"Witness of Freedom"

"Witness of Freedom" FPC 5-16-10

Psalm 97, Acts 16:16-34

 This morning’s reading from the Book of Acts gets us thinking about some questions. Who’s really a slave? Who’s really free? And how is God at work in the church as a witness to the freedom God offers?

Like last Sunday, again we catch Paul and company heading to worship, “to the place of prayer.” On the way, they’re met by an exploited slave-girl making her owners lots of money by telling fortunes. But then the slave-girl starts following Paul and his companions around and shrieking, "These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation! These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation!" Well, I don’t know about you, but I cannot recall ever having someone shriek the good news to me. But again and again she shrieks. (And Paul is not grateful for the free church advertising.) Finally, he gets irritated enough and casts this repetitious demon out of her.

 The scene’s a good reminder, isn’t it? The church is called to be God’s instrument for releasing people from social and economic bondage. But, like Paul, we sometimes don’t act for justice immediately. We have to be badgered enough, irritated enough to do the right thing.

 In a sermon, seminary professor David Bartlett points out, “The reason women are on their way to their rightful place in the church and society is not because male leaders awoke one day and benevolently exclaimed: ‘Enough patriarchy! Time to share our leadership.’ We male leaders were nagged and demonstrated against until we got very much annoyed, and when the Spirit is with us we have been graced to use that annoyance for justice and not just build our defenses higher.

[Bartlett continues by saying] “I grew up in two churches which integrated for the first time during our years there. The reason we integrated is not that the Board of Deacons set out to build a multi-racial church. We integrated because some black people who seemed awfully pushy walked down the aisle at the time of invitation and declared their intention to join. And in one case, turned down the first time, they came back and marched down the aisle again. Lots of people became very much annoyed, but those who were very much annoyed also knew that it was God who was annoying them, and moved that church toward justice.” (David L. Bartlett, “A Public Faith” sermon, 1993.)

Is that yelling we hear from the gay and lesbian community? Is that shrieking we hear coming from Arizona?

 After the girl is freed from her bondage, it's her former owners turn to be irritated. They grab Paul and Silas and drag them into the marketplace, bringing trumped up charges against them. Then the crowd attacks them. The magistrates have Paul and friends stripped and then beaten with rods. Then they have them thrown into prison, stuffed into the securest cell, feet fastened into stocks. Lied about, unjustly accused, stripped naked, beaten almost to death, thrown into prison. Wonder what would you and I would do if this happened to us? Whine and cry? Complain to God?

What do Paul and Silas do? They pray and sing hymns of praise to God while the other prisoners listen. (Some people never miss choir rehearsal.) You see, though they seem to be imprisoned, Paul and Silas prove they are truly free.

Sometimes the Christian witness of freedom is illuminated best in the painful light of adversity. When suffering is deep, when conditions are miserable, when hope seems gone, that’s the very moment Christian witness can shine as a light in the darkness.

Think about Martin Luther King Jr. Besides his eloquence, what was so powerful about him? His witness in the midst of adversity. His loving response to those who hated him and the movement he stood for was a Christian witness of freedom that attracted others.

What was so awesome about theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer who stood against Hitler and was hanged by the Nazis? Besides his brilliant writing, it was Bonhoeffer’s gentle response to the guards who held him. It was the way he approached the gallows; one guard said he’d never seen anyone so calm in facing death. Bonhoeffer’s last words before his death: "For me this is the end, the beginning of life."

 But none of us is likely to face that kind of ordeal. Our adversity will be less dramatic, but our response just as important. Some of us will face troubles at work or school–maybe a co-worker, supervisor, student, or teacher who treats us unfairly. Others will struggle with relationships gone sour. A chronic illness or traumatic accident. And the normal annoyances and inconveniences of life, waiting in line, driving in traffic, dealing with people who’re rude. How do we respond to the great and small difficulties we encounter? With rage or with Christian patience? With weak resignation or with strong hope in Christ? When Christians answer their problems with the power, peace, and hope of faith, the world will be affected. When you and I tackle our problems with faith, people outside the church will be affected in ways we cannot predict. Paul and Silas model a Christian witness of freedom in the midst of adversity.

There’s a third witness of freedom in this story. The jailer wakes to find the prison doors open. He assumes the prisoners have escaped. So he draws his sword ready to kill himself. Now when Paul sees this he could very well say to himself, "Serves you right. You're getting what you deserve." But instead Paul calls out to save the man. The jailer is moved by Paul's kindness. And then he himself becomes a witness by his own kindness to Paul and Silas. The jailer washes their wounds. Then he takes them into his home and sets food before them.

Here's another good model for the church. Though it's important what we believe as Christians, it’s even more important how we practice kindness and hospitality. Right belief is important for our witness, but hospitality more so. Hospitality breaks down our tendency toward division. And hospitality opens us up to each other, especially those who are new. People are not likely to join a church because they think, "By gosh, Esther, I've never heard Calvin's theory of double predestination explained so lucidly." People join the church, and they stay, because they experience hospitality. They sense they’re important to the members. They’re cared for. Their wounds, the wounds life gives us all, are delicately tended. And the hunger we all feel for God's presence, and each other's presence, is fed. Hospitality is making sure people's needs are met. And when the jailer comes to have faith in Jesus Christ, he becomes a witness by showing hospitality.

 Then there is a last witness in the story. Before the jailer practiced hospitality for Paul and the others, he made a public confession of faith (just as our new members will do today). And he and his family were baptized--a publicwitness of freedom in Christ.

 It's a healthy paradigm for the church. When we go out into the world, we go with power, peace, joy, and hope in adversity. We go out with kindness and hospitality. And we go out with public pride.

Paul said, "I am not ashamed of the gospel.” Neither are we. We go out to talk with pride about our church, our denomination, and especially our Lord. It might do us good to make a mental list of the things that are right with our church, things we would be proud to tell someone about.

 To go out with pride means saying modestly but publicly how our faith influences what we do, how we live. People need to know why a business person decides to treat her employees fairly. They need know why she chooses not to engage in shady practices. The world needs to know why we rear our kids the way we do. The world needs to know we’re concerned with the environment not because we want to go along with what's popular but because God has made us stewards of God's world. The world needs to understand why there is a People to People, a Wee Care, a Bridges of Hope, a MOCA project. People need to know why we act, talk, and think as we do, because we are followers of Jesus Christ. We are Christ's witnesses of freedom.

 More than twenty years ago, a friend of mine preached a sermon while we were in seminary. I don't remember much about the sermon. Except I remember he told about going to a restaurant one evening with a group from the seminary. When it came time for the meal, for the blessing the group all stood and sang the doxology. All over the restaurant heads turned in their direction, people whispered. "And” said my friend, “I tell you it felt good. It felt good."
 We are witnesses of freedom in Christ--responding to social and economic bondage, in adversity, in kindness and hospitality, publicly. To be a witness to freedom in Jesus Christ feels good. It feels very good. Amen.