Year A, Proper 7 a homily given by The Reverend Robert O’Neill

Matthew 10.16-33 on Sunday, June 23, 2002

at The Parish of the Epiphany, Winchester

Just two weeks ago last night, Hadley Hall was the setting for a significant celebration—the celebration of the thirtieth anniversary of Winchester’s ABC program. For those of you who are not familiar with it, ABC stands for "A Better Chance"—a nation-wide program in which promising high school students from struggling inner-city school systems are given, literally, a better chance to receive a quality education by entering a more stable school system, most frequently located in more affluent suburbs. During their four years in the program, students live together in a residential setting supported by house directors and tutors, and on weekends, those same students spend time with their host families who offer them the comfort, counsel, and encouragement of a familial support system. As the name implies, the program offers its students an opportunity for a good education and the skills necessary to succeed in life. The program also offers its supporting communities another gift, the gift of diversity, recognizing that we do indeed live in a highly segregated world that is divided along many lines—race, culture, class, religion, gender, sexual orientation, language, economics, and so on—divisions that, in the end, serve only as a kind of self-imposed isolation that diminishes our humanity and leaves us all impoverished. After all, as Jesus so frequently reminds those who follow him, we can only discover the depth of divine love, we can only find the fullness of life that God intends for us all, when we step across those lines that separate and divide people one from another.

Two weeks ago, Hadley Hall was filled. Current and former students, current and former host families, founders and supporters from across the community and across the years had gathered to mark Winchester’s thirty years of participation in the ABC program. Eight of the original ten members of the first graduating class returned, and what an impressive group it was, including several attorneys, an engineer, an agent for the bureau of alcohol tobacco and firearms, and a surgeon—one of a handful of African-American surgeons in the country now performing liver transplants. All of them spoke thoughtfully and emotionally about the opportunities that the ABC program had afforded them, and graduates from 1974 to 2002 expressed their thanks to all the people in this community who have kept the program going throughout the years. Of all the words spoken, however, none were more meaningful to me than the remarks made by Bonnie Holmes, one of the handful of Winchester residents who had both the inspiration, the courage, and the vision in 1972 to found the Winchester ABC program.

It is a remarkable story, and, I believe, it speaks directly to this morning’s reading from Matthew—that section in Matthew’s gospel in which Jesus commissions his disciples and sends them out into the world to bear witness to the divine love of God in Christ.

In 1972, Bonnie Holmes was a single mother with two young boys. She had been recently widowed and was living in Winchester largely because it had been her husband’s childhood home. Following her husband’s death, however, Bonnie found herself asking a very basic and fundamental question. "In what kind of community" she wondered, "do I want to raise my children?" It was not simply a quantitative question—a matter of physical or material well-being—it was also a qualitative question. "What kind of community" she asked, in effect, "do I think will best equip my children to enter into the world effectively as compassionate, just, complete, contributing, fully-alive, human beings?" It was, after all, the early seventies. And in the wake of the civil unrest of the sixties, and well aware of the way in which civil rights issues had impacted the Winchester community, Bonnie was determined, as she put it, that her children not grow up in "an atmosphere of community wide prejudice." Bonnie had heard about the ABC program while attending a summer program at Dartmouth, and she knew that there were other people in the community who shared her concerns. In the ABC program, Bonnie saw an opportunity—the opportunity to shape the community in which she lived and in which she would indeed choose to raise her children. Getting going, of course, was not easy. Garnering support, raising money, finding and buying a house for the program, recruiting and hiring resident directors, providing for the ongoing support of the program, dealing with community relations and town politics along the way—it was, all of it, a major undertaking filled with challenges. Bonnie tells of sitting on child-size chairs in a church school kindergarten classroom while she tried to persuade the board of the First Congregational Church to sell her a house they owned on Dix Street—the house that would eventually become the ABC residence. She recalls scraping together $1,000 dollars simply to have right of first refusal on that property. She remembers late night watches on the house when reports of possible "rock attacks" sprang up. The stories are amazing, and as I sat at that dinner in Hadley Hall two weeks ago, listening to the testimonials of graduates and hearing the stories of host families and others, I was impressed. I was impressed by the time and the care and the effort and the thought and the energy that so many people have so freely and so generously given to this one community program. It is amazing. And thirty years later, without question, literally hundreds of lives have been touched by it—and I am not just speaking about the students, but about all those people who have supported this particular program and have been involved with it in big and small ways—people whose hearts and lives have indeed been expanded, people who have been made even more alive and vital, through the simple act of living generously and proactively and compassionately for the well-being and the life of others.

It is, as Jesus tells us, the way of Life. It is, as Jesus tells us, the way into Life.

For Bonnie Holmes, it began with a question born out of a concern. "In what kind of community do I want to raise my children?" But it didn’t stop with just the concern. It didn’t stop with just the question. It continued by stepping out in faith and in optimism—believing that there was a way, that something should be done, and that something could be done.

For us, the question is virtually the same today. We can and we must ask ourselves, "In what kind of community, in what kind of world, do I want to live?" Clearly we live in a world divided along every conceivable line of separation and division. Clearly we suffer as a result. Clearly we live in a world dominated by fear and alienation and mistrust and misunderstanding. Clearly we live in a world in which violence is understood to be not only the primary but also the most effective agent of change. Clearly we all share a concern for the future—about what will happen to us and to others, about what kind of a world our children will inherit. I hear it all the time. It’s a very real concern. Which means, quite simply, that we have a choice—either to retreat and to live defensively, focusing only on protecting ourselves against the possibility of loss, working to insure only our own safety and well-being, in which case nothing will change; or we can choose to enter into the world, in faith, with optimism, holding up a transcendent vision for humankind and human life, believing not only that things must change but trusting also that, by the grace of God, things can and will change. It is a basic and fundamental decision in life. And in the end, of course, there really is no alternative.

What did Jesus say to the disciples when it was late in the day and they came to him saying, "Lord, it’s late, and people are hungry, and this is a lonely and deserted place, and night is approaching?" The disciples wanted Jesus to send the starving multitudes away. But what happened? Jesus did not send the multitudes away. Nor did Jesus do anything. Instead, he pointed right back to the disciples and said very simply and directly, "You give them something to eat." And what does Jesus say when he sees the crowds looking harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd—words that we heard in last Sunday’s reading from Matthew? "The harvest is plentiful," he says. There is, in other words, great need in the world. "But the laborers are few," Jesus continues, recognizing that few people are really willing to embrace the very challenging task of bringing the transforming love of God into the world. So let this be your prayer, Jesus concludes, "[that] the Lord of the harvest…send out laborers…." And what do we read this morning just a little further along in Matthew? Jesus says to his disciples, "See, I am sending you out…"

This is the work of the faithful—to enter into the world, in faith, to bear witness, in action, to the divine and unconditional love of God for all people.

And Jesus suffers no idealistic or naïve illusions about this work either. Read chapter ten in Matthew and you will see that Jesus is well aware of the perils of the world. Clearly Jesus advises his followers to use all of their resources, all of their wits, all of their knowledge and experience in the ways of the world, to change the world. "Be wise as serpents," he says, and, at the same time, "be innocent as doves." Clearly Jesus exhorts his followers to overcome their fear and to live boldly and courageously. "Do not be afraid," he says. "Fear not," he says. "Trust in the spirit of God working in you and through you." And clearly Jesus leaves his followers no alternative. It is just not enough to worry. It is not enough to be concerned. Worrying and wondering, fretting and lamenting, are simply inadequate.

To those who are concerned about the world—to those who ask what kind a community, what kind of a city, what kind of a country, what kind of a world do I want to live in—Jesus says only one thing: "I am sending you."

—Amen.