As many of you already know, I grew up in a small town. We were the “odd family” since we did not farm for a living, but it was a wonderful place to grow up. I knew all my neighbors, and they knew me. I also know the problems with communities. They are made up of imperfect people, and so they are also imperfect. Not everyone served as a positive role model, and not everyone behaved in the ways you’d like in a community. But we were still a community. Now I find that I prefer living in large urban areas, but even as I live in cities, I find that communities form. In each of the places I have lived, I’ve known the people around me, and they have been that same mixture of good and imperfect that I found growing up. Jesus also lived in a community of people. And as he spoke his parables, he used examples from those communities. His listeners, and later readers of the Gospel stories also lived in these same kind of communities. It’s taken great leaps in technology and science for us to be able to live apart from community, and it just did not happen until recently. So the parables speak to that community life. Most often, Jesus used positive characters from his community life, raising up examples of how to be with one another and with God. But, occasionally, he would lift up a negative example. And that is where our parable starts today. The parable begins “There was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people.” That’s your clue that this is a negative example parable. “There was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow . . .” And immediately, Jesus’ listeners knew the roles of these people in their communities. The role of the judge was to bring about justice. That’s what judges did. The people depended on the judges to fulfill this role, so for this judge to neither fear God nor respect other people is a big failing. And the widow had a place as well. Some women were financially independent, but in general, women were dependent on their husbands for economic security. Widows did not have that access, and so they were dependent on the social fabric of society for their well-being. If you read biblical critiques of communities, they almost always begin with criticism that they have not cared for widows or orphans, those most dependent on the social fabric for their well being. So this widow is dependent on the judge for justice. She has no other way to access it than through him, and he neither fears God nor respects people. He has decided that her problem is not his, and so he ignores her. The widow, having no other options, bothered the judge night and day, demanding that he bring her justice. Finally, the judge gives in, “lest she wear me down.” Except that she already has! It is a wonderful parable, not just about prayer, but also about communities and how they function and the elements within them. Communities survive on people caring for one another. They knew that in Jesus’ day, and we still know it today. Caring for one another is such second nature that when I asked the kids during the Children’s Message, they had a hard time coming up with specific examples. It is part of what they do every day, and my guess is that it is a part of what you do every day as well. You could give me endless examples of how we should, can, and do care for one another. You also know that our responsibility to care extends beyond this congregation or your neighborhood. In the hymnal and in our book of worship, there is a format for prayer that asks for prayers in an ever-widening circle. First, prayers for ourselves, our families, and our friends. Then, for our communities and neighborhoods. Then for our country and its leaders, then for the church, world-wide, and then for the entire world, its peoples, and its leaders. God asks us to care for our communities, but God also asks us to care for the entire world. Our capital and stewardship campaign theme this year is “United in Faith, Fellowship, and Future.” Last week, Dan spoke about how gratitude affects our faith and all that we do. This week, the parable from Luke reminds us that Fellowship means so much more than just greeting one another over coffee. Fellowship is actually the way in which we are community to one another. I want to give you an example of what that can look like from that community I grew up in. The school district I was part of was large geographically, but not very dense demographically. That meant that we had long bus routes to and from school. There were seven elementary schools that fed into 2 junior highs that fed into one senior high. My school bus driver was Mr. Gregoire. Mr. Gregoire lived down the road from me – well, everyone lived down the road, he was probably 5 miles from our house, but we knew him. He was a gruff kind of guy, but I liked him. One day, coming home from school, we were all just being kids, and not paying really much attention to the weather. But Mr. Gregoire had his eye on the sky, and he could see the big black clouds coming in from the west. It’s possible he also noticed as they began to take on that tinge of green. We had just stopped to let Craig off the bus, when Mr. Gregoire overheard Craig talking to another kid on the bus. Craig’s parents weren’t home and Craig had forgotten his keys. But he could get into the garage, and he was going to wait there until his parents got home. As soon as Mr. Gregoire heard that, he slammed the doors to the bus shut. He told Craig that he would not wait in the garage. He would stay on the bus to the end of the route, and if his parents weren’t home yet, he would come home with Mr. Gregoire and they would call Craig’s parents to let them know where he was. Now, I don’t know how Craig felt about spending the rest of the afternoon with Mr. Gregoire, but he didn’t have much of a choice. The doors were shut, and the bus moved on. Another couple of minutes later, and the storm hit. It was the worst storm to hit in my growing up years. Strong straight-line winds, and hail the size of tennis balls. Mr. Gregoire pulled the bus over to the side of the road and told us to get down in the middle of the bus. Bigger kids were instructed to help and protect the smaller kids. 3 windows in the bus broke from the hail. When it was all over, the bus continued on its way, dropping us off. When I got home, I found that the wind had ripped the doors off of our barn, slamming them against the fence. There was sheet metal hanging from telephone wires for miles around. The next morning, when we got to Craig’s house to pick him up, all that was left standing of his garage was the roof and the four corner pillars. Mr. Gregoire understood about community. He understood his role to help care for us, and he did it. My guess is that you all know how to do this as well. When someone has a new baby, you show up with a meal. When someone goes to the hospital, you send a card, or show up with a meal. We do a lot with food, but it is a tangible way to show our care and support. You know that we need to care for those at our doors and for those well beyond our doors. And you know that our care isn’t just wide, but it’s also deep. We lift Joys and Concerns each week not just to keep you informed, but because you pray for those people, even if only in that moment. Fellowship, community, is about both the breadth and the depth. It’s about the food and the notes and the prayers. When someone’s daughter dies, we can’t bring her back to life. But we can stand with her parents and listen to their stories, tell our stories, and cry with them. We can dance for joy at inventions of things like solar stoves that will allow those who live in places where the poverty line isn’t even in sight to make their meals without spending the day hunting for firewood. And, sometimes, we do for our neighbors in hopes that others are doing likewise. For years, my grandmother lived in Arizona. I couldn’t be there to change her light bulbs, take her to her doctors appointments, have a meal with her. But, two communities ago, my next door neighbor was a woman about the age of my grandmother. Because I couldn’t do those things for my grandmother, I kept an eye on my neighbor instead, changing her lightbulbs, grabbing her mail on an icy day, and going to the hospital with her when she needed it. But being part of a community involves even more than that. Let me tell you one more story. When I was in junior high, the other junior high began to fall apart. Classrooms were condemned. The roof was falling in, walls were not stable, and the school had to set up trailers and sheds around the edge of the building to make up for the lost classrooms. Kids had to go in and out of the building to go from class to class. It was obvious the building needed a large repair job, and so a referendum went on the ballot to raise taxes to help pay for the school. And the referendum failed. I was amazed. And then I was shocked to hear my school bus driver, Mr. Gregoire, say that he had voted against the referendum. He voted against it because all his kids were grown. If he didn’t have any kids in the school, why should his taxes go to pay for that building? It wasn’t his problem any more. I don’t want to imply that giving to the church is anything like a tax, but I think my attitude towards my money has been shaped by that moment. I was appalled that Mr. Gregoire voted against the referendum when he so obviously cared about us kids in other ways. I was amazed that he didn’t see the connection between his actions and his money. And so I make sure that some of my money goes towards my community. I give to the YMCA for their after-school programs. I don’t have kids, but I think the program is important for my community. And I also make sure that some of what I give away goes towards that world-wide community as well. We are called into community, and the breadth and depth of our care involves our actions, our prayers, and our finances. We are a community of faith. United in Fellowship, may we live into God’s call to us and God’s promises for us. Amen.