Saints and Sinners by Rev. John Mueller
A year ago this past summer, I had the opportunity to do something I hadn't done in a long time; I attended a rock concert. I went to the Fleet Center in Boston to hear and see Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band. A friend of mine, who's a serious Bruce fan, had an extra ticket and invited me to join him. It really was a remarkable experience. It was loud - at times - but it was also a lot of fun. Bruce Springsteen is from New Jersey, but when I was growing up in New Jersey I didn't pay much attention to his music. I've only started to take an interest the past few years. And as I have, I've found that Bruce Springsteen is a popular artist who's been trying to say some important things over the years.
One aspect of the concert that struck me was how "religious" it felt. I don't know how many ministers were at the Fleet Center that night, but being one helped me notice this. Rock has it's roots in gospel, rhythm and blues as well as country and that night the gospel component was really shining through. There were times, by the way the music was presented and the words that were said in between the songs, when the evening felt more like a revival than a rock concert.
One of the ways this was demonstrated powerfully was the choice of the closing song; called the "Land of Hopes and Dreams. It goes like this: "Grab your ticket and your suitcase, thunder's rolling down the tracks. Don't know where you're goin' sky is turning black. Well darlin if you're weary, lay your head upon my chest. We'll take what we can carry and we'll leave behind the rest.
Big wheels rolling through fields where sunlight streams. Meet me in a land of hope and dreams.
Well, I will provide for you, yeah, and I will stand by your side. You'll need a good companion darlin for this part of the ride. You leave behind your sorrows yeah, this day at last. Tomorrow they'll be sunny skies and all this darkness past.
Big Wheels rolling through fields where sunlight streams. Meet me in a land of hope and dreams."
Then the refrain really stuck out:
"This train
Carries saints and sinners.
This train
Carries losers and winners.
This train
Carries whores and gamblers.
This train
Carries midnight ramblers.
This train
Carries brokenhearted.
This train
Carries souls departed.
This train
Dreams will not be thwarted.
This train
Faith will be rewarded.
This train
Carries fools and kings
This train
Hear the big wheels singing
This train
Bells of freedom ringing."
Not only did the way the song was performed catch my attention but the lyrics - the imagery - sounded familiar. After a little research I found out that Bruce "borrowed" the song, making some changes along the way, from a Woody Guthrie tune called "This Train is Bound for Glory." It seems that Woody also "borrowed" this song, making some changes along the way, from a some old gospel tunes about the promised land; like 'Freedom Train a-Comin," and "De Gospel Train." The song's inspiring message of inclusivity really struck me; the powerful theme dramatically articulated in the way the entire song ends including the first line of the refrain; "this train carries saints and sinners."
You know we all better hope that the gospel train carries saints and sinners - that there's room in heaven for both "saints and sinners" because that's what we all are, and this is a helpful truth to remember. Because sometimes it's easy to get to thinking that we're more "saintly" than others and at other times people get too stuck feeling like they're lost "sinners." But really everyone one of us are both.
This truth is echoed throughout the Bible and the reading from Joshua reminds us of this. Rahab was a prostitute who played a key role in Israel's successful entrance into the promised land. God used Rahab, a "pagan" prostitute, for God's purposes in the world. And perhaps even more remarkably, Rahab is listed in the New Testament's book of Hebrews along side many other great leaders who were "justified" by faith. Chapter 11 of Hebrews begins with these words: "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen!" One of the greatest passages of scripture!
After these words the author goes into a long list of examples of heroes and heroines of the faith; Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Jacob, Joseph and Moses, the people of Israel in general when the crossed the Red Sea, Gideon, Samson, David, Samuel and many others. Included in this list is Rahab the prostitute.
If you reflect on scripture you'll notice that often the "heroes and heroines" - the "saints" - also had their shady sides. Jacob was a schemer. Rachel struggled with envy. Moses was a murder. Miriam, his sister, racist. Rahab a prostitute. Elijah was prone to exaggeration and self-pity. David was an adulterer. Paul was at least an accomplice to murder and Peter lied, denied, and abandoned Jesus during his deepest time of need. The point is all these "heroes," all these "saints" were also sinners. And perhaps the Bible is reminding us of the very important truth that so are we.
God uses whom ever God chooses to be agents of God's redeeming work in the world. So we can't write anyone off - we can't write off folks because they've hurt us, or embarrassed us, or disappointed us. We can't write folks off because they're drug-addicted, or filthy rich, or have fallen short in some other way. The reason why, as the Apostle Paul reminds us, is "there's no distinction, for all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." When we get right down to it, we're all in the same place. We all stand in the need of prayer, we all stand in the need of God's grace and forgiveness as well as the grace and forgiveness of each other. We've made mistakes and will continue to do so. BUT we don't write each other off, because God hasn't written us off - and because we never know what else we have the capacity for.
It's also helpful to remember that we're all saints and sinners so we won't think "too much" of some folks. Sometimes we idealize people - put them up too high on a pedestal. But this isn't fair or healthy. Sometimes it's hard to come to terms with the fact that our parents aren't perfect, or our children aren't perfect - or that clergy, teachers, or great leaders aren't any different - in a lot of ways - than the rest of us. Even Mother Teresa, I'm sure, had her moments. But if we have this sober, more mature understanding of people - we'll be less likely to get hurt when someone we admire suddenly doesn't meet our full expectations. We'll also be less likely to dismiss the good things these people have brought to us or others because of our disappointment.
There's been some news in the Globe recently about a man named Paul Parks, a Boston civil rights leader and former Massachusetts Education Secretary. Mr. Parks, it seems, is set to receive an award in Germany for being a part of the liberation of the Dachau death camp in 1945. Mr. Parks said he was there, but other's have recently questioned the plausibility of his claim. It seems like Mr. Parks may be lying. Which is sad. But does this make him any less a hero? If he's lying, he should admit it - come clean. But even if he is, shouldn't he still be seen a someone who has given a great deal to this community? As one writer noted he worked to rebuild Boston's low income neighborhoods in the 1960s, to improve public education statewide in the 1970s and to begin the reform of Boston's public schools in the 1990s. He's been an important bridge builder across racial and religious lines as well. In the words of Rabbi William Hamilton of Brookline: "I can not comment on the veracity of Parks's assertions but I can comment on the difference he's made in the past several decades of inspiring others to value the important relations between the African-American and Jewish communities and to honor the memories of those who were murdered in the Holocaust."
An old friend of Mr. Parks, the Rev. Charles Stith, the current ambassador to Tanzania and a United Methodist Clergy person in our Conference was asked to respond to this story: In the paper, he's quoted as saying "I don't think it'll keep him out of heaven." Which is probably true! To say this is doesn't excuse inappropriate behavior - it's important to call each other on our fallenness. But it also means we shouldn't diminish what people have done or the good qualities in them which still endure.
The truth that we're all saints and sinners can help us be a little more gracious, a little more forgiving, a little more understanding towards someone who makes a mistake - or towards ourselves when we make a mistake. And it can keep us all be a little more humble; which is a much more attractive quality than arrogant self-righteousness.
A final thing to remember about being "saints and sinners" is that often there are many factors which make us one or the other at a given time in our lives. Being "righteous" has to do with other factors besides our own attentiveness, discipline, and faith. Things like our upbringing, people we've known, opportunities we've had, advantages granted to us all play a role. Similarly, the things which make us "fall short of the glory of God," aren't often solely our own doing. Certain traumas, societal factors, upbringing, a lack of love, attention or other strong forces are usually at work.
So the Bible seems to be encouraging us to be balanced in our approach in life. Know that there is a higher calling to which we should all strive. But also we should know that we all fall short and therefore are in the same place as everyone else. Christ died for all of us - saints and sinners - so we can't write anyone off.
This truth was dramatically illustrated in the life a young woman I've mentioned in a previous sermon. She was in an abusive relationship, but after coming to church for a few years and getting to know a some members of the congregation, she found the courage to finally leave her abusive partner. To help her make this break, we invited her to move into the third floor apartment of our home. We all thought this was a good step and could help her get back on her feet.
At first things seemed to be going fine. But then we started to notice some peculiar behavior. To make a long story short, this woman turned out to be an alcoholic, and one holiday week went on a drinking binge. She started lying to us and doing whatever it took to keep drinking. At times she couldn't remember what she had done or conversations she had. One night after mixing alcohol and some pills, we took her to the hospital and after all sorts of promises to not drink again, we found her hiding more bottles and lying even more to us. So we gave her an ultimatum. We said we'd help her if she helped herself by enrolling in a detox program. She refused to accept our offer so we told her she had to move out. This was a very painful decision. We wanted her to stay, to accept our help, but we told her during a sober moment that we wouldn't put ourselves, our children, or the other tenants in danger.
I remember when all this was happening; I was angry - really angry at her and the whole situation. I was angry that we were being lied to. I was angry that she wouldn't accept our offer. I was angry that we had shared so much with her and she simply chose to throw it out the window. I was angry at her weakness - her inability to break free from the alcohol. I knew - intellectually that she was struggling with a powerful, disease, but I was angry. I was angry at her stubbornness, stupidity and selfishness. So I just wanted her out and, to be honest, I didn't want too much to do with her.
But the reason why I'm telling this story again is because of what happened next. Before she had moved out, she had started to visit, about once a week, a member of our congregation named Judy, who was confined to a wheel chair and had a rare form of muscular dystrophy. Judy was only in her 50s yet she had lived in a nursing home for almost 15 years of her life, with little family around her. After this young woman moved out however, she continued to visit Judy, who then became very ill. She had a severe case of pneumonia, which had killed her only sister, about three years earlier.
Sometimes when I went to the hospital, I would meet this young woman by Judy's bedside. She told me she didn't know what to do and shared with me that she had never been close to someone who was so sick and dying. I told her that the most important thing was to be with Judy; to let her know you care, especially since she had no family to speak of. As time went on, this young woman was the most faithful visitor of all the people in the congregation. She went almost daily when Judy was in the hospital, just to sit next to her. She certainly cared more than any blood - relative Judy had and more than any congregation member who had known Judy for a much longer period of time. I remember being struck by this young woman's devotion, her attention, her compassion and faithfulness.
Watching her care for Judy reminded me that you can't write anybody off. I was extremely mad at her when she left our house - mad at the time, the energy, the money, we had offered her and her selfish behavior in response. I'm still mad at this part of her - but I was reminded that that's not all of her!! In regards to this young woman's relationship to Judy she was a saint. There's no doubt in my mind.
This experience reminded me once again that we're all saints and sinners. God shows no partiality because we've all sinned and fallen short of God's glory. If we start writing people off - people who aren't living up to our standards or the church's standard's or society's or someone else's - we'll find there won't be too many - if any people - left. Maybe this is why Jesus spent so much time with "sinners." He knew they were saints as well - simply in disguise. And maybe that's why he was so angry with the religious leaders and good church people of his day, because he also knew that many privately considered themselves "saints" and failed to see how they too were sinners.
So we need to be strong and firm with ourselves and others about what is acceptable and what is not, but also always open to each other - willing to continue to love each other and welcome each other back - to support each other and encourage each other as we try to draw out what is best in each of us and as we strive to more fully embrace the high calling of being disciples of Jesus Christ. Amen.
Sermon delivered by Rev. John Mueller on Sunday, October 15, 2000.
Page created February 18, 2001.