Little Ones

Below is the text of the sermon I preached this past Sunday at St. Andrew's UMC in Edgewater, MD. In it, I talk about some interviews with the Freedom Riders that I saw on an episode of "The Oprah Winfrey Show." What I do not mention is that the Oprah episode was a tie-in with an episode of "American Experience" on PBS. I recommend watching both if you get the chance. You can find info about the Oprah episode here, and about the "American Experience" documentary here.

After I gave this sermon, I got an amazing surprise. For those who do not know, I have been attending St. Andrew's since I was born. I was actually part of an earlier congregation that evolved into the current St. Andrew's. So, I am lucky enough to go to church with many people I have known my whole life. One of those people- my childhood Sunday school teacher Mrs. Smith- approached me before church Sunday and asked for a few minutes after the sermon to speak about Sunday school. Naturally, I agreed.

After the sermon, I turned the pulpit over to Mrs. Smith and learned that the Sunday school thing had been a clever ruse. Instead, she was there to talk about me. The whole church had taken up a collection to buy me graduation presents, and asked her to present them. She told some stories about my time as a Sunday School student, including one of my mother's favorites: When I was a little over 2, my great-grandmother was dying in a nursing home. I had gone to see her, along with my mom and our former pastor. At the end of the visit, the pastor led us in the Lord's prayer. Apparently, I surprised everyone by knowing all of the words, and everyone fell silent to let me finish the prayer.

I've heard this story before. My mom can't tell it without crying. Yet, it struck me in a totally new way hearing it this time. My ordination process has been a struggle and I've spent a lot of time questioning my call. Hearing this story made me realize that I had a call long before I was aware of having one. If I was ministering when I was 2, then what else would I be doing at 32?

So, thank you so much to Mrs. Smith and everyone at St. Andrew's. Your support means more than I could ever put into words!

Matthew 10:40-42


40“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 41Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; 42and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

Little Ones:
Matthew 10:40-42

This past year, like millions around the world, I watched Oprah Winfrey’s 25th and final season. I’m 32, so Oprah has been a TV star almost my entire life. I hadn’t actually watched her show for awhile, but as the end drew near, I got nostalgic and started recording every episode. I’m glad I did, because back in May, I saw something extraordinary.

On that day, Oprah welcomed a group of true American heroes: 178 men and women who participated in the Freedom Rides. These brave Americans, of different ages, races, and backgrounds, all boarded public busses in 1961 for a trip into the deep South. Their mission was to non-violently challenge segregation in public transportation. For those of you who are a little rusty on your history (I know I was), here is a little refresher about the United States in 1961:

At that time, bus travel was a humiliating experience for African-Americans. In many states, they were forced to ride in separate sections at the back of the bus. At stops, they were forced to sit in separate waiting rooms, use separate bathrooms, and use service entrances at restaurants. Often, these separate accommodations were inferior. Sometimes, they were non-existent. It was not unusual for an African-American on a long bus trip to be find him or her-self unable to buy a cup of coffee or simply use a restroom.

In addition to humiliation, African-Americans who traveled also faced danger. Several of the African-American Freedom Riders told Oprah that travel was terrifying in those days. They never knew when they might be harassed or attacked by a fellow passenger. Many avoided travel altogether, only traveled in groups, or arranged for friends and family members to meet them at stops. Even when they obeyed the humiliating Jim Crow laws, they could never be sure of their safety.

At the time of the Freedom Rides, segregation in interstate bus travel had already been ruled unconstitutional by the US Supreme Court. The Supreme Court has also struck down the idea of “separate but equal” with the Brown vs. Board of Education decision. Still, many states ignored these rulings and kept Jim Crow laws on the books. Leaders in the federal government, who didn’t want to lose southern votes, did nothing to challenge these illegal practices.

The Freedom Riders set out with the goal of forcing the state and federal governments to honor their legal responsibilities. Their plan was simple. In mixed-race groups, they would board public busses and travel through the South, from Washington, DC to New Orleans. Along the way, they would challenge segregation by sitting together on the busses and using “whites-only” accommodations at stops. If they were harassed, threatened, or challenged, they would never respond with violence. Instead, they would simply state their rights under federal law and expect officials to honor those rights.

The Freedom Riders knew what they were doing was dangerous. Before going on the rides, they participated in trainings where they practiced responding non-violently to verbal harassment, threats, and beatings. In the final hours before boarding the busses, all of the Riders signed last wills, and wrote letters to be delivered to their families if they were killed. They knew that they were risking their lives, but they had decided that the cause of racial equality was worth dying for.

As I watched the stories of the Freedom Riders, I was reminded of Jesus’ disciples. This reminder was timely, because today’s Gospel reading is taken from Matthew 10, which contains the instructions Jesus gave to his disciples. We know from the rest of the scriptures and church history that Jesus’s disciples went on to become great leaders of the Church. But at the time of today’s reading, they’re really just twelve ordinary guys. Jesus didn’t choose the people who did his most important work from among the upper echelons of society. They were not religious authorities or political leaders. They were fishermen, tax collectors, and other everyday, ordinary people.

At the time of today’s reading, only a few weeks have passed since the Disciples left everything they knew- their homes, their families, their professions- in order to follow Jesus. Within these few weeks, the disciples have seen Jesus perform miracles and inspire great crowds with his preaching. But they have also seen him questioned and criticized by religious authorities, hounded by crowds demanding his attention, and rejected by the people of his hometown. I can’t help but think that at least a few of the disciples were wondering what they had gotten themselves into.

You might think that Jesus would take it easy on these guys- after all, they’ve been through a lot in a short period of time. But instead, Jesus actually ups the ante. In Matthew 10, Jesus gives the disciples their commission. He takes these twelve ex-fisherman and ex- tax collectors, puts them into pairs, and sends them off to do the same things he has been doing. He tells them that they too will preach, they too will cure the sick, they too will drive out demons. He doesn’t even let them take anything- no food, no bag, no money- literally nothing but the shoes on their feet and the clothes on their backs. They must depend entirely on faith and the hospitality of strangers.

As if the Disciples’ mission weren’t daunting enough, Jesus also tells them to expect persecution. They can expect to be harassed, arrested, maybe even beaten or killed. When this happens, Jesus tells them not to fight back. They should simply trust God to provide for them, to punish those who persecute them, and to reward those who welcome them. Today’s reading is about those rewards. Jesus promises that anyone who welcomes one of his disciples- even with something as small as a cup of water- is welcoming him. And anyone who welcomes him is also welcoming the God who sent him.

A cup of water may not sound like much to offer one of God’s messengers. But think about the position the Disciples were in. They were ordinary, everyday people called out of their regular lives to go on a dangerous and difficult mission. I imagine that they approached every new town with fear and apprehension, tired and hungry, wondering if they would be greeted with welcome or violence. A kind stranger offering a drink of water must have seemed like an angel from Heaven.

Some of the Freedom Riders met just such an angel on their journey. Her name is Jaime Forsyth McKinney, and she was 12 years old at the time of the Freedom Rides. On Mother’s Day, 1961, one of the busses carrying the Freedom Riders arrived in Jaime’s hometown of Anniston, Alabama. Up to that point, they had not faced any violence on their trip, but they had been warned that Alabama would be dangerous. Jaime’s father was a well-known white businessman in the town, the owner of a grocery store. Speaking to Oprah Winfrey, Jaime recalled her father coming to her that day, telling her about the Freedom Riders, and bragging that he and some of his friends had a “special welcome” planned for the bus.

When the Freedom Rider’s bus pulled into Anniston, Jaime watched in horror as her father and an angry mob began attacking the bus, screaming racial slurs and death threats. People slashed at the tires and threw rocks at the windows. The driver tried to steer the bus away, but was blocked by the mob. Right in front of the Forsyth family grocery store, the driver stopped and got off the bus. When he saw that the tires were flat, he just walked away, leaving the passengers in the hands of the mob. As Jaime watched, mob members blocked the bus doors and threw a home-made bomb into an open window, setting the bus on fire. The mob intended to keep all of the passengers trapped inside, but they were forced to retreat when they thought the bus might explode.

As soon as the mob backed away from the bus, the passengers ran out, coughing and gasping for air. Many collapsed on the ground. With tears in her eyes, the adult Jaime remembered the scene as “like a scene from Hell, the worst suffering I’d ever heard.” Despite the fact that her own father was part of the mob, 12 year-old Jaime could not stand by and do nothing. She recalled setting her eyes on one woman in particular, who was lying on the ground. She ran over to that women and got down with her, washing her face, comforting her, and giving her water from her family store. As soon as she was sure the woman would be okay, she took water to another person, and then another, and another. For Jaime, bringing water to the Freedom Riders was an act of unimaginable mercy and courage. She had no idea what her family and neighbors might do to her afterward, or what trouble her actions might cause for the people she loved.

In the story of the Freedom Riders, we find example after example of amazing courage on the part of the Riders themselves, and on the part of the people, like Jaime, who welcomed them. The same was true in Jesus’ time. Everywhere he went, Jesus was regarded by the religious and political leaders as a radical and a heretic. He and his followers were seen as a dangerous threat to the hierarchies of the time. Welcoming one of Jesus’ disciples meant being associated with a fringe movement. It could mean getting expelled from the synagogue or rejected by one’s family. Opening the door to Jesus’ disciples meant closing the door on one’s former life.

As we’ve seen from both the Disciples and the Freedom Riders, welcome can be a risky business. But so far, we’ve only talked about obvious, dramatic risks: harassment, violence, alienation from friends and neighbors. But I think that showing welcome has a more subtle risk too. When I read today’s text, I’m struck by the way that Jesus calls his Disciples “little ones.” That term makes me think of a child, or of someone frail and small. In order to welcome a little one, we have to kneel down and put ourselves at their level. The experience is humbling, and it causes us to see the world from a different perspective. When we reach down to welcome one of the “little ones” of the world, we risk being changed ourselves.

Many people who encountered the Freedom Riders came away humbled, and with their perspectives forever changed. One such person was John Seigenthaler, who worked as a special assistant to Attorney General Robert Kennedy. Looking back on his life prior to the Freedom Rides, Sigenthaler recalled growing you in a privileged white family in Tennessee. He remembered being surrounded by decent, good-hearted people, who never challenged the racism all around them. He described himself and his childhood community as “blind to the reality of racism and afraid of change.”

After the mob attack in Anniston, the Kennedys sent Seigenthaler to Alabama. He was given two jobs to do: First, to convince the Riders to give up their mission and fly out of the state. Second, to convince Alabama’s governor to protect the Riders until they could leave. Seigenthaler achieved these original objectives, but then he got a surprise:

Just a few days after the first Freedom Riders left Alabama, a second group decided to continue the bus trips. This group was led by a young Fisk University student named Diane Nash. Siegenthaler remembered calling Nash on the phone and demanding that she call off the Freedom Rides. He chastised her, saying that she was just a child who didn’t know what she was getting into. He warned her that she was going to get someone killed. Calmly and quietly, Diane Nash told him that all of the Freedom Riders had signed their wills and knew exactly what they were facing. She also told him that she could not allow violence to triumph over non-violence. Siegenthaler had no answer to these statements, and remembers the conversation as the day he “got schooled by a little child.”

Talking to Diane Nash changed John Siegenthaler’s perspective. He was a privileged, high-ranking official in the most powerful nation in the world, but he opened his heart and mind to a group of young students from an oppressed minority group. From that day forward, he had a different perspective on the Freedom Riders. He saw the hatred and violence they faced with new eyes, and fought hard for their protection. He was even knocked unconscious trying to defend two Freedom Riders at a bus station in Alabama. Once he allowed himself to see the world from the Freedom Riders’ perspective, John Siegenthaler could never look at it the same way again.

Having our perspective changed is one of the risks of welcoming a disciple. Once we open our eyes to the “little ones” Jesus sends as his messengers, we can’t help but think and act differently. This kind of change can be difficult, but I think it is also one of the rewards that Jesus promises. Throughout the Gospels, people take tremendous risks and suffer terrible consequences for Jesus and the church, but their risks do not go unrewarded. Those who choose to follow Jesus often give up their homes, families, and livelihoods, but they find a calling and new relationships with God and other people. They get to be part of a movement they believe in, and they are remembered as forefathers and mothers of our church to this day.

When Oprah interviewed the Freedom Riders and their supporters, many shared about the consequences and rewards of participating in the Freedom Rides. Some suffered life-long damage to their physical and emotional health. Many were psychologically scarred by bearing witness to such intense prejudice and hatred. Some never repaired relationships with loved ones who did not support the movement. Still, not one person expressed regret about being part of the Freedom Rides. On the contrary, they expressed pride at their role in American history. They are proud that they helped make the United States a more welcoming and just place for future generations. White Riders and supporters talked about having their eyes opened to important issues of justice. African-American riders and supporters talked about learning that not all white people are racist. Nearly every person interviewed talked about lifelong friendships built on the Freedom Rides.

In Matthew 10, Jesus is talking specifically about the mission of his disciples, and the people who will greet them. Yet, I don’t believe that Jesus’ message is only for Jesus’ time. I believe that Jesus still sends “little ones” to do his work, and he still calls us to welcome them. A few weeks ago, Harold Camping and his prediction about the rapture got a lot of people talking about the end of the world and the second coming of Jesus. Personally, I don’t like the phrase “second coming” because I think it distracts from the reality that Jesus comes to us every single day. In texts like the one we heard this morning, Jesus tells us that we have countless opportunities to meet him in the “little ones” of our communities, our churches, and our world. If we want to meet Jesus, all we have to do is look for his messengers. When we welcome them, we welcome him.

I believe that, as Christians, one of the most important questions we should ask ourselves everyday is who are the little ones Jesus is sending, and how can we welcome them?

Who are the little ones of our churches, the ones on the margins who take great risks even coming to church? What can we do to see things from their perspective? How can we make them feel welcome? How can we humble ourselves to learn what they have to teach us?

Who are the little ones of our communities and our world? Who are the people on the margins of our society, and how can we extend welcome to them? Who are the people held down because they threaten those at the top? How can we extend our friendship and solidarity to them?

It takes courage to reach out to the “little ones” in our lives. Like Jaime Forsyth with her cup of water, we take a great risk when we turn away from what we know and reach out to strangers in need. Yet, when we reach down to lift a brother or sister up, we touch the hand of Jesus.

Amen.