Text — Mark 9:43-48

If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire.   And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell.   And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell,  where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.

When Jesus says, “If your eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out,” that doesn’t mean, literally, gouge your eyes out.  I think we can all agree on that.  He’s saying, “We can see things in a way that causes us to stumble.  We can see things in a way that misses something important.”  

A week ago, in the frozen food aisle at the Stop and Shop, two women were standing and talking.  I was after the frozen spinach, which required me to sort of squeeze behind them, and in doing this I couldn’t help overhearing what was said:

Woman #1  I pulled into my driveway, my neighbor came over and said, “How do you like your new car.”  (pause)  I told him, “It’s not a new car.  It’s a used car.”  And he said, “Well, it’s new to you.”   Well, I’m not stupid.  Everyone on our street buys new cars, and I’m the only one who bought a used car.  I don’t see why he needed to rub it in. 

Woman #2  Maybe he was just trying to be friendly. 

Woman #1  If that’s being friendly, he can leave me out.” 

You’ve often heard me talk about the “lens” we use to see the world.  What lens was this woman seeing through?  Maybe her lens was her feeling: “I’m poor.”  So when she heard what sounded to me like an innocent greeting, she heard it as a way of saying, “you’re poor” and this seemed to be, for her, a reason for shame, and it made her hurt and angry. 

Many of us have had eye exams.  As part of that exam, the doctor puts different lenses in front of your eyes and says, “Better or worse?”  I didn’t do at the supermarket, but I felt like offering this woman at the Stop and Shop a different lens, and you can probably imagine what that sermon would have been:  “Your value as a person isn’t about buying a new car.  If anything, buying a new car is a waste of money.  Your neighbor was just offering a way to start a friendly conversation.  The way you’re choosing to see the world is determining the kind of world you get.”  And in this case, the world she was getting was one she didn’t seem to like all that much.

Last week, I talked about how murky and complicated and ambiguous our world is.  And I mentioned as one example of this murkiness what’s been going on with the front steps of our church.  Sandra wrote an article about this in the next Tidings that you’ll get next week, but I’d like to touch on this again, because it’s just a perfect example of seeing through a particular lens and stumbling. 

When the coffee shop opened across the street, people started bringing their coffee over to sit on our steps.  It’s a nice place to sit on a sunny afternoon.  We said, “Fine.  Welcome.”  We wanted to be hospitable. 

Then litter started to be a problem, so we put out trash cans.  It seemed like the right thing to do.

And then, a more troubled crowd started to appear.  I say this from having met many of them on the front steps.  I gave a number of tours of the sanctuary.  Sandra did too. 

Some of them had alcohol on their breath.  Some told me they’d had drug problems in the past.  One of the regulars out there was a young man who came to worship here the Sunday after he got out of jail.

Well, ere’s one kind of Christian lens:  In the Bible, we often see Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners — outcasts.  He didn’t shun them.  He got to know them.  And so, it seems reasonable to suppose that that’s what followers of Jesus should do too. 

Sandra and I took this very much to heart regarding the crowd on our front steps.  One afternoon we sat together on the front steps of the church for a long time, as a way of following Jesus.  We were a little disappointed actually, because no one came that day, or at least during that hour.  Maybe we looked too scary.

Most of you know how this story developed.  Our front yard has become a prime market for drug traffic.  This last week I found a syringe.  I’ve found other things I don’t even want to mention.  So after much pleading from all the businesses around us, including the coffee shop, we finally gave the Middletown Police permission to explain to people, including both responsible and not so responsible ones, we’re sorry, but you can’t sit on the front steps of the church anymore.  We can’t be out there 24 hours a day, trying to make judgments about who’s responsible and who is not. 

What does this have to do with our Christian lens?

Maybe we didn’t take Jesus’ teachings far enough.  Maybe we should have sat out there longer, all day, or all night.  

Or maybe we used the wrong lens in this case.  Jesus ate with sinners, true.  He also told people they were going to hell.  He cleansed the temple, saying “You’re turning the house of prayer into a den of robbers.” 

Maybe we didn’t take Jesus’ teachings about “eating with sinners” far enough.  But maybe, given all our other commitments, that just wasn’t possible.  Maybe we created a bigger problem by trying to be hospitable to people who didn’t come for our hospitality.  Maybe they came because it was a place to get away from the law.

But there is actually some good news in these stories.

For one thing, being a community of faith means we don’t have to grope our way through the darkness alone.  We can see more clearly together than we can see alone, individually.  In matters like the one I just described, I always look for the opinions of people who work in the drug treatment field.  In situations like this one, they tend to see from a different perspective than I do.

This sort of vision enhancement goes on in our church a lot — in Sunday morning Bible study, or the Jacob Group, or the Red Tent group, and even when we share joys and concerns here in worship. 

On Oct. 30, we’re going to have a conversation among parents about the struggles and tough decisions in being a parent.  What much television should they watch?  How much money should they have?  How much should we demand of them?  What battles should we fight?

The other piece of good news is, “God is merciful.”  We don’t, and we won’t, see everything there is to stumble over.  Things don’t always turn out the way we want them to turn out, even when we’re careful, and trying to keep our eyes open.  You may say to your neighbor “how do you like your new car” and your neighbor can feel insulted.

We have many opportunities for error — ministers included, maybe ministers especially.  I dare say, one of the things that makes ministry exciting is that there are so many pits to fall into. 

But God is merciful, and we can extend mercy to each other when we do stumble.  Light and mercy.  They’re available.  This is the gospel.