October 26, 2008
Reconciliation Sunday
Rev. Wendy Miller Olapade
Text:  Luke 16:19-31

DRAWING LINES

Each of the various disciplines within the social sciences likes to believe that it has its finger on what makes human beings "tick."  For Freudian psychologists, sex is the driving force behind all we do.  Disciples of Eugene Skinner see a simple desire to experience pleasure rather than pain as that which shapes our behavior.  Economists find fiscal reasons lying at the root of all human activities.

There is one branch of thought among certain behavioral psychologists that suggests all our actions and all our motivations grow out of one ancient drive - the need to establish and protect our own territory.  This is a theory known as the "territorial imperative."  Those who identify it as the mainspring behind the behavior of higher organisms see it as the reason birds sing, insects buzz and swarm and dogs bark and bite.  In human beings, the "territorial imperative" can explain everything from why you seem to spend all your precious "free time" taking care of your yard to the continued rise and fall of nation-states and the ongoing nature of ethnic wars.

A "territorial imperative" means we need to draw lines.  Mostly, we like to draw lines around things, people and property and declare everything inside that line as "ours."  No one has ever denied the penetrating truth behind Robert Frost's poetic declaration that "Good fences make good neighbors."  Whenever you see a "No Trespass" sign posted, you are facing a warning not to step over the line.  (In its original usage, "trespass" meant a sidestep, a lapse or a deviation.)

The lines we draw around what is "ours" and what is others' varies from situation to situation.  When people trespass against us by touching a "tender spot" where we are vulnerable to offense, even if the intrusion is accidental or ignorant or takes the form of a harmless joke, we begin to defend "our space."

When the neighbor's dog does something inside our fence, we know exactly where the point of trespass lies: "our yard."

When a wave of robberies begins to haunt our end of town, our territorial line suddenly expands to include "our neighborhood."

When we resent the intrusion by the federal government into our regional needs and wants, our territory takes on the even larger boundaries of "our state."

When threats of war and terrorism start crashing on our shores, we find ourselves yearning for a way effectively to protect "our nation."

When our ozone layer starts to fizzle away from fluorocarbons, and our oceans start smelling like backed-up septic tanks, we suddenly feel the need to defend "our planet."

When we eventually draw our lines so broad and wide that they encompass the whole earth, we see that what was once a "line" has now become a circle - a circle of love and concern that puts every living creature on the "inside" of this boundary.

This is the kind of line, an eternal line - for a circle has no beginning and no end - that Jesus wanted to call attention to in today's gospel parable.  The rich man, during his life on earth, had drawn his lines very tightly about himself and his possessions.  The poor Lazarus lived in misery and hunger "at his gate."  He was of no concern to the rich man because his agony lay on the other side of that man's line.

Upon reaching his new territory - his own torment in hades - the rich man suddenly finds himself now on the wrong side of the line.  A "chasm" which no one may cross - a clear line of demarcation - separates those in heaven and those in hell.  It is only when he is established on the wrong side of this line that the rich man recognizes the truth about what was "his," about what truly lay within the boundaries of his concern when he was on earth.  He calls Abraham "father" and recognizes Lazarus at the patriarch's bosom as his brother.

The rich man begs Abraham to allow a brotherly mission of mercy to come to him - for he now desperately wants to claim his place in the circle of God's family.  But Abraham declares that opportunity is past, the time for expanding his boundaries had been while he was on earth, and the rich man must now exist within the confines of the territory he sculpted out for himself while on earth.

In all his wisdom, however, Abraham did not strictly speak the truth to the rich man when he declared that the chasm lying between them could not be crossed.  It was, in fact, through the power of a cross that the boundary between heaven and hell was breached.  Jesus broke the power of death and crashed the gates of hell.  God has done for us what Abraham refused to do for the rich man.  To the witness of the tradition, to the truth of Scripture, God has added the glory of the apostles' witness of Jesus' resurrection.

Is your life increasingly subdivided by lines of your own making?  Are you on-line or off-line? Do you rate a by-line or are you on the sidelines?  Do you walk a fine line, or have you found yourself red-lined?

Dear ones, during the last 18 months, the territorial imperative has been at work here at Hope Church – and many of you who are here, and some of us who are missing today – have been deeply hurt by the drawing out of lines.  Social scientists surely would have some fancy words for what has happened, and I suspect the folk at Harvard could come over a do a case study… but I am here to tell you that the drawing of lines is a natural instinct when things which are beloved are at risk.  Lines have been drawn about worship, lines have been drawn about music, lines have been drawn about decision making models and structure and by laws, lines have been drawn about your vision and future and mission, lines have been drawn about leadership style, and perhaps most significantly to many, lines have been drawn about your pastor.

The truth is, while this instinct can be a helpful form of personal protection – it is almost ALWAYS harmful to reconciliation and community.  For the territorial imperative is always about defining who is in and who is out; about drawing a line to keep me over here and you over there.  The lines which have been drawn here at Hope are utterly inconsistent with what you stand for and that which has differentiated you from many other faith communities.  Many of you have been left with deeply hurt feelings and questions about important relationships and your place in this church.  There were unhelpful behaviors in the heat of the line drawing, and fears about the future that must be overcome in order for the church to move forward in the next phase of its development.

The divisions are of our own making.  The lines have been drawn by us.  The pain is keeping us from being on-line.  Whether it is personal lines we have drawn or the lines we are dealing with here in our beloved community… The only way to escape from these lines of despair is to draw together all the lines in our lives to create the eternal line: the circle.

The eternal line that is offered to us through Jesus' boundary-breaking entrance into this world and his sacrificial love for us in his death on the cross draws endless circles around us: circles of love, circles of hope, circles of peace.  All we are asked to do in return is to climb over our self-made lines and step into the middle of Jesus’ circle.

All we need do to reconcile is erase the lines we have drawn and draw something new – a great big unending circle of love and hope. Will you join that circle this morning?

[The worship continued with a ritual of reconciliation.  For the next ten minutes, all had a chance to sit and reflect, and are invited to take a piece of paper and write down your angers, hurts, disappointments, resentments with the objective of letting go of the things that stand in the way of our moving forward as a vital and vibrant faith community. Then the congregation came forward, left its resentments in the burning bowl and formed a circle around the sanctuary to pray for healing of the congregation.]

Resources: Homiletics