August 16/20, 2006
Proper 15B
The Rev. Kristie Hennig
Luke 19: 1-10 "Come Down"
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Our gospel story for today about the vertically-challenged Zacchaeus is not the one appointed for today by the lectionary. But I have included it in our worship today because it helps me tell the story of El Salvador...at least it helps me tell a part of what I learned and experienced in the ten days of my mission-study trip.
Children love this story because the main character is someone they can relate to. He's short. Too short to see what's going on when crowds form, his view blocked by a forest of taller folks in their flowing desert garb who find his tugging on their sleeves for information an annoyance. When the wandering teacher and healer from Nazareth comes to his town, Zacchaeus hitches up his own robes and does an end-run around the crowd. He doesn't care how undignified or comical he looks running down the narrow streets, his white ankles exposed, his little legs churning up the dust. He is determined to get a good seat for this parade. He finds it in the upper branches of an accommodating sycamore tree. Maybe he hopes the Teacher will notice him up there on top of the world. Maybe he hopes to remain unseen, anonymous, an observer only. Jesus, meanwhile, who had been walking for some time, has every reason to care more about his feet and where he is headed next than to notice the antics of this unsavory little man. With each dusty step towards Jerusalem, Jesus must have been contemplating the fate that awaited him there - betrayal by his closest friends, torture and a cruel death at the hands of the junta of Roman and Jewish authorities. Yet as he approaches the gates of Jericho he lifts his head...and notices something moving in the branches of a stately old tree. His eye meets Zacchaeus'... and in that moment, Zacchaeus is changed forever. "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down," are the words Jesus uses. His tone is urgent: his time on earth is growing short and there is much to do to bring in the kingdom of God. "Hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today." Jesus invites himself to be the houseguest of the least favorite citizen of Jericho, the godfather of organized graft, and it doesn't sit well with the townspeople. Zacchaeus has to be astonished at this opportunity, but he doesn't miss a beat. He climbs down out of his perch to extend Jesus a warm Jericho welcome, and goes one better: he acknowledges Jesus as Lord. It's a miracle, Luke is saying...a miracle that the conniving Zacchaeus does such an about-face. For Jesus had just used another rich power broker - the one we remember as "the rich young ruler" - to illustrate how tough it would be for the privileged class to feel their need for the new life he was bringing. "How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God. Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God." (Luke 18:24-25) Yet here was such a rich man, who, thinking he was seeking Jesus, discovered that in reality it was Jesus who was seeking him. Zacchaeus is a colorful character, of course, and an example for us of openness and faithfulness. But it is Jesus who is the hero of this salvation story. It is he who comes to announce and embody the good news: God is doing a great thing today! This is the time of deliverance and redemption. This is the time to open our eyes and see what God is doing all around us. When even one person is offered forgiveness, hears a word of affirmation, clings to hope that life can be different, or resolves to live by a new set of values going forward, there is the kingdom of God at work. Which brings me at last to El Salvador. For Jesus noticed a bunch of rich gringos hanging out in a tree watching the world go by and called to us, "Hurry and come down." So we hurried down on Mexicana Airlines to Central America and were happy to welcome Jesus, who was waiting for us there, at home with the poor. The country of El Salvador sits just a few degrees north of the equator. With 6.6 million people inhabiting an area the size of Massachusetts, it is the most densely populated country in Central America. It is also the country most at risk environmentally. The landscape - green now in the rainy season - is studded with volcanoes, and it is frequently in the path of devastating hurricanes and earthquakes. A brutal twelve-year-long civil war took an estimated 70,000 lives. Though it officially ended in 1992 with the Peace Accords, which legitimized the popular guerrilla movement as a viable political party, a kind of national post-traumatic syndrome still hangs over survivors. It has been said that Salvadorans are security-obsessed. By some estimates, 1 in 3 own firearms. Armed police and security guards like this man were a common sight. Despite aid from foreign governments (principally the U.S.) and a steady stream of direct remittances to family members from Salvadorans who have found their way to North America, half of the people in El Salvador live below the poverty line. The average yearly income for those fortunate to find work is $2,350...compared to $41,000 in this country. Violent crime is a serious problem, both in the urban core and the rural areas. And while access to water and electrical power is widespread and most roads are passable, the country's solid waste treatment program is woefully inadequate to handle the garbage generated by six and a half mission people. Standing tall in a witches' brew of intractable problems, the people of El Salvador are the country's richest resource. Serious and hard-working by nature, Salvadorans are direct, friendly, and generous. Their hospitality is warm and genuine. When the Lutheran Bishop, Medardo Gomez, warned us to be careful of robbers, his eyes twinkled: "Salvadorans will steal your heart," he promised. He was right. They did. My reason for going to El Salvador was to see for myself what all the excitement was about. When Ron and Elaine Larson and John and Ann Curtis from this congregation heard Jesus call to them, "Hurry and come down," they went. They climbed out of their trees, went down to El Salvador to live with the poor, and came back to share their story with the rest of us - their eyes shining. Curious, I decided to "come down", too. I wanted to experience El Salvador first-hand and meet the leaders and students we'd been praying for. I wanted to check on Family of Christ's investment in the work of the Salvadoran Lutheran Church. So I joined a mission study group that had formed around Pastor Kristian Johnson. We all wanted to visit the work that for which he and his pastor-spouse had been generating resources for some seven years or so. Jesus was calling, as I now know. Calling me out of my comfortable tree...to come down to El Salvador. |           |
Here is Maria Trinidad, who leads an all-volunteer staff in running Hope House, a ministry to the homeless in one of the poorest neighborhoods of the capital city. In addition to Hope House, Doņa Trinidad and her 15-person household run the guest house where our group stayed, the Casa Concordia. Her remarkable story of loss and resurrection is one I will tell you another time.
Here is the pastoral team of Pastor Matias, Pastora Martina, and Sister Edis. Together, they founded four congregations among refugees from the civil war living up in the hills above San Salvador. They, too, have amazing stories which will have to wait for another time. Pastor Matias has only a 3rd grade education and still suffers from the wounds he received in the fighting during the war: he has just one lung and recently had hernia surgery, but he keeps at it because Jesus called him down. By the end of the year, Christians in Action here at Family of Christ hopes to raise the balance on the $10,000 needed to buy Matias a used truck so that he can get to and between the congregations. As it is now, he spends a lot of time on buses and on foot to get where he is needed. This has been hard on his health.
Pastora Martina likes working with children and has developed leaders in each community to expand the churches' reach.
Edis followed a vivid dream in which she saw herself preaching under a tree, and developed a congregation in her community of Colon. Now she does preach under the tree in front of her home where the congregation Senor de la Vida - Lord of Life -- meets.
At FoC, we pray for these leaders regularly and send salary support for the pastoral team -- which is essential because their congregations would never be able to support them alone.
On our trip we visited two of the four congregations. This is the church at Guaycume, Milagro de Dios or Miracle of God. We got there in time for the joyous 5th anniversary celebration of that community. Bishop Gomez of the Lutheran Church of El Salvador presided over the 10 baptisms, 5 confirmations, and 7 first communions. He asked me to read the Hebrews text in Spanish, and all of the pastors in attendance participated in the baptisms. The sanctuary was full and there were as many people outside the church building as there were inside, I think. All of them stayed for the chicken dinner that followed the two-hour service.
We learned at Edis' church in Colon, that though we had spent a lot of time packing our duffle bags with useful supplies, it was our presence - not our stuff - they valued most. Their hospitality was as warm as the tropical climate. This sign says, "We love you all for your presence in our church, Lord of Life." We were treated to the sweet songs of a children's choir before the heavens opened up and a downpour sent us running for cover with our hosts under the corrugated metal roof of Edis' house. They waited out the rain with the patience and fortitude that defines them as a people. They will not be deterred by a little mud squishing between their toes. Rain comes and rain goes. The people of Colon live on. Viva el pueblo de Colon!
There were many inspiring stories... Testimonies, as we called them. Stories I promise to tell you more fully later. For now, it is enough to say that the stories touched us and we touched back.
This is Cristian with our group leader, Pastor Kristian. He was forced into military service as a very young person during the war and was one of only two survivors of his grade school class of 43. He spent time in Sweden hiding from the death squads in El Salvador. Now he paints crosses to earn his living and helps out at Hope House.
Alvaro is another young man I wish you could meet. He ran away from an abusive stepfather when he was 8 years old and lived on the street for several years before he was rescued by a Lutheran pastor. With Maria Trinidad's help he stopped sniffing glue, is now fifth in his high school graduating class, and has been promised a full scholarship to study medicine in Cuba. He needs $2,100 for his transportation and school fees before he is set to leave in January. Family of Christ has already made a donation to this fund, but a big gap remains.
When you come down to a place like El Salvador, there are plenty of walls to walk into -- walls laced with razor wire, walls so hard, so imposing they knock you back on your heels. You see things and hear things you'd rather not see and know... things you'd rather weren't true about your own government's role in prolonging the civil war and sending young Salvadorans to die in other wars, like Iraq.
But where there are walls, there are also bridges...and open arms everywhere we went. The hospitality was extraordinary, transcending language barriers. Our delegation had brought cash and a lot of material goods - soccer balls, plastic cups and bowls, toys and games and children's books, towels and sheets, TWELVE computers - and these were deeply appreciated. But the best thing we brought, they told us over and over, was ourselves. Here they were, affirming us...who had come down to offer healing to them.
We came down...packing hope. We hadn't known we had room for it.
I am proud of Family of Christ's deep commitment to Hope House and the four rural congregations. We help feed lots of people who have no other place to go when they're hungry or sick. And we lead the way in providing scholarships for children who might not otherwise be able to stay in school. Our support is steady and dependable, and the vibrant exchange of letters between families and students demonstrates our sincere interest in these young people, who remain the real hope of El Salvador's future.
The message I bring to you, Familia de Cristo - Family of Christ -- from the people of the Lutheran Church in El Salvador - from Bishop Gomez and his staff, from Maria Trinidad and Alvaro and the rest of the family, from the homeless men and street kids at Hope House, from Pastors Matias and Martina and Sister Edis, and their church councils, from Alberto the teacher and his colleagues, from the school children who happily go to school each day and have dreams for a happy and secure future...the message is this: "Thank you for coming down, for climbing out of your trees and coming down to walk alongside us. God is doing a great thing today. Gracias por todo. Diķs les bendiga. God bless you. Amen.