Homily for the Fourth
Sunday of Easter 7 May 2017
The Rev’d John R. Clarke, Rector
The Rev’d John R. Clarke, Rector
“All
who believed were together and had all things in common.” Acts 2:44-45
For Richard
and Dawnell Baptista it was a double whammy. Dawnell’s kidneys were failing. So
was their marriage.
To
save both his wife and his marriage, Richard donated one of his kidneys to Dawnell.
But
the Baptistas’ story doesn’t end there. Dawnell recovers. The Baptistas’ marriage
doesn’t. Three years after the operation, Dawnell files for divorce.
Complication:
Richard now wants his kidney back. But he’ll settle for its estimated worth ($1.5
million).
Triggering
the question: In a divorce, who gets the organs?
And
leading to the conclusion: In the sense that the kidney here is shared, you can
have things in common … until you don’t.
Like
the early Christian community. Luke records, “All who believed were together and
had all things in common” until, as history proves, they don’t.
That is
where we find ourselves today in debates about rights popping up just about
everywhere, including Christian-identified communities: The right to
discriminate on so-called “religious liberty” grounds. That tired and tiresome racist
canard: states’ rights. And hot off The
Congressional Record press, the right to affordable health care.
But
that first-of-its-kind Christian community — the camaraderie, the extensive welfare
programs made possible by redistribution of property and wealth? Obviously, except
as Utopian fantasy, it didn’t last.
Why? Success.
As the Church expanded, the interests of one group (let’s say, the original Jewish
Christians) competed with those of others (newer and more numerous non-Jewish
Christians). And the sticky-sweet ditty ─ “They
shall know we are Christians by our love” — so popular at the beginning, acquired a tinny edge
as time wore on.
And
yet, history doesn’t diminish the merits of the design, as early followers of
Jesus — fresh off their in-the-flesh experience of Jesus — challenge a society marred
by rampant inequality, a society that failed to provide what each and all are owed:
dignity, opportunity, security.
In
other words, the early followers of Jesus dreamed, organized, and worked to
replace what they saw as a death-spiral, profit-driven system of hoarding “possessions and goods” with a
human-needs-based system. “They would sell
their possessions and goods,” Luke says, “and distribute the proceeds to all,
as any had need.” Any. No one left behind. As any had need.
Now,
the elephant in the room: Was it socialism (“From each according to their ability,
to each according to their need”)? Not exactly, because of its limited scope.
Did it showcase socialistic tendencies? It’s fair to say so.
Is that
a bad thing? If you benefit from Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security or ever hope
to ─
socialistic programs by any honest assessment — you be the judge.
But,
if the early Christian community isn’t full-blown socialism, what is it? I’d call it “conspicuous
communality.”
Conspicuous:
highly-visible charity floating in a sea of brutal uncharity.
Communality:
community created and sustained by sharing and enjoying as much as possible in common,
while expanding the circle of the common good. The organizing principle that
drives virtuous communities and governments worthy of our support.
That
kind of community is what we’ll be talking about in a few moments when we welcome
Logan Harris as a newly-baptized person. “We receive you into the household of God,” we will state without
reservation.
Prior
to that, we will align Logan’s future to opportunities emanating from our
Baptismal Covenant. Note to our visitors: The Baptismal Covenant is a major
thing for Episcopalians. It's yuuuge, a Gold Standard of commitments that make “conspicuous
communality” possible.
Moreover,
we will answer on Logan’s behalf — and recommit ourselves by answering — questions
that leave the quality of life of all our neighbors and the planet hanging in
the balance. Questions like:
Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News
of God in Christ?
Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons,
loving your neighbor as yourself?
Will you strive for justice and peace among all
people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
Your response?
“I will, with God’s help! I will, with God’s help! I will, with God’s help!”
But,
you know, there’s one question we won’t be asking this morning. That’s because it
didn’t make its way into the Baptismal Covenant:
Will
you endeavor to betray the vulnerable when they most need your help?
Puzzling,
no? … because in the debate about the “American Health Care Act” passed by the
House on Thursday, when it comes to affordability, one rep (Mo Brooks of
Alabama) was uncharacteristically candid.
He
stated in no uncertain terms that only “good” people deserve low-cost, affordable
health care. Yes, “good” people. “People who lead good lives. They’re healthy,” he said. “They’ve done the things needed
to keep their bodies healthy. They’ve done things the right way.”
Just gobsmacking.
Because
Jesus, a "good" person by most accounts, was in the health care business. He even made it affordable.
And at a price few, if any, could refuse: free. Nary a nano-nickel.
What’s
more puzzling — given that some people who tout their Christian credentials support
this callous legislation — Jesus is notorious
for refusing to throw “not-good” people under the bus for causing their own
health problems.
Sure,
running your body into the ground is a terrible idea. I get that. But before he
sets out to heal anybody — and at no cost — does Jesus ever ask: “What’s your
Body Mass Index? Will you submit to a urine test? How much fiber is in your
diet?” And certainly no questions about Pilates.
For
example, when Jesus heals a blind person and the American-Health-Care-Act types
of his day protest because either the man or his parents — they charge —
caused his pre-existing condition, what’s Jesus’ response? He doesn’t back down
… which is his way of saying, “For God’s sake. Be happy for the man!”
So, can
you imagine there ever being a single instance when Jesus denies health care to
anyone with a pre-existing condition?
Actually,
there is one. A distraught woman begs Jesus to heal her daughter of a catastrophic
disease. Now, we probably think this shouldn’t be a deal-killer, but mother and
daughter aren’t Jewish.
That
turns out to be a problem … because Jesus (the Jewish Messiah) balks at treating
non-Jews (gentiles). At this point in his career, Jesus sees gentile-ness as a
pre-existing condition not covered by his services.
Channeling
his inner Ebenezer Scrooge — I was going to say Paul Ryan, but thought better
of it — channeling his inner Ebenezer Scrooge, Jesus goes so far as to dismiss
the woman, calling her a “gentile dog.” I’m not making this up. And I’m not
making up the woman’s response: “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from
their master’s table.”
Ouch!
Good
news: Jesus finds her argument persuasive, and he summarily heals the woman’s
daughter … providing fodder to those of a Christian bent bound and determined
to mount organized resistance to this legislation — legislation that will cause kids born with heart
defects … women with breast cancer … and long-in-the-tooth folks (like me) who
dare live so long … to lose their health insurance. And — make no mistake about
it — all to finance a hefty tax cut for the gold-plated rich.
Where.
Is Jesus. In a scheme like that?
Bottomline:
In the debates and blogging and pushback from all sides in the days ahead, when
it comes to a matter so dear to Jesus’ heart — affordable healthcare for all
(that just might look like a single-payer system) — the demands of Christian community
— the needs of our neighbors — compel us to ask:
Who is going to pay?
Who is
going to pay what?
Who wins?
Who loses?
Who
will thrive?
Who —
like the hapless kidney donor Richard Baptista — who will sacrifice that others
may live?
Amen.
