I want to tell you a story today. I have two reasons for the story. The first is that I want to be briefer than usual today. The second reason is that the story is really quite good and really gets at the point of the texts today - especially the second lesson. As you hear the story, I would like us ask God to show us how we show God's love in the world around we.
The story goes like this.
Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.
I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I thought I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.
"Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly. "Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".
I looked in the rearview mirror. I noticed her eyes were filled with tears. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighbourhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds.
She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she would ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired, very tired. Let's go now." We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, a small convalescent home. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse. "Nothing, is on the house" I said. "You have to make a living," she answered. "There are other passengers," I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly. "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said." Thank you." I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.
What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?
What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We are conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware -beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
You have heard it said before - but hear it again.... People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel. They will remember your kindness and generosity.
What kind of love do we show one another? How do you make people feel?
Do we make distinctions between family and friends - and others?
And if we do, why? Is it a reason that will hold up in the light of eternity?
We do have a calling to tend our family, but we also have a calling to see one another as brothers and sisters and to form a community where we can sit at table together. Why do you think King Arthur and his knights had a round table? So that no one might be seen as at the head or foot of the table....
So it ought to be in our lives. The only head we have is Christ Jesus - his is the honour - and as he is in all - so we honour one another. The test of our faith - the test of our community - lies in how we treat one another. And in how we regard those outside our community as well.
How are those outside brought in? How does this come about …. For us Christians it is through the rite of holy baptism. With Water and the Word, we who were outsiders are brought in as children of our heavenly father. We who were once enemy of God are made friends of God the almighty.
True faith will not be happy to just talk about love – about God’s love for us and how we should love one another. True faith wants more than talk, it wants to do deeds of love. St John sums all this up quite simply by saying, "My children, our love should not be just words and talk, it must be true love, which shows itself in action" (1 John 3:18).
The story of the Gospel today - where Jesus heals the gentile man in the region of the Decapolis and the daughter of the Syrian Phoenician woman in Tyre is a reminder to us that those "outside" the covenant are to be included in our caring - in our loving - in our ministry in the name of Christ by sharing of the Word. St. Paul write faith comes by hearing the Word.
To hear we require a functioning organ called corti inside the ear. A defective corti will not produce sound that is audible.
A similar thing might be said about the sense of sight. To see properly we require not only a well formed and clear lens, we require an optic nerve that is undamaged, one that is able to translate the complete signal or light from the eye to the brain.
Jesus is able to heal all these things when they are damaged - indeed he spent much of his time doing so, not just in the area of the Decapolis where today's gospel reading is set, but in the region of Tyre and Sidon, in Galilee and the area beyond the Jordan, and in Samaria and Jerusalem. As it is for the physical senses of sight and hearing, so it is for the Spiritual senses of sight and hearing. We all require spiritual corti, spiritual sensors, if we are hear and understand the word of God, and see that his kingdom is hand. Otherwise we have but words and images that mean nothing to us. Words and images that are incapable of being translated by us (humanly) into the works and deeds of faith.
But through faith in living Word, God guides us and encourages us with his Spirit to not only believe with our minds that Jesus is our Saviour, but to put our Christianity into practice in our everyday lives. Like the taxi driver in our story earlier. And where we fail God’s grace is sufficient to forgive us.
Even with all our shortcomings, God picks us up and sends us out again to finish the race. May we say with St Paul when he talks about putting faith into action, "I have done my best in the race, I have run the full distance, and I have kept the faith" (2 Timothy 4:7).
Let us pray to God that our ears may be opened and our hearts mended so our faith may lead to deeds of love and compassion each and every day. Let us pray that our faith and our deeds be as one.
God’s peace be with you.
-- Amen--
Rev. Samuel King-Kabu
September 10, 2006