On Thursday afternoon Pastor Jeff and I were joking around about the quality and quantity of hair on the heads of two out of the three pastors at Mount Olivet. That conversation got me thinking, because of the expectation of you all, that two out of three of your pastors have hair categorized in the top-ten of United Methodist pastors, I needed to get a hair cut. So this weekend, I headed over to the Neighborhood Barbershop in Falls Church, sat down in Spud’s chair, and I got my ears lowered.

Hair is a big deal in our family. You can’t always tell on Sunday mornings but Camden and I spend more time washing, combing, drying, trimming, and styling our mops that the ladies in our house. You can say we are trying to break the stereotype that guys don’t care about how they look. And let me tell you, it takes A LOT of work to look this good. 

When we first moved to Arlington I was anxious about two things: ensuring Camden was admitted into a preschool because we found out we were moving AFTER enrollment at MOPS had closed and finding a barbershop. Allison will tell you when it comes to a barbershop, I am picky (almost to a fault, almost). When we lived in Chesapeake it took me 18 months to find a barber I trusted and then, six months later, we moved. There is a fine line between a salon and a barbershop. There’s something about the smell of talcum powder that takes me back to when I was a kid, getting my hair cut at Cameron Station with my grandfather. The buzz of clippers accompanied by hearing the latest news from the community that puts me at ease. 

I’ve noticed something here in Arlington, there are few places we go to where we choose to be in conversation at the least, community when we are at our best, with people who think and look different from us. We tend to self-select into tribes within our neighborhoods and even when choosing which establishments to patronize. 

Places like barbershops and cafes become places where we are willing to at the least, sit in a chair or at a table next to someone who looks, thinks, or worships differently than we do. We can choose to skip the neighborhood civic meeting or local dad or mom gathering because of the topic to be discussed or because of the guest speaker, but sitting at a common table in a coffee shop or while having Spud trim up your neckline with a straight razor, it is hard to walk away the moment a conversation turns a direction we don’t want it to or worse a direction we don’t want to consider having any validity over our own strongly held convictions.

In a scene similar to Moses climbing Mt. Sinai and then delivering the Ten Commandments, Jesus has traveled up a mountain, followed by his disciples, and then sitting, Jesus begins what is known as the Sermon on the Mount:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit… those who mourn… the meek… those who hunger and thirst for righteousness… the merciful… the pure in heart… the peacemakers… and those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Without a Macbook, access to study Bibles, or a commentary, without a witty opening joke or a story to draw his audience in, Jesus began the flip that will be the hallmark of his ministry. This sermon is what became the basis for the Good News proclaimed by his disciples. This is the Good News we proclaim today. 

Those who will find their blessing in his kingdom, the kingdom he proclaimed had come, the Kingdom of Heaven, are those who may have felt as though or been told they were not within the reach of G-d’s blessing. 

These were people who may have asked tough questions of the Pharisees and other religious leaders.

The ones who sought peace while living under the peace of Caesar - peace guaranteed by the sword. 

Those who were soft-spoken or not given a voice and seat at the table.

Those who suffered because of their commitment to following G-d’s laws, with justice and mercy, as best they could and were unwilling to cave when pressure from the political or religious establishment leaned on them.

What I love most about going to the barbershop or spending time in coffee shops is that commonplaces turn into a means of experiencing G-d’s grace. In coffee shops, avocado toast becomes more than an overpriced brunch item and in the barbershop pomade and scissors are more than a method in which your pastors continue to look their best. Jesus’ invitation is to experience a shared life with those we’ve been told we cannot join at share spaces in our neighborhood. Joining one another at common tables is an invitation to experience the difference a life together, held in G-d’s blessing, can make.

One common space we spend a lot of time in during the summer months is the pool. There is no shortage of pool options in Northern Virginia. At the pool, we see our children’s friends from school, people from church, and the neighborhood. Water slides, splashing, and lifeguard whistles level the playing field, creating a space where all people can come together, relax and enjoy the community together.

This was not always the case. One of the most iconic scenes from Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood took place outside of the Neighborhood of Make-believe. In the spring of 1969, five years after black and white protestors jumped into a whites’ only hotel swimming pool and the hotel owner poured acid into the water, Mister Rogers invited Officer Clemmons, a regular character in the neighborhood, to share a kiddie pool on a hot summers day. Mister Rogers and Officer Clemmons, sitting in lawn chairs they placed their feet into the water. Then the camera focused in on two sets of feet, one set white and the other set black.

At that moment, in a blue plastic swimming pool, the blessing and grace of the common table were shared on televisions and with families in a time when blessing and equality were being determined along racial lines.

Jesus described this moment in his sermon. He was not prescribing a list of tasks but instead told his disciples, and tells us today, exactly what the Kingdom of Heaven will look like.

What you may not know about this scene from Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood is that Mister Rogers and Officer Clemons were friends, dear friends in real life. After appearing on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood for over a year, the actor who played Officers Clemmons, Francois Clemmons, went to his friend Fred and came out. This is a difficult thing for a person to do in 2020 let alone in 1969. Francois was nervous, afraid his friend who was an ordained pastor would turn him away. He had a secret he had been keeping for nearly everyone. Would Mister Rogers follow through on his song, liking Francois just the way he was? “I will always love you, Francois,” said Fred.

BLESSED ARE THE POOR, THE MEEK, AND THE PERSECUTED.

BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO ARE KEPT OUT OF THE TEMPLE, KEPT OUT OF THE CHURCH. 

BLESSED ARE THOSE WITHOUT THE ABILITY TO SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES.

BLESSED ARE THOSE ABUSED, HARMED FOR NO REASON MORE THAN THEY LOOK OR LIVE DIFFERENTLY THAN WE THINK THEY SHOULD.

Blessed are those who are told to zip up their identity, hiding it from the world.

We experience this blessing and grace every time we gather around common tables and in common places. We experience this, receiving a preview of the realization of the Kingdom of Heaven every time we gather around Jesus’ table of grace and share a meal. This invitation extends into coffee shops, barbershops, and playgrounds. We experience a foretaste of the Kingdom of Heaven when we turn to one another and say, “I will always love you, just the way you are.”

Every time we hear Jesus’ invitation to his table and we share bread and wine, taking seriously his invitation to all people - the poor and the rich, the meek and the powerful, the hungry and those with plenty - we are experiencing the grace and promise of the Kingdom of Heaven. 

Jesus’ table is a table of blessing, a common table where the excluded are welcomed and blessed. What we do here this morning, breaking bread, sharing the cup, extends outward to all of the other places we do not want it to happen, where we are told it cannot happen. The grace extended to us by G-d, at this table is a call to extend grace at the tables of our own making - coffee shops and barbershops, playgrounds and lunchrooms. 

A place setting has been prepared for you, a chair is open, and no expense has been spared by the host. Jesus is the host of this feast and he has invited us to join him those whose we have neglected to invite.