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Monday, July 9, 2018

“Neighbors: The Mutuality of Mr. Rogers”


Mark 6: 7-13
Sunday, July 8, 2018
First Congregational United Church of Christ of Manhattan, KS
Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood
You can almost hear the groans across the centuries as the disciples receive Jesus’s instructions to go out, two-by-two, and cast out demons.

“Seriously, man? We can’t take anything with us? What about some protein bars? An extra phone charger? Nothing? How do we know that the Airbnb is going to have coffee for in the morning? You really expect to heal the sick and cast out demons without being properly caffeinated?”

But Jesus isn’t budging. He is adamant. They are to go out and make themselves totally reliant on the hospitality of strangers. Equipped and empowered to do this amazing work - following in the footsteps of their Teacher as they perform miracles - they are not given any special equipment. In fact, they’re not even allowed to take along any food, money, an extra shirt….not even a bag to carry their non-existent stuff in. Maybe this is just bit of what Paul was trying to get at when he told the Church at Corinth that “power is made perfect in weakness.”

There’s a bit of yin and yang at play here. As the disciples are strengthened and empowered to perform miracles, they are also reminded of their vulnerability and utter dependence on those they are going to serve.

And we are reminded of how discipleship is always rooted in mutuality - it’s never a one-way street. We are able to heal because we have experienced healing. We are comfortable sharing what we have because we remember those who have shared with us in our times of need. We offer a kind word to someone who is hurting because we know exactly how a small kindness can feel like a lifelife when you’re at the end of your rope. We offer hospitality to the strangers because we head the chorus from the Hebrew Bible, “remember, you were once strangers in the land of Egypt.”

In short, we extend ourselves in love because we, ourselves, have been loved.

This most basic understanding - that we are freed to love others because we have first been loved - is at the heart of everything Jesus taught. It’s why he ate with those that society had cast aside. It’s why he healed, even on the sabbath when it was frowned upon. It’s why he spoke in parables, again and again, and pointed the way to the Realm of God. Jesus, who was fully and intimately connected to the astounding and unconditional love of God, was transformed by that love and, from it, modeled what it looks like to reach out in love again and again and again.

The Rev. Fred Rogers, better known to all of us as Mister Rogers, also understood this in a profound way. Mr. Rogers frequently explained that the underlying idea of the neighborhood is “that if somebody cares about you, it’s possible that you will care about others.” [1]

Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood was the place many of us first learned about the power of hospitality, though our four-year-old selves would not have been able to name that fact explicitly. For children who grew up in the 70s, 80s, and 90s, Mr. Rogers was a consistently present, caring adult who modeled a life firmly rooted in the mutuality of giving and receiving love.

Every day at the same appointed time, Mr. Rogers would arrive in my living room, inviting me into his home. The routine was the same each and every day for over 30 years. Mr. Rogers would come in the door, singing the same joy-filled song and welcoming us into his home. He would change into a casual sweater and sneakers, making it clear that this was a place where we could all be comfortable and relaxed.

And then - settled in together - we would begin to talk. Was Mr. Rogers the first adult on television to ask children questions and then pause, leaving room for his neighbors at home to actually answer the questions? I’m not sure. But what I can tell you is that even when you watch episodes that are 40 years old, I find that I have to stop myself from answering his questions out loud. Rationally I know that he’s not actually listening to me through the TV but the openness and genuine curiosity that he exudes is so real I am almost fooled.

Fred Rogers was a pioneer in children’s television precisely because he understood the power of unconditional hospitality. He built a neighborhood where all were welcome. He spoke to children at a pace that was comfortable for him. Every aspect of the show was meticulously crafted to be accessible for Mr. Rogers’ neighbors. Those who worked closely with him have even written about what they call “Fred-ese” a meticulous nine-step process Mr. Rogers went through with each and every script to make sure the messages were accessible to children. [2]

I’m sure many of you have heard the story about the little girl named Katie who once sent Mr. Rogers a letter. Katie watched the show every day, relying on Mr. Rogers’ careful narration to carry the story because Katie was blind. With the help of her father, this five-year-old neighbor sent Mr. Rogers a letter saying that she sometimes got worried about his fish because he didn’t always mention it aloud that he was feeding them at the end of the show. From that day on, Mr. Rogers always briefly stated that he was feeding the fish at the end of each episode. An act of radical hospitality - extending ourselves for the other, going out of our way to make sure each and every neighbor feels welcome, secure, loved.  [3]

Our congregation, Iike so many faith communities, takes God’s call to offer hospitality very seriously. Each week we open our doors to numerous community groups who use our building - Narcotics Anonymous, Alcoholics Anonymous, and now Overeaters Anonymous meet here nearly every day of the week. We’ve been serving a meal to anyone who wants it every single Sunday night for almost twenty years. Rarely does a week go by that our showers go unused as Sandy, who works in our office, graciously greets those who come in need quick refreshment and shows them the way to the basement so they can get cleaned up.

Giving hospitality is a strength of this congregation. Thanks be to God.

Jesus, when talking to his disciples about hospitality, makes it clear it’s a two-way street. It’s not JUST about the acts of healing that we are called to give. It’s also about the vulnerability that Jesus calls us into as we, Christ’s followers, are called to RECEIVE hospitality from others - even complete strangers.

I think that call to learn how to graciously receive hospitality from others is rooted in the understanding that it is only by receiving love, warmth, encouragement that we can, in turn, give the same to others. This is why it’s so important to tend to the back-and-forth dance of giving and receiving care as we try to follow Jesus. We literally cannot extend ourselves, emptying ourselves for others again and again, UNLESS we are ALSO in the practice of being filled, again and again, by the Holy.

Fred Rogers must have had some profound spiritual practices that enabled him to extend himself again and again over the course of his lifetime. Although the internet is full of memes and stories that would canonize him, Mr. Rogers was not actual celestial being - at least not any more than any of us here in this room. He was a regular everyday person who got frustrated with his sons and annoyed by the constant pressures of his job. Like any of us, he struggled from time-to-time with doubts about whether his life was on the right track or what kind of legacy he might leave.

But even with all of these very normal human worries and cares, Mr. Rogers was in touch with some depth of love that enabled him to consistently give and receive hospitality and love.

I read a story on Twitter from a man named Anthony Breznican, who also grew up in Pittsburgh, like Fred Rogers. [4] Anthony grew up, like me and like many of you, graciously welcomed into Mr. Rogers’ home as a guest. He writes about a time, when he was in college and was going through some particularly difficult challenges in life. At a time when he was particularly filled with despair, he heard the familiar voice of his childhood friend, Mr. Rogers, singing softly from a TV screen that had been left on in the lobby of the building where he lived. Anthony was drawn to the TV and stood there, mesmerized as Mr. Rogers sang a song about what to do with the mad that you feel. Breznican said that watching the show felt like a “cool hand on a hot forehead.” That’s one of the simplest and best descriptions of what receiving unconditional love feels like, don’t you think?

Well, a few weeks later, Anthony got into an elevator and guess who was there? Mr. Rogers, of course. Anthony wasn’t quite sure what to do. He didn’t want to totally geek out but he also felt like the universe had perhaps placed them in this elevator together for a reason. As the doors opened, Anthony turned to Mr. Rogers and said, “Mr. Rogers, I don’t want to bother you but I just want to say thank you.” And Mr. Rogers looked at this young man, a stranger, and said, “Did you grow up as one of my neighbors?”

The two men share an embrace and make some small talk. Finally, Anthony shares that he recently stumbled upon the show again when he was going through a really hard time. And Mr. Rogers takes off his scarf and sits down on a window ledge. Anthony explains, “This is what sets Mr. Rogers apart. No one else would have done this. He says, ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’” And the two men sit there sharing stories about people in their lives that they’ve loved and lost  and how brutal this being human business can feel sometimes. Finally, as they prepared to part ways, Anthony apologized for taking up so much of his time, hoping he hadn’t made him late for some important appointment. Mr. Rogers responded, “Sometimes you’re right where you need to be.”

Sometimes you’re right where you need to be.

More likely than not, we’re always right where we need to be. But so often we forget. We are distracted and bothered by so much of the business of being human. We get so busy offering hospitality to others that we forget the importance of receiving it ourselves. Or we get so wrapped up in rushing off to the next thing that we forget to see the opportunity, right in front of us, to sit down on a window ledge and share a moment of human connection with a neighbor.

The disciples are called to go out into the world not just to offer God’s gifts but to RECEIVE God’s gifts. Jesus commands them to make themselves exquisitely vulnerable knowing that this is sometimes the ONLY way we will be talked into relying on the hospitality of our neighbors - when we REALLY need it.

It’s a dance of mutuality that we remember every time we sit down at the Table together - take, bless, break, give.

We love because God first loved us. Thanks be to God.




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