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I grew up in Detroit, in the city, and I went to school in a suburb called Grosse Pointe. I loved the school I went to. I loved the gothic building, the green acres of land that it sat on, I loved that it was right on the water (Lake St. Clare), I even liked the uniforms we had to wear.
The only thing I did not love was the long drive between my home and school. It would take anywhere from 30-60 minutes one way, depending on traffic.
For most of the years I went there, which was from Kindergarten through 8th grade, the school bus didn’t come as far west as our neighborhood, so my parents would drive my sister and me to another Detroit neighborhood that was on the school bus route and we’d get on the bus there.
Sometimes we’d be late and we’d chase the school bus, my dad honking his car horn for the bus driver to pull over. My sister and I would slump down in our seats because we were so embarrassed!
Growing up, transportation was a big deal.
What I longed for . . . was to be able to walk to school.
After school, my best friends got to walk home together, leisurely; while I had to go right to the school bus, no lingering allowed.
This longing really came to a head when my best friends at school joined a Girl Scout troop. They got to walk to school, in their green Girl Scout uniforms. I cannot tell you, I wanted to be in this troop with them so badly.
My mother talked to the school, asking questions, trying to be informed about it. I’d see her having these hushed conversations on the phone. I was giddy with excitement.
One evening my mother sat me down and told me I was not able to join that Girl Scouts troop.
I was devastated.
Up until that point, I had been able to do most of what I wanted at school. Sports, slumber parties…my parents were able to work it out so I could be there. I knew getting me to and from there was a sacrifice for them, but they always managed to work it out. Not this time. Because, my mom explained, the school was too far, and the timing of the troop meetings did not fit our family schedule or my parents’ work schedules.
I was crushed. I felt left out, I felt like my school friends were going to share in something special and meaningful and FUN that I wasn’t going to be included in.
Let me tell you what my mother did.
My mom started the first Girl Scout troop in our area of Detroit.
There ended up being so many girls who wanted to join the troop that my mom had to get a co-leader and eventually two troops were created.
My mother did that.
Now this was challenging because my parents had full-time careers, they were active in our community! So adding this to her plate, especially spur of the moment, was a big deal.
What I think my mother was doing…was creating a place for me. And not only for me; she made space for my neighborhood best friends and for an entire community of girls to not feel left out and to be included in something bigger than themselves.
Even when it was inconvenient, she did not want our zip code to bar us from experiencing something fulfilling. Looking back on it now, I think she created mansions of love in her schedule and in her heart.
She did it out of love. But this is no ordinary love.
This was an expansive love and, like the kids say today, she locked in.
If she had decided to go with the Girl Scouts in Grosse Pointe, it would have been only for me and it would have left a space in our neighborhood unopened.
By starting that troop, she wasn’t keeping up with the Joneses. We already had a ton of fun and goodness and growth in our tree-lined Detroit neighborhood. Her love did not constrict nor did it stay in place; it was expanded. It was love that made a new community and gave us kids a place in it.
Today’s text makes me think of that story because Jesus also talks about making space.
In some of the most beautiful, sublime writing I have ever read, Jesus says, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.”
I love that passage so much. Jesus is drawing the disciples, and us, toward him; including us in his earthly life and his spiritual life. Jesus is all about inclusion for the sake of community, not just the one person. His healings and parables teach us that.
Jesus makes room for people. Nothing disqualifies them, not tribe, not what your body looks like or how troubled your heart is and certainly not where you live. In the kingdom of God nobody is left out.
Today’s story, and what this sermon is about, is to consider the ways we make room for people and for God.
At church, we have the chance to do that every week when we take communion, which is one of the ways we make room for God to dwell in us. In fact, when we take communion later, the priest says those exact words: “…that he may dwell in us, and we in him…” The Eucharist is us taking the body and blood of Jesus Christ into our bodies. This is how Jesus comes to us.
I think Communion is the ultimate Come to Jesus moment!
In today’s service, we get to witness five people coming to Jesus, by having their First Informed Communion. Caroline, Josie, Peter, Taeva and William have gone through 8 weeks of formation. They asked thoughtful questions like Thomas and Philip did in today’s story, and like my mom did about Girl Scouts. These 5 people learned that communion is not just about Jesus being present. First Informed Communion shows they’re aware of what they’re doing: that taking communion opens our eyes to Jesus’s active presence in our lives.
No matter what your age, we have an open table, where everyone is welcome.
Being informed leads to our formation.
Formed so that we place Jesus Christ at the center of our existence and we can live from there.
But sometimes there are times in my life where I make room for anything but God. I may walk up to communion thinking about my to do list for the week. Sometimes I find myself making room for too many headlines, too many tasks and too many projects. Years ago, my husband Darius saw me looking over my planner and he said to me, “Just because you have an open day does not mean you have to fill it.” I try to follow that, I really do, but there’s something about a blank page where I just want to fill it!
After all, I am my mother’s daughter. I live a full life like she did, and like you do. A ways back when I was taking on too much, it was this Epiphany community that looked out for me. A fellow parishioner, my dear friend Karen Summerville told me, “You don’t have to do it all now.” Her words made me look at my life and realize that I was sacrificing prayer time and family time, and those were rooms in the mansions of God that I needed to make more space for. That’s the context of my life, it’ll look different for you depending on the season of your life and your context.
In your life, what do you make room for? Who do you create space for? Who has made space for you? As Christians, we are called to make room for God to dwell in our lives, so that God can do God’s work in us and then we take that love out into the world. When we make room for others, that IS God dwelling in us!
Making room can look like being intentional when we go up for communion; forgiving rather than holding a grudge; showing up even if it seems inconvenient. Making space is tending to people in need, creating an opening for people like my mother did, sharing beauty with others, making space for mercy…and welcoming people who live in another zip code.
These five people, Caroline, Josie, Peter, Taeva and William, while not specifically a scout troop, opened their schedules and their hearts to make room for God, and they formed their own community. How blessed are we all to witness that.
If there’s one thing I hope you take with you from this sermon, it’s this: Make room for love. Make more space for love to dwell in the mansions of your heart and in how you walk in the world. You already have in you more than enough room to do that.