Proper 28, Year B
TEXT: Hebrews 10:11-25
And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another … (Heb. 10:24-25)
Today’s epistle reading—especially the part about provoking one another to good deeds, and meeting together, and encouraging one another—reminds me of something that happened quite a few years ago now.
At the time, my son Samuel was the youth minister at a large church in the “deep south” of Calgary, Alberta (what you might call a “well-heeled” neighbourhood). And I was pastor of a smaller congregation in the city’s north-east.
Sam’s church had a sizeable youth group, comprised mostly of senior high school students, and he was always looking for ways to challenge them, and broaden their horizons, and hone their discipleship skills. So he came up with this idea of an “urban mission project.”
On a Sunday afternoon, he wanted to take a group of teenagers from his affluent part of the city into the downtown core, into the world of poverty—the realm of the homeless, the destitute, and others who must depend upon their wits to survive in a difficult environment. But of course, in order to carry this thing off, he needed some adult chaperones. And this is where I would come in. Would I help? Would I come along? Actually, I’m not sure “chaperone” is the right word to describe what Sam was looking for. The way he put it to me was like this: he said, “I need some big buys who look like they can handle themselves in a fight.”
Well, I have to tell you, I don’t particularly relish the idea of getting in a fight! But I knew what Sam was getting at; just having some heavyweights visible in the group might add an element of security. Even so, I wouldn’t have said “yes” to anybody else … but this was my son who was asking me. So I agreed to go. Then I proceeded to worry about it, because this sort of thing is entirely outside of my comfort zone.
The plan for this mission trip was simple enough. We were going to offer hot coffee and warm clothing to whomever wanted it. Then we were going to grab a fast-food supper and head to an evening service. Yes, it was a simple enough plan. But for me, it was completely foreign territory. I had grave concerns about personal safety—not just for myself, but for this whole group of kids for whom I was going to be partly responsible. What would I do, if there was the threat of violence? More than that, I had serious misgivings about our method. Would we look like just a bunch of condescending do-gooders? Would anyone resent us, or feel like their dignity was being insulted?
As I said, this stuff was outside my comfort zone. And by the time the day rolled around, I’d had about three weeks to work myself up into a frenzy of dread. But, true to my promise, after my own worship service in the morning, I headed south to meet up with the group that was going downtown. There were about 20 of us, including my son and four adult volunteers. Besides the grownups, the ages of our group ran from 12 years of age to about 18.
Before I knew it, we were in the city core. We had with us 100 cups of coffee—in those Tim Horton’s coffee boxes, which hold 10 cups each. We had 100 paper cups and lids. We had hundreds of packets of sugar, cream, and stir sticks; and we had many, many items of warm clothing.
Forming three groups, we set out in different directions, and we agreed to rendezvous later at Olympic Plaza. My group included one other adult—my friend Ernie—as well as Ernie’s 12-year-old daughter Emily, and five teenagers (three guys, two girls). Right away, we began to encounter people who looked like they might need what we had to offer. Also right away, I discovered that the young people were much less apprehensive about all this than I was. In fact, it quickly became apparent that Emily—the youngest—had no fear at all. She was by far the boldest when it came to approaching people. We had to make sure someone kept up with Emily, because she would literally run up to people to offer them coffee!
After about an hour and a half, we wound up at the Calgary Drop-In Centre, where we very quickly got rid of all the coffee we had left, as well as the clothing. Shortly after that, we had supper at a McDonald’s on Stephen Avenue, then walked to Central United Church for the evening service, which was a “Recovery Service”—that is, worship aimed primarily at people struggling with addiction. After that, we returned to Sam’s church, where we gathered in the Youth Room to “unpack” the experience. Now, “unpacking” the experience—at least, the way my son did it—involves prayer, and meditation upon Scripture, and then sharing with others. And as I sat in that circle, I heard some of the most amazing—and deep—reflections and insights from this group of teens.
I have to say that all my anxieties turned out to be completely unfounded. Nobody threatened us. Nobody was offended by what we were doing. Our gesture—small as it was—was received with what I can only describe as exuberant gratitude. It was just coffee, but these folks couldn’t have been happier if we’d given them champagne! Well, OK, maybe that’s stretching it a bit. Some of them probably would have been happier about champagne.
But the point is, they were genuinely grateful for the hot coffee, and for the warm clothing, which many of them desperately needed. This simple gesture drew us all together, and I found myself engaged in conversation with people who, a day earlier, I would have avoided like the plague. It was one of the profoundest—and most touching, and enlightening—experiences that I’ve ever had. Would I do it again? Absolutely! No question.
How does all this relate to our passage from the Letter to the Hebrews? Well, listen again to this part: “… let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another …”
How do you provoke someone to love? How do you provoke someone to perform good deeds? Well, if you’re a youth leader, one way you can provoke teenagers to this kind of goodness is by making it part of the program: by saying, “We’re going to do this. Who’s coming?” And then taking names, and demanding a firm commitment.
Taking names … making firm plans to go as a group … this touches on something else that’s important: “not neglecting to meet together.” By meeting together, and undertaking the task together, you make the whole thing do-able—and much less frightening than if you were to contemplate doing it on your own.
“Let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together … but encouraging one another …” There’s not only safety in numbers, but also mutual encouragement. Not everyone has to be like Emily—at the vanguard of things, boldly approaching people. Others can be the ones who pour the coffee, or hand out the sugar, or the clothing. Or—like me—you could be the one who carries the garbage bag (for some reason, that quickly became my job).
And there’s something else that happens when people work together: they bond! By having a common mission, you discover a common Spirit. I saw that happen, too. I had never met most of those kids before. But by the end of the evening, we felt like old friends. I felt completely accepted by them—and not just because I was “Sam’s dad.” I’d gone way beyond that. Now, I was a fellow disciple.
I also noticed—and I think this is interesting—that Emily found the same kind of acceptance. Now, you have to remember that, at age 12, she was by far the youngest member of our company. The next youngest would have been a grade nine boy, and—in the group that Emily and I were part of—the two teenaged girls were much older. So you might have expected them to treat Emily like a little kid. Or maybe even regard her as a nuisance. But that’s not what happened. In fact, quite early in the afternoon, I could see that the three girls were getting along very well. They found they had a lot in common, despite their age differences. And when we were unpacking the experience afterward, it was Emily who astounded us with her deep insights about privilege, and addiction, and the power of simple deeds.
So that’s the story. In it, I hope you’ve heard both a challenge and a promise. The challenge has to do with stepping outside your comfort zone, and encouraging others to do the same thing: provoking one another to love and good deeds. The promise has to do with the reward you’ll receive—with what you’ll learn about yourself and about others when you take the risk of discipleship. The promise is that—with the encouragement of other believers, and by acting in concert with others—you will find yourself rewarded in ways you’ve never even imagined. You’ll discover yourself to be capable of things you never dreamed you could do. And you don’t have to do it by yourself. That’s the wonderful thing about being part of a church community; we can encourage and support one other in our discipleship. And when we do that, miracles happen.
Together, we can do a lot more than any one of us can do alone. As members of the Body of Christ, we are not only called to vocations of service, we are also equipped and enabled to carry them out. And mutual encouragement is an important part of that. So don’t be afraid to stretch your discipleship. And don’t feel like you have to go it alone. Jesus promises us that when we gather together in his name, he will be with us. And when Jesus is with us, there’s nothing we cannot do. Challenges abound in Christian life. But those challenges are also opportunities—opportunities to really and truly live out your faith. Don’t be afraid to take them!