An old Rabbi once asked his pupils how they could tell when the night had ended and the day had begun.  "Could it be," asked one of the students, "when you can see an animal in the distance and tell whether it's a sheep or a dog?"  "No," answered the Rabbi.  Another asked, "Is it when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it's a fig tree or a peach tree?"  "No," answered the Rabbi.  "Then when is it?" the pupils demanded.  "It is when you can look on the face of any man or woman and see that it is your sister or brother. Because if you cannot see this, it is still night."

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Part of my vacation was spent in Oaxaca, Mexico.  I visited my seminary roommate who started a church there. Oaxaca is the capital city of the state of Oaxaca, and there is a prison there.  Every Wednesday Mary Ann puts her collar on, and with notebook, Bible, and prayer book in hand, she goes to the prison and visits some of the inmates.  On the Wednesday I was there, I went with her. 

The people who live in the prison wear the clothes they had on when they were brought in to the prison – unless, of course, family or friends bring them clean underclothes or outer clothes.  They are given one meal a day; three days a week the soup has meat in it.  No soap, shampoo, or deodorant is supplied for them.  There is not a library, and they are given no pens, pencils, paper or stamps.  The men have about 15 feet of cement “courtyard” all around the outside of three sides of the prison, where they can sit, talk, exercise and work.  And work they do.  They make soccer balls.  They are given the die-cut pieces of leather, they punch holes around the edges, and then hand-stitch the sections together, putting an inner tube inside before stitching the final seam.  For each soccer ball they make, they earn 80¢ – the equivalent of about 8¢ in American money.  They use this money to buy food, clothes, and toiletries, among other things.  The men can’t possibly earn enough to meet all their needs, so most are visited regularly by their wife or girlfriend or mother or grandmother who brings in clean clothes, food, and other items for them.  The courtyard is open to the sky, so most days it is very hot.  It smells in the morning; it smells worse in the afternoon.  The men have strung tarps and blankets on the side next to the building, so there is some shade.

There are women at the prison, too.  But the women don’t have access to the outdoor courtyards.  They have one inner room open to the sky, but it’s in the center of their living area.  It is about 20x25 feet, giving them access to the open air above them, but no real room to walk for exercise.  The women are not allowed to make soccer balls, so they have no way to make money.  And once they are there, according to story after story that we heard, their men get other women in their lives, and don’t visit to bring food or clothes or anything else.  The women have way fewer visitors and way less help than the men. 

People who live outside the city in the little villages have it better, but even there poverty abounds. 

For a short while when I was in Mexico, it was daytime, and I saw that these people south of the border are my brothers and sisters…

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I came home to news about escalating violence in the Middle East.  With sadness I realized that before my vacation I had gotten so used to hearing about a car bomb or two each week, that to hear about Israelis or Palestinians who were killed or maimed didn’t seem like new news.  Coming back and hearing about the daily bombs and the evacuation of westerners from the area brought me up short.  What are we doing to each other on this earth?  What has happened to the brotherhood of man?  Why can’t we celebrate the differences between us instead of fighting over them?  Why do we take this amazing gift of life that God has given us and waste it on jealousy, anger, competition, and greed? 

In our Collect this morning we prayed:  “O God, …increase and multiply upon us your mercy…”  We so need God’s mercy.

Paul, in Ephesians, told us that we must “grow up” as Christians.  We cannot just talk about being Christians, we need to live the Christian life, and we need to do it now.  He wrote, “I beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” 

My friends, Paul is the one who told us that we are the Body of Christ, and today he is telling us that we need to be that Body not in name only, but in fact.  It is easy to love those who love us; we are called to love everyone else, too.  It is easy to share with those who share with us; we are called to share what we have and what we are with people who can give us nothing in return.  We need to live this Christian life – a life of love, humility, generosity, gentleness, and peace to name a few characteristics – whether or not there is reward or recognition offered, whether or not it feels like we are making a difference.  When Elisha asked for a double portion of Elijah’s spirit, Elijah couldn’t promise he’d get it.  Only God knew whether or not Elisha would be called to be another powerful prophet.  Yet, without promise of getting anything in return, Elisha accompanied Elijah through hard terrain, for miles and miles from city to city, helping him even when advised by good people not to do so.  Elisha had made a commitment to God, and he lived that commitment with integrity. 

We, too, have made commitments to God.  One of them, the foundational one, is our Baptismal Covenant.  Among other things, we have promised God that we will strive for justice and peace for all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.  Are we, like Elisha, living up to our commitment even though at times it might be difficult?  Or like Jesus’ disciples in today’s gospel, is it obvious to God that we do not yet understand our call?  Are our hearts hardened toward our brothers and sisters?  Do we live in the darkness of night? 

We at St. Martin’s have several opportunities coming before us in the next few weeks, opportunities to respond to God’s call in new ways.  As individuals and as a parish we will need to figure out how we want to respond to the Millennium Development Goals, the Fruit of the Spirit program, and, related to that, the mentoring program.  Please don’t take any of them lightly.  Please don’t just brush them off, thinking they might be good for other people but not you.  Please make a commitment to grow a little closer to the person God created you to be, and please help others here do the same. 

How can we tell that night is ending and the day is beginning?  It is when we can look on the face of any man or woman and see that it is our sister or brother.  May God have mercy on us, and help us see the new day.  Amen.