentary on this passage Richard Gardner talked about that word meaning something like, “all that God intends.” We too, are called to all that God intends. Called to a right-sized love for all we encounter. A love that welcomes and includes and blesses “all people–regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, national origin or religious identity. Faithful discipleship in Christ calls us to extend welcome and hospitality to all,” as our focus text says.

It sounds, to be quite honest, very similar to any number of non-discrimination statements that businesses or churches have posted on their websites or in their information materials. It’s easy for those of us who are progressive, urban Christians to affirm. 

Those same non-discrimination clauses and statements that we may take for granted are what Christian Nationalism might now call ‘woke’ or radical. And they might be right! Radical in our hospitality is exactly what we are called to be. I think it’s worth highlighting some of the ways that the church has and continues to act with radical hospitality.

For example, I wonder if you have heard the story of Columbus Mennonite Church.

During the first Trump administration, Columbus Mennonite opened their church as a place of sanctuary for Edith Espinal. Edith was born in Mexico and and was being threatened with deportation. She had applied for asylum and was denied. Because she did not want to be separated from her family – she has three children who were then teenagers – Edith moved in to Columbus Mennonite Church.

Their website says this about Edith’s story and their motivation to be involved:

When Mennonites tell our history we remember a time when we too sought sanctuary from violence, and came to places like this country.  Now we are in a position to offer sanctuary. Our decision was grounded in this memory, along with one of the most basic teachings of any faith: “Love thy neighbor.”

Edith was in sanctuary for 40 months, well over three years.  On February 18, 2021, she left the church to report to the Columbus ICE office after officials pledged she was no longer a priority for deportation under guidelines from the new administration.  Church and community supporters showed up to celebrate with Edith as she emerged from this meeting able to return to the family apartment in Columbus with freedom of movement, without the imminent threat of detention or deportation.

With her attorney, Edith then began to seek permanent resident status. 

Conditions are different now, of course. Churches, including Columbus Mennonite, are less likely to open their doors as sanctuary spaces since this administration has been clear that sanctuary will not be honored.

And yet churches and neighbors continue to seek ways to offer safety and care for immigrant neighbors. Including walking around neighborhood schools and being a witnessing presence as families drop off or pick up their kids. Including (as I will this week) going to Boeing field, where deportation flights regularly leave, and being a part of the crowd witnessing and resisting the removal of our neighbors.

I often feel defeated. And also I remember that there is still hope in joining others in witness and resistance. 

And I will tell one other short story about movement toward completeness of love in action. 

In 2010 I was a youth pastor at SMC and was getting ready to take a year-long leave of absence so that our family could spend the year in South Korea. The church was searching for an interim and were contacted by Sarah Klassen, who was a recent graduate from Vanderbilt seminary, a cradle Mennonite from Kansas and in a committed relationship with another woman.

SMC was and had been a publicly affirming congregation but the idea of hiring a gay pastor – even an interim one – was still a big deal in the congregation and certainly in the context of the conference and denomination. There were congregations who had done it, but SMC wasn’t sure we were ready to face those headwinds.

I remember so clearly how we were shifted toward embrace. It was the youth. They caucused together during a congregational meeting and the made a statement about the importance of being welcoming, of creating space for a queer leader and of facing the difficulties that may come as a result of welcoming a lesbian pastor.

I will never forget – they even quoted the motto from Sarah’s home state of Kansas, Ad astra per aspera, “To the stars through difficulty,” reminding us that being a place and people of welcome may be a hard road but it is on the way to the right place. A place that loves completely, that is the right size.

I pray that we are growing toward a love that is complete. That that we do not seek perfection but wholeness. I pray that today I would find the creativity and the courage to respond to a person in crisis before me or to find someone who could do so. Though to be fair I have knowledge and resources and experiences that I didn’t have when I was 20. I’ve grown a little more complete in my ability to love in the last 25 years. 

I pray that together we too find ways to offer love that is just, that makes space for those that are excluded and othered by ideologies like Christian Nationalism. That we remember how completely we are loved and set aside our fear for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven. God loves completely, may we strive for the same.

As we close I again invite you to pray with me the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples. A prayer that turns toward the Kingdom of God and the way of heaven. That releases perfection and seeks and offers forgiveness. A prayer that put glory, honor and allegiance not in the kingdoms and nations of the world but in God alone. It is printed but I invited you to use the words most familiar and heart-centered for you. 

Let us pray.

Our Father in heaven, 

hallowed by your name.

Your kingdom come, 

your will be done, 

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our sins, 

as we forgive those who sin against us.

Save us from the time of trial 

and deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours 

now and forever. Amen.

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