Uneducated and Ordinary People
John 10:7-21 and Acts 4:1-22
May 3, 2009

          One of the little blessings I have found since being here at Southminster are the humorous church and faith related emails that are sent my way on a rather regular basis.  Frequently they have to do children and youth perspectives on church life with a bunch of grown-ups.  Here are a couple I received a few months back.

DID NOAH FISH?
A Sunday school teacher asked her young pupil, “Do you think Noah did a lot of fishing when he was on the Ark?” “No,” answered the child. “How could he, Noah only had two worms.”

UNANSWERED PRAYER?
A preacher's 5 year-old daughter noticed that her father always paused and bowed his head, for a moment, before starting his sermon. One day, she asked him why.  “Well, Honey,” he began, proud that his daughter was so observant of his messages, “I'm asking the Lord to help me preach a good sermon.” At which point his daughter replied “Well, how come God doesn't do it?”

While these stories are certainly quite funny, we must be careful to note where the humor stems from because it is tempting to view these types of jokes in a way that seems to diminish the insights of children.  Rather than valuing the unique perspectives of children in faith and life, children and youth instead can be chuckled at for their naivety and lack of theological depth.

But if we look at these humorous stories in a different way, perhaps we can appreciate the valuable perspective a child’s insight.  For instance, in the first story of Noah only having two worms to fish with, the child’s comment is essentially modern historical criticism—the same thing they train us preachers to do in seminary:  to take a text, to understand its function from a literal or figurative or symbolic standpoint, and to unravel it.  If Noah only had two worms to fish with, how would he provide for his family?  After all, he can’t eat the animals he’s supposed to save!  So the young child’s astute comments point us in a direction to see that maybe the story of Noah was less about the literal process of a flood of destruction and more about the power of human survival with God’s help in a dangerous world.

The second story is one that probably frightens many preachers.  What if instead of a simple “nice sermon, pastor” after each one of our preaching Sundays, we received the open and honest opinions of everyone.  And I sure hope the pastor whose daughter critiqued his sermons made an diligent effort to understand why his messages weren’t getting through to her.  Because children and youth are a part of the church of Jesus as much as the rest of us and their insights can be just as bold and helpful and thought-provoking as those of adults.

Perhaps this is the reason Jesus is so adamant about letting the little children come to him and encouraging his disciples with the knowledge that the way of kingdom of God is down the pathway of a child’s faith.

This morning we celebrate together not just our monthly communion service, but also the joining of three children to the joyous feast of Jesus.  And hopefully, as we celebrate communion today, we will not simply see the cutesy side of three novice children partaking of bread and wine with us for the first time.  Rather, hopefully our eyes will be opened to see that communion is not like Thanksgiving or Christmas gatherings where children are placed at a separate table, because there is no children’s table of Christ.  Their places at the Lord’s Table are right next to ours, as equals, and their insights into faith and life are just as valuable as those of adults.  Indeed we are to learn from them and we are to listen when they speak and pay attention to their voices.  And the very same is true for all the youth and children who are a part of our faith family here at Southminster.

And our two passages of scripture speak directly to this point today.  In the book of Acts, chapter 4, we find that Peter and John have been arrested and taken before the powerful religious Council, because they have been preaching about Jesus and have healed a crippled beggar.  This great deed has brought numerous followers into the fledgling Christian community—over 5000 we are told believed the words and deeds of Peter and John.

So Peter and John are brought before the Council to explain their deeds and receive their reprimand.  But these two show courage and faith, facing down the power structures that desire their silence.  “Who do these two people think they are?” the powerful leaders ask.  And then they simply dismiss Peter and John as “uneducated and ordinary men.” 

The Greek word here for “ordinary” gives us some insight: ivdiw,thj.  Sound familiar?  It is the same word from which we get the English word “idiot.”  The religious leaders see John and Peter, two men who had received no religious training, as ordinary, common, plebeian, unskilled, perhaps even idiotic.  What could they possibly teach the smart and educated men of the Council?  But from these common people come words of healing, words of power, words of hope, words of love, because God has always used unique messengers from unexpected and unprivileged places to bring truth and light into the world.  Jesus after all, was carpenter.  Peter and John labored daily as fishermen.

There is a touch of irony in my standing before you this morning talking of the contributions of “uneducated and ordinary men.”  The very robe that I wear at this moment is a Geneva gown that comes to us out of the Protestant Reformation.  At that time many Protestant preachers wanted to wear their common clothes in a form of protest against the costly vestments worn by many in the Roman Catholic Church.  This Geneva robe was what scholastically educated teachers and clergy wore daily at their universities.

The tradition carries on to this day, though I can assure you these are not my common, daily clothes.  But perhaps it is good to ask the question of why we still wear robes like these in our churches that signal our education and our set-apartness, when it was common, ordinary people like Peter and John who were the first bearers of the good news.  This is the essence of the priesthood of all believers—everyone one of us whether robed or not—are to carry the good news of healing, hope, love, and care to all who need to hear it.

There is a temptation in our society to look only to those who are qualified for the best and most appropriate answers.  As I was tracking the swine flu epidemic this week I came across a story of a small boy in the town of La Gloria, Mexico.  The child is the first known case of a person infected the virus.  His mother and many townspeople trace the start of the flu back as early as February when 1300 of the town’s 3000 residents—almost half of the population—became sick with severe flu-like symptoms. 

And while the young boy was the only one who has been diagnosed in the town with the swine flu virus, the residents have been complaining for months that sickness for them was inevitable because of the massive pig farms nearby which are half-owned by Smithfield Foods from here in Virginia.  They say the lack of environmental concern and the poor disposal of pig waste from so many thousands of animals packed so closely together have created an environment where disease is almost unavoidable.  Indeed the flies in the town of La Gloria were so bad that the entire town was sealed off in early April for a mass extermination.

While debate rages about whether the pig farms are the cause of the virus, the underlying question is being forgotten:  Why does it take something as dramatic as a worldwide virus for people in power, and people like us, to hear to the concerns of the ordinary people, the less formally educated people, who suffer daily with disease and poverty, and who have little control over their own environments?  Why do we only hear their voices when it is our lives that feel threatened?

In our passage from John this morning Jesus is being questioned with suspicion by Pharisees because he healed a man born blind on the Sabbath.  Jesus, in response, compares the Pharisees to wolves and thieves and bandits because their interest is not in caring for their flock of followers.  Jesus then explains that there is only one flock and Jesus is the true shepherd of the flock.  In other words, Jesus places the Pharisees down on the same level of the ordinary and uneducated people.  What is important is that people listen to the words of Jesus and respond to his calls for healing in the world, and his concern for the protection and love of other people.  We are the sheep of Jesus’ flock, and thus we are all on the same plane, and we are all ordinary. 

But ordinariness is not sameness and it does not imply that we are not special.  Indeed we all have our wonderful God-given distinctiveness.  But we are also all sheep.  And as sheep none of us are better than any others and each and every person brings something valuable and worthwhile into our common flock.  We are on the same level as those uneducated and ordinary disciples, which means that all of our voices should have an equal amount power and influence. 

Your faith is important.  Your life is important.  Your perspective is important.  But they are not important simply because you possess them, but because they help support the entire flock.  From the children of this church, to the youth of this church, to the young adults, to the middle age and older adults—we all are common and ordinary and we all have gifts to share. 

So when we feast with Jesus today, I ask that you look around at the festive community of sheep that has gathered here.  Look at your friends and family of faith and think of all the times their voices have taught and enlightened your presence.  Consider what you have learned here and ponder who in this congregation has yet to teach you—especially the children and youth—and then seek them out and learn their stories of hope and pain, of despair and love.  Common and ordinary we all are.  And when we live our lives seeking to learn from the common and ordinary people that surround us, perhaps that is when our community of faith and the communities outside these walls become extraordinary.  Amen.

Jo Tuckman and Robert Booth, The Guardian, http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/apr/27/swine-flu-search-outbreak-source, accessed on April 30, 2009.