Text Box: Recent Sermon 
By
Pastor Susan Thomas

Trinity Congregational Church
Gospel of Matthew 11:17a, 18-19
“Jesus’ Odd Disciples”

Do you remember last Sunday when I told you that even before you did or said anything in your life, that like Jesus earlier in this Gospel of Matthew— God whispered in your ear that you are God’s beloved child, and that God’s favor rests on you. In fact, we read together the vows taken in our baptism and then all of us got up and affirmed our baptism into the household of God through Jesus’ own baptism in the River Jordan by having water touched to our foreheads. 

Well, this Sunday I’m going to tell you that because God’s favor rests on you, because of your baptism into the household of God, and because of your calling into the life and ministry, the death and resurrection of Jesus,  because you accept Jesus as your Messiah and invited him to share your life’s journey—you are also now known as the “Odd Disciples” of Jesus. Yes, that’s right—Christians are the “odd disciples” who follow the way of Christ into the world that loves sameness.

But before I tell you more about why I think you as Christians are odd disciples, let me share a little prayer with you first. Perhaps you’ve heard or read this prayer before, but lets hear it again as I think it speaks to our struggle every day to actually be the odd disciples of Jesus. 

“Dear Lord, so far today, I’ve done alright. I haven’t gossiped, haven’t lost my temper, haven’t been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish or over-indulgent. I’m really glad about that……But in a few minutes, Lord, I’m going to have to get out of bed, and from then on, I’m probably going to need a lot more help. Thank you, in Jesus’ name.”

Someone once said, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you odd.” Whoever made that statement, I think, surely must have understood what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. Because of who we are as believers in Jesus as our Messiah, as Christians, we are seen as odd after all. In that we are different from the ordinary, the usual, the sameness, the expected of this world. But, our oddness is to be celebrated instead hidden under a bushel. Our oddness is important because it is the quality that adds color, texture, variety and beauty to what we to offer to the world. 

Jesus, after all, never asked us to be the same. What he does in this passage we read in Matthew this morning is affirm our different-ness as his followers. Our oddness as Christians is important because one of the most dangerous words we can use in our country today is “sameness.” Sameness is like a virus that infects the culture of today. This virus can affect the decision-making part of our brains, resulting in an obsession with making the identical choices, wanting the same things or stuff, that everyone else is making or wanting.

This affinity for sameness is a disease that can have disastrous consequences for those of us who must live and participate in this world on a daily basis. Differences are ignored, uniqueness is not listened to, our gifts as the odd ones are cancelled out. Life, passion, and joy are all but snuffed out in a sea of sameness. 

Now, I don’t speak very often about sin, but I think that this need for sameness is some kind of “sin” that has infected us in this country that wants us all to be the same. To have the same kind of body shape, the same kind of clothes, the same kind of bank account, the same kind of schooling, the same kind of friends and relationships, the same kind of house in the same kind of neighborhood, the same kind of religion, the same kind of food, the same kind of car, and generally—the same kind of “stuff” in our lives. I would guess that this is the sin of lust and of greed that we have been sold by the powers that be in this world. In this sea of sameness, the powers-that-be make sure no one has an identity. 

But as Christians we do have an identity and that makes us the odd ones. What Peter wrote in his letter to the ancient church, I think still rings true for those of us in the church today—we are strangers and aliens in this world……….We are the odd ones, the strange ones, the outsiders, the out of step ones. Do you ever feel that way? But, the good news for us is that our oddness is really a gift! Once we accept our oddness as a gift from God, the power of the Holy Spirit works with us to give our lives and our oddness shape.  

We are the odd disciples of Jesus, the gathered Christian church is odd because we have a different reality—in that we follow the One whose life’s mission wasn’t to be popular, whose day-to-day routine included eating with and calling on and healing the most unpopular of society, whose life ended in betrayal by his friends and society, who was crucified on a cross as a criminal of the empire. 

But this is also the One whom God chose as his Son and raised him from the dead to new life to bring about the forgiveness and reconciliation among all peoples. This is the “odd” Messiah that we follow, who makes us his odd, unique, and different disciples. 

In C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the White Witch has turned many of the people of Narnia into stone, but Aslan, the Messiah figure in this story, jumps into the stone courtyard and pounces on the statutes, breathing life into them. The story says:

“The courtyard looked no longer like a museum; it looked like a zoo. Creatures were running after Aslan and dancing all around him. Instead of all that deadly white, the courtyard was now a blaze of colors; glossy chestnut sides of centaurs, indigo horns of unicorns, dazzling plumage of birds, reddy-brown of foxes and dog. And instead of the deadly silence the whole place rang with the sound of happy roarings, brayings, yelpings, barkings, squealings, cooings, neighings, stampings, shouts, hurrahs, songs, and laughter.”

Isn’t this what being an odd disciple of Jesus is all about? No longer creatures of stone cold sameness but more like a zoo of creatures of different hues who also make different noises, have different gifts and needs, and even hopes and dreams.

Another one of my favorite stories about oddness comes from Robert Fulghum’s book Oh-Uh and it’s about a boy named Norman. In this story Norman’s elementary school teacher announces the play for that Spring would be Cinderella. And of course, every one’s hands shot up into the air, each student trying to get the best part in the play and trying to get the teacher’s attention. “I want to be Cinderella!” or “I want to be the handsome prince!” “I want to be the wicked step-mother!” or “I want to be one of the wicked step-sisters!” Somehow the teacher was able to wade through all the requests and soon every one was assigned a part in the play.

Except for Norman. Norman was a quiet kid who didn’t talk much in class. Norman also had a mind of his own and was perfectly comfortable just being by himself. Well, the teacher realized Norman didn’t have a part yet, so she said, “Norman, I’m afraid all the main parts for Cinderella are taken. I’m sure we can find an extra part for you. What character would you like to be?”

Norman didn’t hesitate, “I would like to be the pig,” he declared. “Pig?” the teacher said, “But there is no pig in Cinderella.” Norman just smiled and said, “There is now.” Norman even designed his own costume—a paper cup for a nose and pink long underwear with a pipe-cleaner for a tail. 

Norman’s pig followed Cinderella wherever she went and became a mirror of the action on the stage. If Cinderella was happy, the pig was happy. If Cinderella was sad, the pig was sad. One look at Norman and you knew the emotion of the moment. At the end of the play, when the handsome prince slips the glass slipper on Cinderella’s foot and the couple hugs and runs off happily together—Norman went wild with joy, dancing around on his hind legs, and then broke the silence with loud barking. 

In rehearsal, the teacher tried to explain to Norman that even if there was a pig in Cinderella, that pigs don’t bark. But as she expected, Norman explained that this pig did bark. In the students presentation of the play at the teachers’ conference was a smash hit. At the curtain call, can you guess who received a standing ovation? Yes, it was Norman the barking pig! Who was, after all, the real Cinderella of this story.

What I love about the story of Norman is that he refuses to believe he had no place in this story or perhaps in the world. Rather than let the script limit him, Norman found a way to enhance the story with his odd character and even to make the play more full of life, and laughter, and surprise.

In some ways, Norman’s story reminds me of Jesus. The religious leaders and even the followers of Jesus, thought they had a written script of what and who the Messiah was supposed to be. When Jesus begins his ministry of compassion and healing and teaching about the kingdom of God, the Pharisees and even his cousin John have a hard time with this. “There is no ‘Jesus’ in the Messiah script. Our Messiah doesn’t hang out with outcasts. Our Messiah doesn’t break the rules. Our Messiah doesn’t question the religious authorities or threaten our religious traditions. Our Messiah doesn’t disregard his reputation, befriend riff-raff, or invite questionable people to be his disciples.” And what was Jesus’ reply? “This Messiah does!” 

Jesus believed that Messiahs find places for those who have no place, and as a result, he invited every kind of Norman he could find—from business people, dock-workers, tax collectors, women, the hopeless and the outcasts, to the successful, the monied, the privileged of society. 
Jesus invited every one to become one of his odd disciples. So that Christianity is, or should be, the home for people who are out-of-step with society, unfashionable, and unconventional.

In our oddness, churches shouldn’t be just glittering cathedrals with beautiful Cinderellas. Churches should also find a place for the odd dancing and barking pig. Churches should be awe-inspiring but also odd-inspiring. For Jesus’ earthly disciples are also “earthy” disciples who leave the place covered with their fingerprints and who track in mud from the outside world. 

Let me close with a different kind of prayer for us odd disciples than the one I started us out with. This one is “I’m a Christian” by Carol Wimmer. 

When I say, “I’m a Christian,” I’m not trying to be strong, I’m professing that I have weaknesses and that I pray for the strength to carry on.

When I say, “I’m a Christian,” I’m not bragging of success, I’m admitting that I don’t always get it right and I’m in need of forgiveness.

When I say, I’m a Christian,” I don’t speak of this with pride, I’m confessing that I stumble and need someone to be my guide.

When I say, “I’m a Christian,” I do not wish to judge, I have not the authority, I only know that I am loved.

When I say, “I’m a Christian,” I’m not shouting “I am saved.” I am whispering “I get lost,” That’s why I chose to follow Jesus.

My spiritual companions, don’t edit out your oddness….. Be like Norman and like Jesus and celebrate your oddness!  May it be so.  Amen.