Lindiwe Macozoma is a South African Christian. Like many black women of that country during the apartheid era, she worked as a domestic in the homes of white South Africans. On her first day of work at a new job, her employer took her into the kitchen and gave her a little tour. She showed her the dishes and fine china for the family, and then she opened a cupboard below the sink and showed Lindiwe a set of old dishes, chipped and scratched from years of use. She said to her, "These are the dishes you are to use when you eat your meals."

The next day, as she got ready to leave for work, Lindiwe took a place setting of the most beautiful china from her own house, wrapped it up and carried it to work with her. When she got to work, she set a place for herself at the kitchen table, she was became anxious about how her new boss would react -- perhaps she might lose her job, but a divine spark within her said, you are child of God. Her new boss came down the stairs, and she was so surprised, Lindiwe said. She asked where these beautiful dishes came from. And I told her they were from my house. I told her that in my community, we don't eat off old, broken dishes. We buy the nicest things because we don't have much money and things must last for a long time. And she said, please don't to bring dishes from home, you can eat out of the family's dishes

The dignity of that woman! Even the cruelest, racist environment couldn't hold her down or keep her spirit bent. With the government and the oppressive white South African culture trying to push her down she stood up straight.

So did Rosa Parks -- remember her? It's very much the sort of thing that Rosa Parks, in our own country, accomplished in the year 1955. That day she was tired. And a divine spark inside of her made her decide, on the spur of the moment, that she is not going to stay bent down. Rosa Parks isn't the revolutionary type; like Lindiwe Macozoma, she was an ordinary, working woman, and a Christian. Yet like Macozoma, Rosa Parks knew well that she was a child of God and she could and must stand straight -- so she did. And of course, her action that day set off a firestorm throughout this country that eventually brought down the whole system of segregationist laws and ushered in the Civil Rights Act. You never know what can happen, when just one bent-over person stands a little taller.

Apartheid -- apart-heid is the legal system that keeps people apart or segregated. Both Macozoma and Parks were bent down, pushed down by apartheid. But something inside of them could not be held down -- they sprang up and stood up straight.

Then there was the woman who came to the synagogue one day when Jesus was preaching. She had been crippled for eighteen years -- bent over double. So she has spent a major portion of her adult life looking down at her feet. What a grim perspective that must be, to constantly look down at the ground! If the problem began as a physical deformity, you can imagine how easily it would have crippled her spirit.

In order to understand the context, you should know that synagogues in Jesus' day were strictly segregated by gender -- it was apartheid. Only men were allowed in the main part of the synagogue; women could attend, but they had to sit in a special section off to the side. The synagogue belonged to the men; they were the ones who entered into debate, who could dialogue with the rabbi about the scriptures. The women sat silently and listened; like children in the old Victorian times, they were to be "seen, but not heard."

In all likelihood, this woman not is doing anything to attract attention to herself. Jesus is in front of the group teaching, when he looks off to one side, and sees that woman come in, with her peculiar, crippled, bent-over walk. Jesus interrupts his sermon, then and there, and invites the woman to the front. This is probably the last thing on earth the woman expects, or even wants. For eighteen years she's been afflicted, not only by pain, but by embarrassment. Every person in the village knows that peculiar walk of hers. The children snicker and point behind her back. The other women cluck sympathetically as she passes by: "There goes poor so-and-so; isn't it a pity what's happened to her?" The more mean-spirited among her neighbors wonder what terrible sin she has committed to be so cursed by God.

That day she enters the synagogue as she always does -- quietly, unobtrusively, by the side door, and suddenly notices that the rabbi is speaking to her. This woman who was so snickered at, this woman who was thought of as being cursed by God, this woman whose sprit was as bent over as her body, this woman who was cut away and cast away from her community suddenly realized that someone noticed her. Before she knows it, she is scurrying forward, into the men's area where the rabbi is speaking. She knows she is not supposed to go there, but a divine spark inside of her says you are a child of God. Then Jesus' voice rings out, with a note of authority none can miss: "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." He lays his hands upon her, and immediately, Luke tells us, she stands up straight and begins praising God.

I heard of a pastor who used this story of the bent-over woman as a devotional, at a retreat for women who had been victims of sexual abuse. When she finished the reading, there was a stunned silence -- a silence that went on for many minutes. Every woman in that room knew what it meant to be bent over in spirit -- and every one there also hoped and prayed that God could call forth the power to make her stand straight and tall once again.

But the church! The church has so often, and so consistently stood against people like Lindiwe Macozoma, Rosa Parks, the bent woman and the victims of abuse. The official theology of the Dutch Reformed Church, the largest Christian denomination in South Africa had a theology that said that apartheid was indeed God's will. Preachers and theologians particularly in the south preached why segregation is God's will. Even well meaning, open minded preachers in Birmingham, Alabama were fooled. They wrote a letter to Martin Luther King once to say how his work of civil disobedience was unwise and untimely. You remember what I am talking about! To which Martin King replied in one of his most memorable essays: The Letter from a Birmingham Jail. This is such a profound piece of theological writing that I think all of us should read it and re-read it from time to time. In that letter, he takes these clergy persons to task for neglecting to understand our interdependence -- our community.

Just like the Dutch Reformed Church theologians and the clergymen from Birmingham, the leader of the synagogue wants to hold down the tradition. It does not matter to him that the woman who for eighteen years had been crippled has been healed, just like it didn't matter what Lindiwe had to do eat on, or where Rosa Parks had to sit. Upholding the tradition, was way more important -- after all, he was trying to uphold God's law. It is the Sabbath, he declares; no one's supposed to work on the Sabbath. You can almost hear the bureaucratic disdain in his voice: "We have procedures for this sort of thing, traditions to follow. There are certain designated days for healing; sick people can come back on any one of those days and be cured, but not on the Sabbath!" And how many times have we said, this is what scripture says, or that is what tradition says, so we must not allow persons with a homosexual orientation a place at God's table.

"You hypocrites!" Jesus doesn't mince words. "Why, you would not hesitate to carry water to an ox or a donkey on the Sabbath but for this woman, a daughter of Abraham, you would do nothing!" There! The blatant hypocrisy of the religious establishment is out there on display, for all to see. The issue really was not the Sabbath was it -- it was more that this was a woman, she was very likely poor, she was assumed to be cursed and they did not want her seen in the assembly of men! Apart-heid!.

Now Jesus says something to the woman here that is very important for us to note. He called this woman, a daughter of Abraham, child of the covenant, an heir to the promise. You may remember that Jesus said this to many people: the woman with an issue of blood, and Zacchaeus are two easy examples. And our reading from the letter to Galatians said something very similar right at the end. If you belong to Christ, then through him you are descendants of Abraham, and you therefore stand to inherit all that God promised to Abraham’s children.

For eighteen years her religious community had treated this woman as an outcast. She was marginalized from the covenant community. You know, when that happens to people, their physical infirmity becomes a spiritual infirmity. They begin to believe that it is their fault. And they feel guilt and shame and feel that they are rejected by God as well. Healing for this woman was not only that she could straighten up, but that the power of Satan had over her for eighteen years -- the power of apartheid was broken and she was reinstated in her community -- Daughter of Abraham. What joy would she have felt when she heard those words. She's not rejected any more. She is not marginalized any more. Now people will not look at her and snicker or think of her as a sinner. She is restored to community. Now she can stand up straight.

I think it would be very appropriate and right to say that Jesus was about building community. And that's what we said we are about as well: Celebrating Diversity, Building Community in Christ. Did you notice? We are totally in tune with what Jesus was about.

The need is obvious. All around us families are broken, relationships are on the rocks, we don’t know our neighbors, we hardly have time to talk to our colleagues and we allow ourselves to be divided along all kinds superficial boundaries. The fundamental issue for the church of the 21^st century is the same one it had to address from its inception – building community across all boundaries that separate us. This is why Paul wrote to the Galatians those powerful words about community "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." This is why the early Christians people came together across all boundaries that divide people in society and shared with each other simply according to each other’s need.

So, let me give you a practical suggestion: that we intentionally build relationships and nurture the ones we already have. We can start from here. You can look around this room and see some very interesting people that you haven't had the opportunity to get to know. I am not talking about a hi, how are you, after church. I am talking about inviting someone over to share a meal, having a cup of coffee together, or making a telephone call. It may mean going out to a ball game or a movie with someone with whom you haven't done something before. And then take that a step further -- and get to know your neighbors and colleagues. People in our fragmented culture are thirsting for meaningful relationships. Help someone stand up and straighten up. But that's the first step.

But building personal relationships is not enough. We must understand that there are systemic causes of fragmentation -- of this apartheid. Did you know that there is no Grade A field house for the children who live south of the Stevenson expressway to 71^st St and from Dan Ryan to the lake? You should see the Park District map to see how the north side is dotted with Grade A field houses. Now, do you really think it happened by chance? No, it happened because a large percentage of people in the southside are poor and black. That's apartheid. And we worry at the level of gang violence that is going on in the community. The purpose of recreation is to give young people a safe place to exercise their bodies and release their pent up energy. And now, they are taking away the only public swimming pool, at Dyett. It is the same system that keeps our schools under funded.

But how do we begin to organize around that when we are living amidst a people who don’t know their neighbors and don’t want to know them. We erect large fences, install security alarms and double dead bolts and are extremely suspicious of each other. Even geographically our community is fractured. Hyde Park physically separates itself from the rest of the south side by moats like the Midway Pleasance, Cottage Grove, and of course everyone knows not to go north of 47^th St or west of Cottage Grove. Understand this is not a Black-White thing. It is a rich-poor thing. This is a systemically fragmented community -- it is apartheid, keeping people apart.

In our second lectionary reading Isaiah 58, speaks to this. The prophet lets off a tirade against safe religious practices, like the Sabbath keeping that the synagogue practiced and fasting. People are doing the right religious practices, but God seems distant. They ask, "Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?" I mean, they are the same kinds of questions we are asking -- "Lord, we are doing all the right religious things, but our irrelevance in this post modern world is increasing, why do you not notice?" Now listen to God's answer. "Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting will not make your voice heard on high." It’s the same kind of scolding that Jesus gave to the Synagogue leader. There is an inconsistency with what we profess and what we do, between our theology and our praxis, our spirituality and our livelihood. So, what's the answer? Listen to the reinterpretation of the fast, of spiritual practice. "Is not this the fast that I chose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free and the break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself (or separate yourself) from your kin?" That's the fast.

And then listen to the promise, "If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday." Did you notice the "if", "then." If you do these things then your light will rise. If you do these, then, "the Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden like a spring of water whose waters never fail."

We often get this upside down. A lot of people tell me, I can build relationships, I can help feed people, I can get involved in justice, I can build community, if I am fed and nourished and I feel good. And so we want to do the right religious practices, keeping the Sabbath, holding a fast -- these are all good things-- but these are not what leads to the promise. God says through Isaiah, until you remove the yoke and pointing the finger and speaking of evil and you offer food to the hungry, you won't feel fed and nourished and cared for. If, you do that, God says, then your light will rise in the darkness. The Lord will guide continually and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong, and you shall be like a watered garden whose spring of waters never fail.

That's the second thing then -- let's take the lead in breaking down the walls of apartheid that still holds the south side in the grip of racism. I take seriously this call from Isaiah for us. "Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt, you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in."

This is God's call to Ellis Avenue Church: to be a repairer of the breach of apartheid, a builder of community, restorer of persons to stand up straight and walk in a newness of life.