On the northeast tip of North America, on an island called Newfoundland, there’s an airport, and next to it is a town called Gander. It used to be one of the biggest airports in the world, but then we invented jet planes that can cross the ocean without stopping there to refuel. So now that airport only gets about a half dozen flights a day. But on September 11^th, 2001, the world’s air traffic suddenly came to a halt, and 38 planes with 7,000 people on them from all over the world, started landing at that airport. The passengers waited 28 hours to get off their planes, and then… the people of Gander jumped into action, converting every available building into shelters, and bussing people to any place that could take them.

Come From Away is equal parts hilarious and heartwarming. It’s a story about how people come together during a crisis, and how ordinary people can be heroic by doing ordinary things. They show up with trays of food, jackets, blankets, toilet paper and more saying, “I need something to do because I can’t watch the news anymore.” Now, this is before most people had mobile phones. So, when they do deplane, the passengers don’t want rest or food as much as they want to know what’s going on and phones to check on their loved ones. So, the Newfoundlanders help with that too. They bring them phones, and computers, and set up TVs showing the news.

Everyone feels scared, and unsure of what to do. The passengers have no idea where they are or how long they’ll be there. The Newfoundlanders have no idea how long these people will be here. On one bus headed to the Salvation army, there’s a group of African passengers who don’t speak any English at all. But they do have a Bible, and so their bus driver points them to Philippians 4:6, “Be anxious for nothing.”

They can’t get the passengers home, but the Newfoundlanders do what they can to make them feel like they’re at home. They welcome these strangers like family. They tell jokes, they share whiskey, they offer showers in their homes, they take people to churches to light candles and pray. They even cancel hockey for the week so they can turn the rink into a giant refrigerator for all the food. 5 days,19 animals, and 7,000 strays, and the people of Newfoundland live the words of Leviticus, “The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the native-born among you; you shall love the alien as yourself.” They hold nothing back. They don’t let fear stop them from offering love in all the ways they can. They even make a few people into honorary Newfoundlanders in a ceremony involving a bottle of “screech” and a freshly caught cod fish. You’ll have to watch the show yourself to figure out how that goes.

Leviticus is admittedly not the most uplifting read most of the time. But it does tell us quite a lot about what matters to God. In these verses, I see a lot of care. Care that we rest. Care for our elders. Care for outsiders. Care that we do not cheat one another and are honest in our business with each other. God cares how we are treated, and how we treat each other. Leviticus is the first place that we hear God say, love your neighbor as yourself. When Jesus says it, he is quoting this strange old book of laws. And in the parable that we read today, he emphasizes that loving our neighbor looks like meeting their needs for survival. Water. Food. Clothing. Community. Things that save each other’s literal lives, not just souls.

According to the book of Matthew, it is in the moment where the needy person shows up at your door that you show God who you really are. And the key to eternal life is not in how many Sundays you spent at church, or how much you tithed. It’s not what you wore, whether you swore, or what prayers you did or didn’t say. The critical question for Jesus is: when your fellow human beings needed you, did you show up for them? When you saw strangers needing food, water, or clothes, did you give it to them? When they were heartsick, anxious, or stuck, did you become community for them? Or did you pretend that you didn’t see Jesus standing there looking hungry and scared?

Now I think God’s grace is abundant, and that God is well aware we are imperfect creatures. I don’t think you need to be afraid of being sorted into eternal torment for failing to measure up to a perfect standard. That would defeat the whole purpose of God’s forgiveness through Christ. But still, we should be aware that we live in a world where there are a lot of people going without their basic needs being met every day, and we live in a world where that very much does not have to be the case. The Kingdom of Heaven comes to life whenever people choose to show up for each other. It is embodied by everyday people who pay attention to unmet needs and are willing to rearrange the resources. Likewise, human greed is destructive, it is isolating, it is the fear of not having enough for ourselves embodied, and it can create Hell on Earth.

There is a heavenly future ahead of us when we recognize what abundance we have, and the joy that serving others can bring. One that takes us beyond mere survival, to building and embodying God’s kingdom. A future where we all know we need each other, and we create the world of care that God has been dreaming of, from Leviticus to Jesus and beyond. This is a call to solidarity, not just charity. We all have something the world needs, and we all have needs are unmet. It is when we bring our offerings together, that we find our deliverance. When we truly put our mind to it, we are capable of so much!

Often, like in Gander, our opportunity to live the Gospel will show up as a surprise. Once when I was in middle school, my math teacher gave us a pop quiz. I was unfortunately unprepared, and being an opinionated tween, I wrote across the top of my paper. “I hate pop quizzes, how am I supposed to study for them!?” Wisely, my teacher responded on my graded test with a single short sentence. “That’s what your homework is for.” There’s no way to be prepared for a catastrophe, but you can do your homework, your daily assignment from Christ, if you will. You can practice kindness in small ways every day, so that when a big need falls into your lap, you will be ready to respond in love. Some issues will feel impossible. There will be too many people to help, and too many needs to fill. But the gospel is real when ordinary people try anyways, having faith that God will provide what we need, and believing in what we can accomplish together.

One of the most impressive aspects of this musical to me is how every member of the cast plays two or three characters. A change in their accent, plus a hat or a jacket, and suddenly they’re a whole different person, on the other side of the crisis. They switch back and forth, playing both Newfoundlanders and Come from Aways. We are like the cast of this musical, not just insider or outsider, giver or taker, but both, at the same time.

Now, I admit, I have never been in a musical, but I did spend a year in choir during high school. And one of the things from that time that has lodged itself in my brain is the instructions our director gave us about breathing. Basically, that when you sing as a group, you should try not to take your breaths in the obvious places. You take your breath when someone else is singing to cover the sound that way there are no gaps in the music where the whole choir is going (dramatic breath). Then after you’ve taken your breath, you sing while someone else breathes. Or something like that, I could be misremembering it, but I do think about it a lot.

Humanity is not a one man show. Our fullest expression is not as a solo act, but as an entire cast and crew. We were not made to do this alone. We were made to play our part, and to take turns breathing, and the result is something beautiful. I mean like when we sing in church, right? I know that I don’t have to hit all the high notes, because someone else here can, and other people will be harmonizing, and even if none of us feel like we are spectacular singers, together we still sound pretty wonderful, like 95% of the time. Except sometimes when the hymn is new.

Everyone in Gander did something different, and all of it mattered. And the people who Came from Away? They left a mark on Gander too. The musical ends ten years later, when the “come from aways” return to Gander to “honor what was lost and commemorate what we found.” A community of love that couldn’t have happened any other way. This love is the whole gospel. When the world starts falling apart, the gospel is found in people with open doors and open hearts. It’s love that can take us from fear and loneliness, into joy and community. It can connect us across religions, across languages, and across borders, bringing the Kingdom of Heaven to us, right here and now.

During the show, the characters sing the hymn Make Me A Channel of Your Peace. So, in closing, I just want to read a few lines for us, and I encourage you to let this be your own prayer today.

Make me a channel of your peace. Where there is hatred let me bring your love.
Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord. And where there’s doubt, true faith in you.

Make me a channel of your peace. Where there’s despair in life, let me bring hope.
Where there is darkness, only light And where there’s sadness, ever joy.

Oh, Master grant that I may never seek So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand To be loved as to love with all my soul.

Friends, may you open your heart to others, connecting even across massive differences, selflessly giving them what you can, doing something that matters, embodying the Gospel, and seeing Jesus himself in the stranger God sends to your door.

Amen, and amen.